The Blanket

As I’ve sorted through our baby things, deciding what to give to friends, what to donate and what to tuck away for keepsakes, my heart ached as I held onto the well-worn flannel receiving blankets that have swaddled each of our little ones.  Treasured within the soft linen were memories of those first days and months when our babies began their lives.  These blankets were thrown over our shoulders as we’d gently pat their backs and help ease their bellies.  Blankets that each baby was wrapped perfectly in by Daddy to remind them of the closeness they knew within my womb.  They were faded and stained and the sweet smell of innocence still lingered.  I held them close, remembering those precious moments.  As our little ones have grown, some of these were used by our girl to wrap up her baby dolls as she’d take the role of mama and fill it so well.  They’ve wrapped a cat or two, been used for capes and made their way through each stage as we’ve tried to keep up with the fleeting days.  This mama who doesn’t hang on to much, couldn’t bear the thought of letting them go so I tucked them away. 

One day when our town was buried in over two feet of snow, I pulled them out again.  Among these I also had one that was my husband's when he was a baby and one that had been mine.  I didn’t want these blankets to be stored away for memories to be recalled later.  There were still memories to be made.  I decided to stitch them together, just as our family has been. 

Beings that I’m not an experienced seamstress I laid it out on our kitchen table how I wanted it to end up and stared, confused and scared to mess it up.  I debated on whether or not I should do it or if I should pass it on to any number of well-able seamstresses I know.  I called in my husband and asked him for advice on what to do and as usual he gave me a place to start and helped me each time I would get stuck.  At one point we had it clamped to the doorway to hang straight so I could pin it.  I even sewed the wrong ends together and had to strip several feet of seam and begin again. One by one I pieced our blankets together and called on my mom and quilter-friend when I needed their advice.  Somehow in the midst of all my mistakes it was still coming together and turning out better than I had imagined. 

This blanket…

There is unevenness where I wanted straight lines.

There are bumps where I wanted it to be smooth.

             Mistakes were made and there are tears hidden beneath view.

             It isn’t by a professional but by one whose heart is swollen with love.

             There are memories laced in the fading and stains. 

             It isn’t perfect but it is ours.

As I was carefully and slowly finishing the seams and nearing being completed, I realized how much this blanket compared to mamahood.  I started out much the same way when our first son was born, confused and fearful of not getting it right.  In many ways I’d ask my husband, who had more experience with babies than I, what to do next.  Many things involved in this role that I could have passed on to outside help, to others who may be more qualified, experienced or knowledgeable than I, but things that by the grace of God I have been able to fill for my family.  We haven’t done it all the typical way, we’ve had to make our own path, find what has worked for us and find where God has willed us.  We’ve utterly messed up, got it all wrong and have had to seemingly start again.  I am daily brought to my knees pleading for help and asking advice from a Father who knows the depths of their hearts far greater than I.  

There is a God piecing together the story of our lives into His Bigger Story. 

                There will be unevenness but He will make your paths straight. (Proverbs 3:6)

                There will be bumps but He will make rough places smooth.  (Isa. 45:2)

                Mistakes will be made and hearts will be torn but He is close to those hidden in Him. (Ps 34:18)

                A story made by the Creator of all things, the Father whose hearts is swollen with love for His Children.

                Embrace the worn-in, weary, stained places that have brought you where you are.

                This life isn’t perfect, but it is ours to live.    

He is creating a beautiful masterpiece within yours…

 

Treasure in the Dirty Places

It’s a mama’s worst nightmare – the dirt filled spaces beneath the cupboards, the oven, the fridge, and in the cushions of the couch.  Those places that might label us as less-than, as a failure or a mess.  The spaces that we often forget when we clean house.  The areas that are just too hard to get to.  The places where no one looks, possibly out of respect, but maybe also out of fear of just what may be found!  But we’ve all had at least one time when a visitor was searching for a lost set of keys, or something of the sort, and dared to lift the cushion...and as the cushion lifted, we can remember vividly how our hearts seemed to pause, waiting for the horror to be revealed:  would it simply be a coin they found or would it be a melted chocolate bar or something even worse?!  I bet that no matter what they saw, you probably shared a good laugh and I bet they came over again.  Why? 

Because it’s completely normal.

