I’m exhausted, but so happy.




Quarantine has kept me in vacation mode, one too many months. From March to September, it’ll have been 6 months without children in my life.

The last couple months at home… I’m never hungry and I’m never tired. Yet somehow, I’m always hungry and I’m always tired. There’s days I forget to eat till 4pm, since I’m just not hungry. There’s days I can’t sleep till 4am, since I’m just not tired. I have no opportunity to use up the energy in my body.

The last two days, I’ve been working. And tonight, I found myself hungry and tired.
Exhausted, but so happy.

I was given the opportunity to do a two day gig, at the Montessori training institute I took the course from almost a decade ago! My role was simple, I played the role of a child, in over 125 mini video lessons. As I ‘learned’ as a child, one activity after the next. I learned my phonetic sounds, and how to understand verbs “action words”, and I walked fancily (oh! and adverbs!) around the classroom! I learned my colours, and I learned ‘sharing’, you probably call it division! I learned to write in cursive, and the concept that “0, truly, means nothing!” I learned to build words, short phonetic, long phonetic, and even words with digraphs! I learned my triangles, and how to find right angles. I learned to read sentences, silently, “with my eyes” and then to act them out. I learned length and breadth and height. I learned to play bank! I even learned that ‘taxes’ is a word I’ll understand when I’m older. I learned to tuck in my chair, every, single, time.

Doesn’t sound difficult to be a child, does it? I have endless energy it seems! The past two days as I acted out ‘the child’ in over 125 lessons… I must have easily done 200 squats… mm.. no maybe 300. I got up and down of the floor, more times then I can count!

Today, I took a shower, and lay in bed, and realized, every part of my body ached. Especially my back and my legs. I realized I was exhausted, and I smiled thinking of all those squats, and this incredibly all too familiar feeling. As I remembered back to the ‘good old days’ when I WORKED with children and felt almost this exhausted every day.

You see, most people know me as a bundle of energy. My friends, the folks at church, my children and colleagues at work.  … Most people, don’t know, that every day, after I come home from work, I have a truly sacred ritual. I take a shower, and then lay on my bed till the exhaustion finally drains from my bones. Till my muscles relax and the pain in my back is relieved from another day of work. And only then, do I get up and go about the rest of the evening. If, I get up!

I have a very minimal amount of scoliosis in my back. Since it’s so slight, it wouldn’t have made any difference in my life, if it wasn’t for the fact that I also have an incredibly petite frame and that I work with kids! Ya’ll will never understand the exhaustion and energy needed to work with kids, unless you have a herd of your own hanging off of you!  

Today, as I acted out ‘the child’ … I remembered child after child from my classroom, and took inspiration from their many antics! Reminiscing on each memory. 

Today, I am exceedingly happy to be exhausted. Happy to feel hunger and thirst. Happy to feel tired. Happy to have exhaustion from work!

It’s hard to explain!

But I do know, I’ll be going back to work in September. And I do know, my sacred daily ritual will soon start up again! As I handle the exhaustion/pain daily. 

But now, I will be grateful in it. And I will be happy. I will be grateful for work. For the laughter and joy I experience with children each day. I will be grateful for the purpose and meaning that touching the lives of children brings. I will be grateful.

I am grateful. I am happy. And Blessed, beyond measure. 


Better is One Day in Your Courts

Better is one day in your courts
Better is one day in your house
Better is one day in your courts
Than thousands elsewhere

Catchy song … Remember it? 

When I first heard this song. I would belt it. Riding my bike! To the air… to the blue skies above. To the Spirit of God joyously bounding along with me, as I imagined Him, as I pedaled my bike fast as I could. That season of my life I was not allowed to go to church. So “church” happened for me on that bike. 

It was my anthem. Better is ONE day in your courts, better is ONE day in your house… than thousands elsewhere. At that time, how I looked forward to the day I could go to church Sunday morning. Somehow I naively believed and trusted, that when I got to church, I would experience what this song is all about.

