filling up

Sunlight breaking through the clouds, or dancing across my floor.  Light filtering through the leaves giving them a green-gold almost magical glow.  The lone hibiscus turning her face towards the sun, absorbing life.  And in the late afternoon... the sunlight twinkles through the trees.  The sun fills me up.  It fills me like laughter or a smile from my kids.  It fills me the way a quiet I love you does when it is whispered in my ear.   It fills me like a lyric from a song... speaking right to my heart.  And all of this is okay... because in the same breath drawn of amazement, I recognize it is all from Him, the One who created every scrap of life, every good and perfect gift.  He has woven Himself into every fiber of me... so that in all I do, or see, or seek, He is a part of it. 

With a stern look, we are told to put God first. 

Twice this week already... I have reminded friends that you need to make time for yourself if you plan to be of any use to your family, to your endless lists, to the things that make life work.  I believe it whole heartedly.  Too often in this world, we feel not enough, even if we choose to hear Him tell us that we are enough in Him.  Maybe it is because we are racing about trying to be super-woman when we know it is not possible.  And when I realized that?  I felt empty and not enough...and even if buckets of tears and mounds of chocolate could fill me, I wouldn't have accepted it.   But who can really do it all when their back is aching from bending to pick up stray socks, the to-do list from yesterday still weighs heavy in your pocket, you can't tell if you are coming or going, and dinner needs to be served... again?  And at every turn, you are beckoned... Mom, Ma, Mommy?  I never would have believed that I would grow tired of their voices calling me...

So we make a list of priorities... and even though it is hard and we know we will fail, we are told to put God at the top.  Next?  Husband.  Children.  Work.  The list goes on... and someone is always last.  And that someone?  It falls to us, because how could we place ourselves anywhere else?  That would be... selfish.

But what if He doesn't want me to make a list?  And what if He doesn't really need to be first, but instead desires to simply be a part of everything?  My Pastor encourages this... to make sure God is at the center of everything we do, everything we love, every first-second-third (and so on) most important thing.  And in that, my life becomes a circle, with Love in the center, instead of a long endless list that has me at the bottom.  And in that center, God is like sunshine... reaching out His rays into every bit of everything, weaving Himself into my life, feeling and seeing Him every moment. 

And the list goes on... #8-14 of 1,000 gifts:
-skittering sunshine.  always the sunshine.  always.
-she leaned in for a kiss goodbye.
-the breeze wrapped itself around me when I walked out the door... and then I caught the sweet scent.  I knew it was orange blossoms... but to me, it is the sweet breath of Jesus.
-the mystery chalk person and her cheery message.
-God peeking through the clouds... disguised as rays of sun.
-discovering a nest in the bushes... and watching the mama and daddy birds working to build it up.

-the salt air, the refreshing breeze, sand, surf and peace that I always find just beyond lot 3.

I wonder how long it will take me to get to 1,000. 
And then, I realize it doesn't matter... because I have no doubt that list will go beyond that number anyway.

6-2+2-1-1-1-1-1=1

You don't have to get hung up on math. 
It is the equation I need today... to remind me of my riches.  To have had six grandparents at any stage of my life, let alone two stages... is a blessing too big to fathom. 
I know that some people never even know one. 
But I didn't just have them, I knew them.  My life was impacted by theirs... and I have a storehouse of memories.  I am far beyond rich.  And as they have passed from this life to the promise of the next, I have cried and remembered... and fallen in love all over again. 

The call came last night... as we were on our way to celebrate a birthday.  I called my sister back from the car and we talked for less than five minutes.  I begged my husband not to tell anyone at the party.  I held it all in.  Until late last night, after I had finally spoken with my Dad.  My grandmother's passing was a blessing.  At 93 she was ready, perhaps past ready.  My swollen eyes attest to my sadness, but grief seems almost too strong a word.  Because she lived a full life that was decorated with friends and family... and the past years have not been as beautiful as one would hope for. 
But the ending? 
Oh, I hope it was lovely. 
I hope she was dreaming.  I hope memories danced before her eyes, and that my Grandpa was waiting just beyond them.  He was always known to be a grouch, so I'm sure he might have been slightly annoyed that it had taken her eleven years to find her way Home.  And I can just about hear her laughter as she brushed his scowl aside. 

