Last night was wonderful. With the summation of General Conference and the words of a living prophet, my heart was happy as my sweetheart and I discussed the gems we heard.
But today has been a tornado of terribleness. Boys crying and falling off chairs and puzzles missing pieces and I sit and wonder what pieces are missing in me. Why is this all so hard? Why can I not be just stronger and just truer and just better and just…something that I’m lacking?
I remember Ann’s words I read last night when all was peaceful and still and just perfect. And today with the turmoil the words are being put to the test:
“Eucharisteo makes the knees the vantage point of a life and I bend and the body, it says it quiet: ‘Thy will be done.’ This is the way a body and a mouth say thank you: Thy will be done. This is the way the self dies, falls into the arms of Love.” ~Ann Voskamp, one thousand gifts
I felt it last night after prayer and while I quietly pondered. I gave my will to Him and in response, a waterfall of joy and peace washing over me, making me feel cleansed and pure.
But in the here and now, the rush and franticness, the helter and skelter, the tears and the anger, “this fallen world [that] never stops dis-membering and we all break apart a bit more everyday,” I am put to the test. But what else could I expect when for Christmas I gave Him a gift of thanks, Eucharisteo, that would evolve into a new way of life for me and my family?
Do I not believe that He will therefore give me a chance to practice this Eucharisteo every day and perhaps every moment? But what of when I don’t feel joy brimming and overflowing? What of the reality of diapers and laundry and stubbed toes and dishes and piano lessons and keeping the peace with a house of 3 boys? What of the times when my heart fills empty and alone and angry?
This is the time when I can follow what I read from Ann last night:
“And I humbly open my hand to release my will to receive His, to accept His wind. I accept the gift of now as it is — accept God — for I can’t be receptive to God unless I receive what He gives.”
And this too:
“True saints know that the place where all the joy comes from is far deeper than that of feelings; joy comes from the place of the very presence of God. Joy is God and God is joy and joy doesn’t negate all other emotions–joy transcends all other emotions.”
~Ann Voskamp, one thousand gifts
So I keep counting and scrawling the gifts and little by little, with hands cupped, the winds start to cease–if not all around me then at least in my heart. And my “I can’t do this,” turns into “We can.”
Because the piece that was missing I can find everyday in Him and in seeing Him in every moment, every eyelash, every sound, ever tear. He is here…giving me good gifts and I have cracked the code and will continue to re-crack it daily until it becomes in essence a very part of me.
“In the remembering to give thanks, our broken places are re-membered — made whole.” ~Ann Voskamp
#175. Sunlight lacing edges of dark cloud
#183. Reminding myself that yes, even this is grace
#187. Not losing my temper once today
#202. Feeling the bread broken and the water cool–both healing my soul
#205. Prompting to call Mom and talk to her about my grace-trial
#223. Beethoven’s Sonate drifting through my ears melancholy and somber and poignant
#227. Quiet moment in the Word
#228. Funny texts from sweetheart the make me smile
#230. Nudges to carry this notebook everywhere
#238. Warm purple socks snuggling cold feet
#239. Thinking of summer
#243. Day all mended with a call to my best friend
#253. Seeing my distorted reflection in the steel of cheese grater–reminding me that I see through a glass, darkly. There is no veil veiling His view and perspective.
#260. Seeing the good adventure in living with family this year.
#279. A daily routine that finally words–Breakfast, chores, Sunrise Devotional, Preschool, lunch, naps, laundry and movie, playtime, scriptures and journals, bedtime
#280. Knowing soon I will have a Sabbath routine that will work.
#301. Warm, unseen hands on shoulders comforting me through my doctor’s visit
#304. Little Bug running all cuddly to my lap.
#316. Needing more tape which seemed like storm of hail but was really grace because it led me to the store where I found the miracle of the 40 teal totes each $2.00
#318. Kind man fetching my lids when they blew away in the ferocious 35-40 mile an hour wind then going with me the extra mile to my car to keep the lids from flying away again.
#319. After completely dying, car starting again after a heartfelt prayer and many attempts.
#332. Trusting the Lord to cradle my day
#334. April 1st sunshine
#339. Rustles of pages and clicks of marker lids–the sound of boys coloring
#344. Little Bug saying “blanket” for the first time
#353. Little Bug wanting me to hold him all day-those days are so limited
#356. Little boys in little socks running in the sunshine and riding trikes
#359. Joy cackle of Little Bug on the swing for the first time this Spring. Last year he went through a phase of fear for swings. Had he just forgotten the magical wonder of it all?
#360. Waking up to Little Bear’s voice singing, “Conference is today, Conference is today!”
#361. Spirit blanketing home today with General Conference streaming to our eyes and ears
#374. Bedlamites laughing manically while rolling on the ground.
#383. Little Bug’s “Thank you Mommy’s.”
