Rain





Rain comes down relentless, and it's raining inside too. It is early morning, and I am already feeling overwhelmed.
"Lord," I pray "Help me make it through this day..."

I am retreating in my room, and I fumble for words as I stare blankly at the rain coming down. Just flowing and emptying out.
The prayer doesn't come. I am mesmerized by water sheeting across fields.

"Lord, please hear my unformed prayer. You know just what I need."
It is a simple prayer, but one that resonates. He fashions and shapes all; He can take the unformed prayer and form it to perfection.

I keep watching the rain. It is belting, billowing, weeping wildly a deluge. As I keep this rain vigil, the water begins to take shape.  I start to see individual raindrops as they make their way to the earth. Each little droplet has to fall separately from the sky, making its way in unison with all the other single droplets plunging.

"That's what it's like some days," I think. "There are days when I feel every drop of rain hitting individually. Every disappointment, every failing- another drop stinging as it hits my face. And all the drops pool and puddle until they spill over."

I gaze longer, still ruminating.

"But it's the rain that renews the earth, the rain that causes life to flourish. God sends the rain to replenish. And the rain is made up of single drops. All the hardships and frustrations I experience in my life are the droplets bringing life, carrying me closer to God."

It seems that the shapeless prayer of a helpless child has been heard, bearing encouragement and consolation. I leave my room, back to the battle ground. Later in the day I read the fitting words from a devotional:

"Passionate attachment to Jesus, in spite of our human failings, is what pleases the Father most. Whether or not we do the right things, whether or not we keep our promises, is not as important as our attitudes and our willingness to turn to God for forgiveness each time we sin. We may see only our unbelief and failings, but Jesus sees the desires of our hearts."

Let us have faith, then,  that the rain of life will renew our souls as we seek to find God in heavenly showers.

Just A Year Ago

A little boy creates, and I give thanks for curled toes tucked under legs.

It was one year ago that Oliver was slipping from us. His body was shutting down, for no apparent reason, and no-one knew what was happening. A vibrant mischievous boy was convulsing so hard, he was induced into a coma and airlifted to a hospital  miles away. He spent three weeks in the ICU, and when he was finally healed, the doctors still didn't know what exactly happened.  A virus? An undiagnosed disease? A mystery.

When Oliver first woke up from his induced coma, he was a different child. He was angry and belligerent, which is not the Oliver we know and love. His memory was foggy and I was scared. My math wizard, my inquisitive boy, could no longer even write or hold a pencil. I was assured that it was all normal, but it wasn't normal for me. To see his sweet face and hug his precious body was amazing, but to not feel his spirit, his life-  was terrifying. What if he doesn't come back. Where is he? Will he ever be the same?

We didn't have time to entertain worries. We were still fighting for his survival. His blood pressure started skyrocketing for no apparent reason, and medicine was not controlling it. At first his kidneys were not functioning, but then he started developing a strange rash. Questionable findings on his brain showed up on the MRIs. Everyday brought new and frightening developments.

Miraculously, and I do credit the multitude of prayers and heavenly mercy, Oliver was healed. He took high doses of steroids for months, which posed their own problems, but a year later...he is back to our Oliver.

Praise God!

He gets thrilled over a drawing kit that comes in the mail, like I've given him a hundred dollars to spend how he pleases. He dives in right away and draws an impressive still life.

Just Yesterday he had gone to the woods by himself to plant a pine sapling "to use for a bookend in my room." Then he decided that it needed more sun than his room could afford and brought it to the dining room.

I am filled with gratitude for his healing in body and spirit. When he was sick I promised that if he ever got well, I would never take his sweet spirit for granted. A promise made by a scared mama, desperate for his life and thinking that my ingratitude had something to do with it all.

The reality is that such a promise can't be kept. I can remind myself of how grateful I need to be,and  I know how Oliver truly blesses us with his presence. But gratitude doesn't operate in a vacum.

Nerves fray, children annoy, life grates, and living isn't all peace and love because we are human. We  think if we're not one hundred percent grateful, then we are not thankful people. The fact is, it is precisely the niggling of life that makes way for gratitude. We give thanks in the midst of all the mess- the spiritual mess we stew in day after day.

I would like to be able to say that after Oliver got well I never felt annoyed with him again. I do have a greater apprecitaion for not taking my children for granted, but it is shameful how easily I slip into old habits- my spiritual slippers, worn out and floppy.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I have been reading Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts. She does such a lovely job of showing how to give thanks in the most seemingly mundane aspects of life. And this thanks, gratitude for the smallest graces, is life transforming.

I Have kept a "gratitude journal" for years and years now, but Ann's book has taught me how it is important to record even the smallest thanks in our lives. For example, yesterday I was stuck behind a school bus dropping off a load of children. A father was waiting expectantly at the bus stop for his children to get off of the bus. The children descended from the bus and ran to embrace their father. That incident went into my journal.

Ann has shown me how gratitude journals aren't about just what we experience and what happens to me individually. All instances of God's grace and beauty are cause for rejoicing.

Life isn't always beautiful, but a thankful attitude towards life, towards the smallest mercies unfolded can make life beautiful in a way that heals and restores our souls.

