It’s Palm Sunday and quiet in my house.
Phil has taken Sam turkey hunting, and John and my mom are still sleeping. Olivia was on the road late last night traveling back to school with friends from the Hampton rodeo. I slept with the volume of my cell phone up high so I would hear it if she needed us and assume she is safe and fast asleep in her dorm room this morning.
The sun is up, and the morning fog is almost gone except for what lingers over the pond. The Canadian geese just made their first flight for the day over the house and have landed in their favorite spot for a morning meal.
I am still in my pajamas and sitting in my bedroom at a large wood desk that used to find its home next to my Grandmother’s bed. The view through the window in front of me looks through our back porch toward the northern sky where below lies a beautiful, green pasture spotted with our neighbor’s cattle.
My coffee needs warming, but other than that, it’s pretty much a perfect morning. My heart is full.
I suppose I should start getting ready for church, but I feel like it's time to share something that has been on my mind for many years. Though my heart is full, it is also burdened.
My perfect little corner of the world would mean nothing and be nothing without the companionship of God’s Holy Spirit within me. Because the Most High God is my God and Christ Jesus is my King, I know who I am, and it doesn’t change with my surroundings because it is His Life that gives me hope and purpose. I’m good, and at a point where I would like to hang onto the beautiful things in my life (most importantly my family) and just live quietly.
However, society holds thousands of children who are rich in every way but living in a world of illusion. Their comfortable lives are paired with a mere head knowledge of God that does not give them an effective lens for seeing themselves, others, or the world as Christ sees them. Without this lens, they are left hungry, empty, and vulnerable to poor decisions that will have consequences that follow them the rest of their lives.
There are also thousands upon thousands of children who do not have the life-giving nourishment of loving parents, peaceful homes, financial security, or spiritual leadership that are essential to learning and growing with purpose and hope. For these children, a healthy identity and firm foundation for life is even less likely.
Because of them, I can’t hang on to me.
So, this blog and all that follows after today is my best effort to Lean Toward Life - to speak and act in ways that breathe life into others and point to the One who made that triumphal entry into Jerusalem so many years ago. Because of us, He let go.
Seems like a good day for me too.