Written on May 30, 2017.
The blog last week held an invitation to write a letter each day for a week, sharing with another something precious. We find, our week invites us to write one letter to all of you.
One month ago, on Ma’s birthday, we went to a little room with a big screen, not knowing what we would see. Beats, swishes and firefly flickers filled the room and our hearts. And we stood amazed that what once had been closed was now opened.
Friday, we had another opportunity to go to a little room with a big screen. The day before some things began that were a little unsettling and so when the screen showed a pregnant womb without our little loves inside, we knew that Heaven had grazed earth with their lives for a much shorter time than our hearts expected. And so, with little trees deeply rooted and firmly planted in the heavenlies, we loosened our hold of our ideas for earth. Eleven weeks and five days they filled a womb that should have been empty till Heaven. And we still stand amazed. Eleven is Kaf which means open hands – those that give freely what they have been given.
And so we give, because He is so good. The miracle is no less because the outcome looks different. We didn’t say yes to an expected outcome but a living, breathing, pulsing story that is still being told. He asked if we were willing. We said yes and laid our wills down for His. He asked us again this morning. We don’t know what that means any more than we did upon his first asking, but we know we want to stay in this story – with Him.
Our womb is not empty, but open. That miracle – that impossible – won’t let us go. Because we know it was an opening for us all. When what was once shut is opened, what has never been can come. These are the days we are in and we feel like the most privileged of people to be in them. With you.
My body has been on a journey to remember what it once did without effort. It fell a few moments shy, yet the memories are there, making way for the never been. We walked up a set of stairs yesterday after our sonogram and it was lined with rose blossoms. They said to our hearts that a way has been prepared and we can respond by preparing ourselves.
On the way to our appointment Friday, we passed two Ram trucks in a row. A covenant sign. For Jesus as ram, means power. His horns are not caught in a thicket but formed in a crown. That is His heart for us. And we learn, sometimes it takes power to let go, to let tears flow, breaths to be ragged and hearts to break in order to beat. And it is those very cracks that light comes through and shows us the next step to take, the next risk to take, the unbelievable to believe.
One day, we were walking across Arubbah. We came to the tree Pa first sat beneath when we were discovering this land as ours. We had just learned we were pregnant. I (Ma) had a vision. A little girl was running ahead of us. I said, “Wait for us little tree.” She giggled and said, “Momma, you call us little trees. So why don’t we look like these trees?” I said, “Because these are what trees look like when they come to earth. You look like trees do in Heaven.” She ran ahead, giggling.
And so our trees our some steps ahead of us, revealing the joy set before us. The joy of being with Him. The very joy that is our strength.
We know your hearts will want to know how you can be with us, help us in some way. Remember. In these last few days of counting and recounting, these days of the Omer, remember all He has done and let Him prepare you (no matter what that looks like) for what is to come.
remember all He has done and let Him prepare you (no matter what that looks like) for what is to come.
This will be the last blog in the Shabbat Chronicle series, though it will flow into a new series, “Be Still Stories.” We will share more about Be Still Stories in its first installment next week. Most simply, it is an invitation to walk with us as we choose not to slam a book shut, resist a page that has words we would not have put to paper, or fear an empty page before us. It will be the telling of this story so far and the continued telling as it yet unfolds. For there is more to come. And we are willing – no matter what it looks like.
As part of Be Still, we invite you to follow @bestillstories on instagram. We will have special posts there as we go.
The joy of the Lord is our strength!