Sacred Mundane: The Blog

• The beach day: Exactly what we needed.
• Kids playing for hours and hours and hours with nothing but water, sand, and their amazing imaginations. 

• Curled up under a sleeping bag together, leaning against a rock, watching our two little miracles do tricks in the sand.
• Jeff giving a dozen horsey-rides and AT-AT walker rides.

• Peanut butter sandwiches.
• Peaches that melt in your mouth.
• A day peppered with trials.
• Asking God to make us new.
• Seeing fruit in our kids.
• 8.5 mile run this morn!
• Getting on our knees.
• Trusting Him.
• Feeling so very weak and inadequate, reminded He is strong and more than adequate.
• The last few blackberries.
• A quiet house.
• Clean sheets.
• Clinging to Him.

Growing up, there was an embroidered picture and poem, hand-sewn by my mom and framed in a simple wooden frame. It hung on the wall of our living room. I can still see it hanging there in my mind’s eye. I read it so often it’s etched in my memory. It now hangs in my kids’ bedroom, just to remind me:

Cleaning and scrubbing will wait ’till tomorrow

Children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow

So quiet down cobwebs! Dust go to sleep!

I’m rocking my baby. Babies don’t keep.

And so today, I’m “rocking” my babies … by throwing housework (and 52 bites!) to the wind and driving to the beach. We haven’t seen the ocean at all this summer, and they will only be 3 and 5 this one time!

I pray no matter what your day looks like, you are able to savor whatever it is that will someday be gone. A child, a parent, a glass of lemonade. However profound or however simple, may you enjoy today for what it is — a gift. Happy Friday; Thanks so much for reading.

A common theme in our faith-journey recently has been that God really likes letting us run out of options. He loves leading us into corners and getting us stuck. I’ll share more from our lives next week, but check out this interesting way that God led His people in Scripture:

“Then the LORD said to Moses, ‘Tell the people of Israel to turn back and encamp in front of Pi-hahiroth, between Migdol and the sea, in front of Baal-zephon; you shall encamp facing it, by the sea” (Ex.14:1-2).

First off, God tells them to turn around and go back.  Did God make a mistake?  Of course not.   He’s training them …will they listen?

I often ask Dutch & Heidi to do things at home, just for practice.   There’s no purpose to it other than to train them to listen attentively to my voice–which is an important purpose indeed!

So God tells them to turn around, that they need practice at carefully obeying the voice of the LORD because they are about to take a HUGE step of faith, right?  Little do they know what they’ll be doing tomorrow!

So they turn back and God tells them exactly where to camp. Not just a general area, they are to camp right by the sea. And not just by the sea, but in a spot that corners them by the sea.  They are to face the sea. To look straight into an impasse. Then what happens?

God brings Pharaoh.  And six-hundred of his chosen chariots and all the other chariots of Egypt with officers over all of them.  They all came out.

So, because of carefully listening to the voice of the LORD, the children of Israel are stuck.  Cornered.  Up against the sea with thousands of Pharaoh’s guys coming after them. And the result?

“They feared greatly.” (v.10)

No kidding!  They were scared out of their wits!  They instantly cry out to God and lament, “Is it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us out to die in the wilderness?”  No more are they thankful for the miraculous deliverance in the Passover. And understandably. They have been led into a corner and are facing certain death.

But of course we all know what happens. God parts the Red Sea, all the nation of Israel is saved, and all of Pharaoh’s army and chariots are swallowed up in the sea and lost.  In one fell swoop God fights the entire battle for them.

And all they had to do was walk.

Because the real battle had already been won. The battle of obeying God.

What’s the point?  Well, for today the lesson for me is simply that God does indeed lead us into corners. He leads us into circumstances where the only way out is God. There is nowhere to run, hide, fight.  We’re stuck in a corner against the Red Sea. And that is where He loves to flex His muscles, doing what only the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords can do.

Since He created that sea by a simple word, He is able to part it rather effortlessly.

What corner are you facing today?  Where are you stuck? Is there a circumstance that seems hopeless? A situation where you have no options?  Where you throw your hands in the air and say, “I give up!” That’s great.

Obey His voice and stay right there in that stuck spot.

Then look up.

Chances are the waters are just about to part.

Thanks for reading.

Revisiting this, reminding myself what matters:

It’s early but feels late. (Is 6pm too soon to put kids to bed?)

Last weekend was the most physically and emotionally exhausting weekend of my life. I’m tired.

I finish the dishes of the big salmon dinner Jeff didn’t get to eat. Resist the urge to medicate with chocolate. “Ok, bath time, pick up your toys!” Kids scurry, pick up toys. Begin to head upstairs. I look around. These kids must be half blind. Call them back down to get the rest.

Dutch looks around, bewildered. “What other toys?”

Is it a boy thing?

We finish. Head up. An issue of delayed obedience (which is disobedience) demands attention. There are tears. They are tired too.  Bodies are cleaned but washing hair is a war. Little bodies, slippery like fish, are wrapped in towels. I notice the smell. Glance over at the laundry basket. It towers, taunting me. Tomorrow, I tell myself.

They’re just getting settled when it hits — the ravenous bedtime hunger. “May I please have something to eat?” Which from Heidi’s mouth sounds like, “May I peese ‘ave froggy to eat?”  For some reason “something” always sounds like “froggy.”  I remember their non-existent appetite at dinner when salmon was served. Suddenly that appetite has returned with a vengeance. After banana, cheese, and a baggie of tomatoes, they ask for more but I draw the line. I kiss them both and turn toward the door.

Out the door, in the hall, I exhale the sigh of relief, but stop in the hall. My room, the bed, the computer, the escape, it calls. Beckons. Lures. Come, be DONE. DONE. DONE.

I haven’t prayed with them. I haven’t told them how much God loves them. I’ve cared for their bodies but neglected their souls. My flesh is so weak the truth is I just want to close my bedroom door and be done.

I turn around and enter in.

I kneel, curl up beside Dutch and lean in close to his puppy-breath, kiss his cheeks. I pray God’s goodness and favor and blessing and grace over his life, then tell him how much God loves him and I do too.

“Mommy, I love you so much.”

I almost missed this.

Head into Heidi’s room. She’s already heavy-eyed and sucking her thumb, curls spilled over her pillow. I pray. Tell her as well how much God loves her and I do too.

“Mommy I yuv you.”

How could I have considered missing this?

I slide under my covers. Write this. Read a precious email from another tired mom. Close the laptop lid and snuggle down into darkened silent bliss. Close my eyes, yes.

“Mommy!! May I please have more cheese?!”

–

{Happy mid-week, and thanks for reading.}