Author: Jackie

Auntie, school teacher, serving God wherever He calls me.🤍 "Will you let me be your servant, let me be as Christ to you? Pray that I might have the grace to let you be my servant, too."

Contrast

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In the busy pace of life and living it, I haven’t taken much time lately to evaluate where I’m at.

So when the question was raised today, “How are you doing?”, I paused to reflect.

How can I describe the heart-full of emotional richness that swells in my chest?

My life is… a tangible awareness, in every aspect. I’m living more fully than ever before.

If you’ve ever been through a season of not wanting to exist in your reality another day, and you’ve reached the other side of that valley, then you know the incredible journey of falling in love with life again.

I catch myself smiling or laughing, with genuine joy bubbling up inside – and the feeling takes my breath away. I have to pause and silently acknowledge the gift of joy, after being without it.

Rose petals are so intricately delicate in my fingers… the grass is more lush than ever before beneath my feet… the setting sun commands me to stand still and watch in silent awe.

As the colour comes flooding back into my world, I want to absorb it ALL!

I don’t think I’ll ever be as carefree again, but that’s okay. Life is richer now.

Knowing the darkness of a long night allows you to fully appreciate the light of daybreak, because you can feel the contrast.

I never knew that the simple things of nature could become breathtaking, awe inspiring sights. But now, they bring tears to my eyes with a deep sort of aching joy in my chest, because as my eyes take in the beauty, my heart knows that not all in this world is beautiful.

But the sorrow of life is what teaches us the capacity to recognize and appreciate beauty.

It’s a gift hard won, fought for with many tears, but it takes life to a depth and height I would never return from.

And most exciting of all… If life here is so much more meaningful when earthly beauty is contrasted with our pain, I can’t fathom the fullness of joy that we’ll feel when heaven’s perfection erases all the brokenness we’ve only ever known!

What a glorious contrast. And so definitely worth holding on for!

The Deeper, Hidden Meaning of Sufganiyot

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First of all, a disclaimer: This post holds a high potential to make my writing instructor cringe.

It will not be edited, as the hour is late – more on the reason for that later – and I am currently halfway through a 4 day teachers’ conference.

(Think overload in all categories – socially, spiritually, intellectually, emotionally… even physically, if you drag yourself away from those wonderfully conversational strangers to engage in a few games of volleyball. Enough said.)

This exhausted human, now home in solitude, is apparently unable to break away from the endless flow of words I’ve been alternately drowning and delighting in.

Instead of listening to a talented speaker who has prepared an organized topic, I’m now the one needing to release words. Random words. 1:00 am words. Words that capture the essence of various, disconnected aspects of teachers’ week. And you, brave soul who has made it this far, are the recipient of it all.

So, here goes… I warned you!

Breakfast with strangers is a pleasantly awkward way to begin an event. Today (the second day) was slightly noisier than yesterday, however I am still grateful that no crunchy foods are on the breakfast menu. Yogourt and fresh berries are as silent as the people waking up at my table.

Singing from my heart with an auditorium full of humans who have now had their morning coffee is definitely awesome. I love looking across the group and seeing the beautiful diversity in God’s family… how we all share a common passion for Christian education, yet so many different walks of life are represented. It’s like a glimpse of the Bride of Christ to me – His kingdom is not limited to one people group or way of living out the Bible!

By mid-morning, my arm is tired from writing. Possibly I overdo note-taking… but when you place a pen in a teacher’s hand… especially if it has nice ink, well – it’s inevitable. The pages will be filled.

Lunch arrives. We’re all abuzz about our personality types, and specifically how to deal with personality clashes with students. How much do we unconciously frustrate our students, simply by being us? How can we as educators intentionally embrace the unique characteristics of each God-designed child in our class? Eventually, our plates are empty, and it’s time for some volleyball.

You can’t solve every school problem during teacher’s week, so when ideas have been sufficiently shared… postpone the issue. It won’t take care of itself; it will remain for further discussion… but those courts look inviting and the game is happening now.

After an afternoon of more instruction on teaching, my mind is wearily whirling. I should feel brilliantly equipped and inspired to teach – but I really feel like I just need my bed.

So I joined another conversation. Stayed there for a lengthy time, transitioned to someone’s backyard to continue socializing around a campfire…

Someone asked what our goals are for the coming year, since we’re receiving this training. My response? “I had specific goals, before this. Now they’re crushed under the weight of awareness that I have so much to improve in!” (I know myself, though. Those goals will revive with more passion than ever after this week.)

