Through the Stillness

When I was a little girl, I wanted to fly.

I’d close my eyes and picture the sky…

A bright sun to bring me warmth,

and soothing clouds for much needed shade.

Since this was all in my own little mind,

I created big sparkly stars in the daytime sky.

While I was at it, I thought why not?

I’ll transform into a cute pink pig.

No, no, no!

Not a pig. Pigs don’t even fly!

What shall I be then?

I must be pink.

I must fly! I must fly so very high!

I want to be magical too, you see.

Oh wait, a unicorn flies!

Oh yes, a unicorn I must be.

Horn? Check!

Wings? Double check!

Unicorns can lie in the lush green grass.

Unicorns can also fly high in the sky!

Many days I got lost in my mind.

I got lost in my magical sky.

Something was always missing though.

Something was never quite right.

All of it seemed so perfect.

But! None of it was real.

It was just my way to escape.

There was no real magic in that!

The real magic exists in my imperfect life,

learning to live with all the the good and the bad.

I never really needed a magical sky to fly.

(In honor of national reading month, I wrote a story for my mentee based off a picture she made.)

It isn’t always easy, you know, and I know,

living a life that pulls you to the in between.

Voting confidently one way,

and yet knowing it isn’t the only way.

Living one way and yet knowing,

we must stand arms wide open in the in between.

It is hard to accept, you know, and I know,

this life of being both sinner and saint.

We know what is right but yet we too fall short.

The utter pain and the relentlesss yearning,

to escape the brokenness that we all create.

How weary it is in this time of the in between.

We are to stand strong and admit we’re quite faint

as we show love with both truth and grace.

Point them to more and meet them where they’re at.

Be inclusive at our tables and share the exclusive fact:

There’s a loving Savior who died for us and for them.

Let’s give them the hope, show them the beauty, in the in between.

What would our lives look like if we lived as though God loves us?

If we live as though we’ve surrendered to how wide, long, and deep His love is,

If we embrace the Mary in us who yearns to stop and sit at His feet,

Instead of the Martha who struggles to stop and grasp Him.

Suppose we could accept that He accepts us just as we are,

But doesn’t want us to stay just as we are,

Because He knows the true us He created us to be.

What would our lives look like if we loved as though God loved us?

If we strive to see others through the lens of His wide, long, and deep love,

If we understand their Martha who aches for love and affirmation,

And lead them to their Mary who doesn’t hesitate to sit in His presence.

Suppose we help them accept His love just as they are,

But they don’t want to stay just as they are,

Because our love, through His love, shows them who they’re created to be.

I took this picture while on vacation in Wisconsin. It makes me think of how we are supposed to be a reflection of God’s love. Just as the sky is imperfectly reflected on the water, we will never be capable of fully reflecting God’s love. It doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful and captivating.

What if we began to believe this? Not just for ourselves, but for others as well. It’s easy to accept our own imperfections and to know when the rough waters arise we naturally reflect less. We tend to be harder on others. Don’t we?

When their glimpses of God fade instead of shimmer, we act as though it isn’t there at all. We take it personal instead of pulling them on our boat or sitting with them through their storm. We tell others about their murky water. Then all the others begin to see is the murkiness you pointed out.

What if we began to help still the waters instead of creating more wake? Just imagine for a moment. We’d see more of God’s reflection in them and they’d see more of Him in ours.

I remember the first time I had a piece published in a magazine. I was ecstatic. Then, the edits began. I should’ve used this word instead of that one. I should’ve put this sentence in front of that one. Mind you, the piece was already published. There were no edits needed. I was editing in my mind instead of praising God for the work He did through me.

As of late, I find myself doing this in my every day life as well. If I did more of this and less of that then my life would be better and easier. If I said this instead of that then she wouldn’t have rolled her eyes. If I seemed less excited. More excited? There’s something missing! No, no, no, and no. I need to praise God for the way He made me while knowing that I can never take away all my struggles…no matter how many “edits” I make.

Every strength comes with a struggle. There are flaws found everywhere and in everyone. I believe God made it that way to keep us humble and to remember where and who our strength comes from.

The end.

There are days when I feel as though everything I do gets undone. Clean clothes become unclean. The dishes lose their sparkle with one touch of food. Beds become unmade and floors gather dust in an instant. I’m convinced I can hear the leaves I just swept off my front porch giggle as they rush back in with one gust of wind. Why do I bother?

A while ago, I had my class draw a picture. I told them they could draw whatever they wanted, but no one else could see it. They spread out and hovered over their papers as they drew their masterpieces. I then handed each of them a piece of paper with a hole in the middle to cover their drawings and when they were finished they could exchange theirs with another kid’s. I then had them to move the top paper around to see if they could figure out what the other kid drew through the little hole. It was unsuccesful.

Next, I had them all close their eyes as I taped their pictures on the wall. After all the pictures were up, I had them look through the paper with a hole in it from where they were sitting. They were all amazed at how clearly they could see the drawings from further away. The point was to show them we can’t always see things clearly when we are in the trenches of everyday life. We can’t see how God is working or what our work is doing in the lives of others. Pretty cool, right?

All the things that keep feeling undone really aren’t. It is all doing something. It all matters. When I take a step back, I can see how the steps of yesterdays have moved me and my family forward. I can see God’s grace and love and power in it all, even the hard. So, I continue march forth (through the never ending piles of clothes, dust, leaves, and homework) because I trust God and know He is right here with me.