Thursday, October 24, 2013

Oatmeal


Oftentimes when I'm needing to talk to Jesus, which is absolutely frequently, I think of Him picking me up in a 70's, artsy Volkswagen van with orange curtains, windows down,and coffee for the two of us. He's the coffee expert, so imagine the brew we share. I climb in. Its not about the van, its about me showing that its personal. Him and I. Back and forth.

 I imagine Him driving me through the curvy Carolina countryside. It usually takes a few moments for me to say something. The pre-planned venting and the defense lawyer comments sometimes reach my lips. Often its all heart-improv and desperate yearnings for wisdom and guidance.  But somedays, I stare out my window without saying a word, hair flowing and head back against my seat,my heart pounding, and it's just small, weak, tears.

Just yesterday in the prayer van, it was continual conversations about these things. 
The lady from India I just read about that is still bugging me. And that 16 year old that was mutilated by Houston gangs last week, it's horrible, I tell Him. And my blood work results are taking a long time. Where are we moving to next? How can I get Jackson to eat his dinners? How'd time figure out how to speed up? Show me what I'm covering thats holding me back. I don't know how to mother today. Are there any friends for my boys? And Jesus slow down, its raining.

There comes a time in a follower of Jesus journey when they let in deeply that God hears them.

And that changes things.

Because when I realize that I'm talking to God. Actually talking to Him and he's listening to me, theres so much beauty in that. I've come to know this profoundly, because when I think of this beautiful truth, I don't zoom past it. 

Its enough.

 I'm not asleep to this.  It comforts me. 

A hippy van is much easier for me to picture than a throne in heaven.  Yeah, go ahead and punch me for the outta context environment. Like I said, Its not about the van. 

He hears!

If I say the word oatmeal. He hears that. And until my heart grabbed that He really does hear me and I believed it in a way that got through, I felt quite on my own. Believing Jesus actually hears me has changed my life.

Thankfully, I quit walking around saying 

Oatmeal.

Oatmeal. 

Oatmeal. 

Oatmeal. (laughing)

There's so many other things to talk about these days. I'm in my 30's.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Rock or Ball

Dave had decided to run into the thrift store the other day and look for a screen so the kids could watch their movies. The kids and I waited in the car. He said he wouldn't be long. He was wrong.
I have quit looking on my phone when in the car with my kids. I've realized how weird it must be to look in on the situation and see a mom sitting in silence staring at a rectangle while her boisterous children sit right behind her. I can't rid that thought. And I can't miss moments anymore. I'm done with filler moments, the phone surfing additives and the busy artificial ingredients I so often dump in my day.

I started talking to my kids about whatever came up. I read them a verse. And then. We heard a trucks desperation noises. We glanced over across the parking lot at the lady with her small child in the backseat, trying to start her falling apart small pick up truck. It wouldn't start. Over and over. She tried. It wouldn't. We watched her head collapse on the steering wheel. I know that feeling. I know those moments. She kept turning the key hoping. Needing it to start. It was near dusk and I knew she needed to get on home. 

We always need home.

We prayed for her. Not longer than a few moments later her truck was going over the curb and driving off. We all laughed as the trucks wheels all hit the pavement again and squealed off. We watched them leave us for good, as the Texas sunset closed the scene.
It was only a few seconds before my oldest son asked.
Mom would you rather be friends with a ball or a rock?
The question surprised me. Hmm. I smiled. I like when they ask me things. Things that drive us places deep within.
I didn't answer quite yet. I'm a mom, I was thinking.
Jackson piped up.
If you were friends with a ball what would you do if the wind blew? When the wind blows mom you don't want friends that are balls. You'd be all alone.
I had decided as he was saying this that I would go with rock. Absolutely.
I didn't tell them yet.
Mom, Christian started up, friends are supposed to stick close, like a brother, so I would pick a rock. Rocks stay and stay.
Me too Jackson said. I don't want ball friends. I know there's wind.
I'd pick a rock too guys. I told them.
It's a cool moment when you realize you've been reading to them about God being the everlasting rock and they are processing it in little heart-worlds filled with whimsy and curiosity.
It's official. We all want rocks. I think about getting them rocks for Christmas, but I remember this is a principal. Not actual rocks we all want.
Dave took a good long while. He returned empty handed with a story of his own about the screens and the adapters. And as we drove away, they asked him.
Dad would you rather be friends with a ball or a rock?
He turned the corner and smiled the question in. Sometimes a dads wisdom can see a mile or two down the road.
A rock, he said.
And with this household it gets crazy quick.
Ok. Jackson said. Would you rather be friends with....... a stick or a leaf?
The scenarios kept changing. And they kept pondering what is it about friends that make them worth having the whole drive home.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Change your view

I hang out with my kids a lot.


They had started getting restless and were always waiting  for the next thing to happen. Easily bored. Unable to see what they were staring at.

I decided to take them noticing.


Rao's bakery was first. We sat and ate cookies-and-cream gelato with small, brightly colored plastic forks at the long wrap around booth by the order line. We shared a big, fat, fresh cinnamon roll. For a few seconds there were forks colliding and screeching together like seagulls grabbing for crumbs. And then about five minutes later I heard.

K mom, moooom lets go.

They were missing so much.

And that's when I started it.

We are not leaving here till you each tell me ten things you notice, I said firmly. 

I sat and sipped my coffee  listening to this.

Ugh.
This is no fun.
Mom is being dumb.

And then.

Jackson found his own wonder! Mom look at those mirrors. They are so huge and cool looking, he said excitedly. We all turned. Six large, silver mirrors hung the wall to life. We stared till we all took it in.

Mom! Christian interrupted us. Look at those tiny lights up on the ceiling. You can hardly see them there. 

And then quiet. 

Until.

Mom that old man over there is eating alone.

We watched him. He didnt set his fork down between bites. He'd stare off alone into the room. We gave a smile when our eyes met.

Mom that worker looks annoyed, like she wants more workers with her.

And on.

Look at all those random coffee cups for sale on that table.

Do you see all those cupcakes behind the glass?

Look at that old antique coffee grinder. Wow. 

...

I took them to get groceries next. I started taking pics of what they noticed .

Christian saw bumper stickers and they made him laugh and laugh.

They noticed the green peppers. They smelled like my dads garden. A mixture of love and hard work. We stopped and smelled them for a minute.

They noticed new fruits.

They noticed there weren't very many lobsters left in the tank.

They noticed the watermelon sticker said Charity. They love aunt Charity. 
They begged me to buy it. Moms will do stuff like that. 

And on the way home, there was bird spotting, a new fountain found and the gas station seemed very busy to them.

I've always loved the phrase

Change your view and your view will change.

And it was happening. Their view was changing. And I was getting to see their views. And that was changing me.

The other day we got out of our car to go in the bookstore. An elderly couple was walking past and the man was softly whistling. Like grandpa Hatch used to do. Step by step, small whistles went out. 

And, not one of us missed that.