Wednesday, October 10, 2012

His Presence via email

Have you ever felt the Lord's Presence so heavily that you literally sunk deeper in your chair?

Last week was rough. Looking back, it's a blur. I was so exhausted, the days were so long, and the kids were so fussy that the memory of last week is nearly lost.

I know that the Lord was busily at work during every sleepless detail of last week but I was too irritable to appreciate it.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23

This morning I sent my husband and my sister an email to share with them a Henry & Harper quote. It said:

H&H were running laps around the house, and both of them came into the family room huffing and puffing. Henry said, "I'm tired." Then Harper said, "I'm tired too. Let's read our Bibles, Henry."

Within 20 minutes of sending the email I received responses from both Matt and Morgan.

Matt said, "Love them . . . Matthew 11:28 Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."

I stinkin' adore this man. While I'm over here laughing at the silliness of my three-year-old, my husband, a man of few spoken words but a tremendous amount of wisdom, manages to observe the beautiful Truth from this seemingly cute illustration. I want to soak myself in a Matthew 11:28 bath for a few days.

Morgan's response was equally lovely.

She said, "Those moments have to melt your heart . . . Love that. I booked you a pedicure with Dawn on Friday. I'm watching your kids."

Oh, Morgan, you speak my love language = Dawn (and I have a gift card that Matt gave me for Mother's Day - thank you, Jesus). I have known (and loved) Dawn for years. Her chair at the Spa where my sister works is heaven-sent. It sits next to a window that looks out at a sanctuary of birdhouses, and when I sit in that chair and watch those birds, without a single interruption from my kids, I become a new woman. A new woman with cute toes.

I received Matt and Morgan's emails and I was instantly overwhelmed by the Lord's merciful Presence. I want to sit here and rest in their unexpected and simple acts of love as I know it will only be minutes before I lose sight of His goodness. Thankfully Lamentations 3 never expires.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Already

The kids were still in their swimsuits sucking down popsicles when I blinked. I opened my eyes to the warmth of Autumn in the trees and its chill prickling my shoulders. The clerk mentioned he was staying late to unpack Christmas inventory and by the time I lifted my head to comment Already?, the twinkle lights were wrapped around the display tree.

Already.

The pool towels hadn't even made it through the wash before the kids were hooded in fleece. I'm never ready for the already.

The notebook pages curl as I carry over the list of unchecked items to next month. Vacuum the van. Mend the hole in my overworn shirt. Send congratulatory wedding card to my friend who married last Spring.

I pray through each moment, asking that the leaves keep their glorious shades of orange and that  Greta's chubby foot is forever nestled below my shoulder as I nurse. All while fantasizing about the day when the kids use the bathroom unassisted and my wardrobe isn't limited to nursing tops and elastic. I want to co-sleep yet sleep through the night. I want a substantial payday yet not another long day away from my husband. I want to be home with my children yet have more time for myself. I want that pair of pre-baby jeans yet another of Grandma Abby's pumpkin cookies.

I want the already but I don't. I'm a mess and it's no wonder Paul preaches about the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.

And when I think I've arrived, when I am full and surrounded abundantly, emptiness and discomfort come and plop down on my lap. My present focus flees as they squelch my contentment. The next stage and season bring more to be desired. And it all flies past, the days only a blur leaving nothing in focus.

There is always more space for me to be filled by Him . . . through Him who gives me strength.

It is already October. I want to sprawl out on a pile of leaves covered in the giggles of my babies, drinking in this season. But my mind is my enemy, squandering the days with angst and if onlys, allowing Facebook to fool me into believing that there is such a thing as having it all. So I find myself crying out, enduring my own wrath, my irritability and frantic demands. My own mess throws me to my knees, I fall bruised and sore. And in the already He lifts me up by His grace and fills me with living water and I kick myself for not falling sooner. There is humility in His timing. 

It is already.







 






*A sprinkling of the moments I want to savor from the last month as I pray to be present and content in the already.