I recently traveled for six days without my family and have been home for a little over two weeks. It has taken every bit of that, now home—holding, listening, playing, going for walks, and generally just being together—to restore us back into our rhythms, heal us, to one another.
It is a wild, and intensely privileged, position to get to be loved. We pick up where we leave off, but if there is an opening, to keep a minute, to just be, that’s what my children (and husband!) choose every time. I am instructed in the way of love by them.
After a big trip I need to make space to tuck myself away a little too. It wasn’t in my top ten most desired ways of it, but this week, the flu provided just the get-away. (groan)
These needs swirling around inside made for an honest conversation within myself however, considering the way the Eternal One has entered into time, chose to spend time, to soak an entire life, not just sacrifice once. In the full humanity of Jesus the fullness of God lived a life of humility, because He wanted to. These thoughts expand my brain capacity so hard.
To know that the God of the universe, wants to dwell with us still, be a place for us to curl into, to become—I feel this must be everything and that I stand with everything to learn.
“I slept, but my heart was awake. A sound! My beloved is knocking.”
-Song of Songs 5:2
If we want a minute, just to be together, He’ll do it. What an unexplored invitation to companionship this is in my life. Last week I wrote about that uncomfortable place where we can say what is true. Not hatefulness, but rather brave-loving-truth that invites staying-awhile, love-that-is-patient.
But here’s what I have needed to learn in this process: I can’t do that for others until I can see this generosity has surrounded me every day of my life. Spring tells this story of abundance so well, so do my children.
To be unafraid both of my weaknesses and my strengths, to enter the space where courage and humility become one, nourish and carry each other to new heights, that’s where I heal and become a healer.
I’ve always had these romantic notions in my head of things to come: a once and for all sacrifice—not a daily one, a far and away adventure—not a home one, a spicy and operatically high romance—not an earthy, oceanic, one. Why? Why would I not desire descriptors such as daily, home, earthy, and oceanic?
Well, I’m learning there are good reasons for even these, that I can accept these things about myself as part of the story I get to live. But I also hear the invitation to learn the other part of the story. The one I can’t fully know on my own, the one I have to curl in for a bit to hear.
I wanted to write about redemption and resurrection last week with it being the week of Passover and the Passion, but I am not disappointed the way that this story has taken on flesh and is working it self out into our days…I’m more sure than ever now that this is what Jesus meant by living here, dying, and resurrecting: He meant that we can too, over and over, in everything, in every day, in every way.
“The yearnings are our own, but the answer is His. Beyond all mystery is the mercy of God. It is a love, a mercy that transcends the world, its value and merit. To live by such a love…”
-Abraham Joshua Heschel, God in Search of Man, pg. 162
May love-that-is-humble-and-courageous be the most clear-sighted thing we see today. Watching with you, and so grateful you are traveling with me, following together where Mercy leads…
Hello! I’m Raynna, and I’m glad you’re here. Say hello in the comments and tell me something about you? I’d love that.
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