SPRING RAINS

I have always had a love/hate relationship with spring. On the one hand, I enjoy watching Mother Nature come alive in all her glory: green grass, budding trees, violets, lilacs, and a chorus of birds. Sweet soul food!

On the other hand, however, spring typically means a season of rain. I have never handled this season well. For me, the gray skies bear down with a heavy depression and an urge to sleep until forever. My bones ache, my heart weeps for reasons completely unknown, and my whole being is so disgusted with all. that. mud!

Becoming a mother emphasized the emotional conflict of this annual season for me. As soon as it is warm enough, children want to be outside. As soon as it was warm enough, I wanted to be inside: windows open, kettle simmering, coffee mug handy, up to my elbows in cleaning supplies! A house through which spring breezes blow is a house in which no dust bunnies grow, right? Wrong.

The mother in me was compelled to trade dancing with the mop for ring-around-the-rosy every. single. time. And how is cleaning cobwebs ever more fun than blowing dandelion seeds in the wind? Until the fair-skined became the sunburned, the insect-bitten became the allergy-stricken, and the puddle jumping became mountains of laundry. UGH! Where is this work/life balance you speak of?

I am entirely uncertain what is making the difference these days: the prairie lifestyle or my middle age. For whatever reason, I am finding myself drawn to rainy days. I love to open the window at my desk and breathe in the smell of fresh rainfall. I love the sound of the wind, skies the color of a warm, wool blanket ... and the coffee that warms from the inside out.

I find myself doing a different sort of cleaning this spring. It's a soul cleansing of sorts. A long look at the people in my life and the purpose of my life. I am discovering how to shed unnecessary layers, such as  guilt and shame and unforgiving gossips: I am growing into a more comfortable coat of self-acceptance. I am soaking up times of refreshing, and then - similar to a sponge - able to pour out love on those around me.

For the first time, I look forward to the rainy days. They smell of change and hope. Finally. ♡

I AM SEEN

I am busy and tired. I pray every day; I ask God to lead me in His favor. I don't have time to read my Bible and journal ... maybe later.

I am interrupted and startled. I am stopped in my tracks. I can't breathe. I need wisdom. Anxiety creeps in, and so does shame. I am on a roller coaster of emotions; I want off.

I am busy. I am trying to stay busy so I don't have time to think. I am hurt. A coworker hugs me and I begin to sob. I am a mess. I am hurting and afraid and ashamed and excited and ... I feel alone.

I deactivate my main social media account. I log into an old account. There it is: a rference to El Roi - the God who sees me. I must make time to hear His voice. 

I reach for my journal. I search today's Bible reading online.  

 "Then Balaam gave this message:

“This is the message of Balaam son of Beor,
    the message of a man who sees clearly;
16 this is the message of a man who hears the words of God.
    I know well the Most High God.
I see a vision from the Almighty,
    and my eyes are open as I fall before him." (Numbers 24:15 NCV)

Switch to 1 Corinthians 13; wait ... isn't this "the love chapter"? Yes, but look - right at the end. Verse 12 says, "...Now we see a dim reflection, as if we were looking into a mirror, but then we shall see clearly. Now I know only a part, but then I will know fully, as God has known me."

There it is. Balaam hears God, and sees Him clearly. God sees ME ... but am I seeing Him? Oh that my heart would learn to run to Him instead of running from life! That I may know Him!

No God, no peace; know God, know peace. 

Thank You, Heavenly Father, for the reminder. Anxieties melt and shame is covered and peace descends like a serene fog. You see me. You are with me. El Roi.