Love's Disappointment

All with love toward anyone has encountered disappointment. It's part and parcel to love. In fact, it's inescapable. When anyone decides to love another they open themselves up to all of its giddy butterflies as well as all of its heart wrenching aches. If you only want one end of love's continuum (the feel-good end), then you'll never know love at all. As the recipient of these juxtapositions, it's hard enough when you're stretched from one side to the other. But what about when you're the deliverer of them? It's not difficult to know when you're bringing the fulfilling part. You can see it on their face, you can sense it in their spirit, you can hear it in their voice. But if you're hearing, if you're watching, if you're attuned (if you're loving), then it's also not hard to know when you're bringing the not-so-fulfilling part. Hard love, complete love requires respect for both. This morning I promised my little Willow-tree that she'd have a special day with Daddy tomorrow, a day where we could hold hands, dress up, drink hot chocolate and gaze at dazzling Christmas trees. It would be a day to remember. I looked forward to it, and she spoke of it all day today to her friends, her siblings and her mother. But then life happened. Another love, another love was necessary, and that love would require this love to be disappointed. Now the tension. Now the choice. Either way, there's disappointment. That's love. But I learned something invaluable today. I learned something from a weeping Willow, a young sapling, a tender shoot. I learned that devoted love accepts disappointment when love extends beyond yourself. Willow knew that my love stretched beyond herself and that she could love by letting my love touch another. It didn't stop the tears, but it did soften the blow because she knew, even at five years of age, that you cannot hold onto love and hoard it. I suppose if I were to ask Willow if this is how she was loving today, she'd look at me with a tilted head and a puzzled look. But she doesn't have to explain it; she just has to live it.

"God with us", 2011

(This may be difficult to read in it's current image, but click on the picture and it will enlarge and become much more readable):

Emmanuel,

A Fool In My Strength

O' those words
They seem like foolishness to the dust
They seem like lies from another man
O' Your book
A cross with a dying soul
A body that's more than man?

You are giving me eyes
You're giving me eyes to see
You are giving me life
You're giving me life to be

Being saved
Wisdom that is composed
Power has me enclosed, by You

You are giving me eyes
You're giving me eyes to see
You are giving me life
You're giving me life to be

Your foolishness
Your foolishness is wiser than me
You weakness
Your weakness is stronger than me

Wisdom?
Strength?
Foolishness to the dust
Shaming the wise
Weakness to trust
Shaming the strong

You are giving me eyes
You're giving me eyes to see
You are giving me life
You're giving me life to be

You have given me eyes
You've given me eyes to clearly see

You have given me life
You've given me life to really be

- tmk

- 12.11.2011

- I Corinthians 1:18-31

there's a spider in my room

"there's a spider in my room", says the tired Poppy to her daddy. sleeping in a place with such a creature, even if all the way on the other side and only minuscule in size, is just simply impossible. "let me take care of that for you, Sweetie", says daddy. as if not afraid, but truly so, she takes my hand and walks down the hallway to the bed. not looking, but only pointing in a direction to a dark splotch on the wall, I say as I see her unwelcome guest, "no problem". leaving, I return with tissue in hand while she watched its death, and now at peace.

I don't like the spiders of life; they're creepy, feeling on the move, wondering what they are and when they might bite. few do, but it's not knowing that makes me restless. sometimes, oftentimes, I just lie there, hoping they won't venture my way. I can't sleep. yet, all the while, my Father's right next door, ready to comfort, ready to "take care of that for you." it's "no problem" for Him. that's why He's there.

Poppy, being Poppy, has helped me tonight. I shall rest in peace, as she now is, without the fear of spiders in our room.

more than enough

i WAS tired, far sooner than usual. a 9:15 beckoning to a down comforter seemed just right. it takes awhile for such soft surfaces to warm up when all alone, but once there i found a slight cough troubled my throat, enough to keep me from leaving that state to another. my tiredness turned to restlessness, and for the first time in a long while i felt as though God was asking me to arise quickly - He had something to say to me. after reading a bit, i meandered over here to start writing; something i've not done in awhile.

writing for others to read has me stumped - my motives constantly in check. a respite necessary, just to make sure that my thing doesn't become THE thing, always wanting (deep down) for Jesus to be that. even my family, my children, my wife, our adoptions, they cannot be THE thing, but they have at times, often times. my greatest quandary in life, yes the greatest of all, is living in love with Jesus at the expense of myself. the pull to have others see me more than even Jesus is almost Herculean. i'm ashamed. and yet, deep down, i know, i know for sure where my true love resides. and so, i'm back, yet again, to try to exalt what i love, what is Love, and to do so through me, through us, to only see Him.

our lives are simple - we're married and in love, we have many children, we have work, we have a home, we even have health (for now)... nothing exemplary, nothing outstanding. but there's a drive to be outstanding, to be exemplary, to be... as if, it were not good enough. and this, this has been the strife. when will i, when will we be good enough? when will we have done enough? when is enough enough? never, simply never, because enough is Jesus.

i've returned from my favorite place on earth over Thanksgiving break to this grounding truth. all else is fading into the fog again, fading under this love. and o' how sweet those moments are when you see clearly the overarching truth that to love God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might is liberating, and then all of the sudden you see clearly that everything else now falls into place - when loving becomes all.

with more than enough,