oh kneel me down

I love New Year's Resolutions. Not ones like: "lose 10 lbs" or "give up chocolate." I like to set goals - or hopes - or dreams with a plan. I like to contemplate the last year and make some adjustments in my daily habits for the new, fresh year. January, 2015 was no different. As I reflected back on the year (and years) previous, I was impressed with the level of self-discipline I had learned. However, no amount of trying, depriving, or praying had achieved my one big desire to find a solution to my health problems. I have many digestive issues. I have tried everything (it feels like, anyway) to "fix" these issues - to find a cure - even a diagnosis. I have had limited success. Each new thing I try, gives me a measure of success for a time - each with a promise of full healing that never really happens. Oh, I have learned a lot and surprised myself with my own ability to stick to impossible eating plans. But, more than all of my efforts, I have asked - I have begged God to heal me. He has given me so many amazing gifts in the last 3 years. He told me to ask for big things and then delighted in giving them to me. But not healing. This year, when I brought it up again as part of my New Year Requests, He told me, very clearly: "You have tried everything to make this go away. You have asked me multiple times to heal you. And your pain persists. If you have tried for 3 years and it is still here, then maybe it's a gift from me. For 2015, your goal should be to embrace your pain - not just accept it - embrace it." And so, that is my big year-goal. I am not there yet. The other night, after eating broccoli, my insides felt like they were on fire. I tried to tell myself: "This feeling of pain is love. It is a gift." But I struggle with this. Right now, all I can muster is an acceptance that I will have bad pain days. I am learning to release the stress of trying and trying to fix my problem. It is, however, only May. I'm hoping by December to be honestly thankful for the gift of my pain. The closest I have come yet to embracing this is embodied in the words of this song (God brought these lyrics to my heart again and again over the last few weeks):

Oh kneel me down again
here at your feet
Show me how much you love
humility

Oh Spirit be the star
that leads me to
the humble heart of love
I see in you

(Humble King - Vineyard)

Maybe my struggle is to bring me closer to the Humble King. Maybe the pain is what kneels me down at his feet. How can I not be thankful for anything that leads me to His humble heart of love.

ode to coffee - and mothers

During a time I gave up coffee for a week (and anything except tap water), I discovered two things. First, I have a caffeine addiction; I had no awareness of this – I just drink it because it’s socially expected and I like the warmth. And second, I love coffee (and tea) way more than I thought I did. As I brewed pots of it to serve in the shop, the aroma nearly knocked me over. I was prompted to pen this poem professing my love of coffee. However, this being the week before Mother’s Day, and the fact that my Mom is away on a trip, I found that my poem was also a declaration of the consistent joy brought to me by my mother.

Ode to Coffee – and Mothers

You wake me up each morning

~ the instinct you have taught me well.

As we converse, I enjoy your sweet presence

~ your aroma calls up feelings of comfort because of your daily presence in my life.

Some days I sit and enjoy your essence without distraction

~ sometimes I need to grab an infusion of your calming goodness as I rush through my day.

The joy and energy I receive from you lingers, fuelling me

~ I do not need to drink it in continually, for your peacefulness has long-lasting effects.

I cannot imagine my life without the spirit of beauty you wrap around my being

~ if I had to give you up for a week, it would only be bearable because of our anticipated reunion.

I love you because you make me a better person 

~ I'm addicted to you.