Latch on to Me

Nursing my children was one of the most beautiful parts of my early days of motherhood.  Not that it
came naturally for my loves and I.  It took time for this art to be established.  But it was time that was more than worth the effort and patience put into it.

With my son, it became clear that it was more than just nourishment he needed. He was not the happiest of babes.  I always said that Cam didn't like being a baby; the more mobile he got, the happier he became.
But in those early months, he seemed to just need to be close to me.  Countless times my husband, with crying son in arms would hand  him to me and say, "He wants you.".  To which I would reply, "But I just fed him!"  I would then take this screaming baby in my arms and move to the couch to nurse.  Even though I knew what he needed, he would often continue his protest making it difficult for him to latch on. Eventually, his heaving little body slowed to a calmer place.  Yet at times, out of nowhere, he seemed to remember that which had previously upset him so, and would cry out.  And I would pull him close to my breast and gently speak, "It's okay...you're ok....shhhhh.".  I knew that as long as he remained latched on to me, he would be peaceful.  I could provide all that he needed in that moment.

El Shaddai, one of the names given to God means, "All Sufficient One". 

I remember being fascinated as I listened to my spiritual director teach on the fuller meaning of this  

All Sufficient One.  

She explained  El Shaddai  as being the most feminine name for God.   

"shad" refers to a woman's breast with the idea of power and blessing and bounty pouring forth.  A baby, as we know, needs to be at his mother's breast--it's a place of safety, provision, sustenance.  

El Shaddai provides moment by moment.  

El Shaddai pours forth or sheds forth provision.  

God is like a breastfeeding mother.  

He loves in a way no other can.  

It is as though He is pleading, 

 "Press into Me and you will be fine."  

"Snuggle into me and circumstances will become almost inconsequential" 

This morning I saw myself...a daughter of God and one who so desperately needs my El Shaddai.  But too often I worry myself into a state or seek comfort in other ways, when all the while God is waiting for me to latch on to Him.  And though I may drink in His provision one moment, I find that very quickly life can change and I pull away, overcome with fear or pain or confusion; crying out once again.  But He too is patient and speaks soothingly to His beloved child...

 

"Latch on to Me...

Snuggle into Me"

This morning I journeyed through the day in my mind, aware that  in the increments of the next 24 hours, I needed only to latch on to Him and I would be safe.  

All I could possibly need would be supplied by my El Shaddai.

 

The Resting Place

The Dance

 "I'm overwhelmed.

My biggest downfall is my brightest blessing,

I feel too much,

all the time.

Ya God,

if it's keep my heart soft,

break my heart every day."

--Author Unknown

Every once and awhile I enjoy the freedom of being me.  I want to be careful not to sound like life is

a constant struggle of being unable to appreciate who God created me to be.  But to enjoy the freedom of

who I am seems another level for me.  Especially when it comes to the crazy world of emotions.  

As the above quote says, "I feel too much, all the time...".  Oh yes!!!  This is me, and although there is a gift in being so fully aware emotionally,  there is also this crushing weight which overwhelms me.  Very little escapes my eyes.  I don't even need to talk with you to know if you are hurting.  If you wear your emotions on your sleeve I only need see you out of the corner of my eye and feel the pain spill all over me.  All of my conversations contain an energy of focus that tires me.  And it's not even a matter of consciously seeking to be attentive; it's just there.  It's like breathing; it's so much a part of who I am.  I can never just walk away and leave you and your pain.  I am left with the residue of heartache or difficulty you have shared with me.  

That God in His wisdom gifted me with gifts of mercy and encouragement and helps is doubtfully not an accident.  But really now...  I wonder if He somehow got distracted when He knit me together in my mother's womb and overdosed on the feeling part!!  

And so I live this cycle of strength and weakness it seems.  I spend too much time with the hurting

and I myself start hurting.  So I pull back and rest until I'm ready to reach out again. And round the cycle goes.  

But I've never like this word "cycle".  I hear a negative connotation when I refer to it as such.  

I'm wondering if it isn't more like a dance.

