Wings || Guest Post
Written by my dear friend Katie, mama of five and faithful follower of the Lord. Katie girl - thanks for letting me share your words. ;)
You can get a glimpse of her beautiful life here; you’ll be encouraged.
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I reach a point during the day - usually before 10am - where I wish I could grow wings and fly away.
Far away from the constant screaming. The fighting between siblings. The noise and clamor.
And when there is a brief moment of peace, there will always be the never-ending questions from inquisitive little toddlers. Multiple demands for juice. And the diaper changes. The many, many diaper changes.
I find myself only saying the words, “What is it?” “Don’t do that.” “Stop it.” “Not right now.” “Please wait.” I forgot what it is like to put complete thoughts and sentences together.
My heart is racing purely because I am on high alert. The adrenaline is rushing through my system at the sound of each shrill scream. Who is hurt? Who hurt who? Who needs discipline? How should I discipline? “Give me wisdom, Lord.”
My head is pounding. Another pregnancy migraine. I wish I could rest. And so I lie down on my unmade bed, hoping the children will realize I need a moment. Maybe the show I put on for them will keep them distracted for 30 minutes. But they find me. Rest is over. “Give me Your solace, Lord.”
I set the four kids up with dominos and Magna Tiles in the play room. They are playing peacefully. I slip away for 2 minutes to take a quick shower before the speech therapist arrives. But not even a minute in, I hear the toddler crying, and big sister close behind her. I get out of the shower, dripping wet, ready and armed to comfort and correct. “Give me gentleness, Lord.”
Crisis over for now. I glance at my phone, purely out of habit. Maybe something will distract me. There is a message on my blog from a woman who just found [my Facebook] page. She is reaching out with questions. I wish I had the answers for her, but I don’t even have the headspace to open up the message. If I turn my back for one second, or set my attention on my phone for longer than one moment, I don’t know what might happen. Chaos. And so I stay focused. In the moment. My eyes fixed on the children and their needs. The message will have to wait for later. “Give me purpose, Lord.”
My mind is working overtime, all the time - but then why am I drawing blanks all day? Why can I not be creative with the kids? I have no energy. It takes every bit of it out of me just to stay calm, present, in the here and now. Lunch on the table, dishes washed, children clean. I play peaceful piano music in the living room, desperate to bring an atmosphere of peace and calm to my home. But the music becomes just another annoyance, another noise to bear, and I end up shutting it off after only one song. “Give me Your peace, Lord.”
As I write, a child is crying. I don’t know why, but can probably guess.
Yes, I wish I could fly away and be at rest.
But here is where I am.
In the noise, in the chaos, in the unsettled.
I am undone.
My world is not right side up right now.
And yet in this place, I worship. I bow down, I lay down every burden, and I lift up my voice. I let go. I cry from the depths of my soul, “God, You are good! I love You! I worship You!” My voice weakens as the tears close up my throat. I drop to my knees, and am overcome by an immense, overwhelming realization that God loves me and is enough for me. In my mess. In my weakness. He is there, and He is ready to uphold me with strength in my soul.
He gives me wings. His wings of courage. Peace. Joy. Strength. My feet do not budge from this earth, but my spirit is lifted high. In this place of worship, I break free from every burden that would wish to weigh me down. Every lie from the enemy that would make me question His love and care for me. Every wrong attitude that would cause me to look at my children and despise my motherhood.
I have to go back to this place every day, this secret place with the Lord. My prayer closet. My resting place. It doesn’t look like what it used to. It is not always a physical place, but a place I go to when my heart is overcharged, and spirit overwhelmed.
Before children, my times with Jesus were carefully carved out every day. Some would call it “morning devotions” or “quiet time.” I sat in my clean bedroom, candle lit, hot tea in hand. Open Bible and pen ready to journal all the things I had on my heart. My mind was fresh and clear. There was no noise or clamor outside my bedroom door. Those days are but a distant memory to me.
But now. Now, the desperation I have for God to speak to me, to comfort me, to uphold me in the middle moments brings me to a different kind of “quiet time.” In this place, He meets me while I wash dishes. While I change the 10th diaper of the day. While I break up another argument. While I want to hide my face in the covers, blocking out the noise. While I simply do the next thing.
Have you met with Him today? Has your trouble made you run into His arms? Is He your hiding place and your shelter from every storm?
In this this place, you will find your wings to fly. Perhaps not away from your trouble, but towards sweet Jesus. Let Him be your song in the night. Your light in the darkness. Your joy in the mourning.
You can bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, and do all things through Christ who gives you strength.
"I said, Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and find rest… As for me, I will call upon God; and the Lord shall save me. Evening, and morning, and at noon, will I pray, and cry aloud: and He shall hear my voice. Cast your burden upon the LORD and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous be shaken."
Psalm 55
