Engraved in the Palm of His Hand

My thoughts were born in the same place that many of my deeper thoughts are woven together: the quiet monotony of rocking my baby to sleep. The four older children had brushed their teeth, listened to  two chapters of a book, and gone to bed, but Alaine's lashes still refused to meet.  Swaddling her and holding her close, I paced the room, half-listening to the special news report broadcasting on the TV.  Broken people gathered in an athletic arena to hear the President offer words regarding Saturday's shooting tragedy in Arizona. 

He spoke a few words and I began to rock in place, drawn to what he had to say.  While he spoke words of tribute to the victims, sympathy to those who lost loved ones, and praise to the heroes, I was struck by the absence of hope. 

"There is nothing I can say that will fill the sudden hole torn in your hearts," he said. 

But there is One who can fill the holes, mending the hurts. We are unlike them who have no hope. We are not immune to pain.  We still ache and we still groan for relief, but  "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." 

"We are grateful for... a volunteer in Gabby's office who ran through the chaos to minister to his boss... We are grateful for the men who tackled the gunman as he stopped to reload. We are grateful for...Patricia Maisch, who wrestled away the killer's ammunition...And we are grateful for the doctors and nurses and emergency medics who worked wonders to heal those who'd been hurt."
 

The list stopped there while my own heart cried out, "Are we not  also thankful  to God, the one who placed those heroes among the chaos of that day?  Who gave strength to the hands of the medical workers?  Who gave healing to the victims, if not our Lord?" 

"Scripture tells us that there is evil in the world, and that terrible things happen for reasons that defy human understanding."

I am so grateful that His word also assures that, though we do live in a fallen world and we don't always understand why bad things are allowed to happen, we that know Him have hope.  Even when He seems to be silent, He is moving.

I've always loved the story of Elijah in I Kings 19.  Finding himself in a desperate situation, Elijah was waiting for the presence of the Lord.  Having been witness to the awesome power of God,  he assumed  the Lord would show Himself in a powerful way.  After looking for the Lord in the wind and the earthquake and the fire, Elijah heard a gentle whisper and knew the Lord was near. 

He has not forgotten us for we are engraved in the palm of His hand.  There is no other place I'd rather be.

Please excuse these stumbling words as I write outside of my element.  Politics and "news-y" things are so outside of my comfort zone!

The Aroma of Christ

“For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing.” (2 Corinthians 2:15

“I want to be like you, Mama.” She says this as I loop her apron strings into a bow around her waist. She fingers my apron and beams. “Now we look alike.” She turns to look up at me with the clear blue eyes like her Daddy’s. Minus her rounded nose and flowing hair, she looks far more like her Daddy than me, but our matching red apple aprons and this rare time alone in the kitchen is enough for her.

Sometimes I think I should be more like her, she whose every move is exacted slowly, carefully. Carefully, she chooses a dress from her closet. Carefully, she folds her nightgown and returns it to its place. Carefully, she brushes each tooth. Carefully, she glides her pencil across the page of her alphabet book. Carefully, she folds the napkins into triangles for meals. She is never in hurry, but she never hesitates to stand up for truth! Me? I scurry through my days but freeze amidst confrontation...

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There All the Time

You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?

Psalm 139: 2-3, 7

I stood close to Gavin’s chair in the cramped exam room. His lip quivered while fighting tears. The weekend’s toothache and fever had necessitated our Monday morning trip to the dentist. His jaw resembling a hoarding squirrel’s, he had tried to joke before they called us back for our turn. “Mama, I don’t know why you are bringing me here since my tooth is all better.”

But the preceding sleepless night had assured me it was far from better so I kept the conversation light as we passed the nervous minutes.

Gavin’s breathing quickened as a hygienist entered the room and placed a lead blanket over my boy’s heaving chest. “Ma’am, can you step out while I take an x-ray?” Heart tugging, I weaved my way around medical equipment and took my place directly outside the open door. I heard a whimper as I left his side...

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The Bible Tells Me So

I have been away. Not by choice. My phone line was down, and boy, did I feel isolated! But I am back...

:*:*:*:*:

“Mama?” Owen said for probably the hundredth time of the day.

“What?” I answered, only half listening.

“I love Jesus.”

My full attention was snagged. “Oh, Owen, I’m so glad.” A tender moment…but it went downhill from there.

Gavin piped up, “Owen, you love God, too.”

