When Being Poor is a Good Thing

I wake to swollen eyelids and the expected crying-hangover.

When did the sobbing give way to slumber?

I shuffle past the mirror, try not to look, and fall asleep a few minutes into my quiet time, pen in still-clutched hand.

"Mom! The baby's awake!" shakes me from the deep I'd like to curl into, stay for a few days.

The day comes and goes in a flurry of beautiful, memorable moments(and a few truly ugly ones).

Then it hits me again tonight, as soon as the space opens wide and quiet and dark. The sadness.

I guess it didn't all pour out last night, my eyes squeezed so tight, drops racing for the corners to escape all my crushing insides onto the safe of Husbands strong embracing arm.

I try to think back to the last time I cried more than a few tears... Grandmom's funeral?... to the last time I bone-shaking sobbed... upon hearing the results of Selah's paternity test?

What is now digging so deep, carving out this howling hollow?

My smallness. My empty hands.

Across the world waves wash away families, homes and all that used to be stable. And not so far away I watch loved ones sputter and flail and drown, the needs deeper than the prayer-words can whisper-name. And I choke on salt-water too, for all the ugly that washes out of me, and where oh where did that come from? I gasp and heave and just. can't. stop.

I feel... poor, needy. And ashamed because I know I have no true concept of the what that would really look like, in a material sense, anyway. I am used to being in an excellent financial position, and I'm not. I'm used to being in great health, and I'm not. I'm used to having the right words to say, and I don't.

I am in a season of regularly coming to the end of myself... my strength... my abilities... my resources. It has taken a lot for me to recognize this.

Instead of being an aid-giver I have recently been on the receiving end of gracious gifts and it wounded pride I didn't know was there. And pride wants to keep me from admitting I am prideful.

I am being humbled.

And I thought I had a willing knee.

I am barely, maybe, slightly seeing through tear-stinging eyes some of what it is to be poor in spirit.

Empty hands can be filled the most full.

"This poor man called, and the LORD heard him;

he saved him out of all his troubles."

~Psalm 34:6

Sharing some of what He is pouring into my humbled, gratefully cupped palms...

#286 Bright yellow, so delicate, fluttering by

#287 Husband who cares about being respected

#288 Husband who leads, humbles, by apologizing quickly, desires unity

#289 Learning to see and feel a new way through counting thanks

#290 Rain scent dripping for hours

#291 Girl playing as a duck in the rain, wild flapping the wings of her hooded duck towel

#292 Squishy rain boots

#293 Little-Girl joy-squealing "come fly with me!"

#294 a few moments of flying, the energy droplets and smiling brings(and some arm flapping)

#295 Selah calling out things for me to add to her gratitude list every few seconds and twirl-dance-shouting "I'm just getting carried away by the rain!... I'm getting carried away!..."

#296 The opportunity, and motivation, to learn more about my health

#297 Natural remedies that work

#298 veggie slices dipped in guacamole, helping me enjoy my super-restricted diet

#299 a free gift from Dad and Mom

#300 feeling better

#301 I am Second

#302 all the indescribably cute sideways motion Baby does when she runs or dances

#303 innocence

#304 2nd, and 3rd, and 70x7 chances, more

#305 patient, understanding, loving, joke-making-to-ease-the-not-so-pleasant, in sickness and in health, Husband

#306 friend who shows Mom, Selah and I around her farm, answers questions, gives time, supplies, encouragement

#307 Gideon, the great pyrenees watchdog for the chickens and goats

#308 a bluish-green egg gift for Little Girl

#309 that the egg didn't get crushed in her clutching palm on the car ride home

#310 Husband excited about creating, wanting to patent ideas, having the courage to have big goals and work towards them

#311 a new insight on manna, the Israelites, and my spoiled, variety-loving self

#312 recognizing sin and turning from it

#313 Sisters confessing, relating in the dark, reaching for the Light

#314 trying new recipes

#315 breaking food addictions

#316 a washed car

#317 last of the daylight melting away in rainbow sunset

#318 that when I am lonely, it is a good reminder that He misses me, and that I am missing Him