Today I took my kiddo with me to celebrate the first birthday of a local rescue home that takes in girls who are victims of human trafficking. It was great to celebrate what is happening through the staff and volunteers who are working with girls who have had the unspeakable done to them.
I had explained to El Kiddo that these girls were horribly abused and people really hurt them (I did not explain any more deeply - he got enough to know why I would care). He was indignant that any parent would allow that to happen and that anyone would do that to someone in the first place. At the celebration there was a box where you could write encouragement to the girls. His said, "I hope you get well soon." While I know he doesn't understand what they need to heal from, he understands that healing is needed.
I was thankful he chose to write anything. I have a passionate conviction about helping others and I express that a lot, but I never tell him he has to agree or that he has to do anything. I just involve him in some of what I do and I live it out in front of him. When he took a card to write a note, it was wholly his own doing. I was so proud he cared enough to write something to hurting girls he'd probably never meet.
During the celebration they had a survivor of trafficking speak. As she told her story, I felt my heart aching for her. A beautiful Indian girl, she said, "I thought if I was just White things wouldn't be this way. I thought I would be loved and worth something." After she told her story - and her incredible story of healing in a safe house - she sat down. The celebration closed and El Kiddo grabbed me and said, "Mom, that girl said she didn't feel like she could be loved because of the color of her skin! That is so wrong! God loves her! She is special! I need to tell her!"
I looked at him. His eyes were wide open. It appalled him that she had said that she didn't think she was special. I told him I'd walk over with him so he could say whatever he wanted to... We approached her and he said, "You are special. The color of your skin doesn't matter. God loves you. I want you to know that. I heard you say you didn't think you were special, but that's not true." She thanked him and talked to him for a few minutes. She asked if she could have a hug and he gave her one of his signature bone-crushing hugs (hope she needed that chiropractic realignment...).
My eyes welled up with tears. He was genuinely grieved that she ever felt she was less than. I watched God take hold of his heart and use him to love someone who had experienced immense brokenness. As we left the event he said, "I'm glad we went. No one should be abused. I'm glad we can help."
Tonight I'm the proudest mama on the planet. Not because I've done anything other than provide an open environment where God is central and where I live what I believe. What happens in El Kiddo's heart is between him and Jesus. And when I get glimpses of God at work and see my sweet boy love well and love real... Well, I'm overjoyed. And I pray that my son becomes a man after God's own heart, loving Jesus with all he has, and loving others well - no matter how messy their lives are or have been.
I'm a Christ follower. These blogs are whatever is on my heart or what I'm learning as I live this life.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Pressing in when being pressed on
Today is one of those days. You know the kind. Where stress seems to overtake you and you hit your limits of what you can handle. The days where everyone is pissed at you, trying to cover their own butts, and oh-so-willing to copy your line manager on stuff - whether or not you could control any of the outcomes to begin with. It's one of those days where it seems nothing works and then you get the call that what you had planned for later in the week just got a whole lot harder and exponentially increased your workload. It's the kind of day where it all rolls uphill if you're in management and you get to step into the conflict of others to defend or protect or help. It's the kind of day where you hit your upper limit of being able to cope with the stress and you close your door to take deep breaths, or go to your car, or go to Starbucks. Or do all three.
And these days don't happen in a vacuum. No, regular life is happening too. You know, the kind where you drop your crying child off at the before school program and end up with snot on your black suit jacket. The kind where the night before you got to have your first real "birds and bees" conversation with your son who is on the cusp of puberty, all while acting like it's totally normal meanwhile you're totally uncomfortable, praying desperately for God to give you the words, and mourning the loss (to a degree) of your baby - and this is all in one breath.
For me, days like today also make me press in. The unbearable pressure from a day where everything seems to be going wrong and not working and where I know my stress level has moved beyond the limit where I can successfully cope and where I feel like just crying - then I press in. It's times like this I feel my weakness and my frailty. I feel how much I need Jesus, and how much I simply cannot stand under the weight of a challenging world without Him. I feel how much I need His strong arms to pick me up and hold me close. I can press in to Him.