He Will Do The Rest

Last night was restless and tossed; I ached for peace. My own failings coupled with a frustrating situation left me feeling alone, abandoned.



Photo Credit: Ben Smithdeal

 
As I lay in bed, I questioned.

"How, Lord? How do I find the joy and riches of the moments that oppress and strip? What if I am barely holding on, wishing moments away, yearning for new moments- joy-filled moments that breathe life. What about the moments that seem like bits of death?"

I am once again drawn to the writings of  Jean-Pierre De Caussade, and I numbly open the book.
I read.

Now, if we see the will of God in the most trifling affairs, in every misfortune, and in every disaster, we shall accept them all with an equal joy, delight and respect. What others fear and flee from, we shall welcome with open doors. The clothing is shabby and mean to the ordinary eye, , but we shall respect the royal majesty hidden under it and feel a deepening of our love the more hidden and abject our king is. I cannot describe what the heart feels when it accepts the divine will so apparently diminished in power, so humble and pitiful. How profoundly moved Mary's loving heart was when she saw the poverty of her God,lying whimpering and trembling on a bundle of hay in a manger.

To adore Jesus on Tabor, or to accept the will of God expressed through remarkable circumstances, does not prove that our faith is stronger or better than to accept gladly God' s will in the petty affairs of life and to worship Jesus nailed to the cross, for our faith is never more alive than when what we experience through our senses contradicts and tries to destroy it....

Mary sees the Apostles flee, but she herself remains faithfully at the foot of the cross. Torn by wounds and disfigured with spittle though he was, she new him as her son. Indeed his bleeding, battered body increased her love and adoration of him. The more viciously blasphemed, the more she venerated him....

The life of faith is the untiring pursuit of God through all that disguises and disfigures him, and as it were, destroys and annihilates him.

Photo credit: Ben Smithdeal

Caussade continues:

Look at Mary; from the stable to Cavalry she stayed close to that God who was despised, rejected persecuted. So it is with all faithful souls. They have to pass through a steady succession of veils and shadows and illusions which seek to hide the will of God, but they follow and love it even to death on the cross. They know they must leave the shadows and run after the divine sun which, from its rising to its setting and no matter how thick and dark the clouds hiding it, illumines, warms, and sets aglow the loyal hearts who bless, praise and contemplate it as it sweeps along its mysterious course.

Let us, then, as faithful souls, happy and tireless, advance after the beloved as he moves with giant strides across the heavens. He sees all things. He walks above the smallest blades of grass and the cedar groves, and treads the grains of sand as well as the mountain peaks. Wherever we have trodden he has been, and if we constantly pursue him we shall find him no matter where we are.

Photo Credit: Ben Smithdeal

There is no peace more wonderful than the peace we enjoy when faith shows us God in all created things. All that is dark becomes light, and what is bitter is sweet.

Faith transforms ugliness into beauty, and malice into kindness. Faith is the mother of tenderness, trust , and joy.

Photo Credit: Ben Smithdeal

It cannot feel anything but love and pity for its enemies, by whom it is so greatly enriched, for the more harsh the actions of creatures against us, the more beneficial God makes them for our souls. The human instrument tries to injure us, but the divine craftsman, in whose hands it is, ensures that it takes from our souls all that would harm them.

The will of God has only delights, favors and riches for all souls who are obedient to it. We cannot trust it too much or abandon ourselves to it too completely. If we leave everything to God, he will do all that is necessary for our holiness. Faith cannot doubt this. The more unreliable, disgusted, despairing and unsure of themselves our senses are, the more emphatically does faith exclaim:
'God is here! All goes well.'

Photo Credit: Ben Smithdeal

Photo Credit: Ben Smithdeal

"There is nothing faith cannot overcome. It pierces through the darkest shadows and the thickest clouds to reach the truth, embrace it and can never be torn from it."

(All excerpts taken from Jean-Pierre De Caussade's Abandonment To Divine Providence, pgs 39-40)

Photo Credit: Ben Smithdeal

I read and was renewed, encouraged.

It all became clear to me: Our emptiest moments are the moments hollowed out for his grace to fill. When we are stripped of all consolation, the present moment is unity with God: with his suffering, his dying, and his redemption.

He will take the ugly and redeem those moments for eternity. All I have to do is be and trust. Be. Trust.  Know. He will do the rest.

The Infinity Of Now

"From time to time, to remind ourselves to relax, to be peaceful, we may wish to set aside some time for a retreat, a day of mindfulness, when we walk slowly, smile, drink tea with a friend, and enjoy being together as if we are the happiest people on Earth."
~Thich Nhat Hanh

Sometimes we don't have a whole day. Do we have an hour? Thirty minutes? Just a moment to find the center? To recenter, to God center?

I was in the middle of giving out orders this morning, in the midst of frenzy, when Ben asked from the other room:
"Mom, Can I come on your walk with you today?"
An Invitation I can't resist.
"Yes! I would love that," I responded, trying not to sound over eager.

We set out, air quivering with Spring, to search for that which satisfies body and soul: the depth of texture, welling and gushing from impenetrable earth chasm.