It’s one of his favorite things to do, he gets the flashlight and searches for anything worth finding.  He laid flat out on the floor and looked under everything intently.  I watched and felt my heart well with joy at his innocence. 

He was treasure hunting.  In the dirty places.

My boy wasn’t searching the toy box we just cleaned up, he was looking in the places I would rather turn a blind eye toward.  He pointed and repeated “ball, ball, mom-mom, ball,” as he excitedly beckoned me to pull it out for him.   I got down on my knees and looked past all the…well…you know, and got the ball for my precious child. 

Oh, how my heart needed the simple words He whispered.  I’ve been in such desperate need of His grace, of His forgiveness and of His love.  Yet I feel so unworthy as the “dirt-filled” places of my heart are revealed as His Holy light shines like a flood-light. I want to take all the times I raise my voice, lose my temper, and fall disturbingly short and brush them somewhere no one else can see.  But there’s almost always the eyes of those I love the most.  Little lives looking for an example to follow and reflecting that which they are given.  There’s a husband who just lavishes love upon this heart who is anything but deserving of it.  I am guilty of being imperfect, of most-often feeling as though I have nothing to offer and fearing that somehow I will let Him down.  I want to hide it, to cover it all and invite Him into a heart that is put-together, that pleases Him with good works and good words and feels like I have something good to offer.

But the Truth is that He wants none of that. 

          He didn’t come for my good works. 

          He didn’t come for the good words I want to speak. 

          He didn’t come for the times I feel good and feel like opening up my heart to Him.   

No, He came for it all. 

Because He alone is good.  It is His strength that is made perfect in my weakness.  It is His mercy that is made new every morning.  It is His grace that is sufficient.  What pleases Him most is when I lay down my life for His sake.  Not when I pick it all up and simply hand Him pieces that, from my earth-bound perspective, may fit sufficiently into His eternal plan.  Somehow I lose sight of the cross and I try to be god of my own life, planning and tidying places that can only be washed by His blood.  Un-necessary striving in a work that's already been completed on the cross.

 It is in the willingly open heart that beauty can be found.  The life that is laid at the foot of the cross to be used by the God who was willing to send His Only Son and pour grace over our aching souls.  Grace that says we are enough, even in the broken and fallen state we are in.  We are good because of His goodness. 

 Just like my boy was seeking through all the dirty, hidden places to find the treasure of a blue ball, our God seeks us.  He looks through all the muck and mire, the places no one else dare to look, the places where shame and guilt dwell.  His light floods it until treasure is found.  He is the One who makes all things new, who relentlessly seeks the lost and finds treasure in the most unexpected places.  He sees our hearts in the condition they are in, honestly, vulnerably and He loves us just the same.   

Because those dirty places?  Those places we think only we keep hidden? 

Well, they are completely normal.

They are part of this fallen world and we all have them.  What matters most is what we choose to do with them.  Will we stay hidden and settle for a life of less-than?  Or will we trust in His goodness and lay it all before Him as a treasure to be found by the Most-High, Holy King?  As His light dispels the darkness of our hearts, we shine for Him.  We no longer hang our heads with veiled faces, hoping no one notices or sees us for who we are.  It is through Him that we are made whole, where our confidence is placed and where we find life to the full.   He comes close to His precious children and He shows us the places that need His touch and that’s where the treasure is found.  It’s where the most brilliant stones lay waiting. 
 

 

“The LORD does not look at the things people look at. 

People look at outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”  1 Samuel 16:7

 

"For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost."  Luke 19:10

“Let your light so shine before men that they may see your moral excellence and your praiseworthy, noble, and good deeds and recognize and honor and praise and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” Matthew 5:16 AMP

I Am Sought After

He comes home to a mama who is worn out from a day of outnumbering.  A mama whose likely not showered, whose hair is all undone and tangled, whose clothes are worn.  A mama whose exhaustion can get the best of her words, whose hunger tends to speak out of turn, whose let her guard down and allowed all the ugly to seep right out of her heart.  But that’s just this mama’s perspective.  Because when you look at it from the view of the man walking through the door – he is coming home to what is his, what is treasured, what matters the most. 

