To Be Near

Oh to be near
to the one that I love.
Drawing me close
I feel his embrace.
Stealing away
before breakfast is made.
Longing to be
with the one who loves me.
Comforted, held,
Bringing me there
to the place where my heart is complete.

Enjoying a beautiful moment with my Lord this morning.
He is beauty.

Just clouds outside this morning,
but there is more behind those clouds.

Beautiful sunshine. Beautiful Jesus.

When my own words cut

I do not want to write. I want to back away.

Stay sad.

Down.

I read my own words and they cut.

"A little seed was planted in my heart"

When I wrote that post about "Becoming Beautiful" there really was a seed planted inside of me. When I found out that we were expecting another little miracle from God, I was so thankful!

One of the things that made this news so special to me is that this little baby was due so close to Ryan's Grandma's birthday. She is dear to me. A kindred spirit. Youthful. Full of life. She laughs. I really like her. I felt so honored to be expecting a baby the day before her birthday.

And there were more reasons for the joy that I felt. Things that made me bubble with gratitude. We only knew for a short time, yet I had already embraced and treasured this in my heart. But it was not to be. Not how I thought.

"crushing the seed's shell will only bring more hope. Hope of redemption! Hope of new life!"

I thought this little life would be mine to hold. Born into my arms, smiled at, held. But this one was not to be here in that way. Not to cry or crawl or walk. Not to dance. Not here. Not now. Those words are hard to read.

"The force that cracks the seed open is called suffering"

I do not know why. I only know that this preciousness has passed into the hands of God. I didn't know this pain. I didn't know this empty feeling. Until now.

"Many things remind us that we do not live in that Eden place"

There are a lot of questions that spin. A lot of doubts and a lot of sadness. But in the end, there are just some things we cannot control. We cannot know.

"But when it happens, when we are crushed yet we still have joy, we have found the face of mercy once again. As we gaze into the eyes of mercy, we discover that it is only the outer shell which was crushed. The inner seed is preserved in a protective place called God's love. This is beauty."

Me? I do not feel very beautiful right now. I feel sad. And down. It was tempting not to write about this. Not to go there. But something compels me. Something urges me to draw close to this place of togetherness with God.

Held.
Close.
And near.

When I write I can feel him drawing close to me. Or maybe it is just me drawing closer to him. He was always there.

He will always be there.

The voice of hope calls to me. To stay. To trust. Even when I do not understand.

Putting down my towel

While listening to a beautiful friend speak about joy on Monday evening, some thoughts stumbled across my mind. She was joking about how many times in life we may want to throw in the towel, but as moms, we soon realize we can't! Ever been there?

We are exhausted, basking in overwhelm, towel in hand, hand in air, ready to give up! And then we see a pair or eyes, or two. Little eyes. Searching. Expecting. Needing. And, no matter how much we want to throw in the towel, deep down we know there is more grace to carry on.

But it doesn't always look pretty like that. Sometimes, as moms, we give in to the voices of anger and pride. Short tempers serge, harsh words fly. What causes this? What are we really believing when this happens? Do we have an underlying lack of hope? Is it possible that we are listening to the voice of defeat which hollers "This will never change!" "Things cannot get better!" "I cannot handle this!" "Life is too much!"

I wonder, what does hope say?

Does hope say that I am not so big. My life is not so important. I do not matter that much. But I do matter a whole lot. I need love, not pride. Mistakes are opportunities to learn. I can try again. There is another way. There is another way. There is another way.

What if I stopped grasping at the little surge of control I feel when I give in to the voice of despair. What if I just let things fall apart? What is the worst that could happen? On those yucky days, things were already broken. Maybe if I let the pieces fall to the floor we could pick them up and play with them! LOL! Play with brokenness. How about that? It would sure be better than despair. And I think my kids would be glad.

Why do I carry the towel around anyway? Does it make me feel better to grasp my phony security blanket of defeat? Do I really think it will make my life better when I have the towel in hand, ready to give up when things get too hard? What if I folded it and put it away, leaving my hands free to praise him?

Becoming Beautiful

This week I have been reflecting on the process of becoming beautiful. Last weekend, I listened to the Pastor speak about God's love. I listened to him speak about God's pursuit of us. I listened to him speak about beauty. A little seed was planted in my heart that inspired me to believe in the way that God shapes me, the way that God molds me, the way that He loves me.

The soil that nurtures this seed is called mercy. It embraces the seed. It offers strength to the seed. It believes in the seed, even when life deals it a hard lot. Even when the seed is crushed by broken promises or failures. It gently knows that crushing the seed's shell will only bring more hope. Hope of redemption! Hope of new life! Hope of bursting forth!

