A Child Leads Me

 

While browsing in a home décor store recently, I noticed a toddler in his father’s arms lamenting and reaching for his mama examining merchandise nearby. The boy child was clearly weary of the shopping, perhaps hungry as it was around the lunch hour. A few moments later, in his mama’s arms, she played with him their special little game and he giggled with delight. His peals of laughter were sweet and distracted me from the shop’s merchandise. I paused and enjoyed his delight.  They continued their game and his giggles erupted again and again. I noticed four other shoppers and two store employees paused to observe the exchange between mother and child. As the adults smiled at one another, the elderly man commented that there is nothing quite as pleasant as the laughter of a child. We all nodded in agreement.

The pause of two or three minutes in the hustle of the day refreshed my perspective. God was present in the intimate moment between mother and son. The mama’s play and child’s response clearly demonstrated his trust and belonging in her arms of love. He had forgotten his tiredness, his hunger.

 

I, too, have lamented to my Father God the recent losses in my life and the weariness of dashed hopes.

 

Still, I find myself;

delighting in a small child’s laughter,

noticing the frost glistening on pine needles,

captured by the pink glow of morning sky reflected on the waters of our backyard creek,

 tickled to my soul with belly laughs,

 

and content with the snuggles of my grandbaby and sweet conversations with our adult children.

 

I realize I am in the nurturing presence of my Father’s love, beloved and belonging.

 

My doubts,

my angst, 

my questions. 

Momentarily forgotten and sharing delight with God for the gifts of daily life.

Being aware of God’s presence and attentive to the treasures of each day help me hold the mystery of troublesome questions and doubts that linger in the shadows of my soul with trust in the arms of Perfect Love.

 

 

Dusty Corners

When the rhythm of my life is out of synch and I’ve permitted the pace to sweep me along with the hurried masses, I get grumpy.  I lose connection with my soul and who I am. As my “Yes’s” pile up and overwhelm my days with activity, so do my “No’s” to the spiritual practices I thrive on to listen for God’s voice. 

My schedule fills and I default to the not so spiritual practice of neglect.

In my home, this means tidying up the house yields to a promise for later. Meals become fast and processed. Exercise gets slashed. In relationships with God, family, friends and strangers I rely on the culturally acceptable excuse, “I’m too busy right now.”

I actually say, “My life is so full.”

This avoids the “B” word. Busy. I’ve been taught that word red flags unhealthy soul practices. But a “full” life makes me feel better. I tell myself I am choosing what I am doing. It seems easier to say “Yes” to life’s unrelenting demands, the pleasing of others and fulfilling expectations rather than protecting time for the priorities and assignments God has given to me. Instead of choosing the thoughtful “No” that honors my limitations and my calling, I try to juggle both the requests of my small world and my soul’s priorities.

These are signs that my life has become disordered.

When the corners of my house are dusty and there are cobwebs on the dining room chandelier most often the nooks and crannies of my soul are neglected too.

When I am pleading busyness in my relationships, my prayers are hurried and distracted.

When my body care is compromised, so too is my Sabbath rest.

Tending to commitments I ought not to have made leaves me desolate and discouraged. Once again my compromise comes into focus.

I still myself in silence, solitude and prayer.  I begin to address the cobwebs in my soul as well the dust bunnies in my house. Perspective becomes clearer. Peace returns. I know my belovedness and sense my arrow pointing true.

I commit to my rule of life. Puttering about doing chores in silence and practicing solitude and prayer, keep my interior and exterior being in rhythm with the Beloved Trinity. When my soul keeping is my priority, the cobwebs in my house are tended to as well.

 

It Wasn't A Gift I Asked For

With moonlight caressing my face and tears of hopelessness and helplessness soaking my pillow, the gift was quietly present.

Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

When anger tumbled out of my mouth in a torrent of words spilling from a trampled soul, the gift belonged to me.

Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Forgetting the darkness in my heart and judging the shadows in my neighbor’s, the gift whispered its presence.

Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

While coveting another’s talents and sulking in scarcity and ingratitude, the gift shimmered its offering.

Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Arrested by penetrating love shining from my crucified Savior’s face, the gift announced its name.

Mercy

Mercy flows on the parched landscape of my soul.

Mercy transforms ashes to beauty.

Mercy triumphs over judgement.

Mercy illuminates my beloved uniqueness.

The gift I didn’t ask for comes wrapped in extravagant mercy and overflows with love for me.

Jesus Christ, my Savior and my Friend.

Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

 

My Everyday Choice

Concerns tumble in my heart like water over rocks, noisy and clamoring for attention.  Long held dreams…unfulfilled, concerns for family members…unresolved, questions about my future…..when?  I am feeling forgotten.  I am afraid I am not enough.  Perhaps I’m a “B” version of a woman?  Doubts cavort in my heart.

I pray with the “Pray As You Go” app on my phone. Jesus tells his listeners, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Believe in God, believe also in me.”  He says again, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you….do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”(John 14)

 

His words suggest I have a choice, “Do not let…”

He says, “Believe also in me.”

I get to choose.

Believe God or the cacophony in my heart.

Will I “let” fear strangle my spirit?  Will I “let” doubts dull the colors in life?

