Written On the Heart

You are our letter, written in our hearts, known and read by all men;

being manifested that you are a letter of Christ, cared for by us,

written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but 

on tablets of human hearts.

2 Corinthians 3:2-3

The day has arrived, gentle reader, for me to turn out the lights and lock the door to this space.  Hiding behind Maria did not unlock the creativity I thought it might.  It did provide me a safe place to publicly process some thoughts.  In the past months I have learned that in some ways, I long to be more insular and in fact it is something I will pursue.  Yet, in other ways I must leave my bubble to gladly embrace the world in the name of Jesus.  What an opportunity that is!  To walk on this path is messy and full of trouble for me and for my family, and yet there is no other path for us, no other calling that would give us rescue from the one we have already heard.  

Perhaps because I am slow (not in a feeble minded way, but more in the way of the tortoise), I find that I do not have the physical time available that is necessary to blog.  The reason I feel pulled in so many different directions is because I AM pulled in so many different directions.  Priorities priorities, and the blog has lost out.  And here is why this is not bad news:

The other day I was sifting through pictures of when the children were quite small.  Among the pictures I pulled out two journals that had entries on only a few pages.  I sifted through the memories and realized all of the half-recorded details along the way.  I read some of those old journal entries and thought what a treasure it would have been to me if I had found a journal written by my own mother.  I found the starts of handiwork never near finished.  I looked at the small faces staring back at me from the photo papers, and I suddently became very aware of how I have poured into too many jars-- never filling one-- only to spread myself far too thin.

I could see, clearly now, how I had left too much undone.

And how is this good news?  Well, at first the realization did not delight me at all.  No, I felt guilty and sick about it.  But I could quickly see how God had redeemed the time inspite of my lack.  So I was grateful.  And then I was grateful to be awake to the reality.  It is just one of my many 'second chances' in life.   I will still be in need, daily, of Him to redeem my every moment.  Apart from Him I can do nothing!  But I see that He has given me joy in the desire to pursue a more narrowed life-- one that celebrates things such as....

.... knowing that nothing much matters more than seeing lives saved and names written in the Lamb's book

.... if all I ever accomplish is to reflect God's amazing, unfathomable, devine love for man-kind-- person to person-- it is enough, it will have been a life well spent

.... there might be no more important words I could write than ones left for those to read that come behind me that simply give voice to what it was like for me to walk with my Lord on this earth

.... my presence.... my most real and alive and focused presence is the greatest gift I can give my children, my husband, my friends, my family and my neighbors

.... my audience may never extend beyond the walls of my small life (likely it will not) -- and so my time is not for a world of unknowns but for the very real work and wonder of:

making smoothies, knitting scarves and hats, walking the dog, tending the chickens, weeding the garden, kissing the foreheads, teaching the math, listening to the music, making the music, praying with friends, reading His word together, folding the clothes, dusting the shelves, sweeping the porch, delighting the neighbor, hanging the wreaths,chopping the veggies, tossing the salad, writing the letters, making the calls, smiling at the gas attendant, complimenting the cashier, asking about her family, remembering her after I leave her, sipping the wine, laughing over cards, singing 80's songs, traveling to new places, holding hands, having my mind blown by old ideas that are new to me, giving back rubs, braiding hair, hugging boys that grow too fast, reading His Word not just to read but to be renewed, making the bed, vaccuming the carpets,stirring the soup, embracing love, sipping tea, supporting my neighbor's new business, helping a sister fundraise for her mission, praying for a sister who is scared, welcoming new babies, cuddling, reading stories, writing poems, sewing curtians, listing to-dos, counting blessings, lighting candles, healing touches, mixing remedies, baking bread, reading mail, taking pictures, booking photos, weeding out, taking in, editing the papers, watching the practices, cheering during the races, praying for him and him and her and them, learning contentment, being real about who I am and Whose I am, making apologies and not making apologies, reading poems, singing songs, ministering, caring, writing on the hearts of those entrusted to me as letters to the world.... written by Jesus, cared for by me....

and that is the bottom line.  I am called to write, yes!  But in a very different medium from what I once thought. 