Somehow, I thought, better is one day at church than a thousand elsewhere.
My well meaning friends, tried to tell me otherwise. They tried. They really tried.
But I had this boundless energy, and joy, of coming to know the love of Christ, that was not about to be quenched.

And I continued to hope, that when I got to church, it would be better one day in those courts than a thousand elsewhere. 

You see… my concept of  “courts” came from the compound in Karachi, Pakistan that my aunt lived in. Her concrete building along with two others, one on each side, forming the shape of a U, were surrounded by a concrete wall with an iron gate in the front. Between the three buildings was a concrete courtyard, it served as a parking lot and the place where children could play safely within the four walls and iron gate. That courtyard, was the one place I felt safe in Pakistan. It kept me safe from the horrors of poverty my childhood mind was unable to comprehend that existed just down a couple lanes.

Of course, there was also a gatekeeper. He was often sleeping in the heat of the day. But it still felt safe. Safe enough for the gatekeeper to take a nap. 

Maybe I thought, that church, would be like that. The safe place from all the trouble in this world. How wrong I was.

When I first began going to my “old-people” church, as I lovingly call it, Sunday mornings, I would come bounding into church. Skipping. Shy of running. I’d sing. Loudly. Down the hall as I came into the church from the back parking lot. Little old ladies, would stop me to tell me how happy they were to hear me sing. They hadn’t seen energy like that in a while!

It took me 7 years, to finally be able to go to church Sunday mornings. And I Was Excited! Better is One day in His courts!  

But soon. Oh so soon. I learned that church, is full, of broken, hurting people. Broken, hurting people, who in their brokenness can hurt each other. “It’s the messiness of community” one friend told me. As Timothy Keller quotes, “The church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints”. And soon after, I learned, that is what church is about. As I remembered, again and again, I too am a sinner. I soon realized I contributed to the brokeness, and that I can contribute to the healing.

But what happened to Better is One Day in Your Courts!? Better is One Day in Your House!?   That anthem that continues to ring true in my heart. 

I have come to realize, that on that bike, as I looked forward to the future day when I could go to church, on that bike, I was already in His courts, already in His house. Already a part of His kingdom. Already experiencing, Better is One Day in His courts. Already, experiencing His love.

God’s kingdom is not contained within four walls. Wherever He is, wherever we His children are, on this earth: There His kingdom is also. And these courts are so much greater and so much wider, safer, and so much more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. And it is Better, One Day, in His kingdom, TODAY, saved. Than it is unsaved. Better is One Day, knowing the hope of the gospel, than a thousand without. Better is One Day, knowing the God of the universe truly hears my  prayer, than a thousand without. Better is One Day knowing that He. God Almighty! cares for me, than a thousand without. Better is One Day knowing His love, than a thousand without.

How lovely is your dwelling place,
Lord Almighty!

My soul yearns, even faints,
for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God. 
– Psalm 84: 1-2
If you know Him, live in the joy of knowing you are LOVED by the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords. Live in the joy of knowing that God Almighty the creator of heaven and earth loves YOU. For you are His precious creation, his child.
Think of a Father who throws his precious toddler in the air and catches him again and again and again. Both lad and Dad laugh with joy of the safety and trust of that relationship. That the lad can be thrown and caught again and again and keep laughing. Live in that Joy. Live in that trust. Live as His child.

Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere   – Psalm 84:10
When quarantine is over, and we can return to the four walls of our churches again, I pray we enter with thanksgiving and praise. In fact, I pray, there might even be a skip in our step, just shy of running.

Psalm 100

A psalm. For giving grateful praise.

Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.

2 Worship the Lord with gladness;
    come before him with joyful songs.

Know that the Lord is God.

    It is he who made us, and we are his;
    we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving

    and his courts with praise;
    give thanks to him and praise his name.

