At A Loss For Words
A quick glance at my most recent posts on my blog reminds me that only having posted one blog in 2011, one in 2012 and this being the first post for this year of 2013 I have not been eager to share many words. As I’ve pondered the reason for this I believe it is because life has humbled me much over the past few years.
Some people live a life full of spoken words, some are known for many great written words. Others live a life full of action with few words. Still others live a life without much purpose or direction. As for me, I’ve always had to work to be quiet and listen. Those who have known me for many years will attest to this. I don’t know what people who have only known me over the last few years think. Perhaps they still see the struggle. But I sense within my heart that I have become more of a watcher, more of a listener, more of a waiter, and more of a practicioner of the presence of God. My soul waits in silence for God. Be still and know that I am God. In the waiting and in the slowing of my thoughts and actions I feel one thing principally…humbled. I don’t feel self-degradation, I feel thankful. I feel as though I know so little and God knows so much. I don’t have much to say. I want to follow Him. The simplest of realities are so profound to me that I am left without many words.
Being a mama to Caleb has helped me much into this journey of simplicity in my life and walk with God. Discovering that Caleb had autism in 2011 and learning from our RDI instructor that the most important thing I could do, and our family could do, was slow down put me on a path I have found leads to much humility. I know how to cook “less well” than I did 3 years ago because everything I make now must be gluten and dairy free. I know less parenting answers because many of the things we did with our older three kids backfires with Caleb. I know less language here in Rwanda than I did in Togo. I know less about the people I work with and am teammates with than I knew of those in Togo. I know less culture here in Rwanda than I knew in Togo. I know less certain exactly what I should be doing for Him because he reveals simple, beautiful things to me often within my lack of busyness for Him that just make me pause in wonder. I know less about myself and more about Him. Well, more articulately maybe, I’m less interested in myself and more interested in Him.
I think now, pretty matter of factly, that life is simply not worth living without Jesus. I know it now in a certain way. It is not a revelation in a moment of heart-rending love for Him. It is not a knowledge that came after a time of Him removing all other things from me to show me how magnificent He is in the face of all other calls to my heart. It is a daily thought that feeds and sustains me. I don’t have much to say to others right now but I have a lot to show them. I have His love in me that wants to pour forth in action. I think this season of my life may be more living in each moment than any I’ve experienced before. I feel such a feeling of peace right now. No regrets, no walking or moving on my own, no questioning if that is what I should have done or not. He leads me gently now and I am following willingly and humbly and there’s not a struggle in my heart to want to obey him. I truly feel every day in the words of Peter, “Lord, where else would I go? You have the words of eternal life.” I may be often at a loss for words but He isn’t. I want to just let Him do the talking and I’ll keep trying to listen and walk with Him. I trust Him to bring words if they need to be there and to keep my mouth closed when the best word is Him living in me. The word became flesh and dwelt among us. How humbled I am that he continues to dwell in me and so many around me. I just long to watch and soak up His beauty in his word, and in His creation.