This Desire

"O LORD, God of our fathers, Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, keep this desire in the hearts of your people forever, and keep their hearts loyal to you."

I Chronicles 29:18

Sitting atop the Mount of Desire,

Ruler and King of all Wants

Is this:

"Keep this desire in the hearts of your people

forever,

And keep their hearts loyal to you."

For when kingdoms fall,

and wealth dissipates,

A mouth with God-words on the tongue

and a heart of God-gratitude

mean everything.

And when supporting posts decay,

crumble and collapse on a banquet of dreams,

It is enough if their eyes are fixed,

their steps unwavering.

And if I were Solomon

and You came and offered one thing,

one,

It would be this,

Keep their hearts,

Yours

Forever.

Avonlea's Song

The baby girl I held

soft and pink against my breast

The little girl who I watched

the rise and fall of her breath

We were so very close

the very air we shared

I held your heart to mine

and they beat into one

You're everything that I wanted

all I dreamed about

your smile and your laughter

turn me inside out

And on those days when I forget

just how precious you really are

God opens my eyes to see

He's given me a star

His light you shine

into my days

as you grow and change

you'll never know all the times

You've shone His grace

I thank you for your patience

your unconditional love

While your mommy

is still growing up

You're everything that I wanted
all I dreamed about
your smile and your laughter
turn me inside out
And on those days when I forget
just how precious you really are
God opens my eyes to see
He's given me a star

So shine my star, shine on

Shine His light my love

Shine my star, shine on

Your His precious child

So shine my star, shine on.....

Faith

"It is by grace you have been saved through faith..." (Eph. 2:8)

His grace, our faith, fingers entwined, arms swinging in joy.

Joy is the offspring of a faith/grace union.

I've been walking this Holy week reverently.
Treading lightly.
(Which was well because there were raisins on the stairs today.)

I've been quiet.

Because really, I have no words to say....

To thank Him enough.

Roses in Green Pastures

As we drove away from the church on Sunday, I asked Rose a simple question. "How was Sunday School Posy?" She replied with an answer that gave me an instant headache. "Okay. I didn't hit anyone." Pause. "I shoulda hit someone." So she reigned herself in, and this is progress. A few weeks ago, on her way to a friend's house, I told her to behave herself and be polite. She replied, "I know mama. I won't bite or hit or slap or pinch or scream or call her fat." Sigh.

And this is my Rose. You lean close anticipating a sweet fragrance, and you get it, just not before a thorn or two are lodged in your epidermis.

(birthday morning hugs)

When Dave and I were dating he asked me what my favorite age of child was. I answered without hesitation, "three." I love the age three. I love the big eyed wonder and whimsy, the creativity, the hilarious misuse of words. Today my last three year old turns four. (Emphasis mine, all mine). I know that the days of her beating up her peers are limited. I know that her lisp will probably fade ("Yeth mom." "Thure!"). I know that she won't be panting in my face after every single jelly bean so that I can guess the flavor, for much longer. And I will miss it dearly.

She awoke this morning to sibling joy and singing which produced punches in the air by little fists with blue fingernails.

This morning at her birthday breakfast I randomly opened to Psalm 23. It struck a chord and for a moment I could only stare at the page. My dad died on June 23 and I had read that Psalm the morning he left and didn't come home. "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." Somehow in the grief of the month following his death, I got pregnant with Rose. "You anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows..."

Today I thank God for the precious beautiful daughter He gave me amidst my heartache. I thank Him for the fragrance of Christ she has brought to our lives. I thank Him that His promises to me have been Yes and Amen in Christ and that beauty has come from ashes.

I thank God for Rose....

After all, what's a thorn or two in the epidermis?

"Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever."

If Found, Please Return

My children have a lovely piano teacher. Really, truly, a storybook/movie kind of piano teacher. She genuinely loves all of her students. She talks to them. Laughs with them. Accepts them.

She does her job well and with joy, and the blessings drip down and soak our home with music and self discipline.

Avonlea used to ask, when she was little, "I know she's not my grandma, but could she be my aunt, mommy?"

She wanted to belong to her in some way. I don't blame her.

However....our piano teacher does have one very small character blemish.

She likes to gallivant.

She has a son and daughter-in-law and granddaughter that are missionaries in Slovenia (yes, she's the type to woman who raises missionaries, I told you), and she likes to visit them.

For long periods of time.

This in and of itself is not the problem.

The month long break is actually refreshing to the schedule.

The barb here is that she gave the kids their recital music the week before she left.

And it's show tunes.

