Day 24-25: sleeping in

Verses 9 and 18 have been echoing in my head. They each reference morning:

If I ride the wings of the morning... Let me rise in the morning and live always with you!

For the past 4 mornings now, I have been wide awake at exactly 5:50. I'm not, not, not a morning person. I love the beauty and solitude of it when I do get up early, but sleep is much more alluring.

The last time this happened (and I obeyed/got up), the Holy Spirit thrust me into a new level of prayer and experience with God that was incredible and life-altering. I knew it was Him because every day I awoke at exactly the same time. I know exactly when it happened because I journaled it: March 7, 2007. It lasted 3 days.

I feel Him calling me, inviting me to something again, but I have been stubborn and sleeping in.

Day 23: alive

Friday was a beautiful day.

Reflecting on it later I am able to see, again, how, by clinging to God as a branch desperate for connection to the vine for life-giving sap, I am experiencing fruit growing out of my life, which is His.

I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.

Some bicyclists found a terribly injured owl by the side of the road near us. We happened to be at a little neighborhood store and overheard this news and asked if we could go see it. Important note: I am not historically an animal person. At all.

There in a small, mucky ditch lay a magnificent curved brown-and-white spotted head with breath-taking, huge, brown, round eyes looking up at us out of tall, green grass. His sharp yellow beak stood out from his face; his wings were spread sadly and unevenly out from his body which was indistiguishable as it disappeared into the ditch.

When we approached he clicked loudly to let us know he felt threatened so we kept our distance, all of us feeling horribly powerless to help him in his obvious pain and fear.

After several calls, we ended up with the right place where animals are voluntarily rehabilitated. The woman on the phone instructed us to put the owl in a box and she would meet us after she got off work. So we got 3 pairs of gloves and a cardboard box and went to help the poor guy.

I was scared to death. Owls have dangerous claws and strong beaks. As the adult I felt that I should "take charge" because my children might be in danger, but that voice that I am learning to trust pressed upon me that my daughter had a gift with animals. She is gentle, patient and intuitive about what they need and how to be safe. So, I encouraged her, supported her, told her that I knew she had that gift and gave her the gloves.

It was beautiful to watch her. It was the kind of beauty that is what we see when a soul lives as God designed it, called it, purposed it. The owl was scared, but my daughter handled it perfectly. This large, powerful animal allowed my daughter to soothe it with her hand on her head, cradle it's wings in her small hands, pick it up and place it in the box. And then let her caress its beak and let drops of water fall into its open mouth. Exquisite.

She has talked for the past year of wanting to be a vet with a "rehabilitationist" specialty...we met an "animal rehabilitationist" that day. Only God can make those appointments and create those opportunities. And open a mother's eyes to see value in a gift that she normally overlooks, minimizes, scoffs. And trust Him and allow a child to stretch it's wings. To live. Thus God giving living fruit of His Spirit at just the right moment in a child's life.

And in setting her free, I am more alive, too. Fulfilling my own purpose. And hopefully the owl will live as well.

...and the fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control.

Day 22: counting grains of sand

My daughter and I tried to count grains of sand today in order to grasp how many thoughts God has about us.

It was tedious and painful. We measured 1/4 teaspoon sand, spilled it onto a plate, and used a toothpick. We had to employ a magnifying glass to see each grain, and make sure a light was shining on our work. The grains are quite beautiful and we were struck at how different and multi-colored each one is.

Ultimately we had to estimate. We counted a hundred grains which took up 1 square centimeter of space. Spreading out the rest of the grains, we loosely estimated more than 10,000 grains in 1/4 teaspoon of sand! Then imagined the sand on the beach ... utterly mind-blowing.

We took a few minutes to try to capture our own thoughts and count them. Also quite difficult because we had no definition of a "thought." So we looked up the definition:

thought: that which one thinks; a single act of thinking; idea; notion; consideration; care; regard; contemplation; anticipation; expectation.

Looking at the millions of grains of sand in my hand. Holding the knowledge that the Creator of the Universe has more ideas, considerations, regard, contemplations, anticipations about me. About every one of us. Each thought as beautiful and unique as a single grain of sand. It is utterly incomprehensible, and yet as equally awe-filling and worth-imparting.

Day 21, cont'd: tuning in

When my daughter is in her horseback riding lesson indoors during rain, there is chaos. A bunch of kids on horses going different directions and doing different things in the arena, rain hitting the metal roof, multiple instructors barking out orders. I watched tonight and struggled to keep my eye on my daughter and my ear tuned to her trainer's voice. And it struck me how amazing it is that each child knows it's instructor's voice and follows the guidance.

My sheep recognize my voice... I know them, and they follow me.

I've read this psalm so many times now I feel an intimate familiarity with the words. They have a certain feel, a particular voice, a consistent message. They offer comfort and soothe the soul. They point a specific direction. Their celebration is certain. Predictable. Knowable.

This intimacy has shed light on another voice. It has made distinguishable to me another message that contradicts the consistency of the psalm. It tries to convince me that I am not valuable. It whispers doubt. It leads me to darkness.

Several friends have stopped me in the past couple of weeks when I have spoken the words of this "voice." The lies that don't get caught in the filter and seep into my being and out my mouth.

My pastor reminded me recently of the movie, A Beautiful Mind, about a Nobel Laureate in economics who had schizophrenia and heard voices. At the end of the movie, and in his real life, he said that the voices never went away, he just learned to distinguish the real ones and ignore the imaginary ones.

By reading this psalm over and over again, and drinking it's meaning and message into my being, I have learned more distinctly my Shepherd's voice. I am growing in my ability to recognize a fake. Because of what God is doing in this journey with Psalm 139, I can now better tune in to His voice and tune out the false ones.

