Unburden Me

What can I pray to bring you near? I have but a small moment to solely seek you so I desire efficiency. “Mother” some days the word is the antithesis of efficiency. Though it could be used as a supporting adjective to describe you, you are not the God of efficiency. You are love and sometimes that is being the opposite of efficient. Clothes in the washer, dryer and on the floor while little boy is rocked and sang to an extra ten minutes before nap. Dirty windows still let in light while I lay and tumble with cooing babies. Efficient, maybe this is the last thing a mother should want to be, but I am also a daughter and I desire to feel your presence. You woo me with two squares of chocolate and a cup of steaming green tea under a down blanket. This is my daily temple, the chocolate and tea, my bread and wine. I use them to remember you, dwell on your word and your promises. Then efficiency taps me on the shoulder again in this moment of relationship. There is no time. I write through small fingerprints on my eyeglasses because the moment taken to clean them is too precious to waste. Many duties get ignored in order to gather up spare moments to be spent with you. A baby went down for nap with spit on her shirt, a boy was not made to pick up his toys, the dishes from breakfast are still on the table and I am in my pajamas. But I love you and long to love you more. You are my sweet solace, my only source of hope from my sin. My sins pile mountains high, especially when I make laws up that aren’t even yours, laws of efficiency and chores and a clean house and a smiling face. Your law has not made it a sin to mourn, or to have crumbs on your floor but I still tally them up and lay the guilt squarely on my shoulders. The weight is so heavy I can’t afford to miss this time with you.  Any sacrifice is worth making in order to have a moment to kneel in your throne room that you made available through blood and death. And I cannot be efficient here. I must be anything but. I must close my eyes and listen and wait for your presence to wash over. How impatient I am. Twenty minutes seems never enough. It seems so insignificant, some days I don’t believe it will be enough to unburden me so I carry my curse all day long saying I will have time tomorrow, maybe thirty or forty, surely that will make my time with you more efficient.   My phrasing is ill put when I say that I desire to bring you near for it is my own heart that has gone wandering.  It is me who has created a distance, not you from me. And yet again you are my only hope. Jesus draw me near to you for I have no ability to conjure affection and obedience. I rely on you for even the will to kneel. So make me kneel Lord. Unbind me from these laws I have made for myself about ritual and consistency. Set me free with love. You are LOVE, Holy maker of all things, Healer of my heart. Unburden me and bind my wandering heart to thee.

Two Truths and a Lie

Two truths and a lie. I remember playing this game. I’ve been playing it this week with my own mind. Ever since we almost doubled the size of our family by welcoming our twins, the reality that I now have more children than hands to hold them has been calling me into fear. I am struggling with two truths and a lie. As we drive through town I think “what if we got pushed off a bridge into water. How would I save all my kids from drowning?” or, “ what if there was a fire? Could I really get all of them out safely?”  I’m sure these are thoughts that cross every parents mind at some moment or another but when you have three under thirteen months the responsibility for their safety combined with the reality of their helplessness is a  sum that can sometimes leave one breathless. I’m sure I’m not alone. Another “every parent “moment was had the other night. It was late and one of the twins chose to reject all attempts of us getting her to sleep in her crib next to her sister who was snoring. How can you argue with a cute little double chin that just grins with sparkling eyes when she says, “I just want to be with you!”. So we brought her to bed and she immediately fell asleep; arms flat up over her head that was turned to one side with the most delicate little eyelashes resting on full cheeks, so still until they momentarily raised into a smile. That smile punched me in the stomach with pure undiluted love. It pressed up through my chest as I said through sobs to my husband, “I love her so much!”. This is when you become a parent. There are many people who “have kids” but you become a parent when the love you have for your child wrestles your desire for self gain and self comfort to the ground and smothers it dead. Your brain is changed from that moment forward. But you can dwell in that moment a little too long. If you dwell in that moment long enough and you allow yourself to fully comprehend the frailty of that child and your lack of ability to control this chaotic world combined with that desperate love you  have for them, your heart will be filled with  fear, terror, at break neck speed, because babies are made of so easily destructible flesh and bone but we feel they are more valuable than our own lives and the lives of many others.  It’s terrifying to love so deeply. And you know where I am going with this… That’s how the Father loves us. He so violently loves us that he threw himself onto a torturing cross to pay for our wrongs. But back to my point, there are two truths and a lie here. It is true and right for me to love my child, it is true that this world is full of sin and pain, and death really is coming for my child at every turn but it is wrong and it is a lie that I should have fear, that I should feel helpless in light of those truths. The answer is “no”, I may not be able to save my babies in an unforeseeable accident. I may not be able to keep them safe all the days of their lives and even if I do save them death WILL come for them unless it pleases the Lord that they are of the single generation who will never see death.

