Tuesday, February 22, 2011

The burning heart

This morning wasn't been one of the best.
I was up way too late last night exercising,
making it much too difficult to settle down to sleep.

Lack of sleep
(whom I really have no one to blame but myself)
coupled with two grouchy boys,
freezing rain,
and realization that Shawn is on-call yet again...
didn't make me the best mama this morning.
As I was about to rage on the world,
trying to maneuver slow munchkins out the door,
with not nearly enough caffeine in the veins,

Rush, rush, rush.
Push, shove,
move, jostle, 
hurry, hurry, 
come on! 

the phrase, "Life is not an emergency,"
sang to my heart.

When I took pause and really considered my life,
when I looked at my immediate need at hand,
it was apparent.

My life right now, is not an emergency.

Being 2 minutes late to preschool
will not make much of a difference in the grand scheme of life.
And that is the truth.

What is it then that rages?
What is it then within me that makes me think that emergencies are everywhere?
The laundry pile.
The spilled milk.
The getting out of bed.
Again.
And again.

Annoying, yes.
Emergency, no.
Let's be real.

There is not much in life that is a true emergency.

So, what is it then?
Perhaps it is buying into scarcity.
That things are quickly slipping away.
That my control is fading.
That there will not be enough
time,
energy,
effort,
resources.
There is never enough.

But what is the truth?
The real truth?
Can I handle the truth? (insert joke here.)

The truth is,
is that God has given us all we need.
God is a God of abundance,
not scarcity.
Everything is in God's hands.
And I'm being invited to notice it.
To slow down enough,
to see these moments for what they really are.
And they are not emergencies.

And so, when things get really ramped up,
both in boys,
chores,
and in soul;
I breath in again Jehovah-jirah,
and say,

"I have been given all I need."

And my eyes are opened.
For there is abundance here.

Lots of arms (big and small) to pick up toys.
Luxury and convenience of having a dishwasher.
Sunshine peaking out from the clouds during rush hour traffic.

Perhaps this is how those two felt
when they walked the long road towards Emmaus.
Panic,
confusion,
bewilderment,
was their journey.
But it was in the breaking of bread,
in the mystery shared,
they saw that they had all they needed.
From the very beginning.

"Were not our hearts burning within us 
as he was talking with us along the road?"
Luke 24:32

May your emergencies be transformed into Emmaus' today.
Much bread for the journey for you today.
And always.




Sunday, February 20, 2011

Con-man

A picture to get your week off to a good start...

I'm a lucky Mama.
And a procrastinating Mama.
(But I did manage to get his 2yr. pictures taken just shy of two and a half.
It counts, right?)

Yes, look at those eyes and smile...you can tell I have my hands full.

But full they also are of:
laughter,
trucks,
books,
hugs,
and
jokes.

A G-man original coming to a Second City near you:
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Cookie.
Cookie who?
Cookie monster!
Yummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
(In a very realistic Cookie Monster voice, I might add.)

Connor, my heart smiles looking into your dark brown eyes.
You. are. a. gift.
Even when I know those brown eyes are saying much more...


...like, "Where's the Kleenex?"

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Play is the name of the game

How many times do I hear this phrase a day?


"Mom will you play with me?"


Like, somewhere in the ballpark of a hundred-million-gazillion times.
Give or take a few.

Lately, Owen, who still loves his safari escapades, begs me to play animals with him each and every afternoon...or basketball...or hockey...or Master Mind...or his made-up games like "ball-catch" where we roll small balls on the ground and try to catch it with a teacup from the play kitchen.

...during the time when Connor is sleeping and laundry needs to be folded, lunch dishes need to be cleared and washed, and/or sitting down with a drink and book really looks appealing.  He generally is pretty good about playing by himself for awhile, as I get some of the above done or rest.

Which is completely fine.
And appropriate.
He needs to learn to play by himself and have some alone quiet time.
And so do I.

But in the midst of doing my now fine-tuned crocodile-hunter Steve Irwin voice, during a recent mid-afternoon safari, I realized again in a new way that the simple question of, "Mom will you play with me?" is just another way of Owen wanting connection.  Of me completely paying full-attention to him without distraction of his brother or father.  Because let's be real.  My full attention to him or anyone doesn't come by too often.

