With and Without

NicNac and His Girls

Our favorite rooster died yesterday.

My husband and I loved this rooster, NicNac (son of RicRac)! He was a protector, food-finder, and king of the harem. Spiritual lessons were brought to life by the antics of this noble king of the poultry realm. His strut was majestic. His duties were taken seriously and justly. Now, the yard is out of kilter for the feathered friends. All are at loose ends this morning. The little bantam rooster is now king. Quite a contrast of leaders. He thinks he's as majestic as the former king, but his lack of stature in height, weight, and girth is very evident. He's trying! He's all the hens have at the moment. Was NicNac taken for granted by his kingdom? "Without" their grand king NicNac, will they settle for the little rooster, ChooChoo, who is striving to be their "with" today?

How many times have I substituted another wanna-be, small king for my Grand, Almighty King? The wanna-be who makes me think I'm getting all the "withs" I want, but in the end it all leads to "withouts". And my Grand King who knows the "withs" I need is taken for granted and the "withouts" are of my own making.

NicNac would lead his group to choice spots during the day. Choosing times for water, dusting, and resting from the climate elements. I watched him stand patiently while his harem nourished themselves around him. He'd peck at a morsel now and then, but his main duty was finding the food and then guarding his hens as they replenished their greater need than his of food, in order to produce their daily egg. NicNac's attentive duty over his "girls" was for "fruit" production. Sound familiar? NicNac's purpose for his harem was to bring all the "withs" they needed to sustain and produce life. Those times when hens were allowed to "set" on a collection of eggs, the result was a new hatching of chicks that bore the image of their Grand King. He produced life "with" his markings. His chicks were recognizable.

Thankfully, I don't have to worry about my Grand King never being near. I'll never be "without" Him. My questions through this incident is: "How aware am I of my King's constant Presence?" "Am I only grateful for His gifts and blessings, but not enough to love others, be the evidence of His markings, and be a humble display of Who's I am?"

I have to say humorously, I'm glad I don't have to lay an egg everyday! Soberly, I have to say that I should be producing fruit daily as a result of all the "withs" that My Grand King lavishes over me.

Parent Woundings

My Children on Their Wedding Days

Sitting at the lunch table, bantering about the day's activities, I was pained by a parent.

Doesn't matter how old I get, I still seek my mother and father's approval. Honestly, more my father than my mother. Why? For me, the answer is, my father is the one who has been less engaged in my life. I think another answer is a spiritual yearning planted in our spirits for our Heavenly Father. Our earthly fathers are our first contact and context in a deep yearning for a bigger-than-life protector, a need to feel wanted, a tangible feel of security, verbal soothing and encouragement, someone who first loves us. My father has fallen short on several of these aspects. I'm not saying that he is a bad dad; quite the contrary. He is a good father with failings. Are any of us perfect parents? Am I? Easy answer.

But this still does not relieve the wounding. It was not done purposely. But it was a showing of the truth of his heart. I have three siblings. I am the oldest. My brother is next, than two sisters. My brother, younger sister, and myself have felt and seen the preference in words and deeds toward our middle sister. It's not her fault for being the "golden child" and we have had to remind ourselves of that over the years! Is there a reason? I've asked myself that question many times. I have disappointed my parents with some of my choices. I have not met their expectations in some areas. My position of birth, as the oldest and being a daughter, has some bit of understanding. In my father's era, sons were a premium. They took over the farm/business. So when I was born, I was not the wanted son. It was also that way with each of my sisters. I was almost twenty when my youngest sister was born so I heard the disappointment in my father's voice when he called and said that "it" was a girl. I rejoiced! Even with the preference for a son, my middle sister became the "apple of the eye." I don't think I'll ever know why.

Putting this question to the Lord, forgiving my father's unintended, callous yet revealing remarks, I know that the deficiency that I feel is not valid. My Father's assurance of my worth is soothing. His love-design, earthly parent-placement, era-placement, geographical-placement were/are His purposed intentions for me. His beginning process of making something beautiful of my life--for His glory. I have a flawed earthly father, yet he is a Godly man. I have a perfect Heavenly Father, and I am a flawed earthly daughter. I too strive to be Godly. I am consoled that He loves perfectly, unconditionally, and impartially.

It's hard to "put out there" those parent/child deep feelings, questions, thoughts that many say should be kept to one's self. Those questions that do breed from parental feet of clay. "Not sure what to do with" feelings, hurts, observations are pushed to the darkest corners of our souls. Over the years they are mixed with the yeast of life, and when least expected we have a double or triple batch of bitterness, resentment, and unforgiveness.

