Written Sunday....
He's somewhere over the Atlantic making his way back to me.
My husband - he's been in Africa....giving bits of his heart away. And this overseas heart-sharing....it came out of no where, really.
One minute on an ordinary Thursday night, he is helping me tidy up after dinner. The next he's pulling out a passport, pacing in prayer, and packing suitcases.
And all this...it's just so God, of God.
Isn't it so like Him to surprise us right in the midst of humdrum? Isn't it so like Him to tap the shoulder of an ordinary man - who believes in a God who can do extraordinary things? Isn't it so like Him to know the bride of this tapped one so well - that He knew he had to spring this on her?...because if she had known her groom was going to be away for a week - leaving her with a trio of little ones, alone - she would have lost it? Yes, He knew. And this bride thanks Him for sparing her the anxious wait - and instead, just plopping it right in.
Less than 48 hours before jetting away...my husband received the following text message:
"One of our guys backed out of going to Kenya. Do you want to go? We can make this happen. Pray about it for a few minutes.”
It made the hair on my arms stand straight up. And I knew....I knew this was from Him. And that only through Him could a trip across the globe pull together in only a few hours.
Two days later...he flew half-way around the world - and fell all-the-way-around in love.
He cupped faces, and dined with refugees, and brainstormed businesses, and he loved.
When he walks through our door today - and drops his bags and gets tackled by kids and pulls out pictures.... I'll understand that the week alone with my sick wee ones was worth it.
This Mama didn't have to fly to the other side of the planet to grow this time. No - He did lots of growing and pruning to this heart right here within these very walls this week.
And while I was growing here....my groom was growing there. An ocean apart - but hearts growing up and up in the same direction.
Only Him.
Perhaps I'll post pictures of all this craziness? Yes, yes.
Until then - let your faith be encouraged - knowing that He calls people. He calls people to Africa. He calls people to wipe little noses (and bottoms!).
And only He can simultaneously accomplish much, with both.
Snapshots and commentary from my groom....coming soon :)
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
My Fruit
I look down and I find him staring right through.
It startles me. And it catches me off guard....
As he looks at his mother...what kind of fruit is he feasting on? What kind of fruit are they feasting on? Because all three of them...they munch on the fruit that falls from the tree of me.
As children look at their parents...they look through them. Fake expressions and surface responses seldom keep a child from seeing and sensing the true heart of the ones that raise them. (This is true of grown children, too - you know.) It can be frightening.
These children that litter our lives with laughter and wonder and awe (and noise!) they learn how to live under the limbs of you and me. And as they do - as they soak in and mimic and copy - they nourish themselves on the fruit we produce. Whether ripe or rotten...they ingest it all.
And this strikes me to my core.
This simple stare from my second son - it shakes me awake......again.
And as I inventory my actions - I realize that, yes - left to my own devices this orchard is corrupt....but left in the care of the Pruner...ah, this orchard survives. And it not only survives, it thrives. And not only that - it's branches reach out wide and strong. And its leaves...they are a welcome shelter. And its fruit - gives life.
So as the Spirit blows a redeeming wind right through the branches of me - I know that only through Him is anyone ever ripe with love and joy and peace. And only because of a thorough pruning does one ever dangle down patience and kindness and goodness. And only through the Grower Himself is anyone ever rooted in faithfulness and gentleness and self-control.
Only through Him.
The church sign just on the other side of the field reads, "God makes all things new.....even you." How did they know that the Mama just across the way - needed those words this very day?
No matter what you've harvested in seasons past....yield to the winds of Him and you'll yield a bountiful crop.
And when you do - the ones perched underneath? .....they will too.
It startles me. And it catches me off guard....
As he looks at his mother...what kind of fruit is he feasting on? What kind of fruit are they feasting on? Because all three of them...they munch on the fruit that falls from the tree of me.
As children look at their parents...they look through them. Fake expressions and surface responses seldom keep a child from seeing and sensing the true heart of the ones that raise them. (This is true of grown children, too - you know.) It can be frightening.
These children that litter our lives with laughter and wonder and awe (and noise!) they learn how to live under the limbs of you and me. And as they do - as they soak in and mimic and copy - they nourish themselves on the fruit we produce. Whether ripe or rotten...they ingest it all.
And this strikes me to my core.
This simple stare from my second son - it shakes me awake......again.
And as I inventory my actions - I realize that, yes - left to my own devices this orchard is corrupt....but left in the care of the Pruner...ah, this orchard survives. And it not only survives, it thrives. And not only that - it's branches reach out wide and strong. And its leaves...they are a welcome shelter. And its fruit - gives life.
