a lift

Two of my people had really rough days today. A dear friend starts chemo tomorrow. Another waits for a new baby, any day. I had to confront several things today, and say a small "no", the hardest things in the world for me. 

I wish my school girls didn't feel so, so much pressure. I wish they could see the beauty in and BE themselves, who He has made them to be, instead of feeling so pushed to act and speak and look and converse the same way 'everyone' is. 

I drove away from dropping off Lady Jane and Mr. Henry last night after family dinner so aware of our fragility. I saw a memory on Facebook of my children playing in the sandbox in Haiti, and clicked away so aware of how fast they grow and how fleeting precious seasons are. 

I kissed Emma's chubby, skinned knees tonight after bath and my heart just ached for how fast they grow, cooked second dinner for Matt and Lily, both getting home after nine tonight with their really rough days on their shoulders. 

I kissed and read and squeezed and tucked and prayed and nursed and sang...mixed up the dry ingredients for breakfast pancakes, prepared the coffee maker, plunged and cleaned the out of commission toilet upstairs and packed three lunches for tomorrow, all the while praying for quick healing for today's cataract surgery, for peaceful strength and waiting for new baby, for apprehensive chemo looming tomorrow, for court dates our two bonus gifts have on the calendar in pencil once again, for the house that needs to sell beautifully, for three weary girls off to school again tomorrow--lights rather muted this season, for several sisters around the globe with heavy tangles on their hearts and minds. 

I haven't been overseas in a while. I miss so many church work days, paint buckets and babies not mixing. I can't get coffee, can't drop everything and sit with you, can't take a chemo turn, can't protect my girls' hearts at school, can't carry much for Matt, can't fix much at all. 

But I will never be in a season where I can't be continually bringing people to His throne, boldly to the throne of grace. 

I cannot often show up, and honestly, with seven loud and dear ones in tow, few really want me to....but I sure do nag the Father relentlessly.  I sure do pray for Haiti like it's still under my feet, I sure do lift up one after another as often as I rinse each cup and match each sock. I sure am the beggar at His table, asking that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, and that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breath and length and height and depth of His love, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. 

Sofie, noting tonight the overwhelmed and frustrated demeanors of her dad and sister, said, "I guess it's our job to just feed and love and be patient with grouchy ones, huh?" And I kissed her head yes, but thankfully, more, it's just our job to lift them up to Him. Just to give them and their cares to Him, for He cares for their cares and carries them!

I can do that.  Keep on with me.