Breathe

Today the sun is shining and the birds are singing. I marvel at the beauty of it and of how it fills my soul. I treasure the warmth of the sun. I treasure it even moreso because I do not experience this every day. There is no promise of a beautiful tomorrow, so I will treasure today…this moment.

I breathe deeply. I stop and look around. I notice. I wonder. I open myself up to the possibility that there is more, so much gloriously more available. There is so much more going on around me than my eyes tend to see. I take a moment to listen for a whisper that is not my own.

I make my heart available…to hear, to believe, to receive. I breathe in. I breathe out. I wait for the whisper. I expect more. There is so much more.

M

I watched my friend get into her vehicle this morning. Many feelings went through my head and heart. The rain is falling. My friend's parents are with her. I am out walking my dog. These parents are getting into the car to go to another chemotherapy treatment for their daughter's brain cancer. I am walking my dog. The rain is falling. Day in, day out, I walk my dog. Some days the rain falls. And my friends' parents get in a car with her to go to a chemotherapy treatment. This is a normal day. This is not a normal day. There are mundane tasks going on…repetitive ones. There are immensely difficult tasks being put into place. If I were the parent, I'd be tempted to put my child on a plane to some tropical island and pretend nothing was wrong. On some level, however, I'd know that we'd be missing some very important part of a plan that has been put into place by doctors to help my child fight a nasty disease. (Please, God, why? Why do I have to face this? Please take this away. Lord, I CAN'T DO THIS!! I truly cannot do this. I do not have the strength.) I walk my dog and feel as if I should not be having a "normal" day when my friends are not having a normal day. I feel helpless, until I remember that I have been and will continue to storm heaven on her behalf. There are no promises or guarantees of healing, but yet God tells us to bring the sick to him, and anoint them with oil. He tells us to have faith, to believe. He says it is not "if" he can heal. He says that He can heal. (God, I come to you as a little child because you instruct me to. I cry out for healing because you tell me to. I've seen you heal miraculously. You are the SAME GOD who healed yesterday. You've even healed my father, my son, me, others I know. You are the GREAT PHYSICIAN. You love my friend more than I can comprehend. You love her even more than her parents do! You have her, even in this. You have her.)

When my first baby was born and in intensive care for 3 months, I remember visiting him and not being able to touch him. I had to sit and look in on him from a safe distance, not stimulating him for fear he would lose weight. After all, how much weight can a 1 lb. 12 oz. baby lose and still continue to exist as a living human being? I wanted to fix him and couldn't. People all over the United States were praying for his life. Slowly, with many ups and downs along the way, he improved and healed. During his hospital stay, I remember leaving the hospital and walking outside to "real life" again. I remember looking around and being amazed that normal life was still occurring. How was that even possible? I was sure that the world had completely stopped. How could parents be laughing with children? Didn't they know my baby was inside the hospital fighting for his life? How could a parent have a baby "in their possession"? It truly was not fair. I envied those who could hold and cuddle their child, offering love and warmth to them as they grew. I was secretly angry that life was continuing for others while mine felt like it had come to a crazy standstill. I wondered when the waiting would end.

As I see others struggling, I wonder how often they have moments of looking out the window at the lady walking her dog or at the parents with children in their stroller and wonder how normal life can still go on. I wonder how often they just long to be the one doing the mundane, walking their dog, day in and day out. There is much here in this life that I do not understand. There is much that breaks my heart and even sickens me. When I stay here and keep my eyes on these things--the hardships, the uncertainties, the seemingly impossible situations, the downright horrendous scenarios in the world--I begin to doubt. I begin to see with glasses that have been tainted by the film of dirt the world can leave behind. When I'm just about to give up, and when my vision is all but blinded, the still small voice inside reminds me that this world is not all there is. This world is not all there is. This world is NOT all there is! This is a fallen world. The scriptures make it as plain as can be. Jesus says, "In this world, YOU WILL HAVE TROUBLE." Wow! But that is not all. He goes on to say, "But take heart! I have overcome the world." YES! It is not easy, but I lay down my ideas of what healing looks like. I lay down my pleas of desperation and attempts to make outcomes all that I long for them to be, and I lean on the strong and unshakeable shoulders of a God who is so much bigger than I can comprehend. My inability to see the outcomes does not change his sovereignty. If I could see the end and control it, why would I need God? I will not bring him to my level and doubt his existence because I do not understand all of His ways. One day, heaven will be restored on earth and all pain and sorrow will pass away. Until that day, I lean my head on His enormous shoulder, and I ask Him how I should pray. I still cry out for healing. I still pray for the miraculous. And I lean on His shoulder, take His hand and look into His eyes. My heart begins to change. My fear turns to peace and rest. My perspective turns heavenward. Peace is restored. Peace is available. Yes, Lord…all the time, You are good. There is still much I do not understand. There are still so many things beyond my control. I, however, am changed in the midst of it all. My prayer becomes, "Lord, please take my hand and help me hobble through, tiny step, by tiny step. Better yet, let me stand on your feet like a small child dancing with her father throughout a magnificent ballroom. Take the full weight of my burdens as I lean my body fully against Yours. I cannot stand on my own. Keep me upright, Lord. Send your angels, Lord. Show us Your power and glory. Walk among us. Give us your strength, because we do not have enough on our own to make it through. Amen.

Song of the King

When doing my morning devotions, I read a line in Sarah Young's Jesus Calling book. The book speaks from the perspective of Jesus, taking Biblical truths and putting them into a conversation from Jesus to us. Today it said, "Tune out other voices so that you can hear Me more clearly." I thought about the number of voices that come at me in a day. Some are loud and demanding, some softer but still present. Not all are voices from others but many are demands pressing on me and expectations I feel that need to be met for various reasons. It could be as simple as a voice saying, "I need to do the laundry today. It is stacking up." The more busy my life is, the more crowded the voices get. I long to hear the still, small voice of my Savior--the voice of peace, the only voice that takes me above all the chaos and negativity swirling around me. His voice takes me to a beautiful place where I see the hope of glory, a day where I will spend eternity with my Jesus. He reminds me that I'm never alone. He shows me what is most important. He gently takes my hand and opens my clenched fist, allowing many things of lesser importance to be loosened and to fall away. In this comes a sense of peace, a sense of knowing that I am on the right path. The strength I need to do the most important tasks is given.

This all brought to mind a book that a friend gave me a number of years ago. It is a children's book by Max Lucado, entitled "The Song of the King." In it, three knights are competing for the hand of the King's daughter in marriage. The one who could navigate their way through the dangerous Hemlock forest and reach the other side would win her hand. There were many trials and distractions in the forest. Three times a day the King would play a song on his flute. The knights were to follow the sound of the flute back to the castle where they would find the Princess. Within the forest there were many competing voices and imitating flutes. It was easy to hear the wrong flute and get turned around. One knight successfully makes his way through the forest. All the town's people want to know what his secret was. He reveals that when given the option to choose one companion to accompany him on his journey, he chose the King's own son, the only other to have the same flute as his father and who knew how to play his father's song. The knight simply stayed close to the son and listened to the song again and again. He learned the "Song of the King" and was therefore not swayed by the imitators. In the end, he made his way safely through the treacherous forest and was the victor.

This story is a great reminder for me to intentionally choose a wise companion on this earth. I want to fill my head and heart with the Song of the King alone. All else can fall away and will not be missed. If it is not from the King, I am happy to let it fall away. As Mary sat at Jesus' feet listening, Jesus said, "Mary has found the most important thing. I will not take that away from her." She knew the song of the King.