For the Display of His Splendor

Tonight I'm short on words. Or I should say I'm short on coherent words. I suppose if I keep typing, a great deal of words will actually end up on this page, but my thoughts are a jumbled, tangled swirl like a drawer of yarn that several cats have gotten into. 

The news is overwhelming. There is so much bad news. 

My laundry is overwhelming. There is so much laundry.

How in the world can these things coexist in my mind? The weighty and the absolutely mundane hanging out together in that space seems ludicrous. Vying for my attention, each with legitimate claims, they confuse and then sucker punch me!

This morning, our worship leader read from Isaiah 61. I think he read just the first two verses in relation to Jesus' first sermon in Luke (in which Jesus quotes the first verse of Isaiah 61). But I want to share the first three:

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
    because the Lord has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
    to proclaim freedom for the captives
    and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
    and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
     and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
    instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
    instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
    instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
    a planting of the Lord
    for the display of his splendor.

I often read these verses and mainly think of how Jesus came to save the spiritually lost. The poor, the brokenhearted, the captives, the blind in spirit are the ones that come to mind.

I forget how Jesus walked mile after dusty mile and fed the hungry bellies, as well as the hungry spirits!

I forget how Jesus smiled and gently lifted up, touched, or even just looked at the sick with the most compassionate eyes that have ever seen, and healed them, made them whole!

I forget how Jesus sent a legion of demons out of a man with one word, freeing him from literal chains, as well as from slavery to those evil spirits!

I forget how Jesus stopped to restore a man's eyesight, for his Father's glory and so that this man could see, really see!

It becomes all too easy to forget that these are also the things that Jesus came for today. In my time. In my city. In my world. Yes, he has secured our eternal salvation with his victory over death, but he has also sent his people into the world to proclaim a message: good news, freedom, release! These are very real needs in our world today. I am excited about an opportunity I have to be involved in this mission of Jesus'. I hope to share more about it soon.

May it be for his glory and for his splendor. 

I Keep Getting Caught in the Webb...

Imagine a peaceful, bedtime scene. The only light is a dim desk lamp, Eliana is snuggled under her blanket, rubbing her eyes. I am reading Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder.

Suddenly, I feel something move across the top of my head. Sure that a roach or a mouse or maybe even a squirrel is making its way down, or possibly across, my part, I reach up frantically to feel my hair, crying out,"What's on my head?! WHAT'S ON MY HEAD?!"

Giggling. Hysterical giggling, crowing, shrieking. Christian's face, full of glee and mischieviousness, pops around the frame of Eliana's doorway, and he squeals,"What's on my head? What's on my head?!" as he almost topples over in gales of laughter. 

At this point, we are all laughing; I have tears in my eyes I'm laughing so hard. "You got me that time, Christian! That was a good one!" 

What did he do, you ask? He snuck in Eliana's room while my back was to the door, and while she just so happened to be rubbing her eyes, and he lightly placed a dryer sheet on top of my head. A dryer sheet! As it fluttered up there and then slowly drifted off the right side, it scared the mess out of me. And I never saw it coming.

There were some good ol' Webb genes showing themselves right there. Ornery. Ornery. Ornery. I told him it was a good thing I liked him or else he would have been in big trouble...

Wherever You Go

This little plaque is a gift from my parents to Christian. This one verse of Scripture packs a big punch. Thoughts of the future have been worrying me. As I try to learn about some things that are going on in the world and in our country, my fears rise up and threaten to devour my spirit. 

I have no reason to fear. We have no reason to fear, regardless of what happens. I remember the words of my pastor after the Newtown shooting; "We are never not safe." I remember Dietrich Bonhoeffer's fearless resolve. I recall Jesus' words to his disciples, the women at the tomb, Paul, John in exile: "Do not be afraid!" 

We are not to be afraid...so what are we to do? Love. Love in humility. Love with compassion. Love in truth.

We can only do this with his help. Isn't a remarkable thing that from beginning to end he has promised to be with us wherever we go? 

Sometimes...I Have to Take Deep Breaths

Sometimes a seemingly insignificant and bizarre circumstance makes me think that there must be secret video cameras recording me. (I have to take deep breaths when someone has been messing with our car.) (Again!)

