The "other side" of scars

The other day Annelise chipped my front tooth...with her tooth (don't even ask me how that happened...). And I just had to sigh when I looked at it in the mirror. We mothers bear in our bodies the scars of motherhood right?

Later Someone (Who loves to whisper sweet somethings in my ear) said to my heart, Yes, I bear in my Body the scars of love as well. In fact, now, on the Other Side, they are My glory. My beauty. My gold medal, proudly displayed for all eternity. And your scars will be as well.

Crown Him the Lord of love, behold His hands and side,
Rich wounds, yet visible above, in beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky can fully bear that sight,
But downward bends his wondering eye at mysteries so bright.

Victory is certain...hold on for the ride!

No one will soon forget this year's manifestation of El Nino (or La Nina, or whatever Spanish weather system it is). Balmy, even hot, Spring days in January and February. And hopes of an early Spring uplifted our hearts, even as crocuses and daffodils and redbud and pear trees unfolded their blossoms.

Only to have cold winds carry away Hope as it flapped our re-donned scarves into our faces. And bury it in frozen snow. (Although our family will take snow any time of year!)

But wait, what is that poking up through the frozen snow, in a patch along the highway, beside a curb, few and far between, but definitely there for those on the lookout? Hope reborn and emerging as tiny sprigs of bright green grass poking up through the frozen snow.

Though Winter has worn out its welcome, and March is always a seasonal tug-of-war as Winter and Spring duke it out (with all creation caught in the cross hairs)...

WE KNOW who is going to win!!

We've lost all faith in predictions about the day-to-day--and are wise to make the best of whatever comes--but we have absolutely no doubt in our minds that Spring will eventually win. Or Summer at the very least! It will be warm again.

Christian, what does this remind you of?

Off with the old, on with the really old

(...and enduring and meaningful and satisfying and lick-your-chops GOOD.)


After 42 years of life on this planet...

I'm tired of being tricked by the "seen" that it's more important than the unseen.

I'm tired of working hard for something but not sure if it's going to matter in the long run, and piddling away my precious time on "wood, hay, and stubble."

I'm tired of rushing around from activity to activity with the kids, but feeling an exhaustion and emptiness that doesn't feel worth the effort for the activity alone.

I'm tired of setting my hope in my own efforts to stay in control of housework and email and the family schedule, and chasing the pipe dream that things will ever be or stay perfectly the way I prefer (or that that's even the best way anyway).

I'm tired of the deceitfulness of the same old sins and of riches and of power and of image and of "having it all together"...and how I keep going back to them even though time and time again they let me down.

I'm tired of putting my identity in things that can so easily be taken away, in people who can't bear the weight of my need, in activities that are simply drops of the ocean that I am...so confining, so flat to reduce this being God created to the sum of my calendar or to-do list (and grossly un-checked-off at that).

I'm tired of a world of elusive outer beauty and image, where I still have to do "one more thing" to attain and maintain what is quickly slipping away anyway.

I'm tired of chasing my own ideas and agenda and making needless mistakes and getting myself into pickles...when a simple angling of my eyes Upward, the slightest relaxing of my grip, the shortest pause, one word to the Source...THE. SOURCE. of the only good ideas and of order and time and coordination and purpose and destiny and The Plan of the Universe...would have saved me another trip to the woodshed.

I'm tired of refusing to grow up in certain areas, like being late all the time (ugh).

I'm tired of wondering if I'm really loved and lovable.

I'm tired of my ruts of wasted time (and the guilt that goes with it) pursuing anything less than what's going to last forever.

I've had my fill of my own ways and my own detours, and I'm ready to go back and "read the directions."

I WANT MORE.

Been there, done that. And I'm really listening now, Lord. You've patiently led me back to Your side time and time and time again. You've gently (and not so gently) broken the leg of this wandering sheep. I'm ready to sit at Your feet, as Mary did, instead of being "distracted with much serving" as Martha was. And receive that One Thing that is most important and will not be taken away.

I see now...I finally see (since You opened my eyes) that Your way is the best way and the only way. And that it's to my advantage to listen for Your voice, the heed Your words to me.

I am hungry for Your Word.

And suddenly (or gradually...how did this happen??) it is sweeter than honey and the drippings of the honeycomb.

I am seeing wondrous things in Thy law.

Wisdom does thrill and satisfy my heart better than gold and silver and jewels.

You are counseling me with Your eye upon me.

Your way does appear perfect and appealing and adventurous and restful and ahhhh, like home. Like what I've been searching for, what I was made for, Who I am longing for.

So speak, Lord, Thy servant heareth. "To whom shall we go? You alone have the words of life"!