Peering In.

I drove past McDonalds this morning. In the window, I could see them -- four men scraggley with the morning but awake to the dedication of the Word and community before them. Glass separated us, but my longing didn't. Something about seeing them there recaptured this glimpse of what is good. Only the window separated them from my humbled hope, my curiosity, and my honor.

Something about that scene was a glimpse I wish I could capture and paste here in photograph form. An essay of what "it" looks like. To grow as godly men. They were of several ages, some pressed in shirts for work, some with hair a-flutter for crawling back into bed. But the alarm clock marked this holy appointment, and they came. They knew.

They knew that as godly men, that has precedence. To chase work and wives and women and wonders, all those come second. But to choose and chase God, that is where it begins. And this early morning meeting marked the declaration.

There is something about this image, these four men, that hasn't been displaced from my mind all day. Something about it drew me, draws me. It's a portrait of leaning in, of learning the lesson and practices of one "respected at the city gate" (Proverbs 31), putting and planting God and gospel deep in their heart, written on their door frames, and trained in their thoughts (Deuteronomy 6: 4-9; II Corinthians 10:5).

I drove away, in awe, in admiration. In luring wonder and grappling to gain the wisdom of the moment. It gave me hope; it gave me peace. It gave me a steady breath, assurance. Of what is to come. Of what can be. Of what is promised. Of what, oh God, is man.

^"4 Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. ⁵ Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. ⁶ These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. ⁷ Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. ⁸ Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. ⁹ Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates." Deuteronomy 6.

A Candle and Coffee.

I wrote a couple of friends this weekend, and wrote a lot on my blog. And crested a new horizon, a new sense of being. And I am thankful for that. As I wrote to one my friends just this morning:

PS -- I'm thankful for this weekend. I'm growing, and refreshing. I'm sitting here with a candle and a cup of coffee and a raspberry white-chocolate almond bar baked fresh yesterday... that is beauty, isn't it? Thank the Lord for these moments, as I thank him for you, and the gift in getting to share them with you...

So I'm cuddled here, content amidst the sliders that peer the fresh morning rain over greeting land, and breathe deeply in the stargazer lily candle, the sound of Ann Voskamps' blog, and my patient soul recruiting itself. Thankful.

Flirting With Sin.

So I've been thinking about sin, and flirting. Yes, perhaps an odd and weird combination, but I think the two are paired a lot more than what we ever realize. And I wonder how much, we flirt with sin?

Sometimes lines are black and white. Sometimes they are. And yet, we still choose to think with our head and live with our heart. How often do we listen in "just a tad" to gossip? Or snuggle "just a little" to sexual temptation? Or stir "just slightly" evil thoughts about someone?

I think I realize more and more as am I faced with seeing the grayness of the essence of sin, how important it is to train our minds to "take captive every thought for Christ" and then pray that our spirit and bodies follow. I find myself getting stronger in the battle against some sins, but falling and flirting with others more easily. The humanity of myself in it is a scary thing. No wonder the Bible says to "flee" from it, rather than flirt with it...

Becoming Wholer.

"...some sorrows in life will never go away. You learn to carry them with you in ways that enrich rather than debilitate your life, in ways that make you wise..." ~ Paula Rinehart, Strong Women, Soft Hearts, p 44.

There's a great depth and truth in this. There is a reality in this. It's the reality of this last season. This season where life has settled and the dust seems to have found it's sections of the room where it will land and stay, and in it, I find myself too settling and being able to see things lost before. (Life here = family chaos; not regular 'life').

And what it leaves me with, is looking around, and finding that real sense of loss. As some of the hurt and anger and grinding emotions dissipate between time and distance, there is a different level of understanding, and a greater level of calming loss that comes. There is a lot more thinking, through the stories, the emotions, the actual loss of my mom, rather than the hub-bub of the rest.

But in it, I am finding myself coming out wholer, cleaner, clearer. Saddened, but made new. Able to rejoin sections and patterns of life, rather than continue to amputate. To live a fuller life now in echo of loss.

Secrets.

"Secret things belong to the Lord, and future things are secret things." ~ Sara Young, in Jesus Calling: February 26.

"The secret things belong to the LORD our God..." Deuteronomy 29:29

There is something peaceful and steadfast in these words. Secret Things. Secret things are His. They are known, but they are secret. A special treasure. Waiting to be revealed. So be strong in that. Let Him hold the secrets.

Seamless Blend.

It's been a little while since I've shared a good thought... I pulled out my Ruth study again last night... and retraced my path through it, finding myself landing on a quote I had loved and underlined.

"[Ruth] was a seamless blend of confidence and humility, strength and deference, knowing what she wanted but knowing her place."

Something about this was clarity, was peace. It was such a good description of... woman. Of that balance of character, of pushing and pressing and pursuing... and pausing and praying and presence. It was that distinction of the direct connection of all levels of who we are, finding their nitch together and woven as one. It was there that I paused, nodded my head, pondered, and waited. Wondering through my thoughts and wandering through the things in my life, wondering where I stood along this teeter totter, lured so many directions, but knowing, needing, and wanting to achieve that balance...

I think, perhaps, what that balance lies in for woman, is... peace. It takes distinct contentment of life and self and God to find that kind of rest between the opposites. It takes a certain knowing of self, commitment to self, and value of self to be complete in that space. And it takes God shining strong, like piercing light through, in order to cement and guide and direct and bring that strength.

Women like this seem to release an aroma of... wisdom. They are those who grow old with depth and thought, and who others want to grow to. Others linger near them to catch what it is that has let their heart free, what has summoned them with gentle strength. Women like this can be seen, simply by the way they carry themselves. By the way they walk, they hold their head, they interact, they share, they laugh, they gesture, they love.

They are strong women, soft hearts (titled Paula Rinehart). They are Proverbs 31. They are Eleanor Roosevelt, Amy Carmichael, Catherine Marshall, Esther, Sara Groves. They are women who I call my friends. They are Love. They are Peace. They are Known. They are Woman.

Daffodils and Dogwoods.

The daffodils and dogwoods are blooming. Yellow blooms pop from bulbs beneath the white blossoms of the trees above. Even pink tulips have hedged their way along the masses of colors beginning to line the roadways. Its beautiful, renewing, restoring. Signs of life. Signs of spring.