So as the Spirit blows a redeeming wind right through the branches of me - I know that only through Him is anyone ever ripe with love and joy and peace. And only because of a thorough pruning does one ever dangle down patience and kindness and goodness. And only through the Grower Himself is anyone ever rooted in faithfulness and gentleness and self-control.
Only through Him.
The church sign just on the other side of the field reads, "God makes all things new.....even you." How did they know that the Mama just across the way - needed those words this very day?
No matter what you've harvested in seasons past....yield to the winds of Him and you'll yield a bountiful crop.
And when you do - the ones perched underneath? .....they will too.
For every tree is known by its own fruit......
- Luke 6:44
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such their is no law.
- Galatians 5:22-23
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Feeling and Doing
Tending to him makes me want to tend to them all.
I felt it with the other two....but it wasn't so adamant feeling.
Watching his face scrunch and his eyebrows furrow and his fist clinch and his eyelids fall - it makes me think of the ones with no one watching. Hearing his cry makes me think of the ones with no one listening. The ones that whimper and writhe and wail - with no ears peeled to hear it. The one's neglected. The one's abandoned. The ones left for dead, even.
And it tears at me and brings tears and it causes me to look up - and I don't know whether I should raise a fist up to the sky in anger and bewilderment at what's allowed, or whether I should cry out from the depths of me and ask for it to cease and ask to be a part of the solution.
I'm thinking it's the latter. (But I do both.)
And I'm thinking He is the one that placed it there....the prompting...the sorrow...the desire for justice...yes...even the anger from it all. Because I'm learning that He does prompt us to live and work and act in a way that pours Him out all over. But we, still, choose to be tipped for the pouring or not.
And so what do I do with all this? What does a woman who doesn't consider herself a kid-person....what does a woman who has fears that stifle her... what does a woman with low academic prowess and limited potential...a history of doubt...and a score of failures do with all this prompting?
After raising her fist and after crying out sorrow - she realizes that she must not simply feel....she must do.
And to know what...she must pray. And she must surrender. And she must hush herself to listen. Because when we pray...when we surrender...when we are hushed - more promptings will come. And more and more - and as they do and as we do.....love rushes out. And minds are changed. And orphanages are constructed. And babies are saved. And infants are fed. And kids are rescued. And Mamas are equipped. And in carrying out all that love, Love is revealed and shared and mimicked. And in the midst of vast despair - a bit of beauty brights it's way right through.
Oh Lord.... I know what I feel - but what will you have me do? What will you have me do for the ones lost? For the littlest and least? Because I don't think I can bare this feeling - without diving into some doing.
I felt it with the other two....but it wasn't so adamant feeling.
Watching his face scrunch and his eyebrows furrow and his fist clinch and his eyelids fall - it makes me think of the ones with no one watching. Hearing his cry makes me think of the ones with no one listening. The ones that whimper and writhe and wail - with no ears peeled to hear it. The one's neglected. The one's abandoned. The ones left for dead, even.
And it tears at me and brings tears and it causes me to look up - and I don't know whether I should raise a fist up to the sky in anger and bewilderment at what's allowed, or whether I should cry out from the depths of me and ask for it to cease and ask to be a part of the solution.
I'm thinking it's the latter. (But I do both.)
And I'm thinking He is the one that placed it there....the prompting...the sorrow...the desire for justice...yes...even the anger from it all. Because I'm learning that He does prompt us to live and work and act in a way that pours Him out all over. But we, still, choose to be tipped for the pouring or not.
And so what do I do with all this? What does a woman who doesn't consider herself a kid-person....what does a woman who has fears that stifle her... what does a woman with low academic prowess and limited potential...a history of doubt...and a score of failures do with all this prompting?
After raising her fist and after crying out sorrow - she realizes that she must not simply feel....she must do.
And to know what...she must pray. And she must surrender. And she must hush herself to listen. Because when we pray...when we surrender...when we are hushed - more promptings will come. And more and more - and as they do and as we do.....love rushes out. And minds are changed. And orphanages are constructed. And babies are saved. And infants are fed. And kids are rescued. And Mamas are equipped. And in carrying out all that love, Love is revealed and shared and mimicked. And in the midst of vast despair - a bit of beauty brights it's way right through.
Oh Lord.... I know what I feel - but what will you have me do? What will you have me do for the ones lost? For the littlest and least? Because I don't think I can bare this feeling - without diving into some doing.
Learn to do good;
Seek justice,
Rebuke the oppressor;
Defend the fatherless,
Plead for the widow.