There's a beauty to this dance of mine.  I come to the dance floor with God and I move with His grace into the dance with you.  I ease into step with you whose feet are tired and aching and together we move through the moments.  Eventually, the dance slows and we part.  By now, I too walk with weary feet.  And I need to sit out the next dance or two til He strengthens me again.  And I'm starting to think that this is ok.  This is who I am.  Yes, there is a broken way of living in me, I know this all too well. " God knows my frame; He knows what I am made of." (Psalm 103:14)  This too is freeing.  

To dance with all of who I am is a joy for me. I love to give myself to you.  And yet to sit out a dance or two should not be failure, but rather a necessary and beautiful time of renewal.  No one can dance forever, and though I may need more rest than another, does not place me as "less than".  Instead it highlights my Creator who made each of us unique.

Today I'm sitting out the dance.

 

The Resting Place

"We rest on on Thee our Shield and our Defender

We go not forth alone against the foe

Strong in Thy strength; safe in Thy keeping tender

We rest on Thee and in Thy name we go."

The Resting Place

 

Inspired by a dear friend and fellow blogger, and with the creative desire to bring something fresh to this blog I am adding a new feature entitled "The Resting Place".  I plan to publish it on Saturday's.

It is no surprise that our days are often busier than we would like, more challenging than we had planned, or painful, confusing, wearying,etc.  Typically, we think of the weekend as a time to unwind, rest, and experience renewal.  I'm not sure this has been accomplished by Monday morning, but we do desire this.  As Christ followers, we are commanded to set an entire day aside for rest. Clearly, our Creator knew how desperately we would need this.

"The Resting Place" is designed to provide a moment or two of reflection, whether it be visual or literal. My prayer is that this place will be a blessing to many and perhaps even move you to set aside times for deeper rest and refreshment.

Of Onions and Layers

"Solitude eventually offers a quiet gift of grace,

a gift that comes whenever we are able to face ourselves honestly;

the gift of acceptance,

of compassion,

for who we are

as we are."

--Parker Palmer

I love onions...especially red onions.  And because I am also a connoisseur of salads, I add a plentiful amount of onion to be enjoyed, at least by me!  Onions are one of those vegetables with layers of skin to be peeled back.  It's almost a race for me to see if I can peel it, slice and chop it before it makes me cry. I never seem to win this race and instead find myself dashing to another room to give my eyes a chance to stop the stinging tears.

The journey to the deeper places of my soul has layers also.  Being a perfectionist, I'm always naively hopeful that this will be the last one.  That now that God and I have unmasked another face of my false self, I will truly be free to live as God created me to live; with freedom and joy.  But this is just not my reality.  Much to my dismay, eventually another layer is noticed and I begin the process all over again.  And often, there are tears, laments, discouragement.

This time I find myself responding in the way that Parker Palmer offers--with
"the gift of acceptance, of

compassion, for who we are as we are."   

This is truly a gift and one only made possible because I sense more and more that this is how God responds to me.  Not that He accepts my sinful ways, but He is fully aware that I am inherently sinful.  It is only His grace that affords me a hope of transformation and one day wholeness.  Sitting in His presence with my self laid bare is becoming a safe and restful and freeing place to be.  I can name the layer that has just been exposed and know that this is not a surprise to Him; rather, He has been patiently waiting for me to be quiet long enough to recognize it and allow Him to peel back yet another layer.

I've been spending time the last couple of days  in Psalm 139.  I have always loved that I am never beyond the eyes of God, the presence of God, the care of God.  What I noticed with new eyes was this--

God is"...intimately acquainted with all my ways."

Psalm 139:3b

All my ways...all the ways I try to manage my image...all the ways I try to defend what I do or don't do...all the ways I try to measure up and please others, and God.  All my ways.  He is intimately acquainted with them.  His intimate knowing of me brings rest for my soul.  He knows me as I am and in that knowing I am experiencing a love and a grace to continue the journey of self-discovery, of healing, or transformation.

Who Am I?

