when you find yourself breaking open...

it's first thing,

while everyone is waking up with heads and hair all fuzzy.

when we bump into each other unintentionally and some laugh

and some snarl.


it's in that moment, one of the first of our day, that i look up and see...

the way the morning light catches me off guard and sends me searching.


and i find it's starting point

and watch it wrap around this kitchen...

from a high place up on that wall

right down to the the quiet edges laid low.

and i think how He wraps my days in His Light.

how His beauty catches me off guard...


and then i find myself breaking open.


first in humiliation as i find myself holding a thrashing child caught up in a tantrum nothing can tame.

she roils wildly against me, screams so loud and i feel so exposed, as though all my parenting sins are laid bare for all to see.

i want to crawl under the nearest rock,

anything to get me away from the embarrassing spotlight i find myself caught in.


later, i strap us all in as the moon paints the air all blue.

when emotions have settled and a bit of motion is needed to ease the tension that has settled around us all day.

and it's when i hear their sweet voices singing behind me,

singing praises to Jesus that i find myself breaking open again...


because from the time she was tiny, we have been broken, she and i.

broken in ways i have never known how to heal.

she was born into arms limp and heavy with depression and she has been fighting for my heart ever since.


this, i realize, as we drive down that road,

as she sings out that we are the light of the world...


and all she is fighting for is my love.


i read it, somewhere this evening, as i desperately combed through articles and pages and blogs on parenting a child whose will is oh-so-strong.

i read the words that sink deep and break me open just a little bit further...

a child wasn't made for a parent, but a parent is made for a child...to love and to serve and to guide.




where did i forget this along the way?

when did i begin to think that my children were for me?


when did the beginnings; the feedings, the changings, the burpings, the coo-ings...when did those change from delights to drudgeries?

when did i lose the wonder and instead begin to shatter?


we've been broken, she and i.

she has my heart, but does she truly know it?

her actions, when i enter into them instead of trying to quiet them, might reveal what my eyes don't want to see.


my spit-fire child, the one so loud and crazy...is our relationship, all healed up and whole, worth fighting for?

could something new be birthed from out of the ashes of the old?

yes.  oh yes.  a hundred million times yes.

and even here,

even now...

He so gently starts at the highest point and wraps around to the broken hearts laid low.


He wraps us both up in His Light that reveals,

holds us both close with His beautiful Love that heals.

the month of here {day 8}...and the moments i wish i could take back

there are moments that one wishes they could take back.

today held a few of those.


harsh words written down, a send button pushed and cyber space held what i should have kept back.


there are friends who are sisters and sisters who are friends and love binds us close and in the midst of emotion run high, grace was freely given...

but that wound?

left by my own words?

oh.

one can begin to feel so small.


i remember the freedom i felt in coming to him when i did something stupid...the father who declared me, the married-in-one, his own.

when i didn't understand, or i felt confused, or i just needed guidance in knowing how to find that next step.


i found myself sifting through shelves, through boxes...searching for the bits of him we still have here.

wishing i could hear his voice, longing for the wisdom he would have shared so freely.

instead, i held in my hands one of the many volumes that had been cradled in his through the years.


placed the books of an earthly father right up next to the one of my Heavenly One and turned the pages and read.

the ache is still there...

i think sin is like that most times.

eats away at failed and miserable attempts at control gone awry.


but through the grace of my sister, the echo of a father, the way my Jesus restores...

today isn't a lost cause.

not ruined by what i said.

instead it is step marked by mercy that will journey with me into the next.

and i give thanks on this eighth day of this month that finds me here...even when days are marred and misunderstood.

He knows...

but do i?