The force that cracks the seed open is called suffering. Suffering wears on the protective shells that we wear. Suffering loosens the masks which we hold over our faces. Suffering reveals our true face. Suffering makes us long for Eden where we were naked and unashamed. Where we walked with God in the cool of the day.

But that Eden place is not here. Not now. This life has many sorrows. It has many challenges. Much disappointment. When our masks are worn down, we may look into the faces of striving, envy and pride. They will not deal gently with us. They will never be appeased. No, they will not be satisfied. If we see only those faces, we will becomes blind to the very face of mercy. The face who smiles at us with kind eyes and gives us the confidence to become beautiful.

Sometimes that face is easily seen. It appears constantly, like a mother tending to her newborn babe. It doesn't let her cry very long. Hold her close. Stays constantly near. But as the child grows and learns to walk, and then begins to venture out, this child will need to learn things like wisdom and trust. Things like faith and hope.

Many things remind us that we do not live in that Eden place. When we are held back in our callings because of the failures of those we rely on, then it can be easier to listen to the faces of bitterness and pride. When we are crushed by those we long to be close to, the voices of fear and striving ring more loudly than gentle mercy.

But when it happens, when we are crushed yet we still have joy, we have found the face of mercy once again. As we gaze into the eyes of mercy, we discover that it is only the outer shell which was crushed. The inner seed is preserved in a protective place called God's love. This is beauty.

When we trust in His love.

When we hope in His promises.

When we know the face of mercy.

Mercy has not only a face, but also strong arms and a steadfast love. Mercy is Jesus Christ.

The giver.

The redeemer.

The lover.

"Arise my darling, my beautiful one. Come with me" (Song of Songs 2.)

You will find courage and strength.

Delight and joy.

Mercy and beauty.

Try again

This morning, while making muffins with my almost 3 year old, I was given some insight into the kingdom of God.

Unless we become like little children, we cannot enter in. But if we do, we have so much to gain.

Mr Elijah, who is a determined little boy, pleaded with me to let him help make muffins today. I reluctantly agreed to his request and let him pull up a stool. As he stood there, ready and waiting to help, I mechanically grabbed the ingredients. Quickly I placed them on the counter and began measuring and dumping, trying to hurry through the process. I'll let him do the baking powder. Or the salt.

But when I began cracking the eggs, he said "cun I quack one?" I thought about how so often I say no, and how I have purposed to say yes more often. "Oh, all right" I said.

And the egg went splat!

Actually, it dripped off of the counter, some of it oozing into the silverware drawer. Yuck! At this point I am thinking "okay, enough of that. I will take care of the rest."

Undisturbed, he smiled all big and said "we hasta twy again!" My patience was less than optimal and I wanted so badly to say "not now" and tell him to go play. But something inside of me knew that I needed to say "yes."

So I did.

But this time I put my hand on his as he cracked the egg, thinking I had better make sure we don't have to clean THAT up again. And do you know what happened? The egg went SPLAT. Right on the floor. Again! And why did this happen? Because I was pressing too hard. Trying too hard.

Oh, boy! Two eggs on the floor, and five other kids are awake and getting hungry. And by now, my patience was really challenged. And what do you suppose he said to me? "We hasta twy again mama."

And he was right.

Then there was a pause in me. A heavenly pause. And I knew that a child had taught me. The image of God was shining through my little boy, bringing light into my heart. Showing me that failure is just an opportunity to try again.

Let them come unto me. Do not hinder them. For to such belongs the kingdom of God.

Moments in life

There are moments in life when our heart swells full, and the world is right. We are being held and loved. We set aside our worries and troubles, and we fix our gaze upon the Father of all.

When we are living in these moments, something amazing happens. We cry, we smile, we rest. And from above He gazes at us with loving eyes, so glad we have come.

He holds us in his secure arms, and he restores our strength. He takes our burdens, and he lifts our weary faces up so that we can see what he sees. A beautiful child. Made to bring beauty. Made to carry life. Made to carry love. Walking the path of sacrifice and greatness, just as he did.

Just a little while in this place, and our souls can carry on. These are the moments when hope grows. Such beautiful, precious moments.

Where's the Wing?

Violet wants to know "where's the wing?" She was listening to "Find Your Wings" and wanted to know where they were! I wasn't sure what to say. : ) It's a good question. Shoot, where did I put my wings!?? I need to find them! Ryan explained that wings are for flying, and flying is how you feel when you're really happy and free. That sounds good. I want that.