Saturday, October 30, 2010

unneeded

I look around the room, knowing He had promised to interact with us through them.

The little children.

The room is full. Wall to wall there are occupied chairs and plates filled with pizza and children scrambling around and tripping over each other.

I laid down a slice of pepperoni pizza for one of my favorite boys. He's eleven. Already old enough to hide his emotions more than most. Already concerned about what we think about him. Another one of my favorites is still so excited about life his eyes light up. A third is insecure and is often picked on and bullied - especially by adults. But he is a musician and he absorbs everything I say to him. The fourth is quiet and attentive and helpful, and all boy. Each of them have a special place in my heart.

They didn't start eating right away. And in my chaotic mind, I didn't understand why. I leaned over and put my hand on one of their shoulders and told them to go ahead. They smiled and nodded.

And then they bowed their heads.

What??

You know I don't really need you in order to do this work... right?

Days like today I feel ill equipped and unprepared. I am not strong enough. I am not wise enough. I am not friendly enough. I am not faithful enough to do this work.

Days like today my heart is so full of love for these children that I am brought to tears. All I want is to see them love the Father and live great stories with their lives. In each of their faces I see change and hope and light.

There were four who had stolen my heart. Four children whose faces are burned in my memory. When I am sixty years old and people ask why I do what I do, I will tell them their names. That is what they mean to me.

But they are gone now. Moved to a different neighborhood. And there are still some nights when I feel lost without them. My arms feel empty, because they loved me too, I think.

But their salvation... their well being... their protection was not in my hands.

And as quickly as those four stole every last bit of my heart, they were gone.

In their absence, I hear our Father whispering. Whispering about His love for us, His children. We who stole His heart. We whose faces are burned in His memory. When asked why He did what He did, He says our names.

And we move out of His neighborhood. Walk out from under His protection. Wander away from the places He dwells. And I wonder if His arms feel a little empty without us.

It is through this I am able to catch a glimpse of the finite reflecting the infinite. I am overwhelmed by how much He loves us. And how hard He is working.

When He speaks again, it is gently.

I can do this work without you.

This is both a truth that relieves and a truth that humbles.

I want to use you to do it. I have called you to this. I will use this place to change you. But you have to remember. I don't need you...

He doesn't need us the way we need Him. Our Father, whose strength is best displayed in our weaknesses and shortcomings, does not need us to be able to do anything.

Even better though, He wants us.

He desires us.

He misses us.

But when, in the chaos, I forget to teach my children about thankfulness, our Father is already moving. Stirring in their purity and captivating their innocence. Even if it is just a prayer over pizza. I didn't teach them that.

I am not...

Fill in the blank.

I love One who Is.

If I don't need you to do this, then I am big enough to do the rest as well. Ask Me. Ask Me to do what you cannot. Ask Me to come and be stronger than you. To overcome. I'll do it. Just ask.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

A New Word

I was whispering earlier.

Did you need Me to be a little louder?

I love you.

Every time the wind blows, I want you to think of Me.

I am going to show up.

I am going to reveal Myself to you in unexpected ways.

Be looking.

You will know Me when you see Me.

-

I've been talking to you.

And I've been laughing at You a little bit, because you're getting so impatient.

There are things, new things, I am doing right under your nose.

You can't see them. But I think you trust Me a little more than you used to.

I've been whispering.

You've been asking Me to wake up your soul.

You've been asking Me to show you risks.

(Two of My very favorite things, by the way.)

Sometimes I like to get loud though.

That scares you, doesn't it?

Don't be scared this time. This time, I want you to get excited.

Remember that walk we took about seven years ago?

I gave you a dream.

Which turned into a passion.

Which has grown into a mission.

I'm doing a new thing.

-

I've been whispering.

Did you need Me to be a little louder?

I love you.

I am doing something.

Don't worry.

You've been waiting.

But I will finish this work I started in you.

Don't become complacent.

Don't forget about Me in the midst of the things about to happen.

Seek Me.

Do My work.

Love My kids.

-

When I get quiet again, don't lose heart.

I am fighting for you.

Get to know My face. The work of My hands. The sound of My voice. The stillness of My shadow.

I want you to be familiar with the places I am. And I want you to stand where I have just been.

Get ready.

I'm about to give you a new word.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Breathing

Infinite.

Infinite number of grains of sand. Infinite number of stars in the sky.

I walk to the edge and look out, searching. Strange how I can't see something so big.

I can hear it.

As it crashes onto the shore and washes over my feet I can feel it.

But as I look out, somewhere in the far distance, the line between sky and sea blurs.

Stars melt into the salty ocean. I am lost, looking for the end of it.

I find myself wanting to think only about You.

Wanting to talk to only You.

Just in case I haven't told You in a while, just in case I forgot to say so...

I love You.

I want You to be louder than everything else.

I want You to be bigger.

Stronger.

Closer.

Than anything else.

But my words are lost. Swallowed up whole by a deep sky and a vast sea.

Moments like these I feel as though I am outside my own body.

Cityscape overwhelmed by the dark, simple depths of the ocean.

Cold sand in between my toes.

The closer I watch the stars, the more appear. Elusive, they reveal themselves only to those who seek.

Indescribable.

Just in case I had forgotten to tell You.

I love You.

I caught a glimpse of You today, sitting on the back of a boat.

Today, You were old. Sunglasses hiding your eyes as usual, You were holding a baby against Your chest. With your strong hands You were guarding the baby's face from the cold sea spray. The baby pressed his face against Your broad chest, seeking rest. Comfort. Protection.

And You were content to just sit there and hold him.

Here I am. Standing at the edge.

I can feel You breathing. Inhale as the waves are drawn away from the coast. Exhale as the tide rolls in.

I find rhythm and peace in this.

Rest. Comfort. Protection.

So we breathe together.

In this transcendental moment... there in consonance. There is vision.

So surreal. This moment just became part of my story.