Category: God (Page 7 of 13)

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]

 

 

Cure for the broken heart

A conversation with H Boy went from God being in our heart, to where our heart is, to the idea of a broken heart. He had all kinds of questions about what might break someone’s heart and how it could be put back together.

I thought, someday he’s going to endure a broken heart. And I will want to break the girl’s kneecap.

Our motherly instinct is to protect. We figure out how to teach, guard and stave off the encroaching threats to the tenderness of these little hearts. Even when they’re 16, 25 and 54, they’ll be our little hearts. We want nothing to bruise them.

My friend Patty B, one of those people everyone should meet, signed her email with an old Hasidic saying:

“It is not within our power to place the divine teachings directly in someone else’s heart.  All that we can do is place them on the surface of the heart so that when the heart breaks they will drop in.”

We cannot force anything any more than we can protect from everything. Indeed, these are 2 sides of the same coin. Our job is neither to shield nor to shovel but to plant. From birth to 18, it’s all planting season. And as Paul puts it, we can plant and we can water but no one but God can make it grow.

Image via CC - muffinn.

Image via CC – muffinn.

The heart breaking, though excruciating, can be the conduit to greater capacities. It can open the floodgates. A broken heart is an open heart, one able to fully receive love if it has been amply planted and is readily available. Similarly, when unsupported, it could shut down the whole machine.

Seeds of hope, of grace, of mercy. Seeds of love, love, love. Seeds of acceptance, of value, of worth.

This is our best work. Not to raise children who escape life unscathed with love shallowly hidden under the surface, but to make it possible for the right seeds to get planted deeply within the heart as it cracks open.

 

 

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