and I wonder.....

Below is the image that has been plastered all over the planet......the image that makes my mother's heart want to tear through that crowd to get to the smirking face of that 19 year old bomber and rip him to shreds. I pray absolute and swift justice for the sake of the families.  For the sake of our country.

The pastor of the church we visited today displayed this image at the beginning of his sermon.....on forgiveness.  Too soon.  Too offensive.  Too divisive to even suggest forgiveness in this context. It wasn't your kid, pastor.  Your sister.  Your brother.  Your mother.

And then, just as I felt indignance well up in me, just as quickly as it gave rise......I "saw" in my head an image of hundreds of cars and buses making their way to Boston.  I saw thousands of people moving silently through the streets and gathering as one body, surrounding the hospital where this 19 year old boy is sitting, perhaps having felt himself to be the hero.  I "heard" murmuring of every voice in that body of people.  "God.  Almighty Maker of Heaven and Earth.  Have mercy on his soul.  Have mercy on us all."

And I wonder.......what would happen if He heard?

2 Chronicles 7:14..."If my people, who are called by My name, shall humble themselves and pray...then will I hear from heaven....and heal their land."

Hungry......no....starving

I've eaten my three little Tastykake chocolate snack cakes and had my coffee.  And I'm still hungry.  No.  Wait a minute.  I'm not that hungry; that kind of hungry.  My soul feels hungry.  And that makes me restless.  And then I start searching.  How easily, in our culture, we find ways to pacify and mask a hunger that goes beyond our biological appetite.

I find myself at a crossroads in life.  My daughter is moving away to Colorado.  Another daughter is spending the summer in California.  My youngest biological son is preparing to go off to college.  And I feel like I'm walking around having open heart surgery without anesthesia.  I want to cry at the drop of nothing.  I feel joyful at who they've become. I panic.  And I eat Tastykakes.

The career of motherhood is unique.  You sign up to work yourself out of a job.  And when you feel that time is approaching and you realize you're becoming more of an appointment on the calendar of a young, busy life rather than the center of the swirl......it leaves you sometimes whispering in the dark..."Father?  Are you there?  Hello?  What now?"

There is change on this here horizon....I sensed God telling me that back around Christmas.  And I purpose to ride the wave with my eyes fixed on my God.  I've still got life in me, dreams, visions......where to, Lord?  I've got a daddy that needs taken care of.    I want to live big and out loud and fearless.  But on days when I tremble just a little.....I've got a Tastykake in my purse.

Here goes

And so.....after years, literally years, of saying..."I'd like to write", and long before such an unheard of thing as "blogging".....and after many people in my life saying, "You should write".....here I am.

And so.....I write.  And if I write, they might read.  And that makes me have diarreah.  Because, to me, writing out loud is sort of like standing up naked on a tree stump and yelling..."Hey!  Over here!  If you don't mind, I'd like to  tell you all about myself and what I think and feel, dressed in technicolor nothing.  And when I'm done, I'd love it if you could criticize, misunderstand, smirk, or just yawn and walk away."   It's funny, isn't it?  How we all deal with life differently...some of us jump up and down to be heard.  Some of us walk along contentedly being seen or not seen.   Some of us hide.  I'm a hider.

Here's the thing though.  Hiders don't always look like hiders.  Sometimes they smile and talk and laugh and eat and take out the garbage, just like the rest of you.   And you might think, "Look at them.  Aren't they confident and secure.  We need them at our next bible study to liven things up."  And they come and drink coffee with cream and share an insight or two and  then they go and you think "Boy, I'm glad they came. How real they are!"  And yet....they hid.  Right there in front of you.

Years ago as a child when it was time for the kids' choir to get up and sing in church, I remember feeling petrified at the thought.  Ever resourceful, I devised a plan.  If I barely moved my lips, no one will notice me. Further still, on the off chance that they DID notice me, I would lip sync.  So, essentially, I attempted to be both invisible and unheard. So why get up there at all, you ask?  Because hiders want to be seen and heard.  And it scares them.  All at the same time. I wager, hiders hide because they are afraid.  Because they are ashamed.  Because they are unsure whether or not it's ok.  Just generally, is it ok?  And so you see my toe dipping ever so gingerly into those letters and forming words and laying them down on the map and seeing them float off and wondering....will this be ok?

The little choir girl has decided to stop lip syncing and just sing out.  Do re mi!