Worry

Yesterday we went to the beach. A friend invited us with them and I am so grateful. Little Man, and I had more fun than I remember having at a beach before. Once the wind and sun became too much we decided to go to the boardwalk. Generally, I avoid places that are only fun if you have money to spend. The boardwalk is one of those places; shops, arcades, restaurants are the main attractions. Fun in the sand and surf are much easier and cheaper to enjoy at state parks. Still, the friend wanted to go, and I was along for the ride – we certainly didn’t want to go home yet! As we were walking the last place we came to was a small amusement park. I was hoping to just walk past and not draw attention to the rides and games sure to lure my three-year-old but it seems we were destined to stop in front and then circle it to find bathrooms. Keith was being so good. He didn’t ask to go on any rides but I saw him eyeing them hungrily. I had told him no to several things already so I decided to splurge $5 on tickets.

I asked what ride he wanted first. He zoned in on the Farris Wheel. The cars, boats, even the carousel were right in front of us but the small Farris Wheel off in the corner caught his eye and enthusiasm. I have never seen him so excited. We squeezed in (it was for little kids).
“Mommy! It’s going up! Yay. Yay Yay Yay, Yay!”

“Yeah, it’s going up.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “You can see all the rides from up here. How ‘bout you pick out the next ride you want to go on?”

The excitement on my little man’s face was quickly replaced by a flash of anxiety. I recognized that look. As he started looking out the side, uncertain of his choice, I realized I was training him to worry. This beautiful little man was enjoying his first taste of an amusement park ride. His face was full of joy as he went “up - up to the sky!” How dare I take it away from him? Why was I so uncomfortable enjoying his moment with him?  

There are not many moments in my life when I haven’t been looking to the future instead of enjoying the present. I don’t know why I get stuck thinking about the future but I know I’m in good company. In fact, Christ even tells his disciples; “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble if its own.” Matt 6:34. It seems so simple when He puts it that way. Yet, I’m left praying, “How?” I am a visual and kinesthetic (hands-on) learner… I don’t get it. It’s nice to be told I don’t need to worry. But, please Lord, show me!

He has been showing me, and with each release of a concern to Him He has filled its hole in my mind and heart with peace. There are so many lessons! Sometimes it feels a large boulder has been lifted from my shoulders – like when He taught me to tithe on an income less than I needed pay my bills. Other times, it feels like a slow trickle of sand being released through my fingers – as, for example, He teaches me to lean on Him in the uncertainty of singleness. Yet, the Father knows the clearest way to get my attention is through my son.  How much has my constant looking to the future affected him?  Does he feel my restlessness in our present circumstances?

I squeezed his shoulder. “Actually Baby, lets save picking our next ride for when we get off.”

“Thanks, Mommy.” He relaxed and the look of joy returned to his face. As we climbed “up-up to the sky” he looked around in excitement pointing out things below us… and I bit my impulse to tell him it was going to be ok.  

Veil

My soul is wrapped in layers of gauze. 
Sunlight now filters through dimly, 
Bringing hope to healing's desperate cause. 
The layers are unraveling slowly. 
The plaster encasing already washed clean, 
I am whole! I am pure! I resonate sweetly. 
Yet, I am unseen. 
Still hidden in my gauzing, 
Skin itching in the healing unknown. 
I hear His voice calling,
He shows me new things everyday.
Each layer of gauze around me unwrapping.
Look to Me, I hear my Master say
See My nails, My blood, My cross. 
Here, at y feet, your burdens lay. 
My former self lays at the cross.
Amazed, I hear the Master call my name;
He anoints me with an alabaster grace. 
Unwinding gauze removes my shame
I am stunned as He unveils my own beauty,
That radiant kindness could come from such pain!
I kneel with overwhelmed humility
That this man could love one such as I!
My heart and knees tremble in my frailty. 
He takes my hand and bids me rise,
As He lifts the final veil
To kiss his Bride.

What Can I Bring?

There is something unnerving about being the one with little give. It is an overwhelming feeling to sit and offer your best and see how meager it looks amongst the lavish plenty the gifts around you. No one would point out that your small, handmade contribution, a scarf or cookies, is neither necessary or “just what they wanted.” How could they know that their gift cost late nights and cranky toddler mornings and the last of my cough syrup or the $5 you wanted to spend on razors last month?  They thank you graciously and move on to the next gift. The larger gift, the more interesting gift, and, let's face it- the more desirable gift.

I was still stewing over how out-of-place I felt at our holiday meal as my legs itched and I hoped the last of my deodorant was strong enough for all the hugs. In the light of day I regretted prattling on about the surprise missing pay and wanting to do better. If nothing else, I could have gifted them with a cheerful heart and saved them my griping. If only I saved my dignity…

What good would that have been? How much more worth is my humility?

My son is singing Little Drummer Boy. “Bom-bom-bom. Gift for a King. Bom-Bom-Bom Bom.” His little three-year-old voice sings out. In the back of my mind I hear another refrain. In the Bleak Midwinter was always a favorite of mine but I had not thought of the second verse in a long time.

“What can I bring him

Poor that I am?

If I were a Shepherd

I would bring a lamb.

If I were a Wise man

I would do my part.

But what have I to give him?