I made excuses, joked about, said they didn't matter. That's how I handled them on the outside. I didn't realize I was adding yeast to a new batch of grievances. I didn't want to feel or seem like a traitor to the family if I would mention the rising dough of offenses. Fear of saying out loud what I had pushed to the corners of my soul was another ingredient to the ever increasing batch of turmoil. I know I don't have to spell out all the questions because I'm not the only one in these parent/child dilemmas. Besides, some questions do not have answers; or more poignantly, answers that I will not like!

Over the last few months, Father, has been guiding me in our intimate relationship through the corners of my soul; He designed my corners for Himself--ONLY. Without Him, my soul's corners are dark. Ripe for brewing. I've pulled those questions out of the corners and have asked Him to guide me to the answers if it's good for my spiritual growth and walk. Or, give it to Him and let Him carry that burden and woundedness. Most of the time I am to extend grace, forgiveness, and then, let the Spirit bring Light and wellness to my yeast-free corners.

I have to say that this weekend's wounding is a lesson of keeping a dialogue open with my own children. Being an earthly parent is full of pitfalls, potholes, and prickly situations. I, too, have wounded my children. My lesson's homework is to make it easier for my three children to express my hurting of them. I want them to feel that I am approachable. Isn't that one of God's most wonderful attributes as a Heavenly Father--He yearns for our approach? His perfect love draws us. I want my children to feel His love through me--I yearn their approach.

UNDONE Gifts # 253 & #254

Watering the Gerber Daisies

Extraordinary experience and gift this morning! Such a reverent, Holy Spirit-presenced moment. The Triune God was smiling at the gift He gave. And I am (as one in the scriptures once said), UNDONE!

While watering my newly planted flowers along my front sidewalk, I heard the sound of fluttering wings. I know this sound. When you turn your head to the direction of the sound, the hum will disappear just as fast as the moment it takes to shift the neck and the focus of eye. My motion isn't quick enough to spy this delicate creature, but I still hear it's presence. I keep spraying and suddenly it comes near the flowers that I am watering. I stand motionless. It flutters around the flowers but does not drink the nectar. It zooms away. I proceed to another section of flowers; where the Gerber Daisies nestle near the Azalea bushes. (I am only four feet away from the bushes and two feet away from the flowers, and less than a foot from the protective fencing; which keeps my chickens out. I give this measurement because of the extraordinary encounter to come!) My little friend, the Ruby Throated Hummingbird, hovers beneath the rainfall of "gentle shower" setting of my garden house nozzle! I am spell-bound!

I hold my breath. He hovers and inspects a cluster of leaves on the Azalea bush that has a small puddle of water in it's yet unfurled center leaves. He lights on the outer broad petal and begins his bath. I continue to spray and watch in awe. He spreads his tiny thin wings and flips the water under them, over his head, through his colored breast feathers. He ducks his head and splatters water around his body. Spreads his minute tail feathers and he then gyrates his little body like a dog wringing out the water from it's fur. He flutters a bit under the spray and then it happens. He flies toward me and sits on the fence in front of me. I could have touched him. I'm sure my breath did! He sits unafraid near me and I watch him go through his "air-toweling".  He swipes his head under each wing. He flutters each wing to fling off the excess water. Another shaking to fluff his feathers. He sits. Head moving side to side, up and down. Looking at me. His iridescent feathers a testament to His Maker's gift of color, texture, and detail. The deep red of his throat is a striking contrast to the emerald green of his body. Tinges of black on his wings and tail feather--just as a period is at the end of a sentence.  No words are needed in front of this period. This extraordinary moment that I have witness speaks volumes.

The Small "Bird Bath" Leaf Cluster

The telling of this gift experience doesn't capture it. How do you capture moonbeams, sunlight, shadows? You see them and their other-world touches all around us. My 7:00 am watering of planted flowers, a morning chore, turned into a sanctuary. His glory, His majesty, His holiness touched all around me and I was in The Presence.

The little Hummingbird flew and came back at least three to four times. I think he was getting drinks of water. He'd fly under my spray and then dart to near-by trees. I could not hold the spray any longer. I closed my eyes and worshipped, spoke out a praise, and through a thick voice of emotion spoke my thanks and gratitude for this extraordinary moment filled with a multi-faceted gift. So many poignant spiritually packed thoughts are in this gift. I'll savor mine.

I write in my "One Thousand Gifts Journal":
 #253 "Most extraordinary gift--Hummingbird takes a bath in the spray of my water hose as I water my flowers--7:00am."
#254 "Hummingbird not afraid of me."

My scripture verse that touched me this morning before going out to do my watering chore:  "In the shadow of Your wings I will make my refuge..." Psalm 57:1

I have to say, Hummingbirds have now moved to my favorite bird category. God smiles, I'm sure they are all His favorite, but not as favorite as I am to Him. He is proving it to me over and over again. I am UNDONE.