January 16, 2012

drilling deep

We were getting dressed for bed in that cold north bedroom of ours, the heater doing what it could.  I don't remember the events of the day, except that it had been restless.

I had been restless.

And it showed.

We were talking, voices low, guarding the sleep of the children with sharp ears.  I said something about joy, I think - or about joylessness, more probably.  And that's when he looked at me and said:

"God loves you.  I love you.  The children love you.  What more do you want?"


I didn't answer.  I still haven't answered.  I don't know the answer.  I don't even understand the question, I guess.

But it points to somewhere that I want to know.

: : :

And now today.  Monday.

The "baby" (who's really a toddler, I know) cries into my tired ears about cutting molars and not wanting to sit in his highchair and no one understanding what it is that he is trying so hard to do.  And the laundry whirls and the daughters bicker and the stack of papers tap-taps at my brain and the baby cries.

And I'm fasting today.  I want to focus on God and so many things tear me away, over and over.

And the baby cries.

And suddenly I see that even this chaos, this cacophony of neediness, is enough to sustain me.  The tears well again to think of it, but it is:  enough.  Their love for me and God at my side in the midst of the laundry and the baby, is enough to nourish me in this moment.

 ... and the restlessness dissipates in the music of the mundane.

: : :

Every tune composed is made up of notes.  The same notes, available to every songwriter.  It's how they're put together - and the spaces in between - that make music sublime, or not.

Lord, let me string these notes you've given me today into praise ...

: : :

# 780 - 789
            Spice's compassion for the homeless
            prayer:  light in fear's darkness
            my very present Help in trouble
            grace to obey
            that a Bible can be pretty, too
            luxury (responsibility?) of choice
            piercing question, drilling deep:  "God loves you.  I love you.  The children love you.  What more do you want?"
            tears
            abundance from His hand
            my fearless Farmer, who sees possibilities instead of problems







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