sometimes God answers fast

i was struggling with something today, wrestling a little with God but mostly with my own mind. i reached the point of decision: tonight, after the kids are in bed, i must read my Bible and pray. i just need to be with my Father. i just need him. it gave me some peace to simply hope for that time.

immediately after o. was tucked in, i closed myself in another room, took out my journal and got out some thoughts. then i read and started to pray about one chapter in particular. while i conversed with Jesus about leaning on him like a brother (consider hebrews 2), i got a new picture of faith.

that wasn't the only new picture. i had answers to the very thing i'd been struggling over earlier in the day. i had barely broached the subject with God, and CLICK! on went a switch, and he answered my confusion. i found him and i found what i needed.

praise the Lord of life! he hears us when we call and is found when we search for him unreservedly. and even reservedly.

try him.

paul and us, for you

"now i rejoice in what was suffered for you, and i fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ's afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church. i have become its servant by the commission God gave me to present to you the word of God in its fullness -- the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the saints. to them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. we proclaim him, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone perfect in Christ. to this end i labor, struggling with all his energy, which so powerfully works in me."

everything under the sun

took a lovely walk around the neighborhood with the littles today. R and i chatted. A relaxed in her stroller. we stopped at a park for a while.

taking in all the sights, you can't help but notice the spring paradox. fresh greenery and budding trees with newness in the air, all mingled with burned out, boarded up homes strewn with rubbish and left to decay. what was once pristine and grand lies in wait for exploitation. R and i talked about one house with its gorgeous brick porch. he suggested buying it. i said i wish someone would . . . make it all new.

though the mess is commonplace here, it doesn't feel natural. only disheartening to a heart where eternity has been placed, as Ecclesiates says. the building up and tearing down, the keeping and throwing away, it's a mystery to me. a mystery to be embraced as i look toward the One whose works will endure, like a tapestry not worn.

among other things new, i do get to take part in a little home rebuilding. recently, a contractor began the city's rehab project on the exterior of our house. and i have many hopes for the inside that are bit by bit being fulfilled. the house has surely had its own seasons. i am thrilled to be part of this mending, laughing, planting, healing and gathering time!

design in me

the little ones fed and occupied, two loads of laundry down, dishes cleaned, dinner planned. i was mopping floors while pondering this recent fixation on remaking the rooms in my house. we've lived here nearly two years but the renovations and decorating and other processes have been, well, a process. most of my walls are still bare, poor walls. however, i've been given new license to jump in. i've gotten in over my head and i'm LOVING it! even though it's still ninety-nine percent in my head...

i am a "closet" designer. there's vivid recollection of dreaming up outfits for myself - in my head - as a preteen. and i can spend hours and days exploring color or texture with absolutely no goal in mind. did anyone else have one of those groovy drafting kits for home interiors as a kid? i pulled mine out many years later, wishing i had an adult version. in fact, my favorite part of playing in the woods as a child was designing imaginary houses from the tree limbs and roots, shrubs and fallen sticks. as deeply satisfying as creating lovely spaces for my family with a near-imaginary pocketbook!

these kinds of pleasures energize me. ask kenn. i am a different person after looking through photos of beautiful things. and that's what i asked God about while cleaning the floors - vibrantly fueled by the images of what my living room could look like one day. the question pains the artist and it hardly matters that countless have asked and answered it before. we all dance around the subject in our own way. isn't this just frivolous?

so while mopping, God reminded me. he's [a] Designer. i hadn't really forgotten, i just hadn't heard it from him lately. he said something like, "you know that word about the lilies, right? i clothe them on purpose. and what about every other masterpiece of mine? i know you don't think all that beauty is a waste. night and day you find me there, in created things. what would this planet, this life be without the splendor i've shown? or even without the treasures man has fashioned?"

when will my little heart learn? God has made me like himself. and creating is somehow my way of sharing my Beautiful with others. that is never a trivial, frivolous thing.

like snow in summer...

"like snow in summer 
or rain in harvest, 
honor is not fitting for a fool."

snowing yet again! you won't hear a complaint from me. i asked for it. i even thought it was funny today when i read that first verse from proverbs 26. it wasn't so amusing to realize shortly after: i'd been a fool. a fool a bit like haman, that is. he's the man from the biblical story of esther who enjoyed vast wealth and high position and grand favor but had one complaint: all this gives me no satisfaction as long as i see that jew mordecai sitting at the king's gate.

no, i don't know anyone named mordecai and i enjoy very little money and power. but a bit like haman's, my own dreams have come true. the picture of life that i'd hoped for just a few years back is now a reality. how many people can say that? still, i had chosen haman's response when not long ago i'd said, God, i am just not satisfied with that!

