Pause and think of that.

May God be gracious to us and bless us
    and make His face to shine upon us, Selah

that Your way may be known on earth,
    Your saving power among all nations.
Let the peoples praise You, O God;
    let all the peoples praise You!

Let the nations be glad and sing for joy,
    for You judge the peoples with equity
    and guide the nations upon earth. Selah

So last night we talked about Practicing the Presence of God and what it would be like to live in that sweet spot: I abandon myself in His hands, that He may do what He pleases with me. This King, full of mercy and goodness, very far from chastising me, embraces me with love, makes me eat at His table, serves me with His own hands, gives me the key of His treasures; He converses and delights Himself with me incessantly, in a thousand and a thousand ways, and treats me in all respects as His favorite.

And we talked about the renunciation of Brother Lawrence, for the love of Him, everything that was not He; I began to live as if there was none but He and I in the world.

 But in this psalm it seems that this delight of Brother Lawrence, an habitual, silent, and secret conversation of the soul with GOD, is not so much for our joy, but rather that His way might be known in all the earth, and His name be praised among all the peoples.

 So we wondered if is it wrong to keep our soul focused wholly on Him? Does this lead to selfish isolation? Is this a retreat from our calling to be His reconciliation in an aching world?

 But the truth be told, as Kathy articulated with such clarity, is that what pulls us (me) out of His presence is my inclination to think of myself as god, the one who controls and (micro)manages all around me. Poorly.

 And one of my Two Truths and a Lie is that we have favorites. I know that a huge anxiety filled me as Heather’s birth neared. How could I possibly love another as much as Little Nicole? I fretted. But the moment the midwife slid that waxy wetness onto my bosom I knew, each child is my favorite. And my heart leapt with delight when that little pink light blinked on in Navojoa, Mexico and Pastor Enrique sang a song of welcome to Andreita.  

And if I, in all of my bad thinking and brokenness, can have three favorites, He is all of His splendid grandeur can hold each of the peoples of the world on His bosom, on His mother’s breast.

It is thus I consider myself from time to time in His holy presence; to whom I find myself often attached with greater sweetness and delight than that of an infant at the mother's breast: so that if I dare use the expression, I should choose to call this state the bosom of GOD, for the inexpressible sweetness which I taste and experience there.

And perhaps that is why David calmed and quieted his soul like a weaned child. This is enough. And let Jesus take care of the rest. Remember He is the vine and I am the branches. It is the act of abiding that produces much fruit.

Apart from Me, you can do nothing.

Rest.

They are precious in His sight.

Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” Genesis 28:15

Last night was a celebration of motherhood, tossing nets out to pull in all sorts to gather under the twinkly lights with shared stories, songs by Frank Ross, rhubarb pie and ice cream and lots of bottles of red wine and blue-bottled water. And we tried to pull off Two Truths and a Lie about motherhood, and it didn’t turn out exactly right, but it was still good. And Brandon and I entertained ourselves by talking bike talk and looking over saddlebags and I found the international electrical plug for him. But most of all, we all got to watch a napless and very weary Everette nestle into Heather and be comforted while the songs of the morning still echoed in our collective hearts.

Because the Vineyard service rested on Psalm 131

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
    my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
    too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
    like a weaned child with its mother;
    like a weaned child is my soul within me.

And Chris pointed out that bookended with this All-Powerful God we have an Incarnate God Who Draws Near.

Trust means that you give it up. Hand them over. Let them go. Let them go today. Let them go tomorrow. Let them go on Wednesday.

And tonight the Monday Night Ladies are reading more of Brother Lawrence, grappling with what does it mean to “live in the presence of God.” And we are going to talk about when Brother Lawrence quotes a friend who says that “God’s got an endless bank account of grace, and we settle for pocket-change...” What do you think his friend meant by that statement? And the next question on our discussion list is what would it mean to “open our eyes to God’s grace”?

And for some reason, but of course, God is weaving together this day for me, His weaned child, Andres from El Camino on the other side of the world sent me a Facebook link this morning, a piercing version of “Open the Eyes of my Heart, Lord,” sung by a blind autistic boy. And I wept. And may that be the thread that holds this day in His hand.

To see You high and lifted up

Shining in the light of Your glory

Pour out Your power and love

As we sing holy, holy, holy.

And last night I retold the story of that day. And how my pain was so overwhelming I couldn’t even remember the words, “Holy, holy, holy.” But God heard me anyways. And I knelt down on the cobblestones again and again and looked others in the eyes and said, “God wants to show you His power and love by healing you in the name of Jesus Christ.”

And maybe, just maybe, that is His message to me this morning, the beginning of a new week. Nine more days in my vocational version of Jesus Loves the Little Children of the World.

I want to show you My power and love by healing you in the name of Jesus Christ.

Holy, holy, holy.

And yesterday I read to Cameron out of my new favorite book, Mary by Sholem Asch, the Polish Jew. These are the peoples of the world,” the strange woman said, “and this is the cry of their yearning for the salvation you bear in their behalf. For by the fruit of your womb shall they be united in one kindred before God.

As we, all of us, sing, Holy, holy, holy.