Waiting

This has been a season of     w a  i  t   i   n g.

for daddy's health test results.

for job applications.

for phone calls. 

for emails.

for responses.
for answers to prayers.

In all this waiting, I have grown restless--inexplicably so.

In this strangely difficult period of somuchfreetime, God has been teaching me:

1) I am so awful at resting. Not just physically but spirituallymentallyemotionally.

2) I am full of myself and a taste of humble pie once in a while will do me much good.

3) He is worthy of worship--a worship not contingent on my circumstances.

Because while I simply want to do do do,  He simply i s. 

In the crushing cries of rejection and dejection,
I hear His sweet whisper

“Be still, and know that I am God;I will be exalted among the nations,I will be exalted in the earth.”
-Psalm 46:10

Lord, teach me to be still.

So so very still.

September Rain

[Saturday early afternoon]

[gentle whirl of the ceiling fan]

[the quiet static from the radio blending with orchestral harmonies]

It's not until mom puts down her knife on the cutting board

and looks up when I see what catches her sudden attention outside.

The kitchen window starts to blur and I see water droplets already sliding down the screen.

Rain. A drizzle that soon picks up the pace to a steady pouring. 

Mom, still with her apron on, gasps before quickly opening the back door.

Barely getting her sandals on, she rushes out into the falling rain. 

Confused, I call out to her to grab an umbrella. 

Without looking back, she yells, "the neighbor's car window is open. I need to tell them!"

Before I know it, she's already past our lawn and making her way across the street.

Minutes later, she comes back wet and defeated.

No one is home.

My moment of frustration with her getting wet quickly melts as I see her heart.

That moment then turns into a humble rebuke because she has seen what is greater.

I assume she did all she could and expect us to resume our work in the kitchen.

And yet, she is not done. 

She is back in the garage now and rummaging through our items.

Her face lights up when she finds the family tent, and I know what she's thinking.

This time, though, she invites me to join her.

We unzip the bag and unfurl the thin grey waterproof covering. 

We walk back out into the rain and cover the car with our makeshift car blanket.

Excited, we laugh about how confused our neighbors would be upon their arrival.

I look back to see mom, even more drenched in rain, smiling contentedly.

And once again, I'm reminded how blessed I am to call her my mother.

“Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor."
-Romans. 12:10

Clinging On

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, 

so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope." 

-Romans 15:13