I have to assume there are some likenesses to Heaven and Earth.  I know when we think about Heaven, we think of it as something so much greater than anything we have ever known.

But I wonder if God actually gives us glimpses here and there…little previews to sort of “wet our palate” or offer, well, a Heaven Commercial?  Here’s what I mean:

Today was an ordinary day of “rest resistance” with Addison.  (That’s what I call not wanting to nap.)

“I’m not tired, mommy.” 

“Can we go for a bike ride?” 
“Mommy, can we go to the park?” 

Conflicted and absent objectivity (I know she needs a nap, but what’s the harm?), I stuck with my plan to lie her down before our evening adventures.  Reluctantly, she grabbed her usual suspects (Kitty, bear, bunny) and even managed to grab Scruffy (our cat – he’s real) and quickly secured her bedroom so no one could escape. 

Scruffy, the likely candidate, did manage to flee and now, met with yet another nap deterrent, Addison darted out the door for recapture.  She was successful.  (I found the escaper and the escapee halfway up the stairs, Scruffy awkward in her arms, his legs dangling down and with a look that said, in cat language, ‘she got me’.)  Now securely in place for a second time, we started the nap routine again.

“What book should we read?”  I asked. 

“The Bible,” she answered. 

Handing me her worn and tattered children’s Bible, she asked to read the Parable of the Prodigal Son (not by that name, of course).  Three nap-postponing, but time-well-spent stories later, our reading culminated with Jesus dying on the cross – interestingly her favorite story of all.  Today, however, she heard something different.  I could see it in her sweet and pure blue eyes the moment she understood that it was nails that kept Jesus dangling there.  “Ouch,” she said. 

We closed the book, but only after grabbing the nearby tube of ointment to mark the page.  “Like Ms. Jesse does it, Mommy.”  Bible ‘tube-marked’, I began singing her Lullaby.  Fighting sleep, she launched into her go-to-sleep rituals (caressing Kitty’s ear among my favorites) and began to drift.  As I gingerly rose from the bed in hopes of making a quiet and quick escape, Addison made a last-ditch effort for more time: 

“Mommy, will you rock me?” 

A Heaven Commercial. 

Like a dog digging for a buried bone, I “quickly” removed 4 pillows, a life-size fairy, and 2 other stuffed animals from the rocking chair and nestled in for what I hoped to be a long episode.  And that’s exactly what I got.  Addison, no longer my infant yet craving that same tender security, folded herself comfortably in my arms, head rested on my shoulder.  I rocked.  Slowly.  Consistently.  I allowed my anxious self to settle (after all, nap time is my to-do list time) and drifted off into my own happy place.  Soon memories filled my mind of her not-so-long-ago…baby days…late at night, in my slumber, coming to rescue her from her crib upon hearing her cry.  I lingered there while we rocked.  I smelled her hair. I rubbed her arms. They were no longer pudgy, but lean and reflective of her pre-school days.  We rocked more and I could feel the weight of an almost asleep pre-schooler.  Her fingers still rubbing Kitty’s ear, all was suddenly quiet. 

Where had time gone?  Where is it going?  Wishing to be at the next stage (more “me” time) or the previous stage (gooey, precious baby), I realized I was missing THIS stage.  Addison.  Four.  Fun, witty, smart, daring, happy.  The moment was ours and no one else could claim it.  We rocked.  Slowly she dozed off to sleep in my arms.

After many, many breathtaking moments, I gently got up and placed her in her beautiful bed.  She was angelic.  With Kitty in arms, she barely opened her eyes. 

There it was.  An unplanned, pure, unadulterated connection with Addison that could have only been orchestrated by our loving God.

This one’s Super Bowl-worthy, for sure.

I love the stir of the morning. 

The fog, in the figurative sense, has lifted from my now coffee-induced state and I am ready to devour what lies ahead.

Today IS the day.  At my husband's insistence and unwavering encouragement to "write", I claimed the day to do just that. I planned it. I worked hard to ensure it happened.  And here it is...my new beginning.

I wouldn't exactly say it was easy.  Gifted at some things, boundaries I'm not. I mean, how many times have you claimed "a new beginning"?  The start of a calendar year?  A milestone birthday?  At the close of a particularly difficult season of your life?  Me too...

