Love first.

It seems to be a simple concept.  It is direct instruction to us.  Love God.  Love your neighbor.

Then why are there times that this loving thing comes with great difficulty?  We can feel the love.  I mean act the love.  Then there are those times, the times when we don’t feel the love quite as much… the times that the anger, the hurt, the fear of baring our vulnerable souls get in the way.  I don’t want to be in the way of His love.  How do I get out of the way of myself to love with His heart?

I’ve heard it said

I love you… I just don’t like you very much right now

I know I’ve been there a time or two ~ or ten.  Those times when I am at my wit’s end… done with chores, done with responsibilities, done with complaining, done with all the needing…

These are the times to wrap myself in love in order to wrap them in love.  This is when acting love is an act from God.

It’s easy to love when you’re feeling all warm and fuzzy… the chores are done without a whimper (does not happen, well sometimes on Christmas… or mother’s day), the schoolwork is done without a complaint (again, not so much), the children are holding hands while running through a field of flowers (ok, maybe on a beach… at the direction of a photographer).  It’s easy to overflow with love… when all is going well.  Acting love when it’s not so pretty… this is the tough one.  The most important one.  The one they’ll remember.  The love they’ll carry with them… and pass on.  It’s easy to love my children, my husband, my family, my friends… what about the ones that aren’t quite as loveable ~ through my eyes?  How do I teach my little flock to love the unloveable?

A heart for love during the most unloveable of times… I need His eyes.

Love when it’s not easy.

I want to love as I am loved.  I want to see others as Christ sees us.  

This is the tough love… the love that matters most.  This is the love that can only be done with the overflow of what He gives us.

I’ve let the thought of love tumble through my mind like a marble searching for the clearest path through the maze.

It is quite startling what you can see in another soul’s eyes when you ask God for a glimpse of how He sees.  Startling how the heart stirs at the glimpse.  The only way I know how to truly love my neighbor… my neighborhood of flawed human souls is to ask Him to fill me with it… and then get out of the way.  Just get out of His way.  This, a life long exercise.

The only way I know how to love so it matters is to see the eyes with His eyes.

Love first

As He loved me first

Before I ever knew Him.

To walk this walk, without tripping over myself, this is my prayer for today.  Get out of the way.  Yield to His way.  Love first.

1 John 4:19

We love because he first loved us.

My friend.

I think of my beautiful friend… her green eyes… her dark hair… her perfectly beautiful smile.  I see her face before me.  I can hear her voice… her laugh… the funny voices we would use with each other.  I can see her throw her head back and execute the perfect ‘Snoopy cry’… that cry he bellowed from the depth of his doggy heart.  She made me laugh.  My friend for twenty years.  Twenty years…
I didn’t know when I met her… she was already at middle age… middle age at 20 years old…

her green eyes

They sparkle at me from photos… photos that span over twenty years of a friendship.

I think of the countless memories… the memories flood back to me now.  Things that I had forgotten to remember… in the hurry of life.

I think of the phone call… her voice thick with fear… the diagnosis… a nightmare.  The pink ribbons.  The pink ribbons a banner for so many.  The pink ribbon so personal now.

I think of her fight… for years she fought.  Her husband, her babies… they all fought.

These last years, these fighting for life years… this is when we talked the most about God.

She didn’t complain… she showed amazing grace in these fighting years.  I smile remembering that she and I complained so much more during other times in the twenty years… the times that there was much less to complain about.

I prayed and prayed… we all prayed and prayed…

I remember her words…

it will always be okay

the good news, the bad news, even when I die…

it will always be okay

I think of the faces of her husband, her daughter, her son, her sister, her dear daddy… the faces she had loved.  The amazing grace in these faces… strength given only by God.

I have wondered why… I have felt the pain of her absence ~ like a punch in the stomach…  I have heard them say, those whom she loved so dearly,

We will see her again

I have never been more sure of that truth… the God truth… we will see her again…

I gaze out my window, the blur of tears clearing my sight… to see the little red cherries… a gift from her.

The little ornament dangling in the sunlight… the red and green sparkling in the sunlight…
her green eyes… His red blood 

Shed for us.

We will see her again.

I placed my hand on her last earthly bed… I whispered… I will see you again…

it will always be okay

John 16:22

So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. 

Mornings.  I am not a morning person.  In all my years of being mommy, I still haven’t mastered the morning routine.  I start the morning with a prayer…

please put Your plans in front of mine today

That about covers it ~ and I have bucket full of plans for the day…

Then, as happens sometimes, the first words are a grumble.  The grumble is returned with a sharp tongue, and so it begins… the stomach churning ride up and down… the ride of emotions… frustration, anger, followed by apologies… short time passes, then more of the ride.  Splatters of laughter sprinkled between the pokes and jabs.  A day of many plans, too short time, even shorter temper, and the focus… blurs.

Crying, whining, gnashing of teeth (mostly mom’s)… and the picture of domesticity loses perspective.  The big picture ~ the God focus ~ gets lost in my plans.

The wish to start over… start fresh… a “morning re-do.”

Small arms wrap all around ~ longing for the same… turn back the clocks ~ reclaim the stolen hour, taken to welcome the spring.  The little arms, like an octopus, wrapping around mama’s frustrations and squeezing.  Mother angst has no choice but to release under that much pressure… the forgiveness so freely given, the embracing tentacles wrapping and unwrapping… unwrapping a new start.

That’s when God answers… when the plan is taken from my will… squeezed into His.  These God moments, they can not be predicted… a “re-do”… a message carried by a dear friend… sending words for the soul.  The words from Him ~ a sudden jolt to focus…

Psalm 143:8
Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go, 
for to you I lift up my soul. 


The morning comes… sometimes in the middle of the day.