Stop "Trying". Just "Be".

Good Morning, my friend...thanks again for coming.

Yesterday, my little guy was sick (throw-up kind) and today, this minute, I'm mentally fighting off the virus. I will NOT get sick. Mind over matter...that's the way it was dealt with growing up. I'm already drinking the Ginger Ale my mother always suggested as the remedy for everything and have heavy syrup from a can of Peaches on standby should I need it (said to calm an upset stomach and cease vomiting).

I'm going to share a little thought that's been banging against the circumference of my brain (small though it be) the past few days. It involves a scenario that quite possibly my Heavenly Father brought to mind. It is also possible that I'm only "on to something" and only see part of the picture and more is to come with time and life. The third possibility is that I'm wrong!

In any case, here is the scenario that has been brought to my mind:

I'm sitting out on our front porch on a warm summer evening, listening to the last bits of ice clink against the glass I'm sipping iced tea out of. I'm watching my little guy who has just learned to master a 'two-wheeler' and is doing quite well at it, thank you very much. Pride settles in as I take delight in watching confidence almost take physical form over his countenance. What his daddy and I have so carefully tried to teach him, he is now grasping. As I observe him turning around at the end of the sidewalk (he listened! good boy! Even though he doesn't really understand yet, those boundaries are set to keep him happy & alive! I'd love him either way, but I'm sure glad he chose to listen) I also notice that other neighbors are out and about and I see Christopher waving and smiling as he zips by them. It is a sweet moment.

In a second, that sweet moment is up, as I hear the clash, crash, bam of the bike against the side walk and see my precious son pinned beneath it. As I run up to him, I see blood running down the side of his face and he looks utterly startled. As tears spring to his eyes, I stand beside him, without touching him, and say "You'll be fine, son. Just whatever you do, DO NOT cry...and if you do, you'd better take note that all these neighbors are watching you, and they know you are my son, so in order to save my reputation, you'd better take this opportunity to go and stand in the middle of the street (or go one by one) and tell them that I did a GREAT job of teaching you how to ride your bike and that I am the most loving mother you could ever ask for and with conviction, you tell them how you know I allowed this crash because I want to teach you something and that it really had nothing to do with the squirrel you tried to veer around. Assure them that you love me very much and that you'll be fine. Once you have done this, my son, we'll work on healing your wounds. Only after I see you attest to my great leadership and love, will you enter into my arms of comfort. You MUST answer answer to a watching neighborhood...yes, I know you are bleeding, but go on...talk me up. They are watching."

There it is.

That is the "vision" if you will.

That scenario, to me, represents what I feel so many (me included!) have been taught Christ expects of us. Allow me first to preface with these acknowledgements: I know we should give credit to whom credit is due, and yes, there is validity in presenting Christ to a watching world and it is especially startling and powerful to hear of the peace He gives in the darkest of moments. Of course, it will be natural to comfort others as we have been comforted. But to think He expects it and that we must "buck up" and "try" to be a good little witness, in my frail thinking, is so sad. All our Father wants to do when we are faced with the harshness of a poor diagnosis, a sudden death or any possible event that causes 'open wounds' or 'internal bleeding', all He wants to do is scoop us up and hold us and just let us cry. We do not have to talk or explain why we are hurting or how we are hurting. In times like that, it can be hard to even talk. And that is perfectly ok with our Heavenly Dad. He perfectly understand that sometimes, we're just too weak to even lift our eyes to Him. He'll just continue to rock us, wipe away our tears and in time, bring healing. Being able to trust and knowing enough to love comes as we allow ourselves to be taken care of. Only after such a loving recovery like we have never know and could hardly predict, it is only after being held in in His love that some of us will want to say..."My friend, I've just got to tell you...I never knew Love like that before" (Isn't that a song from the 80's??). For some, there is opportunity to shout it across television or radio waves, for others, it might be a perfect stranger they are sitting next to on a bench by the sea. And yet for many, it is enough to have been a beautiful experience in a horrible time that they smile at years later. After all...it was between a daughter or son and her dad. Their dad only wanted their love and trust, and even if He didn't get it, He still loved them more deeply than they could know.

Maybe...just maybe we should quit 'trying' and quit expecting and let a loving Father do what He longs to do.

We should just....be.

"Be still, and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10) New American Standard


You've kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, Each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book. (Psalm 56:8) The Message


As a mother comforts her child, so I'll comfort you. Isaiah 66:13



Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort. 2 Corinthians 1:3