I’ve had a bit of a rude awakening. I sort of expected parenting to be an 18 year state of “comatose”–where you come up for air afterward and assess who you were then and what all those years were all about. I’ve expected to put all of the self-reflection on the shelf, or at the very least be comfortable with bite-size bits of that. Maybe its because of all the moms I hear talking about the end of their lives, the slow burn, that started when they conceived. I subconsciously assented.
But God has shown me otherwise.
He has decided that now, in the midst of grieving for my father and going from a family of 2 (where sometimes just one of those two took himself to the potty and brushed his own teeth) to a family of 4 where I’m now responsible for the vast majority of potty trips, hand washes, and tooth brushes, that I would face my own personal awakening.
I suppose for God (who wants to forever reveal that He is all-in-all), a daughter who is having difficulty brushing her own teeth in a day is a prime suspect for a spiritual makeover. Except this time, the theme is that God didn’t come to make me a better version of me, but to make me fall giddy in love with Him.
Even as I type my mind is telling me “but make sure they know that you knew before about His love …. you just didn’t know it that well.” And He silences those thoughts.
Because self-justification crumbles before God. And He knows my every thought. And if I really want to live and breathe the kind of radical life commitment and love for Jesus that I have been asking for … pleading for … I’ve got to let go. I need to set aside my own personal portfolio that I’m constantly wanting to review and revise before God, and just scoot up next to Him. And sit.
And reflect. And remember. And listen. And wait. And receive. And all those things that mothers of toddlers are never supposed to be able to find the time to do.
But when you have an encounter with the God of the universe who gives you fairly particular orders (to enjoy Him, to let myself be enjoyed by Him)– you figure out how to do it.
So here I am on what feels like the rainiest day of the year both on the outside and inside, sitting. Waiting. Listening.
Expecting to receive.
And while I’m here I wonder why the heck it’s taken me so long to come back to this part of the mountain.
Because being in love is a pretty sweet thing.
In fact you just can’t beat being “giddy in love” (in quotes, because that’s the phrase that I’ve sensed from Him …for not just me but for many, many others …maybe you?). Especially when the only requirement is to receive — to sit back and take it in. I’m pretty excited that that’s where He wants me. Of course my provisional mind says, only for a season God. We’ll see how this works and then I promise I’ll go back to pushing really hard. But when I get a moment of clarity, I suspect I’ll see that a day sitting under these rays will set me leap-years closer to where I really want to be, than will a lifetime of the other stuff.
The scary thing is that when I’m in a place like this, I get crazy ideas about saying what I really think and following Him in a way that some won’t find attractive and … taking in more orphans than my house can hold.
Anything is possible for a woman in love.
And I guess these days that’s what I am. Or at least I’m coming here, showing up at the spiritual spa, prepared to eventually become that bride. All I’ve been asked to do is sit back and take in all He wants to pour out.
Not so bad.
Wanna join me?