There is no shortage of that which beckons our attention and to only complicate matters, I want a taste of all of it.  I don't want to miss a thing!  Some days I feel like Rapunzel on her first day out of the tower!  Layer on top of that my need to control many (uncontrollable) facets of my life (insert children's names here), my hunger for quality time, and my insatiable need to "perform" or "produce" to prove my worth, you've got all the makings for complete immobilization: 

Innumerable Options

 +

Must Ensure Pieces Work Seamlessly Together

+

Linger Authentically In All Relationships

+

Still Get It All Done (Well)

=

Rapunzel With Her Hair On Fire

Thank God for His grace, although it may come as no surprise to you that this concept of unmerited favor is one I'm having difficulty totally grasping.  You?

There are an endless number of ways I could have spent today and that many more opportunities to give in to real or perceived priorities - and I chose this.  I chose to spend my time doing something I feel God is calling me to do, despite the many oppositions and distractions.  As John Eldredge so poetically points out in "Waking the Dead", God promises life , but that life is opposed...there is a thief...you're going to have to fight for the life He's promised.  I would add, "and the life He's called you for." 

(I think I'll call John and see if he'll co-author a book with me, since I have it all figured out.)

We are all fighting the Enemy and his agenda for our lives...every second of every minute of every hour of every day...rather than protecting and honoring HIS agenda for our lives.  Do you recognize the Enemy?  He's incredibly slick.  He shows up as busyness, spreads out his own blanket at the church picnic, and yep, you guessed it, moves in and sets up shop in our scary dark place that we toss up as "insecurity" that disenables us from that "new start" we all so desperately crave.  He's that good.

But today I sit, among the frenzy of other people who, like me, crave value and importance to their days.  Today I explore His intentions for me.  Today I seek His Kingdom...intentionally.

Today, at least, I didn't let the intricate, complicated recipe of my idiosyncrasies dictate my day. Satan doesn't win today.

I heeded HIS call and I feel free.

What are you doing today?  Join me, in whatever way you sense God is leading YOU.

“Baby Steps.”

That’s what Marcy said to me last night as I shared my “performance addiction” related to my first entry of this project that has been over a year in the making.

Well, longer really.

But isn’t that true of any meaningful adventure? We ponder, we pray, we talk ideas over with trusted advisors. We pray some more. Don’t hear anything? The project is shelved, that is until we hear something else…a whisper, a door opening, the encouragement of a dear friend, each propelling us closer to ‘the launch’. What prevents us from just taking those first steps? Fear of failure? Desire for the approval of others? A half-baked plan that can’t be started until the entire strategy is outlined in a perfect series of work streams? For me, all of the above. Each stronghold, nestled sorely into the root of my personality, has crippled me from serving Him in the way I believe He’s calling me to serve.

Where “this” – the above referenced meaningful adventure - all REALLY started was sometime in 2006 in the office of our beloved Associate Pastor, Nancy. I was new in my walk (not new in my faith) and knew enough about scripture to not just be dangerous, but all out silly. I was at a crossroads in my life (one of the many): to continue working or stay at home with my kids. (Can I hear an "amen" from so many of you who have experienced the same dilemma?) I was working part-time in a coveted role and many would say I had the best of both worlds: 3 full days in the office and 4 full days at home with my children. Yet something was tugging on my heart and I needed to listen.

But what was I hearing? I completely lacked any ability to be objective. There was so much noise swirling around in my head and I needed Nancy (adorned in her superwoman cape) to lead me to THE place in the Bible that pointed EXACTLY to what it was I should do. I laid it all out for her…you know, the pro/con list we all make when pondering big life decisions (a.k.a. our complete and utter reliance on self). And then, I think I literally asked her if there was a verse...some specific scripture...that spelled out God’s desire for women as it related to staying at home or working. After all, He covered everything else in the great Book!

She listened intently, as Nancy does, with eyebrow raised and hands laid upon her open Bible. “So, what should I do?” Her response, likely obvious to the more spiritually mature, profoundly changed the way I listen to Him now. “I think God speaks to us in many ways…through prayer, reading scripture, conversations with friends, opportunities that open and close…”. She then went on to describe the idea of crossroads - the very point at which these “listening posts” intersect - and that when we listen…when we work to hear…we often find our answer.

Rats. I was really hoping for a verse.

And so it began. That day, in Nancy’s office, marked the beginning of what I hope to share with you here. I’m not sure what it will look like, how organized the delivery will be, or even whether or not you will find it interesting or impactful. These are simply my reflections...my stories...what I'm learning "along the way" of life.

I think I feel the shackles loosening…