Monday, April 25, 2016

Prayer, peace, and a pile of laundry


It started with a basket of laundry. My seven-year-old had been given the arduous task (in her mind) of folding a basket of towels. I was working nearby when I glanced over at my girl. Mid-fold, she had dropped her head and silent tears were coursing down her cheeks.

This sweet girl of mine is known for her spontaneous tear displays. Their size, velocity and volume rival any Hollywood actress. She sometimes grabs a bowl to catch them so she can make tear soup (I'm not joking). She possesses a tender heart and a dramatic spirit. Although we are not hardened to her tears, we are usually not overly concerned either.

However, at this moment I sensed something deeper in her heart than a dislike of chores or superficial concerns. I knelt beside her and pulled her into my arms. When I asked why she was crying, she sobbed as the words poured out.

“I miss Abby! I miss her so much. I haven't seen her forever. I want her to be safe. I wish things could go back to the way they used to be. I want her to be okay. Mom, I want her to be safe!”

Abby. One of her favorite people in the world. She has grown up with Abby. Abby has loved on her since we brought her home. Abby was one of the first names she learned outside of our family.

As I continued to hold her and rub her back, I longed to make it better, but I knew I couldn't. I wish I could, I wish I knew everything was going to be okay. I can only entrust Abby to Jesus and point my kids to do the same.

Her torrent of tears subsided and she returned to folding her pile of towels. I stayed nearby, working at the kitchen table with my back to her. Moments later, my tender-hearted girl was sobbing again in earnest. She was lying face down on a large floor pillow, hugging our dog like a stuffed animal. I began to rise from my chair, but stopped when I picked out the words coming from her mouth.

“Please God, please! Please, God! Please! Please God!”

She was pleading for Abby. Now I was crying. Tears rolled steadily down my cheeks. I sat transfixed, silently watching the scene before me.

In what was probably less than a minute, she sat up, released the dog (we have a very tolerant dog), and let out a deep breath. She looked toward me and asked, “Mom, can I listen to Colin [Buchanan]?”

“Um, yes, that's fine.”

I knew I had witnessed a profound moment. We pray for Abby and her whole family often, but it doesn't always seem like she's engaged. On this occasion, I had not told her to pray. It was her and her God. I watched her grieve, I grieved with her. And then I saw her grief push her to plead and petition the One who is trustworthy to receive and be a balm for the deepest cries of her heart. What struck me most was the peace I watched her receive. I could visibly see the shift in her demeanor and spirit. Her heart was at rest.

I had witnessed the truth and power of these words: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6,7

I love these verses. I might even name them as my favorite. How often do I experience this peace? I pour out my requests, fears, heartaches with abandon but often forfeit my peace, forfeit my rest in God. My habit seems to be pray, cry, plead, then worry, fret, worry.

I'm not implying a sort of magic formula. Follow these steps and never struggle again—a method in which it is possible to release cares and not be bothered again. It's continual, this giving over of our anxiety and fears. Life if tough—a battle to the core.

This day, watching my girl, a young believer in age and faith release her heartbreak and receive undeniable peace, I was amazed, humbled, and convicted. I wondered if I had lost that child-like faith. Raw. Genuine. Full of trust.

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.” Colossians 3:15 ESV

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Matthew 11:28-29 ESV

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.” John 14:27 ESV

These words should be more than cheery proverbial mash, carry more weight than an inane fortune cookie. Today, as I wrestle through much that burdens my mind and heart, I can't shake the scene set in my living room amid unfolded towels and an unsuspecting dog. What my daughter experienced, peace surpassing understanding, is for me too. Every day. Every moment. And I want it.

No comments:

Post a Comment