In A Field

    Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one who walks this way.  You are not my everything.  Oh, how I want You to be.  This isn't Your fault, but mine.  I struggle to keep You at the centre of my everything, to carve out just a bit of time to give You.  I have this deep need to love You.  I believe in You with everything I am.  I can't stop it, I am compelled.  But how I struggle with my flesh.      There are times when I don't think I want to move beyond this place.  It's one of blissful ignorance.  Or so I choose to stubbornly, foolishly believe.  Truth is, I can't sit here and remain unmoved.  You, Redeemer, are constantly pulling everything forward, in a direction of restoration, not stagnation.  But You do not force me.  You woo me with Your love.   You show up in wonderful moments of clarity, gloriously to my sur...

I've grown tired of flat prayers spurned on by the need of temporal things and crave those spoken to a God who I've known to bring me through.  He hears me.  I know I am not just spouting empty words to invisible ears.  He is with me.  Down here in the trench of my life.  Into the mess I create and the one created by others.  He never leaves.  His love envelopes who I am and molds me into who I was meant to be from the moment of my being.  I am loved.  I am loved.  I am loved .  He doesn't let me go, he never walks away, he doesn't leave me empty.  He doesn't stop speaking to my heart that aches to hear.  He doesn't grow tired of me the way I tire of myself.  He doesn't give up when all I can see is what is in front of me, not what will be or what can be.  He doesn't lose sight of love.  He doesn't let up.  He cannot stop loving.  He is love....

  I struggle to know what the right choice is when it comes to you.  Do I walk close to keep you in my constant care or do I let you step ahead a little and watch as you walk farther and farther away?  The moment you were born was a letting go.  You breathed your first and I held you close, suddenly so aware of my own inadequacy.  Your sweet newborn smell would quickly fade to the scent of fresh air, good clean dirt, and independence.  I'm caught in the middle of this.  You imply "Stay close enough so I can still hear you singing, but walk back there so I feel like I'm doing this on my own".  Motherhood is a funny thing.  I have nothing to gauge how I'm doing.  You have good days and bad just like me.  Someone could judge one way or another at any given time.  I judge myself.  Most harshly, I am sure. Sometimes I am too caught up in myself to really look at you.  Insecurity nip...

I've learned a few things over the course of the last number of months.  Things you shouldn't do in the midst of uncertainty.  I made a list. withdraw eat for comfort- when you are alone, tired, happy, bored or awake hold onto expectation whine about how things used to be be thankless look on the dark side don't ask for help blame God and pout I dwelt in the hopeless land of this list.  Blinded by my own self pity and the unwillingness to open my eyes.  Fear was the fuel.  But a shift occurred late one night while I sat on Abby's bed and listened as she poured out the heartache that we both shared.  Two girls, separated by almost 30 years, yet so similar in feeling.  It was at that point that I realized I had been choosing fear over faith. Over my life I've mistaken fear for self-reliance.  Holding out hope that just getting through would be enough even though my "faith" claimed far more to life than this.  Wh...

When I was younger, shorter, and blonder, I spent a great deal of time in a field that bordered our land.  It sat on the top of a hill, sloped slightly and gave way to the village below.  There was a well-worn, slanting, and crooked path up the middle.  The view from the top took in about as much that was exciting about the land of Goshen.  A lake.  Fields with cattle and sheep.  Our school, the store, the ball field, my house.  And the road that could take you away.  I felt as though I was as far from home as I could be while still being close enough to hear and see my father calling for me on the back doorstep.  This was my safe place.   It was m y retreat when the weight of the world was too much and I could no longer keep it in.  I would walk to the top and sit in the cool grass, watching as my world kept going.  I could step out of things fo...