Gently, knowing that tears are sure to follow, I let the memories resurface.  Hot oatmeal in her kitchen, and the bowl of ice cream that I stirred to melted soup... fluffy food.  Trips to the toy store... Barbies, Strawberry Shortcakes... and outfits too many to count.  Walks through Wheeler Park... all the way to the bench, passing the fallen down tree along the way.  Bingo at the hall... or in her living room.  Bedspreads that changed with the seasons.  Ravioli and soft biscotti.  Late night TV watched from the sofa bed, and the flash of her knitting needles, even in the dark.  Candy dishes... always full.  And that trip... when I was eight. 

These pieces of my life remind me how special, how important, a grandparent can be.  And I speak the words to the One who has them in His care... thank you.

to savor…

He knew right where to find the scissors... middle console. Because you know you always need a pair in the car. He sliced the top of the first package open, leaving the other four in his lap, put the scissors back in the middle console, and then finally, peeked into the shiny packet. It's the Explorer! Piece by piece, he clicked the lego mini-figure together until that explorer was peering at us through a magnifying glass as large as his head. With a smile, Cam set him on the dashboard. I expected him to tear into the next shiny package, but instead he sat with the checklist that had accompanied the little pieces and he picked his favorites. He reached into the middle console for the scissors again... and then replaced them before reaching in and making the next discovery. Sombrereo Man! We laughed as he assembled him... me, with eyes flickering between watching the road and his nimble fingers. Sombrero Man joined Explorer on the dash and Cam opened the middle console once again. This time he decided to keep the scissors out... but the process went on and on for miles...


I loved the way he savored the experience... giving each treasure its due. In my amazement, I wondered how I would have experienced it, and knew, that in my ever-present multi-tasking mode, I would have stacked all five packages together and made one quick slice with the scissors. I probably wouldn't have dumped all the pieces, but I surely would have peeked into each package, one by one, freeing the mystery. And all of the expectation of hope.

How often do I rush through to the end... and miss the joy in the process?

Always. Go, go, go. I am very efficient.

But maybe the time has come... to slow down and savor the ordinary. I am good at savoring the special moments, even making little moments special. I am better at savoring dessert. And I am getting better at savoring the everyday. Maybe efficiency isn't all I thought it was. Maybe cutting off 5 minutes of time leaves me weary instead of joyful, even if there is a smug sense of satisfaction that comes with it.

Smug or joy? No contest. Joy wins... even just the thought of it. Savoring begins... now.

And as I savor, I also begin to count...

#1-7 of One Thousand Gifts.

-He makes the most out of everything... savoring and drawing joy.  And his fourteen-year-old heart shines and shares... and I am in awe of it.
-Chatting with my girl all the way to to barn... unlike most Saturdays when we ride just listen to the radio.
-One-two-three-four of the most gorgeous days, all in a row.
-Sun and moon in one glance.
-His arms around me, his breath on my neck... whispering good bye and have a good day and I love you.
-Really singing to God, instead of just following the notes on a page.
-Finding the perfect gift for a friend, and the hurry up and get here feeling in my soul, waiting for her birthday.

early in the morning

I realize it will be... just moments before it happens. 

I have been following the moon for miles... from beautiful, bright and glowing to a mere translucent whisper in the sky.  But the world is warming with the soft glow of sunshine with the softest rainbow-shadow hovering on the horizon.  She has not yet shown her face, but the promise is there. 

I turn the corner and notice the reflection in the mirror...  the moon is now following me, and I let out a laugh.  I continue on my way, and suddenly, the sun is risen.  Her golden light chasing through the trees, gilding the morning.  This is a gift.  To see both moon and sun in one glance.  The night behind me, the day before me.  Beauty in both.  In the same moment I wish for my camera, and know that this is not something to be captured... I simply need to etch it on my heart.  So I keep on driving... wondering if the cars around me see what I see, or if they are trying to block the sun from their sight.  I only allow a moment of grief for them... and though I drive on, I lift my face, just a bit, to the sun. 

For seven miles... I thank Him for this gift.  Beauty behind me, and the brightest future ahead.  He tells me it is His promise.  The brightest future is ours... eternally.