I returned from the IF:Lead conference last weekend, traveling in a van (aka, the fun bus) with six other women all the way to Dallas and back in a whirlwind four-day trip. The conference and the relationships built with these women I had the opportunity to spend so much time with left my heart undone and overflowing with just so much. I returned home Saturday in a similar way I remember returning from my first Rocky Mountain High in high school - challenged, on fire, and unsure of how to best acclimate back to my surroundings. Trying to jump back into life, recover from being gone, and catching up on work, all while desiring to find space to feel and grow and think about what God has placed in me has left me reeling a little this week. I keep longing for a space to process and focus on all that I absorbed before it flutters away in the busyness of this life.
Awhile back, I started reading the book, Rhythms of Rest, hoping to be inspired to find a way to create more opportunities for this kind of space in our current season. And a few weeks ago, we tried to fully rest a Sunday, declaring it our Sabbath. In a season of endless projects with the basement, activities with the kids, and busy work schedules for Beau and I, we both committed to set aside our Sunday and put nothing on the agenda. So Sunday rolls around and I practically jumped out of bed, ready to make some tea and read my Bible. About two minutes into my Sabbath, Cruz comes out of his room. As he went to grab the iPad out of the desk drawer and sit beside me, he instead noticed the early makings of a sunrise and asked me to come to the window to see. Instead of following my own plan, my own agenda of how I wanted my Sabbath to start, I followed his lead. We quietly put on our shoes and went for a walk in the dark just as the sun began to climb. It was to be the only cool part of another 90 degree September day, and the two of us enjoyed a quiet walk in the neighborhood before getting ready for church. I felt rested and at peace to be in God's beautiful creation with my boy.
The rest of my Sabbath didn't look how I intended it to be. In fact, my Sabbath involved more "loud" and "messy" and "unkempt" than many of my weekdays. But all day long I couldn't help but feel right where I was called to be. I lingered at the table at lunch and watched how cute Cruz and Mila looked slurping their soup from their little bowls. I listened as Mila proudly blew through her folded up piece of yellow paper and explained how it was the trumpet that Joshua's men blew as they marched around the walls of Jericho. I took time to invite them to help me bake a pie, build a Kiwi Crate, and fold some laundry. We went to the soccer field with Cruz and laughed hard as we chased each other up and down the field. And on the way home, as we listened to Mila's little voice explain to Cruz that his soccer strategy should involve waiting until a "squito" landed on a boy's leg and distracted him long enough for Cruz to steal the ball, I asked Beau if the kids were just being extra lovable today or if I was slow enough to pay attention.
His reply: "Both."
At If:Lead, Ann Voscamp talked about this tension between our expectations for our life and Jesus' call for our life. She held up this little tin bucket she keeps on her windowsill. She said we often live in a way where we are constantly wanting to fill our buckets. I tend to get caught up in my way, that I neglect to see a way to pour out my bucket for others. As my Sunday progressed to be a far cry from the Sunday I had in my head, I smiled to think of Jesus in the temple, pouring out his bucket to serve others on the Sabbath as the Pharisees stood on the sidelines and condemned him. And then I looked at my own feet to see a bucket too heavy to lift, filled with my own rules, agendas, and expectations.
I'm still hoping for a long morning to sit in a coffee shop with my journal, my Bible, and all my notes from IF:Lead, and hopeful for a few Sundays this fall and winter to retreat in our home and give our souls room to rest and breathe. But more than that, I'm hoping for a greater awareness in who I am and who God has called me to be. And to truly rest in that.
"Sabbath reminds us that we belong because we are already accepted. Rest requires that we be who we are and nothing else. A life built upon Sabbath is contented because in rhythms of rest we discover our time is full of the holiness of God."
More fall things...
Neighborhood nerf wars, parents vs. kids. These neighbor boys developed a fierce bond over the summer and we celebrated with pizza, an outdoor movie, and nerf darts all over our backyard.
Front porch hangs, homemade apple fritters with orange glaze, and a Saturday afternoon watching soccer in the rain.
The first of many pies.
Harvest festivals at the Arboretum.
This month's kiwi crate: a tie dyed backpack and rainbow pillow for Mila, and a marble pinball machine for Cruz.
Late night suppers and homework after soccer practice.
New and old ways of making music in this house.
September sunsets out the back window.
Project House Cozifying. I made this word up this week and believe it definitely has a place in the dictionary of all things fall.
Happy weekend! Hoping you find opportunities to rest your soul, find Jesus in the details, and pour out your bucket to wherever He might be asking you to be.
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