Day 21: who made thee

The Lamb
by William Blake, 1789
from Songs of Innocence

Little Lamb,who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee.
He is called by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!

I wish I could put my (earthly) Father's music on this blog for you to hear as you read this beautiful poem. These lyrics have been dancing around in my head with the words of Psalm 139 - they speak the same thing: rejoice in who made you.

But how? It is easy to declare, but how to live this way? Rejoicing?

Awareness? Remembering to think about Him as many moments as I can? Looking for Him in all things? I can not do this alone. I need His eyes to see, I need a new heart to experience and perceive and be willing. I need every moment for Him to wash away the last and help me to see anew and with the renewed innocence of a child. I can not do this alone.

Abide in me...

Day 17-20: restoration

I will restore the years the locusts have eaten...

It took 40 years. From the time I was 2 and choosing the destructive path of jealousy until now, at 42. I'm struck at the number which I've only now just realized. 40 years. That is a holy number - for Noah, Moses, the Israelites, Jesus, the Apostles... but I digress!

Mom called this week. She asked me to come to her last concert. It has gotten too painful for her to play and endure hours long practices. I was struck a blow in the heart - I've only just begun to celebrate her gift! She even offered to pay for me to fly, which underscored the importance because my parents have never offered that and really can't afford it.

So I dropped everything. My parents play in several groups in the Loveland, Colorado, area which is rich with talent and culture. My parents have a music studio, my dad focuses on composing and arranging; mom focuses on teaching. This is new for her in "retirement." She put aside her own career for many years to support her husband and kids. Dad was the teacher. Mom did other jobs. But Dad told me this weekend that Mom loves teaching. She has 20 students.

Friday the kids and I made the long, beautiful drive to Colorado.

Mom and Dad also teach private lessons at an Academy and they are good friends with the music instructor. The school hosted it's spring concert Saturday morning, too. The music director chose one of my Dad's compositions to perform. When I was a little girl my Dad wrote music to the poem, The Lamb, by William Blake. It is so beautiful, one of my favorites. And I'd longed for years to hear it live but never have. I got to hear it for the first time being sung by a group of young women with beautiful voices, and the simple instrumental included my mother on violin. The piece sounded truly like a gift from heaven.

Afterward, my mother was greeted again and again by students who obviously had deep love for her and she for them. Over and over, they'd hug and then look eye to eye with sincere care. Valuing her drew them to her. Valuing each other drew them into relationship. There it was before me: the message from Day 3 God gave me - the cure for jealousy. I was so moved - not jealous, not bitter - but overwhelmed with pride and love for her and sadness that I had missed out on the joy of celebrating her for so many years. Missed out on drawing close to her. Their love for her helped me to see her with new eyes. God helped my heart get to a place to finally celebrate and value my Mom, so that I could grow close to her.

Sunday my brother's family joined us in Golden, Colorado to hear what turns out to be both parent's final concert with the Loveland Orchestra. They were accompanying the Golden Chorale performing Mozart's Requiem. My dad plays, well, everything, but in this one various trombones. The theme of the concert was, "Classic Farewells." Appropos for my parent's farewell, too.

Sitting on the front row right in front of my Mom, I could see her face, her fingers, every movement of her arms and expression on her face. I could even hear so well that I could distinguish her particular violin and almost feel it's vibration in my body. I drank in every moment of her playing like never before. I remembered being 2 like it was yesterday and I celebrated being 42 and sitting in the audience of my Mother's playing and thanked God. (See posts from Day 2 and 3)

Our relationship has been difficult for many years. Not just because of the jealousy that God revealed to me from early on, but because of my own selfish, destructive relational choices that are rooted entirely in my utter insecurity. My mother saw my vacuumous need and she could not meet it. I know it broke her heart that whatever she gave me of herself was never enough. That I so often rejected her because she wasn't what I wanted her to be. This trip, this weekend, this action on both our parts - her reaching out to ask me, my dropping everything to go - feels like God reaching down and turning us both toward each other.

Restoring.

He is healing me to be able to be in relationship with her, with others, and ultimately with Him.

Day 16: blossoms

...the flower before the fruit?

I'm not ready to say this journey is bearing fruit. But there may be some blossoms indicative of fruit to come. At the beginning of this month-long journey I wrote that I had realized how my feeling worthless was affecting all my relationships. It is in relationship that I am seeing these blooms:

Conversation. A fresh growth of confidence rooted in being God's, not my own creation, coupled with my increased belief of other's value, seemed to flourish a conversation I had with my husband where I was talking about difficult things but with great respect for him. The evidence of it was that he said he felt encouraged, not lectured.


Jealousy. That ugliness tried to break through the soil of my heart again (see Day 2 and 3) but I was awake, aware and chose the new path God lighted for me! It was a silly, silly thing and I'm going to share it so I continue to live in the light - but it will reveal the total, ugly desperation of my ailing-but-healing heart. The dog. Ok. My husband constantly praises her, tells her how pretty she is, how good she is. I feel jealous because I long to hear him say those things to me. Ah. But this time, I decided to share in his joy of how great she is and draw close to them, to him, instead of pull away in a pout. ! I felt so much better! Even more valuable - maybe because I didn't listen to the stupid lie.

Reaching Out. I am kind of shocked at myself these past few days. It's been sort of out-of-body experiential because I do things - really out of the trueness of who I am when I feel utterly free to be myself - and yet don't recognize this person. Oh have I really drifted so far from who God created me to be? This new solid place that has replaced the black hole in my soul ... it's a reservoir, but solid, it's a wellspring, it's set me free. I've connected with people instead of fearing them. Encouraged naturally instead of holding back in doubt. Embraced and included instead of turning or freezing. The beauty of it is ... alluring. I want to stay this way. In Him I live and move and have my being.