After many more random topics had been covered, and my mind journeyed in several more abstract directions, my car and I journeyed home. To solitude, quietness, and bed.

Instead of feeling sleepy though, my brain started regurgitating every piece of information that’s been thrown at me. Not in a cohesive manner, mind you.

And this is where this post’s title finally enters the picture. (I apologize. It’s terrible to delay this long. Possibly it’s only sheer curiosity that has kept you until now… and if you’re skimming, I understand.)

So I got home, with all these thoughts spinning, and as I’m wondering how I will ever retain all of this, I heard one thing replaying distinctly. The speaker’s voice rang confidently in my memory, I could see the earnestness on his face as he declared, “Sufganiyot.”

Then the crowd’s tentative response, according to the direction given in how to pronounce the word. “Sufganiyot.”

And my very overwhelmed mind, replaying this moment, could not remember the meaning of the word!!! This Hebrew word, taught by a couple who spent several years living in Jewish culture, must have some deep spiritual meaning attached to it that I must not forget!

I was desparate. My binder is at school, so I can’t access my notes until tomorrow. Would google really embody all that the word meant to me? I couldn’t even remember in what way it resonated in my heart, but it must have if my mind was so clearly recalling it?!

But then, suddenly, it came to me. The speaker saying, “Sufganiyout is the Hebrew word for donut.“

Yes. That’s correct. It means donut. And I had it in the same category as words like shalom or gelassenheit…

Sometimes things aren’t as deep as we make them.

But for me, personally, the deeper and hidden meaning of sufganiyot will always be this week. These moments.

And sure, a donut.

Turning the Page

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First of all: It’s true that I get this restless feeling every summer, when the teacher in me is dormant and my classroom is silent. I wonder why life feels stagnant and what God might be doing in my life next.

But this year, it’s different. I’m not feeling restless and empty…

God is filling my heart with something new. It’s exciting. It gives me a sense of purpose. (And I feel like I’m on the edge of a diving board, about to plunge into a future unknown…)

But sometimes, you just know. You sense that God is turning a page, writing a new chapter into your story.

I signed up as a volunteer to support families in crisis in my local city – originally for a summer job, and a way to keep my life centered around children during the months that I’m not teaching.

This past week, as I drove to an unfamiliar neighborhood to pick up a child, it hit me – this is the realization of a dream I’ve carried for years. Not in the exact form I pictured through my teens, but it’s definitely the beginning of living out what my heart has wanted to do for so long.

Yes, teaching school is a huge part of my life, and something I’m extremely passionate about. But in the years I’ve taught, the desire has been growing in my heart to specifically work with underprivileged children. To mentor them, love them, and teach them about Jesus.

I’m so grateful for the opportunity of teaching at a Christian school, where I can relax when I dismiss my students because I know that they’re going home to loving, godly parents.

For the last four years, that has been my sole passion and purpose, and I’ve found it incredibly fulfilling to work alongside Christian parents in loving and guiding their precious children.

But now, God has opened a door in my life to care for children who don’t have the abundant blessings that my students do.

These children crave love and security from me far more than my students do, because their lives don’t have the stability that my students’ lives have.

It’s new territory, but it’s exciting to this heart that has held this dream dormant so long, but never lost the passion for it…

It’s time to turn a page in my story, to move forward in faith, and step out into the next chapter of lif

God’s timing amazes me. I spent years wondering when, and how, and if I’ll ever find the right opportunity… and if God even wanted me to fill that kind of role, if so much time was going by…

But He knew I needed the experiences I’ve had to prepare me. To strip me of self, of false expectations of God, of prejudices in my heart… and to equip me to more accurately represent Jesus’ love to the lives I touch. (This is a lifelong challenge, to become stripped of self and equipped for service! Definitely not complete yet!)

God also knew I needed more time focused solely on teaching before I could take on another responsibility. He knew that when teaching has become a comfortable routine, like my morning coffee, I’d have more mental space for other things.

So, here I am. Stepping into a new, unknown chapter of life, on the brink of a dream that could lead to so much more…

Ready to give my life to investing in children who might not otherwise have a chance, as my role of service to my King.

Only God knows how much of my time will be spent doing this, or how long this chapter will last. Only He knows at this point where I’ll go from here.

