Morning Flight

"Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing, you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect." Romans 12:2

metamorphoo (greek)-'transformed by the renewing of your mind'

metamorphosis

She sits in the car speaking of painted ladies as we make our way to a release...

"Monarchs, Muffins, and Moms"...they are not monarchs she proclaims; they are the species painted ladies...

Painted ladies...yes, I know that species far too well for in my caterpillar state there is much self-painting. Strokes of self-worth, coverings of self-image, concealers of self-protection all blending together into one ugly mess. His artwork covered over. I live in the dirt of an abandoned garden.

Caterpillar number eleven, Bird has taken for her own. This one falling short of the twelve. A number of imperfection and insufficiency, yet Bird sees value. She heralds eleven's transformation with a love-naming...Jewel...the sparkle of Hope; she anticipates change.

"In the same way I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born', says the Lord" Isaiah 66:9

Jerked from my womb in a torrent of confusion and noise, Bird entered the dirt. Fear choked as her heart rate dropped. Pain had worn me thin, and yet it was her glance that wrecked me. Breathless beauty anticipating growth.

This reflective stare of hers. She sees the caterpillars in me without judging. She mirrors the necessity of my change with a love-naming...mommy.

Bird rushes in the door. Jewel has entered chrysalis. A cocoon of silk thread ushering in transformation. She is ready to be more.

The stare convicts. Chrysalis begins. I enter the scarlet-threaded cocoon of His grace and truth. Darkness encloses, yet Light is there. I have entered the warmth of my God's womb. My unseen parent who is both father and mother giving birth to new Life in the garden. His breath drawing me from the dirt.

Bird announces the time is near. The cocoon is becoming transparent; the thinning out making way for Jewel's re-emergence.

I hand over my painted ladies one by one. There is confusion in what I am becoming; the pain sears as the "me" becomes thinner. Transparency grows, Truth shines in. I shed the self-skins in exchange for His wings of righteousness. His Love-flight made known.

Transparency draws the heart to worship; worship is our metamorphosis.

Jewel emerges fully encompassing her name; she is artwork ready to shine. Metamorphosis complete. Bird watches in astonishment as Jewel takes morning flight.

Morning by morning new mercies I see...

"We are all pregnant with possibilities of spiritual growth and moral beauty so great that they cannot be adequately described as anything less than the formation of Jesus Christ in our lives." John Ortberg

Bird: Thank you for challenging my painted ladies. I pray you see more butterfly days in the future.

To my mother: Thank you for sharing each step of your flight in Him this year with me.

A Whole Bunch of Awesomeness

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick; but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life." Proverbs 13:12

Four days and counting, Red curls has morphed into spiderman...a spiderman, that is, with an uncanny resemblance to Bozo the clown in fireman boots.

Without a care in the world, he marches through stores, playgrounds, carpool lines, and school leaving a trail of smiles.

"A desire fulfilled is sweet to the soul." Proverbs 13:19

I watch as hearts skip a beat; I watch eyes feast on my boy in laughter, and yet I see something deeper in the gazes...a recognition...a longing...a return for what once was.

A time when Hope reigned over our existence...

A time when it was natural to be a whole bunch of awesomeness parading through the Life spreading joy...

When is the shift...

When does it become a battle...

To lovingly live into the unique, intricate, beautiful beings each one of us was made to be...

To stop taking ourselves so seriously that we forget the great intentionality of laughter...

To stop listening to other's thoughts of us intead of our Creator...

When does laughter transform into self-deprecation instead of rejoicing?

When do we start seeing everything in black and white instead of the Grace-filled rainbow of His Kingdom?

When do we lose the mission of Hope?

When do we stop daring?

"Left to ourselves, we can never handle our own uniqueness. We have to give the burden of "being me" to God's care and nurture. But in doing this, we discover more of the greatness of our loving Father. For if God is indeed God, then he has a separate perception and thought for everything that exists. Every creature at every moment is specifically known and sustained by him. An infinite love has an infinite attention to loving each creature in its own specific way. As Jesus said, not a hair on our head goes unnoticed by our heavenly Father. Because of this, it is no idle pretense of false arrogance on our part to believe that each one of us has a unique journey to make in the company of God. It is this profound individuation of our whole life before God that gives us substance to the reality: He loved me; he gave himself for me." James Houston's The Transforming Power of Prayer

Sanctification is a recognition...a longing...a return to what once was.

Our superhero has come, and He did not just come to save the day. Jesus moved heaven and hell that we may share the riches of eternity with Him.

Dare to see yourself through the Truth of His eyes...

Dare to laugh...

Dare to Hope...

Dare to fulfill the true desire of your heart...

Dare to live the mission...

Know who you are, then you will know what you can give...

A whole bunch of awesomeness parading through the Life spreading joy...

