they are always Home

Tomorrow is an extra day. An every-four-years bonus. And I need it.

I'm tying the loose-ends together. Packing lunches, books, the little things that offer them comfort.

I tuck them into dark flannel. Their hair fluffy with the freshness of a bath. And I pause to breathe them in.

Pause to breathe deep before we offer a prayer. Pour out our gratitude for this day.

And this night when we ask for another day filled with Him. A day of safety and connection. There is a catch in my throat.

That's what happens, I guess. In those moments when you face the unknown of life. Look it in the face.

When a routine procedure isn't really routine at all. At least not in my days.

When it's quiet, then the call comes. The tiny voice reaching out from in the darkness. My sweet, Big, searching for my heart.

"I can't fall asleep, Mama."

"Why, sweet boy?"

"I just keep thinking about being away from you tomorrow... I'm going to miss you."

I feel it warm, pooling, threatening to spill over. The moment that I am defined to him.


That I am home to him.


I reassure him. Tell him it will be a special day. He's going to be with his brother. Cared for by a beautiful heart created to nurture children. It will be a special day.

An ice cream cone spread with peanut butter waits in his lunch. Waiting to surprise him. Waiting to spread joy across his face.

Joy I won't see. But I feel it, even now.


That is the weaving of hearts. The feeling of home. The way we are always together even in absence.

That is the Love pouring in. Saturating our life. The life shared in Grace.

And that is all I ask for. The only loose-end I never want to leave untied.

Grace woven into them. Their little hearts knowing, wherever they are, they are my heart. They are in Him. 


His.

In all my imperfection, they are completely loved. Immeasurably.

But even my love-them-wild-never-let-them-go heart cannot hold them always near.

The love in me so great it aches is weak in comparison to the Heart that holds them unending.

It is in Him we are bound together. In His Love we are one. Family.

His Love pouring from my heart calls them to Him. The Gift of Love.

The Heart of our Home.

So as each little question comes. When for the tenth time, Middle asks for reassurance. I will remind them.

Offer them the one constant. The One we can always depend on.

They are never alone.

They are held in Love.

They are mine.


They are His.



In Him they are always Home.


He is their Home.

"Our Lord, in all generations you have been our home." Psalm 90:1

the house may fall down

It's afternoon. Nap time. This house that bursts at the seams with the rumble of little boys, is now oddly quiet

I can hear the winter wind whispering across the windows. The light of the clouded sky slips gently into the room. Softly casting its visibility into my life.

I am lying on the bed. The weight of my throbbing limbs held firmly by the layers of cotton and down.

A hill of socks lays to my side. I shoved them over to make room for rest, an odd occurrence in my life.

And, as the sun peaks through from behind its vapor-mask, setting my world aglow, I notice it. It. This thing in me that cringes at the socks on the bed. The mountains of laundry I am struggling to tame. The bathrooms that need to be scrubbed, or maybe just hosed-down.

The catch in my throat in the moment when I feel the grasping. The failing. The weakness.

I am pain. Everything, every fiber of me aches. Throbs. Keeping me up at night. Keeping me down during the day.

The tests were all negative. That's good news. But now what?

More tests.

I know it's food. That little grain that blows in waves in the fields. The heart of my favorite crumbs - bread. Crusty, chewy bread.

And its creating war in my body.


I just need to make it through the tests so I can stop eating it.

I need to know. For sure.

I gave up wheat a few years ago. Gluten, to be precise. Said I didn't need a diagnosis, I felt like a different person. And my littles were SO much healthier. But then I got pregnant. Started to feel awful. Got so tired of the work. Tired of the persistence. And I gave up.

Gave up on me.

Now I am feeling it. Literally. Feeling the pain of giving up. Of choosing not to fight for me. Choosing the easier path.

Sure I was ok for a while. But then slowly it all came back. The migraines, the pain. It all came back, this time with a vengeance. Crippling my life.

This time I get it. This time I am willing to fight. But this time it doesn't feel like a battle.

This time it feels like relief. Freedom.

I guess that's what pain does. We find freedom in the struggle. The awareness of a future absence of pain gives us the strength to change. To choose.

I'm not good at choosing me. I give. Then give more. Until I am running dry.

I'm not good at lying down and leaving the house to rest in it's dust.

I'm not good at depending. Not good at letting go.


I'm not good at Surrender.


But I am learning...

My life has been peeled back layer by layer. The things I held so tightly pried from my hands.

The question repeating over and over in my heart, "Am I enough for you? Will you Cling only to Me?"

And He is Enough. Everything.


The house may fall down. The friends may disown me. My loves may return to dust.

And I will still love Him.

I want a life filled with Him. Saturated in Grace. I want nothing more. I want nothing more.

Only Him.


My life overflows with Blessings. With Love. With tiny smiles.

I feel it deep. The love for them. Measurable only by the Gift of them.

The Love that burns in me, pouring out over them. The love that feels that the loss of them may actually end me.

And yet I know, He continues on. Forever.

