Thursday, March 28, 2013

before I forget



I am home. Standing before the mirror washing off traces of what is left of my makeup, I stop a minute and look into my eyes. Eyes tonight that have seen too much of the "ugly" side of life. Eyes that will soon close in needed prayer and rest.

Chuck and I spent the past five hours in the presence of three transitional homeless families. We read to and played with precious lively children. I got to hold a sweet baby boy while bottle feeding. We shared our supper with them. And while crunching on tacos, we heard their stories.

Three moms who live in a world vastly unlike mine. A world that I can't fix. The best we could do was what we did.

Mostly listen.

Offer a few affirmations of how far they have come this past year, or how hard they are trying in their parenting class, or "good job, you made it 20 months drug free!"

Before we slipped out the door, I hugged them and in a quiet spirit of love, I shared with them about Someone who loves them greater and cares about them. Briefly I shared that though my struggles look different than theirs, I still need hope and I find it in Jesus. 

"Can I sit next to you?" 

This from a little girl with dark eyes and 25 colorful barrettes bouncing around her head. She will never know how her one small question stirs my heart, twirls around in my mind and settles into my soul. 

Yes.

There is room for you. 

Because Jesus gave me a seat at the table, I am compelled to invite others to join me. 

And the point of Easter? Oh wow oh wow oh wow!

His rising grants the power to change me. Saved and delivered from my sin, by His grace! 

Hope for broken people, people like me, and three moms on the other side of the world. 

Can I hear a Hallelujah?

All together now, "Hallelujah! He is risen indeed."

Easter blessings,
margi

PS - Stay posted. There are some changes coming to my blog. I'm trying to contain my excitement :) I can't wait to share it with you but first I have to clean out our screened porch. If I don't show up for a couple weeks, I may be buried either under the piles of junk, or piles of snow!  

monkjo@live.com  Always happy to respond to comments/questions.