how did it get to be april 13th already?
it was just not that long ago that it was september 13th. and i was home. and the sun was hot. and the earth was red.
now we have survived the longest winter i've known in 18 years.
but yesterday it was warm enough to be called hot if i sat in the sun and out of the wind - and my skin felt good for the first time in seven months.
three years ago.
three years ago today. rosie came.
how strange to be celebrating her anniversary with snow still on the ground. on the other side of an ocean. far away from what we call home.
sometimes it feels like too much time has passed and i begin to forget. sometimes i can just close my eyes and be there. like right now.
time is strange- we can't let go of it, out run it, or avoid it- it's just there with the coming and going of the sun. and there was evening and there was morning - the first day. God gave it to us. it's a gift, He knew we needed it because we are small enough that not having time would swallow us up- or at least me. this way, i get to begin again. and again. each day, each week, each season, each year. each minute if need be. and need often be.
her birthday is coming too. six years old. half her life with us- the half she remembers. three of my kids have lived most of their remembering years on the other side of the world. not here, booted and coated. but there, barefooted, bare-chested and free.
today before school, we read something from the bible, because it has become even more, my most precious book. because it's really what i want them to know- words that draw us nearer to Love. words that bring life and light, and hope and healing, and joy and peace. today it was jeremiah- for I know that plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future. then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. you will seek me and find me when you seek me with all of your heart. I will be found by you.
God is full of promises and truth but God doesn't need time so that can make communicating hard. we are tied to it- He isn't. He knows, we don't. we see now, He sees always at once. so things that don't seem like prospering, things that seem full of harm, are only a part of a story that's already written. we are stuck in chapter two, and when chapter two is full of challenge, it can be hard to hold on to promises- it can be hard to call, and pray, and seek.
i asked the kids what challenges they feel. they all said being away from home. and they meant uganda. i get it. i feel it too. but there has been something in this long cold winter that has spoken to me. quietly.
time in new england is visible. palpable. its passage is written in the trees and the grass and in the light. a knowledge of things changing. of life returning. growth. awakening. renewal. things becoming restored. this is exactly where i should be now, the story outside the window gives a voice to my own story.
in looking back, because we can in time, i know there are some seasons when God does more than know and listen and be found. there are some seasons when God is more than waiting, seasons when He does the seeking and the calling and the reaching and finding. and this time, for me, is that time. i have been found. again. and when someone goes looking for you, you know in a way that you may have never fully know before, that they love you. like really, truly love you. and being loved by the one who made time and spring and everything, is huge. is enough. no matter what.
that knowing, is worth a thousand winters.
in about three months, when the world here is green again, and our skin feels good all the time, we will finally be heading back home. and from the other side of the world, we will look back to now and marvel at how time keeps on going, and wonder how it could already be august 13th. we will remember the months of snow and silence. the stillness of winter. the waiting. and the soft calling of God- who knew all along.
it was just not that long ago that it was september 13th. and i was home. and the sun was hot. and the earth was red.
now we have survived the longest winter i've known in 18 years.
but yesterday it was warm enough to be called hot if i sat in the sun and out of the wind - and my skin felt good for the first time in seven months.
three years ago.
three years ago today. rosie came.
how strange to be celebrating her anniversary with snow still on the ground. on the other side of an ocean. far away from what we call home.
sometimes it feels like too much time has passed and i begin to forget. sometimes i can just close my eyes and be there. like right now.
time is strange- we can't let go of it, out run it, or avoid it- it's just there with the coming and going of the sun. and there was evening and there was morning - the first day. God gave it to us. it's a gift, He knew we needed it because we are small enough that not having time would swallow us up- or at least me. this way, i get to begin again. and again. each day, each week, each season, each year. each minute if need be. and need often be.
her birthday is coming too. six years old. half her life with us- the half she remembers. three of my kids have lived most of their remembering years on the other side of the world. not here, booted and coated. but there, barefooted, bare-chested and free.
today before school, we read something from the bible, because it has become even more, my most precious book. because it's really what i want them to know- words that draw us nearer to Love. words that bring life and light, and hope and healing, and joy and peace. today it was jeremiah- for I know that plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future. then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. you will seek me and find me when you seek me with all of your heart. I will be found by you.
God is full of promises and truth but God doesn't need time so that can make communicating hard. we are tied to it- He isn't. He knows, we don't. we see now, He sees always at once. so things that don't seem like prospering, things that seem full of harm, are only a part of a story that's already written. we are stuck in chapter two, and when chapter two is full of challenge, it can be hard to hold on to promises- it can be hard to call, and pray, and seek.
i asked the kids what challenges they feel. they all said being away from home. and they meant uganda. i get it. i feel it too. but there has been something in this long cold winter that has spoken to me. quietly.
time in new england is visible. palpable. its passage is written in the trees and the grass and in the light. a knowledge of things changing. of life returning. growth. awakening. renewal. things becoming restored. this is exactly where i should be now, the story outside the window gives a voice to my own story.
in looking back, because we can in time, i know there are some seasons when God does more than know and listen and be found. there are some seasons when God is more than waiting, seasons when He does the seeking and the calling and the reaching and finding. and this time, for me, is that time. i have been found. again. and when someone goes looking for you, you know in a way that you may have never fully know before, that they love you. like really, truly love you. and being loved by the one who made time and spring and everything, is huge. is enough. no matter what.
that knowing, is worth a thousand winters.
in about three months, when the world here is green again, and our skin feels good all the time, we will finally be heading back home. and from the other side of the world, we will look back to now and marvel at how time keeps on going, and wonder how it could already be august 13th. we will remember the months of snow and silence. the stillness of winter. the waiting. and the soft calling of God- who knew all along.
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