Blue eyes turn toward mine as I pass out the bars for Kid's Club snack. Kristen asks her routine question, "Are we going to be able to have two?"
"Not tonight," I reply. Seeing her beginning pout I can't keep the edge from my voice. "Enjoy the one you have. If you complain you could lose your snack."
As I dismiss the children after the noisy final assembly Kristen comes to me. "Will there be brownies next time?"
"I don't know." My words come with inward, and likely outward, annoyance. I am busy. She doesn't need to know that right now and should be quiet in her seat. She turns away.
Awake during the night I writhe, remembering those encounters. I can think of twenty-five better responses to Kristen's questions.
Morning comes and with it a burden about this and many other things. The Lord shows me I sound a lot like Kristen.
Brown eyes turned toward Him I wail. "Am I going to be able to accomplish all the things I hope to before the baby comes in 3 months? What about the traveling? What about the bike rides with Geryll and Tristan? What about the parties with friends? What about the spring cleaning? What about the painting? What about the sewing? What about my inadequacies that need attention? What about . . .? The summer looks too short!"
His voice is gentle, "Carla, just live in the grace I offer you today. If you fret you will lose your joy and peace."
I come to him again. "What about the delivery and health of the baby?"
And he who stands before the noise of all people, yet is never busy, turns to me. "You don't need to know that now. Just live today."
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Celebrating Life
Saturday tasted of paradise. Geryll, Tristan and I worked together in the back yard, biked together at Presque Isle, then cooked together before going to bed. Days like this, so precious, can make me afraid. I fear pain and death that may come, bringing tears rather than laughter, making it impossible for me to live another day like this one.
This coming week marks 10 years since my 6th grade student, Heather, was killed in an accident. I remember the shock, the realization that I could not have another moment with her. The recent tragedy involving the Esh family reminds me that I can't keep my family alive.
How does a woman live with this realization? I know that no one can take away the sweet family times I've experienced. I have "right now" with my family. Still, that isn't sufficient.
I also know that though tears and death are inevitable, they are not the final word for me as a Christian. Isaiah 25:8 says, "He will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears from all faces." This is what Easter speaks to me this year. Christ's suffering reminds me of the pain of living. His resurrection promises me the hope of life after death.
"Because he lives, I can face tomorrow." I can't honestly say, "all fear is gone". I will say, "I bring my fears to Him. I know He holds the now, has held the past and will hold the future."
This coming week marks 10 years since my 6th grade student, Heather, was killed in an accident. I remember the shock, the realization that I could not have another moment with her. The recent tragedy involving the Esh family reminds me that I can't keep my family alive.
How does a woman live with this realization? I know that no one can take away the sweet family times I've experienced. I have "right now" with my family. Still, that isn't sufficient.
I also know that though tears and death are inevitable, they are not the final word for me as a Christian. Isaiah 25:8 says, "He will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears from all faces." This is what Easter speaks to me this year. Christ's suffering reminds me of the pain of living. His resurrection promises me the hope of life after death.
"Because he lives, I can face tomorrow." I can't honestly say, "all fear is gone". I will say, "I bring my fears to Him. I know He holds the now, has held the past and will hold the future."
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