i leave the windows open to let fall sneak in.
and it was on an evening that was already dark this past weekend that i heard the laughter out front of our house, filling our bedroom, filling the living room, filling every nook and cranny it seemed...
curiosity got the better of me and i peeked out from behind the curtains to see the cause when i saw it.
nothing funny or absurd - something rather plain actually, but a family wrapping coloured lights round and round a post and just enjoying being together.
i caught that glimpse of them as they finished up and stepped back to admire their handiwork - backs were slapped and hugs were shared and some went one way and others went inside,
but i kept standing there.
it's amazing to me, how in the dark of the night a light can draw one's gaze and hold it captive.
he chased our van last week - that little boy who wants a new identity. the one who told me what he wished his name was and then asked to come home with us. i knelt down in front of him, looked into those old eyes in that young, sweet face and had to tell him no.
but he kept pleading and i had to close the door on brokenness.
he chased me as far as his little legs would carry him and i wanted to stop that van and make everything better. i wanted to make what was shattered in his world, whole.
i wanted to fight the pain inside.
i had to leave early on a different day, and the one whose name is full of promise asked me why we had to go...couldn't we just stay 5 more minutes? i wrapped my arm around her shoulders and told her i couldn't, that we were already late, but i would be back the next day and she could come and sit with me then. i heard her go up to tony as i buckled my little boy in...
she asked if she could go home with us too.
she didn't chase the van,
but she watched us with her eyes and why does there have to be so much pain and so much hurt?
he whispers in the dark to me of that young man who carries school and work on his shoulders, the young man who finally grew strong enough to fight back and stop the beatings of his mother, his siblings...
himself.
the one who has a wicked sense of humor and a quiet steadiness and is now the sole provider for the family he is a part of.
and it can easily overwhelm.
i didn't expect to love the children who come there as much as i do - i thought i would care, yes, but heart-expanding, aching love?
no...
smiling faces can hide so much, but it's always the eyes that give the pain away.
and He asks us to go into the dark places, the places void of Him. He asks us to trust Him and to do the hard thing and to believe that He will carry us each step of the way.
it's the only way i can go back everyday, to stand beside tony and bring our Father's Love.
the only way...
and my twinkly lights may still be packed away, but He doesn't need them anyways...
because the True Light is His Son and the current to bring His Glory, the Holy into the forgotten and despised areas is your heart and mine.
so we stand in faith, and we surround the children He brings to us with the Light of His Love...
choosing to see Him in all of this dark...
1511. wide awake at 4:30am
1512. quiet hours before the day starts
1513. moments alone with Jesus
1514. that this small one inside is a girl
1515. watching her wiggle
1516. tony's grace
1517. tears in the park
1518. that he's home for the day
1519. that staff we miss
1520. a long awaited cup of coffee
1521. canadian geese flying overhead
1522. their song of home
1523. longing for the ocean
1524. mornings that are crisp and cool
1525. this amazing dog at my feet
1526. that He gives strength to a weary mama
1527. a kitchen mess easily cleaned up
1528. little girls who still need a mama's help
1529. the quiet of a sunday afternoon
1530. flower-glory
1531. the family He makes
1532. baby kicks
1533. the way elias absentmindedly plays with my hair
1534. kisses before work
1535 mornings and their early quiet
1536. watching my girls learn to read
