i have a friend who is writing a book. she is amazing, and when it is ready i will happily share it with you and shout her praises and unashamedly push her book. but today i’m feeling a little less. i have a friend who is writing a book; i have a friend who is adopting a baby; i have a friend who is traveling to uganda; i have a friend who’s training for a triathlon. meanwhile i’ve got laundry piled up to my ears (have you noticed laundry is an ongoing problem for me- i hate it) i made some really gross pumpkin muffins this morning for my children for breakfast. i could surely use some makeup and a hairbrush about now; and honestly i just had to run outside because i could hear my kids screaming at each other while i was in the bathroom. (ok so that’s a lie; i didn’t run. i waited and listened to see if anyone was hurt. upon deciphering that the voices were merely angry fighting boys and not injured children, i walked slowly outside to face the reality. the reality which was, my older boys on the roof of the house chucking snowballs at my littles who were on the roof of the shed…. seriously.)
some days i feel less; less of a disciple, less of a wife, less of a mom. maybe i’ve been struggling with this a lot lately; because i seem to be working it out in one form or another is several places. we all feel less sometimes. we can all look at others and wish we were more.
yesterday during women’s bible study, i was reminded of how God views me; of what God calls me. a saint, anointed, His child, beloved, worthy, heir, sister, daughter… so today as i’m feeling less; i’m trying to remember that He is more. that His words, His view, His plan is more; and He has given more to me. in grasping more; i strive to be more. not in a competitive, jealous, keeping-up kind of way. i strive to live up to the words He has spoken over me. to face my rowdy, snowball throwing boys with grace and peace. i strive to entrench myself in His word so that His words will flow from my mouth. i tackle the task He has given me with joy.
i will not be writing books anytime soon; but i will sit down and read to my children. i will tell them stories of my youth, stories of their lives, and stories from my heart. i will not be adopting a newborn, but i will love on my friend and encourage and pray for her as she mothers her baby. i will hug my children- biological and adopted -and remember the days when their hands were so little and their cheeks so sweet. there are no trips to africa planned for our family; but we have friends across the world whom i will pray for as they reach out to the lost and the hopeless. i will show the love of Christ to my neighbors and my friends down the street and be His hands and feet right where i live. i will most surely not be training for a triathlon or a marathon or even a 5k (i do not like participating in races), but i will choose health. i will do T25 with my son who loves to “workout” and i will talk a walk outside today and enjoy the sunshine.
i am feeling less today, but i am consciously choosing to be more.
yesterday the hubs and i broke up the ice in the driveway and shoveled out our little honda civic that has been snowed in since december. (strike that we shoveled it out once before just to see if it would start- it did- trusty little honda) the driveway was a mess of slushy icy sludge. we threw chunks of gray ice onto white snow hills.
later we drove to the store and passed banks of piled high snow; black snow. these past few days we’re seeing black and white. the sky has been gray the ground white lined in black sludge. i don’t like this kind of snow. when it’s old, dirty and slushy. it bears down on me; it makes me sad; all dreary and painful and heavy. it mirrors the soul.
but last night it snowed. big light flakes blew in and covered the murky sludge. this morning i woke to blue skies and white sheets blanketing the ground. and my mind wondered to a sweet woman who reminded me just a few weeks ago “that’s why i love the snow.”
i’ve been bombarded with thoughts on compassion this last week. reading about the impoverished; listening to stories of the downtrodden; contemplating the compassion of Christ. and when i am inundated with messages and stories and thoughts all on the same topic; i’ve got to stop and do a little thinking on the subject.
this past spring the hubs and i heard an excellent explanation of poverty given by Brian Fikkert. i have thought of it this week often as i process how i view others. how i view those that live down the street from me, the people i see at wal-mart, the pictures i see of ugandan children, the reels of images that role through my mind of haitian friends. i view people (images bearers of the most high God) according to my own judgements and preconceived notions of who they are and who i am. and i am wrong probably 80% of the time. because i don’t love people the way Christ loved people. i don’t view them they way He does; but i want to.
i want to be a friend to the sinner; i want to help the needy; i want to look past the end of my stuck up nose to see the hurting all around me.
i don’t know how i’m gonna do it. but i’ll start with reading about Jesus’ compassion for people in the Gospels, and listening to those that are making an effort already like: shannan, and her guest blogger debbie, and katie, and julianne , and lots of others.
and i’ll be praying…
i’ve done a little bit of wallowing in self-pity this weekend. a little bit of homesick, a little bit of doubt, a little bit of anxiety, and a lot of selfishness. i gave myself a good kick in the pants and got out of my slump yesterday. hmmm probably not. God challenged my selfishness, and opened my eyes to the hurting people around me, and i begrudgingly climbed up out of the mud hole i’d been wallowing in.
and then He gave me a few special gifts! last night the hubs (who has been terribly sick since we arrived in CO finally feeling better) and two of my little men pulled out their guitars and we had some family praise and worship time. it was, of course, initiated by my littlest guy who loves to sing and play and put on quite a little show rounded out with his time of “teaching and prayer”. yep he does it all folks: worship leader, pastor, and the guy who prays at the end of church (does that guy have a title?) we all gathered in our new living room with our old instruments and our old songs and we did what we do. and it felt like home.
today we took a walk to the park- we were the only ones there except for a few teenagers; so no opportunities for working on my friend making skills. we headed down to the creek. we knew there was a creek at the park but hadn’t been all that interested in exploring it before today. we wound our way through tall grasses and tight paths until we found it.
and then the fun began! “it was awesome!” and I sat on the edge of the creek and watched my boys do what they do. they waded and threw rocks and “worked on a dam” and jumped and splashed and played. and they said “it’s like home” and i didn’t cry on the outside.
i’ve never thought how much home is about -doing. home can be anywhere for us; it’s about the people we love and the things we do. so here in colorado we can sing, and play in the creek, and make new friends, and be who we are, and do what we do; and it will be home.