"oh home, let me come home! home is whenever I'm with you! Oh home, yes I am home, home is when I'm alone with you!"
Those are the words to the chorus of a song by Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes, and it's a quirky but quickly annoying song, so i didn't link to it. :) But I've had it weaving through my thoughts yesterday and today, as I've finally settled back in to home and am reorienting myself to a normal schedule.
For those of who you didn't know, the past month has been busy with traveling -
February 4-6: Hope Mommies Retreat in Brady, TX
February 11-12: Austin for the Sparks/Saenz wedding extravaganza
February 14: Blair left for marketing in San Marcos
February 15 - 20: I went to Dallas/Denton to see family
February 21 - 23: Blair and I both drove to Tyler (separately) for a CCCA Conference
February 24: Home for a day! Laundry. lots of it.
February 25-27: Family Camp with Kerrville Bible Church
February 27: Left Family Camp, drove to San Antonio for a Camp Fair
February 28: Home! (oh home, yes i am home...)
It's been a long month. And in my old age I'm getting very used to my homebody schedule, and feel "out of it" whenever I am not able to wake up in my own bed, brew my starbucks coffee, sit in my pajamas all day long, working from my couch for Camp Eagle and Hope Mommies.
I haven't had adequate time with the Lord and in His Word in the last two weeks, so I don't feel like I have any deep well to draw from to sum up or expand on any emotional diatribes I've had in the month of February. It's just been one of those missing months, where I know I was busy but i'm not always sure with what, and how well I did whatever it is that I was supposed to do.
So on to March!
Monday, February 28
Tuesday, February 22
somewhere in the middle of this
** I wrote this yesterday, but didn't finish, but wanted to post anyway. so here. :) **
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so worship is hard for me, right? (and by worship i mean, the beginning music set at a christian church service.) music is emotional words put to song, and christian music is emotional words, founded on truth, directed to the God of the universe. and it's just really unfortunate for me that music is always the beginning of a church service, because i'm usually a wreck by the 3rd line of the first song, and i start to check out because being in His presence is just too much for me. so by the time the sermon comes along i have a difficult time pulling back together and concentrating. I think i miss a lot of good sermons now because my brain is so blurred.
last night i went with Autumn and Justin to the Upper Room community in Dallas.
So i was raised fairly conservative, and this group is just so NOT conservative that it's a little unnerving. But last night i started to wonder if they are the group that has the courage to shout what we only whisper, to proclaim what we only hope for. (maybe. and maybe we're all wrong and in heaven we'll laugh at our elementary worship of God on earth.)
I know that everything I do, see, hear, or experience is filtered through the lens of disappointment, and great sorrow, and the weight of the knowledge of a Long-Suffering God. And it's difficult for me to be with so much joyful happiness when I am not in that place. And it's challenging for me to put a reign on cynicism, and not think, "Yes, but..." all the time.
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so worship is hard for me, right? (and by worship i mean, the beginning music set at a christian church service.) music is emotional words put to song, and christian music is emotional words, founded on truth, directed to the God of the universe. and it's just really unfortunate for me that music is always the beginning of a church service, because i'm usually a wreck by the 3rd line of the first song, and i start to check out because being in His presence is just too much for me. so by the time the sermon comes along i have a difficult time pulling back together and concentrating. I think i miss a lot of good sermons now because my brain is so blurred.
last night i went with Autumn and Justin to the Upper Room community in Dallas.
So i was raised fairly conservative, and this group is just so NOT conservative that it's a little unnerving. But last night i started to wonder if they are the group that has the courage to shout what we only whisper, to proclaim what we only hope for. (maybe. and maybe we're all wrong and in heaven we'll laugh at our elementary worship of God on earth.)
I know that everything I do, see, hear, or experience is filtered through the lens of disappointment, and great sorrow, and the weight of the knowledge of a Long-Suffering God. And it's difficult for me to be with so much joyful happiness when I am not in that place. And it's challenging for me to put a reign on cynicism, and not think, "Yes, but..." all the time.
Saturday, February 19
to MJ, BG, LJ, AF; F T
so the problem is that my brain doesn't wind down until 11:30 or so at night. that's when i can finally consolidate all my millions of thoughts into a blog post. the downside of this is that i don't get to sleep before midnight very often... at least not on my own. blair goes to bed early these days, so i usually go to bed with him, and lay awake for a couple hours. but since we're in different cities this week, i've had no one to remind me to get my butt in bed and off the computer. (miss you, handsome.)
i spent time with my nieces today. they are hilarious. we painted toes and fingers, and spent about a half hour playing with the photobooth application on my macbook. i don't have much to say, except that i've noticed a trend: good days follow hard ones, if i let them.
i spent time with my nieces today. they are hilarious. we painted toes and fingers, and spent about a half hour playing with the photobooth application on my macbook. i don't have much to say, except that i've noticed a trend: good days follow hard ones, if i let them.
merit on the left, working the comic book effect
(correction, that would be the right... i only realized this after autumn told me i was wrong... geez. that whole left/right thing is a real challenge.)
