I Can't Help the Butterfly

It was the third time she told me she was thinking of coming home.  It was not as she expected; college life on an athletic scholarship was not the dream she envisioned.

Oh, she’s plenty tough and can hang with the best:  maxing out in the weight room, two-a-days, lack of sleep, and cramming for exams in the super fast-forward summer school classes.

But every team she had every played on came with it’s share of friends.  Not this one.  These were all the athletes who had the drive and ambition, stamina and pride to take them this far.  These were the athletes who didn’t need anyone else.

My girl, it turns out, is not the cookie cutter athlete.  Nope, God cut her from a different mold completely.

Yes, she is driven and has ambition and stamina.  And this girl wants to win more than most.  She can look at a scoreboard and be at the losing side of game point and down by ten.  And still, she will give it her all; never say die.  That’s my girl.

But this girl also loves “team.”  She develops those deep, true, loyal sister-like frienships that take time.  Time, sadly, had not been built yet.  But when you’re 18, instant is an expectation.

So when I hear her voice tell me she’s ready to set down the ball, she sounds like a stranger.  Something inside of me is twisting and turning and I can’t let her give up so quickly; I know she’s in there somewhere if we just wait a little bit longer.

“Hang in there, Sweet Girl,” I beg her, “It will get better.  Just wait until the games start and you’ll see.”  When she gets into a real competition, I believe my girl will come back.

But nothing I say can convince her because these words don’t fit into her reality.

I am constant.  I am consistent.  I think of every positive thing I can say and text morning, afternoon and night.  It has been weeks, and still I press on.

I send her a verse of the day or a song of the day; often with no reply.

And God tells me, “My word will not return void.  Press on, Mom, she needs you.”

(from Isaiah 55:11)

This time I sense it; she needs a dose of “my” reality.

So I tell her…

“If you were to walk in the door right now, be prepared to live here at home.  Be prepared to pay for gas and insurance, clothes, entertainment…  Basically anything except tuition from this point forward, because that is all your dad and I are prepared to provide should you give up the commitment that you have made.”

Silence.

And then the conversation takes a turn for the worse.  My emotions get the better of me.  Clearly, Dad should have handled this one.  He is much calmer and factual about these matters.

When the call ends, I fear I won’t hear from her for a few days.  But I hold my ground.

The next morning at the gym, I am rewinding the conversation in my mind.  The gym is my place to really think; endorphins are my brain food.  I have been on the stationary bike for longer than I know.  I am sweatier that I care to admit, but am deep in thought.

Instead of plugging my headphones into the TV attached to the bike, I decide to close my eyes and listen to a playlist on my ipod.  The next song begins:

Beautiful Things by Gungor.

(http://www.metrolyrics.com/beautiful-things-lyrics-gungor.html)

It is a song that I have listened to many times before today.  I adore this song and I begin to worship.

Suddenly, I am overcome with an image and know that God is present.  As the image of a cocoon unfolds in my mind, the beautiful butterfly struggles and fights.  Finally it works it’s way free, and is in flight; I weep.

My Sweet Girl!

Thank you, Lord, I am overcome.

Self consciously, I pray that no one will be able to tell the many tears that pour down my face from the sweat that I cannot stop.  But certainly they must see my shoulders slightly heave, now and again, and my mouth curl downward, as I cannot contain myself.

This struggle is hers and she must wrestle with it.  If, like the story goes, of the man who opens the cocoon early to ease the butterfly's struggle, I help her out of this “mess” and make her life easier, my Sweet Girl will also never take flight.

And so I continue to worship and pray.

I have said it before.  I would almost rather she be that crying infant once more; at least I knew how to hold her tight and comfort her in my arms.  Loving her at a distance and watching the struggle is a much harder way to “mother”.

I cannot imagine if she were to suffer to the point of ridicule, torture and execution on a cross… for a crime she did not commit.  Thank You, Father.  You watched that from a distance.

Thank You, Lord, for the gift of being her mother.

Even at this distance, I am content.

Leaning In

One of my sweetest memories is sitting in church with my girls when they were younger.  Their friends would often bring colors and paper for drawing, but I preferred not.

Often my girls would join in the drawing when the sermon began, but that didn’t entertain for long and soon, I would find them slowly moving in closer; one girl on each side, nearer.  Sometimes one might lay her head on my shoulder and lean in with her hand wrapped around the inside of my upper arm, squeezing it a bit like a hug.  Other times, she might lift my arm to skooch underneath it and get closer to lean into my side, and under my wing.

It was never bothersome or distracting.  I knew even then, that one day, I would miss those sweet moments of closeness.

Being a parent often brings me closer to God; just contemplating how He, as a Father, sees us as and our relationships as children and family.

Recently I was seeking to encourage my daughter in some choices she was struggling to make.  She so wanted her life to follow a direction that would truly be an uphill climb. 

As she strained, spun and scrambled to make it all work her way, she found herself frustrated and discouraged.  So in a brief text, I sent her the following verse:

Proverbs 3:5-6

Lean on, trust in, and be confident in the Lord with all your heart and mind and do not rely on your own insight or understanding.

In all your ways know, recognize, and acknowledge Him, and He will direct and make straight and plain your paths.

As the bar scrolled across my phone, sending the words across the many miles that separate us, I was brought close to the memory of her leaning near to me on that church pew just 10 or 12 years ago.

