the road to compassion

I had an amazing weekend. I got to go "home" to hang out with my Mom and sisters. There's this thing I used to do before Tate came home to live with us, it's called singing. I have NO idea why I took such a long break from it. I think it was the fault of logistics at first. Life was a nightmare of transition with a new baby and worship team call times were complicated to think through for finding child care, but then...I think it just became easier to keep using that as an excuse instead of being brave and jumping back in. That time is over. I've currently been trying to utilize every opportunity to get my "chops" back. The cliche of "if you don't use it you lost it" is truer than I ever realized. I got a little of it back this past weekend singing at my home church at an evening designed to simply worship.

I was reminded again how much I am loved by the Father. If I'm being honest, I have absolutely no clue. There is no human love comparable to the love He offers us. None. This Love spread the earth upon the waters, that made the great lights, the sun to govern day, and the moon and stars at night, to him who struck down the firstborn of Egypt and brought Israel out from among them with a mighty hand and outstretched arm. (Psalm 136) That guy. HIS love endures forever. His love is the one that wraps us in the truth that He would have set His plan in motion exclusively for us if we were the only one on earth. We can't possibly get that truth in it's fullness in today's culture. I'm striving to comprehend it. I'm hoping to let it soak into these tired bones. I know that it can change me. It can help me to live differently. It's sacrifice was too great to do anything else. This Love, this Compassion won't be quiet. How can I? I will sing of it to whomever will listen!

When I wrote the chapter "A Road to Compassion" in A Tale of Mending, I was just beginning to grapple with what this kind of love looked like. In that time of my life it looked like the decision to be vulnerable and ask for help. I was devastated after four miscarriages. I felt pretty worthless. My body would not cooperate with my heart's desire to have children. I felt forgotten by God. The tears were ALWAYS just under the surface. It took very little to set them off. I know there were some hormonal things going on there too, but it was more than that. It was deep. The pain that was bubbling out was primal. Thus my need for help. I reached out to a great listener who directed me to a great counselor. I had to humble myself and start from the beginning and recount everything to that counselor, but it was worth it. We began to sift through the events of my life, looking for God's hand of compassion amidst the lies of the Enemy. I had no idea how long this road towards healing would actually take to walk, this step was just the beginning.

"The wise in heart are called discerning, and gracious words promote instruction." Proverbs 16:21