We are both quiet, stilled by the beauty, and  fired by the hunt. Going our separate ways there is unity of intent, a common purpose that urges us down trails and through woods deep.

We are not disillusioned.

Light scintillates and dazzles in radiance overflowing.


One droplet, the womb of illumined essence- the energy, the sensuality of creation contained in a single sphere of water, slips to earth.

And we, so honored to be witnesses to the testimony of his grandeur, find solace in the symmetry and simplicity of ferns patterned amongst leaves and limbs in outspread majesty.

to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He might be glorified.  Isaiah 61:3

Open spaces breathe and we respire life.

The other day, in a check-out line at the grocery store, a young woman rang up the items and hurriedly put them into bags. But she was slow. Painfully slow. She was flustered and busy, but inefficient. I felt so badly for her. She was keenly aware of her ineffectiveness. I told her not to hurry, that it was fine. She replied, "You're not hurrying me. I'm hurrying myself." I prayed for her. I really did.

I thought "That's me . In a rush but slow all at once. And this is what it looks like."


Could it be that our hurrying grieves God? Is that why he wants us to embrace the present moment, like that water droplet embraces the light, so that we can truly experience Him?

It is not possible to love God in a hurry. God's love is manifested in the gentle unfolding of each moment that quells and stills, never hurries, never in a rush.

 
"Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10)

 

Nature never hurries, but her timing is perfection- the supreme orchestration. We can learn from her gentle and effective ways. We must slow ourselves, quiet our hearts and minds to make room for God.

"Every moment is crammed with infinite riches which are given us according to the extent of our faith and love." ~ Jean Pierre De Caussade

What Redeems

Whispers of Spring dot fields and country roads, and a heart wells up with the multitude of creation. All breadth of a world sublime exults:

"What is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?"(Psalm 8:4)

Steady stride tends the pace of swirling thoughts:

Who Am I? That He is mindful. Of me.

My morning walk has become my meditation, my inspiration. I walk and hammer out the thoughts all scattered in a disjointed mind.

This morning  I was thinking about something I read with the children yesterday.
In the seventeenth century, man had conquered the sea, discovered new lands, and had made much progress in establishing civilization. Thus, it came as a surprise to me when I read the following excerpt of a famed Doctor's writings:

"If you press a piece of underwear soiled with sweat, together with some wheat in an open-mouthed jar, after about 21 days the odor changes and the ferment, coming out of the underwear and penetrating through the husks of wheat, changes the wheat into mice...But what is even more remarkable is that the mice which come out of the wheat and underwear are not small mice, not even miniature adults or aborted mice, but adult mice emerge."

~ Dr. Jan Baptista Helmont

Mice from underwear and wheat. Seriously?

It wasn't until fifty years later that another doctor, Dr. Francesco Redi, proved that spontaneous generation was not possible. For 2100 years, ideas of spontateous generation went unchallenged and believed.

My children, even my five year old, were stunned by such ignorance.
We certainly have come a long way in what we know and understand of science and technology, but the fact remains:

Ignorance is alive and well in the human race.

Let us not deceive ourselves. It is only His mindfulness of us that gives us worth.

"I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." ~ John 15:5

Present -day culture places so much emphasis on material success and being "smart." But in God's eyes, knowledge in itself, has no value:

"Now concerning things sacrificed to idols, we know that we all have knowledge. Knowledge makes arrogant, but love edifies." ~ 1Corinthians 8:1

You know what? God is a lot more concerned about whether or not I am a loving person, than the intelligence that fills my brain. And not only that, it is love that edifies, not knowledge. To "edify" is to instruct in spiritual matters, and it is love that will make God's teaching clear- show us how to live. Not knowledege.

Last night, I cam home from Zumba feeling happy and energized. I walked through the door, and my heart started to sink:  groceries-still piled on the floor, dishes- everywhere , food-also everywhere. All these children home, and no-one did anything. The negative thoughts were mounting.

"I'm just being selfish by leaving everyone to exercise. I need to stay home. Why don't the kids do more on their own?"
On and on the negativity rolled like a river. I didn't get angry with the children. I went to bed and thought, "There's always tomorrow."

I turned the light out on the mess, and brought my baby to bed. She had been waiting for me. And waiting. So I gave up on that quiet time reserved for cleaning to peaceful music and headed upstairs.
"I always wait for you, Mommy," she said as we snuggled under the covers.

This morning I woke and was once again called out of doors. "No, not today. I have to clean up this mess."
Then I thought about what I wrote yesterday- about saying "Yes!"- and I put my boots on.

I did have a lovely walk, and coming home I braced myself for the mess. "I'm not going to be negative," I coached. "The children are just being children and it doesn't mean anything more than that." I opened the door.

My Ben had cleaned the whole kitchen: candles lit, groceries put away, fresh coffee in the pot.
 One day he might understand how one loving act can edify and renew a sagging spirit.

It all came together. Yes, we are floundering, stumbling creatures. But love makes all whole. Love gathers the pieces of shattered hmanity and mends. Love redeems the ignorance.