Weeds & Flowers

I saw some dandelions on the side of the road just before Easter driving to the mall. I thought about how bright they were, sweet little flowers. At least we called them that when we were young only to find out as we got older that they’re called weeds. I’m not on that bandwagon. And isn’t it sweet, that even some growing thing that many weed whack out of their yards, is still a place where bumble bees sit and kids put under their chins to see if they reflect yellow? I think it is. I think about how sweet it is that something that we call a weed God made so beautiful and bright, lining the roads where most people don’t notice or in yards where they’d rather not.

I went walking in my neighborhood today and it smelled like spring all of a sudden. The trees were budding pink and the walkways leading up to the heavy doors of homes were lined with tulips and other assorted things coming up through the ground that we would be quicker to call flowers than weeds.

It felt like being in a book, with the scent that came from them floating across the concrete that is the city. I’m sure that’s always been the case, but maybe I just notice it more this year because I’m not running the way I used to or rushing really anywhere most days. It’s a blessing to notice before you’re old.

I was reading in Luke 23 before Easter and it’s fascinating to me that in verses 27-31 women are specified as mourning and lamenting for Jesus and then He turns and addresses them. There are so many instances in the Bible where Jesus really sees women. I think if we knew how much we were seen, and that His eye was on us at all times, like the sparrow (Matthew 10:29) we’d never be afraid again. We’d never fear for our protection or future or about our ability to love and be loved. We’d be unendingly brave. I think about this a lot, how whether flower, weed, or sparrow, God sees it all and created it all. I don’t think He’s a God who creates and then leaves, makes and then turns a blind eye, molds and then leaves the clay there to dry and crack in the sun. I believe He is so invested and intentional, and the best way we can honor Him is to know that and spend time with Him. I want to spend time with the God who made the weeds as pretty as the flowers. Who knew we’d be making necklaces out of dandelions one day. Who is intricate enough to give each season its own beauty and each person too. Who cares about the sparrows. I want to know more about Him, and a heart that beats like that.

Windows

I saw a man with a vintage Illinois shirt today. Like the ones my dad wore in the 90s. There was a robin out by the lake and a red-winged blackbird. I sipped my coffee with my journal open. Buds are starting to come out on the trees. People walking in the circle around the lake, around and around.

I saw another man bent over his walker today. He had a Vietnam veteran hat on and a prosthetic leg with the Cubs logo on it. The woman walking beside him I presumed to be his wife and I thought for him, “Jesus, if you were here you would’ve healed him.” And I thought for her, “You are strong, this is what ‘in sickness and in health’ means.” She walked slowly by him, step for step. I saw them driving in and they hadn’t gotten that far when I came walking up beside them. I just. I think we have a view of this life, that it should be pain and trial-free, especially once we know the Lord. Like that is the natural order of things. And it’s just not true, we aren’t even owed breaks. Trial can come trial after trial after trial, like waves or contractions, one right on top of the other and we’re like, “Lord, can’t I even catch my breath?”. And sometimes you can’t. And that is a hard pill to swallow. I don’t know that I have.

I read something recently that reminded me that when I said yes to Jesus, I said yes without any stipulations. Which meant “yes, no matter what.” Jesus said Himself that “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matt. 16:25). Will I lose my life, my plans, my hopes, my dreams, for Him? I do feel like I’m being asked to lay it all down and to be honest (and I’ve said this before), I don’t think I fully believed that God meant what He said when He said that. At least not for me. But it’s taken this long, when prayers I’ve prayed have gone unanswered for so many years, and I feel too young to say that, but it’s true - and other answers have just been a straight “no”. And so I’m faced with the question, “Will you lay it all down?” I’ve heard by people I love and who know God better than I do that tears are worship too, and that comforts me. Also naming the wounds, naming what has hurt, what hurts, that laundry list that says, “God, isn’t this enough already? Haven’t you molded and shaped me enough? Haven’t I done enough ‘penance’ even though I say I don’t believe in that? Why don’t You hear me? Why don’t You like me?” And it’s not so much the list that is saying it, but me. It’s just not tidy enough for small group. And it’s also not the Gospel,  but it’s how I feel. And God can take it, He makes room for that. Because life can feel like God doesn’t like us very much, like His love is reflected in our circumstances, and maybe that He even loves other people more. We whisper that, we don’t say it out loud. But it plays on all our wounds of abandonment, betrayal, neglect, apathy, etc. doesn’t it? Today I tried sitting by a window, by the lake, where I could see the birds, with a cup of coffee, and wrote it all down for Him. It didn’t  solve anything, but He was there, I knew it.

Sweater for the Spring

I bought a new sweater last week. I hardly ever buy anything new. I love thrifting and it's a fun thing to do while also being economical I guess, so a lot of my clothes are either vintage or from a thrift store. But there's something about buying something new (while still on sale :)) that feels like a gift these days. Funny enough, today it feels too warm to wear it.

The trees are starting to bloom and everything feels more energized. Things feel new for me too. I've been feeling a sense of purposelessness lately - like if I'm not moving forward or the timeline isn't going how I want it to or my work isn't what I want it to be, than what am I good for? I do think God's truth is so counter to this, even if all of the above can feel true sometimes. I know He says that just being where I'm at, enjoying the changing season, and being fully who He made me to be, is enough. I'm so not used to that. I'm out of practice being myself - how weird is that? In seasons past, my identity has looked like friends, church, church activities, school, relationships, going out, what I wear, distractions, work, what others say about about me, what others think of me - it has truly run the gamut. And I will always be thankful to God for saving me from so much of this and the ultimate headache that it was. I was running and chasing and trying my hardest. But it is new, now, in my 30s, for me to just be. And really have everything outside of myself removed that I could possibly cling to to define myself. It's been a season of quiet. But you know what that has set me up for? Receiving.

I think being a woman means I have a unique opportunity to receive and be open and receptive. My goals and dreams do not define me. Being open to God's leading and how He wants to guide me has left me more at peace than I've ever been. I see how He's orchestrated things in such a way where I've had to get to know Him better to trust Him with this. He's softened me through circumstances that have been hard initially, some of which still are, but He's shown up. He's been there. I wasn't left to deal with them on my own. If life had gone exactly how I wanted it to, I would honestly still be a control freak - and I AM - but to a lesser extent. :) And I'm happier because of it.

I'm glad I'm learning this now. I want to learn while I'm relatively young, everything I can. And while it makes me sad sometimes that I'm not where I thought I'd be by now, that I can feel lonely, that my soul feels older than I think it should in certain moments, when exhaustion creeps in and the real feelings come up, I know I'm being carried. And I'd rather be carried than striving, I'd rather be receiving than fighting for something that isn't blooming yet, I'd rather be loving who I really am than chasing someone or something that I never was. All of this takes time. And surrender is not easy. But I am not alone, new sweaters make sweet gifts, and Spring is here. :)