To Be Like a Raindrop

For eight straight afternoons and evenings violent thunderstorms have possessed the sky over my house with terrifying beauty. The rain falls sometimes soft and silent, sometimes hard and gushing, singing a melody as it falls from the black clouds to nourish then disappear. The lightning bursts forth with pulsating power in its own time, unpredictable, always shocking the senses, nearly always followed by deafening thunder which shakes the very foundations. I watch these storms, letting all my senses absorb the show of power until the clouds move on to the east to expend themselves there.

I am reminded that my call in life is to be like one of those raindrops, always moving lower to nourish, then mysteriously to be invisibly lifted up by the son to do it again. Often I am called to move lower as relational electrical storms rage around me. Jesus said, "...whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must by your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." (Matt. 20:25)

Most often I fail in this call to give myself. I lack both the courage and the power to continually seek the low place the way a raindrop does.

Just last weekend I had a particularly bad time with one of my step kids and spent the next day busying myself as a way of avoiding him. It was at the end of that day that my stepdaughter sought me out to ask "How do you be so nice to B-- when he is so mean to you?" I almost laughed out loud at the irony of her timing. After a moment I mumbled, "I pray- a lot." I think God was trying to get my attention, again. The words that I heard come out of my mouth were to instruct me more than to answer her. I was reminded of a section in Hannah Hurnard's  wonderful feast of a book, Hinds Feet on High Places.

"Come, oh come! let us away--/Lower and lower every day, Oh what joy it is to race/ Down to find the lowest place ...it is only up on the High Places of Love that anyone can receive the power to pour themselves down in an utter abandonment of self-giving."

I pray that God will help me, and you too, climb to the "High Places of Love" with him and give us the "power to pour ourselves down in an utter abandonment of self-giving."

Mister Twister

These past two months have been a roller coaster ride of highs and lows, the death of a close family member on one hand, a two week long escape with my husband on the other. There have been more mundane, yet emotional twists and turns too. My high school daughter sat on a plane on the tarmac in Guatemala for hours while she missed her connecting flights and her chance to attend her own high school graduation the next morning seemed to slip away. Fortunately, the flight eventually took off, she was able to slide into one of the last 2 seats back that night, and even caught a few hours of sleep before donning her cap and gown.  My older daughter graduated from college the same month my youngest finished high school. Like a rider on the jerky old wooden "Mister Twister" ride at our local amusement park,  my emotions jerk back and forth from effervescent joy over the great accomplishments of my daughters, to a feeling of loss because of the inevitable changes ahead as they each begin a new stage of life farther away.

My step kids take turns swinging, without warning, from friendly to hostile and back again. My level of frustration climbs and falls wildly along with them. I feel a bit shaky after these crazy weeks, the way I feel when I get off a roller coaster somewhat exhilarated, but also a bit dizzy and nauseous.

Thank you for your patience as I have been away living my crazy life instead of thinking and writing about it. I hope to post on this blog biweekly through the rest of the summer. 

For now, I am here, firmly buckled into my seat in life, the twistiest, wildest, ride ever.

"Life shouldn't be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather, to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly shouting, 'Wow! What a ride! Thank You, Lord!'" --Beth Moore