-Give my heart.”

With money so tight God has been training me how to use it these last few months. Tithing. Giving. I made so many excuses. Finally, by July I started giving in. There have been some lapses and whining; “Is the church really going to miss my $80 a month more than I’ll miss my heat if I don’t pay the gas bill?” Then I am reminded - My Father owns the cattle on a thousand hills. He can provide for my church with or without my help. He can also provide for me. He has big plans for me. If I cannot trust him with little, how can I trust him for much? What use am I to him with my talents buried in the ground? Can I give $10? Can I give 10%? Can I empty my wallet at his altar and do so joyfully? He promises blessings for those who give for him.

My blessing today was the renewed gift of humility and a joy from the God who placed his most costly, homemade gift into a world that said, “Oh that’s nice.” and reached for the next gift.

31 Day Challenge: Home

I got stuck on Home
Trying to create images of what I want home to be.
I got lost trying to find it
In the past, in the future, daydreaming or waxing nostalgic.
I tried to paint a picture of a sunlit kitchen
But I couldn't see past the holes in the walls.
I would describe dancing to music through housework,
But I couldn't hear past the sobs in the bathroom.
I got stuck on Home
Yet as I tried to create my heart's picture
The darker the hope grew around me
Until I couldn't see life for the walls.

I got stuck at Home
So I went out looking for ways to fix it.
Home is where you feel welcome and comfortable.
Maybe I can do that.
Daddy, here's your coffee, it's just the way you like it.
Let me stay here in your office if I find a good excuse.
Home is where they accept you unconditionally.
Maybe I can make that.
Momma, you can't leave him, no one else would want you,
But if you want another life, leave me also when you go.
Home is where they hold you when you're hurting.
Maybe I can find that.
Mom I'll touch your shoulder even if you can't touch mine,
And if I need someone to cry on, someone always offers
Just be back before the morning and no one has to know.

I got stuck in Home
As I picture mom at the table with her Bible open,
Coffee in hand, dishes unwashed, hair unbrushed
Telling me; "I'm lost without God's Word in the morning."
All I can think is "Are you sure, Momma?
'Cause the next time you throw the paddle at us it'll be lost too.
And not 'under the bed' or 'buried in the garden' lost."
I got stuck in Home
As I remember Dad in his office
Lost in a book, hiding in the pages of the past or fantastic
Escaping from the stresses that he shouldn't have to deal with,
Deaf to the stories outside his own head.
I got stuck in Home
As my brother stopped arguing, stopped stealing, stopped fighting
Until he stopped talking and just picked at his scabs
His pillows he bloodied, his sheets they were bloody
They yelled and he picked and they yelled at him more.
I got stuck in Home.
All problems were my problem, the problem I caused.
I had kept them together when they wanted freedom
I had sought him for succor when I wanted love.
I got stuck in Home
And I had to fix it, fix it and take on the burdens I caused.

I got stuck with Home
Its jammed now on repeat
The past and the present and the future I fear.
I got stuck with Home
It's how I learn forgiveness
Because Home is where the Hurt is,
It's where I learn repentance
For the pain that I inflict
It's where I show that grace lives
For pain and hurt were prerequisites
For understanding people and learning how to live.
I got stuck with Home
For it is still the harbor for my little thing with feathers
Until my soul is healed enough to bear it on its own.

31 Day Challenge: Embrace

What emboldens me so;
to reach across my heart and release
a smile deeper than has yet seen light of day?

My arms wrap a frozen soul
and my own breath is not enough
to ease these wracking, fearful shivers.

I long to revive my heart,
you distract my attempts to breath
my own warmth to thaw its permafrost. 

An embrace like no other
warms my flesh, soothes my brow
as old fears are stirred into wonderment.

Warmth trickles down,
past the lump in my throat,
whispering a hope for spring seeds.

Dear Son,

I pray you will be strong and gentle,

That your greatest battles will be with your mind and heart,

And your fiercest weapons are hope and love.

Be a warrior my son, and don't be afraid of anger and pain,

They are the bedfellows of justice and understanding.

Woo kindness and mercy,

For they will bless you with greater riches

Than the pursuit of prosperity and luck.

I pray you find love.

But while you look, remember, love is not a person,

It is an art to be honed and practiced in all recesses of the world.

I pray you will think deeply, love deeply, dream deeply.

But when the day comes that your dreams are crushed

When your picture of love is indistinguishable,

When your thoughts become jumbled and unruly;

When darkness falls and you're blind from fear,

When you've misplaced your sword

I will still lay my head next to yours

And softly kiss your brow,

I will pray.

31 Day Challenge: Capture

Capture my interest you capture my thoughts
Capture my thoughts you capture my heart
Capture my heart you capture my soul.

Capture my soul, you have my hand
Capture my hand, you have my life.
Capture my life... Oh to capture my life.

I long to be hostage to a heart and hand.
Yet, I long to be free,
to wander alone with only the wind whispering in my ear.

Capture me, chase and beguile me.
Captivate and claim me
But set me free on a sun beset moor and place your heart on a hill.

Capture me, raptured by your heart on the hill in the distance.
Capture me, striving to close the gap.
Capture me, each night as I reach out to grasp you setting beyond the hill.