Today he slapped a sticker the size of Texas on his baby brother.  Right smack on the top of his sweet baby bird hair.  It was the industrial sticky strength kind.  The happy babe face turned to screams and writhing when I attempted to even tug at the side.

How am I going to unstick what’s been stuck?

As I considered this, I wondered to myself how often I find myself in this same place.

There once was a man who, too, was stuck to a mat.  For thirty-eight years, he lay there.

Jesus asked, “Would you like to get well?”

I can’t.

The mat sticks hard.

There is no one is here to put me in the pool.

Excuses abound.

What are mine?

There is no time, there is not enough money. The boys are too small.  The work feels too great. Overwhelmed (or underwhelmed) with expectations, I find myself frozen.

Like the paralytic, my body also lies stuck, unable to move.

But Jesus didn’t ask for excuses.  He asked if I wanted to become well. 

Do I?  

Do I really?

Or do I sort of like the excuses for the stuck places in my life, acting as a shield, enabling me to slough off that which I am really called towards?

Because sometimes it feels easier to just stay put.

But that’s just it.

Jesus didn’t ask about me what I am capable of doing.

Jesus, himself, asked if I wanted to be well.

Because he knows that I can’t heal myself.  I can’t unstick for myself that which has been stuck. He didn’t ask how I was going to get up and pick up that mat.

That is his job.

He just asked if I wanted to be healed. If I wanted to become unstuck from that sticky mat.

Of course, I do.

The answer was simple–stand up, pick up your mat, and walk!

Get up.  Do it. Stop making excuses.

Stand up–right where I am.

There is nothing sticking me there, other than me.

For the One who has called me, goes with me.

Action is the best way to counteract paralysis.

Do something.  Even something small.  The only one keeping things stuck, is me.

And Jesus calls me to life which is far greater than this. For as I journey with the One who calls me forth, I find that oil flows and grace is poured out, enabling me to do things that are far greater than what I could ever dare to dream or imagine.  Why become paralyzed by possibilities ahead when the One who has called you forth goes with?

Because it is not about me and what I can or can’t do…because I will always fall short. I will always remain stuck to the mat, as long as I focus on me.

Rather, it is about the One who calls me out,

about the One who calls me forth,

and invites me to simply stand up.

And walk.

Where God calls, God will lead and provide everything I need.

Always.

As I grab the bottle of olive oil from the shelf, I begin to sing, “Give me oil in my lamp, keep me burning…”   As I rub it into his baby bird fluff, working it under the sticker, it instantly unsticks the stuck.

Because  maybe that is it…even in the midst of the stuck of life, oil is offered.

And as I accept this cup that overflows,

Grace is poured out,

and in those places where I seem most stuck, I find myself with an invitation to get up,

and move.

Greater things lie beyond the sticky old mat.

Roll it up and leave it behind.

What is God calling forth from you?  Where in your life do you need the courage to stand up and walk?  May the oil of grace cover you today, releasing yourself into the arms of the One who calls you forth.

 

 

I wonder if coming back to blogging after a long hiatus is like riding a bike?

Does muscle memory take over?

That all I need to do is sit down, move my fingers,

and trust that what is supposed to come

will come?

I have taken some intentional time off because quite plainly,

I am tired of writing.

I am sick and tired of thinking of words.

Of writing words.

Of reading my words.

I don’t know if anyone else who has attempted to write a book has felt like this, but it has hit me hard.  Yet this blog was the reason I was able to write the book (coming Winter ’14!!)  was because of this medium.  Blogging has enabled me to discover that which I did I not know I had.  Gifts that I had no idea were deep within–words.  And this was the time and place and space for this gift to be released.  And it was all divine surprise.

I had no idea.

But living, breathing, dreaming words these past 2 years to get this manuscript (which still might only be a sopping wet 100 pages) has been quite the fight.  The struggle with me embracing this gift and opportunity, to being vulnerable and open for the fruits to come forth.

It wasn’t always pretty.

It wasn’t ever glamorous.

Most of the time it was just plain hard.

But somewhere at the intersection of exhaustion and self-pity, towards the end of my manuscript writing, where I wondered what I had gotten into and maybe I heard wrong–maybe this wasn’t what I was to do–because isn’t that what I’ve always heard…

Everyone has God given gifts and talents!

Your gifts give you life!

Your gifts bring about joy and purpose and make the world a better place!

Between wanting to pull my hair out and run away to another country,

I remembered labor.

Labor hurts.
It hurts like hell.

Zach was 9 pounds 9 ounces, and came into this world in just under 3 hours and 4 pushes.

And I felt absolutely every bit of his hoss body emerge into this world.

So as I sat there and applied my guiding principles that “gifts/my call” supposing that it should feel like rainbows and unicorns doesn’t cut it.

Because sometimes in order to get to the gift, you have to go through labor.

And labor hurts.

But the gift is there.

In this soul work, the gift emerges in time, and I stare in amazement at what the Creator knit together.

Whether that be 9 pounds 9 ounces of flesh and bone or 3 measly ounces of wood pulp.

It is coming, folks. It is coming.

Thanks for sticking with me as it unfolds and breathes its own life.

Making meaning in each of you.

This journey of writing my own awakening to the ministry of parenthood has been quite the journey indeed.

And it is far from over.

Thanks for joining with me through this labor because as my dear friend and mentor told me in the most difficult days of writing,

no one labors alone.

And so when my fabulous sister-in-law, Catie, asked me today about the blog and how she checks in from time to time to see if anything is new, she reminded me about this

community that companions.

 

As I offer what I’ve been given, I find that I am sustained all along the way and gird up the courage to keep on keeping on.

 

Whatever your gift(s) are, how are you being invited to offer them to the community around you, not only to share the load, but through sharing bless and multiply the gift given? 

Dear friends,

 

I am coming hard upon yet another deadline for my book, and have found it difficult to keep up with regular blogging at this point.  Hang in there with me!  This process has been such a faith widening experience for me, and at numerous time I’ve been close to throwing in the towel (seriously what was I thinking trying to write a book with three little boys at home?!?!?!?!), but God has proven faithful time and time again.  I am excited to see how it all comes together, finally.  What a journey to co-labor with God.

I’ll be in touch….and check back in here when I am able…