A million moments have come and gone since I wrote last from that spiritual and emotional place that could only be diagnosed as “a hot mess”.
There’s been brilliant breakthroughs and devastating detours.
Hope has risen, and tears have fallen.
I’ve wanted to tell you so many stories, but the words just wouldn’t come.
I’ve wanted to speak out and stand on so many Truths, but…
Some days I’ve stuttered and stumbled.
And some days I’ve sang and stood strong.
Most days were a really awkward dance of the two “some day” alliterations.
I am desperately seeking His Kingdom and His Presence…
The comfort of the The Comforter.
The healing of The Healer.
But I am doing so in a painfully human, two-steps-forward and one-step-backward kind of way. On Monday, after I poured out this stumbling, singing heart to my team, I just wanted to hold and to be held.
I wanted to hold Happiness.
Happiness is a little girl I adore.
Happiness’ 9th grade sister carries her uncomfortable body to the feeding program in Clau Clau every week. Relief flashes through the loving eyes of this big sister when we scoop up that small, stiff body, seized by what is probably cerebral palsy, and let her go whisper, giggle, and dance with her friends from school.
We’re so gripped with love for this little girl who cannot speak to us, who has black holes where teeth should be, who can’t sit up on her own, and who can’t focus or function. All I wanted to do on Monday was hold Happiness.
|Monday with Happiness. Photo by Laura Uechi.|
Carla came over and sing-songed a promise of Happiness dancing down streets of gold. Brett came and oogled and cooed with the enchanted eyes of a father.
This Comforter and this Healer I’m appealing to.
And how, all wrapped up in this broken body, I think He’s here.
Suddenly, I started to wonder if Everlasting Joy has a day where He just wants to hold His Happiness.
Does Eternity’s Keeper ever just want a moment to hold and behold me?
Does He fold me, stiffly unsure, kicking and screaming, into that big, holy lap of His, and position me to see and to hear, like I did with sweet little Happiness?
Does He see how broken and diseased I am, yet coo and oogle and stroke my skin and call me Beautiful?
Does He speak a thousand words over me with a cascade of sensations, pictures and octaves, until I hear that one that makes my glazed eyes find His face? And then does He melt?
Does He paint glimpses of His face through Creation just for my reaction, imagining what my unhindered smile, my unhindered heart and vision will be like?
Are His Fatherly eyes filled with enchantment for the day His Happiness will dance with no pain, no suffering and with absolute freedom down golden streets into our happily ever after?
Whether we need to hold or to be held today, I believe there’s a sovereign grip on us. A lap you might not even know you’re in yet.
Behold, the Holder has come. He cuts off chaos, sets us free, and never-ever will stop moving mountains on behalf of His beloved.
You are His Happiness. Behold an be held.