Romans 8:15 For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, ""Abba," Father."

So I have been crying “Abba, Father.” More lately… actually three times more than usual. I say “Abba Father, align my will with yours. Your ways are so much better than mine, even when they include my suffering or the suffering of one who I love.”

It has been one year since God broke my chest open through my fathers and made my heart more His own. He died after a heart surgery in which there was only a one percent chance at loss of life. The doctors sawed my dads chest open and God gently opened mine making a wound that will not heal in this lifetime. I feel selfish talking about my wound of a dead father when so many walk around this earth never even having known their father or worse never being loved by their father, when my father was one of the best who loved his bride and his children with a passion that mimicked the Lords. How can I even call what happened a tragedy when the fifty three years we had , including his death was nothing but blessing. I have a wound now but it was put their by a surgeon. It was put there so that God, the Great Physician can mercifully grab hold of my heart whenever He needs and say directly to my heart with nothing hindering “Hey my love, are you desiring me?!  Hey do you remember how you loved me that night I took your father home? Do you remember how you told me to have my way and not yours even if it meant his death? Please love me like that every second of every day my daughter! It’s for your good, it’s for my glory! Remember, don’t forget while you’re sweeping up snack time and Satan says your work is meaningless. Don’t listen when he tells you your actions are dramatic and uncalled for when you kneel on your children’s bedroom floor and pray for their souls and ask that I would protect them but that I would ultimately have my way, that you love me more than them. Remember how I cared so much for you that I wounded you. I cut you to heal you.”

Do you ever forget about things? You tie one of those red strings around your finger and write seven sticky note reminders and still forget about that dentist appointment or that thing you had to do? Do you ever forget about the cross? Do you ever just go about your day and then your week passes and you haven’t dwelt in the presence of the Lord, haven’t meditated on His glory and His word? Grief is that red string around your finger for the Lord except it works every time. I start thinking about my dad and drift into thoughts surrounding his death, like how his blood had to be passed through a machine that looked like a slurpee maker at seven eleven and I’m undone, I have to seek the Lord, and when I don’t, I spiral out, until I find myself on the floor asking “why am I so bitter? Why am I being so mean to my husband!?” and then I remember that I have a wound …….and I weep and worship”

So we can’t fear these hardships that life will bring. We can’t walk in fear of what is coming for our kids and those we love because God is in control. God is the ultimate deciding factor in what happens to your kids and if tomorrow I go in to wake up little Mara and Phina and find they have gone home to Jesus it will be for my good and for the glory of God. He is making me new….. and it’s messy. And sometimes the level of wickedness in my heart has to be matched with an event that cuts me so deep I have nowhere to go but to the Lord for help and for healing.

Oh the unwavering holiness of God. If I could see it in an image it would be a tsunami wave with a great metal blade spanning the crest, buildings high.  It comes for those that run from it and those who stand on the shore with arms wide. It crashes and crushes and once you drown in it your free.  I’m still swimming, breathlessly treading water, bobbing and fighting  to keep from that one last moment before I inhale the wave. I’m fighting against freedom.

I imagine myself as the one on the shore with arms wide but now that I am awash in God’s ocean of teaching I flounder, I fight for one last breath of air, of control, my will, my way.  That must be what drowning is like; you fight and fight until you come to a point where you must choose to take a breath and fill your lungs with water. I’ve read from those who have experienced it that at that point you are set free, euphoria sets in and calm.

