On Being a Little Girl

Oh, the wonder of little girls! Running, skipping, twirling with abandon. Arms outstretched. Hearts outstretched. Nothing closed, or cynical, or hard about them. How I love little girls! They giggle, they squeal, they love lavishly - without restraint. Their smiles, stories, and antics say, "Take my hand. I will show you how to play. How to laugh. How to find delight in the silliest of things." Though they know so little of the world, their world is so much larger and full of possiblility than those of us who claim to be grown up. Have you ever allowed yourself to be drawn into the world of a little girl?

How much their simple joy speaks of the profound. Open arms, open hearts, loving lavishly. This is the life we can re-capture as children of God. A life of abandon to the One who cares for us intimately...and always. We are so loved, so held tight, that we can be free to love lavishly and not worry for the world's reaction. Because we're safe, we can be free. Free to receive all that grace has to offer. Free to lavish grace, love, mercy, forgiveness upon others, for we have an endless Supplier of these gifts. Free to live a life of childlike faith, because "nothing is impossible with God." Does this mean that there is never pain, disappointment, heartache? We all know there is. Even little girls know this. But they also know where to run when they're afraid, need a hug, or a bandage. They don't give it a second thought. They run to whomever they have put their trust in. To those who have nutured them faithfully. They know that even though the "owie" still hurts, there are strong arms to hold them and reassure them everything will be ok...in the end.

And, we, who are the nurturers of such precious little ones are well aware that some "owies" don't get better right away. Some pain will have to be endured. Some things will strike them unaware - and be so unfair. But we also know that we will hold them throughout the midnight roar of thunder and lightning, if that's what it takes. We will lay with them and pray over them as they suffer through that bout of pain or fever. Have you ever laid your hands upon your suffering child and prayed that God would take the pain from them and give it to you instead? I have...so many times. These are the very things that Jesus does for us. He may not calm the storm, but He holds us. No matter the pain of body, heart, or soul, He "never leaves us nor forsakes us." And because we had no way to cure the "sickness" of sin in our lives, He took it upon HImself. All that wrath poured upon Him so that we could be healed and know peace.

So in the midst of this world that taunts like a school yard bully, we can know that we need not fear. "Our God is greater, our God is stronger, our God is higher than any other..." And when I joyfully watch little girls at play and little girls at rest, I will always pause mid-delight and be challenged to keep this same childlikeness. It is not the same as childishness. That would be foolish. But childlike faith is our calling in Christ. It trusts implicitly in the One who is eternally trustworthy. It is so possible if we embrace all that He is and all that He has accomplished for us. In the full power of God, Christ lives in every believer. He has conquered the "bully" forever. We need not fear...ever. In this faith I choose to stand...and to run, skip, twirl and giggle! "Oh the wonder of it all!" Thank you, Jesus. I love being a little girl.

Roller Coasters

Let me start off by establishing that I do not like roller coasters. I do not like being thrown around at whirlwind speeds nor careening up and down in, what always seems to me to be, the stratosphere. (Yes, I have a fear of heights too.) I don't like the roar of cars on tracks nor the furious jolting. I have no need of these thrills. I'm not really an adrenaline junky at all. So when I find myself at a time of life that is full of sharp turns, cliffhangers, and unpredictable emotions, I am quite out of my element and often a little ticked that someone has put me on a roller coaster without my consent.

I think it's more the emotional ride that sets me off. I haven't felt this range of changing emotion and angst since I was a teenager. It's one of the reasons that I can never figure out why people say that the high school years are the "best years of our lives." Good grief! There was definitely fun to be had, but there was always an underlying uncertainty, insecurity, and fear that someone would find out that you didn't have it all together after all. And there was this emotional roller coaster...gah! Maybe that's why I love teenagers so much. I have a lot of compassion for their plight. You don't get to skip those years, or fast forward through them, or even have an inkling that you will survive them. You just have to gut your way along through peer pressure, fashion pressure, crushes, temptation, heartbreak, and perhaps, as in my case, divorce. And that doesn't begin to cover it all. Do I have great memories of those years? Oh yes! But I did not find the "amusement park ride" part at all amusing.

