He promised at the beginning of this past year to do something new and He has...He has done so. much.
but i enter into the last evening of 2012 still expecting,
and there are times and moments when it feels as though it will never, ever end.
i just want to see her face.
i want to hold her in my arms and pull her close.
i want my four children to surround me and i want my oldest to know that one more child doesn't make her any less special...
oh, a mama's heart.
it can hurt.
sometimes expectations can do that.
and it was about a week ago, as i was reading about my wild God, the One Who isn't safe and Who calls us out of the places we hide behind that the word for this year came near.
it starts with a small handful of verses, ones i've heard since the time i was small.
they were these:
where can i go from Your Spirit?
where can i flee from Your Presence?
if i go up to the heavens, You are there;
if i make my bed in the depths, You are there.
if i rise on the wings of the dawn,
if i settle on the far side of the sea,
even there Your Hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
in the book, practicing the presence of God, the author writes this,
brother lawrence insisted that it is necessary to always be aware of
God's presence by talking with Him through the day. to think that you must abandon
conversation with Him in order to deal with the world is erroneous.
instead, as we nourish our souls by seeing God in His exaltation,
we will derive a great joy at being His.
this last month has found me wrestling with fears. fears of becoming a mama to four, fears of homeschooling with a newborn while we try and find our footing as a family of six. fears that the house will fall apart, that i will fall apart and how will everything get done?
And Jesus is here, always here, but i can so easily forget that when i take my eyes off of Him.
i live in a state of expecting as i wait to meet my baby, i place huge expectations on myself that i have no hope of fulfilling, i live with the knowing that no matter what i do,
i. will. fail.
but it's there, in the book of Colossians that i find my footing once again:
whatever you do, work heartily for the Lord and not for men.
and then this:
our lives should be lived with expectancy. not necessarily with expectation,
because expectation tends to dictate terms. the pharisees
lived with expectation and rejected Christ when He did not fit
the rigid narrowness of their expectations. often i wonder if we, waiting for
Christ's return do it more with expectation that expectancy. expectancy is the belief
that God will do something. expectation insists He do it just. this. way. expectation
blinds us to the God who is here right now than outright disbelief does.
but imagine a life buoyed by expectancy, by the conviction that the Lord will
show Himself. how, where, when - we don't know that. we don't dictate the terms...
but by living with biblically girded expectancy, our lives stir to vibrant wakefulness.
your God is too safe
but like my belly swollen and stretched, there is life in the midst of my waiting. as i search for that day when she will show her face, i have hope that the ache and the weariness and the anxiousness will end at some point.
so this year, this year ahead is the year of expectancy - of living in a space of seeing Him. in the mundane and in the grand. of coming to know and embrace that His presence is everywhere, and that my role, whether it be one of teacher, wife, mama, friend...it's all done under His watchful eye and becomes a catalyst to know Him more.
and oh. i want to know Him more...
earth is crammed with heaven
and every common bush afire with God;
but only he who sees takes off his shoes.
the rest sit around it and
elizabeth barrett browning