But step by step He’s led me to this place, where the dream I carried along the way has finally become a call to answer.

And I know that whatever He leads me through from here, every winding path is somehow preparing me for the place He’ll lead me to next.

Lead Me to the Rock

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“When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the Rock that is higher than I.” Psalm 61:2

This verse holds so much meaning that I never noticed until recently, and it’s packed into those two words lead me.

I’ve read this verse at various times in life when my heart was struggling, and I’ve always known and believed that the place to turn then is to God, my Rock.

But what about those times when my heart is truly overwhelmed?

Life holds disappointments, tragedies, heartbreaks… dear hearts, you can probably fill in the blank with your own pain. We’ve all had something to endure.

Then while we’re still fighting not to go under the waves, another, greater blow comes. Something that cuts us to our very core, and suddenly our exhausted store of strength can’t keep on.

It’s in those times that we learn the meaning of overwhelmed to its full definition, and no, that knowledge isn’t pleasant to gain.

But in that place of being overwhelmed – that’s where I found myself wondering for the first time if I had the strength to go to the Rock. Or if I even wanted to.

For those of you who have been in this place, you know. You know that it can be really tough, wrestling with doubt and asking questions in your heart that you know “no good Christian should ever ask.”

It’s especially tough when you don’t tell anyone, because you’re afraid of being judged. You feel guilty and ashamed for asking things like,

“How could a loving God…?“

“What’s the point of praying, if He doesn’t intervene?“

“Is God not the type of God I thought He is?”

“Why doesn’t God show up in my story?”

“How can God say this is for my good?”

There are so many more questions people may have, I’m sure.

But no matter what we’re going through, when our hearts are overwhelmed, we get shaken. We doubt things we never dreamed of questioning.

That’s why I’m so grateful to God for showing up in Christian family, friends, and mentors, to speak truth to my doubting heart in those times, and lead me to the Rock.

You see, Psalm 61:2 doesn’t read, “When my heart is overwhelmed, I will go to the Rock that is higher than I.”

It doesn’t say, “then I turn to the Rock that is higher than I.”

The Psalmist wrote, “lead me to the Rock.”

This isn’t an action that the one who is overwhelmed will take, this is a request, a plea for support! Because an overwhelmed heart needs the Rock most desparately of all, yet doesn’t have the strength or maybe not even the will to pursue it.

So when I’m struggling to reconcile what I know is truth, with the brokenness I see in this world, it’s okay. It’s okay to be tired after fighting through a long hard season, and it’s okay to let others lead me to my Rock.

The key is going to God and staying close to Him, it doesn’t matter as much whether we go there on our own or leaning on others. What’s crucial is that we’re willing to go to the Rock.

If you’re ever in an overwhelming place, I sincerely hope you have the courage to ask those around you to stand up when you’re down. Some people are judgemental of struggling doubters, and I pray you’ll have wisdom to discern them from those who truly have a heart full of Jesus’ compassion. These are the people who, like Jesus, will be gentle and loving. Let them lead you to the Rock, and speak the truth to your doubting heart until you again can say with firm conviction,

“My Rock IS higher than I!”

I pray you’ll have those people in your life. I pray you’ll have the courage to ask them, and the humility to be led to the Rock. I pray that I may become a person to lead others to the Rock in their seasons of doubt. I especially pray in gratitude and ask a special blessing on those who have stepped in to lead me.

May our Rock sustain us, and may He prove His truth, goodness, and sovereignty to all of us who cry, “lead me to the Rock!”

From the Circus to the Zoo

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Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t call my classroom a circus, or my sister’s house a zoo…

But I did jump straight from one form of chaos to another, and no, I don’t mind. I thrive on chaos, especially when it’s created at least partially by children.

Those last weeks of school were slightly circus like, when I think about 23 children & a slip n slide obstacle course (oh, and their 2 soaking wet teachers, who may have taken a slide or two as well…).

The craziness of June was packed with delightfully fun moments to spice up the dryness of review lessons and final tests. But overall, fun as it is, June at school is a little chaotic. It just is.

So I was all ready to exhale, when instead I found myself thrown into mom world. My sister was recovering and caring for her newborn, and I had a toddler in my care.

When I heard him talking in his crib that first morning, my first thought was, “oh no, now I have to figure out how to feed him breakfast. What does this creature eat, anyway?!” (I was relieved to find a sticky note on the table with instructions… and I was pleasantly surprised to learn that he eats cereal with milk. Just like me. No baby food grinder needed, no specific preparation methods.)

