A conversation with my Daddy

Dear God,

                 I am feeling very sad and empty this morning and I am not sure why that is.  I just wish I could break this sadness.  Maybe I am supposed to be sad today.  Really, God, I just want to climb up in Your lap and cry.  I am not even sure what it is I want to cry about.

                  I have been putting myself out there and being vulnerable and maybe that is what is causing the empty feeling.  Maybe that feeling is more of a vulnerability than an emptiness.

                  Lord, please tell me what it is You want me to hear.


"Oh, My daughter!"

*I lean my head into Your chest and pull my knees up to my own as I burrow into Your lap.  Your strong arms gather me into You.  You lean Your forehead down and rest it atop my head as You breathe in my child scent.*

"My beautiful, beloved daughter!"

You say not much louder than a whisper.

"This little girl inside of you who feels so empty, who longs for love, who aches for acceptance and safety; the one you don't know how to quiet or fulfill, this little girl who has you climbing into My lap; I am enough for her and for you.  

Feel my arms of protection wrapped tight around you.  Listen to my heart that beats for you.  Breathe in deep my sweet scent of peace, let it fill your lungs.  Oh little one, know Me, rest in Me, and let the knowledge of who I am fill all of these aching empty spaces.  May that raw open feeling of vulnerability be replaced with the security of knowing just how securely You are held in My hands."

*Long held tears empty themselves out, wetting His robe that lies beneath my head.  I clutch the fabric and press it to my face.*

                   Oh, God, this is where I should have been all along, all those times I was searching for comfort and fulfillment.  All those times I went out trying to quiet the emptiness in the wrong arms, in the places the world said fulfillment lays, help me to come back here when the past rises and the vulnerability comes.  The times I feel empty help me to remember this moment, this holding.  Help me to know that Your lap is always waiting.

*My bitter tears of the pasts hurts and harms empty out and soak into His garments and there bitterness turns to sweet.  Emptiness and vulnerability exchanged with fullness and safety.  I am known and I am loved. He kisses my head as I get up to face the rest of the day.  He is more than enough to fill.*

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, 

that we should be called children of God! 

And that is what we are! 

1 John 3:1 NIV

We are Moving, but God is too

3/7/2013

We are moving. 

It is going to happen.

Whether I am ready for it or not, (which I am not ready for by the way).

All things point to the very real reality that it is going to happen. 

• The fact that we sold our house that we lived in for the last ten years back in November of 2012.  The house that has been my home the longest of any other place claiming that title.  The house that 4 out of 7 of my babies were made in and brought home to.  The house that I thought would be mine forever.  
• The fact that 11 of us have been living in my parents 1200 square foot house since the middle of last August to prepare for the selling of our house and this upcoming move.
• The fact that my husband and therapist keep telling me that this is happening.
• The fact that we have notified the school that we are moving.
• The fact that the Navy has given my husband orders stating the same fact and I have been given the power of attorney for the movers to come and haul away all our belongings.

It isn't so much that I have been living in denial that this all is happenening it is just that it seemed so far off in the distance that I was able to kind of ignore it for a bit.  But now we are down to just 58 days.  It can't be ignored anymore.  Things I have put off have to be done.  Things like:

•  getting shot records and making sure we have all the shots that their new school will require, making sure I find out what shots those are. 
•  Getting in those last minute doctor appointments. 
• Meeting with the movers at our storage unit and unpacking all the boxes that I packed up so that they can re-pack them and have them be insured.
• Making sure I keep out the things we will need on our trip and once we get to our new location 3000 miles away from the place we all call "home".
• Doing this all on my own because my husband will be out to sea until 3 days before we move.

But these things aren't the things that give me the most stress and grief.  The things I worry most about are the things unseen but felt.  The feeling that I am disappointing and stressing out those that I love by moving our family as far away as we can go and still be in the same country.  It is the sadness that I see on our beloved neighbor boy's face as he tells me that my son is his only friend and he will have no one else to play with once we move.  It is my concern for this sweet sweet boy that he will be lost in our absence because I know how much he wants to be loved and accepted and how he will bow to the pressures of those who make unwise choices in order to feel that he is a part of the group.  I want to swoop him up and love him and take him with us to this new beginning.  It is knowing that the girl I call my "daytime daughter" and who I love as my own will be thousands of miles away from me and our home and family has been her second home and family for the last four years and as long as she can remember.  I worry for this girl whose own mother has in all practicality abandoned her for her own pursuit of happiness.  I worry that people we love will be lost before we can come back to this place of home again.  I grieve the loss of what Christmas will be like because it will happen for the first time in my 37 years of life without my sister being with me and I worry how she will live without me as well.

