Open Hands

It came to me in a sun-soaked moment while contemplating the pages of another's story...

Learning the posture of hands held open - ready to surrender, ready to receive - had been invaluable as I raised my little ones. Watching them grow with an eye willing to see them become who they were created to become. Willing to feed and nurture, knowing the goal was flight. A strong, joyous launching into the skies of their callings. I readied my heart for their leaving with hands held open.

They were never mine to keep.

Today I saw my own life, one that is also not mine to keep. Bought with a price. Precious blood spilled, washing me so that clean, forgiven hands can come with confidence to a throne of grace that still staggers. Grace lavished. Grace unmerited. Jesus' nail-scarred hands open, embracing, forever offered... to me. Forgiveness to all who come in repentance, trusting in His saving grace.

Yet, here I stand with one hand open, outstretched, hopeful... not seeing the other, crooked and fisted behind my back.

I gave my life, didn't I? Look upon my children. Look upon a marriage still alive and learning to thrive despite all manner of opposition. Now it's my turn to have what I want. Pursue the things I imagined doing with this half of my life. To rest from the exhausting rigors of motherhood and all that I've given myself to these past decades. Can I not grab something for my own? Of my own choosing? And hold it tightly? 

This is the cry of the crooked fist. The one hidden so that even I did not see the willfulness and lack of trust.

For all my knowledge of the peace and safety of surrendering to God who is good and able, faithful and true, sovereign, wise, and loving, nothing but oppression and frustration are born if knowing doesn't open my hands... both of them.

This is where confession began today.

Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. 

~James 1:22

Trust in the Lord with ALL your heart and lean not on your own understanding. 

In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your path. 

~Proverbs 3:5,6

Search me, God, and know my heart;

test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me,

and lead me in the way everlasting.

~Psalm 139:23, 24

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me... far better than I know myself. I'm so thankful that you always lead me back to You... the way everlasting. 


Grateful for His open hands and new-mercy mornings.

Poor and Needy

Hear me, Lord, and answer me,
    for I am poor and needy. ~ Psalm 86:1

Monday:
As the birds chatter away in the midday sun, I find a place of quiet in the psalms. The plaintive cries of David - shepherd, warrior, king - never fail to resonate. Neither do his flaws. We are far from ideal, he and I.

Yet he was a man after God's own heart. This speaks to me of both God's heart for David, and David's heart for God.

Am I a woman after God's own heart? I am sure of His heart for me. Though it still mystifies, I know His love never fails.

But me? I am all of failure, left to my own. Left to my own? No, that is false. I am never left, but I do leave. I am all of failure when I strike out on my own and leave His strength behind.

*   *   *   *   *  *   *

Friday:
A friend sent a loving text earlier this week, nudging me to life and truth. Within it, "...Ps 86." So I read the whole thing, soaked in it... and, starting over, stalled on the first verse. "Hear me, Lord, and answer me, for I am poor and needy." My shoulders dropped as a sigh escaped. My body crying surrender long before my heart. My will, always the last to die.

Now here I sit on the same patio days later, with lawn mower white noise as soundtrack to the white noise in my head. I'm so tired. Tired of being strong. ... I don't want to be that strong girl anymore. I can't be.  ... This feels so selfish ... What is real, Lord? What am I to be doing?

I don't know about you, but I'm wired to serve others. If I see a need, I want to fill it. It seems as natural as breathing to me. "Here am I, send me" is a line of scripture that has resonated since I was chest high to the back of a pew. Seeing things with eyes of mercy is also God's gift. So many wonderful opportunities to bring God's grace into the everyday arise from both these Spirit-born passions.

But somewhere in this, life has piled up and I've lost sight of my Source. So busy keeping my head, and everyone else's head, above water that I'm exhausted. And so the cry comes... God, is all this really of you? Is this my portion or am I taking more than is mine to do? I am so ready to let all these spinning plates crash and run for the hills... or the beach... leave town with no forwarding address. 

I'm a mess.

How desperate and mentally spent are you when you're seriously considering moving away - new town, new deal - just to escape responsibility? Have you ever been there?

If I were physically sick, I would have an excuse to bow out, but other than the occasional far away look, there is no outward evidence of how thin this thread feels that keeps me tethered to ... what? Sanity? Reality? My own well-being?

Amidst the din of such thoughts, the prayer of David has echoed all week long. "Hear me, Lord, and answer me, for I am poor and needy." A soul cry. A heart beat. Prayer without ceasing.

It seems He's heard the echoes. Though still frayed and perplexed, I've sensed the infusing of "strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow." Forever and always, great is His faithfulness.

As I travel the life of hymn and psalm - bowing down, declaring Truth, crying out, singing praise, all while still mulling through and waiting for answers, direction, wisdom - He lives, He hears. He loves me with an everlasting love. In stark contrast to my weakness and desire to pull away from everything and everyone, His presence and power - and mercy - are steadfast.

Thank you, Father. 

We all can get buried in the issues of life. Noise abounds. Advice is everywhere. But in a world full of motivational tag lines and endless lists of the 5, 7, or 10 things that happy, successful, amazing people do to be happier, more successful, and infinitely more amazing, I am finding solace in a list of three.

1. Hear, me, Lord
2. I am poor
3. I am needy

Perhaps it's a good thing I'm too tired to remember much more.