In Her Eyes

To my Munchkin:

You sat there on the bed, head bent down, resting. Your normally rambunctious spirit is growing up into a joyful, somewhat more subdued one. And I settle myself on the floor and look up into your eyes.

And I see need.

And so I fulfill it. "God loves you SOO much. Did you know that? And Rose loves you SOO much too." Your smile begins to creep across your face and your eyes change.
"Your Mum and Dad also love you. Your sister too, your helpers at work, the people you talk to in the middle of the street."
"They love you because of your smile..." You grin. "Because of your joy, because of your hugs, and because of who you are."

"You're growing up into a beautiful young lady." You points to herself, and I nod. "Yes, you."

And it's your eyes that have me captivated. Those eyes that can be green or blue depending on when and how I see them. They can be mischievous, sorry, joyful, sad, happy, angry, pouting, or needful.

And they tell me of a longing that some may see as unnecessary given your "disabilities."

They tell me of the longing to be loved for who you are inside. For who you are honestly, when everything that stands in the way is stripped away and your personality stands quivering under examination.

And I have come to know you for who you really are. I still find if funny how we can walk down a street hand in hand, honest-to-goodness having a conversation without you saying a word.

Your hands, your communication to the outside world... they are beautiful. People stare and I just smile back. Having known you, I wouldn't trade any of the misunderstandings, embarrassments, or frustrations for any of the hugs, tears of joy, laughs, conversations, walks, and moments that we have had together.

How little I knew when I first walked into your home so many months ago.

And how much I still have to learn about you.

How often have you had someone tell you what a beautiful person you are inside and out?

I don't think you realize how much of a gift you are to me. How much you've taught me in the eight or so months that we've known each other.

And I hope that I can give a little bit of that gift back to you. Affirming instead of reprimanding you. Giving you tough love when you need it, but also giving you new challenges to overcome.

To encourage you to grow and to not hold you back in the little box of what you are now when your potential is huge.

It's such a privilege to get to know you. When I spend time with you, the outside world stops. Number one, because you never hold to anyone's schedule but your own, so I've given up trying. But, number two, because being with you teaches me again and again what is important in the world.

I hope that I never lose your friendship, your trust, or your laughter.

But most of all, I hope that I never lose being able to see your eyes.... and through them.

~ Your Rose

In the Returning

I've been strong for seven days.

Seven long days filled with work, school, schedules, planning meals, washing dishes, cleaning up, and the spring play.

And when I worked with her on Monday, we returned home to find that her father had come to surprise her. He only gets to see her every few weeks.

We were approaching and she saw his car and her face got all excited, her tone got louder, and her eyes started searching for that one that she loves.

As we opened up the door she barged past my talk of taking off coats and boots and straight into the kitchen where he was seated.

And she stood before him, eyes downcast, her shy smile playing on her face, so excited that he was there.

It wasn't long until she broke past her shyness to hug him with all that she was worth.

I tried to persuade her to carry on with our schedule, to get her boots and coats off and to get ready to have a snack, but I knew that it would be useless.

She was entranced with her Daddy, that one that calls her silly names, and makes her laugh.

Now those seven days are over, as soon as I walked in the door last night. I heard laughter emitting from the back rooms of the house and remembered.... they're home!

And I took off my bags, coats and shoes, and went back, still all painted up from performing that night.

They were there, looking through pictures taken this past week of a gymnastics meet, of an Awana Grand Prix, of life while they were gone, sorting through report cards, listening to stories and getting back into the groove of things.

And I sat on the bed for awhile, and then when some of the crowd had dissipated because of an impending bedtime, I sat where I am most comfortable.

In his lap. With my head snuggled down into his shoulder, my Daddy's lap is one of my favourite places to be, especially after a long day.

And I sat there, hearing his heart beat and feeling safe. So very *safe*.

I'm so glad that I am no longer in charge. That there's someone else to do the directing and that I can simply "be" again.

And I am so glad that they are home.

Because they are home.

These past seven days haven't been the best in regards to meeting with my other Daddy. Sleep deprivation seems to eat away at one's desire to wake up early and spend time talking to someone who sometimes seems more tangible than at other times.

But He moves in my life, and I know that He's here, through the grace that He gives when it seems like everything's going downhill and the peace He gives when I feel so overwrought.

And  I should be as excited to meet with my Daddy as she was. Shy, but excited, knowing that He cares more for me than any other that I know. Confident in His love for me.

I should feel as comfortable and safe in His lap as I do in my earthly Daddy's lap. Knowing that I am cared for and looked after, knowing that He knows.

Through the actions of others, He once again gives me a glimpse into who He is.

And I'm so glad that they're home.