Even as I sit to write in this moment, I find my mind as empty as the page before me.  Or perhaps it's that there is sooooo much that is swirling around that I can't quite slow it all down to put it into words.

A friend and fellow blogger was writing the other day about her silent pages over the past months, and her desire to change that has sort of tweaked my desire. 

It's not that my life is boring or devoid of anything exciting.  At least to me it's not that way!  On the contrary, these past months have been overflowing with change and wonder and joy.  One can't quite move a daughter to the other side of the country without life taking on a new face.  And maybe this is part of it.  Late spring and the entire summer seemed like a surreal kind of race to the finish line--the all encompassing move.  I never could get a grasp of the new reality that was ahead of me.  It seemed an impossibility for me to pursue a new way of living without my girl nearby.  But she's been gone now almost a month and reality is slowly sinking in yet not in the way I would have expected.  Her being gone and me being here seems so right and good.  Not that I don't miss her, because I do, but I know she's supposed to be where she is.  She has fallen in love with her new home, forged strong friendships already, and is living life with a sense of freedom and happiness and delight that she never has before.  She's thriving, and I have never seen her thrive!!!  I am over the top grateful for God's gracious favor to her.  How could I want her back here when "there" is so beautiful for her soul???!!!!

So where does that leave me?  I'm not totally sure...ha,ha.  It seems a contradiction to say that I am content with my life here and yet am not exactly sure of who I am at this point in time.  It's interesting how empty nesting has taken on a more succinct flavor with a few thousand miles between us.  Even though she hasn't lived at home for 2 years, she has lived in close proximity which mean a continued reliance on me in varying forms.  That option no longer exists.  I can't just run to bring her home for an appointment, or the night, or whatever.  The tangible nature of our relationship is close to nil and this gives to me a sense of freedom that is new and  yes, welcoming.  My mothering role has changed again and though I am not rebelling against this, I'm just not sure what it all means.  This morning I sat quietly with God asking Him this very question..."Who am I?"  And once all of the "noise" of my thoughts stilled I could hear Him say simply and clearly..."You are a daughter of God."  In Christian circles this is supposed to be a no brain er, but I find it's far too easy to attach titles and roles to ourselves and thus squelch our true, and only identity.  But this morning, that all seemed stripped away and I was "only" --"a daughter of God".  And I felt peace and contentment and a safety in these gentle words from Him.

It's all I need for today.

Only Him...

It's so not what I expected...not even close!

Four months ago when her acceptance came through to a university across the country I couldn't grasp the thought of letting her go.  And as the time sped by I was sure I would be close to the fetal position physically and emotionally by now. 

For twenty years I have poured my soul into this daughter of mine.  I have nurtured her and encouraged her and cheered her on.  I have given so much of myself to this uniquely and masterfully created human being.  My heart, I'm sure has scars from bearing the pain and heartache she has shared with me over the years.  I have walked alongside of her and loved her...to the moon and back and quite honestly miss her almost as soon as she walks out the door.  No part of me ever imagined living time zones apart!

And yet, my pouring into her was so that ultimately she could grow "away" from me.  Away from "needing" me to walk through life.  Away from needing me beyond what was healthy.  Away into a life of her own and into dreams and adventures and a place in life crafted just for her.

And now, with our goodbyes so close at hand, I am struck with amazement that I have a measure of calm and a spirit of excitement for all that lies ahead for her.  It's so not what I expected!!!  How could I possibly respond to a farewell that is so enormous with peace???!!!!

Only, if my heart is held and prepared by the One who knows me through and through.  

Only if I am seeking and pressing into the One who nurtures and encourages and cheers me on.  

Only if I and resting in "the God of angel armies who is always by my side".  

Only if I continue to run to Him who bids me, "Come to Me...."  for all that I need.

Only if I truly believe that "His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me."

Only if I am convinced that my girl is safe within His strong arms.

Only this gracious, merciful God could possibly saturate me with His "peace beyond understanding" 

so that I can move through these last days with strength and grace.

"What shall I render to the LORD

for all of His benefits to me?"

Psalm 116:12 

Trust...Enjoy...

