I claim love & He claims me

from sweet Henri :

"Calling God Abba Father is a cry of the heart, a prayer welling up from our innermost beings.
It has nothing to do with naming God
but everything to do with claiming God as the source of who we are.
This claim does not come from any sudden insight or acquired conviction; it is the claim that the Spirit of Jesus makes in communion with our spirits.
It is the claim of love."



My journey all along, specifically since January, can be summed up in this short paragraph; not fully explained, but fully felt and experienced, thanks to Henri Nouwen's superb wordage. Emotion welled as my eyes moved forward past each group of letters...
He is the Source of who I am. Not the me as I see-- the me He sees. And he has claimed this me.
His grip is strong but never forceful or angry.
His grip is simply gripping to keep me from slipping back into a slur of unfortunate s-words. The dark places. The lonely places. The foolishness of forgetting his fondness.

As I inelegantly seize moments of vulnerability, sometimes most unhappily,
I feel a steady shift in my soul. There is movement. There is change. There is life.
And he is the reason for it all.


from Rob Bell's, Love Wins :

"What is John telling us? It's the 8th sign, the first day of the new week, the first day of the new creation. The resurrection of Jesus inaugurates a new creation, one free from death, and it is bursting forth in Jesus himself right here in the midst of the first creation.
The tomb is empty. A new day is here. A new creation is here. Everything has changed. Death has been conquered. The old has gone. The new has come.
John is telling a huge story, one about God rescuing all of creation.

When we say yes to God, when we open ourselves to Jesus's living, giving act on the cross, we enter into a way of life. He is the source, the strength, the example, and the assurance that this pattern of death and rebirth is the way into the only kind of life that actually sustains and inspires. He talks of the life that will come from his own death, and he promises that life will flow to us in thousands of small ways as we die to [ourselves].

There can't be a spring if we're still stuck in the fall."

come on New Man

where have you been

help me wriggle from this self I'm in

and leave it like a skin upon the ground.

Who will I be?

On my final day as a full-time nanny, my thoughts are focused around the idea of being a parent to my own children one day, in the not-so-near future. I've tried to gather some aspirations of who I will be when that day comes. Which means that I should probably start becoming that woman today, because she sure isn't going to appear suddenly after she births a baby. Amen?


My hopes of parenting far exceed my list of 20+ names for my future children.
I hope to be a mother who will be on their level, spending extra strength in understanding. I hope to be a mother who listens. I hope to be a mother who is constantly reminded that sometimes I must let go of my own plans and agenda, and that this letting go can be the perfect soil for miracles and for more love to grow. I hope to be conscious of my own pain, willing to be vulnerable with my kids, never forgetting to show & tell them that I do NOT know all; letting them unmask the perfectionist and see my tender, broken places; living out the truth that I am just another traveler, sometimes struggling beside them and sometimes confidently & joyfully leading them. And sometimes laid out on the floor, not able to give anything else, choosing to accept their belief in me.
I hope to embrace my humanity, but never use it as an excuse.
I hope to be a mom who will turn up the music louder, dance longer, and laugh harder. I hope to be a mom who gets out, who plans adventures regardless of inconvenience or missed nap times or improper hygiene. I hope to rise early and rejoice with the morning (this is a lofty aspiration!)
I hope to fiercely protect the love that brought them life-- maintaining a deep, intimate, honest relationship with their papa. I hope to be a mother of great affection, of loving in healthy boundaries and refusing to let boundaries become walls that separate and seclude.
I hope to be a mother of open opinions and unrestricted faith. I hope to cultivate conversations without controlling the outcome. I hope to love through the disappointments, the failures, the hurts. I hope to forgive quickly and completely.
I hope to be a mother who some days lets her house get destroyed by imagination and creativity, and who teaches her children how to care for and respect and enjoy ALL things, especially each other & this beautiful earth in which we live.
I hope to invest and help grow the knowledge of their true Abba's love and acceptance of them...
that His love for us is not based on what we do but who we are. And we are His. Forever.


I hope all of these things & more, knowing my fragile condition as well as theirs, knowing that all families have their own s***, and there's no way of completely escaping that truth.
And maybe it's the s*** that will bring them closer, draw them deeper, make them softer. I hope they will put forth the energy to be propelled by this s*** and not get stuck in it. I hope they will have the ability to see a great story, His great story, being told amid & amongst their s***.
I greatly hope that for myself as well.



May we love like that. Each and every day, with each & every person we know & newly meet.
Amen.