Saturday, 4 September 2010

hurricane


Watching the winds, craving the storm
Running into the atmosphere’s shift
Hoping to be uprooted
Tossed and tumbled
To catch a glimpse of your eye
Through the waves in the sky


~lg

Monday, 30 August 2010

laundry magic


Here is a lovely thought. Take your stained clothes, the ones you already put through the washing machine with stain remover (to no avail), and hang them on the line. Bring your stains to the sun, step back and watch them disappear. Just a bit of God’s magic for launderers everywhere.

~lg

Thursday, 26 August 2010

Single-handed Theology - Parenting

Typing with one hand is a little tricky. Arden sits on my lap and watches me tap this strange little contraption. I was just thinking about God’s mandate to the first humans – He tells them to become parents. There’s a big world that needs to be filled. God could have done it Himself. He could have created a whole human population. But He gives the fun of procreating and the charge of parenting to these two inexperienced creatures. Create more life! He says. See this beautiful world? Fill it up!

Perhaps in parenting we are able to mirror God’s image in a new way. We create something that is of us, yet wholly other. We learn to love someone who will bring us great joy and great pain.

This whole parenting enterprise is part of the plan. In one sense, it is what we were created to do. Create more life. Then love it.

I keep coming back to this question for some reason. Why life at all?

It must be because participating in God’s image is something worthy. It must be because love is better than non-existence.

~lg

Contentment

Contentment.

Slow down and think about it. Step out of the whirlwind of advertising, which only feeds your covetousness. Silence the inner voices of worry and fear.

In our society, it is a hidden virtue. It does not brand itself with blinking lights or scream for your attention. It reposes in the will of God, holding a simple invitation to peace.

It is the posture of the godly, for they know to whom they belong.

Tear up your wish list. Take a deep breath of trust. Now, here is something worthy of pursuit:

Righteousness
Godliness
Faith
Love
Endurance
Gentleness*

Godliness with contentment is great gain.


*1 Timothy 6:11



~lg

Thursday, 19 August 2010

common prayer

Father,

In the middle of the busiest day, I pause to remember that You are near to all who call on You, all who call on You in truth. In truth, I’m a little stressed and a little worried, a little weak and a little weary. In truth, I know You are in control, always strong and never faint of heart. The truth I find hardest to believe is that You want to be near to me. But here I am, with a hammer, a coffee and a baby and only two hands. I’m calling.

~lg

Tuesday, 17 August 2010

Letters to Arden - August 17, 2010

Dear Arden,

You’re three months old and already a thief and a stowaway! You boarded this ship and snuck down the stairs, down into the deepest curves of the hull. You found the treasure chest and stole my gold – my time, my energy, my attention, my love. You moved in and strung up a laundry line of diapers and darling smiles. I know your tricks. And now, you’re sleeping in that big wooden chest, snoring contentedly as the waves sing rock-a-bye baby. You’ve curled up with my heart and I don’t think I’ll be getting it back any time soon. You can have it all little thief. Just promise you’ll never leave.


~lg

Wednesday, 28 July 2010

Single-handed Theology - I've got a craving . . .

Single-handed theology: theology inspired by motherhood and often carried out with one hand on the baby.

“Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good." 1 Peter 2:2-3

Ever had a craving? Maybe for chocolate, or Frosty Treat ice cream, or a Big Mac, or that morning cup of coffee . . . mmm, I’m getting hungry just thinking about it.

I have a new appreciation for the word now that I’ve seen a newborn in action. When a newborn is hungry, you’ll know. If not by the frantic rooting and finger sucking, then by the inconsolable screams that are soon to come if you don’t get the milk in her mouth fast enough. A newborn’s craving for milk is not something that can be ignored. It’s all consuming.

So when I read this verse now, I wonder if I have the same sort of craving for soul food. Do I start to get a little crazy when I miss out on spiritual nourishment? Does my mouth water when I think of the Lord’s goodness, and does it make me search desperately for more? Of course, the craving is based in the first taste. Yes, you may have been hungry before that first experience of Jesus, but once you tasted, the pure goodness should keep you coming back for more. Have you tasted, truly drank in His goodness? And if you have, do you have that all consuming desire for more?

Too often I’m guilty of pacifier Christianity. I get a little hungry, a little dissatisfied, but instead of reaching out for the good stuff, I get distracted by something easier, the quick fix. How easily I am soothed by sticky sweet pop-culture, by the endless menu of entertainment paraded before me, and my salty self-rationalization. But it’s only temporary. There’s no long term satisfaction. So why do I keep stuffing myself with empty calories, or even a Christian-flavoured soother, when what I really need is a good long feeding from the source?

