I carry your heart with me

I carry it in my heart.

Anywhere I go you go, my dear...

I want no world

for beautiful you are my world, my true.

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart.)

                                                            e.e. cummings

I'm dressed for the pool when out of nowhere, one of our summer afternoon thunderstorms hits, delaying  my lap session. So I wait, determined to work in my mid-week exercise. I later realize, exercise is not the priority, Jesus is! I finally slip into the water an hour before closing, as a young substitute lifeguard from a distant pool arrives and takes the stand.  Just Qaazi and me... It's clear to me that he wants to tell his story and because I'm the only one in the pool, I'm the obvious audience. I swim a few laps and while resting, he shares details. Qaazi, a bright  Pakistani teen, tells me about his school, his college plans, his secret girlfriend. More laps and rest. He shares about his whole family and BOOM, announces that he's an atheist! And for a second punch, is all for abortion. (But rejects the Big Bang ???) Perhaps, he is testing me for a reaction,  which he does not receive.
I swim a few more laps, praying for an opportunity to share my faith. Qaazi softens. He pours his complicated relationship with his family and religious leaders; He hates the rules, he hates the hypocrisy. There's my opening. So I agree that I too would have to reject his parents'  Allah and the burden of earning my after-life. I speak tenderly about my Jesus who also detested the hypocrisy of Pharisees and who lovingly came from Heaven because following the rules could not get us one inch closer to life with our Creator. Relationship not religion...my only message. Qaazi listens without debate. There are no more laps on this day, just love for a young seeker.
Lessons learned:
God ordains our days. An earlier trip to the pool? No conversation!
A new appreciation for immigrant students making sense of two cultures
One must cast off false gods in order to fully embrace the love of the One and Only.
Like my pastor always says, the world has come to our city. We are "foreign" missionaries on our own soil.
I probably will never see Qaazi again on this planet, but I'm praying I'll see him in Paradise. I ask God to reach him whether by ordinary or miraculous. Qaazi is on a journey and I want him to know my wonderful God
Perhaps you will join me in asking.

Credit: Steve Schroeder

      I'm surrounded by growing paper piles this rainy Monday afternoon. New policies need to be compared, supplemental ones considered...my concentration wanes. All I can think about is life before cancer, the sweet, easy time when we compared restaurant options and travel destinations...together! 
I took care of my duties and Rob tackled his. Now that I'm responsible for both, I'm deeply grateful for all that he shouldered, especially the business decisions. Rob was a selfless provider who made life better for his family.  I added to our income, but without Rob we would have starved.  Because he fought the Katy Freeway traffic and accumulated frequent flyer miles most every day of his adult life, I was able to enjoy my children's lives without the added exhaustion of another full-time job. It's only now that I realize the length of his list. It was very long and he completed it without a word of complaint. (I can't say the same for myself.) I'm forever thankful for his devotion to his family's needs. Not one child left college with a debt burden, when the economy declined, he worked wherever there was opportunity, and he made sure we would live comfortably if "in the event."  Rob laid down his life for us.  On this rainy day, I'm reminded that his kind of love is rare; I shall not forget.  
Rob, I'm so proud of you!  I love that you are resting from the hard things of life. Thank you for caring so much about us.

   

Steve's original photo is stunning. My attempt to scan it does not do it justice. Thank you, friend, for this beautiful treasure. 

Larksong has been quiet lately. I've never written regularly; it seems silly to write when there's  nothing worthy to record. I'm still keeping a journal of lessons learned, just refraining from making them public.
Four years ago our cancer nightmare began. Ever since I've been fighting to keep going, even as the losses continue to mount. (There's a lot of collateral loss with the death of a dear one.) Currently I find myself flat on my spiritual back; one too many losses.
I hurt...I hurt deeply.
I keep trying to pick myself up, but it's always a futile, temporary fix.
I found myself sitting in an old Catholic Church in the country the other day, staring at a plaster statue of Jesus, asking for this crazy pain to STOP!  Imagine, pleading with a statue. Well, my eyes were opened. Sitting in the silence, I realized  I've been running to the temporary for a very long time.
I've been ashamed, too proud to bare my weakness, my growing grief.  I've wanted others, including Jesus, to see a brave, strong survivor; I've tried to shield myself from pity. But it's been a lie; I've been wearing a huge, crumbling mask. I'm not brave or strong. Not at all!
 There is only one place to really run with my pain. Straight to Jesus, the real Jesus, not a substitute icon or activity or dream.  Is there anyone else out there, struggling with a heap of hurt? If so, I gladly risk embarrassment or disapproval. Join me in disowning it; let's hand it over!
So the real lesson I'm learning this season...
Pain is real.
It might last a lot longer than we want.
Leave it in the hands of Jesus.
We may find ourselves continuously releasing our hurt; it's not a one time thing.
I am not really sure what giving over looks like at this point. I just know that my arms can't hold all of this loss.
But I know the One who wants to carry my pain.
I'll be sitting in the quiet a lot in the days to come, letting this hurt leak, trusting Him as He wipes away every tear.

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” Matthew 11:28-30
   

After a very bumpy week....

Things I have learned this week: Wisdom is trusting God even when most of the puzzle pieces go missing,* God permits what He hates to accomplish that which He loves,* and after yesterday's scary brush with a disturbed woman breaking into my car, now I can breathe and I feel Grace rush over me!**

*Joni Eareckson Tada, **vintage Plumb

Things I've learned this week: faith is really a lifetime of deliberate, sometimes scary steps of trust, I'm learning to resize my giants*, and on a lighter note, I'm hopelessly untrendy and okay with it. 
"Your giant may be big, but your giant is not bigger than Jesus." Louie Giglio

Things I've learned this week: the struggle between "what if" and "what is" continues, my failure is not fatal *, I never want to be in a single generational fellowship!
* from a Duane Brooks's Sunday sermon
Struggling with failure is really an issue of pride, an area of my life I've lately asked Him to reveal to me. He's doing a pretty good job. What if I look like a total idiot? Pride!
 I've been pondering about the blessings of serving with multiple generations. Littles have a lot of hugs to give, their parents crave encouragement, seniors (oh that's me!) need to be wanted...and hugged by littles!