And so goes my story, our story.... not written with ink at all.... but on the tablets of our very human hearts.

Thanks for reading,
~Maria 

Everything You Want

We are building a house.  

It is nearing the end stages, and through the process

I have learned things I did not want to learn.

I have learned that in order to build a house, one must become consumed with 

a plethora of choice in things one had never given 

any consideration ,of any kind, to before.

I have learned that the cost of "personalization" stretches far beyond dollars, 

digging into the true treasures of thought, time, and attention.

I have learned that children don't care about back-splashes and floor stains.

I am learning, for instance, that even with a brand new home

perfection is outside of my grip.

"Oh you can make it just like you want it to be!"

No.  No, you really can't.

I don't even know why you can't, but I've tried, and

it's not happening.

The house isn't becoming all that I wish it would be.

And, I think, 

that is how it should be.

What a great test of where your treasure lies!  

What opportunity this house-building-business brings

for training our eternal focus, 

while bringing into clear focus 

our daily need for salvation,

for grace

for Daily Bread.

So here we are transitioning into home-ownership,

and we are blessed to be able to do so, 

and yet

there is nothing fantastic about it,

nothing earth-shattering,

no cause for celebration, 

but just the way we are making our earthly home---

which is, I hope, reflective of our true citizenship in God's kingdom---

but that has nothing to do with renting vs. buying or yellow paint vs.green paint.

Remembering this, I lay down the rest... and perhaps I will have to lay it down again 

and again, and again.

Practice makes perfect.

The habit of kingdom focus is perfect indeed

Praying with The Valley of Vision:

Thou Great I Am,          

Fill my mind with elevation and grandeur at the thought of a Being

with whom one day is as a thousand years,

and a thousand years as one day,

A mighty God, who, amidst the lapse of worlds,

and the revolutions of empires,

feels no variableness,

but is glorious in immortality.

May I rejoice that, while men die, The Lord lives;
that, while all creatures are broken reeds
empty cisterns,
fading flowers,
withering grass,
He is the Rock of Ages, the Fountain of living waters.

Turn my heart from vanity,
from dissatisfactions,
from uncertainties of the present state,
to an eternal interest in Christ.

Let me remember that life is short and unforeseen,
and is only an opportunity for usefulness;
Give me a holy avarice to redeem the time,
to awake at every call to charity and piety,
so that I may feed the hungry,
clothe the naked,
instruct the ignorant,
reclaim the vicious,
forgive the offender,
diffuse the gospel,
show neighbourly love to all.

Let me live a life of self-distrust,
dependence on Thyself,
mortification,
crucifixion,
prayer.

Amen.

~ Maria

Silence

I am not Trayvon Martin.

Neither are you.

No matter what your color, culture, or status in this life...

you are not him.

You are alive in fact.

I was once struck by something Wendell Berry wrote in one of his stories.  He wrote of how we not only shouldn't, but how we cannot speak for the dead.  

And, How is it honoring to speak as though we can relate to someone in their death?  How can any of us identify with someone who paid the final price of their life?

How is it respectful for any of us to insist we are that person?

This is one of my many confusions in the tumult of the last week.  

So many voices clamoring to be heard.  So much anger... disallusionment.  So many sparks giving way to greater flames of tragedy.  

Even in admitting my take on "I am Trayvon Martin", I shudder to think who might read that admission and misconstrue, misunderstand, misquote and mistake.

And all of this might give us pause.

I will not speak on this matter in public.

Even in private, my words for it are very few.

It is not because I do not think on it, wrestle with it, yearn for better things in all of it.

I do.

I am silent because I have learned that sometimes

we have to wait on wisdom.

In the waiting it is good to be

silent.

Maria

Living Small

Oh gentle reader, more and more I find the Lord filtering, filtering, filtering.

 Though Joy is pure and sweet, it is found in the hard-pressed.

Easy Street becomes a road of sorrows.

Grace is the awkward and upside down,

the brush in His hands painting

all this good with oft times 

confusing strokes.

He is the Writer, the One who works out the character development,

the plot, the story boards, the beginning, the middle, the end.

His telling leaves us breathless, as His heros and heroines

walk down paths we would be right fearful to take ourselves.

