Significance of Design

toes of little onion bulbs all blooming in a row.
five summers ago on the day of disclosure, the tips of these toes were barely larger than yaupon berries, doll feet cradling delicately in the comparatively massive mommy palm. as time passes they elongate and curve -- formation necessary for running, climbing, leaping, galloping and cart-wheeling.

high arches, roughened soles, perennially scraped cuticles, soiled heels...these are the feet of my daughter. i marvel at their design, handcrafted by the artist of our universe.

planets orbiting, stars burning, moon reflecting, earth inhabiting, ocean tiding, whales breaching, mountains soaring, land carving, feet calibrating -- all spoken word of the sovereign designer.

how precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
how vast is the sum of them!
Psalm 139:17

significance found in the humbly insignificant: feet.

a mother's prayer for the feet of her child:
Sovereign Creator, Father of love, turn to my daughter and have mercy on her, as you always do to those who love your name. direct her footsteps according to your word; let no sin rule over her. redeem her from the oppression of men, that she may obey your precepts.

New Life

Then he said to them all: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. Luke 9:23-24 NIV

passivity, laziness, time-wasting, self-serving evenings-- all share weight on this cross i bear today. these particular sins have bubbled to the surface, illuminated by the spirit of truth, needing attention, action. today i take up this cross and follow Him. stumbling under the weight and burden of this yoke, i am eager to be free of it.

For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin— because anyone who has died has been freed from sin. Romans 6:6-7 NIV

freedom from sin! the price is high, though -- death.
yet, at this point, death will be a relief. the necessary option.
freedom through death.

hope whispers more...

If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection. Romans 6:5 NIV

certainly united in resurrection
death is not the end. this is certain.
death is the beginning. the beginning of renewal; a new life. life free from the weight and burden of sin.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! 2 Corinthians 5:17

so, i take up this cross of self-serving attitudes and follow Him. losing my life, bit by bit.
necessary death leads to certain resurrection.

For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace. Romans 6:14

and i look forward to the power of grace working, transforming this broken vessel into something beautiful, loving, selfless.

photo: symbolically celebrating "new life" through death in Christ - planting flowers

embracing the story, preparing hearts

"I'll paint these and you can paint one of the howts," plans the oldest, harboring an arm span of baked dough shapes.

"Let's only choose pieces that tell the Easter Story." i direct.

"This is a colt. We'll use him," she decisively declares, cradling a baked dough horse in her open palm.

"Hmmm, ok. Is there a colt in the Easter Story?" i probe.

silence. thinking. "Yes, Jesus rode on a colt to Jerusalem," daughter quietly answers, waves of honey cascading past her shoulders. for a moment i close my eyes and offer up a silent prayer of thanksgiving for knowledge growing from scattered seeds taking root in the heart of this child .

after painting, we decide on an order to the dough shapes that will hang at the kitchen window retelling and reminding: heart, colt, heart, cross, heart, angel, cross, star.

we slide the fuchsia ribbon through the first heart. this is how the Easter story begins, with love.
For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son...John 3:16
to seek, save, serve, and restore, replacing stone with flesh.

next we thread the ribbon through the colt.
Go...and you will find a colt.... Mark 11:2
This colt "which no one has ever ridden" will carry the Messiah into his final days before the crucifixion. a humble, lowly little colt to carry the King of Kings. i pause and consider the vessels He uses; my heart leaps with hope.

another heart is added to the line. with this heart we talk about the love Jesus has for us which leads Him to die in obedience to the Father. Jesus: seeker, savior, servant, healer, teacher, sinless one took on Himself all of our shameful, disgusting, disturbing, hateful, hurtful, deadly sins that separate us from God. this plan was so magnificent, so incomprehensibly complex while simple, so absolutely fueled by love.

this brings us to the cross.
And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death— even death on a cross! Philippians 2:8
a death reserved for criminals, insurrectionists. whipped, ridiculed, pierced, nailed, hung, separated from the Father....all for us.


we string along another heart to reiterate the unprecedented, sacrificial love Jesus has for us.

next we come to the angel. this is Ava's favorite part of the story. mary, Jesus' friend, and a few other women are the first to see the empty tomb. dismayed, confused, they grasp for understanding. while standing there wondering, angels bright as lightening appear and say,
"Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!" Luke 24:6
yet we do it, don't we? look for the living among the dead?
this query strikes the heart, bringing everything into startling focus:
He is not here.
Father, bring my heart into focus. help me to only search for You among the living.

a second cross is added to the line of figures. this one serves as a reminder: He is not here; he has risen!

we thread the last of our shapes: a star splashed bright with yellow. our hearts propelled into startling focus by the resurrection, we are given direction and clarity.
"I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." John 8:12
"Jesus is the light of the world!" proclaims the softened four-and-a-half-year-old heart glowing in the morning sunlight across the table from me.
Savior, shine Your light in every dark crevice of my heart. bring into the open that which is sinful and dead. strengthen me to repent and accept Your loving grace and forgiveness.

