He Hasn't Forgotten {Day 2}

I can easily forget, in the mama-ing to my four little ones, in the needing to be big, that I too am so very small.

As my youngest flashes her dimple at me and tucks her face away - as I hold her close to my chest, the calendar pages still turn and 10 months fly by and my heart aches with the passing and the aging and I am not big enough to slow them all down.

Time feels constricting and aloof in the same moment and somewhere in the middle I stand, caught in the ever-changing illusions of giant needs and the stepping away smallness that comes with the territory of motherhood.

I can forget my own fragility until they begin to take that step away.

Jesus, He says, Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls.

Peter, his pen scratched out the words, Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.

And Isaiah, pointing always to the coming Messiah, he leans in to the people of God,

He will tend His flock like a shepherd

He will gather the lambs in His arms;

He will carry them in His bosom,

and gently lead those who are with young.

I drive home in the fading light and sometimes the weight of what we carry feels too much - as though my soul is threatening to give way and my heart is one quickened beat from shattering. I grip the steering wheel as though it is a lifeline and the I-can-handle-this that I have wrapped around me begins to unravel and the very guttural lowness of who I really am cries out for Him; For the One Who gently leads, Who lends His yoke, Who takes my anxiety because He cares. For me. For the ones He has made.

My days carry responsibilities, both big and small, but there is One Who is a Tender God Who takes note. I don't have to come before Him boasting that I can handle it all on my own. In His tenderness, He welcomes me, crawling, grasping, sin-stained and broken because He knows my frame. He knows I am but dust and His compassion gathers me close and a daughter finds rest in the presence of her Father.

 

Adoring:

As a father shows compassion to his children, so You show compassion to me - to those who fear You. For You know my frame, You have never forgotten that I am but dust. In Your holiness, You remain gentle to Your children and Your faithfulness becomes a safe harbor for Your weary daughter who forgets, at times, just how very small she is.  Thank You for your mercy and grace. For Your yoke that binds me to You, for Your arms that gather this mama-heart close and for Your invitation to take my anxieties from me - all because You love. All because You see and know of what I am made.  How can I not love You in return?

{November rolls around again and again, I place a singular focus on the 30 days of this month. Seems kind of silly to choose Adoration, since I had decided to try to Adore Jesus here for the next year. But Adoration can feel unexpectedly awkward and that awkwardness can cause a pulling back. So really, this month is to relight that fire I first felt back in the heat of summer and as the coolness of fall settles in, as the days grow darker, I want to refocus my heart back on this discipline. In a way, this is a restarting and a settling back in on a journey to know Him more...)