Oh how dearly God must love us.  How His heart must ache for us to lean on Him; to rest our head on His shoulder and wrap our hand around His upper arm.  Or if we could be so bold as to skooch a little closer and lift His arm for a safer place, nearer to Himself. 

I close my eyes and picture the pew; I am sitting in a quiet chapel.  I take a deep breath; hold it for a moment.  As the tears roll down my cheeks I let go with a sigh.  I relax my muscles a bit more, and I lean into Him.  It is safe here.  I can let go of my thoughts; those worries and plans that I try so hard to wiggle and shift into this puzzle I call “my” life.  The picture I’ve held so firm in my mind begins to blur as He gently hugs His arm a bit more around my shoulder.

“You ready?” He whispers softly. 

I know He is waiting for me to look up; to look at and acknowledge Him.

Slowly I begin to lift my head and as my eyes move across His tranquil expression, our eyes meet.  They are brilliant; they see me.

“I know the plans that I have for you, Lisa.  They are wonderful and hopeful.  I will not let you down.  But you need to trust in me even though you don’t understand.”

"But this is so hard, Lord," I creak.  I am undone.  While I want so much to relax my full weight into Him, there is still so much of me that wants 'my way' to work out.  The dream I've got dreamed up looks so nice from where I sit.

"I have a better plan," He replies without a moments hesitation.

I've been here before; this where grasping for something only leaves you with aching arms and empty hands.  I take one more deep breath, let it out, and as I relax all of me and lean further still, I open my hands and let go.

As I bow my head in prayer to Him, I say,

“You are my hiding place; you preserve me from trouble.

You will surround me with songs of deliverance.”

Psalm 32:7

And for a moment, before I open my eyes…  I believe I hear the soft voices of angels singing over me.

It is not possible for us to “plan” our life; nor would I want to.

I have lived long enough to find that I cannot do it nearly as well as God!

He thinks of everything, knows everyone and has unlimited resources.

Amen!

Oh-Fence Around my Heart!

My daughter had gone from being powerful to pitiful in a matter of weeks.

There were times I would half cringe, half cheer inside when she got mad during a game.  Once, I even saw her knock a girl clean off her feet by hammering the ball right at her chest.  Oh, it might look to some like it just “happened”, but I know that ball was aimed.  That was before.

You see, my girl actually played tougher and better when she got mad.  It might be that a few bad calls came from a ref during the volleyball game, or the coach of the other team might strategically try to “wear her out” when she was back row, so she couldn’t hit hard when she rotated to the front row, but my girl didn’t give in.  Players across the net who picked on her during a game just fueled her fire.

And now, that flame is barely an ember.  Extinguished by distance, new routines and strangers.  Doused by harsh words and ugly looks from girls who have chosen not to see the inner beauty of my dear child.

What hurts my daughter has hurt me as well.  These young “ladies,” many of whom I have yet to meet, have already hardened my heart.

Oh-fence around my heart, I hold you close to shield myself from a deeper hurt; your barbs are sharp and hold me prisoner.

Oh-fence around my heart, you block the wind of encouragement that fans my flame.

Oh-fence around my heart, I can’t get out; you keep me from growing and seeing God’s purpose and plan.

Sadly, we live in a world where people feel free to speak whatever is on their mind and heart.  Young “ladies” who do not even know us can tear us down with their opinions and make us feel less than God’s best.

And we take offense.

Sometimes, we give offense.  I have; spoken a word when it was uncalled for.  Yes.  I have given offense.

The root of that word, offense, comes from the word for scandal or “skandalon” which is a trap or snare laid for the enemy.

Interesting how satan can use other people’s sin of speaking their mind to lay a trap for us.  And we step right in. 

When we take the bait, when we get offended, satan wins.  He lied to us and made us feel bad about ourselves.  We got offended, mad and then get to sin more by having a pity party. 

1 Peter 5:8 says:

Be balanced and cautious at all times, for the enemy of yours (the devil) roams around like a lion roaring, seeking someone to seize upon and devour.

And John 8:44 says of the devil:

…He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is not truth in him.  When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.

And yet, we believe what is said to us; whether whispered in our ears, or spoken by another person.  They are lies, not the truth of God.

But I am relieved when I remember that,

(even though)…the thief comes only to steal, kill and destroy, Jesus came that we may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance, to the full, until it overflows.

John 10:10

And that God has a purpose and a plan for my life for prosperity and peace and not for evil, to give us hope in our final outcome.  (Jeremiah 29:11)

But in order to have that life, that joy and peace that God promises and died for us to have, we need to actively change the reflections of our heart and mind.

Oh-fence around my heart, I swing wide your gate to make a path for me to step boldly forward; your rusty hinges might creak, but they no longer contain me.

Oh-fence around my heart, I take a deep breath; my flames rise heavenward.

Oh-fence around my heart, I free you from my wounds; in your place, I plant flowers of fragrant grace.

Don’t take the bait of offense.  Don’t let it wrap around your heart and strangle your dreams or put out your fire.

I am praying that the Lord will ignite my daughter’s once more.  For I feel that she has a great purpose!

I Corinthians 16:9

For a wide door of opportunity for effective service has opened (great and promising) and with it, many adversaries (opponents)