The Many Faces of Red

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened. Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, though you are evil know how to give good gifts to your children,how much more will your Father in heaven give..." Luke 11:9-13

I see no place to rest his head. I search for more; there must be more. Racing past the Answer. My haste makes waste. I refuse to open the door of the moment.

Boy-mine finds rest within His Father's world. A bed of wood on a porch with a breeze. And, wasn't a stone-cold manger room enough for the baby-King. This King who stands at the door and knocks.

Red curls accepts the offering before him; he honors the secret. Acceptance creates room for Magnificence. For when there was no room, Mercy made the Way.

My haste has made waste. I have handed out snakes in a world-wind of rushing. In a search for more, I have slammed the door to endless possibility.

How much more will the Father give...

A morning with a breeze finds me humbling heart, body, and soul. Every inch gets lower as my door-opening son teaches the art of contentedness. We use every God-given sense to explore the created that we may receive the full blessing of the Creator. As I physically get lower, I see the richness of Life. Contentedness is not a brave face, but a myriad of moments all displaying the face of the one, true God.

Acceptance creates room for Magnificence. For when there was no room, Mercy made the Way.

"The secret of being in love, of falling in love with life as it was meant to be, is to befriend our yearning instead of avoiding it, to live into our longing rather than trying to resolve it, to enter the spaciousness of our emptiness rather than trying to fill it up." Gerald May's The Awakened Heart

Beautiful Dreamer

"There is nothing-no thing, no person, no experience, no thought, no joy or pain-that cannot be harvested and used for nourishment on our journey to God." Macrina Wiederkehr's A Tree Full of Angels

"As they pass through the Valley of Baca, they make it a place of springs..." Psalm 84:6

"Passing through the Valley of Weeping, look for the springs, confident of the season of healing..." Prayer Portions

On the way to school, Bird dons a pink dress with white daisies, captivating beauty chattering in the back seat.

Upon arrival, chatter ceases as a steady stream of uniforms pours into school. Mama sparrow has mixed up picture day.

I face Bird with "I am so sorry."

With amazing grace, her brown eyes meet mine with a reflective response, "No big deal."

She bravely jumps out of the car, her tiny body framed by a giant backpack, moving forward.

I pull away feeling helpless. The constricting snake of anxiety coils around my heart. The "what-ifs" and "if only's" multiply...What if other girls tease her? What if she is embarrassed? What are the costs to her heart for my failure? If only, I had remembered? If only, I were more organized? The final blow...If only, I were a better mom?

The next moment I remember a friend's words, "Mae is a unique combination of humility and quiet confidence..."

Hurt humbles; His love heals...Confidence grows...Amazing Grace...

I felt helpless upon her birth as she arrived six weeks early. I felt helpless a week before her first birthday as I was placed on bed rest. The memory of her mind may have no record, but her heart recalls. These moments when a mother's touch seems like everything, and her mother wasn't there.

I have seen her hurt, and I have hurt as I patiently waited for her to dare to trust again. He has been the parent behind the scenes as He taught me to parent in the unseen.

Hurt humbles; His love heals...Confidence grows...Amazing Grace...

Over the next hour, I pray for my girl in all the details and "what-if" scenarios; I allow my Father to be the parent until I am able to arrive uniform in hand.

My heart recognizes His familiar refrain for me...Helplessness is the beginning of true power, and grace is the beginning of glory. Live in my mercy; serve by my grace.

That afternoon as we venture in Narnia, those brown eyes look to me, "Mommy, this morning was kind of bad. It was annoying; everyone asked me why I didn't have my uniform on."

I listen; I acknowledge the pain; I thank her for her generous, forgiving, ever-growing heart. Then, I ask, "Did you remember in those moments before I got there that God loves you head to toe, heart and soul, just the way you are, all the time, and He could care less what you have on?!?"

She sweetly chirps, as a slight grin broadens into a gap-toothed smile, "Yes, mommy, I did, and thanks for bringing my uniform later." Just like that, she flits away.

Hurt humbles; His love heals...Confidence grows...Amazing Grace...

Moments later Bird busily begins work on a masterpiece. Moments turn into almost an hour, and then I hear her call. Her work is done; she hands over her offering, a stain-glassed picture of her love and her family.

I notice a small corner facet, "What does that say, Bird?"

"I love myself!" she replies...tears sting my eyes.

A friend's Truth,"Mae is a unique combination of humility and quiet confidence."

Hurt humbles; His love heals...Confidence grows...Amazing Grace...

She is His song; she is a beautiful dreamer growing before my very eyes...