- Isaiah 1:17
Learn. Seek. Rebuke. Defend. Plead.....Those aren't feelings, friends - they're actions.
Bypass my fears, Father and rid me of the lazy complacency and ignorance and selfishness- and get me geared up for whatever or whomever or whenever...You call. And in the meantime - as I tend to my trio - don't let the feeling wane. Because I know there is some doing to be done.
Lots of it, actually.
Pertinent Links:
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Fresh Lessons
My belly is empty....but my arms are full :)
The second boy....the third baby.... he has arrived.
And so has his mother. Each birth - is not only an arrival of a new life....but an arrival of a new woman.
With each fresh blond head (yes, another blond!) one more layer of selfishness begins to peal away. One more shelf of self-denial is wrought. One more faith layer is laid upon the others. One more hope, dream, prayer - fulfilled.
This gift....this boy...that robs me deeper of selfishness and egocentrism and doubt and negativity - he's a lesson for me. As I study his serious face, his lanky toes, his softness - I know that his fashioning was not by mistake. And while it's only a part of his purpose, I'm certain - This little new one comes to me to teach me a thing or two. And it pleases Him to do it this way.
The first blonds - they made me realize it all. Five and half years of lessons thus far in patience. In humility. In pride. In love. In life. And the lessons continue.
And the lessons can be rough. And the tests that come from my two....now, my three.... oh, they can be difficult. And I fail many of them. And I barely pass a few - (only on the re-takes) - but through them all....I learn.
So this new adventure that emerged and filled his lungs with air for the first time three days ago - He's sleeping in his crib now. And as I look in on his fresh face - and as I quiet the boistrous voices of his siblings - I'm tired and beat up and anxious and sleepy and overwhelmed and wrung out - of course. But I'm thankful. I have joy. I'm filled with expectation. And happy hope. And shear gratefulness for the sweet love...for the honest laughter....and even for the teaching that will take place - ....through my trio.
Let the fresh lessons begin....
The second boy....the third baby.... he has arrived.
And so has his mother. Each birth - is not only an arrival of a new life....but an arrival of a new woman.
With each fresh blond head (yes, another blond!) one more layer of selfishness begins to peal away. One more shelf of self-denial is wrought. One more faith layer is laid upon the others. One more hope, dream, prayer - fulfilled.
This gift....this boy...that robs me deeper of selfishness and egocentrism and doubt and negativity - he's a lesson for me. As I study his serious face, his lanky toes, his softness - I know that his fashioning was not by mistake. And while it's only a part of his purpose, I'm certain - This little new one comes to me to teach me a thing or two. And it pleases Him to do it this way.
The first blonds - they made me realize it all. Five and half years of lessons thus far in patience. In humility. In pride. In love. In life. And the lessons continue.
And the lessons can be rough. And the tests that come from my two....now, my three.... oh, they can be difficult. And I fail many of them. And I barely pass a few - (only on the re-takes) - but through them all....I learn.
So this new adventure that emerged and filled his lungs with air for the first time three days ago - He's sleeping in his crib now. And as I look in on his fresh face - and as I quiet the boistrous voices of his siblings - I'm tired and beat up and anxious and sleepy and overwhelmed and wrung out - of course. But I'm thankful. I have joy. I'm filled with expectation. And happy hope. And shear gratefulness for the sweet love...for the honest laughter....and even for the teaching that will take place - ....through my trio.
Let the fresh lessons begin....
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
The Blessings of Now
When my belly is all round and full and inhabited.... my mind isn't.
So sorry for the silence.
I've longed to sit still here and let my mind park for a while on blog writing - but there's a babe filling out my belly who seems to be taking in all of me. Including my ability to form rational, coherent thoughts :)
This boy - he should be here within a month. And his Mama is ready. His room isn't. Our house isn't. His closet isn't. The family vehicle isn't. His crib isn't. But my dazed mind and heavy body - they are ready, yes :)
However....
The blonds and their Daddy and I went to a small, intimate little Christmas concert a few nights ago. And with the house lights down low and the band ringing out Jesus - my two little fair-haired babes lounged on my lap. With one on each leg - they reclined over my blossoming mid-section...their wombed baby brother kicking their backs the whole time.
And it hit me...."I'm holding all three of them."
And hit again as this thought dawned - "only a few more weeks - with my few."
"I'll have...three?"
And the sentiment of it all....the realization....left me teary. In all of my hurrying along....in all of my wishing this boy were already here....wishing that the birth pains were over....wishing that I was back in my good jeans - I've neglected the gift of sharing this time with my two.
