The kids are down for the night.
It's kind of early, and it wasn't a struggle to get any of them to sleep.
This is a beautiful, rare gift and my mind races ahead to which of the countless tasks to attend to.
I want to write.
This feeling has been burning in me for days. I wake up thinking about writing, and I go to sleep still wishing I could scratch down these thoughts that only find their way out through long wandering roads of time.
But I walk downstairs knowing the dishes need to be done, the table really should be cleared and wiped off if tomorrow's school day is to begin smoothly, and that peace lily bowing lower is just begging to finally be watered.
I stop in front of the table piled high with the results of imagination and meals and wonder how I am going to find the emotional strength to find the surface of this thing. Again.
What I really want to do is run out the door and hole up in a beautiful, quiet space somewhere and just write my heart out for about two months. I've got the kind of passion that doesn't want to be bothered by even stopping to eat. But even if I could convince myself the husband, and seven year old and two year old would be fine... I can't get around that the nursing baby needs me here. A lot. My "work" hours are pretty much from 7 a.m. until 9:30 p.m. I think they'd notice.
Then He spoke into my spirit, my loving, hilarious God said something I never expected Him to say. And I couldn't see Him, but I know He was smiling.
"Wax on, wax off."
And laughter is a good medicine and I took it and began cleaning things up, one by one.
I'm glad You're here with me. I thought to Him. I haven't thought of that movie in a long time.
I could still feel Him smiling.
I smiled back, now wiping big circles on the table, teasing Him at the cheesiness of it all "wax on, wax off. "
So that's it, then? I asked Him. You are preparing me for the fight?
I think He was nodding. In ways you are not always going to understand.
And as He talked to me, about the repetitive movements of my life that can seem mundane, painfully pointless, unrelated... but that I really needed to strengthen specific spiritual muscles to be able to fight the good fight.... I just wanted to cry.
Because... His presence is the reward.
His comment is what I long for.
Walking with Him is the goal.
Glorifying Him... Investing my time and talents well for Him... that can happen now.
That can always, only, happen now.
I tell Him I long to be the kind of woman He can entrust big things to. I agree that I need much, much preparation and I will wax on, wax off as long as He says to and then I will try to remember to trust when He says "now paint the fence." Then the house.
(I realize a reader who has not seen The Karate Kid has no idea what I'm referring to. I'm sorry. If you watch it you'll understand)
I worked and I prayed to learn the great strength it takes to bend low and wait on the Lord, and wait as long as He says wait...
And I told Him I've thought about the parable of the talents a lot. And I've always felt like I'm so weak and afraid and unsure about what to do with what He gives me that I must be like the one He gave one talent to... and I've got to try to figure out how to not bury it. I've got to figure out how to invest it so I can hear what I ache for... "well done, good and faithful servant!...". And... just maybe... someday be entrusted with more?
And Jesus surprised me because He stopped my scrubbing and cupped my face and made spirit-eye-contact and said: "three eternal souls that you have a major role in sculpting is not chump change."
Why do I forget that?
Lord, forgive me.
And I don't know why He talks to me. I don't know why He loves me so. But I can barely see the screen to type these words that you need to know that:
He. Loves. You.
And if He is preparing you for serving Him in some other way in the future I encourage you to not minimize or neglect what He is entrusting to you in this moment.
There is no greater reward than being in His presence.
Lord, I am so in love with You.
I just wanted this to be a public, heart-bawling-whisper "thank You."