In His Gifts

I woke up this morning, peeling open eyelids wanting desperately to shut, starting the conversation that I've had a million times before, inside of my head.

"Would you mind if I slept in, Father? Just today. I need an extra half-an-hour. I could maybe squeeze you in at such-and-such a time. What do you say?"

But even while all of this is running through my head, I know that I should be doing the hard thing and waking up and meeting with Him, because how close I am to Him depends on me... not Him.

It depends on the amount of time I am willing to spend getting to know the Creator who formed me beautifully and for His purposes.

And as I lay there this morning, having this silent conversation, I heard noises outside.

I got up by instinct, found nothing, and went into the bathroom to wash my face and put my contacts.

While I was doing so, my sleepiness was heavy on me, but all of a sudden this well of joy washed over me.

And I breathed in, and breathed out, and it washed over and over and over me.

I almost didn't want to move, but to live in the moment of joy, of connection..... of feeling.

It was there, at my lowest, that He showed me His unfathomable, undeniable, unforgettable joy.

* * * * *

I opened the door and motioned the teacher over. Hoping not to sound too desperate, I asked, "Is there any physical way that I could get an extension on this project?"

I was so tired, I had it kinda-not-really done (in case he said no), and I was feeling no competence on any level, much less genius.

And as I tried to list off my litany of woes without whining, but to prove my point, I was so relieved when he answered, "Yes." 

Now to get it done...

* * * * *

We walked home from the Global Connections service tonight, my little Boo and I. The only ones left in the house, it had taken some persuading, dragging, and use of authority, to get her to go, but she had gone.

And as we walked home, we jumped played the "lava lines" game (in which, if you are so ignorant as to not know the rules, you start with 15 to whatever-amount-you-want-to-make of lives, and then die successive deaths when you step on the sidewalk cracks or puddles). 

We pulled each other into puddles, jumped lines, skipped down the sidewalk, and laughed.

Her laughter is an amazing thing, this one that looks so much like me. And as I start a week where I am often placed in a position of authority, it's a nice reminder that laughter and enjoyment need to be part of everyday life, instead of only rules and regulations.

And He showed me the gift of life today. The gift of feeling in every moment, of breathing in and breathing out... and being.

In These Moments

I've been so busy recently, fulfilling one thing after another, stretching myself thin.

The fog of half-awake hangs before my eyes and I find myself longing...

Longing to stop, look around.... to feel.

Life loves to make me think that I have to be the best at everything I do, and it really isn't true.

But I still believe it.

And as things to get done, people to see, schedules to coordinate, etc. whirl around my head,

I want to push it all aside for a moment, to stop, and just.... be.

Coming back from Colombia, one thing that I had purposed to do, was to do willingly that which is hard and tough.

To make my life disciplined in the small ways so that when He's ready to hand me something bigger, I'll be ready.

There are so many hard things, from getting in a shower early in the morning and waking up at the same time every morning in order to make devotions a habit, to reminding myself of what's really important in every day.

But I fail. I fall. Inevitably, I crumble.

And it's during these moments, that He has me reading Genesis12-26.

These chapters that speak of a man  who was counted as righteous because of his faith, and yet...

Yet, when he visits Egypt, his fear of the Egyptian's lust (and his doubt of God's power), causes him to pass his wife off as his sister.

8 chapters later, guess what?

He does the same thing to Abimelech, the king of Gerar.

Not only that, but guess what Isaac does when faced with the same man, and also having a beautiful wife?

THE SAME THING.

You would have thought that they would have learned their lessons, but apparently not.

And as I think these things, they roost in my heart.

Because I am just as guilty of doing easy things over and over and over and over and over and over and over (Ok, I think you get the idea)... again.

I do realize that He does call us to relax and to take a break,  but this is different.

This is turning away from what I know is right and deliberately doing what is wrong, just because it's easier.

It encourages me, though, to remember that Abraham, a man of faith, failed in similar ways to me.

What encourages me even more, though, is the God who was allowing these things, giving second chances, letting him learn a lesson, bringing him back to repentance each time.

The God who gives me second chances.

And I want to use them wisely.

The stress is pushing in, and I need to re-evaluate my priorities and more burdens are added to my shoulders.

I want to enjoy these moments, so savor them, to learn all that He has for me, to enjoy Him.

{all written when I really should've been in bed)

In the Past (Oldie Goldie's Post)

As I reflect over the past year (which includes all of my blog!), there are so many thoughts running through my head, but the one that remains is:

He is good.

He truly does work together for the good of those who love Him.

And since there's not much else to say, I thought I'd do an oldie goldie's post.

So here ya go, the silly, the cute, the funny, the sweet, the mischievious, the very Christy-ish.... little me:

 

Thanks for all of you who have contributed to make me who I am today!

