March Twenty Sixteen

A while back,  Jason and I watched the movie called Boyhood, a story of growing up as seen through the eyes of a boy name Mason. What was cool about it was that it was filmed with the same cast over a period of 12 years so we literally got to watch Mason grow up over time, but it was at times a very difficult movie to watch because his family was full of incredible brokenness. (We certainly don't need to watch a movie for this reality to set in-- the headlines these days can be numbing and brokenness is all around us.)  So this letter that I ran across from Maggie Paulus spoke to me as I was reflecting on the film and thinking in particular about raising Anna and Taylor: 

 "Dear Children,

This momma of yours sometimes lies awake at night worrying about the world and about you and how you’ll grow up here.

There are these moments when I’ve read the latest headline on the news that I want to lock the doors and all the evil out and try my best to protect you from everything wicked and wild.

I wish you could only know about blazing sunsets and fishing ponds and old barns down dirt roads and kitties and good people that call you friends and a society that’s safe to live in.

But things are broken here, and there’s some things I need to tell you to keep you soul-safe.

I want the light in your heart to stay on when the world around you gets dark.

There’s a God who is good, who does love you and who’s got this whole world in His hands. But there will be days when it won’t feel that way. You’ll look around and sit numb from the pointlessness of it all and grasp for answers, knowing full well sometimes there are things that happen here you will not understand.

Keep praying to the God I’ve told you about. Because when we pray, we reach out and grab hold of Someone real but who can’t be seen.

There will be aching nights when you will struggle along, feeling around in the dark, searching for some notion of grace in this fallen world.

And I want you to hear me—God is here. Right here. And when you run hard after Him, determined to find Him with a little speck of faith, He will show up. Every once in a while you’ll be able to feel Him— the warmth of His light-bearing face.

I know, my loves, you’ll have your doubts.

The voices around you and sometimes in you will try to reason God away.

Clouds of unbelief will hide from you what’s there. Cynicism will come looking for you, to hunt you down.

You’ll have to do war, my loves. You’ll need to turn around and look at that sneering unbelief in the face and scream the truth you’ve got tucked down deep in your heart. You’ll have to kick doubt to the curb, babes, or it will cling to you.

Remember it’s sin, not God, that broke this whole place.

The ground groans. Stars catapult in revolt and trees travail like a woman in labor pain, bent over and gasping for her next breath. Creation reels for all that’s been lost and waits with this eager longing to be set free and restored to her rhythm of rest once again (Rom. 8:19–24). 

You’ll wonder why you’re here.

Just keep running to your Maker and He’ll whisper it to you again, because it bears repeating. That you are light and couriers of His love, and this is how He chooses to help the world—through your actual hands.

Your very feet.

 He’ll shine out through your eyes and His joy will show up in your cheeks and in your smile. You, His kingdom children, will demonstrate to the world a different way.

And when you’re afraid about your life, remember God knows the number of your days (Ps. 139:16). He’s with you in every single one of them.

Don’t forget, you must never forget, there is a forever after this. One day light will split through all these cracks and God’s righteous kingdom will reign. Forever.

There will be no more sickness or dying, and all that’s sad will come to an end. You’ll hear it then—how the mountains will shout for the everlasting joy being born, the thorns in the thickets will no longer grow, and all the trees in the field will clap their hands (Isa. 55:12–13).

So long as I’ve got this breath in my lungs, I’ll remind you of these things.

And I’ll help you see that though the world is broken, still it’s good.

There’s beauty here and God-glory all around. I’ll take you by the hand and we’ll go hunting. We won’t stop looking until we find Him here. Together we’ll trace the outlines of His ways.

As long as you’re here with me, I’ll keep getting up and stumbling through the dark to check on you while you’re fast asleep.

And even when you’re grown and gone, I’ll still carry you around in my heart and chase you with my prayers.

You’ll always have your momma’s prayers, my loves.

Today, I’m praying for your peace."