Dance with me, daughter

  

“Little one arise,

get up from your corner;

unfold your sulking arms

and dance with me.

If you don’t know which way to go

stand on my feet

I will guide you.

Give me your arms

see my face

I am with you.

Listen for the music of grace

give in to the mystery of my rhythm 

I will guide you.

Don’t refuse to dance 

because you don’t know all the steps.

The music will guide you,

you will see

when you let go.”

“Father God, forgive me

for being afraid

for refusing to dance

with a light heart

and joyful feet.

I know you are leading me 

and yet I resist—

call out in fear when you dip me,

stiffen my arms when they should be supple 

for a twirl—

Let me instead be responsive to your guidance,

open to your plan,

a joyful partner

in this unexpected 

dance of life.”

  

How small I am, Lord

How small I am, Lord,

like a little toddler stumbling along 

and insisting on doing it “self.”

But when I get so exhausted that

I have to sit down and cry,

I find myself scooped up in Your loving arms.

You’ve made me this small so You can carry me

tenderly and cover my scrapes with kisses….

gestures of affection from all those around me,

whose warmth and wisdom protects me

from the silliness of trying

to travel this journey alone. 

I am tiny

so others can have the chance

to be messengers of Your mercy—

angels of Your love.

Help me always to trust

that every time I fall

You’ll be there to comfort me

with a love even sweeter than before.

  

Choosing Happiness

Recently my dear friend Natalie from Chicago came for a quick visit, as she was back home for her grandmother’s funeral. Her presence was like a sweet breeze from the Windy City. She brought a little pot of cheerful daffodils to brighten my table. I got florally spoiled! It was a gift to be able to see her, and have a heart-to-heart talk while the kids played at the park. A moment of happiness I will cherish for a long time.

I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness lately, and how necessary it is to choose it. Not just as a lifetime hope, but moment to moment. Choosing to embrace each good moment that comes, choosing to smile, to dance with the kids, to laugh when they tell me funny little things, to savour each time they hug or play together well. Tonight we had homemade pizza. “We’re having a nice lifetime,” said my four year old,”This is the best pizza ever!”

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I have to see each of these moments as gifts, despite the underlying ache for my little lost daughter, who is busy painting Heaven’s clouds pink with her rosy cheeks. She would want me to be a happy mother who is present to her children, who is affectionate and fun, who is able to enjoy her children and to apologize when she loses her cool.

We can choose to see life as meaningful gift, painful but precious, or as a terrible burden, fraught with danger. But how would the latter help us? To be paralyzed by fear is to refuse to live. And we must live and love, even as the sun must rise, because that’s what we’re meant to do.

Who among us is without pain? We have all suffered in one way or another…
Yet we still have the ability to choose happiness. The longing in our hearts for truth, goodness and beauty is there because those things exist, and we are meant to possess them.

“The essence of greatness is having the heart of a child,” quoted James Stenson in a parenting talk. I think this is also a choice: to let sadness wither you up and go grey inside, letting yourself become even internally old, or to choose youth—hope, joy, simplicity, trust, laughter—for to embrace life is to be young.

This is not a choice we make only once, for we are so changeable, like the shadows of leaves dancing on a windy day…it is a choice we have to make again and again, every time an opportunity comes to enjoy life, to be silly, to dance, to relish a conversation with a dear friend, to bask in the sunlight that pours down on us.

If we refuse the joy of those moments, because the pain of deep old scars that still throb, we are being like the child who refuses to get over her tantrum because one toy broke, even when she is offered many others. It’s really easy to be that kind of child, but we have to remember the resilience of children who seek joy in each new day, who get excited about little things, who are easily pleased by small shows of affection.

All the daily blessings we receive, all of those good moments, are caresses from God’s hands, and a sign that He is with us, despite life’s struggles. Say yes to them. Say yes to Him. Say thank you. We are in bigger, better hands than our own, and only in them can we truly live as children who know how to trust and rejoice, despite the tears that also come.

