“A SOFT PLACE TO FALL”

I spent part of my morning just now scrolling through the link to a church I used to attend, one I left under duress. I thought that I would like to visit there, just show up out of the blue.

No reason, just because.

Or, so, I thought.

But, Abba, is showing me there was reason.

Wrong reason.

No, it’s not wrong to want to see old friends, to visit and remember, as long as it’s for the right reasons.

Mine isn’t.

No, I want a soft place to fall toady.

I am ashamed to think that I would sacrifice my Communion time with my Lord, in my Home He has me in here, for this. For arms of old and love gone by rather to be desired more than Mass, more than the gift that the Eucharist is to me.

But, I do.

I want to belong in the way that I have belonged for long. Old connections, remember this and how about when we did that, kind of way.

A soft place to fall, this is the way a blogger describes her home for taking in unwanted, abused children. That the battle still rages for them but bringing them into their home gives them a soft place to fall.

Abuse never gives a soft landing, healing doesn’t much either most of the time.

I fall on face, flat and hard so often

Did lots this last few weeks.

I feel bruised and beaten, weary and worn, I won’t lie.

I am tired

I want to go home

I want daddy to make it all alright and momma to hold me

I want to fall and give up standing

I want to yield

Point fingers at those in the past, “You left me, after promising to help me.”

Thing is, that is all the pain talking, the loneliness seeping out and the past feeding now

So, I won’t visit these friends today, that would just be a band-aid

Instead, I will heed my best Friends call,

“Are you tired? Worn out? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

Matt 11: 28-30 MSG

My Jesus call.

I will come to Him, fall into His gift of the Eucharist, of His life for mine.

I will see Him upon the cross and know, He too desired, then and there, to go Home to Heaven

To fall into the arms of the angels right off that cross rather than bear it,

He didn’t yield and neither shall I, because of Him.

Momma Mary, she took Him off that cross so lovingly, gently and full of sorrow for all He endured.

She will hold me too, today, if I just ask and let her.

So, I will visit my friends, sometime, but when I can with a right heart.

Simply as friends.

Now, I must go and sit awhile with my Papa, God, that my heart be right when I go to Mass soon.

Home there, to Him, His presence and keeping, His arms sufficient, my present home the one He is building.

I am home, always, everywhere, with my God.

I fall into Him alone.

In His mercy and grace He always to catch me.

“Greater is He who is in you (me) than he (Satan’s tool, false belonging) who is in the world.” I John 4:4 KJV

MOMMA MARY

I read this poem recently while browsing other’s blogs. I actually read it the day I wrote ?, oh how it stirred the longing of that writing to even deeper desire, longing, want. It felt as though a fire had been lit, one of give me, please… I need and want love…. now, now, now.

At first I was even a bit angry, “Why, God, would you show me this and intensify my struggle? Not good timing, Abba, not at all,” to be my inner ranting.  How childish of me, for Papa, God, He always has the timing just as it should be. A loving parent responds with what is best for their child, not what their child thinks is best for them.

So, with my loving Father doing just that, purpose came from “His timing.”

Read on and see how tender-hearted He was unto me in all my tantrums, “love me, anyone, for my Momma  didn’t”

 

A Child’s Angel

Once upon a time there was a child ready to be born.

So one day (s)he asked God:

They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow but how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?

Among the many angels, I chose one for you. She will be waiting for You and will take care of you.

But tell me, here in Heaven, I don’t do anything else but sing and smile, that’s enough for me to be happy.

Your angel will sing for you and will also smile for you every day. And you will feel your angel’s love and be happy.

And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me, if I don’t know the language that men talk?

Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will

ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak.

And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you?

Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray.

I’ve heard that on earth there are bad men. Who will protect me?

Your angel will defend you even if it means risking its life.

But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore.

Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way for you to come back to me, even though I will always be next to you.

At that moment there was much peace in Heaven, but voices from earth could already be heard, and the child in a hurry asked softly:

Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell me my angel’s name

Your angel’s name is of no importance, you will call your angel:

Mommy

(Author Unknown)

 

Do you feel it? The sweetness of these penned words, of all our hearts are meant to hold at the simple thought or whisper of, “Mommy?”  This poem lingered upon my heart most of that day and into the next. I simply didn’t know what to do with it, I yearned for that word to be mine to claim, even now with my Mother dead, gone. It is simply the way of a child’s heart to do so, hence, I left that with Abba while asking Him to fulfill this craving.

My how He did.

While at our ladies church meeting, CCW, God drew near is such an intimate way, one you may not understand as being possible, yet, is. He shared His Mother, Mary, my Lord and Saviors Mommy. As we recited the closing Hail Mary’s, I was drawn to look upon the statue of her. Christ to fill me with what He felt for her as His Mother. To share with me what it was to be loved of her, cared for and wanted, despite all it would mean to her heart. She kept it all in her heart, loved knowing her heart would be pierced as well. “How I heard God whisper, “Let Mama Mary love you. She understands pain and longing, she desires to hold you tight and love you right. Be at peace this night upon your bed, tucked in of Her and watched over of Me.”

So, I did. I spent time in prayer that night, sitting with in the arms of the Sweetest Mother ever, opening myself to the Holy Spirit to connect us, to lead me emotionally to where God would take me. I sat with love that night, and all the days since.

Slowly the need to leave, as I realized,

“I am loved…

I am home…

I have a Mother…

her name is Mary.”