Skip to main content

Counting Down...Houses and Hearts



Three days and counting!  Soon I will be counting the hours!!  For what you ask?  Until we move into our house here in this new town!  We have been staying in a temporary rental for the last 2 and half months… complete with air mattresses, playpens,  and paper plates!  It’s not so much the living out of a suitcase for weeks that bothers me.  It’s more the being unable to really settle in… and well, I admit the little critters that seem to own this house bother me just a bit.  And maybe the dirty carpet does, too.

Ok, so true confessions of a “pocket perfectionist” (i.e. I have areas I am a perfectionist about but others I am completely disorganized!)…  I can’t stand grunge!  You know the kind when your children’s feet turn black from crawling across the carpet despite your cleaning efforts.  It has made me a wee bit crazy.  Just a tad.  Ok, I admit, I try to stay gone as much as possible, but when I am here, I am cleaning!!

And the air doesn’t work very well so you have to keep all the blinds shut to keep the place from overheating.   You have to keep the light out.   Dark and dirty is how it feels despite my cleanings.   So I run.  I try to stay busy.  Distracted.  I go to stores or to the park.  I want to be anywhere but in this place that I just can’t seem to make clean.

So I avoid the house.

And I avoid the heart.

When the pain or the gunk builds up inside sometimes it is easier to run.  Away.  So much easier than to deal with the darkness that creeps in over time.  Or the residue of pain that is layered about.  It is uncomfortable.  Uncertain.  Despite our best efforts, we just can’t make it all disappear.  So we run.  And we stay busy.  Secretly, purposefully distracted.

But eventually the busyness loses its appeal.  The frantic pace no longer charms.  And we can hear Him calling.  Calling us to come away.  To let Him into that house of the heart where only the light of His love will cleanse and only the healing that flows from Jehovah Rapha, the God who Heals,  can sweep away the wreckage left behind by mortal wounds.  Wounds that the enemy of our souls meant to destroy us, but that Jesus transforms into a display of His resurrection power. 

His Ruah, his breath fills us with Life.  And I need it.  Every day.  My house and my heart get dirty every day.  Why do I run?  Why the distractions?  I forget so quickly that His arms are holding me.  Even then.  When I am dirty.  Especially then.

And He waits so patiently.

Whispering to us to come.

To slow down.

To invite Him in with His cleansing light.

His breath of Life.

Today.

Not in three days.

No need to count the hours.

It is this hour that counts.
           





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Deafening Silence

In a single second my life has been radically altered.  My precious gift from God, sweet Makiah Kaitlyn, has gone to be with Jesus long before her time.  I know in my heart that she is happy, but my arms are so empty... my house so dreadfully quiet.  I feel at times that a horrible blackness has enveloped me.  I feel as though my insides are screaming.  I am clawing and fighting to break out of this torturous body- to escape from this oppressive reality, but I cannot escape.  The dark anguish leaps on me again and again.  It sits on my chest and presses against my very life breath.  My heart feels utterly crushed and broken- pummeled into a thousand pieces.  Life as I knew it has been shattered and the shards that are left are painful and sharp.  Cutting me as I try to walk through them.  This is the valley of the shadow of death.  How dark is that shadow! Her room is perfectly untouched.  All of the dolls in her dollhou...
Post a Comment
Read more

Toes

Outside the sky is grey and dreary.  I feel it should rain torrents today.  I think the whole earth should cry out in grief.  I feel my heart pounding in my head.  My eyes will barely open, and I think no more tears can possibly come.  Maybe I will stand in the rain and borrow the tears from the sky. I look down at sparkly pink toes, and they are lonely.  Makiah, our last Sunday together you spent the morning in bed with Mommy (because I am on bed rest).  We ate fruit loops and snuggled.  We practiced drawing your letters and painted our fingers and toes.  You wanted rainbow toes, but I didn't have the colors with me.  I promised I'd paint you rainbow toes later.  Once we were all pink you said, "I got an idea!  Let's put sparklies over the pink, and you have to do it, too, Mommy, so we can be twins!"  You are such a princess!  So pink toes became sparkly toes.  We giggled and hugged and admired our matching fe...
1 comment
Read more

Wells of Living Water

My eyes filled with tears when my mother-n-law told me of her friend's idea.  This sweet lady, whom I've never met, wanted to know if she could do something special in honor of Makiah.  She said God had put it on her heart to start a well project for her.  She would sell "living water well charms" through Operation Blessing International to raise money to build a well for underprivelaged children in a poverty stricken country.  She said when 600 charms have been purchased, a well with a permanent plaque would be built to commemorate Makiah's life.  Not only was this an amazing idea, it was linked to my daughter's heart in a way that shocked me... What this thoughtful lady could not have known was that only 2 weeks before the accident, Makiah came into the kitchen on a Sunday morning carrying her whole piggy bank.  She told me she wanted to take it all to "give to the kids who need clean water."  The preschool class at church had been raising mon...
Post a Comment
Read more