Called to Communion

When life gets hectic or monotonous or frustrating, I find when I choose to take a mental break--to not allow my emotions (good or bad) steamroll me--I find some fragment of joy to lift me up.  Some of the memories clinging to my heartstrings this week happened when I knew I was not getting it right and others flowed smoothly in easy, overwhelming gladness.  I know, especially since we've moved to Vienna, that I've been seemingly hyped up on this joyful high.  But it's not Vienna--living here sure helps, but that's not the whole story. And I'm not actually constantly walking around with rainbows shooting out of my nether regions.  We are human.  We have trials and we struggle.  But the important thing is that we can pull ourselves out of our seeming problems and see the truth--that God is good--that He is faithful--that He has a plan greater than ourselves.  And mostly, we're just jazzed to be a part of it.

Even though I doubt I will ever be able to feel in a constant state of prayer, I still hear God  unmistakably--when my kids spontaneously show love and gratitude, when I hear the happy chorus of 'Papa! PAPA!!! Papa is home!!', when I decide to take a break from the frustration of cooking dinner with a whining kid attached to my leg and instead sit down on the floor of the kitchen to snuggle with my baby as long as she wants--it's then that I hear the song in my heart: God is good. 

Lately, I've been trying to focus more on how I worship outside of my role in a traditional church family.  I relish my moments of reflective solitude, but I feel God is leading me to explore an active worship of Him--how to sing His praises and hold Him in my heart as I go through the day. And in all this, I'm wondering what I should share--what I should share with my children, with my husband, with my friends and family and with my little ambiguous slice of internet on the blog.  I know for the present, my posts are intended to keep friends and family updated with our lives, but I've always written with the thought echoing in my mind that this is really for my children.  I want them to know their past--to know mine--and to know what we went through together from their Mama's honest perspective.

And my faith is honestly all there would be if you stripped my soul bare.

I'm not really sorry if I've lost anyone reading this, but I know while God is so intensely reforming my faith that it will feature prominently here as well. 

So, for anyone still left reading, I wanted to share a moment that has stuck with me--that has taken root in my soul.  I'm not sharing this because I'm proud of myself or because I think others should take note.  I'm sharing because I hope you will see Christ in my experiences, just as I have--that my life and every aspect of it will be a reflection of His awe-inspiring loving kindness.

Last night we took our traditional Friday night walk.  Not everything was perfect--we got stuck walking next to a group of American kids lamenting the city's 'most boring' sights and Bailey spilled chocolate ice cream all over me, but we did get to see our Vienna; to walk down her streets and to sit in the pews of Stephansdom--to listen to street performers and smell the horses patiently waiting to tour around the city.  When we got off our U-Bahn stop on the way home it was raining and the girls laughed hysterically as we ran all the way back to our apartment.  We dried off and put on jammies, talked about our favorite things and what we're thankful for.  We read a bible story about The Last Supper and as the girls were saying their prayers, my heart was silently whispering, begging for communion with God.  I bundled my girls in blankets and kissed them goodnight.  And as I walked through the rooms of our apartment, making sure everything was done for the night, I noticed a light on in the dining room.  As I walked in, I saw the table was bare, except for a single roll of bread left over from dinner and a half empty cup of wine...and I heard Him--He spoke to my heart.  Commune with Me.  So I did.  And it brought me to tears. 

As I look back through my week, I can see moments where He is calling to me, much in the same way: stop. focus. commune with me. 

I just pray I will hear.  And that my answer will unceasingly be: Yes.