“Nope,” he replied. “Just Jesus!”

(Maddie, our house theologian, made it her mission that evening to explain the Trinity to him!)

:*:*:*:*:

I’ve found that when the kids are having a hard time understanding a concept or how people in a story are related, I give them examples from their own lives. On a recent morning, we read the account of David and of his son, Absalom’s attempt to kill him. Amidst the jumble of names, I knew that Gavin didn’t grasp the magnitude of what we were reading. I said, “Gavin, Absalom was David son. Can you imagine trying to kill Daddy?”

A look of horror passed over his face as he said, “No, I would never kill Daddy. He is my best friend!”

A light bulb moment!

Kristin

Proverbs 31:28-30

Dear Mom,

You may have thought no one was watching when you created carefree fun on a restricted budget. But I was watching. I noticed. I warmly recall those days so many years ago when you took young Ryan and me to the mall where we split a hot dog while we played on the "big steps." Those recollections still inspire me to do the little things that grow big in the memories of my children.

Her children arise and call her blessed.

You may have thought no one was watching when we took vacations that were not your "cup of tea." But I was watching; I noticed. We waited in line for the roller coasters while you waited on a bench, and you gripped the van door while Dad wound through mountain roads and stopped at every steep overlook. You endured cheerfully for the sake of family fellowship. I think of you now as I travel with my own family and die to my own desires, bringing them happiness.

You may have thought no one was watching your relationship with Dad, but I was watching. I noticed how you enjoyed cooking to his liking and how, when he was going to be home late from work, you would serve the rest of us while you waited for him. I remember how you never spoke a negative word about him to others and that made such an impression on me that I've made that a personal policy in my own marriage.

Her husband also, and he praises her.

You may have thought no one was watching the sacrifices you made the summer I turned seventeen, but I was watching. I noticed how, with a three-year-old in tow, you taxied me to work each morning and then prepared dinner in the afternoon so I could eat while you transported me to my evening employment. I think of you now as I strive to "do all things without complaining."

You may have thought no one was watching when you read your tattered, gray Bible in the mornings, but I was watching. I noticed. I think of you now as I thumb through the worn pages of my own Bible and say as you often said, "I don't want a new one because I know this one so well."

Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.

You may have thought no one was watching numerous thing you did, but I was watching and I noticed. I watched as you surrendered your days alone to bring us back home for school. I watched as you went through a difficult later-in-life pregnancy and endured insensitive comments, but maintained your joy in God's blessing of the new life within you. I watched as you rejoiced with a son in his chance for advancement and adventure, but wept as it pulled him miles away and left an ache in your heart. I watched as you beckoned guests into our home and delivered meals, cards, and encouragement to friends. I watched as you lived.

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.

Love,

Kristin

Psalm 42:5

A storm of grumps and grumbles darkens the children's evening. Sharp words are tossed while frowns blow from face to face. Why this upheaval, Lord? In a brief break from discord's ripples, I see my own image reflected in the puddle of discontentment.

In my search to find the source of their anger I need look no further than myself. How naive to imagine that in their passion to imitate me, they can choose only my noble qualities. So to change them, I must change me. Minute by minute, situation by situation, I must abandon my tendency to complain. Abandon my needless fussing. Will my praise encourage theirs?


Benjamin wakes up at 5 o'clock to nurse and doesn't resettle for sleep until the alarm signals the end of my night and my chance of extra rest...for I will yet praise Him.

Owen and Gavin shriek with little boy abandon and re-wake Benjamin. I dress and start breakfast with a cranky infant on my hip...for I will yet praise Him.

Oh it is a constant effort to work against my flesh.

I trip over board books and step on a stray Lego...for I will yet praise Him.

Owen needs his diaper changed and Gavin needs his math work checked and Maddie needs a drink of water...for I will yet praise Him.

Naptime is noisier and less restful than I planned...for I will yet praise Him.

Benjamin jostles around in my arms as I pound the chicken in frustration. I pause to sweep some crumbs and the dust pan skitters across the floor in my clumsy attempt. Maddie asks me to dress her doll and I snap, "Can't you see I'm busy?" bringing us both to tears. Grace through my setback...for I will yet praise Him.

Brian calls to say he will be working late...for I will yet praise Him.



It is evening again. The sun still shines. There is joy through our exhaustion, peace in our chaos. And we praise Him together!

Kristin