As of today....I have a leg for each bottom. A shoulder for each head. A hand for each hand. An eye for each child's action. An ear for each child's song. I have that right now. And I'm rushing it, wishing it - away?
Foolishness? No....immature, selfish...foolishness.
How dare I? How dare I wish away the moments with my first two loves.
And while I wallow in the fact that I've already wasted precious, precious moments - I'm grateful that I've realized it before it's too, too late.
So in these weeks leading up to labor - Lord, help me to shift my focus. Help me to love on the loves I can wrap around and hold. Just the two of them. And all the while - prepare me...prepare us - for the addition. And as we welcome him into our home...into our hearts....let us have sweet remembrances of the few weeks leading up to no longer just being a few.
And Father....as we become a family of five....pour out Your grace on this household. The five year old...the two year old...the little one...their Daddy...and this Mama - can't love without Love. And we can't give of self without the Giver. And we can't share and model and embrace and exhault and pass down joy - real joy....without realizing Jesus.
It's perfect timing, really....
Oh God, as we count down to the birth of Christ....(and the birth of this babe burying his foot in my ribcage) - empower me to love and enjoy and embrace and realize....the gift that is coming - yes, but also the gifts that are already here:
So sorry for the silence.
I've longed to sit still here and let my mind park for a while on blog writing - but there's a babe filling out my belly who seems to be taking in all of me. Including my ability to form rational, coherent thoughts :)
This boy - he should be here within a month. And his Mama is ready. His room isn't. Our house isn't. His closet isn't. The family vehicle isn't. His crib isn't. But my dazed mind and heavy body - they are ready, yes :)
However....
The blonds and their Daddy and I went to a small, intimate little Christmas concert a few nights ago. And with the house lights down low and the band ringing out Jesus - my two little fair-haired babes lounged on my lap. With one on each leg - they reclined over my blossoming mid-section...their wombed baby brother kicking their backs the whole time.
And it hit me...."I'm holding all three of them."
And hit again as this thought dawned - "only a few more weeks - with my few."
"I'll have...three?"
And the sentiment of it all....the realization....left me teary. In all of my hurrying along....in all of my wishing this boy were already here....wishing that the birth pains were over....wishing that I was back in my good jeans - I've neglected the gift of sharing this time with my two.
As of today....I have a leg for each bottom. A shoulder for each head. A hand for each hand. An eye for each child's action. An ear for each child's song. I have that right now. And I'm rushing it, wishing it - away?
Foolishness? No....immature, selfish...foolishness.
How dare I? How dare I wish away the moments with my first two loves.
And while I wallow in the fact that I've already wasted precious, precious moments - I'm grateful that I've realized it before it's too, too late.
So in these weeks leading up to labor - Lord, help me to shift my focus. Help me to love on the loves I can wrap around and hold. Just the two of them. And all the while - prepare me...prepare us - for the addition. And as we welcome him into our home...into our hearts....let us have sweet remembrances of the few weeks leading up to no longer just being a few.
And Father....as we become a family of five....pour out Your grace on this household. The five year old...the two year old...the little one...their Daddy...and this Mama - can't love without Love. And we can't give of self without the Giver. And we can't share and model and embrace and exhault and pass down joy - real joy....without realizing Jesus.
It's perfect timing, really....
Oh God, as we count down to the birth of Christ....(and the birth of this babe burying his foot in my ribcage) - empower me to love and enjoy and embrace and realize....the gift that is coming - yes, but also the gifts that are already here:
Friday, December 2, 2011
An Event
Quiet again in these parts.
Yes, yes. We have another women's event tonight. And as always - prayers are much needed and much appreciated. May the Spirit move among us tonight and may the women in attendance gleefully receive Him!
My friend, Phyllis, is doing the teaching this time. Pray for her?
I hope you have a lovely weekend, friends. Blessings to you all :)
Yes, yes. We have another women's event tonight. And as always - prayers are much needed and much appreciated. May the Spirit move among us tonight and may the women in attendance gleefully receive Him!
My friend, Phyllis, is doing the teaching this time. Pray for her?
I hope you have a lovely weekend, friends. Blessings to you all :)
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Permission to Enjoy
It's okay to enter into the glee of things.
Really. It's alright.
It's all right. Because when we enter into the glee of things - we enter into gratefulness.
He's been whispering it lately...... "Enjoy Me."
He knows that I don't. And He knows why.
It's the being aware of the sick and the starving and the stricken. It's the waking up to a world with woes. To a world with despair and dilapidation. It's knowing that pictures on calenders are only a portion of the earth's portraits. The others? We couldn't stand to stare at the site of them. While they may not don our walls - they do dot the earth....snapshots of need and pain and torment....they are real.
