Today I witnessed people carrying a friend's "mat." And it was good.
You may know the story from Luke 5:8 A paralyzed man's friends are so committed to getting their friend before Jesus that they made a way... despite obstacles.
"When they could not find a way to do this because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on his mat through the tiles into the middle of the crowd, right in front of Jesus."
Their faith moved Jesus so much that he forgave the man and healed him.
The moment that the need arose this morning, there was an instantaneous response of what are the needs and how can I help? Meals were organized, medical supplies purchased, groceries picked up, visits popped up.
No formal committee vote, no resistence. No second thoughts. Just love. Just that simple. Just that good.
I like to be around mat carriers.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Lists
My son Nathan has taken to list making lately. Each day I find pages and pages of lists scattered in his room and across the house. They might be quite short - just one or two items. They are frequently extensive - going dozens of pages in length.
The lists show what is on his mind, what he values, what he is fearful to forget.
Columns of his favorite songs, actors, activities make up some pages. Line after line of soldier phrases and battles fought long ago are assembled on note paper. "Cheats" for his favorite wii games make up another. Like little windows into his mind, I read the lists for insights into his young heart. It gives me pause.
Where are my lists? Beyond the weekly panorama of "to do" items, what reflects my longings, my passions, my gratefulness? What instruction can this mom borrow from her eight year-old's strategy?
I begin new lists today.
Lists of gratitude for all the blessings in my life. I will create columns of all that is going right in my week, not just all the challenges ahead. I will catalog the qualities that so endear me to my family, my friends, my staff. I'll call roll on all the prayers answered... and even those not.
I'll let it go on the record.
The lists show what is on his mind, what he values, what he is fearful to forget.
Columns of his favorite songs, actors, activities make up some pages. Line after line of soldier phrases and battles fought long ago are assembled on note paper. "Cheats" for his favorite wii games make up another. Like little windows into his mind, I read the lists for insights into his young heart. It gives me pause.
Where are my lists? Beyond the weekly panorama of "to do" items, what reflects my longings, my passions, my gratefulness? What instruction can this mom borrow from her eight year-old's strategy?
I begin new lists today.
Lists of gratitude for all the blessings in my life. I will create columns of all that is going right in my week, not just all the challenges ahead. I will catalog the qualities that so endear me to my family, my friends, my staff. I'll call roll on all the prayers answered... and even those not.
I'll let it go on the record.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Unsustainable
Alone.
In a sea of people. In a whirlwind of things to do. In the midst of all that is.
I am struggling with feeling alone.
This is not a new feeling for me and one that I have over time come to embrace...usually. But over the past couple weeks, not so much welcoming of the feeling as floundering in it. The imagery of me treading water is surfacing, literally.
As someone who moved so often as a youth that I could attend four high school reunions this year if I wanted; as someone who extroverts so much in my work that it wears me out; as one who frequently asks for (and gets) the mountain... I am perplexed by this somewhat sudden, visceral response.
Interestingly (to me anyway), this is also the closest I have felt in my connection to God. My utter dependence on a loving Father to hold me in the palm of His hand and "shhhhh" my fears.
My life, as is, is unsustainable. I need a replenishment strategy.
In a sea of people. In a whirlwind of things to do. In the midst of all that is.
I am struggling with feeling alone.
This is not a new feeling for me and one that I have over time come to embrace...usually. But over the past couple weeks, not so much welcoming of the feeling as floundering in it. The imagery of me treading water is surfacing, literally.
As someone who moved so often as a youth that I could attend four high school reunions this year if I wanted; as someone who extroverts so much in my work that it wears me out; as one who frequently asks for (and gets) the mountain... I am perplexed by this somewhat sudden, visceral response.
Interestingly (to me anyway), this is also the closest I have felt in my connection to God. My utter dependence on a loving Father to hold me in the palm of His hand and "shhhhh" my fears.
My life, as is, is unsustainable. I need a replenishment strategy.
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