One Thousand Gifts | 12.10

Today feels like a Chris Rice day. I'm heart-weary. I'm searching for the gifts, but they come hard. I'm seeing all the sadness and feeling all the hurt instead. I look for blessing in water messes and third time disobedience but get bogged down in what-am-I-doing-wrong and I'm-not-a-good-mother.

I'm folding up and putting away clothes two days late. I'm fussing over the clean house. I'm saying no more than yes. I brush away tears of imperfection.

Pastor talks about getting away by know, taking that time in quietness to hear God speak. It's been a long time since I had that much quietness. I'm turning up my hearing aid...does God speak louder than the boisterous noise of children? Can He hear my aloneness, among all this bustle? Does he understand why I keep trying to do it all, by myself? That relationships are hardest to maintain during this season of life? Does he understand how I yearn for quiet? For connection?

The children's teacher says to them -- "Jesus loves you!" He was born for you, just you. She points at all the children, one by one. I want her to point at me. I want to be rid of the never-good-enough-for-love that I've worn for so long. I want so badly to be the one He came for. I want to feel that kind of love, down deep. Put aside the doing and the being and the searching and the trying. I just want to rest in that I-love-you-anyway, I-love-you-always kind of love.

How to give that gift to my children? How to share that incredible undying love with them when it's not often in my own heart? How to pass on an ache for heaven, a belief in a Messiah, a spilling over love for mankind? When I doubt. When I feel empty. Worn from life's sleep-deprivation, worn from setting boundaries, worn from not having any time to ponder. Worn from not meeting with God.

Smile by Chris Rice on Grooveshark

And so I type down a few gifts, wiping the tears, reaching out in praise for the little things, things that echo love:
making new friends
brothers holding hands and jumping together
little one so excited about the grapefruit in his bowl
trees all dressed in white
songs of hallelujah
almond butter and honey mixed
a warm home nestled in this frozen frosty world