For the Lord is good and his love endures forever;

    his faithfulness continues through all generations.

Getting Presents!!!

Two weeks ago, my mom sat down in circle time to teach the children about Christmas. We already taught the children about Hanukkah and Kwanza, and it was time to teach a little bit about Christmas as we teach about every holiday/religion represented in our school.

My mom began by telling the children, “Christmas is a special day that Christians celebrate. On Christmas Eve, Christians go to church to pray. Who goes to church on Christmas eve?” Some children raised their hands, while the rest looked completely confused. Then my mom continued, “Now I know, many of you are not Christian, but you still like to celebrate Christmas by putting up a Christmas tree. Who puts up a Christmas Tree in their home?” Almost every child’s hand went up then!

Mom continued, “What’s your favourite part about Christmas?”

The first child, replied, “Making snowmen with daddy and mommy!”

The next child said, “Getting Presents!”

The next child said, “Getting Presents!”

The next child said, “Getting Presents!”

At which point, my mother was completely flabbergasted and threw up her hands in the air and said, “Christmas is not just about getting presents! What is Christmas really about?”    

I wasn’t sure what would come next.
Being a secular childcare, being mindful of children having different belief systems, how do you share what Christmas is REALLY about?

Then one five year old, put up her hand, and simply said “It’s about the love.”

I was stunned. Yes. Exactly. That’s exactly what Christmas is about.

I will expand on that… but first let me finish this story…

Mom exclaimed, “YES! It’s about the love! And when we give presents, it’s about the love! Christmas is not just about getting, it’s about giving!” Then mom decided, “we’re going to have a Food Drive, to give love,” and went on to explain the details to the children. 

“It’s about the love” …from the mouth of babes. I am often stunned how simple and true the children’s answers are even when they don’t fully understand, it makes me pause and reflect on the Truth.

Whether you celebrate Christmas in a secular fashion, or as part of your faith,
Christmas is about the love. That is what brings us together this season – it’s Love.

God is love.  – 1 John 4:8.

If you attended a Christmas Eve service, you probably heard;

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life”. – John 3:16

That part where it says, “that he gave” – That’s Christmas morning. That was when Jesus was born – when God gave his one and only Son.

My family, celebrates Christmas in a secular fashion. We put up the tree, we wake up Christmas morning and have omelette for breakfast as a family and then we open the presents. Thankfully, growing up, my parents managed to spoil us without spoiling us! I think it’s because love was always the key – it was never about the presents.

Today… I was left stunned again by my parents extravagant gifts. Their love, their sacrifice. Their joy in giving us “good gifts” even when we don’t deserve it.   

“So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him.” – Matthew 7:11

Through celebrating Christmas, in a secular fashion, with my family, I was reminded how much God loves me through the extravagant love of my parents. To be cherished as beloved, to have all my mistakes forgiven, to be shown such an outpouring of love, and to see my parents take joy in doing so, to take joy in loving me simply because I am their child. I am stunned by their love, their kindness, their generosity.

In worldly terms, you may even call me spoilt! I know that even as an adult, I will always be their child. I take such delight in being their child. Take such delight in being beloved to my parents.

When I remember I am a child of God – the infinitely loving God – I am stunned.

“See how very much our Father loves us, for he calls us his children, and that is what we are!” – 1 John 3

God’s love is ever more extravagant. I take such delight in being His child! Take such delight in being beloved to Him! When my parents “spoil me” because of their great love, I am made even more aware of how our Heavenly Father has “spoiled” us because of His Great Love. When God gave us the greatest gift of all, His one and only son. The greatest sacrifice. Because of His great love! In our human weakness, we continue to make mistakes, continue to disobey, continue to turn away, but God, cherishes us as his beloved children, takes joy in bringing us near to Him, and forgives us through his extravagant love and sacrifice. That – is what Christmas morning is all about – it’s about the love.

So while I celebrate Christmas in a secular fashion, I remember once again, what great love inspires this day.