And because He is limitless He can hold me up and help me walk forward no matter how beaten and bruised I feel I am.
So I take five minutes, and deep breaths, and for a moment I let myself feel the closeness of Jesus. A few tears escape and drop onto the keyboard while I just exhale, deeply thankful that when I feel like I can't stand up under the pressure, I can press in. Today, I'm a weary traveler. I'm also the daughter of a great God. So life presses on and I press in.
And these days don't happen in a vacuum. No, regular life is happening too. You know, the kind where you drop your crying child off at the before school program and end up with snot on your black suit jacket. The kind where the night before you got to have your first real "birds and bees" conversation with your son who is on the cusp of puberty, all while acting like it's totally normal meanwhile you're totally uncomfortable, praying desperately for God to give you the words, and mourning the loss (to a degree) of your baby - and this is all in one breath.
For me, days like today also make me press in. The unbearable pressure from a day where everything seems to be going wrong and not working and where I know my stress level has moved beyond the limit where I can successfully cope and where I feel like just crying - then I press in. It's times like this I feel my weakness and my frailty. I feel how much I need Jesus, and how much I simply cannot stand under the weight of a challenging world without Him. I feel how much I need His strong arms to pick me up and hold me close. I can press in to Him.
And because He is limitless He can hold me up and help me walk forward no matter how beaten and bruised I feel I am.
So I take five minutes, and deep breaths, and for a moment I let myself feel the closeness of Jesus. A few tears escape and drop onto the keyboard while I just exhale, deeply thankful that when I feel like I can't stand up under the pressure, I can press in. Today, I'm a weary traveler. I'm also the daughter of a great God. So life presses on and I press in.
28 Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
29 He gives power to the faint,
and to him who has no might he increases strength.
30 Even youths shall faint and be weary,
and young men shall fall exhausted;
31 but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
29 He gives power to the faint,
and to him who has no might he increases strength.
30 Even youths shall faint and be weary,
and young men shall fall exhausted;
31 but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.
Isaiah 40:28-31 (ESV)
Friday, July 5, 2013
New Life Where It's Least Expected
I failed.
As a mom.
As a generally organized individual.
I forgot to sign my son up for before and after school care. Now it's full. In three days he starts school and I have few options. With him being on the autism spectrum sudden changes are hard enough. Sudden changes that don't have an easy resolution are devastating. In this week of transition I threw in another one through my own lack of organization. I let him down as it relates to his routine. I let him down at a grade transition. I just plain let him down.
And, I'll confess, I'm having some tough moments, too. I know that we'll figure something out. We always do. We're survivors. Somehow, we will make this work. I'll find something, we'll walk through it, and it will be okay.
And then I cry, not knowing how this will work out and heartbroken because I've caused my son more challenges. Yeah, stuff happens in life and sometimes I even orchestrate change so he can grow in this area. But I'm also so cognizant of his anxiety, his need to understand, and I try so hard to only make beneficial changes. And this surely doesn't feel like one.
In the midst of scrambling to figure it out I've been crying out to God. I really have no other place to take what I feel. He's the only one who can bear the brunt of my stress and still love me as I flail and freak out and try to trust. Yes, we've been in precarious spots before. He always provides. So, in the middle of my distress I did what all people do - went to get Thai takeout.
Okay, maybe no one else does that. But I have no dinner-making materials so it's a takeout night. Besides, I find curry comforting.
As I came back in my house, I looked down that the attempts I have on my front porch at growing plants. Two pots are doing well. One pot is dead.
Well, I thought it was dead.
As I surveyed my "garden" I saw what appeared to be little shoots coming out of the soil. The closer I looked I could see it - there was new life. In this plant that I thought had no hope there was new life.