From Bird's favorite of the summer... "He finally decided to play 'Beautiful Dreamer, Wake Unto Me.' He had always loved that song. It was sad and sweet. 'She is a beautiful dreamer,' thought Louis,'and she will wake unto me.' E.B. White's Trumpet of the Swan

Bird, when the hurt of this world tempts you to close off pieces of your heart, take your hurt to His love, beautiful dreamer, that you may trumpet His glory into eternity.

33

Saturday night, a friend says with loving excitement,"Your birthday is in a few days, right!?!.."

I respond nonchalantly,"yeah, thirty-three...no big deal, just another birthday."

An hour later, I go through my bedtime routine. With a mouth full of toothpaste, I hear Him..."I was thirty-three when I went to the cross for you. You are a big deal to me."

In a instant, I am humbled to tears and loved more deeply than I could imagine.

Thirty-three...

Thirty-three...

He was thirty-three when He made our Way...

Thirty-three will never be the same...

"Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes; your name is like perfume poured out." Song of Songs 1:3

He is the sweetness in the journey for at thirty-three He poured himself out...

And, His Truth resounds to all, 'You are a big deal to the I AM.'

I am a bit of a Masochist...

July is spent by His ocean, the beautiful beaches of North Carolina and Florida (thanks to the generosity of grandparents).

Each day a cycle of pjs to swimsuit to pjs again...

Each day a reminder of who He is as we stand at water's edge...His breadth and length and height and depth...His power-filled love...

I soak my three in fully. I am covered by them day after day like garments of praise. I stand in awe of my God as I caste my cares upon His water...

Simplicity and majesty...

As the lazy days of summer end, the intensity of togetherness makes re-entry all the more painful; a shift in life rhythm ushering in the sadness of change. I have loved the little years.

Yet, an eager anticipation stirs. For sadness and delight are lovers in the crazy heart of a daughter of the King.

For in my sadness, I know where to run, and I delight in the comfort of my Father's lap.

Time itself gives me the blessing of time. He listens to my heart and catches my tears, without ever letting my foot slip into self-pity...

His words wash over me...

His Truth, "These are my children given to you for a time. Remember I made them. I love them. I take care of them."

And, His Amazing grace, "This here and now, the comfort of my Presence, is yours for the taking. I AM yours, and you are mine. The best is yet to come."

My unchanging God amongst the changes whispers, "There is no managing, just faith in the mystery."

His peace is always full of passion for it was His passion that brought us everlasting peace.

Joy is daring to passionately "feel" again with our King. True Treasure that I wouldn't have any other Way.

Beginning to Fill

First days of summer, Blue-eyes sits at the kitchen counter, his legs lazily swing back and forth, words tumbling one after the other, "Mommy, make sure the cheese oozes out the side. Mommy, Mommy, you know I like it gooey. Mommy, Mommy guess what!? guess what!?"

He comes up for air, and I offer the afternoon plans...swim lessons.

Silence threatens...nine months without swimming has left Blue-eyes pregnant with anxiety...those crystal windows to his soul betray him, giving his heart away.

I pause to let the moment settle, sliding his grill cheese in front of him, figuring I will dive into this pool of fear with him after we pray.

Blue-eyes starts into his blessings "rhythm"....

"Dear God, You are good. You are great. Thank you for this food. Thank you for my family. Thank you for dogs..."

Suddenly transparency breaks "rhythm" as true blessings spill over, this beautiful boy humbles himself. His voice quivers; he chokes back tears...

"and, God, Can you please help me today during swim lessons. I am really scared. Can you please take the fear away? Can you help me be brave?"

Blue-eyes moves forward without me on his first wobbly legs of faith. God moves in the moment I give Him as His child shares raw emotion...

Living water beginning to fill...

Last days of summer, sun-kissed cheeks splash in the water. Blue-eyes practices diving, the fluid motion coming together.

I yell, "Good dive, love!" He quickly reprimands, "Say 'great' next time mommy, not 'good.'Say 'great!'"

This passionate boy of mine who knows no half-way with an insatiable desire to fill...

He scales rocks, then dives into the cool water. As he comes up for air, he faces an unexpected wall; Bird's raft square over him, and no breath to be found. My boy hits the raft in panicked attempts. My heart jumps to my throat anticipating a rescue. I pause, but for a moment. Blue-eyes suddenly swims out from under and moves through the water. Living water providing a Way.

That night, dinner comes with a familiar question, "What did God give you today?" Transparency breaks "rhythm" with an unexpected answer, "Calm in the water." True blessings spill over. My boy recognizes the power that quieted his storm.

Living water beginning to fill...

Blue-eyes, What I long for most is that you may know the saving and healing touch of Jesus, and yet there are moments I am tempted to "take you back," to "protect" you from pain, and moments I selfishly long to fill you with me. Always remember you long for great, not just good...

"Great is the Lord and greatly to be praised. His greatness is unsearchable." Psalm 145:3