Or…

Will I “let” serenity still my troubled spirit?  Will I “let” calm quiet my heart?

Today, I choose to believe God.  I receive the peace Jesus gives me. It will be what I breathe, today.

More Than Enough

 I’ve been pondering my responses to the hurting and lonely people in my world. I have struggled to know how to be a neighbor to them beyond the usual prayers and help I offer. I’m burned out trying to fix people.  I have felt guilt for holding some at arm’s length, fearing they would suck the life right out of me. I realize I don’t have enough of anything to slake their soul thirst or satisfy their physical wants.

Meditating on the story of Jesus’ miraculous feeding of about 5,000 men with five loaves of bread and two fishes, I noticed my thoughts about people’s needs are similar to the disciples’ reactions of many years ago. Jesus told His disciples to feed the people gathered around him.  The disciples looked into their treasury.  They assessed what food was available. They concluded their resources were not nearly enough to feed a hungry crowd. 

When Jesus asked what had been found, they handed to Jesus a little boy’s lunch basket containing five small loaves and two tiny fishes. After Jesus blessed the miniscule offering and divided the food, the disciples distributed it to the people…..and it was more than enough!

I stumble over this example of little becoming abundance in the hands of God.  I experience tension between the neediness I notice in my world and what I have to give. Or want to give. I am frustrated with my limitations.  Every day I bump into cries for help. I examine the time, money, resources and energy I have to offer after I tended to the responsibilities in my own life.

 I am not enough.

This thought gently persists: What if I offer my simple words, my scant resources and my small talents to Jesus for blessing and breaking? If I live in that humble space of willingly giving to Jesus my offering for the neediness around me, would a miracle of “more than enough” occur?

I give what is in my hands…the miracle of supply is in His.

 

 

 

 

 

 

New Shoes

I love the confidence I feel in a brand new pair of stylish shoes. I like even more my feet to be comfortably encased in my pretty new shoes.

I’m noticing that change is a lot like a new pair of shoes. Attractive and uncomfortable until the feet and the shoes yield to the other to support a comfortable journey for the shoe-wearer.

In a spiritual direction session I was bemoaning the changes in my life; the laying down of familiar rhythms of job and service. I left my nursing job of seventeen years and yielded to another teacher the Sunday School class I taught for twenty years. I am experiencing changes in relationships as our children are successfully launched and our parents retired. I’m noticing changes in what I am drawn to, as previously fulfilling activities are not appealing to me yet new opportunities are not very productive.

When my director prayed with me, she invited God to steady my trust in Him as He pruned away the old fruit to allow for the growth of new.  These few words lit a candle in my soul.  The discomfort with the way I was wearing change shifted to an understanding of a pruning process.  This new knowing is infusing this season with hope as I wait and grow.

 My season of pruning is uncomfortable, yet I am attracted to new fruitfulness.  Tentative tendrils of growth are unfurling towards what I’m not sure. It is enough to know that the vine of my life is in the Master Gardener’s hands and He is nurturing my fruitfulness.  According to Jesus, this will be for God’s glory and to show that I am His follower. 

 

 

Changing shoes for the next leg of my journey is exciting and scary. Some days I long for a comfortable fit, but mostly I embrace the invitation to surrender to God’s pruning shears and remain in Him.

When Longings Disturb My Soul

Tossing and turning in my bed, I tried to get comfortable and shut off the list of good intentions I ignored the previous day. The same accusations played on the turntable of my mind. You failed at body care, you did not practice your writing, you didn’t work on your vocational goals and you aren’t disciplined enough in your pursuit of God.  You are an imposter.

I counted my blessings.  I redesigned a dream house. Sleep remained elusive.

 

 

I asked God to help me pay attention to my thoughts and feelings. I noticed the accusing thoughts were around commitments I made to care for my health and to explore longings of my heart.  It occurred to me that I was experiencing stress caused by tension between what I believed to be true about how I was living and God’s truth, the riches of His grace lavished on me as His chosen, adopted, forgiven, redeemed and blessed daughter.

My response to my version of truth was instinctual.  I just have to try harder to live according to my vision of what I want my life to be. 

And how has that worked for me? Not well at all.

 

In frustration I wonder why I can’t be content with life as it is, comfortably routine. Why can’t I keep my desires buried? Why do I pay attention to that restless longing for more of God and more for my life?

 

More questions infiltrated my sleepy fog. What if my longings are from a good God who desires good things for his girl? What if I depended on His power to walk in His truth for my life? What if I could extend grace to myself for the mystery in my unanswered questions, trusting my good God for what is around the bend in my future?

When the light of morning woke me, the questions of the night still simmered in my soul. During my morning jog God stirred these practical promptings into the mixture:

 

Could you take a few small steps daily towards growing in these longings I’ve deposited in your heart?

Would you be willing to embrace your desires, that deep thrum in your soul, and trust my goodness to help you satisfy them?

Tackle a hard thing every day.

 

Notice your journey instead of fretting about the speed you are traveling. Or asking when you will get there!

 

Another expanse of grace opened for me. Small daily steps will move me towards satisfying the longings God places in my heart.  I will follow His heart and mine into my day, depending on Him to show me the way.