1 John 4:7-12

7 Dear friends, let us continue to love one another, for love comes from God. Anyone who loves is a child of God and knows God. 8 But anyone who does not love does not know God, for God is love.

9 God showed how much he loved us by sending his one and only Son into the world so that we might have eternal life through him. 10 This is real love—not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.

11 Dear friends, since God loved us that much, we surely ought to love each other. 12 No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and his love is brought to full expression in us.


piggy banks

Today I woke 6am in the morning, to my alarm. I had to open the school today at 7:30, so I thought I best wake early and arrive early! Now usually, I don’t wake early, I’m that person who can stay in bed till 3 minutes before 8 and still make it to work by 8:30! To open the school however, I must be early!

I woke, in the middle of a dream. In my dream, I was a bit older, perhaps in my mid thirties, and I had just come home to mom with a bag full of goodies from Value Village. Specifically it contained little ceramic piggy banks. I was sitting on the floor in front of my mom, jacket still on, and together we poured over the contents of the plastic bag from Value Village delighting like children in each ceramic piggy bank. I woke up, and just smiled at God. What a dream!

Perhaps He knew I needed a reason to smile this morning when I woke and found it still was dark! And he definitely gave me something to smile about! You see, usually, the roles are reversed. Usually, it’s mom who will open at 7:30 when need be. And it’s one of mom’s favourite things to do, to go to Value Village or a Thrift store!

Finding little ceramic piggy banks, is one of my mom’s favourite treasures to find! They come in all shapes and sizes. We have them in different animals too, from piggies, to frogs, to bears and even cars and dinosaurs! Mom buys these little piggy banks for the children in our classroom. The children love the satisfying clinking sound of coins in the ceramic piggy banks. Then they take all the coins out and start all over again! Naturally they break often when handled by little three year olds so we always are buying more! Brand new, these piggy banks can cost about $15 – $30. But at Value Village, we often find them for $2-$5. It’s a “hot” activity, the children enjoy for countless hours.

Whenever mom comes home from Value Village, we pour over the contents in her bags, and moms delights like a child in all the treasures she found! Especially when she’s found a new piggy bank! Her joy in finding these little piggy banks is a memory in my heart I will always hold dear. I didn’t even realize what a precious memory it is till today. I woke up, smiling, realizing that mom and I share this incredible child like joy and satisfaction in the simplest things. Smiling, knowing that one day, I’ll be bringing home the same treasures to show her. What love to know, there is someone, who understands perfectly the joy of finding another piggy bank for the children!

I also realized, waking up at 6am is not all that bad either!


I like to think of myself as a logical rational person. In fact so much so that the past couple years I haven’t really cried. I haven’t sat down and sobbed or weeped in the last couple years. I just sit and think when I’m sad, logically and rationally, I’ll sit and be still, and pray.

My right eye, is a bit leaky. I genuinely believed there was something wrong with it. It seems to leak all the time! Often during worship, and prayer, my right eye will leak tears. It’s somewhat embarrassing when I’m playing keys on stage and my right eye tears, then my vision gets blurry and I can’t see the notes! It also leaks when I’m outside watching my children play in the playground. I love watching them play.

My left eye started twitching recently. So I went to the eye doctor. It turns out that the tear ducts in my left eye are blocked. It also turns out that there’s nothing wrong with my right (leaky) eye.

It turns out that my impression that I’m logical and rational and don’t really cry is simply untrue. It’s so humbling (and quite funny I must add). I feel so deeply without even knowing it simply because my body doesn’t produce tears in one eye. And since I’m such a “logical, rational person” I thought surely if I were really sad, I would cry. Turns out I tear even in the simple pure joy of watching my children play.

“Ugly Feelings”

This past week, I had the joy of volunteering at VBC (Vacation Bible Camp) at my church. My role was to lead “Story Time” with the junior children. The children rotate through centres, gym, art, video, snack and story time.