Peace flooded me as I thought about what Jesus says about new life. He brings beauty from ashes - even ashes I helped to create. And that brings me peace. It brings me peace to know He can (and does) redeem anything. He loves both my son and me more than I could eve hope to. He is with us. He will bring new life.
I walked into the house, set down my Thai food, and just thanked Him. I am no closer to resolution than I was before I left. I'm no less sad. But I am at peace. Even in the moments where holding on to who God is seems nearly impossible, He shows up. He transcends my mistakes and failures and loves me (and my son!) with an unbridled love that I can't even begin to fully fathom. He is here.
As a mom.
As a generally organized individual.
I forgot to sign my son up for before and after school care. Now it's full. In three days he starts school and I have few options. With him being on the autism spectrum sudden changes are hard enough. Sudden changes that don't have an easy resolution are devastating. In this week of transition I threw in another one through my own lack of organization. I let him down as it relates to his routine. I let him down at a grade transition. I just plain let him down.
And, I'll confess, I'm having some tough moments, too. I know that we'll figure something out. We always do. We're survivors. Somehow, we will make this work. I'll find something, we'll walk through it, and it will be okay.
And then I cry, not knowing how this will work out and heartbroken because I've caused my son more challenges. Yeah, stuff happens in life and sometimes I even orchestrate change so he can grow in this area. But I'm also so cognizant of his anxiety, his need to understand, and I try so hard to only make beneficial changes. And this surely doesn't feel like one.
In the midst of scrambling to figure it out I've been crying out to God. I really have no other place to take what I feel. He's the only one who can bear the brunt of my stress and still love me as I flail and freak out and try to trust. Yes, we've been in precarious spots before. He always provides. So, in the middle of my distress I did what all people do - went to get Thai takeout.
Okay, maybe no one else does that. But I have no dinner-making materials so it's a takeout night. Besides, I find curry comforting.
As I came back in my house, I looked down that the attempts I have on my front porch at growing plants. Two pots are doing well. One pot is dead.
Well, I thought it was dead.
As I surveyed my "garden" I saw what appeared to be little shoots coming out of the soil. The closer I looked I could see it - there was new life. In this plant that I thought had no hope there was new life.
Peace flooded me as I thought about what Jesus says about new life. He brings beauty from ashes - even ashes I helped to create. And that brings me peace. It brings me peace to know He can (and does) redeem anything. He loves both my son and me more than I could eve hope to. He is with us. He will bring new life.
I walked into the house, set down my Thai food, and just thanked Him. I am no closer to resolution than I was before I left. I'm no less sad. But I am at peace. Even in the moments where holding on to who God is seems nearly impossible, He shows up. He transcends my mistakes and failures and loves me (and my son!) with an unbridled love that I can't even begin to fully fathom. He is here.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Swallowing Poison
"For false christs and false prophets will rise and show signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect." Mark 13:32 (NKJV)
When Jesus made this statement, which is also repeated in Matthew's gospel, He was telling His disciples what to watch for in the end times. Without getting too deep into eschatology, I think this is a sober warning for all believers whether we believe this is the end times or not.
There has been doctrinal discussion and debates since the beginning of the church (see Acts 15 where Paul takes up the discussion of circumcision for salvation with the crew in Jerusalem). Sometimes the debate and discussion are good and help us all to think more clearly.
Where things go awry is when heresy is introduced. Outright heresy is easy to spot, but often that's not how it gets in. The person espousing the heresy coats it in things that are truth and uses words that our flesh likes to hear. The information makes us think, and it sounds good, and there is truth... The heresy becomes difficult to spot.
I am all for reading many ideas from many people, taking in the good and discarding the bad, but if Mark 13:32 is correct, then I need to be incredibly careful. If the attempt is to deceive even the elect it means that whatever is being taught has to be palatable to believers. It means I'm vulnerable. If Jeremiah 17:9 says my heart is desperately wicked and I don't even know how wicked, then this warning is one I should heed all the more.
