A Childhood Redeemed

Psalm 116: 6-9 and 12-14 – The Passion Translation

So I’ve learned from my experience that God protects the childlike and humble ones. For I was broken and brought low, but he answered me and came to my rescue! Now I can say to myself and to all “Relax and rest, be confident and serene, for the Lord rewards fully those who simply trust in him.” God has rescued my soul from death’s fear and dried my eyes of many tears. He’s kept my feet firmly on his path and strengthened me so that I may please him and live my life before him in his life-giving light. So now, what can I ever give back to God to repay him for the blessings he’s poured out on me? I will lift up his cup of salvation and praise him extravagantly for all he’s done for me. I will fulfill the promise I made to God in the presence of his gathered people.

And all of a sudden, I am young again.

Free, Dancing, Singing, Playing, Laughing. 

Rediscovering a childhood I left behind years ago when the enemy aimed to steal my little girl joy, my Father in heaven wants to redeem every moment I felt I was facing the world alone.

When I was 10 years old, my sister got really sick. All of a sudden, there was a lot of fear and drama and late nights and scary days and long hospital stays and parent whispers and staying with friends and locking my door at night and Mom and Dad sad and confusion and heaviness. A weight a 10 year old was never meant to carry. A weight none of us was ever meant to carry.

I can remember deciding at that time in my life that I would need to take care of myself. It was clear that my sister would need a lot and was taking up a lot of space in our home and in everyone’s hearts. I could do it. I could be a big girl.

And so the story goes, good grades, mature, college, big girl job, nice car, nice house, successful career. I was an independent woman. I had learned to rely on no one else but me.

Though the Lord has been carefully polishing this idea off of my heart, some of it is still there. Somewhere it still hurts.

But in my first week of the race, God has been gifting me with an introduction to childlike freedom that has swept over my soul like a warm hug. The kind you get from your Dad, when he picks you up under your arms and lets you cling to him. The big, strong kind. The safe one.

Tearing up as I write this, I know that this will be one of the many ways the Lord shows me that he sees me this year. And how we all long to be seen.

God has infused a theme of childlike joy in my heart. It’s a story that must be told, because we all need a warm hug from our Father from time to time, don’t we?

 

Jumping off the Jetty:

There is a pier in Coff’s Harbor that juts out into the ocean right next to a harbor that overlooks a beautiful island. It’s a local tradition of sorts to jump off of it into the ocean. As initiation to our squad, our host encouraged this sort of thing, of course.

Before Christ, I would call my self cautious, skeptical, worried. Nowhere, no how was I going to be jumping off of a 40 foot anything.

But this week, as I literally frolicked up to the jetty with my new friends. I was nervous with excitement and energy. They were cheering me on and I felt the urge to try something that scared me.

It seemed like the perfect way to say “Yes Lord, I’m jumping into this year with you. I trust you! You make me brave!”

And so I carefully ducked under the railing and stood on the edge looking at my friends below. They were yelling, cheering, excited, full of confidence in me.

We could see sea turtles swimming and we even had a dolphin come up (that was for sure a sign from the Lord to have fun and jump in.)

My knees were shaking, my swallows were big. My flesh was afraid. But there was a voice inside of me that knew I was going to do it. All the counting down from the crowd below was really a bust, it wasn’t helping my nerves at all. And then my friend Lauren, like a metaphor for Jesus, called out calmly, “Lindsey, look at my face, focus on me. Don’t look down. Just jump in, focus on me.” Now if that wasn’t the Lord speaking through one of his children, then I don’t know what is.

The metaphor here is just really that good. Each time the Lord has asked me to do something scary, I’ve been blessed. Every time he has reached his hand out over the scary water and said jump, I’ve winced, swallowed big and maybe even shut an eye. The beauty is that not once, not a single time has he let me fall. His word is truth. His word brings life. He keeps his promises.

So like a child full of faith in what my Dad says, I listened to the still small voice, looked at the face of my sister, and jumped. Jumped into the ocean and jumped into a year with Him.

 You make me brave, Lord.

 

A heart full of song:

A couple of days ago, we were in worship and I was singing my heart out, big smile, hands up, lost in the face of my Father and his goodness.

Like a movie reel in my mind, a quick daydream, he took me back to a memory I barely knew I had.

Somewhere around 9 years old – singing in the chapel – solo song – little dress – bow in my hair – on the stage. The first line of the song was “Let none of God’s wonderful works, keep silent night or morning.” That’s all of the song I can remember. The Lord let me sit in that for a moment and then quietly said “I loved it when you sang to me then, and I love it when you sing for me now.”