Sometimes my laundry gets twisted in knots. (I have to take deep breaths when I discover such shenanigans in my washer.)

Sometimes the reality of these quickly passing days is all too real. (I have to take deep breaths when I realize that my oldest kid can wear my shoes.)

Sometimes I get the most awesome glimpses into the strange minds of my children through their creative house decor. (I have to take deep breaths when I find egg caps on my chairs.) (You should see the coffee table.) (Actually, you couldn't even see it if you tried.)

Sometimes the fruit of my (all-too-often meager) labor surpises and lifts me up. (I have to take deep breaths when I realize how full my heart is.)

Is This Burning an Eternal Flame?

Three times of significant pain stick out in my mind like no others.

The first (well, it's really three times but I think they count as one since they fall into the same category) is labor, especially that hard labor at the end in which you are most certain that all of your insides are definitely going to burst because of all of the squeezing and you can hardly breathe, but somehow you do, and oh, how it hurts, and where is the relief, but then pushing! into! pain! and suddenly there is a baby on top of your belly instead of in it and the pain just stops. (Until you begin nursing...then it starts up again something fierce.)

The second is when a doctor removed a needle from my big toe. (Yes. An entire sewing needle. Minus the very tip which broke off as the rest of it went into my toe.) The needle going into my toe was nothing. A little blip on the pain radar. I felt a small poke, really; I thought,"What was that?" I saw a tiny poke-spot, but...nothing else. When my toe didn't feel better two days later, but looked much worse, I drove myself to the walk-in clinic and had an x-ray taken. The doctor told me I had a needle in my toe. Incredulously, (I mean, how can one not know that one has a needle in one's toe?) I looked at the picture and saw it with my own eyes. So, he had to get it out. He numbed it, cut my toe, and used a magnet to find and remove the needle. (Gross.) He bandaged my toe, and sent me on my way with a prescription for a pain-killer. Once home, I handed over the prescription to Mike, who went to have it filled. Before he got back home, the local pain-killer wore off. I lay in bed, writhing, with my leg up in the air hoping to alleviate some of the pain. Nothing helped. The horrible aching went all the way up my leg and into my midsection. The sweet relief of those pills once they kicked in was nothing short of miraculous for me. 

The third is the pain that I have felt today since I spilled hot (microwaved to the boiling point) water on my hand. As the water sloshed over the edge of the measuring cup that I was holding, I almost couldn't see, it hurt so badly. I somehow managed to set the 2-cup measure down rather than dropping it on the granite countertop, and then immediately stuck my hand in cold running water. I let the water pour cool relief over my hand for a good ten minutes. (Okay, it was about two minutes, then I googled what I should do, and then I stuck my hand back in for about seven more minutes.) (Truthfully...who can stand at the sink all day? Ain't nobody got time fo' dat!) (Sorry. I couldn't help myself.) I made an ice pack and set it on my hand, and have been like that for the better part of this day. Even in the car. (The good news: You can still watch a baseball game with an ice pack on your hand.)

When the numbness from the ice wears off, my hand begins to feel like it's on fire. I'm sure that someone who has actually been on fire would tell me,"You have NO IDEA what it feels like to be on fire, sister," but the feeling for me is one of burning.

My unharmed hand doesn't look all that good either...how about some lotion, Grandma? But just for the sake of comparison...

My burned fingers are swollen with small white patches. The white patches make me a bit nervous. What will become of them tomorrow, I wonder. 

The only thing that has helped is the ice, and the cold water. The cold, cold, cold feels so good. I did get some aloe gel for tonight, so I hope that will help while I sleep. Honestly, I'm not looking forward to trying to sleep. I sense a long night. 

I know full well that the burn could have been much worse than it was, and that compared to others' very serious burn injuries, it's nothing. This pain gives me a huge feeling of empathy for those who have been hurt severely in a fire. I cannot imagine what that must be like, what agony someone might feel after being seriously or critically burned.

This post will be short (haha, I call this short these days!), because I want to get my hand back under some ice! You are probably thinking,"Thank you for such mercy!" after some of my recent, long-winded posts. Enjoy it while you can...my fingers will be itching to burn some word miles after this unanticipated, forced, respite.