Heresy is, plain and simple, poison. It draws you away from Jesus. When you coat heresy in truth and words that are palatable and soothing it is akin to wrapping that poison in sugar. The outside is fine, just sugar after all... but the inside? Well, it's deadly.
Our enemy is like a roaring lion and he will take out whomever he can, whenever he can. We are called to be vigilant (1 Peter 5:8). In this day and age where information flows more freely than water, and eloquent ideas are given that seem so good and pleasing, we better be watching - we better be vigilant. We better be relying on the Holy Spirit for discernment. If we aren't, we are opening ourselves up to be deceived... even if we are the elect.
There is a way that seems right to a man, But its end is the way of death. (Proverbs 14:12, NKJV)
Be careful little eyes what you see... be careful little ears what you hear... be careful little heart what you believe...
When Jesus made this statement, which is also repeated in Matthew's gospel, He was telling His disciples what to watch for in the end times. Without getting too deep into eschatology, I think this is a sober warning for all believers whether we believe this is the end times or not.
There has been doctrinal discussion and debates since the beginning of the church (see Acts 15 where Paul takes up the discussion of circumcision for salvation with the crew in Jerusalem). Sometimes the debate and discussion are good and help us all to think more clearly.
Where things go awry is when heresy is introduced. Outright heresy is easy to spot, but often that's not how it gets in. The person espousing the heresy coats it in things that are truth and uses words that our flesh likes to hear. The information makes us think, and it sounds good, and there is truth... The heresy becomes difficult to spot.
I am all for reading many ideas from many people, taking in the good and discarding the bad, but if Mark 13:32 is correct, then I need to be incredibly careful. If the attempt is to deceive even the elect it means that whatever is being taught has to be palatable to believers. It means I'm vulnerable. If Jeremiah 17:9 says my heart is desperately wicked and I don't even know how wicked, then this warning is one I should heed all the more.
Heresy is, plain and simple, poison. It draws you away from Jesus. When you coat heresy in truth and words that are palatable and soothing it is akin to wrapping that poison in sugar. The outside is fine, just sugar after all... but the inside? Well, it's deadly.
Our enemy is like a roaring lion and he will take out whomever he can, whenever he can. We are called to be vigilant (1 Peter 5:8). In this day and age where information flows more freely than water, and eloquent ideas are given that seem so good and pleasing, we better be watching - we better be vigilant. We better be relying on the Holy Spirit for discernment. If we aren't, we are opening ourselves up to be deceived... even if we are the elect.
There is a way that seems right to a man, But its end is the way of death. (Proverbs 14:12, NKJV)
Be careful little eyes what you see... be careful little ears what you hear... be careful little heart what you believe...
Monday, June 10, 2013
Souls Knit Together
I had the occasion early this morning, before work, to have coffee with my very best friend. This woman and I have lived some life together in the past decade plus. We've been through births, deaths, growth, joy, pain, and a myriad of other things side by side. She has seen me at my best and she's seen me at my shockingly worst. She's seen me argue with God, ignore God, and submit to God. We've been in the messy of life together and I am so thankful.
The time we get to spend together is soul filling. I completely understand 1 Samuel 18:1 (NKJV) where it says, "the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul." This is how I feel about this friend. Through a work of the Holy Spirit our souls are knit together. And I need that, desperately need that. Today was a time of refreshing, a time of drinking deeply from Christ and enjoying each other. It was a time, after a week of travel, headed into work on a day that is very Monday, for which I was desperate. As I left I was reminded of Paul's words to the Philippians (1:3), "I thank my God upon every remembrance of you..." I am so thankful as I negotiate this day where there don't seem to be enough minutes, where more demands my attention than I have time to give, that God provided soul refreshment. He is a good God.
And so, I face this day refreshed and full. And thankful. Oh so thankful.
