Today found me weeping over a TED Talk. Standing in the kitchen over a half-eaten plate of black bean nachos, I scrambled to find a pen and paper. The words packed into that six minute talk reminded me of important truths buried deep under several months of aches, mine and others.
I am enough.
I can live with joy and gratitude.
I can love with my whole heart knowing there is no guarantee.
And my heart answered, yes!
Because Jesus.
Somehow, over the last three months, I’ve managed to pick up burdens…unrelenting illness, a series of “no’s,” deep disappointments, disconnectedness, a friends’ unspeakable loss. Somehow, I forgot that burdens are not supposed to be heavy. Somehow, I forgot that we cast our burdens down, we don’t pick them up.
In that forgetting, the cute small town neighborhood we live in, the one that will one day be lined with trees, tall and beautiful --- that neighborhood became a prison. The sound of the birds singing in the wetland that borders our yard became tiny slaps in the face. And the job I do have right now, the one where I kiss small faces, feed small mouths, speak words of encouragement into small hearts as the people they are attached to clamber out of the car each morning --- yes, this job, this treasure became a drudgery.
It’s amazing how quickly we can take on burdens and numb ourselves to the places where we feel God’s pleasure. It’s amazing how quickly we can become...discontent. And it affects everything.
I do not believe that where we are has to be enough. I believe in longing and looking for more. But I also know the obvious. When longing turns to discontent, when looking turns to bitterness, the important moments of the present are lost. And these are the moments that grow longings into next steps on this journey we are taking.
The words that have been a steady presence this month (there are so many reasons to volunteer in a kids’ ministry) pluck at my heart.
I have learned the secret to being content no matter what happens (Philippians 4:12).
I do know the “secret,” as Paul calls it, but I seem to find myself once again in remedial. Oh, well. As the Russians say, "Повторе́ние -- мать уче́нья." Indeed, in every part of my life repetition does seem to be the mother of learning.
My Step
I am walking each morning making room for gratitude, letting the waking sounds of tiny birds sing harmony into my soul instead of the dissonance of the past months.
I am laying down burdens each night, literally one rock at a time in a little bowl on the dining room table. There is One who is able to sustain if we only cast our burdens upon Him (Psalm 55:22).
In the in between times, I am waiting. There is rest here even in this remedial course, and I am determined to see it, to accept it…gift from the Father’s hand.
Join Me?