I optimistically thought that it would be a breeze after the breakfast hurdle was so easily conquered. After all, I’m used to doing life with a room full of 10-year-olds. Just one barely-two-year-old couldn’t be too hard to handle!

I was wrong.

Add a morning and afternoon snack besides meals (yes, he gets to rub food on his face 5 times a day!), naptime, a big labrador retriever, and a new baby brother… and you have all the ingredients for a zoo. Then try to coordinate it all while getting the housework done.

As I work, my mind analyzes every task according to my newly acquired priorities.

If I leave this task for later, will anyone go hungry? Will anyone run out of clean clothes to wear? Does it need a diaper change? Is it crying? Is anyone going to be grumpy? Is the baby in danger of brotherly displays of affection which may not be entirely gentle?

Therefore the laundry gets washed regularly, but doesn’t always get folded promptly. There have been 3 meals on the table every day. (That might be easy for some of you, but this is from a teacher who hadn’t cooked supper since her March break!) I’ve even been pleased to discover that I DO enjoy cooking, now that I know what’s around to cook with, and I have the opportunity to work in the kitchen.

The dishes get washed routinely, not because anyone is crying or hungry, but because I would get grumpy if I had to work in a messy kitchen. So I make that a priority, next to diapers, hugs, and snacks for my assistant… who willingly has his fingers in all my tasks whenever possible.

It’s been absolutely delightful.

Toddlers are smart, I’ve discovered.

The educator in me has attempted to teach him lessons such as how to use a watering can (pour at least some of the water onto the plants, not just on yourself) how to pick lettuce (only the green stuff goes in the bowl, even if clods of dirt produce a more exciting sound), and how to chase bubbles (because babies trying to catch bubbles is simply an adorable scene).

He’s learning at a much faster rate than my students do, because there is so much to discover about the world at his age. He learns with all 5 senses, but tasting seems to be a favourite method.

Chocolate chips are delicious. Always. The first time he gets into the bag, and the second…

Mama’s garden flip-flops, although they were so tempting for sore teething gums to bite, didn’t have a great flavour. Just going by his disgusted expression…

We had just come inside one day, and after washing the garden mud off myself, I used a cloth to wash puppy kisses off him. He bent forward suddenly and licked my recently soapy arm. “Oh my!” the little voice proclaimed in a horrified tone.

He hasn’t tried eating flip flops or licked me since. He still loves chocolate. Learning by taste seems to work well for him.

Today his daddy made a profound comment while he sat in his high chair, eating.

“Um – don’t blow your nose with lunch meat!”

(Unfortunately no one could hold their laughter in, so… we may see that episode attempted again.)

He is also practicing how to show affection to his little brother. He kisses him, offers him his toys, climbs up to peek into the bassinet, makes gagging noises in his face and giggles (why, I have no idea – he loves discovering new sound effects!), shares his soother (yes, we have to sterilize it many times a day after rescuing it from big brother’s mouth), brings him any baby blankets he finds, rocks the baby swing to make the ride more interesting, kisses him again… and all day, every day, we hear him softly repeat “baby, baby, baby,” as he plays.

The bath water sprays everywhere. He follows me up the stairs and investigates the contents of my drawers. We walk slowly back down the stairs, hand in hand – it would be faster to carry him, but he’s SO proud. As he carefully places his foot on the next step, he says “mmHMM!” each time.

Now he’s sound asleep and I’m home for the weekend. My house is incredibly quiet… and for some reason, I feel tired. And I realize what happened to my life as soon as school was out.

I went from the circus to the zoo. And loved it!

God Gave Me a Strawberry Patch

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Two short weeks ago, I had just enjoyed my first day of summer vacation and prepared to have a relaxing lavendar bath.

I arrived at the end of the school term, weary, but I made it through. Now I would enjoy a season of rest before diving into summer activities.

I sank into the hot water and bubbles, lazily dreaming about the slower pace life would have now…

Three minutes into my soak, it was cut short by a knock on the door. “Hurry, you’re needed at your sister’s house to babysit!”

Apparently the baby who wasn’t due for another couple of weeks had decided to arrive early, and the two weeks of help which I’d promised my sister would be starting… now.

I got my calendar cleared, my things packed, and before I mentally had switched gears, I found myself moving into a cozy upstairs bedroom at my sister’s house.