(correction, that would be the right... i only realized this after autumn told me i was wrong... geez. that whole left/right thing is a real challenge.)
blonde brynn takes the spotlight
funny faces are obviously so much more fun than smiley ones
went for a rollercoaster ride
blurry, but i got all THREE to smile. and look in the general direction of the camera. yes, be impressed.
leila was completely creeped out by this, but the other girls thought it was hilarious.
i'm thankful for my four beautiful nieces. they delight my heart.
ps. if you're wondering about my blog title, it translates: "to merit jane, brynn grace, leila joy, aidah faith. from tante." (tante would be me. and all the initials are how the girls address and sign their letters. UH-dorable.)
Thursday, February 17
a million places
My sister Autumn and her husband Justin live in a swanky old apartment building in downtown dallas. It's similar to my apartment that i had in chicago - hardwood floors, multiple paint layers on the door jams, well worn creaks. [as a side note, every time i've stayed with them i've gotten stuck in their bathroom. you can't close the door all the way due to the door jam sticking, and I inevitably forget that each time i've visited, and reach the point of crying at 3am because i can't get out. i have thankfully avoided this dilemma this time around. (house=4, erin=1)]
Being with Autumn has been refreshing for my soul. good sisters have a way of doing that, i think. I miss Blair. I wish I were with him. and at home. And i've been reminded that I'm not fully present anywhere, all the time. My mind was a million different places today. I went for a walk in the Dallas Arboretum, determined to do some listening to God rather than all the talking. Amidst the magnolia trees and gravel pathways, this is what I observed and heard:
"I am glorified in all my creation."
"I bring forth the flowers in their right time."
Beauty will spring from the dead, frozen earth.
"I will restore joy."
One day you will bring your children here, and reflect on the day when you were sitting here alone, missing your child.
"To him who has no might He increases strength."
I want to elaborate on His reminder that He restores joy. At one end of the Arboretum is a huge grassy slope that overlooks White Rock Lake. When I was about 10, my family went for a picnic to the gardens, and I remember Autumn and I rolling down this hill along with a bunch of other kids. At the bottom of the hill after a breathless roll, a boy came up to us and announced, "This is my game. I made it up!" And i remember my sister giving him a mouthful about how he did NOT make up rolling down hills. I'm not sure why this particular memory has stuck in my head all these years, but it did.
Today I laid in the grass on the hill (which was awesome, let me tell you. grass is non-existent in the hill country) and asked the Lord, "What is it that you want me to hear from You, God? I want to hear You." And I opened my Bible to Isaiah 40:6-8:
A voice says "Cry!"
And I said, "What shall I cry?"
All flesh is grass,
and all its beauty is like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
when the breath of the LORD blows on it;
surely the people are grass.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
but the word of our God will stand forever.
After reading, I laid back down to contemplate the meaning of this word at this exact moment in my life, when i heard laughter behind me. I turned around to see a small girl with curly hair and her big brother rolling down the hill. The moment was so precious to me - that I would see a repeat of a picnic day from long ago.
Even now as I contemplate on this, I see Isaiah's words blooming into meaning: Things repeat. Sorrow increases and replays. but Joy is better, stronger, and eternal. It repeats. We're just people, and we will see the same habits and stories and sorrows and joys replay in every person's life; it just fleshes out in alternate ways. but the word of the Lord stands forever.
What is the word of the Lord? It is Jesus. He stands forever. He will never change. He will always be true to His character, His actions will always proceed from it. He does not act one way toward me that He will not do for another. He is not like us, with our masquerading faces. He will show compassion, because He is the definition of Compassion. He will heal, because He is the Healer - He cannot act in a way that is contrary to His nature. He is unendingly Himself. It is not that I need Him to be compassionate, or healing, or faithful, or loving. It is that I need to have eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart that is receptive to His person. When He is fully present, I will be knocked off my feet, and overflowing in every aspect of my life.
Oh how I long for the fullness of Your presence! Give me eyes to see, Lord.
Being with Autumn has been refreshing for my soul. good sisters have a way of doing that, i think. I miss Blair. I wish I were with him. and at home. And i've been reminded that I'm not fully present anywhere, all the time. My mind was a million different places today. I went for a walk in the Dallas Arboretum, determined to do some listening to God rather than all the talking. Amidst the magnolia trees and gravel pathways, this is what I observed and heard:
"I am glorified in all my creation."
"I bring forth the flowers in their right time."
Beauty will spring from the dead, frozen earth.
"I will restore joy."
One day you will bring your children here, and reflect on the day when you were sitting here alone, missing your child.
"To him who has no might He increases strength."
I want to elaborate on His reminder that He restores joy. At one end of the Arboretum is a huge grassy slope that overlooks White Rock Lake. When I was about 10, my family went for a picnic to the gardens, and I remember Autumn and I rolling down this hill along with a bunch of other kids. At the bottom of the hill after a breathless roll, a boy came up to us and announced, "This is my game. I made it up!" And i remember my sister giving him a mouthful about how he did NOT make up rolling down hills. I'm not sure why this particular memory has stuck in my head all these years, but it did.
