Isaiak!

I pull her out of her seat at the table and set her on the ground as the next song begins to play off my phone. 

My Little Love runs into the next room as the words begin, “Isaiah 6:1-3.” 

“Isaiak!” she squeals, running back towards me. 

(She may or may not have Isaiah the prophet crossed with baby Isaac who we read about last night.  Or perhaps, it is Isaiah 6 she is trying to say.  I am not totally sure.  I smile at her.) 

“Yes.  Isaiah 6,” I affirm. 

I run downstairs to move some laundry over while she runs around on the wood floors—exploring, dancing, repeating the location of the verses in the song over and over.  “Isaiak.  Isaiak.  Isaiak.”   

The song plays on. 

“In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, sitting upon a throne high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple.  Above him stood the seraphim, each had six wings: With two he covered his face, with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew.  And one called to another and said:

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts;
    the whole earth is full of his glory.”

-Isaiah6:1-3 (ESV) 

When she hears the word “Holy” she stops. 
  

It has been a word that she has been using for weeks or maybe even months now.  Holy and beloved.  Silent night, holy night.  She hears it and usually enters into her own moment of calling out, “Holy.  Holy.  Holy.” 

She sings “holy" at the table.

She sings “holy” while she plays.

She sings “holy” in her car seat.

She sings “holy” in the middle of the grocery store.  (This one surprised me.  But sure enough, the words to the music, as we rolled through the baking aisle in Meijer searching for food coloring, were saying just that.)

She sings “holy” as she lies in my arms before bed. 

I am amazed by this Little Love.  The way she is so observant and attentive causes me to pause.  As she begins to sing “Holy,” once again, with such earnestness and joy, I stop.  I don’t want to miss it! 

The God she sings about is holy.   

This moment we are living right now, holy.  It is a chance to live worship. 

And this holy God?  He calls me his chosen one, holy and beloved. 

Something in my heart changes in these moments.  I can’t help but think of Moses standing before the burning bush as God says, “Take off your sandals, for where you are standing is holy ground”(Exodus 3:5).

I can’t help but smile.  I can’t help but join her in this chorus:   

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts;
    the whole earth is full of his glory.” 

Because He is holy.  This is a moment to worship.  This moment is one in which I am invited to put on love. 

And so I do. 

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we stop to embrace each moment as one to be lived worshipping the Holy One,  humbled to be called God’s holy and beloved children, and standing on holy ground. 

Jessica :)  

P.S.  Family Seeds Worship is wonderful.  It is Scripture set to music.  We usually listen at breakfast to begin the day off with God's Word.  We do more if my Little Love asks throughout the day, which she often does.  By listening she is memorizing Scripture and she doesn't even realize she is doing it.  I love that she is hiding God's word in her heart with such joy.

For the Tired and Weary

After I lay my Little Love down, I find my way to the love seat where my Bible and journal sit tucked in a bin nearby.  I pull them out and set them beside me while I pile on the blankets.  I grab my Bible and pause, holding it in my left hand.  I could open to my bookmark in John and read, my heart, my body weary.  Instead, I pause to breathe deeply and to talk to God: 

God, I have come.  I have come after a challenging day yesterday.   I had hoped for a fresh start in the morning.  I had hoped to leave the tantrums of yesterday behind with sleep, but that didn’t happen.  I realize that my girl is tired.  I noticed that she has a gum bulging with a new tooth waiting to come through.  It must hurt.  I know there is an explanation for much of her behavior, though I don’t understand it all.  I am having a really hard time being all here and all in control.  I don’t want to be the problem in my day.  That was me yesterday.  I don’t want that to be me today.  I don’t want to raise my voice.  I don’t want to speak in clipped, sharp tones.  I want to see her cues and respond like You would, Jesus. 

As I talk of this, I think to myself how much I am like my child before God.  I hurt, I grow cranky and tired.  I am uncooperative and I lash out, most often with my tongue.  I am disobedient.  Since I am tired and weary when my Little Love behaves this way, I imagine that when I am like my girl God must feel like me—tired and weary. 

At this thought, your answer comes swiftly. 

No! No! No!  

You speak ever so gently. 

You may be like her.  But I do not feel like you.  Don’t you remember?   I do not grow tired or weary.

