tiny me

take a long sip of hot tea.


and swallow,  closing eyes.

respite for the heart can take many forms.

this morning it is a polka-dotted pencil skirt, acceptance of things i can’t do anything about, and vanilla rooibos.

prayer sometimes looks passive.  to the foolish it looks like laying down your arms and heading straight out of the battle in fear, cowering in the caves to “pray.”

this is how heaven sees prayer:  tiny david taking the stone and sling in confidence.  that investment in the smallest cool stone matched with surrender and full knowledge of Father’s power SLAYS THE MOST FEARED ENEMIES.

it is the tiny boy saying in response to the hungry thousands, “Well, I have this lunch my mom packed me.  Jesus, you can take my lunch!”  huffs and sarcastic chuckles may have come from those few who witnessed the very normal-looking transaction and did not know the potential of small things surrendered and matched with Jesus’ power.

do not fear seeming normal.  do not fear seeming small and even insignificant to this world.  Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.  Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

it is our great privilege and our great sword to take our tiny things and offer them in prayer.  Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven!


small, quiet

In the wake of a high and bright Independence Day vacation, the week that followed was long and barren, covered in a misleading thunder cloud.  Day after day, there it was, beautiful and threatening without the fulfillment of a silencing, engulfing storm.  I wanted my breath to be taken away, I wanted to look out and be scared, to be in fear.  Instead I just felt taunted, like the sky knew my feelings and wanted to mirror them back to me, jeering “Look at what’s in you!” Monday through Saturday.  Not one day or hour of sunlight in between.

Every corner I turn in myself, I am faced with a familiar band of misfits –  Comparison, Jealousy, Self-consciousness, and Proving.  Right next to me, walking beside me, is Peace.  What I really get exhausted by is having to constantly make decisions about my thinking, my feelings, and my behavior.  I cannot be trusted to auto-pilot walking around the labyrinths of my heart, the gardens of the day to day in me.  I am in constant need.

Do you think, over time, that I can fully surrender to being piloted by someone other than myself?

My eyes and ears always covered, and hands guiding me wherever I go, gently pulling me along, would I find joy in knowing the extent of my need with every step and turn, because of my complete dependence on Peace?  It is choosing to be stupid to surroundings.  Choosing to be blind and deaf and unknowing of the next steps and turns.  It is completely opposite of what I almost narcissistically prefer.  Control.  I hate not knowing my bearings.  I hate not understanding where I am and making decisions for myself.

One option is exhausting and scary, and one is just scary.  But probably, eventually, miraculously, my not having eyes or ears will become having those of a different kind.

On Saturday the same storm cloud was present, and finally, it rained.  I sat like a little girl, hands crossed over my chest, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the couch, desperate to hold on to my sour attitude.

On Sunday, I walked into church, wet hair, leftover anger (what I have dubbed the “angover”), and I surrendered to Peace.  Melting, letting go, putting things in their place (ie: not with me) felt like a hot, steaming shower in the dead of winter.  I love my little white flag.  It makes my life a monument to something other than myself.