Today I laid in the grass on the hill (which was awesome, let me tell you. grass is non-existent in the hill country) and asked the Lord, "What is it that you want me to hear from You, God? I want to hear You." And I opened my Bible to Isaiah 40:6-8:
A voice says "Cry!"
And I said, "What shall I cry?"
All flesh is grass,
and all its beauty is like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
when the breath of the LORD blows on it;
surely the people are grass.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
but the word of our God will stand forever.
After reading, I laid back down to contemplate the meaning of this word at this exact moment in my life, when i heard laughter behind me. I turned around to see a small girl with curly hair and her big brother rolling down the hill. The moment was so precious to me - that I would see a repeat of a picnic day from long ago.
Even now as I contemplate on this, I see Isaiah's words blooming into meaning: Things repeat. Sorrow increases and replays. but Joy is better, stronger, and eternal. It repeats. We're just people, and we will see the same habits and stories and sorrows and joys replay in every person's life; it just fleshes out in alternate ways. but the word of the Lord stands forever.
What is the word of the Lord? It is Jesus. He stands forever. He will never change. He will always be true to His character, His actions will always proceed from it. He does not act one way toward me that He will not do for another. He is not like us, with our masquerading faces. He will show compassion, because He is the definition of Compassion. He will heal, because He is the Healer - He cannot act in a way that is contrary to His nature. He is unendingly Himself. It is not that I need Him to be compassionate, or healing, or faithful, or loving. It is that I need to have eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart that is receptive to His person. When He is fully present, I will be knocked off my feet, and overflowing in every aspect of my life.
Oh how I long for the fullness of Your presence! Give me eyes to see, Lord.
Monday, February 14
2.14.11
Oh Gwen.
I had plans for another post, but with Kelly's song playing in the background and Paige's recent post, the images of you laying in your NICU bed have rushed to the front of my mind and i sit, missing you.
oh baby, does God give you my letters? does He let you see me and your daddy, here missing you? does He show you what He's doing?
oh dear. here i am alone at the house, and having a breakdown like i haven't had in awhile. i've kept busy with work and hope mommies, and it's shoved my sadness into darker corners, waiting for an opening to take the limelight of my concentration.
gwen i miss you. i miss being pregnant with you. i'm envious of every young mother i see. i want to show you off. i want to see you discover your hands and how your wrists can move. i'm missing your infancy, and i'm jealous of the angels and saints. i have a week where i stay fairly busy, and have only cried a little each day, and i think, "maybe it'll work to keep going," and then in rushes you, the memory of your fuzzy head and how hopeful i was in the hospital, "maybe... maybe i will see her and her heart will have improved...maybe her kidneys will have started to work... maybe, maybe..." remembering the hope is painful. i physically ache to feel you, gwendolyn.
it's valentines day, sweetheart. although that doesn't mean very much to me, really... holidays come and go and i usually don't remember what day it is anyway. but if you were here, i'm sure i would've dressed you up in something obnoxiously pink and red, taking pictures of blair and me kissing your chubby cheeks to send out as our valentines day card.
oh sweetheart. your mom is now armed with a box of kleenex and listening to just about every depressing song that exists, so i will not drag this out. i love you. i miss you. endlessly.
happy valentine's day, sweetheart.
I had plans for another post, but with Kelly's song playing in the background and Paige's recent post, the images of you laying in your NICU bed have rushed to the front of my mind and i sit, missing you.
oh baby, does God give you my letters? does He let you see me and your daddy, here missing you? does He show you what He's doing?
oh dear. here i am alone at the house, and having a breakdown like i haven't had in awhile. i've kept busy with work and hope mommies, and it's shoved my sadness into darker corners, waiting for an opening to take the limelight of my concentration.
gwen i miss you. i miss being pregnant with you. i'm envious of every young mother i see. i want to show you off. i want to see you discover your hands and how your wrists can move. i'm missing your infancy, and i'm jealous of the angels and saints. i have a week where i stay fairly busy, and have only cried a little each day, and i think, "maybe it'll work to keep going," and then in rushes you, the memory of your fuzzy head and how hopeful i was in the hospital, "maybe... maybe i will see her and her heart will have improved...maybe her kidneys will have started to work... maybe, maybe..." remembering the hope is painful. i physically ache to feel you, gwendolyn.
it's valentines day, sweetheart. although that doesn't mean very much to me, really... holidays come and go and i usually don't remember what day it is anyway. but if you were here, i'm sure i would've dressed you up in something obnoxiously pink and red, taking pictures of blair and me kissing your chubby cheeks to send out as our valentines day card.
oh sweetheart. your mom is now armed with a box of kleenex and listening to just about every depressing song that exists, so i will not drag this out. i love you. i miss you. endlessly.
happy valentine's day, sweetheart.
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