The blog was supposed to expire today.
I’ve been getting letters and emails for months warning me of the upcoming death sentence.
Honestly? That was just fine with me. I let the statements gather dust, one on top of the other, thinking maybe it will all just slip my mind and one day I will find myself unfortunately too late to renew.
But it didn’t slip my mind. In fact it took up so much space I was forced into prayer. A whisper barely audible from a distant heart.
“Lord, You don’t really need me to do this right now, do You? I don’t have anything to give.”
Which was true. Is true. How can I share when I am too busy to receive?
I find myself in this struggle especially when I am pregnant. My blood runs to the center of my womb and my thoughts dance in circles about all things baby, and everything else loses my interest. My energy drops, my pillow beckons… the Bible sits. Again, and again, and again.
It doesn’t take long ya know. I’m thankful that it works that way. It doesn’t take long until joy slips away, discontentment creeps in, and somehow my first response is to love myself full again.
And the Bible sits while I converse with the lies.
“You need to be this.”
“You need to accomplish that.”
“This is the problem.”
I bend my back.
In a land filled with glamorous pyramids, a deceived heart bent on feeling full will need one of these. A beautiful, tall, pyramid that others will admire and approve of. Something that will make a splash on social media because how full-filling will that second be?
I bend my back. That’s kind of laughable. What sort of bricks do I even have to work with? None really, but when it’s a battle of the mind, the spirit, it doesn’t matter whether you have the bricks piled high or not. They both need to be higher. Better. You need to be more than what you are. You must gain approval. Love of self cracks a hard whip. Another statement comes in the mail. I bury the red deadline out of sight.
Later at Bible study we piece apart the parable of the talents. It’s the one about the three servants, each given different sums of their master’s money, and all of them held responsible for what they did with it. I’ve always felt bad for the last guy, the safe one. That would have been how I would handle someone else’s money. Burying it means there is no risk of losing it. Shouldn’t he be rewarded for handing it all back in the exact condition it was given him?
A few years back I realized that I was reading this parable all wrong. What was given to those servants wasn’t something perishable or losable. It was truth.
“Then he who had received the one talent came and said, ‘Lord, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you haven’t sown, and gathering where you have not scattered seed. And I was afraid, and went and hid your talent in the ground. Look, there you have what is yours.’” Matthew 25:24-25
And my heart pricked at the table because I still could relate to that servant.
“You are requiring too much of me. My culture, my generation does not want to hear the Word anymore. I am afraid, and quite honestly I want their approval, so let me just put this in the ground for a season. Look, here is Your truth, buried right over there. Have what is Yours.”
Sometimes it takes voicing my thoughts for me to realize the gravity of the situation. Is this really why I want to let this blog go? Have I no fear of the Master I serve?
“But his lord answered and said to him, ‘You wicked and lazy servant, you knew that I reap where I have not sown, and gather where I have not scattered seed…’”
Yes, this is going to make you uncomfortable. Yes, I know how the fields look, but I reap even in the most unexpected places.
All this heart stuff is going on at the perfect time. It’s Passover this evening. There is no sweeter feast to me than that of Yeshua’s salvation.
We will drink the juice and eat the bread and enter into the covenant of our Savior.
We will search our homes and hearts for leaven, and remove it. Whether that be sin, or an area of deception, pride, or selfishness, all these things have to go.
We will eat bitter herbs and remember, this Egypt is not our land. We have been redeemed and led out! We don’t have to be a slave of comparison. We don’t have to gain approval. I can let these paper pyramids go and worship, really worship the God who has given me life, the God who has given us life.
This blog isn’t expiring, although my heart’s an honest work in progress.
I am not saying that I will write often, because you mamas in the house know why.
Yesterday I had to answer more questions than mentally possible: (I am not making any of these up)
“How deep was that puddle we just drove through?” – Um… 2 inches? I don’t know.
“How many miles per hour did my hand wheesh through the air?” – Wheesh?
“What is air?” – Can’t we handle this question in eighth grade?
“How hard were your spankings when you were a kid?” – Very hard, son.
“No, like a number how hard?” – 8. Definitely an 8.
“What is taller- a humpback whale or a building?” – Well, the whale is taller than some buildings but not taller than a skyscraper.
“What is a skyscraper?” – Why did I say skyscraper?
“How many miles per hour is that squirrel running?” – Who knows these things? Let’s say 3 miles per hour.
My son has these big blue eyes full of curiosity and his questions are a constant string of conversation. Sometimes I imagine myself putting an end to all of them, with hands outstretched and face taut. “NO MORE STINKING QUESTIONS!” but then I remember that one day in elementary school. My teacher had his teeth clenched underneath a plastered smile. “Well, Aubrie, you certainly like to ask questions don’t you?”
I did. I do.
My daughter loves to talk, especially when her brother is a talking. They have this “Let’s see who can talk the loudest” competition multiple times a day.
My belly is large. And active. All. Night. Long.
I love being a mom. This phase is demanding but passing so quickly.
So I am not going to be a consistent blogger, but if the Lord lays something on my heart, I don’t want to bury it or sugarcoat it.
And I don’t want to be too busy to receive it. I’ve learned this lesson time and time again, everything my heart longs for is only found in Him.
“I, even I, am He who comforts you. Who are you that you should be afraid of a man who will die, and the son of man who will be made like grass? And you forget the Lord your Maker, Who stretched out the heavens and laid the foundations of the earth… I am the Lord your God, Who divided the sea whose waves roared- the Lord of Hosts is His name. And I have put my words in your mouth..” Isaiah 51