I used to love singing when I was little but when I decided to grow up, my song got kind of sucked out of me and my confidence in my voice went with it.

It’s been years since I’ve felt comfortable singing in front of anyone. Years. And only the Lord knows how much I actually love to sing and only he knows the desire of my heart to sing for him.

Two nights ago, out of nowhere and completely unexpected, my friends Shea and Brent and Mary Grace and I started looking up songs and singing them. Just about as campfire as you can imagine, we sang and Brent strummed and we let our voices band together in harmony enough to raise a few eyebrows. There was something there. I loved every moment of it.

I’d have to write a whole blog on the joy that is Shea and Mary Grace and the friendship God has blessed me with in those two but another cherry on top is that Mary Grace is has a lovely harmony looking for a solid melody in us. Our voices are all the more confident together. 

I would have been satisfied had that evening been the only time I got to sing with those two, but like usual, the Lord had more.

This week we had our first day of ATL (Ask the Lord ministry). We got together as a group of about 40 to pray about what the Lord was guiding us to do. Brent, Shea, Mary Grace and I all had a vision of the previous night of us singing and we felt the Lord was calling us to public worship.

Now let me just tell you that we are not a fully formed anything. We were just playing around with a few songs on the guitar and some iphone lyrics. So as we walked out near the water to “perform” I was quickly reminded that I had no idea where any of this would go. 

But isn’t that life by the Holy Spirit? A total adventure.

We decided to climb to the top of the island to pray over the city below and ask God to guide our steps, then we would go down near the water and start singing.

Before we could even do that, a man intercepted us and began a friendly chatter. We learned quickly that his family had come to the island for a memorial service for a family member. How sweet. A few minutes in, he invited us to sing at the service for their family. He explained many of his family members were unbelievers and he thought our presence would be a blessing.

I’m learning to be wildly interruptible. Like a child, eager to leave one toy to play with another, I will follow the creative winds of my Father. Not my will, not my plans, but yours Lord. I love yours.

And so we sang, and it was messy at times but we ended in a group song of Amazing Grace and the crowd told us the songs we chose reminded them of their loved one.

We shared Jesus. We shared our love for Jesus. We became vessels that day. Inadequate, unsure, but open handed, obedient and ready to see our Father guide our steps.

Thank you Jesus that you redeem my dreams, my childhood passions and you’ve resurrected my heart and filled it with your song. Praises to you are all I care to sing these days and as I lift my hands and close my eyes and swim in your spirit, I pray you’ll use it. I pray the light you put in me shines.

 

Learning to Play:

Over the course of my adult years, I’ve noticed that my heart is attracted to friends with a lightness, a playfulness, an openness to adventure.

Longing to absorb some of their joy through osmosis, I’ve been a moth to their flame. Sweet Rylee comes to heart and mind.

But there has always been something keeping me from really letting my hair down. That voice in my head saying, “Grow up,” “Button up,” “Stay secure,” “Don’t let your guard down,” “Don’t look silly,” “Don’t be naïve.” That voice that has kept a metaphorical pencil skirt around my waist tight and upright ready for my best professional face.

This week, the Lord has asked me to cut off the pencil skirt and replace it with flowing linen. He’s asked me to let the wind blow my hair, to jump into big waves in the ocean, to pick up starfish, to laugh till my voice falls out, to hug 40 times a day, to be so silly, I keep a table giggling into the evening, to dance (sometimes poorly), to discover – be curious – be light – be needy – be theirs – be His. Just be.

And its friends who are youthful and wide smiled and deep eyed and fluffy haired and oh so loving – who have quite literally grabbed my hand and heart and asked me to walk in Christ’s freedom with them. Friends who see me and know me because the Lord has downloaded things on their hearts that I can’t see. Friends that tell me I don’t have to carry the burden of being the mature or mothering one – they want to carry me too. They want to hold the parts that hurt and let me hold tight back. Friends with knowing glances. Friends with deep wells. Friends who remind me to rest, relax, smile, breathe.

I am learning to play. I am learning lightness. I am learning to enjoy the gifts of the wind and the waves and the flowers and the trees and the sunrises. I am resting in creation. I am wide eyed. I am open hearted.

And I see you Lord in all of it. I see your protection and grace and love washing over me in literal waves. I see you asking me to rest. I see you lavishly loving me and showing me your character as you prep and prepare my heart for the hardships still unknown in countries that will feel far far from home.

Protect my heart. My soul thirsts for the love only you can give. My heart longs to be known, only by you. I believe your gifts are more precious than any I could imagine. I trust you with my dreams. I give my life to you Lord. This love is pure. This love is childlike.