The words of a song I learned at camp, one Jr. High summer long ago, come to mind. 

“Do you not know?  Have you not heard?  The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.  He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.  He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.” - Isaiah 40:28-29 

Oh, how you comfort me with your words.  You meet me where I am—tired and weary.  You promise to give me strength and to increase my power.  My circumstances may not change, but You change me in them. 

I often forget it, but you God, you are holy.  You are set apart.  You are so very different than me.  I am broken.  You are whole.  You are gentle.  You love me perfectly in my brokenness and lead me towards wholeness.  You are able to do so much more than I can imagine. 

I open the Bible in my hand and begin searching to find these words in Isaiah 40. 

The words of promise continue. 

“Even youths grow tired and weary; and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”  -Isaiah 40:30-31 

I grab hold of your promises.  I take that which you have promised and claim it for myself today circling all the behaviors and tantrums and exhaustion and pain and whatever may arise in prayer.  I am placing my hope in the Lord.  I know that whatever comes, you will give me the strength to bear it with your heart for my sweet girl.  Knowing this, I find that inwardly I am soaring. 

*** 

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we trust in the promises of God and claim them for ourselves today.   May He bear us up and lead us to live abundantly in all things. 

Jessica :)

Come To Me

He began pursuing me quietly last spring.

Some family members sat across from me in the living room while my Little Love happily played on the floor between us.  They asked me what I was doing to find rest.  I responded about how I had begun reading for fun on Sundays during naptime.*  That was something, right?  I moved on.

A week or two later, during the first week of the spring session of the mother’s group at Crossroads the question we were to discuss was “How do you seek rest?”  The women around me spoke up and I sat quietly fumbling for anything to say.  I muttered something about the new planner I had purchased and trying to have a plan each day.  It is true that this was helping me to accomplish more, but truly I was treading water and I didn’t even know it.  I moved on.

As summer arrived, life changed as Jason began traveling regularly for the first time in over a year.  Life seemed to be moving along, but as it did exhaustion was beginning to surface alongside two companions, anger and impatience.  These were directed inwardly and toward my poor husband who deserved none of it.  At one point I found myself reading a bunch of Kevin Leman books, one about stress.  It was like he knew what was going on, but I was still in a place of thinking I could handle everything on my plate.  Of course I could.  I moved on.

The schedule on my calendar in August was relentless.   Jason traveling.  Commitments in the evenings.  Home projects.  Food to make for more than just our family.  No breaks.  But something had to break.  It turned out it was me.

I found myself crying in the arms of my husband’s arms, him asking what was wrong.  After weathering the first two weeks, I looked at the rest of the month unable to figure out how I would survive the rest.  He asked what he could do.  I wasn’t sure.

I was reading my Bible trying to hold on.  I was spending time with our family on the weekends, with my girlie at other times.  I wasn’t spending much time with just my husband.  I really didn’t have any time for me, except in the shower at the end of the day.   It was all too much.  Jason listened telling me that he had been trying to tell me this for months.  I know he had.  Finally, I knew.  I couldn’t keep going like this. 

The crazy thing is that some place in me I felt like I should be able to do this without a break.  The truth is the only one who is supposed to be able to do everything is God.  I am not God…though sometimes I try to be in my desire to control the circumstances around me (mostly without realizing it).  The crazy thing is that while I was trying to read God’s Word and connect with Him I seemed to be unaware of the way He was speaking to me in the midst of my circumstances all along.  While I felt like time spent in His word was dry; He was trying to breathe life into my life if I just had eyes to see and would be courageous enough to trust him and give him control.

He was calling out:

"Come to me, [you] are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your soul.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." -Matthew 11:28-30

I needed space to rest.   I needed to find a way to be me again.

So it began.  Jason stayed with our Little Love while I ran some errands.  Although I had no pressing commitments, I was rushing the whole time.  I discovered how inwardly rushed I had become.  It turns out it is a lot easier to get into a rut than to find the way out.  I have embarked on the journey though.  I am working on asking for help from family.  I am also working on finding people to trust my Little Love with when family is not free.  I am doing all this very imperfectly, but as I have been taking small steps forward I have found that I have a bit more energy to do what I knew that I could. 

