Because I'm clever that way

The noisy boys love crafts. Love them. Save bits of garbage for a few weeks (milk bottle caps, paper towel tubes, OJ lids), give them to my boys, and watch their eyes light up. Seriously.

Last night was Open House at the boys’ school. We visited each of their classrooms, took a picture with their teachers, and saw more of what they’re doing in class. One of the projects they were most proud of were these marshmallow sculptures made out of miniature marshmallows and toothpicks.

“Hey! I could do that!” I thought, always looking for a constructive way to keep the noisy boys occupied that doesn’t involve the computer, wii, or television.

So this morning they set to work on their marshmallow structures. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Never mind the eighteen month old who roams the house all day long looking for things to eat or destroy.

Right. Next time, we’ll save this craft for naptime.

And as a side note, people ask all the time, “Are the twins different from eachother?” Um. Yes. Take a look at the two structures for a visual illustration of their differences. Twin A.’s is on the right, Twin B.’s is on the left. For the record, Twin A.’s sculpture had another set of cubes attached on the side before baby b. got a hold of it.

wild animals

Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep posting about my silent retreat in the midst of the everyday chaos that is my life?

Don’t get me wrong, I want to keep posting about it. And I will. Tomorrow.

But this week my life feels a little bit like my blog when I was away -- overrun by wild animals who carry food into the living room and smear peanut butter on the couch and make entirely too much noise.

(By the way, I enjoyed coming home and finding that my blog had been blogjacked. It brought a smile to my face and I am grateful for this forum to foster such a fun and generous community. I feel like one of the cool kids now! And I’m glad this is a place where you feel comfortable enough to kick off your shoes and just hang out for awhile. And don’t worry about cleaning up next time. As Twin A. reminded me this morning, “our house is ALWAYS messy.” Thanks, buddy. I’m feelin’ the love.)

But back to the wild animals who live in my house.

After asking to play Star Wars Wii at least thirty-nine times yesterday, Llama Papa was annoyed.

“For the last time, no. No Star Wars Wii today.”
“But WHY?” Twin A. whined.
“Because you’re driving me crazy,” Llama Papa answered.
“I know,” Twin A. responded, “But what does that have to do with playing Wii?”

You’ve gotta love the logic of a Kindergardener.

empty

Empty.
Barren.
All of my striving
comes up short.

All of it.

What now, Lord?
I offer you what is:

Me.
Empty.

Are you really enough?
Enough to fill in all of these cracks
without my help?

Really?

Lord I believe.
Help me with my unbelief.

the truth

I went on this retreat of silence in search of God. And in the silence, as distractions and noise began to fall away, I was left with myself. And God. And what is real and true between us. Not what I want to be real and true, but what actually is.

Here are my reflections from day two:

The day is slipping away; my mind wanders. Have I been attentive enough? I want measurable results. I want to come away from this week and say, “God did this,” or “God said this.” I want to sit for five minutes or five hours or five days and have something to show for it.

But the truth is, I’m coming up empty. The truth is, I’m exhausted. The truth is, I’m distracted. The truth is, I don’t even know what my soul feels like. The truth is, I’m afraid I won’t even recognize God’s voice if He does speak.

an invitation

“What brings you here?” Ruth asks. And so I spend the next hour talking about my life, my restlessness of soul, my deep hunger for God, my fears, my busyness.

“I don’t know where to begin with God,” I confess.

She smiles. We sit quietly for a time, and then she opens her Bible and reads,  

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 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. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light" (Matthew 11:28-30).

She smiles again. “What would it look like for you to accept God’s invitation to rest today? To trust Him with all of the things we’ve talked about, and just lie down and take a nap?”

"A nap?" I think. "That doesn’t sound very spiritual." Later, I walk over to the cafeteria, and take a bowl of lentil soup. Homemade. As I sit with my soup and salad, I marvel at this gift of food that someone else has prepared. I want to go into the kitchen and hug the women who made it. "When is the last time I sat through an entire meal?" I wonder to myself.

After lunch, I go to my room to complete my only assignment of the day: rest.

It’s harder than I expect it to be. I open my journal and make a list of all of my distractions and concerns. It’s two pages long.

And I find myself back in this familiar place with God: do I trust Him? Can I stop and simply be for an afternoon? Can that really be enough?

I read the verses in Matthew again and thank God for His invitation. The truth is, I am tired.

And so I begin this first afternoon of my journey into solitude and silence with a long nap.

beginning

I’m not exactly sure why I’m here. A simple note to the author, a question really, resulted in this invitation to spend five days in solitude and silence, meeting with Ruth in the mornings for prayer, devotions, and spiritual direction.

I don’t know how many people have been invited, but only two of us are here––me and a young worship leader from San Francisco.

I feel intimidated. Who am I to be here, sitting across from this woman, whose books have challenged the very soul of my being? Why should she invest this time in me?

It’s surreal. She shares a devotion with us and I wonder that she shouldn’t be standing in front of thousands, sharing these great insights into scripture.

I wonder again, what am I doing here?

I’m surprised by how quickly the ego fades in this setting, how deeply we connect, soul to soul, in spiritual friendship.

She’s no longer a famous author and speaker. She’s simply Ruth.

“It’s no coincidence that you’re here,” she smiles.

This truth resonates with me, and I know that for whatever reason, God has brought me here.

And so I begin my journey.

retreat

After a week without words, I’m not sure how to describe the experience using them. This past five days have been the truest I have ever known. Difficult. Hard. But also true and real.

And God showed up, friends.

Not in the ways I thought He might, or even the ways I wanted Him to. But He showed up.

I’ll share slices of this week over time, but the whole experience feels so sacred, I’m not sure how much to say or how to say it. Be patient with me as I process and consider what the Lord has done.

It’s good to be home with the noisy boys again. Twin B. greeted me with, “Dad let us eat 26 marshmallows!”

Llama Papa assures me it was only 14.

In any case, they all survived.

It is good to be home.