"i don't care if you're dead. Jesus is here, and he wants to resurrect somebody." - rumi
i am here. and i want to be resurrected.
in her book, katie davis--the 19-year-old mother of 13 ugandan children--talks about one of her daughters asking if she would explode when she asked Jesus into her heart. "yes," katie told her. "you will."
i want to explode with Jesus too. with love that grows me arms to hug the world close. with compassion that gives me eyes to see the need, to not get tired of seeing. with generosity that thinks nothing of itself.
i've been reading katie's book late into the night, because she reminds me i'm not alone.
being a parent is lonely business. being a mother to someone else's children is the loneliest, and sometimes, well, many times a day, i want to quit. i want to walk away and pretend i don't care.
like friday, when i finally sat down to have my breakfast (three hours after waking), when all of a sudden one of the boys barged into the house and yelled for me. i stood up in a hurry and knocked my glass of milk to the floor and it shattered and i cried, over spilled milk. again.
so this is what it means to die. to weep until your shoulders shake and to wipe up the shards and the milk and to pick yourself up and to try again. to pour another glass. to breathe in and out and in and out, and to remember, everything is a spiritual battle. we do not war against flesh and blood.
and sometimes winning the battle is as simple as folding a child into your arms. sometimes it's folding laundry. sometimes it's hands, folded in prayer. and sometimes it's folding paper into origami cranes.
and this, i think, why God doesn't let us see his face outright. because life is about catching glimpses of him (like reflections of the sun on water) in everything we do. in all of the folding and the breaking and the breathing and the weeping. in every way in which we die, we see more of him. and the final breath on earth will pull back the curtain completely, leaving us in the presence of One who was there all along.
linking with ann, michelle, jen, jennifer and laura
How I love your words...they capture the beautiful mosaic He creates from all of our broken shards. Thank you for your transparency. It shines His glory.
ReplyDeletethank you sweet kimberly. you bless me.
DeleteEmily, I want to be folded in, to explode with His love for me, too. And I am so grateful for your reminders of the eyes He gives me to see Him, in the toils of my everyday. Bless you, friend. {And do you know that this song, that you posted on Facebook Saturday night, has become my birthday song?} :) Thank you.
ReplyDeletei love that it's become your birthday song, friend! and me too. i want to explode too.
DeleteThis, "everything is a spiritual battle"
ReplyDeleteYes. we must remember this.
amen, eyvonne!
DeleteBeautiful truth, still bruised from the battle, as always, Em. Love you, cheering for you, praying.
ReplyDeletethank you friend. cheering for you too.
Deleteso beautiful, emily. praying and knowing that we follow the One who already won. on friday i cried over spilled water. not milk. no broken glass. just a glass of water at lunch dumped on my lap by one of my broken boys. and i hid in the bedroom and cried. we'll get through today. xoxo
ReplyDeletethank you kim. it so helps to know i'm not alone. may God give us strength. xo
DeleteEmily...I love...love katie too...I got to hear her speak...I have never seen such humility from someone who is sharing about her life...well I just heard Ann too...they have the same heart. I pray with you dear sister..."i want to explode with Jesus too. with love that grows me arms to hug the world close. with compassion that gives me eyes to see the need, to not get tired of seeing. with generosity that thinks nothing of itself. “
ReplyDeleteOh yes...we do see glimpses of His face and love all around us...I just returned from the beach...His voice and Love are so clear to see and hear there.
big hugs to you...love to you sweet lady~
love you too friend. i think you share the same humility. your words always strengthen and encourage me.
DeleteDear Emily,
ReplyDeleteI do understand. It will have been eight years ago in August that two little boys from Siberia began calling me "mom" and the Lord has had me die thousands of deaths. Dying to self was an hourly process. I resented their presence for a long time, I am ashamed to say. But we kept crying out to our Father to help us walk this path He had chosen for us and He, in complete Faithfulness, has provided every bit of Grace we have needed to glorify Himself through our family. When I owned my job and allowed Him to make my "list" for the day, it freed my heart to walk it out. I know it's hard. But he always provides for His work. A huge "switch flipped" when, instead of expecting things to go the way I thought they should each day, He had me lay down all my expectations for how things would go. If something unexpected happened, it didn't upset because that was simply the next thing He had placed on my list. Surrendering the "list" made a huge difference. Hang on. What He will grow in your spirit through this season of testing is worth every bit of the struggle it costs to stay on the altar. :)
your story strengthens me, friend. you have no idea, how much it means to know you've gone through it too. thank you. xo
Deleteparenting is lovely business and not for the faint of heart...have not heard of the book, so thanks for the intro on it...you are doing well...i hope that your hubs had a nice fathers day yesterday
ReplyDeleteyou must read this book brian! you will love it.
DeleteThank you for this beauty, truth, reminding me again of what Jesus looks like. Praying for strength for you today.
ReplyDeletebless you, tessa. thank you.
DeleteI'm afraid to say that I don't think I explode with Jesus. That statement really got to me. And is it because I can't, or don't want to, or am afraid to?
ReplyDeleteLots to think about here, Emily (always).
And loving you as you cry over spilled milk.
sweet michelle, i don't think i explode with Jesus either. i explode more often with anger. but i want to explode with Jesus. and that's what counts, right? right? :)
DeleteSo many ways to win the battle. Gently and lovingly. You're beautiful, friend, even when life is hard.
