Category: faith (Page 4 of 7)

Weaned by God

My last two babies nursed all. the. time. Of course they “slept through the night” – they slept supremely well for 3 hours, until they needed their next milk fix.  Of course, they didn’t “need” to eat, but it was like Ponderosa in the late 80’s and if you have chicken wings readily available, why not enjoy a few more for the sake of deliciousness? For my life situation, including 2-3 other sleeping children in rooms nearby, it was easier to feed them than endure the cries that come with learning to wait until breakfast, so I continued to nurse 2-3 times a night. It was simply life and it didn’t frustrate me much after I came to terms with it. (Though, saying it 6 months on the other side of sleeping only in 3 hour increments, I sound more gracious than what I perhaps felt at the time.)

One to two days after we fully weaned, my children didn’t wake for feedings. It didn’t take long to remind them that the shop was closed and dark time was for sleeping, not the buffet. Within the week, there was a new freedom to our relationship. They didn’t just want me to feel better, which they had historically achieved by filling their belly. Now our snuggles and our time together, just living each day, filled that need.

One of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott, chooses to refer to God in the feminine and I appreciate her bringing to light the fact that God carries both natures – he created both man and woman in his image. I think only a God who created nursing mothers would inspire the words of King David in Psalm 131.

Psalm 131

My heart is not proud, Lord;
my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.
But I have calmed myself
and quieted my ambitions.
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.
Israel, put your hope in the Lord
both now and forevermore.

The great King David, the one who put mighty Israel on the map. The man who ruled, bringing prosperity to all, with an eye and a heart for the downtrodden. A king, who, when you overlook that adultery, murder and misuse of power mishap, gave a great face to the God of Israel. In fact, I was reading about the idea of “the Kingdom of God” and much of our understanding of that phrase goes back to David’s rule, where it was understood to be a manifestation of God’s reign among his people. To say that David did great and mighty things – “great matters or things too wonderful” – would be an understatement. David was not a sit-back-and-see-what-happens kinda guy.

But this bit of poetry casts David’s heart in a new light. While he was all about the Lord’s work, he also knew his place. His relationship with God became such that he didn’t constantly crave what God could give him, but rather God’s presence. Like a weaned child – not a child driven by a belly’s growl. Not a baby, who, though she loves her mother, defines her mother’s love by what is given or how often it is offered.

Like a weaned child I am content. God has provided. He has proven his ability to give what I need. Now I don’t need God to serve me to be content with him.

Reading this, I’m prone to believe that there was a time in David’s life that he was concerned with great matters. Being a King, one would hope so. But this particular phase in life, David calmed himself and quieted his ambitions. Now David and God connected through presence, not productivity. David didn’t stop ruling the nation; he simply stopped believing that provision was the only way to understand or experience God.

It turns out, the hand of God, or – more accurately, from this Psalm – the breast of God, isn’t the only way draw close to Him Her.

Celebrate Sunday

[box] “O God, who makest us glad with the weekly remembrance of the glorious resurrection of they Son our Lord…”

-The Book of Common Prayer, A Collect for Sundays[/box]

Antonio Brilla's The finding of the empty tomb of Christ

Antonio Brilla’s The finding of the empty tomb of Christ

I’ve heard it said that we’re an “Easter People.” But on any given Sunday, is that true? The last time I have chanted He is Risen! was on Easter and then alone.

We tend to point to a cross when we need the empty grave. 

Why are we so stuck on Friday? We recount the sin of that day, the hurt, the awful. Friday has its rightful day of the week, the day of mourning and grief.

But it’s Sunday! He took that to the grave and left it there.

We choose to gather on Sunday, the day the women sprinted back to the disciples and revealed that Christ had beat all that we feared. Their burial spices were useless because Jesus left an empty tomb. Life, as we know it, will never be the same.

Today, on Sunday, don’t live in Friday. Live Sunday. Resurrection. Every Sunday.

[box] “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

-Jesus, John 16:33[/box]

 

 

Dueling Crayons

Photo Credit: CC - Paul Bonhomme.

Photo Credit: CC – Paul Bonhomme.

Miss M, in her new awareness of “pretty” started combing her hair until it straightened. It saddened me to watch the curls unravel, but even more so, to see at an early age such a desire to be other than her created self. Perhaps I contributed to the problem – I both started straightening my hair via blow dryer this summer with a new style and I told her I loved her curls. In any case, she’s not convinced the curls should stay.

I told her – and all of them – that God had created them as individuals. We talked about how before they were in their mama’s belly, God got out a piece of paper and some crayons and began to make a Miss M. And an H Boy,  a Lady C and a Mr. M. I told her how God does amazing work and doesn’t make mistakes, all of his creations are beautiful because they have a little piece of God in them. His fingerprints are on his paintings, on us.

 

There are no kids across the street anymore. Mom is still there, smoking on the front porch. The male figure(s) arrive and leave, yesterday with loud shouting and some physical restraint. I can’t imagine that when God pulled out his fresh piece of clean white paper, this is what He drew. I don’t believe this woman grew up aspiring to the children’s services rotation. She never dreamed of relationships that would drown her. She doesn’t want this. Either does God.

 

Straightening our hair or poisoning our minds with artificial and temporary fulfillment – we all have our way of picking up a black crayon and telling God, “nice try.” As co-creators, commissioned to continue what He began in his first 6 days, we spend time with the paper. The question isn’t if we draw, it’s what we draw.

We have opportunity to sit with the master, to learn how to take long, careful strokes. He can tell us how to blend the most extraordinary colors, to accent with shadows and make a piece come alive and jump off the paper. We can sit, listen, absorb, practice, be corrected, seek feedback and take risks under the supervision of the Master.

Or we can take a black crayon and declare the entire work trash.

Either way, I’m in firm belief that God never stops drawing. If we’re breathing, he’s adding color. You cannot scribble which he cannot work into something of overall beauty.

At any time, we can join him. We can begin to choose complementary colors. They might be elementary. Perhaps we start with stick figures and sunshines. It doesn’t matter. A heart that looks to learn and create something of beauty, rather than living in anger with the paper, is a heart that is in tune with God. And God can make beautiful things (as Gungor lyrically puts it) out of dust and out of us.

Choose your crayon.

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