chipping away

I am just going to give you fair warning right now and let you know that I have an ice encased car I need to defrost and three school lunches I need to create out of left over chili, frozen ravioli and a bag of rotten grapes, but that my heart feels a little restless this morning and I am thinking if I just sort of throw it all out into a quick paragraph...the uneasiness and the disjointed thoughts...that maybe I will be able to go and scrape ice feeling a little bit more at peace.

And can I point out that yes, that entire first paragraph was all once sentence. Pray for my editor at Our Sunday Visitor. She has her work cut out for her.

Ok, so the first reading today? Kings 11:4-13? Have you read it? Because I did. And it scared the crap out of me. For two reasons. For starters, King Solomon had God appear to him twice. GOD APPEARED TO HIM TWICE. And yet as time went on, he began to adore foreign gods. What's up with Solomon? Short term memory? GOD APPEARED TO YOU DUDE. And the Lord's response was not that He would deprive Solomon of the kingdom during his lifetime, but rather, IT IS HIS SON WHOM HE WILL DEPRIVE.

I might have dropped dead after reading that.

I am dead.

I died.

Kids, make your own lunches...your mother is dead.

And I am just thinking about my own faith life...my own encounters with Christ, that while they are not documented appearances so to say, bolts of lightening or a booming voice from the sky, they are none the less, absolute glimpses of the Lord showing up in my life and rescuing me...and yet...everyday, all day, can I truly say that Jesus is at the center of my heart? And if He does not remain in the center of my heart, in good times and in bad, then what IS in the center of my heart? If not God, than something else, right? And what does this mean for the faith passed on to my children? Am I passing on a "Jesus slightly pushed to stage left" heart?

I try hard to demonstrate a good faith life to my family. I am a horrible gardener, I kill every plant...I know...I can't cook and I hate to garden...what kind of woman am I?..... but these seeds of faith are ones I plant tirelessly. Unless...I am weary. Unless...anxiety and stress and worry creep in and push Jesus slightly out of the center....unless I open another bill or letter from a creditor...unless I can't afford a haircut and I really, really need one...unless....I have to make lunch or dinner because somebody out there came with up this idea that we should feed our family everyday....and then...then, I am not so adoring of my God. Then, for sure, my children hear the fear and the doubt and the discouragement and the let down in my voice.

I am not convinced this makes sense to you, but I warned you right?

I don't believe I serve other idols until I realize that something else has occupied my heart. A sure tell sign is the restlessness that shows up and you have no idea why. Or you do know why, but you can not rid yourself of it. And I am wondering if things like disbelief in a situation, sorrow over a loved one, a circumstance that has sucked every bit of life out of you so that you do not even have scraps to give to others...I wonder if these can be my idols? Are these my lesser thirsts? Not the situation, but rather, my response....the unbelief? The refusal to accept? Is it my uncertainty of just about everything that is telling Jesus to move from the spot light and stand stage left? Is it my "Where is your God?" mentality when I decide that God is not showing up nearly fast enough, and so clearly this is going to have to be all up to me...once again?

Has worry become my idol?

Because Lent is less than one week away I need to figure out what God is asking me to do for Him. For His Kingdom. For my family. I want Lent to be fruitful because last year? Last year was a freak show. Honestly, Easter came and I was all like, "What? He is risen? How?"

I don't know. I need to pray more about this. All I know is I am on my third cup of coffee and it is not nearly enough, and in my mind I keep seeing a red heart with Jesus in the middle, and it is time to figure out lunches and scrape the ice off of my car. Which sounds awful...the ice part...actually, the lunch part too....but mostly the ice....but is it just me or is there something incredibly satisfying about chipping away at the hardened surface, peeling back the layers, removing the dangerous blindness until the glass is clean?

Beneath the ice I know Jesus is there. Dead center. I just need to do some chipping away.