Friday, May 17, 2013

Bloom.

Sometime in the last few weeks I hit a wall. I found myself in unfamiliar territory with feelings of discontent and weariness pressing hard on my soul. Sure, I've been worn out before, but this felt different. And I knew what I was doing. I was fighting against the place God has planted me. Simply refusing to bloom. Digging my heels into the dirt of "not fair" and "I can't" and "it's too hard".

I've been frustrated by the little things: muddy footprints on the already stained carpets, water sloshed across the floor by small hands, and extra mouths I didn't plan on for dinner. Loud kids in a house that feels too small and wondering if the dream He's planted is ever really going to happen. The bitter taste of doubt...mostly in myself.

So, I've been talking to God and asking Him to work on my heart. I kept saying to friends who would ask how I am doing..."I know I'm not blooming where I'm planted. But I really really want to. Please pray for me."

It started with a mud kitchen. One night, grumpy and frustrated, I marched out to the backyard with a paint can and a plan. And I began to put pieces of wood and this and that together to make my kids a mudpie station. Summer is coming and they have to have fun things to do. As they grow, the yard we have no longer is containing them. They want the freedom to roam that they see other kids' have. But I worry about the drug dealer that lives a few houses down and the child pornography production that was taking place in the trailer behind ours, and I wonder how to keep my kids safe but also give them freedom. So, I know in my heart that our yard and our home need to be that haven that kids can come to. It needs to be a fun zone. Thus, the mudpie kitchen.

Then today as the sun shined hot overhead my yard continued to gain kids until there were over 12 running around screaming and laughing and having a good time. I think this is a precursor to what summer holds. In and out and in and out for bathroom breaks and scrapes that need bandages and thirsty mouths and hungry tummies and "what time is it?!" and "do you have a swimsuit I can wear?" and "can I stay for dinner?"

Breaking up fights, and negotiating treaties, and not getting a lick of anything done around this never-ending cleaning job I call my house. I don't know if I should laugh or cry as the dirty towels pile up in the aftermath of a water fight and the popsicle sticks litter the yard.

I try to fold a few clothes while keeping an ear on things...."Absolutely NO kissing!"
I want to get mad when yet another kid runs to the bathroom with muddy feet and leaves a dark trail across the carpet.
I am just returning an e-mail when kid #11 needs a drink.

*sigh*. I am SO stinking HUMAN. I struggle between the easy way and the thing that is far better. I know carpet matters little in the face of an 8 year old girl who just needs someone to really see her...to really love her. So what if she comes in skin that is muddy and smelly and constantly needy. Isn't that how I come before God? Stinking in my human-ness?

And so, in the midst of it all,  I feel the gentleness of God's nudge. "This is where I want you to bloom. Right here." In my heart I know it is true.

So I say to myself, "Jillary....it is time to embrace the craziness and go with it. This is the 'tribe' God has called you to." 

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight , and the sin that so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us."
 
Hebrews 12:1

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