Remembering How to Cry

I was helping out today in the nursery at church, playing with Abby, one of the cutest little girls. She's a little more than a year old, and although she's quite young, my mom has been telling me that she's one of the more independent babies. While most of the babies in the nursery tend to cry and need constant attention, Abby is fine on her own, playing by herself.

Until till today that is.

I was sitting there holding her (as I had been for the past nearly 20 minutes) today, when suddenly out of nowhere she starts crying. At first we thought it was because she needed to changer her diaper, or she was hungry or something. However the real reason was quite simple; she was tired and wanted her mom.

After holding her for a while and trying to calm her down, she eventually went to sleep, which is where she stayed until the end of the service.

Abby reminded me of something very important today. She reminded me that I need to remember how to cry. We all do. It's strange that we start out as needy children, crying about every little thing, and knowing that our parents will respond to us. Yet somehow as we grow older it becomes more difficult for us to cry, and when we do, you know your in for a big flood. We start to feel as though crying is something we aren't supposed to do. That we've learned enough about grief and pain that we should be experts at how to react and recover. But it's such a lie to ourselves.

In Matthew, Jesus is approached by his disciples, who ask the question of who will enter the kingdom of God.

"At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. " - Matthew 18:1-4

Jesus tells them to be like children, like Abby, in order to do so. He doesn't tell us to be the most independent, the strongest emotionally or physically. He doesn't tell us to have the most money, or be the smartest. Instead he tells us to be vulnerable, needy, physically weak, lacking money or intelligence.

As I was trying to calm Abby down today, it struck me that the sound of her cry wasn't just a noise. There was passion, emotion, complete trust, and vulnerability in her cry. She was crying out for her mother, the one person she knew who would never leave her. And when her mom didn't come, she kept crying and crying and crying. She had no doubt that eventually her cries would be heard, she had completely faith that her mom would come.

And it was that sound of her cry that shook me and put tears in my eyes. To be able to cry out to God, my Father who will never leave me. To not be afraid to let myself wail, to scream out my brokenness to someone who understands better than anyone else. And to know that my cries will be heard and that someone will come to my aid.

I was reminded today that its more than okay to cry. In fact God welcomes it, because he knows that when we cry it means we have nowhere to turn but him. And its funny how it took a child, who doesn't even know the impact of her tears, to teach me such a humbling lesson.

Free Refills

You ever have those moments? The ones where one moment you feel absolutely selfish, down, disconnected from God and people, unsure, confused, and conflicted all at the same time?

And then God does something amazing, it can be big or little, and it warms your heart. It fills you up to the brim again, and whatever was lacking before is no longer lacking.

It happened tonight. =)

I feel like I just drank a cup of hot cocoa, hot apple cider, hot milk tea, whatever is your winter beverage of choice. You start out cold and distant, and slowly the liquid pours into your body, warms you to your toes, and the frost begins to melt.

Mmmmm...........thank God.

Coming home for break always brings about time for pondering, interacting, and remembering. Pondering the point of your life you currently find yourself in, as well as dreaming of the future. Interacting with the people you haven't seen for a while. Remembering past times, and looking at the progression of how you've grown.

Tonight I was encouraged by my heart to heart sisters, and how no matter how far we move away, somehow the bond between us never dies. I never realized how in sync we were to the sound of each others hearts until tonight. And I never valued it as much until tonight.

I was encouraged by my brothers, one spiritual, one real, and their passion to take up the cross. Their desire to be a man after God's own heart, to be strong and courageous, taking up their sword to fight on the side of the Almighty.

As we sat in the car, praying together at midnight, I felt the warmth return to my toes. The hot cocoa had done its trick, and my previously empty soul was renewed by the words of two humble men in a parked car on a rundown driveway.

Thank you God for always providing free refills when needed.

Daddy Save the World

Daddy Save the World.

Be the superhero I know you to be. The one who comes down with flashing lights, a thunderous voice, and instantly the oceans and animals fall silent. Amazed at the magnificance of your power. Our world is in desparate need of a hero. I don't care how you come down, as Superman, Iron Man, X-Man or otherwise. But come down and save us from the destruction that us humans have created. The hellfire of gunshots and poverty that plague our cities, the burning remains of broken hearts, the lackluster smiles that used to hold such joy. Save us from ourselves.