It’s time to grow up. Time to get a little frantic and drink deep.


~lg

Tuesday, 27 July 2010

Plumb - "Me"

morning


A quiet morning spent with you
Rocking, reading, singing, feeding
Your smiles set my heart a-beating
Nothing else I'd rather do
Than share this quiet morn with you


~lg

Letters to Arden - July 27, 2010

Dear Arden,

Sometimes in the early morning, when I strip you down and hold you close, you seem to me the newborn again. Soft skin, bright eyes, fuzzy hair. You fit perfectly in my arms, and we snuggle in a shared warmth.
Sometimes I close my eyes and remember the day of your birth, May 17, 2010. You were born at 8:48 am. I don't remember that moment, but you were the last prayer of my heart in the operating room and the first thought on my mind when I woke up. You were so tiny, a gift from God wrapped in your daddy's shirt. Loving strength and warmth were his first gifts to you.
Now I look in your deep blue eyes and see ten weeks of living. They've gone by so fast! But time stands still when we gaze at each other, and I know somehow you have always been part of my heart. And no matter how big, you always will.

~lg

Wednesday, 21 July 2010

Kingdom Sentry

A raven sits atop the storm-ragged spruce, watching with one gleaming eye turned toward me. She watches through the kitchen window, peering into the mundane events of laundry and email and rinsing blueberries. She watches the seconds tick by as I make my way clockwise around the day. She must hear the baby crying, and laughing, and the songs I sing when no one else is home. She sits, a silent silhouette, a sentry over my thoughts. I leave to go to town, and when I return three hours later she is still there. Black omen or heavenly messenger? She watches, and I imagine I read her mind. The kingdom of God is found in small things. She flies away, blown by a secret wind.

~lg

Sunday, 11 July 2010

Letters to Arden - July 11, 2010

Dear Arden,

Be brave, little girl. We will follow Christ. Up the higher ways, mountains too high for us, but He will give us hinds' feet to walk on the heights. We will follow His way. We will learn His steps.

Be brave, little girl. We will love like Christ. And you are already showing me how. He is teaching me through you, and as I learn, I will let the love lessons pass to you. We will wrap love and faithfulness around us, like I have swaddled you, so they will never leave us. He will never leave us.

Be brave, little girl. We may kneel in the thorns of suffering, but love will heal. We may fall on the slippery crags, but love will raise us. We may lose our way in the dark night of the soul, but love will find us. Christ will find us, bind us to Himself.

Be brave, little girl. You are loved. You are Christ's.

~lg

Letters to Arden - July 4, 2010

Dear Arden,

Tomorrow you will be seven weeks old! Seven is the number of perfection, and you are definitely perfect. Everything good about life and existence is bundled into eight or so pounds of you.
It makes me sad and angry to think of the ways we humans degrade and destroy the life, the goodness God gives. I don't want to think that anyone will ever hurt you or take away your innocence. Yet I also know that we are each capable of being masters of our own demise. You may be perfect, but life is also broken, and my heart breaks knowing one day you will wake to pain and suffering.
When God gives us children, I think He gives us a window into His heart. His heart rejoices, breaks, all because of love. And He is the way back to Goodness when life is less than perfect. I have discovered this, and I pray you will find it to be true when you need it to be.
In His goodness, He has also gifted us to bring love into our world. Together with the Spirit, we imagine new ways of living, and loving. There is hope for our world. There is a love that will not disappoint. There is a God who is Good.
His Goodness already shines in your deep blue eyes. I can't wait to see the ways God will love through you. You have already brought so much love into our hearts. He is rejoicing over you, and so am I.
And so, in your tiny seven weeks of perfection, I pray you will know Goodness, that will know our Perfect Father's heart. I pray His heart will become yours, and mine. And I pray I will bring His love into your world.

~lg

Monday, 5 July 2010

Letters to Arden - May 31, 2010


Arden,

You are here! Not the way I expected, but safely, soundly here. Becoming a mother has been baptism by tears. I cried when they told me I wouldn't be awake when you were born. I cried when I first saw your face cradled in daddy's arms. I cried through countless feedings, knowing my pain would keep you growing. I cried rocking you to sleep, because you were too beautiful for words.
And now you are starting to smile! It's a dopey smile of content mostly, right after a feeding, and in those warm moments when you are beginning to wake and haven't realized how hungry you are yet. In your smile I see glimpses of your personality, little peeks of what is to come.
And so I smile for you every day. I try to smile even when I'm in pain, when I'm tired, when I'm overwhelmed by all that is new, all that is you. I want you to see love in my face. I want you to know how happy I am that you are here.


~ lg
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