my one goal for the summer

I just read about a momma who was feeling discouraged by all the mommy-bloggers who are sharing their goals for the summer.

Well, I can hardly stand for that, can I?

Especially when I just explained how into rest I'm going to be for this season of my life.

And even more especially when we're supposed to be encouraging one another, we Christians.

"Love does not boast ..."

So hear this, precious discouraged momma, just wanting some rest and receiving what looks like law instead:

When you get a moment to sit down and read something (which, okay, never happens.  So go ahead, put down what you're doing and take a moment anyway), flip through your Bible to the Gospels, and you will find Good News:

You'll find that Jesus doesn't offer how-to's on goal-setting or productivity or even efficiency.  When we are weary, he offers rest and refreshment, encouraging us to choose the "one thing needed" like his friend Mary did - to sit at his feet and listen to his words, to abide in his words.

Let this be your one, simple goal for the summer:  to sit at his feet, and listen.  

The dishes will get done, somehow, sometime.  The laundry will, too.  You'll manage to feed the family.  And the rest?  The Pinterest-worthy living room decor and the photo shoot matching outfits and the extracurriculars for the children and all the rest?  They're optional anyhow.

Take a few minutes at the start of your day - even if it's while spooning baby food into that sweet little mouth - to read (yes, even aloud!) some words of Jesus.

They are your true food.

They will nourish you for your tasks (and help you to discern which tasks to do, and which to let go) far better than facebook or shopping or even texting a friend.

Summer camp (or even VBS) for the children won't do it.  Moms' groups and swimming lessons and dance lessons and summer sports (all fine and dandy things) won't do it.  Hard as it is for me to admit this, even a vacation in the islands won't do it.  Nothing will nourish you, nothing will restore your spirit, like the minutes you spend sitting at Jesus' feet.

And, this:  it is okay to sometimes sit down and gaze at the distant trees, even when your work is not done.  Because let's face it, it's never going to be done, that work.  Never.  And you will wear yourself ragged and wretched trying to stay abreast of it all.  Just stop.  Let it go.  Sit down and watch your babies (however old they are) play.  Go outside and marvel (quietly, tiredly is okay) at something God has made.

Let it feed your spirit.

Choose the one thing, this summer, that is needful:  sit at Jesus' feet, and listen.

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[and if you like sentimental rhymes, this poem - which I eventually memorized from seeing it so often - was on my mother's fridge growing up, printed on the faded front of a card.]

Priority

Take time to smell the lilacs

And feel the warm bright sun,

Take time to look at rainbows;

Don't wait till work is done:

There'll always be a cobweb,

Some finger marks or dust,

Weeds to pull, a lawn to mow,

And something gathering dust.

We must remember lilacs

Bloom just once a year,

And you can see a rainbow

Only when it's here.

~ by Shirley Harvey

O Love that wilt not let me go ...

1. 
   
2. O Love that wilt not let me go,
   I rest my weary soul in thee;
   I give thee back the life I owe,
   That in thine ocean depths its flow
   May richer, fuller be.
3. O light that foll’west all my way,
   I yield my flick’ring torch to thee;
   My heart restores its borrowed ray,
   That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
   May brighter, fairer be.
4. O Joy that seekest me through pain,
   I cannot close my heart to thee;
   I trace the rainbow through the rain,
   And feel the promise is not vain,
   That morn shall tearless be.
5. O Cross that liftest up my head,
   I dare not ask to fly from thee;
   I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
   And from the ground there blossoms red
   Life that shall endless be.

George Mattheson, 1882

harvest

When we were younger, and my Farmer and I would garden together, he would laugh at my hearty hoeing, correctly predicting that I wouldn't last long at that rate.  I tried to pace myself, but "medium" is not one of my factory settings, and I'd soon tire, marveling (red-faced) at my Farmer's ability to keep going, and going, and going, the tortoise to my hare.

So it's really no surprise that after fifteen years and four children, I've grown weary.

"Let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season

we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."  Galatians 6:9

Back when facebook allotted a small box for a quotation next to my profile photo, I posted this verse, so that it would inspire me whenever I visited my own page (which was rarely, as it turned out, once I discovered the newsfeed).  Frankly, though, I grew weary not only of doing good, but of seeing the verse, for it seemed that "due season" would never come.

But at last, my friends, a harvest is in sight:

Yesterday morning, when they overheard me say I needed to bake & ice my Farmer's cake, all three daughters immediately piped up: "can I help?!"  And when the cake was cooled and the icing whipped smooth, and I still needed to cook the rest of supper, I asked Spice to ice the cake, and Sugar to decorate.  They smilingly consented.

When the cake was nearly done, and it was time to pick some corn & husk it, but I was still stirring the white sauce for the stroganoff, I asked Spice to go down to the garden for a dozen ears.  Nice begged to be allowed to pick some, too.  And when she came back with a sample ear for my inspection, and was told that it passed and she would be promoted to official corn-picker, she grinned with satisfaction and pride.

I've done a lot wrong in my life, made lots of mistakes, hurt people I loved, and lost sight of what's important.  I've missed a lot of lessons God wanted to teach me.  But yesterday as we prepared my Farmer's birthday feast, I realized - this I have done right:

I have (at least, when too overwhelmed & under-energized to do it all myself) allowed my children to solve their own problems, attempt things that might be too hard for them, try their hands at things I would have rather done myself.  And they have succeeded, beyond my wildest expectations (which were, after all, rather tame).

I have somehow managed to raise children who, despite my own failings in this area, are eager to do meaningful work, take pride in a job well-done, rise to meet the need (of which I'm sure I provide plenty) and git 'er done.  (Probably only my parents will understand the scope of this miracle!)

Most of this you will see I am not responsible for at all.  It's grace, and the outrageous gift of a spent body that positions me to receive these unexpected blessings.

"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however,

it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it."

Hebrews 12:11

I don't expect uninterrupted days of righteousness & peace from now until Heaven, but when moments of harvest shine through the rubble of weary despair, it seems worth noting, don't you think?