A few days ago I emailed a few prayer partners, asking for some extra prayers as we find ourselves totally wiped out from a semester of uphill, barefoot, mountain-moving spiritual and physcial and emotional battling.
And you know what their beautiful responses reminded me of?
We haven't been alone in that.
Not only because many have been standing with us and praying and helping, but also because A LOT OF PEOPLE are really struggling and hurting right now! As I've shared our struggles, many of you have shared yours, and man alive, there is just a lot of hurting and broken right now. It is NOT only Haiti, it is not only here, it is not only us.
I am blogging right now, in the middle of the day with another cup of coffee and the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir and no children, because I hit my low this morning.
I've been trying to carry extra so that Matt can get the rest he needs, and with the youngest two kiddos quite sick and whiny and clinging, I have been living out of a very thin, un-showered, lack of sleep kind of a place.
I needed to get to church this morning, but with the vomit-comit and the boogie-king, I couldn't. I was trying...trying to hold onto my patience with a sermon on TV and kiddos who wouldn't sit still and listen with their hands folded in their laps. (imagine!) Trying to hold onto my grace through a mountain of dishes. Trying to hold onto my strength with a mess around me and continual whining to boot.
Please wait until Ben goes down for sleep, I must have said 13 times to the three girls begging for manicures. Please wait until Ben goes down for sleep, and then I will paint ALL your nails.
The oldest who got out the nail polish anyway, just waiting, for when it was time. Please wait until Ben goes down for sleep.
The middle who picked out her colors while they waited. Please wait until Ben goes down for sleep.
The four year old who suddenly needed a towel for a little mess.
The smell of nail polish remover. Please wait until Ben goes down for sleep!
To exiting the kitchen with soapy hands trying to attack the dishes and cling to my last ounce of energy, patience, and grace...only to see Ben, covered, I MEAN COVERED with nail polish from his neck to his belly to his hands and feet, the floor, covered in nail polish, Nora, wiping hot purple nail polish all over the tiles with one of my good kitchen towels as hard as she could. Ben, rubbing purple into every crack.
Poor Bill, back from church, just happened to come to the screen door right then for I-never-even-found-out why, and oh man.
Someone was covered in nail polish and webs of baby snot and crying hot overflows of tears like it was life and death, and it may have been me.
It was just purple nail polish and kids who despite their best efforts to obey, just couldn't quite.
But it severed the last strand I had left of Stacey, keeping it all together.
I have fought and fought and fought, I have been strong and courageous. I have fought some million battles, against fear, against worry, against threats, against heartbreak, against instability, against despair.
And a tiny bottle of nail polish did me in.
A minute later Julie was sitting in the fumes with me, crying simply because I was crying, like a good good friend. Ben bathed and in bed a few minutes later, she swept off the kids to her already full house and visiting team.
She said I should take a nap.
And she is right, sleep is one of the things this sick-toddler-mommy has be needing.
But first.
I needed fed. Fed fed. Real, satisfying food.
Not sure where to go, I just pulled out my next reading for the day as I wrap up the Bible this 2019.
Job. seriously? Job?
I didn't think I could handle hearing about his totally overwhelming problems today. Can't handle any more problems.
Give me somebody rolling in goodness, Lord.
Job 1-3. Tomorrow?
Job 4-7, Job 8-11.
Job.
So I sat here in the dust with Job, scraping at my wounds with shards of brokenness, and oh, the richness of His mercy.
Before the end of the very first chapter, more nightmares coming even before the last messenger could get out his horrifying news, Job was TOTALLY crushed.
Just totally overwhelmed with the ridiculous heaviness of loss after loss after loss.
For over 30 chapters, I read and read and read through his misery. Through his questions. Through his despair. Through his struggle to understand. To find answers. To be blameless. To deal with it all.
And in the end, chapter 38, the Lord answered him 'from the whirlwind' with 'where were you?' and the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir sings about losing everything, everything, but never losing their praise, and I am left here with the pungent smell of loss and nail-polish remover still hanging in the air, with just the richness of his mercy and Psalm 31.
How great is the goodness you have stored up for those who fear you,
You lavish it upon those who come to you for protection,
blessing them before the watching world.
You hide them in the shelter of your presence,
safe from those who conspire against them
Praise the Lord,
for he has shown me the wonders of his unfailing love.
He kept me safe when my city was under attack.
In panic, I have cried out, "I am cut off from the Lord!"
But you heard my cry for mercy
and answered my call for help.
Love the Lord, all you godly ones!
for the Lord protects those who are loyal to him.
Be strong and courageous,
put your hope in the Lord.
Family? He has shown me the wonders of his unfailing love, and while He can handle my questions, they've dried up like the purple splatters on my porch.
Before it all, He was. Where the darkness hides and where the light is born, He knows.
I not only don't have the answers, but I don't even begin to know where to find them.
But mighty in power and always unshakeable on the throne, He has still heard my cry for mercy, and met my fearful "I am cut off from the Lord!" with Himself...He has heard my cry for mercy, and answered my call for help, proving that we NEVER, never are.
He has heard Haiti's cry for mercy, and He has answered our call for help.
He has heard your cry, and answers.
And before the world was whole, and before the world was broken, HE WAS.
So isn't He...today.
How rich we are in His presence...the place we can never flee, the place we can never exit, the place we can never fall out of, the place we can never be led nor taken from.
If Christmas isn't about fragrant baked goods, isn't about perfectly wrapped shiny presents, isn't about political stability or clean houses or strings of lights, if Christmas isn't about everything being merry and jolly, and bright...
...If Christmas is about God hearing our desperate cries for help, seeing our hot overflow of tears, if Christmas is about God hearing and ANSWERING and meeting us, become flesh among us, then I am there.
Listen, family.
Christmas isn't about not being at the bottom.
Praise the Lord, or there would be no Christmas for Haiti. There would be no Christmas for the Ayars. Maybe there would be no Christmas for you.
No. Christmas isn't about not being at the bottom.
Christmas is about GOD ALMIGHTY IS ALREADY THERE.
God almighty, already there.
Praise the Lord.
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