And I know that I'm not even one to ask of such a lofty request, when my own actions have shown a lack of trust, a doubtful mind, and an apathetic heart.

But here I stand again, kneeling on the floor in front of you, with all of my control being offered to you. These attackes in Mumbai, show that nothing is permanent, nothing except you. Nothing is sacred, nothing is whole. All is broken, and yet you choose to come heal the broken. And not just one broken mess but every single one on this earth, from the shooting terrorist, to the innocent child.

You have chosen to redeem.

And on Thanksgiving I'm thankful that no matter how far I stray you redeem me, because I'm already chosen. And nothing changes that. Nothing at all.

Thanks.

Sisterhood

Might be a short post, but I thank God for sisterhood.

The giggles, the smiles, the crazy stories, and the bonding.

I'm smiling right now, and I know that He must be too.

Each different, but each passionate.

=)

Good Morning Dear Brother!

Bus, Bible, Black guy.

I meant to write this a while ago, but now I can't exactly remember what happened. But since its happened more than once, I'd like to remind future self that God is always awake, you just have to be on the lookout.

Waiting

This was taken from CK's blog, but I really liked it. =)

From Daily Bread - November 7, 2008.

Make haste to help me, O Lord!” the psalmist David prayed (Ps. 70:1). Like him, we don’t like to wait. We dislike the long lines at super-market checkout counters, and the traffic jams downtown and around shopping malls. We hate to wait at the bank or at a restaurant.

And then there are the harder waits: a childless couple waiting for a child; a single person waiting for marriage; an addict waiting for deliverance; a spouse waiting for a kind and gentle word; a worried patient waiting for a diagnosis from a doctor.

What we wait for, however, is far less important than what God is doing while we wait. In such times He works in us to develop those hard-to-achieve spiritual virtues of meekness, kindness, and patience with others. But more important, we learn to lean on God alone and to “rejoice and be glad” in Him (v.4).

F. B. Meyer said, “What a chapter might be written of God’s delays! It is the mystery of the art of educating human spirits to the finest temper of which they are capable. What searchings of heart, what analyzings of motives, what testings of the Word of God, what upliftings of soul. . . . All these are associated with those weary days of waiting, which are, nevertheless, big with spiritual destiny.”  — David H. Roper

Memories

Memories.

I read an article for one of my classes this year in which it talks about how we constantly turn back to our memories, to our past. It discusses the affect which the past has upon us, and that we are then shaped by the memories we have, and whether or not we can move forward from them or remain so intrenched in them that we cannot get out of them.

These past couple of months have been a trip down memory lane. In every way possible I have been afflicted through the meanings and the moments that have affected myself to the core of my being. The influences of people, the heartbreaks, the lows and the highs, and the peaceful existence of my soul so covered by the love of a Savior. Many of the memories are as vivid as yesterday afternoon, a song that repeats itself over and over.

Reflections.

Thinking about these memories lead to reflections of where I've been and how far I've come. Specifically with my relationships, I look at how much I have learned, how hard the struggles have been, and how much redemption God puts into my life, and my heart. Forgiveness, reconciliation, and trust. Perhaps the biggest themes of the last months. Oh and peace. Peace beyond words, beyond wisdom and understanding. Not that there aren't moments when the sea does rise, but instead of swimming I'm floating on top, cruising along untouched by the tide.

I was looking at some pictures of a past memory today, and it made me smile. And I think its the first time I've been able to do that. That memory, which produced both good things and bad, made me smile. To know that I am also a memory, and a good one, was reassuring.

Pictures capture our memories so that we can relive them, but sometimes it makes it harder to leave them. But not today. Instead today it brought a smile, and a sense of hope. Hope in knowing that there was just as much good in that memory as bad. Hope in being thankful for a memory that changed my character. I was able to relive that memory, free from the connections of the hurt and pain. And I was even able to find joy in what will be the potential of many new memories, and many good times.

And while that current memory may not be my own, to know that it exists in the life of someone else brings me peace. To see such happiness, well it made me happy.

And really, memories come and fade. They hinder us and help us, break us down and build us up. But when the peace of God transcends the emotional connections of memories that bring us to tears, it creates smiles.

Sweet peace, new hope, heart full.