Rock A Baby

I love how as life gets more difficult, God gets simpler. I'm sure there's some spiritual equation at work in there - I just don't know it...yet. I should soon. I say it often enough.

Perhaps difficult isn't the right word...no, it is. But it's not necessarily a bad kind of difficult. It's just different difficult. Like when your kid's intellect grows faster than yours. Take, for example, today. My lovely little bit of sunshine Zoe Schultz came into her room giggling and left doing those convulsive gasps you get after a good long fit. Over putting her coloring mats away. When did she master belligerence (defined as aggressive or warlike behavior), and why don't I know how to parent that? How did she learn first?

I've heard a lot lately, do everything in love. I think Jesus said that too.

Even after we had our meeting of the minds, Zoe was all too grateful to get scooped up out of her bed and snuggle up with me to "rock a baby" - my 3 favorite words. "Mommy? You want to rock a baby?" Oh you know I do!

I've been asking God to rock a baby a lot these days. His response is always the same as mine. That's astounding to me.   

It's how He responds to everything I bring Him. You want to hear how great this was, God?
Oh You know I do! 
You want to hear how scared to death I am?
Oh you know I do?
You want to help me fix this...again?
Oh you know I do!
You want to...
Oh you know I do! Seems I hear the response before I even finish the question. His lap seems always ready. His love and concern and compassion are so genuine.

And that's what makes it so simple. Love. Concern. Compassion. Pair them up with the wisdom He promises and I'm pretty sure you've got it.

I just love you...that's all

I'm sitting alone (which is a rare thing) in my room trying to soak in and commit to memory this day spent with Jesus. It's a pretty marvelous moment. So much so that I have to sort it out and put words to some of what is etching itself on my brain and my soul. I love my little blog place in the universe...

My fantastic husband watched the girls today while I continued to put all the pieces of women's retreat into cohesive messages. So I sat nested on our bed and let God pour out His astonishingly, extravagant love on the pages of my fading PC. I hear you calling, Mac!

In the background I heard the squeals and laughter of our girls as they played with Daddy. Then I heard Daddy coming up the stairs...in retreat from the squeals? No, he was looking for ways to dress the girls up like ladybugs because their wings are still packed away in a box somewhere. We dug through a box of coats and found two red and black puffy vests - don't mock, we live in Vermont! - and a pile of old, boa-like scarves. A far...far cry from a ladybug but the offspring loved them and they squealed and laughed and flapped their boa wings and danced around the living room.

Then it was quiet for awhile and I was lost again in God's brilliance and in how creatively He expresses His grace. The messages were all coming together and I was so taken by His love and how deep it runs for us.

Then I heard Jeremy ask the girls if they were ready to put on their rubber boots and go exploring. They were! They talked about the mud puddles, how cold it was, if Frosty was still melted, "Can I put my hood up?" "You hold my hand, Dad?" They went on and on as he got them both dressed and out the door - no small task.

I know these aren't the moments Hollywood is after, but for me they were the backdrop to this amazing day between me and God.

God's been keeping me still since we got here. Somewhere in that stillness I got a soul makeover. I'm looking at this reflection of me and it's not what I once saw.

Life is harder than it's ever been in some ways and much simpler in others - I think that's called living. And I think it's how we become bold and crazy and gentle and fragile and strong and a whole mixed up wonderful mess of things that each belong to us.

I spent a long time today trusting God with one of the most fragile parts of me. A part that I don't allow others to handle for fear that it might get broken again. Broken hurts. Except with God. I found that out today. He turned that one thing that I protect with silence and it caught the light just so and suddenly it wasn't so fragile any more. In fact, we tossed it around and I went out for a long pass a few times even though I'm not very good at catching. I showed it off to the women at the retreat - well, I typed it out as part of a message. That was hard. Really hard. It got fragile again real fast. But then God did that thing where He makes it look much different in His hands than it did in mine. So it's in there. To be said out loud to women I don't know so well. What will they think of me?

You want to know what it is, don't you? It doesn't matter as much as knowing that while it can linger in the background of my reflection when I see myself, it doesn't exist in God's mirror. It's not anything more than my story, my weapon to wield. He loves me that much. That's one powerful cross. One powerful love.

It's saturating me, making permanent marks on my soul, this love that makes me more than a sum of my choices. I sat nestled in it all day. I heard it in my kids and husband as they played. I felt it when I read an email from my beautiful sister who loves like no other human can. I understood it a little more as I realized all the little and big things that make me who I am are okay by God even if they don't match up with everyone in my life.

It's been a wonderful day with you, Jesus. I don't want to forget when tomorrow gets hard. Right now I'm trying to soak in as much as I can to help me remember. I'm so glad you can listen to my heart. I just love you so much...that's all.