tying a knot at the end of our shapes, my eye is drawn to the fuchsia ribbon weaving through the story, connecting pieces. my heart weakens with realization. His flowing blood is a fuchsia ribbon weaving through our hearts, supplying life. this blood flows, restoring us back into relationship with Creator, Father, Love.
Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in him. John 6:56
drink this blood of life. remain in Him.

kitchen window flooding with morning light, i hang the symbolic figures retelling the Easter story. a story so incomprehensibly complex while simple, so absolutely fueled by love.
my gaze drifts beyond the window to a worshipful expression of new life, rebirth: a trellis heavy with expectant yellow buds of carolina jessamine.
father, thank you for this new life, rebirth i have through Christ Jesus. i pray that my heart, also, is heavy with expectant buds fueled by the richest of soil, the flowing blood of your Son.

anointed outpouring

Six days before the Passover, Jesus arrived at Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Here a dinner was given in Jesus' honor. Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him.

closing eyes, i run my hands across the grain of wood piled with steaming dishes serving a feast to honor our savior; feel the skimming of Martha's linen as she prepares and serves; listen to the rise and fall of male voices, clinking of platters, rustling of robes.

Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus' feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

and slowly, deliberately inhale the costly, sacrificial, purposeful, love-filled outpouring of perfume.

a spilled vile of cabbage patch perfume in childhood clutched in the dripping palm of a clumsy, growing girl. room of dolls, mini-records, rainbow splashed wall quickly filled with the sweetened water of a savored possession. a scent that lingered days, weeks, decades in the walls of memory.

i wonder how long...
the fragrance filled the house were Jesus dined?
remnants lingered in mary's hair?
scent-memory stained the nasal membranes of everyone attending the feast?

the hour was quickly approaching.
the time when Jesus would be the one to pour out a fragrant offering. the costly, sacrificial, purposeful, love-filled outpouring of blood. And the world and heavens would fill with the fragrance of the sacrifice.

Your Spirit beckons, awakening my senses. deeply, reverently i inhale.

But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected,"Why wasn't this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a years' wages." He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it.

yet the timing and means are difficult to grasp.

excuse me, Lord, you are approaching this matter all wrong. as we see it with our limited, one-dimension earthly vision, the plan should be that You save Israel by restoring the kingdom to the Jews. have you noticed the oppression, lack of favor, unfair governmental practices? or have you been too busy dining with sinners, healing on the Sabbath, teaching multitudes? i can think of a million more profitable things You should be doing besides hanging there, dying, spilling blood that is much more useful inside your body keeping you alive.

"Leave her alone, " Jesus replied. "It was intended, that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me." John 12: 1-8

it was intended.

mary worshiped through a ceremonial outpouring of perfume.
Jesus worshiped through obedience with the outpouring of blood.
both costly, one immeasurably.
both sacrificial, one ultimately.
both purposeful, one restores life.
both love-filled, one endures forever.

Lord, stain this heart with the scent-memory of your costly, sacrificial, purposeful, love-filled outpouring of blood. teach me to be extravagantly worshipful in the time I have with You.

one year, four days

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

one year, four days.

despite my passive attempt to prolong what is to come, the time not only arrived but is now four days past. how can a mother describe the complex emotions towards the impending arrival of her child's first birthday? of course there is great joy and contentment in assurance of her baby's health, growth and development. after all, days of spit-up smeared shirts, leaking diapers, leaking breasts and sleepless nights are pushed back into the recesses of foggy memories. yet there is sadness, a longing for what is gone: sweet, milky baby breath; warm, peppery scent of her head; cradling a sleeping newborn. if i linger in this vain, sorrow for what is passing by too quickly casts a shadow over me.

instead i strain a little harder, squinting through the fog beyond this bitter-sweet moment to a time when motherhood was a dream greater than weddings, husbands, houses. crossing over into adulthood, that dream was dashed upon the rocks by crashing, volatile waves. heart heavy with grief, eyes swollen and burning from weeks of sorrow, hands empty. i remember You pulling me close, embracing my broken heart, broken dreams and whispering Your faithfulness into my ear, thoughts, heart, spirit. clinging to Your promises with desperate grip, my heart steeped in Your words until they infused blood and bone. You gave a gift to fill my hands, soothe my burning eyes, and lighten my heavy heart. hope. hope for what was unseen, by all accounts impossible. You turned my sorrow into hope, anxiety into peace. what was meant for destruction, death of dreams, you conceived in my heart a faith and trust to grow, mature.

seven years of hope and peace passed.

a cry rung out in the warm June sky. the cry of hope, peace, faith and trust birthed in spirit and in flesh. tears flowed from a mother's eyes in awe of experiencing Your touch and faithfulness. blessings continued. three years later You brought forth miraculous life once more. an inheritance.

here we are one year, four days later. this heart of one multiplied into a house of four.

prosperity. hope. a future.

humbly, i bow in adoration and gratitude of Your character.