Evolution of the Hug

In the beginning, I didn’t hug. I was well known in fact for my reluctance to hug. Not only didn’t I hug but the idea of talking to anyone about anything that meant anything was more than I could swallow. Keeping people at arm’s length by rejecting the hugs was just a way to outwardly show the inward refusal to allow anyone to come into my inner circle.

This was my deep well, my pit where I was safe. I could see glimpses from the top-rays of sunlight dancing just outside my line of sight, just outside my grasp. Oh, how I wanted to play in that light but it was safer here in my well.

These people though did not believe in not allowing hugs. They were strange this group of people. The first time I encountered them, they were delighted to see me. A big ole scruffy guy wrapped his arms around me in an embrace with no traces of anything other than love. It was a strange sensation to be hugged without any sexual connotation involved, strange to think that I could be touched for some other reason than to provide a service or sensation to someone else.

One hug didn’t break down my wall. I was a very good skeptic, well versed in the art of looking happy while screaming inside. Time and time again though, these people embraced me. Every time, I was sure it would be the time when something wrong would happen but every time it was an embrace of love. Slowly, I found myself looking forward to those hugs. Then, I became one of the huggers.

See, in my troubled past, the enemy had perverted my love language. I feel compelled to touch people to show care and concern and I desperately need to feel the touch of others. The enemy knew this and sent people who would do terrible things. These terrible things led to me shutting down that love language. But our God is the God of restoration. He takes the broken things and makes them beautiful.

“He will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy.” (Job 8:21)  Thirty years of pit dwelling was reversed through the love of my Father and His followers.  Each one who embraced me without thinking of what they would gain lifted me a little higher out of that pit. Each kind smile gave me courage. Each sweet touch restored my body. As my body was restored, I started reaching out and holding others.

The enemy has come to steal and destroy. He will destroy anything he thinks will knock the believer down and render her unable to fight. Our Father though is greater than the enemy. Our Jesus came that we might have life and have it more abundantly. Through Him we are restored and in restoration we become even more beautiful than we could have been before we were hurt. This is our story, our song. This is why we can sing “It is well with my soul.”

In All Things

Every evening lately, my dad, my Zoe, and I have been walking the prayer walk. It’s a quiet time of evening followed by far ranging discussions. My mom joins our post walk talks most nights and last night was no different.

As tends to happen in conversations, we drifted on to sleep. My dad loves to sleep. My mom would love to sleep but it has been a little difficult for her to catch lately. I chimed in that I had been waking up during the night. Then Zoe says, “Don’t you pray at night?”

“Of course” I haughtily reply. I’ve been praying so long before falling asleep that it seems a little silly for an 8 year old to be accusing me of not. Each night my final thoughts are focused on the magnificence of our Lord, imaginings of Him welcoming me home, and great wrestling with puzzling concepts.  Far ranging theological ponderings dance in my mind sometimes keeping me from sleep just so I can taste the sweetness of another brilliant bit of God’s glory.

She tilts her head and looks at me like I have interrupted something important she was going to say. I’m tempted to fire off another witty comment but instead I listen.

“I pray every night that I sleep until it’s time to wake up and that I have good dreams.”

The Word says that in all things, with prayers and supplications, we are to make our needs known to the Lord, all things, even those things like a full night’s sleep.  The Lord is good and merciful and He knows we need to sleep. He also knows that we need reminders to rely on Him.

I find myself tempted to think that because I’m doing this or not doing something else that I have attained something, like leveling up in a game. The truth is that my 8 year old who fully relies on the Lord to help her sleep all night is showing an amazing degree of faith. The little boy who gave up his fish demonstrated such a faith. Faith isn’t just about the “big” things. It doesn’t just come into play when faced with major life choices or chances to overcome giants. Faith, granted to us by our Father, has to be our foundation-what wakes us up and lays us down.  The knowledge that the Father loves us and is working to benefit us has to be the driving force in our lives.

So, last night as I drifted off to sleep, I thought of my Zoe. I asked my Savior to watch over her. Then, I asked Him to forgive my arrogance. I asked forgiveness for thinking anything was beneath His ability to care about, forgiveness for thinking my prayers written in big words and complex sentences were more valuable than the words of a child. Wrapped in the joy of my Lord, I slept the whole night and had good dreams.

No One

Anxiety rises up like bile in the back of my throat. It is going to be one of those nights again; one of those nights when the fears threaten to overtake sleep.  Haven’t had many of those nights lately. They seemed to come frequently in my other life-you know, the life where I was a very important person.

It sounds funny-humiliating in its vanity-to think how important I thought I was. People depended on me every day. They were subject to my whims. My idiosyncrasies could change a pleasant day into one where things were not so pleasant. People’s jobs depended on how I felt about them. Yeah, me?!?

Time is different now. I have absolutely no influence on peoples’ jobs. There are only a handful of people who are impacted by my idiosyncrasies which are infinitely more manageable these days. I have gone from being a very important person to being …no one.

Except I’m not. Now, more than ever, I feel the burden of living differently. While my job does not impact giant numbers of people, it has great impact. As I fade further into the background, I am more and more able to reflect something so much greater than myself. The funniest part is that as much as I feel like I’m disappearing into something bigger than myself, I find that I am more me than I have ever been.  This dichotomy of Christianity keeps me busy for hours. I am the most important person in the whole universe to God and He doesn’t need me at all. I am all important and utterly unimportant. It is only through my relationship with Jesus that I become someone worth knowing. My relationship with Jesus has shown me that God, the Creator of the Universe, adores me. Because I am so loved, I am able to reach out to others and help them understand that they are the most important person in the universe.

The anxiety that threatens to rise in the back of my throat dissolves into shouts of exaltation.  Because He lives, I can face tomorrow. Because He lives, all fear is gone. He will finish what He has started in me and He will give me a new heart.  And I will fade into the background. I will become one of the great cloud of witnesses-nameless but beloved beyond measure-celebrating each lost sheep’s return and each saint’s victory. Living to serve because of His great love. Freely bound to my savior.

Office Hours

Moved into my home office this morning and posted office hours outside my door.  Hard to believe this is where we are now.

A few months ago, I stayed awake long into the night trying to fix problems and solve puzzles.  I spent hours trying to make impossible things happen. Now, I spend hours talking to God. There is nothing impossible in that.

It is quiet in this new place. I can hear the fan spinning. The birds have finally quieted down from their morning worship extravaganza. It is quiet here. It is quiet and I can feel the focus shifting.

The focus is slipping off of me and it is a little strange to stand here in the dark as just someone.  The cat is unimpressed. I can’t help her get a job or gain recognition. I do have the power to feed her but she knows that if I chose not to feed her, there are several others who can handle it. 

My jobs today are not earth moving. My list is full of things like find my oldest daughter’s graduation plan and clean the bathroom. There are a few things I can do for my husband. And, of course, I’m writing.  These are all good things, not exciting things but good things.

As I watch these other doors closing, I try to be thankful for this respite. I spent so many years hurrying to get everything done and carrying such heavy burdens. Now, there are no burdens. I can focus on my God and my family.

In time, something else will come to take my focus and shift it. In time, I will apply these lessons I’m learning. In this time, though, I will enjoy the stillness. I will spend the time helping where I can. I will study and learn and support. I will trust.