I remember asking in the busy whirlwind, “God, what about the rest I was longing for?”

But two weeks later, I haven’t had time to miss that resting.

God gave me an adorable baby nephew.

And because I agreed to take on the job of helping my sister, God also gave me my toddler nephew to take care of… a house to clean… laundry… meals to cook… a garden to keep weed free (LOL – Nice try) and… a strawberry patch. It’s doing well, by the way. It produces endless strawberries.

I never knew the self-discipline that a strawberry patch could instill in me. When I want to stay up late reading, all it takes is the remembrance of those strawberries, and I choose to go to sleep…Because I like to get them picked before my favourite “helper” wakes up. Therefore, I need to get up at a decent time. So there’s none of that summer sleeping in that I looked forward to, but I’m going to bed early! All because of those strawberries.

You know, it’s true. Sometimes a change is as good as a rest.

And God always gives us His very best, according to what He knows that we need.

…And Now it’s “Yesterday”

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The 2022 – 2023 school year has officially ended, and the many golden moments of teaching have been added to history in the timeline of my life.

The last day, a picnic with all the students and parents, was yesterday.

It was all a blur of excited children, appreciative parents, goodbyes to students… and a heart full of emotions.

I never realized how proud I would be when my former students recieved their graduation certificates and diplomas… there were a thousand things I wanted to say. But you can’t prepare a graduate for all of life in one day, so I kept my conversations brief – and enjoyed the youthful gleam of eagerness that shone in their eyes. They’ve learned so much in their school years, from all of us staff who have intentionally and prayerfully poured into their lives… now their school years are yesterday.

And so is my second year of teaching grade 4.

It’s hard to grasp… It’s been a good year. The class was awesome, just like last year’s class, and I enjoyed teaching them.

But it felt like a long year. Somehow I thought I still had time to teach them, but the days disappeared… and now it’s yesterday.

They’ve learned all they will in grade 4. I’ve taught them all I could while they were “mine.”

I have so many great memories of the time I spent with these children.

The days of the “science class giggles,” when everything was humorous, regardless of what the lesson content was. All those afternoons where I either laughed helplessly with them, or wished they’d get over the funnies so I could actually get through the lesson…

The Monday mornings when I either got to or had to lead singing for 4A and 4B… depending on my own energy and inspiration levels, it was at times a joy, at times a chore.

There were moments of frustration when a student who hadn’t been paying attention needed the concept explained again… and just as many moments of delighted satisfaction when a student’s furrowed, concentrating brow was suddenly eased when their eyes lit up with understanding.

Recess was a big part of the year, because it was a time we shared with the other grade 4 class. So many memories were made with the whole crew together… many soccer games, which included many moments of teachers holding our breath and exhaling in relief when potential injuries were avoided… laughing in amusement at our students’ antics… the time one of my “tough” boys suddenly started singing “Jingle Bells,” and the whole class paused playing to join in until the song was finished… recess was so fun with this class. Sure, there were some squabbles to settle, but that’s just a normal part of children interacting and learning to create good relationships!

There were times I thought the year would last forever… there were also times so golden that I wished it would.

But now all of those moments… are part of yesterday.

The mistakes I made as a teacher cannot be undone, the unfinished lessons can’t be completed – the moments are written into yesterday as they occurred.

But the goals that were achieved, the maturing and growth that occurred, any positive influence made – these also won’t be undone. They are a part of yesterday.

And whether I was ready for it or not, the last day of school is over.

Now all that’s left to do is reflect on the memories, let my heart ache with the goodbyes, and then… begin the process of rejuvenating myself to do it all again next year.

Yesterday is gone.

The tomorrow of the next school term won’t be here until September…

And today is the first day of summer break.

It’s time to Live Today and see what God writes into this chapter!

A Friend Who “Gets It”

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Lately, words have been inadequate to express all the depth of feeling within me.

And for me, both talkative and a writer, that is one of the worst limitations I can experience.

Sure, I still have heart to heart conversations with my dear people. My journal has not been neglected. But the words I have aren’t sufficient to provide an outlet for everything that’s inside.

So I keep doing my best. I share bits of my heart, to the best of my ability. But I know it’s not an accurate presentation. It’s incomplete. Others can’t feel what my heart feels, so they can only go by what they hear me speak in words.