The time we get to spend together is soul filling. I completely understand 1 Samuel 18:1 (NKJV) where it says, "the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul." This is how I feel about this friend. Through a work of the Holy Spirit our souls are knit together. And I need that, desperately need that. Today was a time of refreshing, a time of drinking deeply from Christ and enjoying each other. It was a time, after a week of travel, headed into work on a day that is very Monday, for which I was desperate. As I left I was reminded of Paul's words to the Philippians (1:3), "I thank my God upon every remembrance of you..." I am so thankful as I negotiate this day where there don't seem to be enough minutes, where more demands my attention than I have time to give, that God provided soul refreshment. He is a good God.
And so, I face this day refreshed and full. And thankful. Oh so thankful.
Friday, June 7, 2013
Being the Odd Woman Out
A friend of mine and I were talking once about being a square peg in a round hole. I tend to feel like this often, especially when I'm outside my comfort zone. He said he likes being the odd man out. I'm not sure I said it directly to him, but I kinda thought he was crazy.
I've been the odd woman out many times. In fact, I've joked that I am, at times, God's personal guinea pig. He puts me in situations that not only foster my growth, but the growth of someone else. These situations are never easy or lightweight. Often, they're life-changing moments. I'm better with this than I used to be, thanks in large part to a gracious God. I've learned that being the odd woman out can be awkward, it can be good, or it can be both. Today, I got both.
I'm at a conference, at which I'll be speaking tomorrow morning. I tripped and fell into this conference. I got a call for abstracts, I had an opinion about the topic, and I provided an abstract. Never in a zillion years did I think that I'd get selected.
I got selected.
It's a conference unlike any I've ever experienced. Most people know each other and have been coming for years. About two thirds are old enough to be either my parent or my grandparent. I'm much more rock and roll, and these folks are - shall we say - hymnal. My first experience yesterday was that of being met with skepticism and awe. Awe because my presence was so fully unexpected. I was asked several times, "How did you get here?" It wasn't hostile, but genuine curiosity.
I left yesterday genuinely worried about what the next two days may hold. It was kind-of like I was T-Rex and everyone wanted to take a look. Since I suck at keeping a low profile and I'm constantly thinking and wondering (hello - I'm in research!) I was engaging in the sessions in which I participated. So this morning I thought, "Okay, I guess we're going for odd-woman-out awkward for this one."
I was only partly right.
Yes, I'm an anomaly, but to most with whom I've spoken a GOOD anomaly. In the first session today we were talking about medical and pharmaceutical ethics. I asked questions and provided my opinion. Of course, I wasn't the only one! We had some incredible discussion as a group! I moved on to my next session intellectually stimulated with knowledge I can bring back to my day job and to (hopefully!) future counseling practice!
The second session was much more diverse in age and style. I sat next to a dude with "end slavery" on his bracelet. I liked that guy instantly. He also had long hair and was wearing jeans. Anyway, the topic was assessing spirituality in counseling. It was some of my favorite topics combined - research, Jesus, counseling, and theology. I actively participated in that session, and (not gonna lie) was kinda fired up. I wasn't the only one, but I do have my own brand of fired-up-ness. I had the chance to talk with the speakers afterward - they are some incredible minds. Again, I took much back with me for thought and learning.
By the final session of the day, we were talking about pharmaceutical compounding and its risks and what sort of oversight is needed. Before the session, the chair came over and introduced himself to me. He had remembered me from the initial morning session. He thanked me for coming. He thanked me for my questions and my opinions. He was genuinely glad to have me at the conference and in his session. I had three other people come and say the same thing to me. I got to have some amazing, intellectually stimulating conversations about amazing things with some really incredible thinkers and people.
On the way out to my car at today's end I was stopped by a woman who was in the medical sessions with me. She asked me, "How did you get here?" when finding out my affiliation. I smiled and told her my story. We had a great talk about ethics and medicine and research.
Yes, it was awkward to be asked (again) how I got here, but it was good because I am different. I am the odd woman out here, but that's not exactly a bad thing. I've learned so much in the past 24 hours that I'm excited to share with people and that is helping my own personal, spiritual, and professional formation - I'll take being the odd woman out. Like my friend, I may just find out that I like it.
