You know that moment where someone gives you a hug... and it's awkward? You know what I'm talking about. There are approximately a billion elements that can make a hug awkward. Prime example - sign of peace. Hug or handshake? Looks like a hug. Side hug or full hug? Too late to figure that out. Whose arms go on top? What do I do with my head?.... hands?... #itscomplicated
Parent hugs - typically awkward.
I know that in my teenage years, whenever my Mom hugged me, I would tense up and cringe inside and think, "Hold your breath. It'll be over soon." I think I thought that her holding me made me 5 again, like her arms would suck me back into childhood. Like that would be a bad thing.
Today, during my prayer, there was a moment where I was just sitting and resting in God. My soul was cozy and warm. I was being held. It was like wrapping up in a blanket fresh out of the dryer. Or the sip of a chai tea latte. Or chocolate melting in the mouth. Perfection. Tingly. Mmmm.
And this is what my pen scribbled down in that moment:
"So much resting in You. So much comfort and consolation in Your arms. And it's an embrace - there's no resentment, there's no longing to be somewhere else or with anyone else - this is natural, right and good, to the depths of the soul. This is what we were made for. This is the embrace of heaven."
What a rare encounter.
See, that's not normal for me. Typically in prayer, I'm squirmy.
I feel God coming in, with good things, things I need, things that I want. He comes with love. And I squirm. I resist. I put up walls. I cringe and get tense. Because I don't need to be held. I've got this. I'm a grown up.
And what happens, because I'm so sophisticated?
I lose.
That moment of heaven on earth that was meant for me, that had my name on it, straight from God's heart to mine - I pass it up and opt for my pride. And I end up empty, cold and wanting. Wanting, when heaven was offered to me.
And it's tragedy instead of transcendence.
But - I've come to recognize what I'm missing out on when I'm prideful, too self-reliant for God. And I'm trying to get over myself, because if I choose me over Jesus, I'm gonna keep losing, every time. These days, I'm trying to be little. I'm trying to be more like Therese. She begged for abandonment. She understood the love that God wanted to pour into the hearts of His children. She told Jesus:
"if You were to find a soul more weak and little than mine, You would be pleased to shower upon it even greater favors, if it abandoned itself to You with complete
confidence in Your infinite mercy."
Abandonment, into the arms of love Himself. No place I'd rather be. The place all our souls were made for. The place we can only get to by being little and childlike before our Lord. I am now intentionally praying for this, for abandonment. I am now praying for confidence to the point of foolishness. This is the freedom we were made for, the love that was always meant to be ours.
Remember the mercy, love and joy of the Father. Become like children. Be a little soul that abandons itself to love Himself.
#31daysofgrace #31dayswithMaryandTherese #Day2
Parent hugs - typically awkward.
I know that in my teenage years, whenever my Mom hugged me, I would tense up and cringe inside and think, "Hold your breath. It'll be over soon." I think I thought that her holding me made me 5 again, like her arms would suck me back into childhood. Like that would be a bad thing.
Today, during my prayer, there was a moment where I was just sitting and resting in God. My soul was cozy and warm. I was being held. It was like wrapping up in a blanket fresh out of the dryer. Or the sip of a chai tea latte. Or chocolate melting in the mouth. Perfection. Tingly. Mmmm.
And this is what my pen scribbled down in that moment:
"So much resting in You. So much comfort and consolation in Your arms. And it's an embrace - there's no resentment, there's no longing to be somewhere else or with anyone else - this is natural, right and good, to the depths of the soul. This is what we were made for. This is the embrace of heaven."
What a rare encounter.
See, that's not normal for me. Typically in prayer, I'm squirmy.
I feel God coming in, with good things, things I need, things that I want. He comes with love. And I squirm. I resist. I put up walls. I cringe and get tense. Because I don't need to be held. I've got this. I'm a grown up.
And what happens, because I'm so sophisticated?
I lose.
That moment of heaven on earth that was meant for me, that had my name on it, straight from God's heart to mine - I pass it up and opt for my pride. And I end up empty, cold and wanting. Wanting, when heaven was offered to me.
And it's tragedy instead of transcendence.
But - I've come to recognize what I'm missing out on when I'm prideful, too self-reliant for God. And I'm trying to get over myself, because if I choose me over Jesus, I'm gonna keep losing, every time. These days, I'm trying to be little. I'm trying to be more like Therese. She begged for abandonment. She understood the love that God wanted to pour into the hearts of His children. She told Jesus:
"if You were to find a soul more weak and little than mine, You would be pleased to shower upon it even greater favors, if it abandoned itself to You with complete
confidence in Your infinite mercy."
Abandonment, into the arms of love Himself. No place I'd rather be. The place all our souls were made for. The place we can only get to by being little and childlike before our Lord. I am now intentionally praying for this, for abandonment. I am now praying for confidence to the point of foolishness. This is the freedom we were made for, the love that was always meant to be ours.
Remember the mercy, love and joy of the Father. Become like children. Be a little soul that abandons itself to love Himself.
#31daysofgrace #31dayswithMaryandTherese #Day2