And so answering in the affirmative is not only a way of me tangibly showing him my love,
that I value him and his creativity,
and want to spend time with him,
above the things that can wait;

but also, that this is his 4-year old way of sharing his love for me.

That he values me so much,
that he is choosing me to play.
He wants me.
He enjoys spending time with me.

For play is his love language.

And so I will play.
Because I do love him.
More than he will ever know.
And that by accepting his play,
I am also accepting the love he offers to me.

I'm sure this phrase will change over the years,
"Can I have some money?"
"Can I take the car?"
Perhaps even,
"Leave me alone."
But I pray that I have the ears to hear underneath it all,
his longings of love,
and accept what he offers.

But for now....even right-now as I finish up this post...
"Will you play with me?" reigns.
And so he crawls up on my lap, and we play.






Monday, February 14, 2011

On death, Love, and living life

Quiet moments don't come by me real often in this house full of testosterone. Because I know, it if is too quiet...there is a reason. And it is often not good.  And if often involves a mess.  Usually a large one.  So no, quiet moments don't come by often.

But I need them.
The quiet, not necessarily the mess (although it comes with the turf)!

I need them to think, to reflect, to just...be.

It's how I stay focused, keep mindful, fill my patience tank.
Being in the quiet reorients me to what these days are all about.

In the quiet, I am reminded that the messes,
the games,
the food,
the diapers,
the errands...,
is really just love disguised in different packages.

Giving myself out of love to those I've been entrusted with.
Offering Love and the best of me.

Although I fail often...
fall short way too much of the time,
because love is self-sacrifice...
which is hard.

But I hope that at the end of the day,
at the end of my life,
that my boys will gather around me,
and give thanks.

Not for what I did,
not for what I accomplished,
but for the Love that they felt,
experienced,
came to know.

And I pray that with them,
I will release my soul into the hands of Love,
the Source that holds everything together.

I am realizing more and more,
that I can only offer Love 
and truly live life,
when I am able to face death.

And as I look at death in the face,
holding its gaze squarely in the eye,
I realize that it no longer holds fear over me.
Because Love holds me still.  
And will not let go. 

Facing death I find,
that there is really nothing to fear at all,
for life will go on...
and on...
and on.......

Love gives us, then, 
the ability to live.
To truly live.
And to live well.

Because as I know Love,
I am able to offer Love,
and this Love moves,
breathes,
and enlivens my being.
And living like this,
enwrapped in Love,
is the best way to live.

On this Valentine's Day,
may you experience Love like no other,
this Love which is offered to each of us,
candles or not,
roses or not,
lover or not,
for truly the source of all that is Sweet,
holds you close.

May you feel this embrace today,
and hold on tight.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

True love

This afternoon had all the hopes and expectations that a mother needed.

A break.
A respite.
An afternoon getting her haircut and colored.
By herself.

However, when your hairstylist who washes out your color (for the second-time around to correct the first blunder) says, "Well, I don't love it...it's not perfect...but it will do," you can just throw expectation and hope out the window.

(Note:  why is finding the right hairstylist in a new town just about as difficult as finding the pair for the leftover sock that is always left after all of the laundry is done.)

Then to top it off, she took my layers just a bit too short, while leaving the bottom long.
Cue the she-mullet.

Needless to say, as immature as it sounds,
as hard as I tried not to,
tears rolled.
Rolling like a river.

My poor, dear husband.
What he deals with...

Ding!
My inbox message alert goes off.
I open to read the text from my ICE:

"You are so beautiful to me even if you are a copper colored business on top, party in the back woman!"

I am blessed to have this guy.
I'm choosing to rock the mullet with my main squeeze on my arm,
knowing that my hair will grow out,
but thank God he won't.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Making the list

Lately, I've felt really demanding.

Demanding of my husband.
The one who already gives so much,
to his family,
to the ones who sit in darkness of pain and suffering. 

Demanding of my boys--
why can't they do more?
why can't they listen?
why can't they (for the love of all things holy) be quiet. for. one. minute?

Even demanding of myself--
to do more,
to be more.

It is exhausting to live like this.  
Each morning I wake up feeling like I am on a treadmill.
Run, run, run.
But where am I going?
What do I really want? 

I have felt convicted today to see my life through the lens of gratitude. 

Because gratitude warms the cold demands. 
Gratitude deepens the soul.
Gratitude sees all life as a gift.
Every moment is holy--it is to be honored, 
not rushed,
imposed upon,
demanded. 

