Once again, I sit here at my computer unable to tear myself away from the music that is playing over the speakers. Oh, where is my ipod??? I have mislaid it somewhere, and this is the only place where I can sit and listen to music. As hoarse as I am, recovering from some cold or another, I am singing my little Sumi-heart out here at the computer. Thankfully the boys are all in bed asleep.
Soooo, since I am sitting here, I might as well blog, right? Not that I feel like I have anything much to say. My Jenna-words dried up a while ago and I always feel like I am repeating something when I write about her these days. Is that how it is doomed to be, with no new memories to make and the mental wrestling match to come to terms with what happened over?
I miss her tonight. I miss her sweet little kisses that always came so readily when I hinted for them. I miss saying to her: “My muffin” and hearing her reply: “My mama”. She’s the only one that called me “mama” when the mood struck her. I think she heard it somewhere and fancied the sound of it. She called her daddy “dada” at times too, particularly after she saw a video clip of herself as a one year old waiting for her daddy at the front door and calling out: “dada”.
My oldest knows that he can melt my heart instantly when he calls me “mama” in the same tone Jenna used to use. It reminds me of a little sweetie pie who was so closely tuned in to her mommy’s heart like little girls often are, and who knew that she had me wrapped all around her little finger.
Makes me think of the God who is so huge yet so tuned in to his children and so in love with us that just one glance from our eyes can ravish his heart. (Song of Sol. 4:9)
My pastor mentioned something totally in passing last week that hit me like a bucket of refreshing water. To understand what I am (going to be) getting at, you have to first read my post the deep.
My pastor talked about the afflictions of Paul, and how Paul said in 2 Cor 11 that he had spent a night and a day in the deep.
I loved this. The day follows the night.
During the night season in the deep, you are crushed by the crashing waves (“all thy waves and billows have gone over me”), the agitated waters, the troubled and discomforting seas. But day comes, as it always must, and you suddenly find yourself in a place where there is an abundant water supply. The desert has yielded its rivers in your life, and where there used to be desolation you find an abundance of growth and blessing that you never thought would be possible.
This is the duality of the deep. Pain cuts deep, but it also breaks open a wellspring of life if we will invite Jesus into those deep recesses of our hearts to fill it, and eventually flow out to others from it.
May the daytime come soon.