t-minus 3 days

Leaving is harder than anything I ever thought I’d do. And it gets harder with each day.

My last few weeks, and my summer as a whole, have been the absolute sweetest. When I finished school and stopped working at the end of April, I never could have imagined the places the Lord would take me through this sabbatical of mine. He so gently taught me that one of the first fruits of true, real grace is rest, that I might be able to more authentically and intimately reveal this same grace to the people I’ll meet so soon. Sabbath is such good news. In the sentiment of Rich Villodas, you intentionally accomplish nothing and He still loves you all the same. Praise God 🙂

Over the summer, I have had some sweet opportunities to babysit for some families in my community. The kids I’ve gotten to hang out with are the cutest and the coolest! And the income is an added blessing.

Nearly nothing is sweeter than a baby who loves his Mama. It typically goes like this: baby and I are playing calmly, quietly after I’ve discreetly cleaned the toys up, collected my things, and prepare to say goodbye, knowing Mom will arrive home soon. The keys jingle in the lock, the door opens, Mom says a warm “hello” all the way from the other room, and the baby’s eyes light up immediately. From across the house at some times, he recognizes his mother’s sweet voice. He smiles and laughs and reaches for her to scoop him up and swallow him in hugs and kisses. And then almost immediately makes a grab for her shirt, eager to be nursed, to be held by her again. It makes my heart smile each and every time! Nearly nothing is sweeter 🙂

A similar story is told in Psalm 131. Verse 2 of the Message paraphrase reads, “I’ve cultivated a quiet heart. Like a baby content in its mother’s arms, my soul is a baby content.” More literal translations of the same passage read, “like a weaned child with it’s mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me,” bringing on a completely new life to the metaphor. The posture of the psalmist’s heart is not one of a child eager to be nursed, eager to have it’s needs met. Rather, he is like a weaned child that is content at his mother’s side, finding joy in just her company. He learns to love her for more than what she can give. Arthur Weiser puts it, “No desire now comes between him and his God; for he is sure that God knows what he needs before he asks him. And just as the child gradually breaks off the habit of regarding his mother only as a means of satisfying his own desires and learns to love her for her own sake, so the worshipper after a struggle has reached an attitude of mind in which he desires God for himself and not as means of fulfillment of his own wishes. He now rests no longer in himself but in God.”

 

Leaving is harder than anything I ever though I’d do, but there is so much hope in knowing what’s to gain (or who, rather).

So with lip bitten and heart swollen, I’ll do what was once unthinkable: walk away.

 

He doesn’t want me insecurely dependent on who I think He is, but willingly trustful in who I know Him to be. and so He weans.
He beckons me to forgo the joys in which I once thought were necessities and instead finding solace in He who denied them to me.

The Lord is good. And so kind. Kind enough, in fact, to take away something good to give you something better, to trade your silver for gold. So very kind that He would remove something great to give you Himself. Trust Him to do it. He’s good like that 🙂

Charles Spurgeon once said that Psalm 131 “is one of the shortest Psalms to read, but one of the longest to learn.” I pray that you and I come to learn to well.

 

 

With all my love,

Sydney<3