Elise; Christ at the dinner table

“Hey, Elise?—Nevermind…”
“What?”
“Well, I was just going to see if you could fill up my glass of water, but I don’t want to bother you. I can do it myself…”
“No! It’s okay! If you need it filled up again, I can do it.”

Knocked between the eyes by overwhelming humility,
a blow to my big head.
I was looking at Christ.
This six-year-old.
Still scented with the fragrance of being sealed with the Holy Spirit,
my new sister in Christ.
She was heaping burning coals on my selfishness.
I’m taken back, stumbling.
How I’ve despised her.
She’s everything I’m not, and have struggled to be.
confidant,
athletic,
bold,
level-headed,
socially natural,
easy-going,
and not afraid to speak her mind.
She’s the one who’s space is tidy, who offers to help Mom fold clothes, iron, wash dishes, and clean.
She’s the one always ready to help, as I slip away for some alone time to write and think.
and now this raw display of selflessness;
tonight I was faced with Christ at the dinner table.
Christ in my dear sister, Elise.
“…whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave—just as the Son of Man did not some to be served, but to serve…”*

Lord, I ask that you grant me humility, a humble heart. Teach me how to serve. Give me the humility to learn from my younger sister , my dear, dear sister whom I cherish with all my heart, Elise, your precious selfless servant.

*Matthew 20:26-28

An apple a day does nothing; i just need a heart-checkup

His clock reigns supreme.
I cast down epitaph on the gravestone where I died to sin: “to all her previous ambitions, cares, and strivings; they count as loss.”
For the sake of the Lamb, to fear His Name is to pronounce death to personal passions.
They rot under the
penetrating,
squelching
unique,
and
desirable
radiance
of His love.
Making my love work is like voluntarily planting a tumor in my heart.
It grows, eating up the tender, beating flesh of my reddish vital organ, until growing so big, it overshadows my One True Love.
It must be surgically removed which causes pain and moderate scarring.
“Regular check-ups with your Creator should be administered regularly to ensure that your heart is humbled and healthy.”
You never find that savory morsel of advice
in the health tips
on cereal boxes.
Like the Israelites, I choose to test and experiment according to my desires.
Karin, it would’ve been much easier to surrender in the first place.
Fall in love with the Lord.
It’s best.
He can (or not) chose to grant me the desires of my heart in his timing—no side-effects or scarring required.

the Lord's diversity

A coffee shop on the corner of a street I don’t know.
Inside, wisps of wonderful greet my nose.
Dim lights cast an aura of welcome to my eyes.
Musical young men set up their amps, all the while light-hearted joking is tossed from mouth to mouth.
The first musician takes his place.
He finishes.
The second replaces him.
I’ve never seen a leaner human being.
Is it possible that all the vital organs are tucked away in his small frame?
He’s alive; I suppose they are.
From his wiry build comes a sweet voice.
He weaves a folk-ish ballad all his own; death has the pedestal in his music.
My heart breaks and is lulled by the mournful song.
“Lord, this is your creation, gifted so generously, yet lost with the sorrow of fallen-ness.”
There’s an element of intrigue intertwined in the presence of these young men.
I sense a bond between them, almost like a tight brotherhood, a shelter from rejection, a cove to thrive in the uniqueness of different masculinity.
Their music takes them to a place much different from the war cries of men in battle or the intensity of a fight.
Yet, they are not less; they simply relate to others based on their unique view of themselves and bond to music.
I was refreshed to be around so many different personalities, all made in the image of God, all exactly unique.
A taste of the Lord’s diversity.