It’s been one year and I am treading water. But one year ago I did drown. I stood on the shore with arms wide and let the blade wave run me through. I did let my will and my way die for one night. I said, “have your way King Jesus.” when it actually did cost something dear. And now I’m challenged by that woman I was every day to say it again and again and again. “Have your way King Jesus, I love you more than my money.” As I give it away. “Have your way King Jesus, I love you more than my body.” As I spend it on people. “Have your way King Jesus, I love you more than my husband.” As I kiss him goodnight. And over them in their cribs with my hands stretched out to one on each side I reach and I bow so that my hands can touch both their hearts, I cast off these sweet little cherubs that at times become my false God, my own children my idol “Have your way King Jesus, I love you more than my babies”

Oh Lord give me strength to continue to say in every moment, in every circumstance , “I love you more, I love you more, I love you more.”  Two truths: God is good and God is in control, no lie.

Expect Suffering

 I fear that I am beginning to be a one note song in my head and my heart. Maybe it’s just the season of life that I am in but as I dwell on my thoughts and how they reflect scripture I am drawn to think it’s something more. I think that suffering is more than just a season. “This too shall pass” everyone's grandma once said to them. But what did she really mean, or did she even know the gravity of that sentiment and it’s deep ancient truth that “Heaven and earth shall pass away”(Matt 24:35) and all things will be made new (Rev 21:5) . We were created, we fell, redemption came and covered retroactively and proactively, we are being sanctified and one day it will all be finished and eternity can begin. Right now we are being sanctified. What else could that mean except suffering? Now this may sound funny but I think that suffering has gotten a bad reputation. We shouldn’t fear suffering, we should expect it and maybe even something more than just expect. “In this world you will have trouble but don’t be afraid for I have overcome the world!” ( John 16:33) I’m not a runner but there was a time in my life where I did enjoyed running and at the beginning of a day with perfect weather I would get excited about running. I knew I was going to sweat and breath hard and at times my ankle that I sprained really well a few years ago was going to hurt but I also knew that at the end of the run my body was going to be harder, more lean, better than it was before. I was excited for that feeling. I have also had times in my schooling where I was just so excited to learn; I looked forward to class. I felt this way about my world religions course with Dr. Domani  Pothen at Multnomah Bible College. I knew that her brain was going to ring me out in that hundred and twenty minutes. She was going to tell me I was wrong and challenge me to grow and study but I also knew that at the end of that course I was going to be more knowledgeable about God than I was before. I was excited to have these trials that would better me.  Can I say it? Can we as Christians be excited about suffering? I know this is probably not a popular idea that is going to catch on anytime soon but I think it’s catching on in me. I think this truth has been about twenty years in the making in my life. I have always anticipated suffering. I have waited for it, always asking God, “ok is this where I get to suffer?” When I was a teenager, “ok Lord, am I supposed to be alone my whole life and never find a husband? Is this where I am supposed to suffer?”, when I was a wife, “Ok Lord, he is deployed to a war zone. Is he going to die and me become a widow? Is this where I’m supposed to suffer?” when we wanted to have a baby, “Okay Lord will I always long for a child? Is this where I am supposed to suffer?”  I prayed that God would change my heart. I asked him to make me like that old woman who knows and loves and just rejoices in Jesus at every moment and then one day driving home from the hospital where my dads chest was sawn open in hopes of saving his life I asked again, “Lord when are you going to start hurting me to heal me? Is this where I get to suffer?” and he said yes. And the suffering that came from that day and the months to follow has been the greatest blessing of my life so far. No, you didn’t hear me wrong… BLESSING. My dads death, it took him three days to die, we were jerked back and fourth about whether he would live or not and when he did die his body was swollen and chopped up, his chest left open,  he left my mom with a pile of bills and properties that were under water and a physical mess, totally disorganized and no will, he left my son to never know him, my sisters to have no one to walk them down the isle at their weddings, my niece and nephew asking, “where did papa go?” and me pregnant with twin girls that were conceived the week before he died, never to see their papas face or to be held by his strong, rough hands and still ……it was a blessing.  There was no other way to bring about the kind of change in my heart that occurred this past year and I am beginning to believe that there is no other way to truly know Jesus except by way of suffering, trial, pain and loss. This has been the hardest year of my life AND the most blessed year and I hope only that Gods plan has more years like it to come because I’m being made new. 