"Come to Me.
Come to Me with all of your hopes and dreams and fears for this next season of life.  Lay it all at My feet and leave it there.  Trust that My good is good for you also.  Trust in My transforming power for Ashley's life and your life.  Be at rest even now as this present season draws to a close.  Enjoy these full days of living in the in between.  I am still here.
Give robust thanks for the past two years.  It was My gift to both of you that you would live in close proximity.  Keep enjoying it!  Stretch out open hands to Me and trust My perfect giving to you and taking from you.  Breathe deeply of now.  Trust fully for then.  "Your times are in My hands."  Psalm 31:15
Come to Me.  Rest.  Trust.  Enjoy.  I am here.

Come to Me

"Come to Me.
Come to Me with the instability of your life.  It is always changing.  It was never my design for it to remain unchanged.  Rather, I have ordained a 'time for everything'--seasons.  Some of these seasons you will enjoy to the full and never wish for them to end.  Some you will struggle through and question...face insecurities and pain.  This is why your eyes need to be fixed on Me. I am your sure foundation.  You need to feast on My word daily and meditate on it throughout the hours.  I do not give you all the answers you would like to have, but I do give you what you need.  Trust that what you don't know is safely kept by Me for divine reasons--that which you could not understand.  Remember, I am God and you are not.
I love You with an everlasting love.
You are safe in Me and with Me."

Grace for Today

I remember those early days of her life, waking in the night to feed her.  She would invariably fall asleep and I would go about the task of trying to wake my Sweet Pea.  I would tickle her feet for starters but often resorted to undressing her down to her diaper.  The lack of warmth would soon find her eyes opening ready to drink a little more.  She was completely dependent on me.  I relished in the gift I had been given of nurturing and caring and loving this brand new person.

These are days of remembering.  My Sweet Pea turned 20 on Monday.  She's become a beautiful, young, increasingly independent young woman.  So much so that in less than two months, we will fly her across the country to begin her 3rd year in a new university.  And though the future is completely unknown, I have no expectations of her returning "home" to live.  I expect that she will make her own life and home in this new part of our country.  A big part of me even believes that she needs this.

It's been a long time since I was her sole nurturer.  It's been gradual, her growing independence and my letting go.  She hasn't even lived at home for the past two years.  And yet this gigantic move is another letting go, another opening of my arms to bless her and yes, to grow in excitement with her for this fresh horizon.

Did you hear that?  I AM growing in excitement with her.  She can hardly wait to get on that plane!!!  I have never seen her more confident and calm about a decision; and this one is life-changing!!  I am so very happy for her and the generous ways God is bringing this all to fruition.  But this doesn't mean there isn't a place of mourning in my heart.  This is my baby girl!!!   I shared with a friend recently of my roller-coaster emotions and she responded with the most beautiful, gentle, godly wisdom.

"Ah yes...Letting go...One moment we are training and preparing our children for all their lives, then we realize that we forgot to prepare our own hearts for this moment!  The best I can tell you is, the circumstances will change, but she will always be your little girl and you will always be her mama and you will never stop relating to each other in that way.  In a sense, it is somewhat like my cancer journey...I cannot see what lies ahead, nor do I have the grace now for what lies in future days, but God does give me the grace for today and this is the day in which I need and want to live.  I will ask God to give you today's grace and to enable you to live fully in each day He gives you, trusting that He will give you the grace for those days that lie ahead exactly when you need it."

Sigh.

I love her words for so many reasons.  First, they are heartfelt in that all three of her children live across the country.  She's seasoned in this.  Second, her cancer journey makes her words so powerful...this was no glib response.  And third, she has pointed me to God--El Shaddai--the All Sufficient One who pours forth nourishment--who provides moment by moment daily need.

Ecclesiastes speaks of "a time for everything".  I suppose my love for this passage stems from the ways in which I feel life's seasons so deeply.  Solomon's words allow me the freedom to speak of that which my heart is experiencing. 

God's grace for today.

God's grace for all the tomorrows.

A restful place.