And in Him I continue on. Forever.

I am nothing if not in Him. I have nothing. Feel nothing. Love nothing.

I am His.


Weak and broken. Floundering and failing. Agony and struggle.


I am His.


And He is Beauty. Love. Joy. Peace. Comfort.


Everything.

"Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."  Psalm 73:25-26

guest post today @ overcomingloneliness

Today I am over at overcomingloneliness.com with a guest post on pain.

Come over and say hi! And stay tuned for the rest of the series from other writers there...

Pain is a universal part of our lives and discovering Who holds our hearts and strengthens us in the midst of it, makes all the difference. Though He doesn't give us pain, it was never part of His Perfect Design, pain can be made Good.


In the Surrender, the offering of our broken hearts and wounded bodies we find Comfort...


Please join me as I share my heart... overcomingloneliness.com

the Greatest Lover that ever lived

We have this way of making ourselves feel better about being so neglectful. We pick a day and proclaim it important. Worthy of bearing a Saintly name.

That way when we spend the whole year fumbling through love we'll have one day to count a success. One day to fill with flowers and chocolate. But in actuality, isn't that really about demonstrating our love to those around us and not about the loved?

Do we spend moments in sacrifice? Hours pouring over their heart. Learning them. Embracing them.

Really loving. Wholly for the sake of the good of their heart. Not for any return or recognition.

What does it look like to really love?

I'm aching. Lying in bed, my body weary, longing for rest. And my mind is drawn back to faces of this day. A young couple, eyes bright with love, gliding in through the doors. Going in to share a meal.

I'm walking out, arms heavy with baby. Out into the cold morning.

And I'm struck in that moment by their light, bouncing steps. The weightlessness of their love.

What happens when it gets messy? This love-thing. It does you know.

When the weight of it starts to wear heavy under the demands of a life. When the wounds start to ooze and the anger spills over...

Will they still look so bright?

When they have not only known the pains of birthing a baby, but the agony of birthing a marriage. 

Or letting a marriage go.

The kind of love that walks through the fire. Has seen years of labor pains. The union of two hearts that know their vows by walking in them, breathing them. Or even dismantling them.

The love that feels as though you were birthed into it.

The love of broken hearts. Because we're all broken some way or another.

And when it starts to feel heavy. When the words run dry. When they're in the middle of winter. Will they still hold hands? Still glide through doors?

The seasons come and go in nature and in a lifetime. In a marriage. There is always winter before the spring. The time of barren rest preceding prolific blooming.

Love is really only true when its been tried and tested. Refined in the Fire.

Love is not love without sacrifice. The giving up of self.

And you can only carry your own heart. Only change you.

Sometimes you have to let go.

This day of putting love in a box. Of making it something to be bought. This day is hard to walk through when you're in the winter.

When the weight of a brokenness weighs heavy on your love.

So offer your love to the Greatest Lover that ever lived. Pour out your heart into the Hands pierced by love so vast there was Gratitude in the sacrifice of Life. 


The Sacrifice of Life. For you.

And fill your heart with prayer and thanksgiving for the Gift of love. The love that holds strong even in the silence. The heart yet to be known.

For spring will come again. And the cold of winter will be forgotten. The roots will have grown deeper still. And the branches will reach ever stronger, ever higher.

This love is a Refining Gift. From the very Source of Love. From Love Himself. Every ache and need can be filled only in Him. For only He that Created your heart is able to Cradle it.

I wouldn't trade the depth of my Love for all the weightless joy in the world. The roots grown deep into the soil of life.

I am filled with Love. Emptied of Love.

"And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all of the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."  Ephesians 3:17-19

when pain is embraced it purifies

Pain raw and burning crawls up my limbs. I struggle under the weight of my worn body.


These days are mind-focused. Breathing into each movement. Pressing into Him. 


Today I found myself running. The pain of it feels like comfort to this screaming body. I could feel the wind, crisp on my face. Hear my heart pounding loud in my ears. See the small pieces of me, grins spread wide, enjoying the race.


And in that moment I felt the living. 


I am feeling the weight of it. The heavy anchor pulling me low. This pain, this exhaustion.


I've asked the questions. The needles dug deep. Drawing the life from my veins.


I wait now. Wait for the tests to come back. Wait to be defined. Or not.


And I'm struck again by its beauty. This ache in me. The gift of feeling. Of holding the moment. Choosing to breathe, to leave what is insignificant to run in the wind. For relief. For Life.


For my littles.


Pain keeps you present. Keeps you from coasting. Reminds you to Cling.


Pain is a Gift.


I want to sit hands open. Heart spilling over. Soaking in Grace.

The agony. The numbness. The crushing ache that drives me to lie on the floor.  The suffering. All of it, impelling me to Live. To Surrender all.


Pain holds you fixed in the moments. Offers you the gift of filling your lungs slowly. Noticing the Living. 


When pain is embraced it purifies. 


And you are no longer simply enduring, you are Held.


You are Embraced.


Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 
2 Corinthians 4:16-17