Hiding in Secret Leads to a Solitary Party

Yesterday I awoke.

The summer sun gently began making rounds.  I pulled a shot from the trusty machine and sat, and spilled.  Discouraged, but slightly hopeful.  Slightly hopeful, because when one speaks of distress, hurt, anguish--community comes pouring.  

This is how it has always been, or how it should be.  We don't hold back the goodness inviting us to share with one who is hurt.  We want to be the Samaritan in the story.  We scoff at the priest & the Levite.  We exclaim, "We will not be like them."  

You friends, have been the Samaritan to me.  You friends have been the Jesus I have always loved.  

New mercies await me this morning.  There are jobs to be done, and each day requires new mercies to get through it.  This life we are given is a truly blessed one, but it doesn't quite feel so at times, does it?  Apathy stirs in our heart and we hold it secret.  Do we hold it secret in fear of what others think?  Do we hold it secret in fear of what might come of the trenches when we speak them?  

This morning, I know this.  I am not to keep silent those fears.  We are not to keep silent those fears.  Secrecy leads to an eternal solitary party that even God the party maker cannot join.  When I let those fears be known, it's an invitation to a party that God is throwing for me, for you, for all of us.

You've opened my ears so I can listen.

So I answered, "I'm coming.  I read in your letter what you wrote about me,

And I'm coming to the party you're throwing me."

That's when God's Word entered my life, became part of my very being. (The Message Ps 40)

God wants to throw me a party.  He wants me to delight in his good gifts, because he really is the best gift giver.  

I baked homemade blueberry scones this morning for my family.  Do you know my main motivation?  To see the delight in my girls eyes and intonation in their voice when they come to the table to see the gift.  It fills me.  Yesterday, I came to my knees broken, holding out the secrets of my inards towards God, towards you and the party planning began.  

The good Father smiling and giving a nod.  He breathed his Spirit in you to bring me presents.  And I know he is on the move making preparations for this new season for me and this little one who will be one of my best three gifts I've been priviledged to see to completion.  

Godspeed to you!

Finding Joy in Meal Preparation

The first part was written two years ago when my oldest was just beginning physical therapy for her sensory processing, low muscle tone & gross motor delays.  Worry overcame and this is me reminding myself to live mindful in the present.  

My heart is filled with joy when I see my little girl accomplish tasks that other children her age do seamlessly.

Her tiered dress

burgundy, orange, green

tendrils of locks spun up high

excitement permeates limb to limb

trusting & loving

concern for her sister asleep at home

squinty eyes, bright eyes

teeth grinning

 

What do I know right now about my V?  What do I know right now about my Tay?  

Mindfulness--being content with this moment.  My current happiness isn't dependent upon what will happen tomorrow, or next week.  Rather....

...it's the smells--sight--taste--sound--touch

************

When I stand at my small kitchen counter, with black cutting board & chef knife in hand, I get an opportunity to be mindful.  I have but one task (or two when interacting with two girls), which is to slice the onion in half for preparation.  Preparation for a medium chop and add to a hot pot.  Wield the carrots into my own culinary Lincoln log mirepoix.  

Garlic scapes diced.  Sauté.  Breathe in the earth in the pot, smells sweet and this is the moment I can thank the Sustainer of life I've been given.

A conversation with one of the girls pursues.  I chop, turn to look her in the eye, ask a question and listen while I chop more.  Sharing life in the preparation.

The meat is added and browns just so.  Eyeing while I stir and glancing to the imagination billowing out from the girls.  Eyeing the clock before the man bear comes home.  

Cooking creates pauses.  Pauses for melt downs.  Pauses for teaching.  Pauses for overcooked veggies while teaching how loving, sweet words are essential to the other sister.  Meal preparation can be a chore, but there is so much joy in the sensory explosion.  Curving the fingers just so while cutting.  Spices melding with fragrance.  Simmering of water bubbling.  Taste buds awakening to a bit more salt, a splash of red wine vinegar. 

The joy is found again at the table in the saying of thanks.  Chatter & live demonstration of swimming lessons from early that morning.  Two girls under five speaking gratitude, "Mama, this is a good dinner!"  Every plate empty, while bellies are nourished.  How can I not find joy in that preparing of food?  To know I've been given a moment in time to relish in the mindfulness of now.  As Jesus said on the mount, 

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

It's in these moments where we breathe in the gift of the present, and allow perfect love to cast out the fears of tomorrow.  It's why I find joy in meal preparation.