It isn’t the initial break of the wave that causes the damage. It is the receding, that carries with it the pieces. Time after time, wave after wave, thought after thought. Those pieces, those grains of sand, the innocence, or parts of us that will never return except by some miracle. If the initial break was one and done, we might be able to move on quicker, having not lost as much. So it feels like in life- break of wave after break of wave, pain after pain, taking, always taking pieces of our soul. Until what? What are we left with? It certainly isn’t the same as where it started. Once full of life and plenty, is now stripped away, compacted, desolate. I don’t need these same pieces back, those ones taken out to sea, but how can life be restored? What can bring consolation?
Time.
For alas, a different wave fills in. One that is meant to build back what its counterpart has robbed. This sand is different. Purified by the sea. This new life is better than the last. To have lost but regained something better is bittersweet and often painful, but necessary for life to move on. Alas, I trust, I lean into, I wait for that which only time, that is to say the Lord will repair in the natural process.
CS Lewis reflected on Mary talking to “the gardener” with the empty tomb in the background and says “You can’t see anything properly while your eyes are blurred with tears.” A true sentiment of last weekend walking through Good Friday and what I call Silent Saturday. Days marked by grief, tears and complexity.
Then Easter!! Resurrection Sunday!! A time of celebration!! The day of victory over death!!
It is filled with worship, family, and activity. Yet, amidst the beauty, there is often so much commotion that the day passes too quickly for us to fully recognize the holy, life-giving miracle that has taken place. It can feel like opening a long-awaited gift in haste- never pausing to read the card, acknowledge the giver, or recognize that the gift was thoughtfully prepared long ago in response to our deepest need.
Then comes the week after Easter… A week meant for continued celebration has, for me, felt unusually quiet. Even silent.
My inner self feeling more unrest than jubilee. The world, and frankly my old self whispers questions… Where is my God? Why isn’t He speaking to me? Why is He distant?
But my renewed mind responds differently. If He is silent, so too shall I remain- not silent in separation, but silent in posture. Still. Attentive. Trusting. I see Him in the room, not with my human eyes, but with my heart- a heart that sees through faith. It rests in the promise of a Father who is faithful, One who has assured us He will never leave nor forsake us. If He is present, then there must be a purpose in the silence or perhaps I am simply learning to listen more deeply.
So, like the disciples after the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, I will wait. I will stay in the city until what has been promised is sent.
Holy Spirit Come!!
Sometimes life requires us to trust in what is known rather than what is seen. Sometimes faith is not expressed in movement, but in stillness. Sometimes the most faithful next step is simply to Linger Longer.
Today is what we celebrate as her adoption day. But it’s like she has been with us forever. A precious gift spoken into existence since before the beginning of time.
I love the toddler/preschool stage. All the wonder, exploring and discovering ways of doing things. It makes us young again. Of course, there are also all the things that remind us daily of how old we are, like how she mimics our groaning everytime we get our bodies up off the floor, lol. There’s really no rhyme or reason to a 3 yr old’s mind. However, the Lord uses her daily to remind us of His love.
A few months ago, I sensed my ‘word of the year’ was “naked” as I have been in this process spiritually of throwing off my old grave clothes, including the ill-fitting ones that others try to put on me. It’s a very awkward and vulnerable thing…those spiritually naked transitions…especially when it feels like everyone’s eyes are turned in your direction. It forces one to hone in directly on the Lord’s face and trust that He has the process covered. My tendency is to hurry that process along by searching for the clothes that will cover me quickly. I went to bed one night thinking about all this and was disheartened that nothing ‘fit’ me. The expectations others had didn’t fit and the expectations I had of myself didn’t fit. I was beginning to wonder if I heard correctly and that this pastoring thing was what I was called to.
I woke up in the morning to find that Everly had emptied all of her recently washed & folded clothes out of her dresser drawer… for the millionth time. Frustration started to well up again in me but then I noticed that she had found the necklace a good friend gave us on her adoption day that was hidden in the back of her top drawer. She somehow managed to get it out of the box and over her head holding it tightly and close to her heart with one of her little hands. I went to pry her fingers off it and to take it from around her neck to tuck it back into its little velvet box safe and sound. When I did, the Lord quickened my spirit as I read what was engraved on the outside of it – the word “Chosen.”
Immediately, tears rolled down my face as The Message translation of Matthew 11:28-30 came to mind –
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” (emphasis mine)
I watched her dance around proudly in her pj’s while all the other clothes laid there scattered on the floor. She didn’t care what she was wearing. Although she doesn’t have the words yet to process, she senses deep in her being that she is loved and chosen. She didn’t choose her situation, but she is loved and chosen by Him.
His voice echoed through my mind – “I didn’t choose these circumstances for you, but make no mistake, you are chosen by Me. No matter how naked it feels, I’m right here with you. Being naked and transparent before Me…you can’t get any freer and lighter than that! Allow Me to clothe you myself. Shake off the grave clothes and ill-fitting mantels and live…dancing along with the rhythms of my grace and in the fullness of what I have for you.”
So we danced. On and off all day long. In our pj’s. As His daughters.
Adorned with this beautiful word that hang close to and is sealed upon our hearts… ”Chosen.”
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