lovey (or the tea field process continued)

in february, when i was in kenya i had one of those life moments. those times that stand out- with out the aid of pictures or words- because the moment itself was big enough and important enough to be remembered.  it was the moment when i thanked God for giving me zoe - all of her - sticky thoughts and learning differences and all.  i felt thankful in a real and true way- a new way - a way that i hadn't even figured out was important before.  i used to thank God for zoe, but, could He now transform her into normal.  it was more of a conditional thanks.

in those long quiet walks in the tea fields- when i asked God to show up and walk with me - when i asked to be given clarity in my work and our life in africa- i got a lot of wind and rustling leaves and then i got this- an awareness of how truly thankful i am that zoe- as she is- is my daughter.  i didn't realize until i'd said it out loud, that it was life changing.  that it was a beginning- that it was  necessary for my growth in all areas - that it was about trust most of all.  did i trust that God is good despite suffering?  did i trust that the small part of my life, and the world that i can see- is only a small part?

when i was a girl, to the great disappointment of my parents, i didn't like to read.  at. all.  and what i did read was kind of weird- i read books about kids with special needs.  the one that stands out is lovey by mary maccraken.  it was a true story about a teacher and the 4 special needs children she taught.  but she did more than teach them- she loved them, she brought them out of themselves, she gave them a safe place- she made a space for them to bloom.  and they bloomed. i was moved by this- entranced by this- fascinated- somewhere inside me was a deep sense that i needed to pay attention.

today we tried a new church because the one we go to is very loud and overwhelming for zoe.  i know new things are hard for her, but it meets at the boys school, so i figured it wouldn't be totally new, and zoe and i had accidentally met the pastor of this church in entebbe, another point of connection.  unfortunately it had been temporarily relocated because of construction, but the pastor recognized her, it was small, the singing was soft, and the sunday school class was manageable. off the kids went.

half way into the service zoe came in, quietly.  she sat down and explained not as quietly that they were doing a crossword puzzle and she couldn't do it and felt badly.  it was understandable.  i rubbed her arm and asked if she could wait until we finished praying and we could talk about it.

'no mom- i want to back to class.'
'oh you think you can? you want to?'
'yup'

and off she went again.
i felt nothing but a sweetness, and a thanks.
i thought about kenya- about my moment of awakening- about knowing it was a beginning, a peeling of layers that i'd build around me in seasons when trust was hard to come by and i was busy protecting myself.

the speaker today had talked about the challenge of understanding God's allowance of suffering in our lives. but also how we only see a small portion of a great big picture; a peak over the edge, we can't fully get the 30,000 foot view, at least not all the time.  trust, in the midst of our limited scope, is a choice. but a defining choice. 

i thought about my childhood reading. i thought about lovey. and i realized that somewhere inside of me is a deep desire to wholly love and care for zoe; to understand her, to reach her, to know her, to be patient with her, to appreciate her differences, to be a part of her growth, and let her be a part of mine.  somehow i was meant to do this.  i was in fact made for this.  i am, with grace, able to do this.

so what has been blocking my access? 

i think it's once again, my grubby little paws.  it's my want to have control over my life, to own the better plan, to be angry about not having it easy, to ignore, 'who has known the mind of the Lord?'
i think it's in my forgetting that, 'from him and through him and to him are all things'.

the accessibility began in those tea fields, and it continues.  it began with my saying 'thank you' with no 'buts'. it was the beginning of letting go, of shedding the covers of protection i'd been wearing. it was the first time i understood, i mean really understood the words of Jesus - 'come to me you who are weary and i will give you rest. for my yoke is easy and my burden is light '.  at least i understood that his way is easier, his burden is lighter than mine.  because in saying that 'thank you' and meaning it, it was the first time since about 4 years ago when zoe fell to bits, that i'd felt free.

today my girl walked in quietly- knowing where to go for help- even though she only needed a little. today, i was given the grace to feel nothing but sweet love for that girl, and the God who gave her to me, who holds us both in a great embrace, promising such beauty and peace and freedom, when we can shed the layers and trust.
today the tea field process continues for me and my own lovey.