They are not the bigger-than-lifers of tinsel town

but rather as the story develops, the heros 

become less and less important,

and almost disappear into a

story that is bigger 

than they are.

That isn't the kind of hero we want to be.  

What is the good life?

It's right in front of you, the now, this very moment.

It doesn't depend on 'likes' or how full 

the comment section is, or 

how many views, clicks or hits....

You may be blessed with a very good life,

and never create a frenzy of online

activity.

You don't have to 'Buy it Now'.

Be careful if you have an audience...

that,

 perhaps, in this day, 

is the most slippery

of all slopes.

Yes, He filters out the dross and prunes back unruly branches.

In this age of Living Big and getting yourself 'out there',

perhaps you might pause and evaluate

what it is that is Good.

Do you keep gathering back up the chaff?

Let it go,

 and consider this...

is there any evidence, any truth to the old adage:

Less is more?

~Maria

Time for This

"Do you not find yourselves forgetful of Jesus?

Some creature steals away your heart,

and you are unmindful of Him upon whom your affection ought to be set.

Some earthly business engrosses your attention when

you should fix your eye steadily upon the cross.

It is the incessant turmoil of the world, 

the constant attraction of earthly things

which takes the soul away from Christ.

While memory too well preserves a poisonous weed, 

it allows the Rose of Sharon to wither.

Let us charge ourselves to bind a heavenly forget-me-not about our hearts for Jesus, our beloved,

and, whatever else we let slip, 

let us firmly hold onto Him."

Charles Spurgeon (in plain English)

"When religion has said its last word, there is little that we need other than God Himself.  The evil habit of seeking God-and effectively prevents us from finding God in full revelation.  In the 'and' lies our great woe.  If we omit the 'and' we shall soon find God, and in Him we shall find that for which we have all our lives been secretly longing. "

A.W.  Tozer

"And the LORD said to Aaron, “You shall have no inheritance in their land, neither shall you have any portion among them. I am your portion and your inheritance among the people of Israel."    Numbers 18:20 This is what I will think on, in the garden today, as I pull weed after weed up out of the  rich soil in which almost anything can grow.  It's up to me to clear away that which would choke up the beauty. And so along with Tozer, I pray.... "Oh God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more.  I am painfully conscious of my need of further grace.  I am ashamed of my lack of desire.  O God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee;  I long to be filled with longing;  I thirst to be made more thirsty still.  Show me Thy glory, I pray Thee, that so I may know Thee indeed.  Begin in mercy a new work of love within me.  Say to my soul, 'Rise up, my love, may fair one, and come away.'  Then give me grace to rise and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long.   In Jesus' Name, Amen." ~Maria

Detour

I almost can't remember a time when 

I could predict what would come next.

But, actually, if I think back far enough,

there were many years

when I did just that.

I guess my mind was trained towards that:

predicting the future,

and planning for what was predicted.

Even now, when my best guesses are

merely stabs in the dark,

I am addicted to a way of thinking

that anticipates the 'all clear',

the green light,

for the almighty

Plan.

I want to know what's what.

I want boundaries 

defined.

I am willing to sacrifice the now

in order to be assured

of 

what's next.

It doesn't make sense,

and the sacrifice is not 

worth it.

I am learning this slowly.

Addictions are hard- to- break

habits we depend on.

The hope, though, is this...

In what may seem like a perpetual holding pattern?

there are green lights.

They may not overlook the roads I thought they should.

They may illuminate a different course

altogether.

But they are yeses,

they are the clear signs declaring,

'This Way'.

What joy there is in being forced down the Detour,

only to find

it really was

the quickest path

to where you want to be.

~Maria

Poor

I've read the gospels.

I've lived with little and I've lived with a lot.

I'm not sure one of those is more holy than the other.

But downsizing-- living amongst the poor and for the poor

is becoming in vogue.

It's the new black.

I don't think it's a bad new trend.  

I don't think for one minute

the Jesus followers that have followed Him

to slums

have missed the boat.

But I've lived with little and I've lived with a lot.

And I know for sure,

there are a thousand ways

to be poor.

~Maria