I've been the odd woman out many times. In fact, I've joked that I am, at times, God's personal guinea pig. He puts me in situations that not only foster my growth, but the growth of someone else. These situations are never easy or lightweight. Often, they're life-changing moments. I'm better with this than I used to be, thanks in large part to a gracious God. I've learned that being the odd woman out can be awkward, it can be good, or it can be both. Today, I got both.
I'm at a conference, at which I'll be speaking tomorrow morning. I tripped and fell into this conference. I got a call for abstracts, I had an opinion about the topic, and I provided an abstract. Never in a zillion years did I think that I'd get selected.
I got selected.
It's a conference unlike any I've ever experienced. Most people know each other and have been coming for years. About two thirds are old enough to be either my parent or my grandparent. I'm much more rock and roll, and these folks are - shall we say - hymnal. My first experience yesterday was that of being met with skepticism and awe. Awe because my presence was so fully unexpected. I was asked several times, "How did you get here?" It wasn't hostile, but genuine curiosity.
I left yesterday genuinely worried about what the next two days may hold. It was kind-of like I was T-Rex and everyone wanted to take a look. Since I suck at keeping a low profile and I'm constantly thinking and wondering (hello - I'm in research!) I was engaging in the sessions in which I participated. So this morning I thought, "Okay, I guess we're going for odd-woman-out awkward for this one."
I was only partly right.
Yes, I'm an anomaly, but to most with whom I've spoken a GOOD anomaly. In the first session today we were talking about medical and pharmaceutical ethics. I asked questions and provided my opinion. Of course, I wasn't the only one! We had some incredible discussion as a group! I moved on to my next session intellectually stimulated with knowledge I can bring back to my day job and to (hopefully!) future counseling practice!
The second session was much more diverse in age and style. I sat next to a dude with "end slavery" on his bracelet. I liked that guy instantly. He also had long hair and was wearing jeans. Anyway, the topic was assessing spirituality in counseling. It was some of my favorite topics combined - research, Jesus, counseling, and theology. I actively participated in that session, and (not gonna lie) was kinda fired up. I wasn't the only one, but I do have my own brand of fired-up-ness. I had the chance to talk with the speakers afterward - they are some incredible minds. Again, I took much back with me for thought and learning.
By the final session of the day, we were talking about pharmaceutical compounding and its risks and what sort of oversight is needed. Before the session, the chair came over and introduced himself to me. He had remembered me from the initial morning session. He thanked me for coming. He thanked me for my questions and my opinions. He was genuinely glad to have me at the conference and in his session. I had three other people come and say the same thing to me. I got to have some amazing, intellectually stimulating conversations about amazing things with some really incredible thinkers and people.
On the way out to my car at today's end I was stopped by a woman who was in the medical sessions with me. She asked me, "How did you get here?" when finding out my affiliation. I smiled and told her my story. We had a great talk about ethics and medicine and research.
Yes, it was awkward to be asked (again) how I got here, but it was good because I am different. I am the odd woman out here, but that's not exactly a bad thing. I've learned so much in the past 24 hours that I'm excited to share with people and that is helping my own personal, spiritual, and professional formation - I'll take being the odd woman out. Like my friend, I may just find out that I like it.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
A Full Heart
I recently took my son to The Melting Pot for our occasional "fancy dinner." I do these dinners with him to teach him appropriate manners, to allow him to experience new things, and to just plain have fun and be together. He chose the restaurant after I explained to him what it was. When we got there he was such a gentleman. He spoke appropriately to the waitress, making eye contact (which is HUGE for a child with Asperger's). He allowed me to order the food since he had no idea what most of it was, aside from the salad - he knows his salad because he loves them.