Now, preschoolers, aren’t likely to sit for anything (except snack!) for 20 minutes in a camp setting, let alone a sit-down and listen style story time. (I had two preschool groups entering JK this september, and two kindergarten groups.) So I had a felt board, and poster sized flashcards, and a squishy light up ball, and green tape on the floor. Anything to get them to sit, listen, engage, behave, and enjoy themselves.

I taught these children in the best way I knew, coming to their level. I had to throw out all my lesson planning, cause these kids were just too young for that. To help them to understand prayer, I started with poster sized flashcards of feelings. We talked about good feelings, and ugly feelings. Ugly feelings are feelings we don’t like having. We described all those ugly feelings, and told stories of when we had those ugly feelings. I asked them “What can we do when we have ugly feelings?”

Immediately, 3 Year old K piped up, “When I have ugly feelings, I go to my room, I go to my bed, then I pray”

Before I could respond,

3 Year old M piped up, “When I spill my juice, daddy send me to my room, I go to my bed but I didn’t pray.”

My heart just brimmed with love for her, for her adorable cheek, for her honesty, for her authenticity. My heart smiled at her, and I felt God’s love for her.

As a teacher, I was thrilled by K’s response, but I also just loved M’s honesty. Love those two.

I realized tonight as I prayed, how often I am like M. How often. And then I remembered God’s love for M, and God’s love for me. I know I’m not a child, I have no excuse to choose not to pray, but I felt oddly at peace, realizing, fortunately I am God’s child. And He loves me dearly, and will keep waiting on me, and loving me till I turn to Him, and forevermore. And I thought of 3 year old K and imagined her sitting in bed, all alone, with her 3-year old struggles, choosing to pray. God help me be like K. Believing. Trusting you care to hear our prayer. Knowing you listen.Help me to have such honest simple, childlike faith.

Thank you God for loving me even though you are SO SO SO SO BIG. Thank you for loving me Jesus. Amen.

Arn’t you glad we’re ugly?

“You’re GORGEOUS!” says one of my best friends, time and again. I love that about her. I’ve gained weight this past year. Gaining weight has been something I’ve personally celebrated – I love my new curves. They’re especially nice to have to have babies – sleep on my chest, or hang off my hips. I’m working with toddlers this summer, and these curves will definitely come in handy!

But a couple weeks ago, I realized that I no longer fit in the majority of my nice dresses. The nice ones that I put on a hanger. The ones I save for special occasions. The ones that make me feel preeeeeetty. Just don’t fit.

I’ve never been in this place before. There used to be a time I couldn’t shop in most stores because I used to be too tiny – I used to be insecure about being too tiny. I used to be a 00 (yes a double zero) or an XXS. I haven’t been that small for a couple years – but I never saw this day coming – where I would feel insecure about being unable to zip up my dresses. It’s a bit of a shock to me. I’ve been opening up about my body insecurity with my dear friend – reminding myself – that really –  I do love my body. That really this past winter I’ve celebrated gaining some weight.

I’ve discovered body insecurity is real, no matter what size you are. What hair type you have. The condition of your skin. Doesn’t matter what you look like – body insecurity is real. I’m thankful I’ve grown older and for the most part, have grown to accept and love my body. My friends and I, we rarely talk about clothes or hair or make up or weight. But this particular friend has been sensitive to the body insecurity I’ve recently found I have again. So the other day she told me:

“Arn’t you glad we’re ugly?” And I LOVE THAT about her.

Lemme unpack that.

We’ve gone from being insecure little girls, to grown women, who don’t care too much, about our clothes or hair or make-up. Don’t get me wrong – we do care. We care to show ourselves some love and self-care. But, overall, we don’t really care. We’re truly happy with who we are.

