“Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is.” ~ Ephesians 5:17
When I have failed before I begin. The look in her eyes piercing my heart. The sound of his cry scalding my core. All the words swirling and never landing. My self spred thin. Too thin, cracking and tearing thin.
When he let me down. Again. Failed to rise up to what I hold high. When I fail to meet him there. Those lofty places mocking and aching within. The scar thickening, deepening, spreading… reminding me of all the lost hopes and broken dreams dashed into reality. Hurt splashing onto hurt.
There is a difference between being driven by a need to perform and being driven by a purpose. One is out of pain. One is out of hope.
One little boy says, “Daddy, I have learned that you fail only when you don’t slow down. If you slow down you don’t fail; you learn. If you don’t slow down you miss things and mess up. I guess that means failing.”
My eyes meet his. The tears redden rims. His head bows. The weight of his names dragging shoulders earthbound. Daddy. Husband. His chest heaves the agony, shifting the weight around. My own heart leaking lead, my own eye-rims red. Fraying at the spinning lack of control and the looming chaos closing in as piles of laundry, dishes, papers, toys… our nerves meet somewhere in the middle.
When eyes lack sight in the blindness of emotion and life past and present weaves blindfold over future a child’s voice rings clear sweet truth.
We cling to each other from across the table. The light of truth brings a dawn of understanding between us. When we perform we rush, we miss, we hurt. When we purpose we pause. We breath. We live. Our purpose remembered between us.
“And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight,” ~Philippians 1:9
To cultivate relationships with our kids, pausing to hear their voices, pausing to let the laundry lie still. To create a home our family delights in dwelling within, stilling to let them laugh, stilling the water in the sink for dishes. To nurture growing human beings, slowing to teach, allowing the practice, pausing for the attempts, stoping to comfort in the messiness of learning; letting all else lie in wait for tomorrow.
When we measure by the things that last, a heart that is gentle, a voice that is patient, and sigh that is kind. And when we pause for growing ones, learning the curve of life, living in now. This is when we never fail to measure up. This is when we heal the hurting within.
“With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may count you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may fulfill every good purpose of yours and every act prompted by your faith.” 2 Thessalonians 1:11