When they made the cheese fondue for the first course table side, his eyes were as big as saucers. He was amazed by the whole thing. He was equally amazed by the fact he got to skewer things and dip them in the cheese and then eat them. Talk about exciting sensory input! He dutifully skewered, dipped, and ate a little of all the things they brought - bread, apples, and veggies. His amazement continued when they brought the salad, then as they brought the entree. When he cooked his first piece of chicken in the broth he had this amazing look of satisfaction and said, "Mom, I cooked this! And it's good!" My heart overflowed with joy watching his joy. And I think he nearly lost a synapse when they brought out a pot of melted dark chocolate with sweet stuff and fruit to dip! He said over and over what a great restaurant it was and how he wanted to go again for his birthday.
As I sat here this morning reflecting on this experience with him, my heart was full. Seeing his joy like that is absolutely the best thing ever! I love watching him have new experiences and try new things, even things that are a little bit scary at first. And I love it despite the great cost I paid (The Melting Pot is not cheap!).
Then it struck me... This is the same type of full heart that God has when I do the same thing. He delights in my joy. He delights in my taking those risks as He leads me (knowing that any risk I take He is ordaining and will care for me). He just plain delights in me. He enjoys watching my amazement and wonder when I see Him act. He enjoys my sense of awe when I connect with His creation and with Him. His heart is full when He watches me, like my heart is full when I watch my son. And He paid a great price to be able to delight in me, much more than I paid to take my son out to "fancy dinner."
Today this brought me to my knees in worship. To know I'm loved and delighted in even more than I can possibly love and delight in my son (after all, I'm not God) is staggering. To know that God paid the greatest price imaginable so He could have this relationship with me is... there just aren't words. I am thankful that God brought me a son so I could see the world to a degree through God's eyes. So I can have my amazement and wonder rekindled as I watch my son live life. So I can get a sense of how deeply God delights in me.
And here's the thing... He feels that way about all of His kids. I'm not the only one. May you and I live each and every day with that knowledge being as tangible as the physical realm around us. May we know how our Father delights in us and may that color our choices in every possible way.
When they made the cheese fondue for the first course table side, his eyes were as big as saucers. He was amazed by the whole thing. He was equally amazed by the fact he got to skewer things and dip them in the cheese and then eat them. Talk about exciting sensory input! He dutifully skewered, dipped, and ate a little of all the things they brought - bread, apples, and veggies. His amazement continued when they brought the salad, then as they brought the entree. When he cooked his first piece of chicken in the broth he had this amazing look of satisfaction and said, "Mom, I cooked this! And it's good!" My heart overflowed with joy watching his joy. And I think he nearly lost a synapse when they brought out a pot of melted dark chocolate with sweet stuff and fruit to dip! He said over and over what a great restaurant it was and how he wanted to go again for his birthday.
As I sat here this morning reflecting on this experience with him, my heart was full. Seeing his joy like that is absolutely the best thing ever! I love watching him have new experiences and try new things, even things that are a little bit scary at first. And I love it despite the great cost I paid (The Melting Pot is not cheap!).
Then it struck me... This is the same type of full heart that God has when I do the same thing. He delights in my joy. He delights in my taking those risks as He leads me (knowing that any risk I take He is ordaining and will care for me). He just plain delights in me. He enjoys watching my amazement and wonder when I see Him act. He enjoys my sense of awe when I connect with His creation and with Him. His heart is full when He watches me, like my heart is full when I watch my son. And He paid a great price to be able to delight in me, much more than I paid to take my son out to "fancy dinner."
Today this brought me to my knees in worship. To know I'm loved and delighted in even more than I can possibly love and delight in my son (after all, I'm not God) is staggering. To know that God paid the greatest price imaginable so He could have this relationship with me is... there just aren't words. I am thankful that God brought me a son so I could see the world to a degree through God's eyes. So I can have my amazement and wonder rekindled as I watch my son live life. So I can get a sense of how deeply God delights in me.
And here's the thing... He feels that way about all of His kids. I'm not the only one. May you and I live each and every day with that knowledge being as tangible as the physical realm around us. May we know how our Father delights in us and may that color our choices in every possible way.
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