An Unexpected Journey

There are little teeth that need brushing in our house again.  I dig under the sink for Makiah's toothbrush holder.  I pull it out to wash it and then look inside.  There on the bottom is that dried up toothpasty stuff that drips off of used toothbrushes.  And I stop still.  I stare with eyes wide.  I can't wash it away.  It is gross, but it is evidence of her here.  Of the realness of a little girl whose mermaid toothbrush dripped wet every morning and night.  Proof that she really lived with us and laughed with us and was tangibly here with us.  So I put it back. Later I am looking through her hair bows to see if any will work with the twin's fine, baby hair.  I pull out a tiny, pink bow with a heart.  There is blonde hair still hanging from the clip.  What should I do with these traces?   I can't wipe them away.  Not now.  I put the clip in a special place and give up on my hair bow hunt.  It ...

I have been reading the story of how God brought the Hebrews out of Egypt and into the desert while they were en route to  the promised land.  I am not trying to make any great theological point or draw a particular parallel with my own life...  I am merely making observations.  What strikes me is that He took them to the desert on purpose.  The people had left behind all the structure of their normal lives (albeit many were slaves), but even the houses and land they had lived in for 400 years was gone.   It is uncomfortable for us to leave behind our personal routines, whether they brought pleasure or pain.  They wandered in the desert,  lived in tents,  and ate the same cakes of manna three meals a day every day.   All as a part of God’s plan. Alone.  Their routines, food, houses, and neighbors were gone.  They had no knowing of where they were going.  And yet, they were not alone.  They had God hims...

For more than a year before Makiah died, I would wake up near dawn most mornings and sense that God wanted to spend time with me.  This was a big deal for me because I would feel wide awake, heart beating, and I am NOT a morning person by any stretch.  I thought of it as "the love call."  I would sit on the back porch drinking my steamy mocha and reading "Jesus Calling" while pink and orange waves of sunlight peeked over the horizon.  Surrounded only by chirping birds and a silence that envelopes the soul with peace, I would sip and meditate on scriptures.  Occasionally, I would whisper a prayer, but mostly those morning minutes were just about "being" with the One who woke me up with the love call.  Maybe you have heard it, too... I think now that the call was so clear because those mornings were building in me something vital to my survival.  I was on the verge of plunging into the deep darkness that is the shadow of death and the shredding of hear...