Hence - the hesitancy to know joy.
He's been busting this up for me, though....
My blonds. They're giddy with delight as their young hands clinch mixing spoons - all ready to stir icing. And they laugh and they squeal and they dive into those bowls of goodness and they enjoy every lick. And I enjoy the smiles and the sticky fingers and the young joy on display in my kitchen. And the joy - yes - it leads to gratefulness.
And just as I attempt to stop myself - just as I begin putting up the walls to joy because I know others on earth will never have icing cross their lips - and I know other women will never have children graze in their kitchens (though they so long for it) - and I know that despair would love to have some part in my own future (oh, the what ifs).....just as I start to extinguish the fire of joy - the one I wed walks in.
And he sees the freshly licked spoons and the freshly used beater and he knows this icing must have been made to go atop something. A cake, perhaps? And he smiles wide - with his face pale from fasting through the day - and across the kitchen, over the heads of those we made....he shines out joy and says, "What's all this?" And as he sits with fork in hand next to our giddy ones - they savor and enjoy and relish in a simple dessert with icing. And they are grateful for the nutmeg. And the cinnamon. And the utensil. And the plate. And their teeth. And the taste. And they enjoy...and they give thanks. And so do I.
Enjoy the blessings. Look for the blessings. Take note of them. Let them bring laughter. Let them bring joy right in. The simple ones...like blonds having the chance to eat icing. And serious ones....sacred ones....like the joy of knowing Christ. Really knowing Him....it should bring joy! It should bring celebration! Yes!
And I'm so bad at this. And I still don't know what it should look like exactly. And I still find myself feeling guilty for having...just having. But I do know He has been whispering it....and I do know He wants me to be grateful, exuberant....inextinguishable - over what He's done for me. Not just materially, but spiritually.
And so yes....I will enter into glee. And He will enter into me and into the moments. And gratefulness will abound.
Really. It's alright.
It's all right. Because when we enter into the glee of things - we enter into gratefulness.
He's been whispering it lately...... "Enjoy Me."
He knows that I don't. And He knows why.
It's the being aware of the sick and the starving and the stricken. It's the waking up to a world with woes. To a world with despair and dilapidation. It's knowing that pictures on calenders are only a portion of the earth's portraits. The others? We couldn't stand to stare at the site of them. While they may not don our walls - they do dot the earth....snapshots of need and pain and torment....they are real.
Hence - the hesitancy to know joy.
He's been busting this up for me, though....
My blonds. They're giddy with delight as their young hands clinch mixing spoons - all ready to stir icing. And they laugh and they squeal and they dive into those bowls of goodness and they enjoy every lick. And I enjoy the smiles and the sticky fingers and the young joy on display in my kitchen. And the joy - yes - it leads to gratefulness.
And just as I attempt to stop myself - just as I begin putting up the walls to joy because I know others on earth will never have icing cross their lips - and I know other women will never have children graze in their kitchens (though they so long for it) - and I know that despair would love to have some part in my own future (oh, the what ifs).....just as I start to extinguish the fire of joy - the one I wed walks in.
And he sees the freshly licked spoons and the freshly used beater and he knows this icing must have been made to go atop something. A cake, perhaps? And he smiles wide - with his face pale from fasting through the day - and across the kitchen, over the heads of those we made....he shines out joy and says, "What's all this?" And as he sits with fork in hand next to our giddy ones - they savor and enjoy and relish in a simple dessert with icing. And they are grateful for the nutmeg. And the cinnamon. And the utensil. And the plate. And their teeth. And the taste. And they enjoy...and they give thanks. And so do I.
Enjoy the blessings. Look for the blessings. Take note of them. Let them bring laughter. Let them bring joy right in. The simple ones...like blonds having the chance to eat icing. And serious ones....sacred ones....like the joy of knowing Christ. Really knowing Him....it should bring joy! It should bring celebration! Yes!
"Is there a greater way to love the Giver than to delight wildly in His gifts?"
- Ann Voskamp in One Thousand Gifts
And I'm so bad at this. And I still don't know what it should look like exactly. And I still find myself feeling guilty for having...just having. But I do know He has been whispering it....and I do know He wants me to be grateful, exuberant....inextinguishable - over what He's done for me. Not just materially, but spiritually.
And so yes....I will enter into glee. And He will enter into me and into the moments. And gratefulness will abound.
What do you think this looks like lived out? Do share. May you have a lovely, joy-filled day.
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