“i’m kind of nervous, but excited.” and when we told Manoah that even adults get nervous his face lit up, “they do?!” as though the reality of big people getting scared was surprising and yet, comforting. cause it’s true, right? big people get nervous about little things. i get nervous about all kinds of ridiculous scenarios that i create in my bizarre imagination. i am freakishly nervous about playing softball (which i have never done) and striking out repeatedly, or being responsible for setting a formal dinner table (where the heck do all those forks go?!?!#$@!#), or being in a spelling bee and getting out on a word like “cincinnati, committed, or succeed.” i guess our jittery nerves are a sign that our weaknesses could potentially be exposed, which is the very reason i volunteer to stir the soup when it’s time to set the Christmas dinner table.
weaknesses exposed. just those two words together can be terrifying. yet, weaknesses can be a passageway to intimacy if opened with gentle care and great caution. weaknesses met with love, melt. the invitation to be exposed, to be loved, is everywhere, all of earth beckons that you see the beauty of God’s love for you. beauty opens us. i don’t know how it does it exactly, but beauty stills us, slows us, surrenders our souls to something, someOne, greater. His beauty welcomes our weaknesses. in the silver light of the sun breaking the clean white clouds, He calls me, come. in the limitless skies that can never be contained, tamed, or restrained, He calls me, come. in the seas His beauty bellows i love you with an overwhelming sense of strength and yet, a calmness setting a soul at ease to breathe. with the softness of babies skin and the sweetness of morning tea, His beauty bids me come. come, weakness and all, be known. be loved.
they made it. they survived. and i only cried once.
babies are growing up.