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In a neighborhood of carefully structured normalcy, my house is the oddball. Most of the yards are 1/4 acre. My home sits on almost one full; touching six other properties. There are no carefully manicured Hollies, and Begonias lined up in rows like soldiers going to battle here. Instead, Zinnias, roses, Cleomenes, Sunflowers, herbs, and vegetables race along beside one another like children running out to play.
The other homes sit close to the street. My front walk meanders along for a bit: long enough to enjoy my garden, or be annoyed by the journey, depending on the personality of the visitor.
Most of the other homes have almost no front porch at all. My house has two large ones: one up, one down. Best of all, I have not one front door, but six- three for each porch.
It is no mansion, but it is full of light, and odd shapes. Each window looks out onto something lovely, and green. The living room is not rectangular, or square; it is an octagon. The domed ceiling above is painted like the sky, and if one takes the time to look closely, an Apatosaurus, and Stegosaurus can be spotted in the clouds.
How strange. How delightful. I love this home.
You see, for me, this place is God’s persistent declaration to me: “I love you. I delight in you…..”
“Will you please sit down and listen for a minute?”
Sometimes, I neglect to heed His call completely. Other times, I stop my body, but my mind races on out of control. A wonderful thing happens when I finally settle in, get quiet, and open my heart: I find God doesn’t speak to me like I speak to myself at all.
Sometimes, I don’t even realize how hateful my thoughts are.
I stub my toe, and I think: ”I’m clumsy.”
I fumble my words, and it is: ”How stupid.”
I forget something despite my to-do app, and my calendar with two alerts, and my automatic sync with the calendar on my computer, and I berate myself again: ”I am so irresponsible!”
One of my children struggles, and I quickly forget all of the hours of training, nurturing, and praying, and I say to myself: “You are a terrible mother. You have utterly failed. What do you have to show for the last 14 years of your life?”
Louder, and louder the condemnation. It is pretty appalling the way I speak to this daughter of the King.
But the Father is calling.
“Come, daughter. Sit down for a moment in this place I have prepared for you. Feel my breath in the breeze. Hear my song in the fountain. See my arms stretched wide in the branches of the oak, and pecan trees. See my smile in the sunrise, and sunset. Listen to my laughter in the crackling logs in the fireplace. Taste my sweetness in a cup of tea at your kitchen table. I love you. Rest your weary heart in Me!”
In the words of my dear friend, and wonderful Bible teacher, Kristie McClelland, “God approaches you in kindness.”
Kindness.
It is time to offer myself a bit more of the same.
“And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.” Ephesians 2:6 – 7
Sometimes, the whirlwind of my life just pulls me under and that, my friends, is when disaster awaits. The older I get, the more I am acutely aware of the fact that the human mind can only process so many things at one time. Go past that point, and things began to unravel.
When my five kids were smaller, I found myself in one of those seasons. When my brain was overloaded, it simply deleted things without consulting me about hierarchy- what was important, what was not….
One day, I received a call from the school.
“Mrs. Gragg, this is the office. We have your children here. Are you going to come get them?”
Turns out, it was a half-day and I completely forgot.
I rushed out the door, and drove frantically across town, berating myself the entire way. Upon arrival at the school, I bolted out of my car and through the office door where I begged forgiveness. That was when the secretary offered her version of comfort (or not).
“Yeah, your son said, ‘Sometimes, my Mommy’s brain flushes things.’”
Nice….
Today was one of those days too. Even though it is a Saturday, I hit the ground running, taking care of things at home. Mid-day, I took off my “Mommy Hat” and slipped on my “Editor Hat” and rushed off to a meeting across town, gulping down my lunch as I went. Just as I pulled into the parking lot, I spilled my water in my lap. (A big “thank you” to the fashion designer who decided to reintroduce dark wash jeans.) Before I could recover from that shock, I glanced at my watch and realized I was late. Then, I began to attempt to navigate a very crowded, very tight parking lot. As I entered the lot, my back wheel bounced up on the curb. Turns out a lot of people have trouble with the layout of this parking lot and someone got sick of countless tires catching this particular curb. So, they came up with a solution.
A solution I saw way too late.
They placed a large boulder at each corner of the entrance. Run up on the curb now, you confront the rock.
And that is what happened to me, and before I realized my mistake, the rock was wedged underneath the side of my van. I was stuck.
Forward. Reverse. Gas. Turn the wheel. Nothing.
Then, a young guy with lots of tattoos left his red convertible to come to my rescue. (Who knew angels rock tattoos and drive sports cars?) He was quickly joined by another man with a friendly smile who reassured me he hit the same rock the week before and could get me loose if I would follow his lead. I promised to do all I was told and got back behind the wheel as they positioned themselves to lift the front of my beat up old minivan.
A moment later, I was shaken but free and gushing my thanks. Then, I found my way to a parking space far away from everyone else. I was tempted to grab my briefcase and run for the meeting. Instead, I decided to practice something God has been attempting to teach me: In the moments when life is the craziest, whether due to disaster, exhaustion, tragedy, heartbreak, personal failure, or sheer stupidity, I should ignore my natural impulse (whatever that may be) and stop to take a moment to discipline myself to turn my full focus to God instead.
It is work. After all, isn’t that when focusing on God is the most difficult? It is much easier to turn my heart toward God when I am blessed with the quiet of morning, with a cup of tea in my hand. The truth is though, it is when life is the most chaotic that my need for Him is greatest.
So, I bowed my head and turned my heart toward eternity, and there I discovered what I have been experiencing over and over lately, but still remains a surprise: God is waiting for me with loving arms open wide.
It is never what I expect. I think I somehow believe some old lie that He will be disappointed and condemning to me in my weakness and failure, but He is not. He waits for me in kindness, acceptance, tenderness, and compassion.
I am so thankful He continues to draw me nearer, faithfully removing the lies I have believed for too long.
So, in honor of Him, I am going to try to offer a little more kindness to myself. I am going to try to cut myself some slack; give myself a little more grace when I fall on my face.
Or…get stuck on a rock.
Cruise on over to my other blog www.braidsbeadstruth.wordpress.com or www.familyofcolor.com to learn about the
great new book for kids by TIME on the Presidency. You can enter for a chance to win the book at www.familyofcolor.com