you see, there was a situation i found myself in (to no blame of my own) from which God had released me. instead of accepting freedom, i chose to hold onto it like the stubborn child i am learning i am. there was just one outcome of which i wanted more control. i built my own gallows.

at the end of chapter five in esther, haman shares this one gripe with his wife and friends. i wonder if  they weren't drunk or at least half-joking, but they tell him to have a gallows built and get the king to hang mordecai. then it'll all be great, they imply. it actually sounds like a plan to haman.

do you know what happens the next day?! it's what alarmed me when i realized how i'd been clutching just one thing, one grievance, dissastisfied. that one complaint could have been my own death! and my dreams would have died with me. like haman.

thank my Redeemer, he rescued me. as he always does and promises he will, he saved me by showing me how i'd been the fool. yes, just like that fool i only read about in proverbs. he said it was not fitting for me, his redeemed.

and that's where i'm not like haman.

it's okay: a work in progress

i think i'm learning a little bit more about ambiguity and unanswered questions, about striving and settling.

like this weekend. i was six hours away from home and my babies, and my sweet 3-year-old ended up in the hospital. it was likely he'd be just fine, but i really did fear i might lose him. now i look back on it and think, was there more to take away from that experience? should my reaction to his healing have been as intense as my fear of his failing? did i miss something?

yes, i'm learning.
it's okay to not know how to respond.
it's okay to wonder what's going on and not come up with an answer.
it's okay to revel in the glimpse of something without jumping to seize the whole picture.
it's okay to speak what i sense is utterly true, even when it's depths i cannot grasp nor wholly express.
it's okay to stay put when divergence enters the room.
it's okay to feel less than inspired after a conversation.
it's okay to start something i may not finish today.
it's okay to try something, not knowing where it'll take me.

it's more than okay.

i am learning a little bit more about my compulsion to get everything just right. mind, matter, me, you.

i'll probably pursue more insight into the crazy weekend, but i think i'll be okay if i don't.

worth the wait

i had the feeling (read hope) that we would get a "real" winter this year.
and more is yet to come! yahoo!

a story about hospitality

it was dark, it must have been late, dinner had not yet been served. in fact, i was busy trying to prepare it when i heard a quiet tapping on the back door. our backyard is enclosed with a fence which  the neighborhood kids know to enter only after they've asked permission. it's a general rule when we aren't in the yard.

earlier, the knocking at the front door had begun to get out of hand - kids being kids and being silly but wearing on us hungry and tired adults. so when the knock at the back door was heard, i was irked. i left my cooking to peer out a window, to catch a little pest in action. sure enough, someone was standing on my fence. the darkness hid who it was, so i just banged on the window and motioned a command to get down. whoever it was tried to gesture their explanation to me, which i assumed was unwarranted. i turned to the back door to get down to the bottom of this interruption.

let me not forget, the tap i'd heard had turned to two or three knocks and then a call of my name - Miss Cheri?! - but i still refused to answer. my task of making dinner i had determined to complete.

to my surprise and near horror when i opened the door, sweet d. was standing there cowering with tears in his eyes, explaining how some kids were threatening him.

oh my God, what have i done? i love this dear boy, small of stature yet so tall of heart. he has come to my door to find refuge. literally. and i've refused him. to offer a place for any one to be at home and find what they need for the journey was the hope-filled intention of my heart, and it had been realized. in an instant, i locked that door.

thank God for his mercy and justice. over us all. d.'s tears broke me and i offered my deep regret in apology. he came inside and wiped away his tears with a bit of shame. not long after, his cousins and siblings came to walk him home and a piece of myself walked away with him. i think it won't return.

i am so broken. jesus still comes to my house. let me not miss him again.

gifts (these and those)

i am trying to wrap my heart round a certain concept. if God is my God, what room is there for concern for things, namely the stuff we buy and give and collect and design and hope to add to our other things?

i am struggling again with the christmastime rule: you give nice things to the ones you love. give me permission to break it! please! such demands make me tense. yet i wrestle just the same and more often with the gifts inside me - they dream of color and shape and design, to furbish, enhance and arrange, using hands and mind to create pleasing spaces and nonessentials. be sure, i've understood the good advice and firm arguments for each conflict. i still find myself here, conflicted.

it is tonight i think i've reached the end of this maze, realizing the end should have been my start. i shall begin with the knowledge - i mean a full grasp - that what lies within me is by God's design of grace. it will be freedom to abide by his rules and pursue the privilege of sharing my gifts. if he chooses to grace me with such opportunity, i pray i will joyously bestow them. whether family, friend, neighbor or stranger, those i love will then possess something of another Rule.

this start is not the desire to gain, achieve, impress, appease. start is in profound thankfulness, revelling in the undeserved and mysterious favor received. this is logic leaving no room for anxiety.

now to wrap up my heart with it. . .
what are you wrapped up in?

first

God is good all the time