pondering

i think i'm finally learning to ponder.  to ponder things in my heart.
to sit. to hold it.  the tension of the opposites.  to keep things.  to wait.
i think i'm finally understanding, that it's about walking in stillness with my God.  i've come to realize that having my thoughts or questions or decisions that need to be made, running circles around themselves in my head or even my heart, is not pondering.  but reflection, meditation, prayer and listening to that still small voice, are the spices and the flavor that my thoughts and hopes and questions need, to develop, to age, to mature, to ripen.  it's like making a good curry. 
so i'm sitting with things. today in the rain.  on my porch.  thankfully with the lights on.

yesterday i got to see zoe's shine.  yesterday i got to have my heart broken again by the things that break the heart of God.  yesterday zoe and i had an accidental field trip to an orphanage- accept that i don't believe in accidents. we were supposed to have a field trip at the US embassy.  but after zoe saluted many guards and uganda police officers, bringing as usual great joy and smiles, we realized we needed an appointment.  but since we were on ggaba road, i decided we should check out this second hand children's store i'd heard about where the proceeds all go to support an orphanage- specifically the medical needs of the orphans.  it was a tiny, but well organized store and i grabbed a few sweatshirts for the kids as i had greatly under estimated how cool it can get in uganda when it rains.  zoe asked if we could go visit the kids in the orphanage.  i told her i doubted it- i was sure there were rules and regulations and background checks but told her she was welcome to ask.  the women were delighted to have her come and meet the kids- so off we went.

we were led down a darkish hallway with several small ones coming out of a bathroom trying to put back on their very dirty sweatpants, and into an outdoor courtyard where more children were sitting or crawling or being held or being fed.  it was very much like the photos you see of african orphans.  dirt and runny noses and flies landing and not being shooed away.

zoe jumped right in.  she was in her element.  she was magnetized.  she looked around and wanted to love all of them.  she got down and played, she engaged them, she learned their names. she picked up the small ones, held the babies, moved the ones who had crawled into trouble and removed small objects from little mouths.  she even shared her beloved 'powerpuff girls' with them.  i mean she let these babies suck on them, whack her with them, fight over them, pull them, drop them and she only took them away when one kid tried to soak them in a tub of water.

the nannies at the babies home- fell-in- love with zoe.  and what has happened so often before, but always seems to catch me by surprise - happened again.  they spoke of her heart, her goodness, her uniqueness, her maturity, how different she is from other 12 year olds, how there was 'just something' about her.  the je ne sais quoi.  zoe's shine.    they said the wanted her to come every week.  and it was such an affirmation- for her and for me.  this was one of my hopes in coming here- for her to begin to find her place in the world.  for her to find an outlet for her gifts- for her to build confidence- and for her to see the world outside of herself- to be less concerned with her nonverbal learning disability, less concerned with her sticky thoughts, and more aware of what she has to give, to share, to teach.

we were there for four hours.  and while we held and helped out and played, i heard stories.  stories of the absolute brokenness of our world.  stories that made me tear up and bite my lip.  stories that broke my heart- stories that made me hold on tighter, and stay longer, and ask questions.  stories that made me ponder.

and i thought about these little ones who didn't ask for this life they were given- yet they were given life.  who have seen so much, but not felt the love they deserve.  and i thought about how God loves each of us enough to give us our own face.  really.  to give us uniqueness.  complexity, subtlety, individuality.  how we are loved individually.  how i love my children each of them- just because.  how i love each of them completely differently- but they are loved equally.


isn't the heart of God broken by the abandon of these children?  and by last wednesdays doling out of death (troy davis), so two wrongs can make a right? (what?) and by the starvation of people in east africa? and by so many things.  so many that we can sit overwhelmed.  frozen.

but in the stillness i thought about the bigness of my God.
.... my grace is sufficient ...
...what you do for the least of these, you do for me....
...I am your strength... rest in me....
... love each other as I have loved you....

...to those whom much is given...much is expected...
...do for one, what you wish you could do for everyone.....
...what is your response?....
...what do you do about it?...

and i thought about capacity. 'the ability to hold or receive or absorb.  a measure of this ability.  the maximum amount that can be contained.'

what is my capacity- our capacity- our ability- our maximum- as we sit in so much blessing?

and i remembered that dream i had when i was pregnant with jude.  that dream when Jesus spoke, when i said 'i can't handle this'  and He answered 'you have no idea what you can handle'. 

so i sit.  here in the stillness.  and these are some of the things i ponder in my heart.