Join- An invitation I could not resist

I follow the paper trail of cut up pieces of paper across the kitchen. . . into the living room. . . and I can feel my heart start to beat faster and my cheeks are getting flushed. I just finished cleaning up the house on my Friday cleaning day and there are tiny scraps and pieces of paper scattered all over our main living space. Somewhere deep down the anger begins to boil up as I see there is a definite trail that, if I follow, will lead me to the paper cutting criminal. Within a few seconds I can clearly discern that the paper trail leads into my daughters room and I follow it. Her door, left open just a crack allows me to see in and I can see her with paper and scissors still busily cutting something. I take a deep breath and intend to go in and discuss this mess and a million other things and as I take a deep breath in and prepare to open her door, the Holy Spirit nudges me or I guess I should say kicks me in the gut. I pause and I watch her, she is absolutely beautiful to me!

She is fully in imaginary play with her paper dolls and the beautiful dresses she has made out of paper and decorated for them. The innocence and beauty in her play chokes me up. Her paper dolls are going on a tea party picnic, this much I catch onto. I am caught between should I sneak away from her door or should I stay and watch her a few minutes more but before I can decide, she sees me through the crack and with this amazing invitation she invites me to join in and play paper dolls with her. My initial anger has long been forgotten now, the “tidied up” house can wait. . . my beautiful daughter wants to play with ME and I don’t know how long these days will last. Some day there will be no 7 year old girl cutting out paper dresses and playing imaginary Samantha and Kirsten games in our house. Yes, today the paper trail led me to something much better than a tidied up house. . . it led me to join in my daughters sweet little world. And I am so very thankful for the invite!

Stretching. . .

It’s midnight and here I sit on the soft new carpet in my son’s bedroom watching him sleep. Watching him breath in and out so peacefully and silently. It’s hard to believe that this bundle of energy and joy and spit and fire can look so peaceful, so silent, so angelic when he sleeps. The silence is almost deafening here in this room that held so much “Loud” today.

I was ushered here tonight, summoned you might say. Maybe because of the events of the day, maybe because of the state of my heart, maybe because the Holy One called me but here I sit, with tears streaming down my face stretching out my son before the only one who could possibly love him more than I do. I fear things for him. I never thought that at the grand age of 4 that I would be consulting a play therapist for ideas and ways to help my 4 year old process grief and loss. I fear for the long term repercussions for my third culture kids- all three of them. My heart breaks for them and for the life of transition stress that they live, but today, or tonight I should say, my 4 year old son is heavy on my heart and it is because of this that I feel summoned to sit here, to pray prayers of blessing and prayers of protection, prayers of covering and prayer for wisdom for him. This is not the first time the Lord has summoned me to stretch out this little body before Him and bathe him in prayer, and it probably won’t be the last, but it is what He has asked of me tonight. So it is here I sit. . . and I stretch!