Even with all these worries I still try and find my trust that God knows what He is doing in spite of my mistrust, because there are signs that He is in charge along with the doubts and the fears.

• The fact that our house did sell, in a horrible market, at a price where we still came out ahead of the game.  I feel that in itself is a miracle.
• The fact that He is taking us back to the place where our marriage got off course and we have a chance to right those wrongs that we have been living in for the past fourteen years in the same place it went awry.  A place where we are forced to be interdependent upon each other.
• The fact He is bringing me back to the place where He promised me healing while sitting a hard church pew 14 years ago.  A place I thought I would never go back to and wondered why He would promise such a thing and then not stay true to it.

In the nights where I wake up and all the fears and doubts press down on me and pull at me I have to choose to trust, because really I have no other option.  I can allow myself to be paralized by the insecurities or I can pray this simple prayer:  "I trust you God, help me with my mistrust."  Because that has become my mantra in the last two weeks as the days dwindle down and I can no longer ignore the inevitable.  Sometimes when darkness falls and I wake in the middle of the night it is all I can do to slip those words through my parched lips as the chains of fear and doubt wrap round me tight, but He hears and He lovingly unwinds the chains as I can feel my spirit calm and I am able to drift back to sleep. 

We are moving, but I think that God is too.
It is going to happen.
And I have to trust even in the midst of my mistrust.

The heart of love..

I have a friend whom I have only seen in person three times, and really friend may be the wrong word to use, but I don't quite know what else to call her. Through her blog my heart has been touched many times and I have shed many tears for her and uttered many prayers. Prayers sent on a river of tears to the throne of God. She had a beautiful baby. Ewan (pronounced you win) was his name. He died from a broken heart when he was only 2 weeks old. It has been 8 weeks since he has passed from this life into heaven. She wrote him a beautiful letter. Once again I found my heart being touched with her words. Here is a part of her letter to her precious son.

Team Ewan: Dear Ewan: "I was in love with you before I ever laid eyes on you. When I finally did see you, I knew you. It would be wrong to say that I loved you any more in that moment, but upon having the veil removed -- getting to see your face and look into your eyes, and to experience you looking into mine -- I knew without a doubt that nothing would keep me from loving you, from fighting for you, from offering every ounce of will I possessed on your behalf."


These are the words that are reverberating into my soul. Her words spoken in love to her son. As I read them Jesus whispered to me through them. If a mother could love her son so much in such a short time, how much more could Jesus, the creator and author of life, love me/you/all of us?! Can you hear Him speaking to you through these words?

Read her words again, read them and imagine that Jesus is looking you in the eye and speaking these words directly to you as you read them. It is true you know. He loves us like that. He removed the veil so that we could someday be with Him and look eye to eye with God the Father. He offered His entire being for US. He died on a cross, beaten and broken for OUR sins. Mine and yours. This is the heart of love. This is the love that we have been given. What greater gift is there than this? This holiday season I pray that each of you know how much you are loved, that there is a Savior who whispers these same words to you that a grieving mother longs to whisper to her son. He loves you, he KNOWS you and He STILL loves YOU, He fought the gates of hell for you and offered every ounce of Himself on your behalf.

This deep love for me is baffling. I look at myself and I wonder why He would or could love me, the broken wretch that I am, but He does. He sees me the way a Mother sees her child. With eyes of love. This is what Christmas is about, this is why we celebrate. May He help me to remember each day that He will fight for me.  He will fight for me when I am too weak to fight for myself. If you don't know of this love I pray you find it. I know I am a poor witness, that my bruises might be screaming louder than my words, but still I hope and I pray that you may find a glimmer of truth in my words and that His love will shine light into your hearts this year.

http://canvaschild.blogspot.com/

Linking with Emily and her imperfect prose community today.