ReplyDeleteI'm reading Katie's book late into the night, also. It's a gift for my niece whose heart is in India while she works to get there. I'm trying to read it before I pass it along.
you're so beautiful too, my friend. i love that you're sending it to your niece. she will find such hope in its pages.
DeleteI am determined more than ever to read this book.
ReplyDeleteWe have it.
My wife just read it and lent it out before I got the chance.
you must! it's so good.
Deleteoh that you could feel me, setting to the work of mopping the milk and shards with you friend. letting hot tears stream my cheeks for you, too. extending a hand to draw you up and into yourself. you are not alone, even in these most intimate of ordinary times. let this bloodied and worn love guide us.
ReplyDeleteyou bring me such comfort, tara. i feel your sadness, and i thank you... for joining with me in this. love you girl.
DeleteOh, miss E. -
ReplyDeleteGod's grace isn't randomly handed out in lumps and clumps, but given out as needed. Only as needed.
Prayers for you all.
Blessings.
i love what you said, here, darlene, about God's grace being organized and allotted. bless you.
DeleteGod has given you such a gift, Emily. And we all soak up the pouring out of your gift each week. But I know that your gift would not be what it is without the pain and struggles you are facing. Take heart, because He is using it for a mighty purpose in our lives and in those little ones you fold into your arms!
ReplyDeletei am taking heart from your words, dear beth. you encourage so well. love to you.
Delete"to pick yourself up and to try again. to pour another glass. to breathe in and out and in and out, and to remember, everything is a spiritual battle. we do not war against flesh and blood." Stay in the battle, friend. The race is not to the swift, but to those who persevere. The tender heart you have for your boys is a gift from God.
ReplyDeletethank you friend. love to you. xo
DeleteLooking back from all of these years, I believe that there are battles in every season of life. They look different, but it all comes down to the same thing. We take one small battle at a time and trust Him for the victory. He faithfully gives us glimpses of glory. I was thinking today that if He let us see Him in His fullness we would just be slain. He is so much more than I can even begin to imagine.
ReplyDeleteYou are a dear, sweet encouragement to me Em. You share you with such an open heart and I find a kindred spirit.
yes, i am taking courage from the small battles won. thank you dear linda. we walk this journey together.
Deleterejoice in the little battles won Emily! the stories read, the meals made- and eaten, the songs sung. I have been trying to sing more these days. Sing when I'm trying to feed 2 little moths at the same time (and forgetting my own). Sing when I'm sweeping the floor and someone runs through my piles. Sing when it's heard to breath.
ReplyDeleteRejoice when Joey tells you the hard stuff (like my hear is bleeding <3) because it means that he feels safe enough to tell you! Rejoice because you are clearly doing something right! Somedays it is easier to sing than others, somedays it is easier to rejoice than others. Thank God for those days where He meets you where you are at and gives you joy and trust Him in the lonely days that joy will come again! Everything is a spiritual battle but you are not fighting it alone! I am telling you this as much to encourage you as to remind myself!! I needed this reminder again today and am grateful for your post as I go back to cleaning up my own "spilled milk" today
i love that you are singing more, katherine! me too. it helps, doesn't it? love to you.
Deleteps. you are such an encouragement to me.
Deleteoh the beauty of your words, the beauty found here in your words. So so lovely. I know so well that feeling of wanting to weep with frustration and fatigue. I see Hope though here in your beautiful thoughts and insights. And I feel encouragement from you today. You weave story with heart in a tender and fragile way and its all so very wonderful to me. Bless you in your mothering today and tomorrow. Remembering He is there and always.... always will be is what I choose to rest on tonight... and with new mercies, tomorrow as well.
ReplyDeletehis are new mercies every morning, like you say. thank you friend. you are so good to me. xo
DeleteThat's one of my favorite Rumi quotes :) Thanks for sharing it here!
ReplyDeleteI love your reminder that if we perhaps saw the full face of God all the time, we would forget to cherish the small glimpses of God's presence all over our lives. I'm going to be taking that thought with me.
Emily, your writing is always beautiful and hope-filled. You are loved and carried in prayer during this challenging season of your life!
oh bristol, thank you. this means so much to me. xo
DeleteI love this. I don't ever think of those small things as battles won, but you are right. When I choose to hug my child instead of yell or love those rolling eyes instead of roll mine back. This is a thought that will sit with me for a while. You are so gifted and the way you see Jesus is such a blessing to me. Thank you for sharing yourself!
ReplyDeleteOh, how He makes it all beautiful. Sometimes it feels like grace just might...run out. Instead, it spills and rins into every crack and crevice--covering all. Like spilled milk.
ReplyDeleteyou model being broken and letting His beauty shine through the cracks...I am humbled...blessing to you, Em
ReplyDeleteOh friend, that last paragraph? I want to scribble it across the walls of my home. This is where we live all the time, right? Grasping on to glimpses of holy in the commonplace, finding the miracles in the mundane. They are there, aren't we? The digging for it though is hard, bloody, sweaty work and it's so easy to quit. Thank you for digging away, every day, even when it hurts.
ReplyDelete*aren't they, not aren't we. Guess it's time for a coffee refill. Yawn... ;)
ReplyDeleteand sometimes it's hard to even see a little of HIM -- because it's a smidgen of the promise...
ReplyDeletelike that photo of your son -- just a smidgen of Him in him... and it makes me wanna have him on a cracker -- too precious to be borne, huh?
go ahead a cry over spilled milk --- God gave us that too.
You are doing it --- as a wise woman once said to me when i felt I couldn't do another thing, she quipped, "Just do the next thing."
and she was right.
Smooches.