He does it almost every time – seeks after me, like a man of the field whose gaze is held by the amazing creation of his God.  When the door or the curtain closes, he opens them wide, looking for his lover, longing for a moment.  When my heart is troubled and my eyes ready to weep, he simply says it, a few simple words and the flood of it all pours out.  He just looks back at me, compassionately letting the rushing waters pass until the stillness comes and I am me again and I can breathe.  When my thousand words come up short and leave me searching, he whispers one single line that shatters the darkness.  He finds me in a room full and he draws me ever so close, where comfort is found and felt. 

Somehow he looks past all that is distracting in the present places and sees a beauty that is held only for him.  He seeks the treasure that is always changing, because his love for me refuses to change.  As my body stretches and scars and wears, like a seeker, he holds it like something more precious than gold.   Through the mess, he finds a life lived at his side: through the better and through the worse; a life who has held life and who has let go of life – lives we’ve loved, lives we’ve created, life as we have known it time and again.  He finds unpolished nails of the one who is far from polished in any way – but whose hands gently tend to their young, bake his meals, trace the lines of his palms, and knead the aches in his back.  He finds the real me under all the layers of ugly pride and defiance.  And when life throws a wall our way and we hit it straight on, his is the hand whose grasps mine and reaches out to God. 

All this searching for me that he has done relentlessly for the past fourteen years, this pursuit he is on that he will not give up on, it’s done by grace because I don’t deserve it.  I don’t often feel like a treasure worth being uncovered, unearthed.  But it’s how he sees me, the real me and I don't need to deserve it because it's something he chooses to give. 

 

It was all resting right under the surface, but it wasn't yet clear.  I knew God was trying to speak through this man I love so dearly but so many other voices were too loud and I couldn’t hush them.  Then in the darkness of the night, he did it, he spoke it, the river ran and maybe peace could be found. 

Then it came, highlighted in pink, underlined in blue, to get it across and speak it loud, God seeking this unsettled heart:

                “For the Lord delights in you and will claim you as his own.”

                                                                                Isaiah 62:4

My heart breathed deep the sigh of relief, because in the mess of it all, through all the questions and wonderings and wanderings – our God seeks.  He seeks us, delights in us and claims us as his own. 

I read on, because I couldn’t read enough, the words kept coming, the hope kept flooding and then the last verse of 62 stopped me, pounded through my heart, it breathed life into the silence.  The words that whispered louder than everything else, that brought all that I had been seeing into the open and made it clear:

                “They will be called a Holy People, the Redeemed of the LORD;
                                and you will be called Sought After…”

                                                                                Isaiah 62:12

I am Sought After.

Not only by my husband, but by the God of the Universe.  The God who seeks me even more passionately than the fierce passion of my love, my love who loves me straight like a Song of Songs.  The God whose entire love letter to us all is written from Genesis to Revelation, every word breathed upon in love and mercy. 

You are Sought After.

You may not feel like one worthy of a seeker, but you have One and He is relentless in His pursuit.  Yes, relentless in chasing after that heart inside of yourself that feels like it can barely beat one more time.  He sees right past all the things that have messed us up, have undone us thoroughly and He finds a treasure worth finding.  His pursuit is not something we can earn or one that few of us deserve, it is something He longs to freely give to each one willing to be found.

You are worthy of a Seeker. 

Worthy of being discovered and treasured. 

Worthy of being found. 

             

“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost.”

                                                                        Luke 19:10

“…can you imagine the breathtaking recovery life makes, sovereign life, in those who grasp with both hands this wildly extravagant life-gift, this grand setting-everything-right, that the one man Jesus Christ provides?”

                                                                                                 Romans 5:17

I got into the car for a quick trip to the store.  It was a rare occasion when I could be found by myself and just like the man who, when I’m alone, finds me to capture a moment, there He was.  His voice whispering and being heard.  His words singing the anthem of where my heart rests:

              “I believe everything that You say You are

                I believe and I have seen Your unchanging heart
                In the good things and in the hardest part

                              I believe and I will follow You
                              I believe and I will follow You.”

                                                                                   "I Will Follow" by Jon Guerra

Breathe in, be still and let yourself be found
             by the One Savior who bears the scars of death overcome to bring you life,
             by the One Faithful Father who holds you as the apple of His eye,
             by the One Mighty King who is sovereign and claims you as His own, 

You are Sought After. 



Listen to "I Will Follow You" here