In Their Gifts

The phone rang this morning, as we were about to sit down to eat breakfast.

I picked it up, still wearing my pajamas mid-morning, and saw that it was her number.

Thinking frantically, I don't think that I have to work today... do I?, I answered the phone and heard him speak.

"She just wanted to call you and to talk to you. I don't know if she'll say anything, because she often has the idea but won't talk when the time comes. Here you go!"

And I heard the shuffle of switching the phone into the hands of one who is physically uncoordinated and heard her breathing in and out.

"Hey, monkey!"

She giggles.

And then she starts off with the exchange that summarizes many of our walks together: "Ma-ma!"

To which I respond: "Ba-by!"

"Huuuu-ah"

I copy her and we both laugh.

This one that cannot speak as freely as I do, this one that cannot move as quickly as I can... this is her way of saying, "I love you."

And as this goes back and forth between us a few times, I am so thankful that I have her. That He gave me her.

Thankful that she needs her "Rose fix" some days, and that she feels so loved by me. And in return, I feel so loved by her.

Not a single worry in the world will refuse to fade when she hugs tight and we stand there, her head nestled close, and my chin on top of her head. 

She is such a gift.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It's the day before my birthday, today. 

And my parents took me out for tea and dessert as part of an early birthday present, to talk and to spend quality time together.

Then, in the middle of our discussions about next year, what my year has been like, and anything and everything, my father pulls this out of his pocket. 

 

And its velvet shone as I waited until they gave me the go-ahead to open it. 

And it sits there, all rosy and golden in the sunlight, and I hug tightly these parents that have guided me through almost-seventeen years of life. 

It isn't a purity ring... rather, it is an acknowledgement of how they have held my heart up until now and want to be involved in the process of choosing, when the time comes, when to give it away, and to whom.

And it speaks to me of the love that these two bestest-ever-people have showered into my life, of the regard that they have for who I have become, and their desire for the best to come my way. 

It's more than just a ring... it's a gift of the greatest kind, because it's more than just material.... it's an understanding and a trust.

And I'm so thankful for the gift of people that He continues to bring into my life... including you!

In the Letting Go

School is looming, and I keep chipping away at it block by block.

But as I scramble to catch up, my grades are anything but desirable, and I struggle with old habits.

Habits of letting my grades define me, because that is one area in which I can be someone... where I am known.

And it's hard to let go of that and say to Him, "If you want that...  You can have it. All of it. I'll let it go."

But there's a balance between letting go and trying my best.

For so long, school has been about excelling, about impressing others, about feeling self worth in something that I'm actually good at.

Now He calls me to seek out the people, to encourage those who need it, to reach out and start up friendships, to make a change in my attitude towards people.

And that means letting grades take the backburner.

It's hard to find my self worth in Him... although I know that I am created beautiful and gifted in His sight, but sometimes that sits in my head, but is never absorbed into my heart.

Even before heading off to Colombia, I knew that this was a problem for me.

But while there, I saw and met so many people who had followed God's passion for their lives, having given up everything that they thought was important just to find that God's plan was so much better.

Once again... I know this to be true, but it's so hard to put into practice.

I want to grab hold of what He has in my future with all of my strength and to let Him guide my every step.

It's so hard to let go.... even knowing the truth of who He is.

When I Don't Understand

We crouched there, on the broken tile courtyard, creating pretty pictures with sidewalk chalk.

Surrounded by clumps of kids, we talked, giggled, and played tic-tac-toe.

And in my peripheral vision, something caught my eye. Kids were starting to colour inbetween the broken tiles instead of on them, and the first though that came to my mind was: Why are they wasting this beautiful chalk?

I wanted to say something, but I didn't, and as time passed... something happened.

What I had seen as messy, unncessary, childish wastefulness earlier, turned into something so beautiful, unique, and out-of-the-box that I was astonished.

 
And as I'm back here and trying to apply the lessons that I learned while in Colombia about my everday mission, what my gifts, passions, and talents are, and what God can do through someone who lets go of everything.... these pictures keep on coming back.

Right now, life is messy. It doesn't always make sense, there's much on my plate and yet I procrastinate.

He's teaching me, and I resist. I try and do it all on my own, and He shows me how that really is impossible.

I feel overwhelmed and like nothing makes sense, and yet life goes on and He gives me strength to persevere and to do my best right here.

But I know that in the end, I'll look back on what I viewed as the unncessary and see how vital it really was. I'll look back on the messy and see what beauty it created later on.

He's working on the masterpiece of me... and it's messy.

But He knows what He's doing. And someday I'll stand before His throne and understand the whys, whens, and hows.

In brokenness... there is beauty.