“Arn’t you glad we’re ugly?” Is her way of reminding me of the women we’ve become – Arn’t you glad – We don’t care about societies view of beauty. We’re beautiful inside. Beautiful outside. Beautiful even when we don’t feel beautiful. Beautiful cause we have beautiful fun-loving personalities that make us attractive. “Arn’t you glad we’re ugly?” – She had me grinning ear to ear.

Today… was just one of those days, I felt ugly. I’m gonna blame it on mood swings. But then. I caught myself in the mirror as I walked by – Blue Jeans, a black & white stripped t-shirt, my go-to sweater, no make-up, my almost unibrow at this point and my gorgeous natural curls in a crazy mess from sleeping on the couch – only making them all the more gorgeous. And I caught myself looking at me – Beautiful me. God created me. And gosh-darn-it I’m GORGEOUS.

Saxophone Romance & Trust

Swing dancing. It requires trust. All kinds of trust.

To allow a leader to lead, and to allow your body to follow the lead, to allow yourself to be twirled, swung, spun – To allow yourself to be held close by a man – And at the same time to trust the integrity of the space in between two people.

If we don’t trust as the follower, the dance becomes rigid and difficult. It becomes awkward and clumsy and soon it is no longer – dancing.

Yesterday. I learned trust in a whole new way.
It was only my second night out Swing dancing the Lindy Hop.

And at our lesson I met a young blind man – Hussein.

Did I comment on the fact that he was blind? No. Did he? No.
Did I ask him his name? Yes. Did he ask me mine? Yes.
And we learned the steps together as I did with every other man.

Soon, the dance lesson was over, and the Social part of the night began. Swing dancing to a live band. Hussein could not see me from across the room. But somehow he knew he wanted to dance with me and was able to communicate that to his friend. His friend led him over to me. And before he could, I asked joyfully “Hussein would you like to dance with me?”

And then we danced. We laughed. We talked about music as the saxophone played.
And I learned trust in a whole new way, as I let a blind man lead me in dance.

Sure, as the dance floor filled up, and the dancers around us more lively and skilled took up more space, did I have the desire to lead because I could see. Sure I did. Did we bump into a couple people as I let Hussein lead. Sure we did. But soon, I learned to be his helper and yet allow him to lead. I’d gently add pressure with my hand on his shoulder blade if we were too close to another couple. I learned to follow in a whole new way. The beautiful thing was, that he could dance the Lindy hop perfectly, and lead me perfectly, if I did not get in the way trying to lead. Each step of his, so precise, intentional and light. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I found myself safe and at ease in his arms as I let him lead.

As my left arm and his right arm made contact and he placed his hand on my back ensuring to hold me safely as we’d spin; My heart filled with compassion as he’d check in with me to make sure I was okay. Although he could not see, he made sure to make eye contact / face me, at the appropriate times of the dance, and bring his face forward while maintaining the integrity of the space between us to let me speak close to his ear.

As I found myself learning trust in a whole new way, the saxophone definitely had me feeling a little romantically inclined. Perhaps it was because the ambiance was warm, and the string lights beautiful, the band attractive and the music remarkable. Perhaps it was because Hussein held me close and firm and yet danced so lightly, perfectly and incredibly for any man, but especially blind. (I close my eyes and try to imagine what it’d be like to dance blind.) But perhaps, perhaps it was I was learning trust. And when you can trust another person, they instantly become attractive.

As I danced with Hussein, I knew wholeheartedly that his intentions were good, he held me safely, he cared for my well-being, he lead me perfectly – as long as we didn’t bump into others! Soon our time was over and it was time to find a new partner. I found I danced better, as I learned to trust the leader more fully.

It has got me thinking, that perhaps when God created the world perfectly, he designed trust. And when humankind fell in sin, trust was broken. After all, aren’t we all seeking a relationship in which we can trust the other person wholeheartedly and completely with ourselves. Our entire being – emotionally, physically, spiritually.

the grass is greener…

You know how we always feel that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence?

