Little Deaths

We've had two rainy days in a row, and I am in heaven. The cool, overcast tones mixed with the warmth of the brown, golden, and burnt orange hues of late fall make me feel peaceful and a bit melancholy all at the same time. And, I love it.

My heart is so full. The leaves are, for the most part, dead. Most have already fallen. But, I see beauty in their death because I have faith, great faith that says, deep within me, that somewhere in the dormant death of winter there. lives. life. And, come spring, death will bring forth from somewhere deep within itself, beautiful, vibrant, amazing, fresh, and colorful life!! The process cycles over and over, and I am astounded year and year.

And, it is my prayer that God is doing the same work in me.

May my soul be His garden.

Little deaths. I am a selfish creature if ever He created one. I love peace and the calm life. I was the baby of the family, quite doted on, really. And, then, I grew and married. I prayed to be selfless, to put others first, but given the choice, the opportunity, I still wanted things my way. Erik was easy to be selfless with because he has always been so selfless with me. So, I gave, and he gave, and we were very happy. Enter Joshua. . .

Suddenly, someone wanted me to get up with him at night, every night, and several times at night. He woke up early, interrupting my quiet time. He cried forcing me to cut conversations short. I didn't realize it then, but the process of death was beginning.

And, it continued. . . two children, then three, then unexpected number four and now five. . . What is alone time? It has been so long. Slowly through each child, each phase, each year, I have died little deaths. From the death of attempting to look like I have it all together, to the death of my little ones are perfect angels who never do wrong, to the death of superficial peace ~ the kind that comes from a quiet, calm household, to the death of a clean, organized home and car, to the death of time alone with my husband, to the death of being able to go and do as I please, to the death of my young girl body and the time to primp and fix up, and on and on. . .

Little deaths. But, when I think about it all, do you know what I see? I see that the things that are dying are meaningless in the grand scheme. And, deep within this dormant state, where I am nestled in at home not out and about like I used to be, there is life growing in my soul. And, the things that are growing are not meaningless. No, they are lasting. So, these little deaths are precious to me, and though I fight them tooth and nail, I am thankful beyond words for how they are shaping me. The patience that God gives allowing me to teach and train my young men all day without a break. The peace that only He could give that allows me to be stirring chili in a kitchen full of wild indians and feel so blessed, so complete. The joy that comes when I hear the pitter patter of feet on the steps from an early riser waking just as I drink my first sip of coffee, quiet time not happening ~ at least not in the old sense of the words. Now quiet times, I realize, can happen all day off and on, as God speaks and I listen.

I am different because of these little deaths. Though they are hard and at times I hate them, they have made me stronger, better, and, most importantly, closer to my Strength Giver. So, as I look out the window and gaze upon the fallen leaves, I pray that God will continue to be my Master Gardner. And, I have faith, deep in the depths of my soul, that one day, one fine, fine day, spring will come and maybe, just maybe, beautiful fruit will burst forth from my soul!!!