The Divine Face
I absolutely cannot believe I haven’t written. I have been in and out of scenes that I couldn’t help but note in detail. This past month has been one I’ve known I would share. God has repeatedly looked me straight in the eyes.
Titus is still completely clueless that he’s sick. He still hasn’t gained weight. We still know nothing, but we have clues now, and we’re following trails, and that’s as good as we can do. Who really knows how anything will go, right? In the day-to-dayness of it all, it’s clear that we’ve been given beautiful lives. Titus ruins everything we try to make serious. Not much stays sour around here. I have never heard anything so loud and disruptive as the puppy pile of four boys. They roar and piss and jab and laugh until they can’t breathe, and I can stand back from it once in a while and really see. They get a magazine in the mail addressed to The Haines Boys. I am the mother of The Haines Boys. That’s enough for me.
It’s the long run that tempts us to worry. The what-ifs are killer. We’re forced to live in the now, because any imagined future that is tinged with doubt wears a devil’s mask. Hope in the revelation of Jesus is the only future that faith imagines. I hope to see the face of God.
I love the word REVELATION. I want to break it down, revel in the mystery unfolding here and now. One day we’ll know fully, but this season of coming to know is a precious one even in the midst of brokenness. What’s funny is that for me, coming to know God seems to mean that I know less and less about things that used to spur me into argument. That God, three in One, loves me is something I do not question, not even a hair. His love unfurls the mystery even in the face of death, and the face of death stands at every corner. I ask you: what do you see when you experience the grief that comes through all these trials?
This Christmas has put an eagerness in our bones, an unknowing and a knowing at once. It’s the moan of “How Long?” and an exquisite song of praise.
I’m going to continue to process in quieter notebooks until this Holiday season is over. That way I’ll have fodder for consistent writing in the New Year. I’ll have organized some drawers, and I’ll have direction with a new publisher by then. 2014 will be the year I no longer consider myself a stay at home mom. I’ll be a writer by profession. I am saying this like it’s not a big deal to me, but I’ve only waited for it my entire life. When I was little I said I would grow up to be this. I’ll be snookered if I don’t get ready to lay it all out, because no matter how clear my dream has been, I still have no idea how to make it work. I need my ears open and my ego replaced by divinity.
There are things about my personality that I have a hard time showing here, so that tells me that I have a long way to go in my writing. The quiet notebook always shows me that there’s more. I can’t stay there long, though. I’m an introverted extrovert. I need people to feel like my diviner self, so in the meantime of this continued break, come and be with me in the weird internet way we do. I hope we can find ourselves there at the same time.
I hope that when you see my face, even in my utter goofiness, you see a glimpse of Jesus. I hope to look into your life and see a life of revelation.
It’s possible I come back for a little Haines Home Companion, but just in case I don’t, I need to tell you two seemingly surface things:
1.) Lisa Leonard is legit. I’ll remember some very important things from this season every time I unwrap the ornaments she made for my boys. Unwrapping ornaments is a happy walk on a timeline every single time. I suggest marking 2013 with these.
2.) I have a 40% off coupon code for you from DaySpring for some of these gorgeous stockings. They are very well made, linen, and hand-stamped by women being released from poverty in India. I love them, and guess what? I bought some extras so that one day my boys can bring home a wife or at least a new puppy. I’m not even joking. These stockings are from JOYN, and the folks who run JOYN are our dear friends. I don’t have the time now to explain how for real they are in regard to love and surrender. They are utmost examples of how to uphold dignity, so you better believe that I support them.
“you have been grieved by various trials so that the tested genuineness of your faith — more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire — may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:6b-7).