What I didn’t think about or realize in my prayer to change my heart is that the only difference between me and that little old lady who has such great faith is years and years just like the one I had. Suffering does that when you know Jesus, it crushes you into a position of constant kneeling and praise. I know that this notion of getting excited about suffering may seem almost rude to some who have suffered much more than me and maybe much more than I ever will but I still think I should be bold in laying it before us and say that we can look forward to the rest of our lives. We can be excited about the suffering it will bring and look back with joy on what it has brought because it will draw us ever closer to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. It has drawn us closer to the heart of Jesus who suffered far beyond any other individual. “He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.”(Isaiah 53:5)  “Behold I am making all things new” (Rev 21:5) Expect suffering and not just, but anticipate and rejoice in it for the sanctification of God himself is in it and he is making us new.

Sing All Ye Citizens of Heaven Above!

I’m no longer falling as frequently on this road towards peace, this road out of grief that ultimately  ends in paradise. For a season it seemed that the ache in my heart was so consuming, so overwhelming that it was part of my self, had become my new identity. Kelsey, daughter of early fallen Dan. But identity is a choice, and I choose that that is not who I am at all. His death is only a part of the story that God is writing with my lifeblood. Letters in red, just like the red letter bibles. Words spoken by God Himself. He has sanctioned these events and that truth brings me peace. But now Christmas is upon us. A time for family, for being close, and the one who held my family together, the glue, is gone. It was dad who organized all of the family meals, who smoothed over conflict amongst siblings, who encouraged into the small hours of the morning when one of us was questioning  our value or our place in the world. We have all been left broken by his passing but when two truly become one and one leaves, the other is left half whole. If only God had given my mother the ability of the star fish, to grow back appendages when we have been ripped to shreds. And maybe He has, maybe God will re-grow her half heart and half mind and make her whole again in time. Even a small star fish takes years sometimes to re-grow a leg.  I ponder these things over in my mind just like Mary did over the events in her family. How? Why? What is Gods plan in this? How will he work out His glory? I can’t imagine the turmoil of Mary. Why would God become a man and such a lowly man, born in a stable, to a humble carpenter,  as a bastard, an illegitimate child. The facts would seem foreboding, grim. At the very least she could see that he would have a hard life and what she met in the end for her son was an early death around thirty years old and in the most dishonorable and painful way, execution as a criminal, on a torturing cross. And God sanctioned these things, for his glory. I ponder, what else will He sanction for the glory of His name? It terrifies me, the raging holiness of God. Even the flesh of babes are not too precious to be used for His limitless glory.  But I can count on one great and awesome truth that brings peace and joy into the very moments of pain, sorrow and suffering, one holy truth….. He is good……… He is Love…….. and He never ever fails at keeping His promises. So as Christmas comes with it’s expectations, it’s ideals of joy, gifts and happiness, and as it fails in every way possible, we can rejoice in it’s one truth….. “God with us”.  In hearing these words at Christmas church service my heart was encouraged by the tears that flowed upon just hearing those words, “God with us”. They told me that my heart was beginning to understand those words, I’m starting to get it, I’m beginning to comprehend. Then we sang. “Sing choirs of Angels, sing in exaltation!” And then these other words brought many tears and a great heaving in my chest as we sang them. , “Sing all ye citizens of heaven above!!!”  Sing dad, sing grandma and grandpa, sing babies that were never born, sing little girl that died too young, sing woman who died hairless and breastless, sing soldier who died for others, sing martyr sing ALL ye citizens of heaven above, for Christ is born and He will bring reunion to us, He will put death to death. Let us rejoice while we wait! “Glory to God, glory in the highest! Oh come let us adore Him, oh come let us adore Him, oh come let us adore Him Christ the LORD!”