Singing in the Rain, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and Angel of Music have been pounding through my home (and might I mention my temples) for several weeks now.

And there are questions.

Such as, "How do you flat an "F". Why wouldn't they just say "E"?"

UMMMMM........(why didn't I take more lessons?)

And..."What do you do when your hands can't stretch as far as the two notes?"

And...several others that I have forgotten because I couldn't hear them over the pounding temples.

So....if you happen to be in Slovenia or Italy or Austria and you see a beautiful, graceful, Italian looking lady wearing shiny jewelry and flip flops, please send her home.

Because we miss her.

And her niece and nephew need her.

And because I don't drink, but I'm thinking about starting.

And because Rowan doesn't quite pronounce "Chitty Chitty" right when singing along.

Sometimes I remember...

Sometimes I remember.

I remember that I am a continuation of someone.

The source of the spring called "me" began long ago and far away.

I look at the place I occupy now and find it absorbing and it somehow nullifies the past by it's "nowness".

I have always been a wife, mother, teacher.

I have taught ballet at Friday School forever.

I can't recall how it felt to cook with gluten.

That's not the truth.

But I forget it's not the truth.

Tonight as I looked out the window to the balcony I caught a reflection.

It was a reflection of our bedroom.

Over our bed hung a sun and moon mask from Venice.

It's a symbol of dusk.

The calm luminiousness of the moon uniting with the blazing passion of the sun to form a union of moderation; peace.

I used to expand on this theme, every relationship had a dusk, I believed. The passion of personalities finding a safe haven of acceptance. The melding of spirits to produce beauty. The Venn Diagram of life.

I discovered all this while running around Europe.

I was in those days much more the beaming sun than the subtle moon.

I was impulsive and a little, well....wild.

But I was not finished.

God has worked and whispered and sustained and I am changed.

I lived today on fast forward. My full concentration was in the moment and the next moment, I did not once look over my shoulder, until tonight....

When I caught a reflection of the sun and moon that have given theme to my life.

Then I remembered.

I remembered that I am a continuation of someone.

And I am still going...

And this is good....

Because I'm still a little wild.

Holes

One of my first memories of a place, outside of my childhood home, is of my dance school.

I suppose the ballet room was fairly typical. One fully mirrored wall, barres on the other three walls, resin box in the corner, and a piano. But my first dance school boasted something that none of the following ones did, a wall of holes.

The idea was that a parent could watch their child without the child knowing it and therefore without being distracted. So, the studio directors cut out eye-sized holes all over the wall of the parent's waiting room. There were up high holes for tall daddies and medium height holes for mommys and a variety of lower holes for siblings. There were benches to help if you couldn't find quite the right height of hole.

Coming into the waiting room the first time I saw what looked like a bunch of people standing with their faces pressed to the wall. This was weird. Later, I was in my first class and I happened to glance at the wall, and I saw that it was covered in random eyes. This was terrifying. I have an older brother, so even at that tender age I knew all about cyclops. I was being watched by an army of them. I was paralysed with fear.

This week Grant had a scary experience for a child. The result was nightmares.

I held his hot shaking body on my lap and said, "Tell me a true thing Grant."

"God loves me."

"That is truth. What else?"

"He's always with me."

"Yes."

"Mommy loves me. Daddy loves me."

"That is true Grant. Keep them coming."

He comforted himself with truth and went back to bed.

The next night he came down again. He couldn't fall asleep, his mind raced with fearful thoughts.

I held out my arms and said, "Tell me a true thing Grant."

I waited for the truth that comforts, the truth that soothes, it didn't come.

Instead he looked me in the eye and said, "Mommy sometimes true things aren't happy things."

I stared at him in surprise.

He was absolutely right.

Truth isn't always happy.

Truth isn't always comforting.

My mind suddenly brought forward an array of truths that were anything but soothing.

They stared at me, a wall of cyclops eyes that followed my every move.

I sent Grant to bed and sat there in confusion.

If truth terrifies, what is there to trust?

And then I thought of the Truth who became man and taught us, "You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."

The truth is that there is nothing to fear because the worst has already happened. Jesus was crucified. Death devoured Him instead of us. He submitted, He conquered, and He saved us.

The truth is that the Truth of Christ is so much more true than any fear we can imagine.

There are days, weeks, months, when the evil in this world winks at me through peep holes. When I see the sinful choices, unhealthy indulgences, and manifold consequences to myself and those I love, and I am paralysed. But I do what I did when I was a skinny thing in pink tights;

I remember the truth.

I experience the freedom from fear.

And I dance.