I have loved you

It’s a quiet Friday night at our house.

The young people are gone to be with friends or watch cousins performing in a Mary Poppins musical.

Dan-the-man is in Wisconsin with his family for a few days, helping his parents with fun things like retirement plans.

Those of us left here played a round of Take One and a round of Dutch Blitz and now I’m letting them have some computer time.

I should be addressing envelopes for Christmas letters.  Or sewing trim on a white dress for a Christmas angel.  Or cleaning.  I should always be cleaning.

The children remembered last night, the 3rd night of Dan’s five nights away, that DAD lets them sleep with him when I’m gone.  I didn’t tell them (or did I?) that I was kind of enjoying my quiet moments and didn’t really want bedfellows.   {Now this sounds like I don’t like sleeping with Dan and don’t miss him. I DO (extremely much) and I DO!! But there’s a bit of uncanny luxury in a bed all to myself and the freedom to read and eat dill and sea salt Triscuits  (or roasted tomato and olive oil Triscuits) with swiss cheese at 11:00 p.m. if I feel like it.}

But. DAD lets them.  So Andre happily climbed in with me and the freedom is over because Liesl and Natalia need a turn too. (By the way, both of those Triscuit flavors are worth trying.)

The younger children were all excited the other night after we decorated a bit for Christmas.  They were planning dreamily about turning off all the lights and just having candles and turning on the Christmas music and dancing to it.  So they did.  They each took a battery candle and began.  It wasn’t more than 3 minutes into O Come All Ye Faithful when a horrible rumpus broke loose and everyone was fighting and not dancing right and hurting their legs and singing too loud and  blaming everyone else.  The candles were put back on the mantel.  I am grateful that “our lowly nature He hath not abhorred” because in that moment I saw it in full force and wondered how God can bear putting up with the racket of humanity.

My facebook friend Dinah shared this photo the other day and something about it, something about it not being the typical sleeping Jesus with Mary sitting serenely nearby, that feeling I know so well of a sweet baby mouth at my shoulder…

12294724_666011018147_5817232164191957266_n[1]

(It is painted by Liz Lemon Swindle and I hope it’s not against the law to share it here? I just looked up more of her work and oh my word. Here’s another one, likely a more realistic depiction of the wisemen bringing their gifts to Jesus than we normally see.)

kb-Swindle-Liz-The-Holy-Men[1]

I guess the reason He doesn’t abhor our lowly nature is because He had one too.  Well, I guess that could be argued, but you know what I mean.

I am still in hiding from politics.  Oh, I read THE NEWS. Somehow the tension between staying informed so I’m not an ignorant, naïve Mennonite, so I can pray and hopefully DO something when I/we need to–the tension between that and just having peace in my soul and hope in my heart and not letting all the fear and prejudice and militancy and hate ebb into my soul–that tension almost breaks me.  I don’t enter political discussions because this is what I see from the outcries on social media:  “A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.”

But I’ve got to watch out.  Because my blood boils over certain people and their views and I forget that God loves them.  I’ve always struggled with feeling God loves me, I’m afraid He’s kind of busy for me and my stuff.

Just today, I was reading Biblical promises (inspired by you, Judith) and one of them in Jeremiah 31:3 says, “I have loved you with an everlasting love, with lovingkindness I have drawn you.”

And on the way into town, I was crying a little bit and asking God to show me that it was true, and then I thought about everything I read and see each day and I thought of Him saying,

“I have loved Barack Obama. I have loved Donald Trump. I have loved Mr. Putin. I have loved Rachel Notley. (She’s the premier of Alberta, the Bill 6 lady, the object of hate for many Alberta farmers, with recent threats to her life on social media.)  I have loved Justin Trudeau.  I have loved al-Adnani.(America’s most wanted person, the man behind the horror of recent terrorism in Paris and California) I have loved Mr. Bush and Jennifer Lopez and Prince William and Bill Gates.”

And he loves me, indecisive and worried about what everyone thinks of me, struggling daily with patience and discipline and negativity.

He loves you too.

 

 

 

Advertisements

7 thoughts on “I have loved you

  1. Thank you. Thank you. And thank you. I am unutterably weary of the political fussing and fuming and this is the reminder I need that I have another citizenship.

    PS, the paintings! Amazing, aren’t they?? My baby sits on my shoulder just like that right now.

  2. I love this post. The bed thing, Yes!!! I hear the same from my children when Paul is gone, but I’m not as kind as you…I tell them they may sleep on my floor, but not in my bed. 🙁
    And the dancing turning into fighting. Yep, here too. And I have the same sort of wonderings. I can only plead for a tiny bit of Gods grace to show to my children.
    Love when you blog. Your posts resonate with me.

  3. This was so refreshing, Luci. I’m meaner than you, however. When Leon’s gone, I rarely let the kids sleep with me. I say that’s a special treat for Dad. He usually builds a big tent in the living room and they all sleep together.
    Merry Christmas to you and yours.

  4. This post made me laugh. The dance of “humanity”. And your take on politics is wonderful. Not very popular though, I guess you know that.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s