This is love.

Gratitude--to be grateful,
to be full of grace,
that which is given as gift. 
To see that which is gift.
God, grant me eyes to see.

But this can only be learned through practice. 
I need to do gratitude. 
I can't just hope it will come.
I can't just wish it here.
I need to do it. 

And so I write these daily glimpses of grace,
life given as gift,
to silence the demands,
the demons that try to steal my life,
my joy,
my love.

1. A warm bed that grew 4 additional legs and arms overnight.
2. Quiet, slow afternoons.
3. The smell of the clean dishes.
4. The squeals of chase. 
5. Sister-in-laws that are like sisters.

It is working...
my soul smiles deep within. 
Peace nudges the dark.
Life is blessed.

And so, I will continue to write.  
I will continue to make my list.

For as I do, the demands of my soul...
the places of darkness within that call out discontent,
are hushed. 

And grace rushes in.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Daily bread

Our recent move to Virginia, as good and as smooth as it has been, 
hasn't necessarily been...
easy.


Financially speaking, we went from a good salary and a half, 
with no real housing costs, limited food and transportation costs; 
to receiving a fellow stipend with which to pay housing, food, and transportation.  


Like I said, it hasn't necessarily been...
easy.


But it has been eye-opening and faith-widening.


I've experienced a measure of life in the desert.
But manna always comes in the morning.


Today, it rained down clothes.


She didn't know. She was just clearing out sizes too small from her half-head taller boy. A simple gesture, really.  Sorting clothes, giving them away.  It just to happened that we really needed some new shirts for our strapping son who seems to grow inches overnight.  She didn't know that her sorting and folding were Holy.  She was the arm of God dusting our earth with bit of heaven, manna sustaining us one more day.


Trusting in God's provision has been a steep learning curve for me.  


What is enough?  


Even when our storehouses were full and overflowing, budgets were thrown to the wind, bellies were well-satisfied, there was still a part of me that craved more.  


So, what is enough?


St. Tersea of Avila wrote,




God alone is enough.
Let nothing upset you,
let nothing startle you.
All things pass;
God does not change.
Patience wins
all it seeks.
Whoever has God
lacks nothing:
God alone is enough.






Enough is God.
But if I'm real honest, the cynical part of me wonders if this is easy for me to say, knowing that my situation is temporary.  
Does it sound trite and too simple?  
Reckless and irresponsible? 

Maybe.
But in the deepest part of my soul knows this still to be true. 
For my soul will always be searching...
My soul will never be at rest until it is in God.
With money in the bank or not. 

The humanity of me wants to hoard. 
I want to gather more manna than what I need for the day.
I want a check for $50k to land in my direct deposit to ease 
the black/red line each month. 
I want to grasp/cling at relationships to ease the pain of being alone and new.
I want to over-plan and over-function to control my future.
But really, that would be the easy way out. 
Because it blinds me from seeing God's daily movement.

And so I pray the only way I know how,
"...give us this day our daily bread..."

Bread, given daily.
Sustaining my needs for today.
Knowing that tomorrow's bread will come...
tomorrow. 

Sunday, February 6, 2011

All by myself

He did it.
The little one, after much anguish and writhing,
finally did it.
The PJ's were on.
By himself.
All by himself.

It makes me pause and wonder how often I am like him,
writhing and wiggling,
squirming and pouting...
trying to do life myself.
All by myself. (Insert 1975 song by Eric Carmen here.)

For what ends?
To show that I'm independent?
Strong-willed?
Tough?
That these traits are somehow better?
More desirable?
That I am somehow better?

But we were never meant to be alone.
Back when Creation was formed, there was Adam and Eve.
Even the animals went into the ark two by two.
Life is meant to be lived together--in tandem.
Bearing with one another,
encouraging,
supporting.

I was reminded of something that I said awhile ago to Shawn--
the lover of my life,
companion on the journey,
the one who truly makes me a better person...
as he was going through some recent vocational angst...
six simple words,
that cut to the heart.
"Let me hold that for you."

What a gift to offer another.
An offer to hold for the another, what is too difficult to bear alone.
To walk with.
To laugh with.
Love with.
This is how life was meant to be lived.
Together.

Jesus said, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  ~Matthew 11:28-30