That seems so very backwards, yet it is true.  When we rest we have the energy to work, to create, to respond.

I am learning to rest again.  I am learning to follow those little nudges of the Holy Spirit again that lead to peace and life and love and rest so that I can rise to whatever the calendar brings and then some.   As I do better, I hope you will find me typing away and sharing the beautiful journey of becoming with you.**

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we pursue Jesus’ promise that when we come to Him we will find rest.  May His rest reach into the deepest parts of who we are and breathe His life into us spilling forth His radiant love.

Jessica :)

*I read often, nursing has been great for that, but it had been months since I had read any fiction for fun.   I tend to devour it and nonfiction is much easier to put down for chores.

**While I hope this means I will be able to post more regularly, I plan to rest as needed.  So if you find yourself enjoying this space on A Becoming Life and not knowing when to expect a post, perhaps you might consider joining the email list to get the next post in your email whether it is one week or a month or a few months!

Knots*

Thinking of this poem after choosing to walk into fear and out in freedom on the other side this week.  Giving thanks for moments like these as tough as they are.

The knots in my stomach—

Tighten and Constrict.

On and off.

Again and again.

All. Day.

As the thought of tonight’s event

Forms in my mind—

Drawing closer and closer,

Minute by minute.

A knot is added to a lengthening chain—

New people—new knot.

Alone to navigate a new place—another knot.

And it feels like I’d rather not go.

I’ve a swirled chain rattling my interior.

And I think I just might be sick.

So I gasp air and grab hold of Truth—

“God did not give us a spirit of fear and timidity.”

Deep breath.  Relax.  Believe.

“The spirit God gives is power, love, and self-discipline.”

My mind assents.

The knot remains.

So too, the Truth.

Two forces battling—

One solid rock.

Other shifting sand.

I breathe deep and go forth clinging to Truth.

I walk in the reality of the moment—

One step in front of the other—

Anxiety is quelled.

 

Taking one moment at a time.

Immersed in that solid Truth.

The Spirit God goes with me.

Giving courage to tackle

One obstacle at a time.

His presence near.

The knots relax—slow.

Truth has won.

Peace reigns.

And the joyous glow of His victory

Burns brightly in my heart.

Sometimes discipleship is like this--clinging tightly to Truth and trusting God one step at a time.

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we cling to Truth and push through fear trusting God, one step at at time.  May we discover that He is able to walk us through more than we think we can handle.  May we find joy in the freedom that follows obedient faith.

Jessica :)

*Reposted from the archives

Drink Deep

As I think about how I am to begin practicing the goodlife I figure it might be helpful to pick a focus. 

I choose to consider taste.  In hind sight, I’m not sure why I pick taste other than perhaps it is something to do with the way my Little Love has been putting things into her mouth with such relish lately.

In the living room, she spots a piece of lint on the floor that fell from the laundry basket or was tracked in on a foot and grins big before quickly shoving it into her mouth.  She does all this lightning quick, before I have time to pluck it from her little hand.  That edge of the carpet that has been pulling away from the kitchen threshold?  Yeah…she’s swallowed that up a time or two when I was looking the other way.  I can tell by the way she coughs as I catch her looking guilty with another piece in hand.

At the table, she grabs strawberries and bites big with the pink juice dripping gloriously down her chin, accompanied with a squeeze of each berry that leaves them in mangled bits that cover her hands and booster tray.  She smears it around with an artist’s flourish and concentration that is quite endearing, if sticky.  She takes bites of mama’s food and sometimes dada’s to—the vegetables, the curry, the beans and rice.  She tries it all, and loves most of it. 

Outside, as I pull weeds she sits nearby on the sidewalk grabbing blades of grass.  Knowing that she often tries to put these in her mouth, I tell her she can pluck them, but not eat them.  She listens, but takes it as an invitation to scrape up a bit of dirt to sample instead. 

In the swimming pool, she is ready to try the leaf that is crumpled at the bottom of the shallow pool.  I distract her with something else for a few moments only to find that while I have been surveying the cloudy sky she has grabbed the hose end and placed it in her mouth instead.

In the bathtub, she nimbly folds her head forward into the water and drinks deep of the soapy water.  She must know that Natalie Babbit wrote that it was delicious. 

