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Love like I'm not scared...

I was working at the church this morning with both boys.  They were running around and climbing on the chairs in the choir room, pretending to be planes and Angry Birds.  I don’t ask. I just let them run, climb and beg them to not scream louder than my Pandora playlist can play.  I was stocking, prepping for Sunday and praying over the service, for our ministers, for our team.

I got a text while stacking Dr. Pepper and water that wasn't the best of news.  I froze immediately in fear and despair.  My heart wailed.  God, I can’t handle more.  I just can’t.  I all but fell down on one of the floor speakers and buried my face and cried.  I thought the boys were oblivious until the squealing stopped and I heard a voice, “Mommy, why are you crying?”  

So, I lied.

“I’m not.  I’m just praying.”

Not entirely a lie. Sometimes tears are prayers all by themselves.  

I got up and pushed myself to refill both of the Keurig machines and prop up the bags of bagels.  Organized bags of chips as though it mattered.  I stood a little long at the back door, staring at the pond.  Pandora paused.  Silence.  

Good, I thought.  

I just wanted to stand in complete quiet.

“Why did the music stop?” Five year olds never stop asking questions.  I took a slow breath.  Watched the clouds float slow over the blue sky, the blue pond.

“Just wait.  The music will come back on.  It’ll always come back on.” I told him without turning.

I pressed pause on my heart.  Just wait.  Just hold on.  Just listen.  Fix your eyes and tune your ears and honey, oh sweet baby, you’ll hear it.  You’ll hear the music continue.  You’ll find a song to keep singing.  


Early this morning, while my house slept and the sun was still hidden, I read about how we are living stones.  All rolled up together for His glory and His purpose.  How we’re a treasure to Him.  

Living temples, if you will.  

We’re a cocoon for grace and mercy.  A holy of holies, right here under our hearts.  A walking, breathing, living church.  Hinged on Christ, the cornerstone.  

"The Rock won't move and His word is strong..." 
~  V e r t i c a l   C h u r c h   B a  n d   

He is unmoving.  He is unchanging.  His song, His anthem, bellows out above us, regardless of the times, the shipwrecks, the sorrows.  There’s peace and hope in that.  Apart from Him, we fall apart.  But knotted together, we’re a strand of living stones, a string of much-loved pearls, around His neck and in His hands.  We always mater to Him.  We never stop mattering to Him.

And when our throats are too sore to sing, it’s okay.  We can quiet and wait and listen...

And hear.

"The things of earth are dimming
in the light of Your glory and grace.
I'll set my sights upon Heaven;
I'm fixing my eyes on You,
on You; I'm fixing my eyes on You.
I'm fixing my eyes."
~  F o r   K i n g   &   C o u n t r y




Comments

  1. in a similar place myself. it's good to know i'm not the only one who finds herself in times of being unable to sing and straining to hear a new song!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. *hugs* No, definitely not the only one, friend. xoxo

      Delete

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