We come home from the lake and even I am sun tanned as much as someone with an English father and Dutch mother can be. All those minnows and mornings on the quiet of a lake that’s seen my husband, his mother and his grandfather all grow up calm me. The quiet water washes over my toes, my worries, my restlessness.
Home doesn’t have to be the southern hemisphere.
Home lives in the memories of the people who wed their lives and stories and small white cottages on wooded hills alongside little Traverse Lake to us. Their tall tales take us by the hand and it’s OK to stop worrying about making life big. It’s OK to be small. It’s OK to exhale and remember that you’re part of something that likes to speak in more than 140 characters at a time.
Stones skip along with my heart as I watch my boys watching their dad. Or my baby girl up to her chubby thighs in ripples.
It’s a long time since I’ve slowed down.
I come back full. Full of ice cream and double chocolate fudge and cottage pizza homemade by Micah and his Aunt Kim. I come home over two days in a car with my people and the blessed DVD player. The dog is apoplectic to see us. So are the lightning bugs.
This upside down house that has made itself at home on my insides is the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a week.
I keep thinking about smallness. About the courage to be in the moment. About women who fight to cement memories into the lives of their kids. Life sometimes feels like so much wet sand dripping through our fingers.
Sandcastles washed away without even a hope of making it five minutes, let alone tomorrow.
So we face it. We sit on the swing and set our faces toward the sunset and keep packing the memories one on top of the other. We build our castles, we tell our stories, and we stroke the hair back from our kids’ foreheads.
There is nothing small about these moments.
You don’t have to travel with Compassion International to change the world.
You just have to be willing to ache right here at home.
Sometimes on a quiet afternoon holding the hand of an aunt you love. Sometimes at 2am cleaning up four-year-olds with upset stomachs. Sometimes at the nursing home with your people who need your hands, your eyes, your time. Sometimes with the people at church who make you the most uncomfortable or that student who just can’t get it right in your class. That girl who’s mean to you or that husband who doesn’t hear what you’re trying to say.
We fight to love them by opening up our whole selves and letting the hurt in.
We wade out into the deep water so we can get a better look at the sunset.
We hope.
We hold hands.
We whisper with Job, the prayer of the aching faithful,
And we pray God that He help us mean it.
oh yes…my husband and I were talking about this yesterday…we use worldly scales to weigh the importance of things…God’s scales are balanced…and He doesn’t measure us against another. Glad you had a refreshing vacation. Blessings as we live fully right where we are:)
BEAUTIFUL and right on the money… it’s all about the little things… day by day, moment by moment. Keep on keepin’ on!
Photos Are beautiful……more so because they provoke peaceful feelings in my heart……being stil……knowing…. ;0)
“that husband who doesn’t hear what you’re trying to say”
I’m listening Lord.
Wow. Lisa-jo,your words always strike a chord of resonance with me. Not only did your beautiful.pictures calm my heart but your words seemed to wash over me like an ebb and tide. There is something about being a olace removed from the business of daily life that always seems to soothe the spirit. However any time spent by the water for me is pure communion with my God. There is just something about sitting in awe of tge creation,listening to its subtle roar that inspires my heart to want more of Him. Thank you for sharing dear sis in Christ!
Those pictures are so inviting… to sit and listen to the quiet. To rest in the knowing that peace is so close. Oh what a joy and a beautiful experience.
oh, Amen, friend! Such good stuff. Life-giving stuff. Bread that nourishes and satisfies.
I needed this today…thank you.
I’m leaving in five days to push my toes in the sand on a lake the this one, except its in Ontario Canada. It does wonders for restoring the true meaning of life. Love all your pictures, makes me anxious to get there.
Amen. Thankyou Lisa-Jo.
I love this.
I seem to need this reminder too often lately. It shames me to even write that! The world’s scales are tipped and rigged and we never ever measure enough by them. You remind metoday (again) where my value lies and for that I send you cyber chocolates and hugs. You bless me so much with these words, Lisa-Jo. Welcome home ;)
Beautiful post.
This post. It was like salve on a wound. So peaceful and yet powerful. Thanks for writing, Lisa-Jo.
This is beautiful and very peaceful. The pictures are gorgeous too. Upper MI is so beautiful.
I’ve mulled over the smallness/largeness of my life and after 26 years of marriage and 25 years of motherhood (and 28 years of walking with the Lord) learned that not everyone will be a Moses or a David or a Paul. Some of us will be Samson’s mother who is referred to as “the woman”. Or maybe not even that.
Our role is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever according to the Westminster Catechism. Isn’t that a relief? We don’t have to strive and fret. All we have to do is be obedient, and whether our life is large or small we will be making an impact for Christ wherever He has put us.
So beautiful!
Ahh, I’d forgotten about that verse in Job – I love it! It reminds me of the one in Daniel – Our God is able to save us from the fire, but EVEN IF HE DOESN’T, we are not going to serve your gods! (paraphrased form Daniel 3:17-18) We keep loving others when they hurt us and loving God when it’s easier to worship the gods of comfort and fun and public opinion – thanks for another wonderful post, Lisa-Jo. And for reminding us that there are many opportunities to love right here at home.
Oh, sweetie – AMEN. Beautifully said, Lisa-Jo. There truly is nothing small about any of this life we lead, this life we are given. You’ve captured it so well. Thank you.
Oh LisaJo, Thank you for validating my position in life again.