She doesn't listen. I've never had such a treasure in my home. The kind that makes me wonder whether her ears are hard of hearing or her heart is stuck in two-year-old pride. Sometimes I live the kind words. And other times I get ruined by grossness of my own sin.
This morning was such a morning. Out of the overflow of my heart came the raging me. The me that hits the last straw and just wants to throw my hands up and forget that I asked Him to clothe me in strength and dignity just this morning when the sun was rising and it was Him and I alone in my room.
In my own skin I flail, and I hurt their hearts and I wonder, how, if I know you Lord, how can I then continue to act the way that I sometimes do?
I escape for a moment into the basement, switch the laundry, lay my heart bare before... again.
It's only 8am. How are we going to make it through this day and bring you glory? How are we going to choose wisdom, kindness, others above ourselves in the hours that remain?
I confessed, searched my heart and found some truth that He has been writing there recently, took a deep breath, went back upstairs, sat on the rocker and called them all close...
I confessed my wrong, asked forgiveness.
They offered it freely... they always do.
But we were still in need of some hope.
Worship...
Worship always brings hope. I pushed power on our ihome, and through the speakers came words of praise.
And I tell the kids softly, "This one song... Let's listen together. The best part about worshiping God is that we can worship however we want... as long as our actions are wanting to tell Him, how much we love Him. You can dance, you can sing loud, or quietly, you can lift your hands high or fold them in your lap... whatever you do, do it ALL for Him."
The chorus creeps in and the praise gets louder and louder and I hear the words come through the speakers raining over my mistakes and making this day new...
"Our God is greater, our God is stronger, God You are higher than any other
Our God is Healer, awesome in power....."
He IS HEALER... everything in me breaths a sigh of relief.
There, in my living room with my arms stretched out long above my head and my eyes shut tight, I live surrender the only I know how... worship.
The song slows into the next verse and I open my eyes and I soak in each of them and the ways that they're learning to love Him...
My Hal is twirling her heart out.
"You can tell Him anything ya know," I throw it out there.
"I wanna tell you God, that I love you," Hal shouts as she spins and skips and throws her hands up in the air... her face is glowing and she's smiling with her whole body.
My Siah... He's mimicking his Mama with hands held high. I can see his lips moving. He knows the words by heart, he's heard them so many times. In the middle of the crowded room, he's lost and alone with His Jesus. You can see it all over his face, he's a bit unsure of his worship. I ask the same questions in my mind that he asks with his furrowed brow... "Is this pleasing to you Lord?" " Am I doing this thing called worship, right?" "Are my eyes closed tight enough? Are my hands held high enough? Am I , Lord, broken and wallowing in my own mudd, enough?"
I want to offer words of encouragement, lighten his feelings of inadequacy just a bit, but what comes to mind seems to simple. I say the words anyways, "He loves you just the way you are."
Siah opens his eyes and looks right into mine. "Am I doing it right Mama?"
"There's no right way to worship Si. As long as your heart is telling Him that you love Him... In whatever you do Si, do it all for the glory of God."
The skin on his face loosens and he smiles at me.
Then... little Reesie... the treasure that draws me to my knees. She's siting on the couch. Her hands are folded into one another and her face is a bit grouchy. She gets up off the couch and walks into my arms. I will confess that she is a hard one for me to read. I lift her up and begin to move with the music. She shouts my name, even though her mouth is a two inches from my ear...
"MOM?"
"Yes," I whisper back (because our life together(hers and mine) is this constant dance of shouting and whispering).
"Mom, can we have lunch?"
She's the real deal, and she's thinking more about lunch than anything else... and her thinking about lunch, doesn't phase Him one bit. In fact, He loves that she's thinking about lunch.
Family worship. We are four, together in a living room. All four of us are loaded with sin and soul issues. We need Him. We need Him, because without Him we're empty. If we don't come together and worship Him, how then will we be renewed, restored, able to make it through the next minute, the next hour, the next day?
We come together to worship. It's messy and it never really looks the way I think that it possibly should... sometimes they're thinking about lunch... but still... still He comes... still He makes new... Even still He loves.
The song slows to an end. All eyes are open and we look around at one another.
I break the silence with a final apology, "Sorry guys for this morning."
"Let's just try again Mom," Siah suggests.
"Ya, let's just try again," I say.
Another session of raw and real family worship lived...