In my daily life, it is the reality. Quite literally, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence as it is not trampled by the dozens of children who play on the grass inside the fence.

We have a 4 yr old girl in our class, happy-go-lucky thing. Who recently lost the bounce in her step as her mom has been in the hospital in the ICU. For a couple days last week, we didn’t know if she’d live the next day.

If you can imagine a mini me. It’s this girl. Just about anything makes her happy.

To hear her tell me, “I cannot see my mommy anymore because she has infection” broke my heart. I’ve made sure to give her extra hugs, and tickles and giggles. Holding her as often as she needed these past two weeks.

This past Wednesday, she got to see her mommy again. Her mommy’s life is no longer in constant danger, but she is still very sick, or we could say, she is healing.

In the playground yesterday… this little one, standing beside me not quite in the mood to play, looking at her feet … looked down at the grass and told me excitedly in the rush of joy she experienced in that moment…


I looked, and sure enough it was, and my heart was just as easily filled with that simple joy and excitement that our grass is getting greener.


Father I thank you for the reflection it has caused my heart to join in that childlike joy and wonder that “the grass is getting greener”. I thank you that even after hard seasons, and in hard circumstances, our grass will once again, get greener.  Truly this little girl, has shown me a perspective in life that no adult could. I thank you that you are healing her mommy. I thank you that once again she has the bounce in her step.

…that feeling.

I can’t tell if it’s the feeling of a hollow in my chest, or a weight on my heart. Honestly it’s quite hard to describe. Can’t quite tell if it’s emptiness, or heaviness. But I feel it often.

My sister tends to tell me, you don’t like to feel.
It’s kind of true.

TOO OFTEN… that feeling is present, and I open my phone. And I pour through anything, everything, Facebook, Instagram, Youtube, a Bible App. Pinterest. It’s usually in that exact order. I don’t know why I so desperately desire to distract myself from that feeling. The distraction never satisfies.

The funny thing is, I have this feeling on my heart – from both feelings that are bad or good. It’s just the fact that it is so intense that makes me squirm.

My sister tends to tell me, you don’t like to feel.
It’s kind of true.

Then there are times, TOO LESS… that feeling is present, and I pray. I don’t quite know why I don’t pray more often when I experience that feeling. I think it’s partly because it’s hard to trust that when I am praying… I am praying to an invisible Being I say I believe in. To ACTUALLY FEEL it – is hard. To actually BELIEVE it – is hard. Perhaps I feel I’m alone talking to myself. And that’s a little bit terrifying. What if God isn’t real?

oh but child. WHAT IF HE IS?
and what if HE LOVES YOU.
and I remind myself of that again and again.

When I pray, I don’t ask God to take the feeling away, but somehow, just by being still in His presence, and delighting in the fact, that the GOD of the UNIVERSE delights in me. That feeling is lifted. And I find myself in the presence of LOVE. One who cares for me dearly, ready to listen to every story of mine. Every joy, every pain. He cares. He listens better than any other. And in some precious moments, I realize He really is real.

That feeling. Is a constant reminder, that as a mere human, I dearly need HIM. Need His fulness to fill the void. Need His strength to lift the weight.

What I do like to feel is Joy. I feel it intensely and it overflows. It makes me sad when others around me don’t experience that same Joy and I desperately try to share my joy well. What I’ve come to realize however, is – that – Joy – is not mere human joy. I experience it so intensely because it comes from Him.

I’ve come to learn that to do Life, with the giver of Life, is to experience Life intensely.

In prayer, I’ve learned, to pray with thankfulness. It’s thankfulness to be in His presence – through the good, the bad, the pain, the joy – it’s thankfulness to be in His presence that brings a sweetness to prayer that can cut through the intensity of whatever the feeling is and bring peace to my heart.

And so, when I unconsciously believe, what if God doesn’t hear me? / What if God doesn’t care?  … I remind myself, oh but child. What if HE DOES!