I can’t help but laugh.  This girl has tasted and seen the Lord is good.

 

In many small moments, I have for a few seconds caught a glimpse of God’s goodness, but I feel like I’m so busy managing all the messy bits that I don’t often just delight in them.  How to move beyond this? 

Jason reads one night: “You’ve had a taste of God.  Now like infants at the breast, drink deep of God’s pure kindness. Then you’ll grow up mature and whole in God.” 1 Peter 2:2-3

Drink of God’s kindness.  Taste it.

I think of what this picture has looked like in my own arms this last year—my baby drinking deeply.  This is the way God wants me to experience him?  He wants me to drink eagerly, letting his kindness pour in as much and more than I can take in.  Somehow this will grow me up mature and whole in Him.   

It’s a beautiful image.  Babies are made to drink deep, but they do learn in those early weeks how to do it.  So how do I learn to drink deep of God’s kindness? 

How do I move away from managing moments to delighting in them?

I think of the Revolution in World Missions book I have been reading this week.  K.P. Yohannan writes of native missionaries and their children going hungry overseas and here I am wondering how to taste the Lord’s kindness.  Something in me is unlocked in reading this. 

I think He must be teaching me how to drink.

I recognize that God has been watching me struggle.  He knows what I have not seen until now.  I have been living the good life all along without really recognizing it or giving thanks.  He opens my eyes to see all this grace right before me.  His kindness has been there all along.

Left-over lentil sloppy joes in the refrigerator.

Fresh clean water to drink straight from the tap. 

The pineapple and melon on my counter top. 

The jars of legumes, grains, and nuts hanging on my wall. 

The English muffin with egg and cheese I share with my little love at breakfast.

And this is just the start of what is sure to be a long list.

I repent as I consider these brothers and sisters.  I wonder how do they drink deep of the Lord’s kindness? 

How myopic I have been. 

If I am honest, I often too easily tire of my own good food.  I like the luxury of eating out.  I ponder whether I make a bad choice when I buy conventional foods.  I think of that potato I threw out earlier this week, somewhere around the world someone would have salvaged it to make dinner.

In so many ways, I have failed to interpret all this abundance in terms of God’s goodness.

It is dangerous to forget the abundance of God.

“Make sure that when you eat and are satisfied, build pleasant houses and settle in, see your herds and flocks flourish and more and more money come in, watch your standard of living going up and up—make sure you don’t become so full of yourself and your things that you forget God, your God, the God who delivered you from Egyptian slavery;
the God who led you through that huge and fearsome wilderness, those desolate, arid badlands crawling with fiery snakes and scorpions; the God who gave you water gushing from hard rock; the God who gave you manna to eat in the wilderness, something your ancestors had never heard of, in order to give you a taste of the hard life, to test you so that you would be prepared to live well in the days ahead of you.

If you start thinking to yourselves, “I did all this. And all by myself. I’m rich. It’s all mine!”—well, think again. Remember that God, your God, gave you the strength to produce all this wealth so as to confirm the covenant that he promised to your ancestors—as it is today.

If you forget, forget God, your God, and start taking up with other gods, serving and worshiping them, I’m on record right now as giving you firm warning: that will be the end of you; I mean it—destruction. You’ll go to your doom—the same as the nations God is destroying before you; doom because you wouldn’t obey the Voice of God, your God.”  Deuteronomy 8:11-20

With eyes opened I can see how good God is.  I can see that I have a lot to learn about being disciplined and allowing the Holy Spirit to bear the fruit of self-control.  I know my heart will be better for being open to it. 

As I have been thinking about those native missionaries, it comes to me.  They go hungry holding out food that is greater than the stores of my pantry and the contents of my refrigerator—the Bread of Life that transforms a life.

“While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying,“Take and eat; this is my body.”  Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you.  This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.  I tell you, I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.”   Matthew 26:26-29

They know what it is to really drink of the pure kindness of God.

Through them, I am learning too.

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we drink deep of God’s pure kindness. May we be overwhelmed by the changes it works in us.  May we find Him gently drawing us into disciplines in our lives in order to allow us to bless our brothers and sisters around the world out of His more than sufficient abundance.

Jessica :)