He knows the depths of my heart, how i long to speak out of the darkness of my sinfulness ~ to cause as much pain as i deem has been inflicted on me.

the want to be vindicated, the showing that i am not as how i have been painted to be.

i read somewhere this evening the truth that if i am more focused on the sins of others, i haven't truly begun to repent.

there is rich truth in this simple yet harsh statement...have i truly come to the place where i am humbled enough to see myself as i truly am?

and who am i?

i am made of dust.

dirt.

clay.

mix tears of hurt and complaint in with all that earth and you are left with a muddy mess.

daily, do i see my true human state?  or do i grab hold of the grace so freely given and blithely wander throughout my minutes ignoring the stains, that harsh word quickly spoken, that hurt feeling that begins to fester into a blister of bitterness...

if i were to be honest (and even if i wasn't, you would know...) i choose the easy cloak of blitheness to wear over repentance every. single. day.

half-mumbled in prayers that are already being invaded by dreams as i drift off, safely cocooned in the warmth of my blankets and His Grace.

do i truly understand the cost of repentance?  could i recognize what repentance looks like - not in the life of the person next to me, but in my own?

He says, in His Holy Word, the sacrifices He finds acceptable are that of a broken and contrite heart.

do i know what that looks like?

i know what my broken heart looks like in the unexpected loss of my father-in-law.

i know what it looks like to watch tony walk through this dark valley with all it's ugly twists and turns.

i know what it looks like to watch all of my hopes and dreams for my life here slowly die.

what it feels like to face the tearing away from friendships that i hold so very dear.

what it looks like to watch my children hurt others and be hurt.

yes ~ my heart has been broken, but has it ever been broken in repentance over hurting my Heavenly Father?  over falling short?

do i find myself caught up in the wonder of the big-ness of His Grace and the horrid, putrid stench of my sin?

no.

sadly, no...

i feel as though my heart has blinders and i wonder, how does one begin to take them down? how do i begin to view my life as it truly is; constantly striving against the ugly stain of sin that constantly mars each of my days?

and yet...

still, still a life covered by the blood of His sacrifice...

i don't ask, rhetoric.  i ask because i truly want to know.

His grace, so vast and all encompassing and my sin, so invasive, so warped...how do i see the depth of each so that i am completely repulsed by one and wholly humbled by the other?

i long to know.  i long to be changed ~ to truly taste and see the goodness of His undeserved Grace and live with the wonder of Him.

i want to live wild with the joy of His love...

i want to know...

oh, be careful little mouth...

or, in my case, big mouth.

i have to be honest, i've struggled with abiding lately.

getting back into the routine of life, being surrounded by friends who listen, being the sole entertainer for my children throughout the day until tony comes home has left me exhausted. frazzled.  grasping for time to just sit and not think.

which turns into sitting zombie-like in front of the tv and/or computer.

which turns into the clock turning midnight and i haven't prayed.  haven't read my bible.  haven't intentionally sought out time alone with Jesus.

and so, when the opportunity came each day for the last two days for me to be in a situation where feedback was requested, i opened my mouth.

i opened my mouth, even when i felt the Holy Spirit repeat over and over to keep my mouth closed.  as in, firmly closed.

granted, i could fall back on the excuse that i wanted to help.  that i cared about all involved and that ultimately, my intentions were good, i really and truly did want to help.

doesn't matter though.  when He wants you to keep your mouth closed so He can speak, one better keep their mouth closed.

and i didn't.

my heart has been broken.  my pride...oh, my pride, has been shattered.  which, in the long run, is probably the outcome Jesus wanted.

when i first moved back here, there were a number of mistakes i wasn't going to repeat. i wasn't going to gossip.  i wasn't going to be easily offended.  i wasn't going to be petty.  i wasn't going to, i wasn't going to, i wasn't going to...

if it wasn't so sad, i'd laugh.

why "wasn't i going to"?

so i could redeem who i was.  so that i could show people here, i had changed.  that i was different, better...worthy.

do you see who my focus was?

me and "them".

wrong.  so wrong on so many different levels, and i want to weep from the shame and humiliation of it all.

my focus needed and needs to be on the one Who loves me and "them", more then i and "they" will ever know.

my eyes need to be taken off the created and lifted to the Creator.

i have been changed, i have been redeemed, my life has been made better...through Him.  when i try and *be* all those things on my own, they become as empty and hollow and as full of sin and grime as they were before i allowed Him to work in my life.

abiding seemed so...clean and comforting back in january, and maybe it will have those elements at times.  but, as i'm learning, you can't have clean until you do some deep cleaning first.

so, if you happen to see me and i don't say much...please don't take it personally.  i'm keeping my mouth Guard in place...for your sake and mine.