To be known

Several weeks ago, I went to a women's event at my church. I hadn't 'registered', and I wasn't "supposed" to  be there. To be honest, initially I was only going if a friend of mine was coming down from another city, about 45 minutes away. It had been a long while since we had reunited, and it felt like a good venue to catch up.

But that was hardly the outcome of my night.

My friend couldn't make it, so I settled with the fact I would be going alone. I came in the doors just as the clock turned to 7:00. The event just started and door prizes were the first to happen. I sat in the very back of the room, hoping to see familiar faces or at least some friendly eyes. Neither occurred. Still, I sat and tried to engage.

Finally, worship began and the room filled with honor through song to the Lord. I literally had to tell myself at one point to just, "let go, and meet with Jesus." I am sure we all go through those times, but it doesn't make me feel any less guilty. It was partly trying to shrug off the duties and responsibilities of the day, part guilt for not being at home with my family, and part distraction as I hoped I'd see a friend or at least acquaintance.

I found myself occasionally still gazing around the room. I tested how far my eye sight could take me until I recognized someone... anyone... just so I could at least say I left the room that night having seen "so and so" when my husband would ask. Nothing.

It was then I started examining my heart and where my thoughts were taking me. What was I here for? What was I really here for? That's when I heard Him speak to my heart. And even in that moment I felt relieved and amazed that I could distinguish his voice above my own.

The thought that crossed my mind right before he whispered to me was this... "I am in this sea of women looking for someone I know, and I know no one." Gently he said, "You know me. I am right here."

{Scribbling the whisper from God on an old grocery list crumpled in my purse.}

It broke me.

Then, right there in worship we started to sing this song and the lyrics resonated with my heart as my cheeks were glazed with tears.





"...There is no power in hell or any who can stand before the power and the presence of the Great I AM. Who is worthy? None beside Thee. God Almighty. Great I Am...."

I was standing in the presence of God Almighty, yet all I could think about was myself. Even still, he met with me. He wooed me unto himself. He spoke to me despite all of the voices of doubt, worry, and anxiety I had floating around in my head.

I left that evening pondering the precious love the Father has for us and how he meets us in times we feel so unworthy. But, I also left pondering how we as humankind have the innate desire to simply be known.

How many times have we walked into a room hoping to recognize another, or be recognized? Actually,  I am not even talking about that in a "hey, I know that lady" kind of way, or "oh look, there's Susie!" But I mean, really known. I'm talking about true friendship. Relationship. The act of knowing and being known. The beautiful mess of vulnerability, openness, raw conversations, real responses, and loving despite it all.

I've been pondering real friendship as I examine where I am in life and where I want to be. Of course, this lead me to thinking about God.

How deeply did he want TO BE KNOWN that night? Every night? Every day? I am not talking today about how God knows us. Of course he knows us. He made us. He delights in us. He loves us despite it all. But what about us? What about me? Do I really know the heart of God? Am I engaging in deep real conversations and am I willing to hear and accept his real responses?

Needless to say, the evening I was not expecting... the evening I was not 'signing up for' literally or figuratively has left me with much to consider and much to take to heart.

"put the seat down"... a metaphor for life

I better apologize while I have your attention for bringing potty talk on to this blog. But, I can't help but sift through the brain activity that happens as I mother my children.

We are potty training our two-year-old right now. I was cleaning the bathroom and made my round to the toilet. There is nothing pretty about this scene, but it did get me to thinking of days that lie ahead. The image of my 'one day' 4-year-old son came to my mind and a picture of me reminding him to "put the seat down," as he left the bathroom. My mind then traveled to a time of him as a teenager and me not having to remind him but instead telling him, "Thanks for putting the seat down. Your wife will thank you."

I suppose silly things cross my mind in the midst of mundane things such as bathroom responsibilities, but this metaphor has stayed with me through the day. You are probably asking, "what does a toilet seat have to do with life?" Well, it's simple really. It's about responsibility.

As a woman, I can think of countless times I've had to close the lid on a toilet that some guy had (perhaps inadvertently) never closed. It's gross. It's annoying. It's just...rude.

Then I started to think about how in our first year of marriage my husband quickly ascribed to the fact that putting the seat down was something of ...well, a service... to his new wife.

Really, it's true though. There's nothing sweet or kind about leaving something undone for the next in line. There's nothing attractive about someone that has expectations or the 'right to be served' attitude. As much as I want the best for my children, I also don't want life served to them on a silver platter, with a side of arrogance, if you please.

Let me be clear now, this post isn't really about men and toilet seats. No, not at all. It's about leaving things better than you found them. Some times that may mean a bathroom, or maybe a kitchen.
Other times it might mean a life struggling to find hope and meaning.

I'm speaking to myself when I say it's time to stop thinking someone else will do it. Why can't we accept the fact that WE can do it? I think the most beautiful people are people of service. The people who love the unlovely. Of course, Mother Theresa comes to mind. I can see her face in my mind's eye and I have a smile on my face. She emulates beauty. She is far more lovely than any airbrushed face I've ever seen. I can only imagine how heaven would have rejoiced when she finally came home.

This video a friend posted on facebook has stuck with me this week. This speaks about personal responsibility, humility, and service more than mere words can. Let us be the ones who operate in kindness and servitude to others, not self. And by all means, "put the seat down."

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