Saturday, May 24, 2014
Friday, May 23, 2014
Finding the Light
I peek into the fresh mulch, remove a small piece, and see the tiniest formation of a green bud. A yellow Gerbera daisy is daring to make its appearance. I look at the piece of mulch that seems to smother the bud with its weight and oppression. I wonder if the fragile bud can ever push its way to the surface with something so heavy on it. At first, I think of removing the wood. But, then I decide to leave it put. The young flower knows where the light is.
It will rise to the surface.
It has been a heavy month. I sat behind my cousin as he quietly dabbed his eyes to try to stop the constant leak. We were saying goodbye to his father. My uncle. My Dad's brother. A good man who had so many titles. Horse lover. Jokester. RV-er. A man who could sell you anything. A man with a smile and a heart that will be missed. Hope seems so far away when you are in the deep valley of ache and loss. Sometimes, we want others to lift the weight of the oppressive wood so we can flee the darkness.
But children of God know where to find the light.
The call came on a Thursday. Looks like cancer. All breath stripped away. Not me or Eric or the boys but family. Family. What do you do while waiting in the dark with the heavy oppression of something that you can't even wrap your simple brain cells around? You blubber out medical words that really don't make sense to your finite mind and you wonder what will carry you through this. Not this. Please, God, just lift the oppressive wood so we can flee the darkness.
But children of God know where to find the light.
In our ache we pray. And try to surrender. And beat on His chest and tell Him we don't have it in us to surrender. And beg for grace to surrender because there is nothing in us that wants to surrender. His plan. It starts as a mumble: Not my will but Yours. And then a half broken sob: Not my will but Yours. Then it becomes a primal scream that shoves all self aside: Not my will but Yours.
We surrender to the plan when we are hidden under the dark and oppressive mulch because we know it will push us towards the light.
We choose to surrender because God has promised us one thing: in the end, it will be beautiful.
All this pain
I wonder if I’ll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
{lyrics by Gungor}
It will rise to the surface.
It has been a heavy month. I sat behind my cousin as he quietly dabbed his eyes to try to stop the constant leak. We were saying goodbye to his father. My uncle. My Dad's brother. A good man who had so many titles. Horse lover. Jokester. RV-er. A man who could sell you anything. A man with a smile and a heart that will be missed. Hope seems so far away when you are in the deep valley of ache and loss. Sometimes, we want others to lift the weight of the oppressive wood so we can flee the darkness.
But children of God know where to find the light.
The call came on a Thursday. Looks like cancer. All breath stripped away. Not me or Eric or the boys but family. Family. What do you do while waiting in the dark with the heavy oppression of something that you can't even wrap your simple brain cells around? You blubber out medical words that really don't make sense to your finite mind and you wonder what will carry you through this. Not this. Please, God, just lift the oppressive wood so we can flee the darkness.
But children of God know where to find the light.
In our ache we pray. And try to surrender. And beat on His chest and tell Him we don't have it in us to surrender. And beg for grace to surrender because there is nothing in us that wants to surrender. His plan. It starts as a mumble: Not my will but Yours. And then a half broken sob: Not my will but Yours. Then it becomes a primal scream that shoves all self aside: Not my will but Yours.
We surrender to the plan when we are hidden under the dark and oppressive mulch because we know it will push us towards the light.
We choose to surrender because God has promised us one thing: in the end, it will be beautiful.
All this pain
I wonder if I’ll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
{lyrics by Gungor}
The School Year
Wow. It has been a school year! After much prayer, we moved all the kids into public education at the start of the year. After even more prayer, we moved one of those back into Christian education at semester. We used to say we decide things (where they go to school) year by year but now we are semester by semester! HA!
We're trying to be sensitive to the Spirit and see where each child will blossom and grow the most. Not just their little minds, but their souls as well. Eric and I see the benefits of home school, Christian private education, and public education. Each one has beautiful things to offer. We don't necessarily think any one of the options is better than the rest. We are trying to simply let the Spirit lead year by year. (Or semester by semester!)
That said, we have had a great year and I couldn't be more proud of how each child has excelled. Now, bring on some summer.
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