Through all the chaos of teen-hood the one thing that kept my feet on the ground was my faith. I had dear friends and, no doubt, I had my mother who I know listened endlessly to my soap opera-like ranting. But down in my panel-lined, basement bedroom it was just me and Jesus. No one ever saw the darkness of my despair, the crush of doomed crushes - or even the anger brought on by family and relationship "stuff" - like Jesus did. I was not a saint through those years, but I wanted to be. And I was just as apt to try an find solace in some sappy Top 40 song as anyone. (Long live "The Best of Bread.") But ultimately it was the words of Isaiah 43, and others like them, that gave me true comfort:

When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you;

and when you pass through the rivers,

they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire,

you will not be burned;

the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the LORD, your God,

the Holy One of Israel, your Savior...

Do not be afraid for I am with you.

Have you ever experienced emotion that swept over you like raging, relentless waves and felt that you could not breathe? That you would surely drown? Have you ever just wanted to curl up in a corner instead of go out and face your world of relationships and responsibilities? Have you ever experienced that sinking feeling that makes it seem like you're burning from the inside out? Did you learn how to cover it up? Or compensate by throwing yourself into endless activities where you felt you had a chance to succeed - therefore, feel in control? Did you learn that by being funny and making people laugh you could stave off your sadness? Have you ever_________ (fill in the blank)?

Amidst all that then, and all that now, I still find my only real solace in Jesus. And I know that, as much as I rail against the ride, He is with me. He was then. He is now. And so I come to this place of being ticked off and overwhelmed and wanting to be anywhere but on this ridiculous roller coaster, and I scream and throw up my hands (that's what crazy people on roller coasters do) and I ride it out. And just like those crazy people I am at once filled with terror and excitement. Part of me screams, "I'm gonna die a thousand times!" and the other part knows that all the crazy people I've ever seen get on one of those careening contraptions get off in one piece, usually smiling.

The difference is that my ride has been ordained by the God of the universe. He tells me, "Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." (Isaiah 40:10) He has held my hand many times and reminded me, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." (Hebrews 13:5) He hears me confess my unbelief, my fears, my rebellion, and He strengthens me with His mercies that are "new every morning." ....sigh... He forgives. Even though I know better than to not believe. Even though I know that fear has no power over me except what I give it. Even though I know my rebellion grieves Him. And "how the heck did I get here again?" He forgives. As many times as I come in humility and fall at His feet and say, "Jesus, I am hating this ride. Forgive me. Not my will, but Yours..." He holds me tight and does not let go. He sings sweet songs into my ear and catches my tears. He strengthens my weak hands and feeble knees and a says, once again, "Follow me." Thank God! At least He knows where we're going.

This has been a roller coaster day. Ooo! Big surprise, eh? And though I sat through dinner pondering when I could bolt out the door proclaiming that I needed to be alone, I stuck it out, fighting back tears that I didn't - and still don't - completely understand. The past few days, before today, were an amazing respite from the dips and rolls. For that I am so thankful. And even today, with the waves of emotion crashing again, I find peace in His promises and am still, ultimately, thankful. Outwardly, I am wasting away and I do look tired. But inwardly, He is renewing me. One of my favorite passages comes to mind:

Yet I am always with You;

You hold me by my right hand.

You guide me with your counsel,

and afterward You will take me into glory.

Whom have I in heaven but You?

And earth has nothing I desire besides You.

My flesh and my heart may fail,

but God is the strength of my heart

and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:23-26)

I will never love roller coasters. But that's ok. I wasn't made for them. This ride won't feeltotally comfortable, for "earth has nothing I desire" besides Him. My soul longs for that eternal respite, "for His appearing." (2Timothy 4:6-8) That is as it should be. And in the mean time: "I have decided to follow Jesus. No turning back. No turning back."