As I’m trying to take my own advice, here’s some photo’s of me being a kid on my retreat at Loon Lake, climbing about in the woods and getting wet pulling a raft across the lake. Felt like I was 12 again. Was great!

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I Will Walk With The Lion

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Each night the kids and I explore by flashlight
the enchanted world of Narnia
till my voice lulls the little ones to sleep
and the big girls beg for just one more chapter…

We’ve met brave children, witches, satyrs and fauns
but above all, the One who brings the deeper magic
who makes spring return and ends the
“Always winter but never Christmas,”
they say it with a hushed whisper
Aslan!

The Lion, the king,
the beautiful and terrible
the creator and saviour
whose velvet paws contain immense strength
whose immense heart
is crowned with gentleness

And so here on retreat in the woods
I’ve been imagining myself as one of the children
having stepped through the enchanted wardrobe
into the forest of Narnia

I will walk with the Lion
through days sweet and light
And though there be battle
darkness and pain
with the Lion I will remain
in triumph and hope
I will walk with the Lion

And when I am weary,
I’ll lean on his chest
feeling his strength
the warm rumble of his breath
on my neck

His heavy paws hold me close
and his claws keep me safe
The Lion’s embrace
is my fortress

Together we’ll mourn
for the lost and the suffering
the Lion’s great eyes
pools of sadness
that shimmer with love

Close to him hope unties each knot of doubt in my belly
My heart melts into his golden warmth
and deep purrs embrace me
in a cocoon of sound
I am safe

The Grace to be Present

I saw this quote online and it made me laugh to think how true it is:

Worrying is like praying for what you don’t want.

Sometimes we think that it is a noble thing to worry, that it is somehow more responsible to worry than to trust. Perhaps we know that we shouldn’t really worry about whether or not a new haircut will turn out perfectly, but we fall into the trap of thinking that it is right to worry extensively about the things that do really matter, like whether or not we are a good enough parent. Surely in this matter we are justified in periodically raking ourselves over the coals…right?

Nope.

While it is responsible to spend some time in reflection and planning, in setting goals and making small changes, this kind of beat-yourself-up worry can easily be more self-indulgent than useful, because it can lead to apathy and despair, instead of hope-inspired action.

Furthermore, while worry removes us emotionally and mentally, gratitude helps us to be present, to really experience the moment and the people we are with. Worrying when you are with someone is like the mental equivalent of texting at the table. How about instead of sitting worrying about whether you are a good enough parent, spouse, or friend, give your loved one a hug? The love of an imperfect person goes a really long way; after all, we all are!

5 things to do if you catch yourself sliding into a worry spiral:

1. Get up and do something. Take one small, concrete step towards the issue troubling you, and then try to let it go.

2. Work up a sweat. Go for a brisk walk, get down and scrub the floor (it’s hard to worry when huffing, puffing, and making your house shine) or get down and boogie. A little living room dance party does wonders for the soul.

3. Read something uplifting. Remember all the beautiful things happening in the world. Give thanks for what is going well, and try to trust that there is a good plan behind the things that, in your limited view, are not.

4. Call a friend. Ask them about their day. You’ll remember others have struggles, too, and yours will become a lot smaller. Just voicing your fears to a confidant will help them become less ominous, and you’ll likely receive the emotional boost you need along with some good laughs. Also, friends are good at telling you the things you already knew but forgot, and needed to hear from someone you love.

5. Pray. There’s no harm in asking for help, in letting the things beyond our control out of our tight grasp, in letting go so that something good can happen, something better even than what we imagined. Remember, “worrying is like praying for what you don’t want,” so instead, pray for you heart’s desires, for peace, wisdom and joy, for the hope to begin again each day with trust. As Anne of Green Gables’ lovely school teacher Miss Barry said, “Tomorrow is a new day, with no mistakes in it…Yet.” Just remember, making mistakes doesn’t disqualify you from being loveable, but worrying about your mistakes can prevent you from loving. Remember to be gentle with yourself, and that gentleness will extend to others.

And if all else fails, eat some chocolate and watch a funny movie! Or maybe do that part anyway…