They respond in true, loving, kindness, and I am grateful for that. But sometimes, because I can’t fully express the depths of my heart, their words don’t match the fulness of the need.

And there are days when my whole heart longs for someone to just “get it!”

Someone to actually fully understand me. Every emotion, every heartcry, and the reason for each one.

I’m extremely thankful and blessed to have those in my life who try. They ask. They patiently listen as I do my best to explain.

But those are the times I realize, I can’t always even understand myself.

That’s why I lack the words to explain, because I can’t figure out my own self at times.

Sound familiar?

I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who has struggled through a season of life with a messy heart.

That’s why I’m sharing this – it’s my prayer that you can be encouraged with the same precious knowledge that I cling to.

There IS a Friend Who knows.

Who gets it, fully.

He doesn’t even need you to explain it to Him in words, though He loves to listen anytime you need Someone to talk to.

He won’t ever accidentally say or do the wrong thing. He knows exactly what your heart needs.

He understands you completely when you’re weary of trying to understand yourself.

So if you’re tired of trying to figure out what you need, just ask Him. He knows. And He promises to provide whatever it is that you need to sustain you in the moment.

You only need to ask Him. He’s got the rest.

This Friend is the only One Who can truly understand your heart… because He made it.

His Name is Jesus.

He’s been through every form of trial we can imagine… your pain is not foreign to Him.

He’s able to understand because He’s walked this road before.

So allow yourself this rest. Stop trying to find another human who “gets it,” or searching for the right words to MAKE them get it.

Jesus gets it.

Jesus gets you.

And He’s got you… safely in His hand.

Proof of a Promise

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…with God all things are possible. Matthew 19:26 KJV

Amen!

This promise is TRUE, as are all of God’s promises.

But… why does He need to prove it?

What if I just wanted to believe that one by faith?

So often our faith is weak, and we just want God to demonstrate His power. To act out His promises in a real way, that we can actually experience.

But this promise?

With God all things are possible.

Do we really want God to prove that one to us?

At first glance, sure! “Yeah, show me the great things You can work out for me! That sounds wonderful!”

but… take a closer look.

With God.

All things.

Are possible.

When God starts demonstrating the truth of this statement, it doesn’t feel like special favour.

It doesn’t look like the revelation of a promise.

Because the only way for God to prove that statement is… to lead me through the very things that to my view, are impossible. And make them possible.

If you give God the right to yourself,
He will make a holy experiment out of you.
God’s experiments never fail.

Oswald Chambers

Not actually an enjoyable or relaxing journey, to state it mildly.

But along that path, God is proving in a very tangible way the truth of His promise!

When faced with something difficult, if I do it with God… it becomes possible… no matter what it is.

Every situation I have ever found myself in, no matter how great the intensity, how beyond exhausted I am, how overwhelming the flood or how violent the storm… every one of those places becomes a place of possible. Because I face no circumstance without God.

Why is God showing this to me? What impossible circumstances might I face in the future where I need to believe in full confidence that with God, It Will Be Possible?

I’m truly thankful I don’t know.

Possible doesn’t mean smooth or easy, it may simply mean survivable. Endurable. It might not even feel bearable, but everything that you come through alive was made possible.

And every victory strengthens you for the next challenge… it’s like climbing a rock wall. You have to grab one handhold at a time, and inch by perilous inch, you will reach new heights. It’s a process.

It’s exciting to look back and see how many things I’ve made it through with God… and a comfort to trust that no challenge I face in the future will ever be too hard for Him.

“No matter what I face, You’re by my side…” *

Making all things possible.

*lyrics from “Trust in You”

With men, this is impossible, but with God,
nothing shall be impossible.

Matthew 19:26, KJV

Heartcry for Eden

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It was an idyllic day.

Ferns overhead, a tropical plant waving gently…

My hair, just washed, blow-drying in the breeze and bleaching under the brilliant, warm sunshine…

A dream-come-true table and chair set from a yard sale, refurbished from its faded black to a fresh white…

It’s a nearly perfect afternoon, to any casual onlooker.

My heart knows though, that the aura of perfection is only temporal…

Truly, there are little glimpses of Eden to be found in this world, and that setting was liberally sprinkled with them.

God sends us just enough hints of what is to come, to give us strength to keep on walking.

But still, the reality is: we’re not Home yet.

This is not Eden, here with the plants, the sunshine… the tears.

And my heart, my aching, tender heart, pouring itself out through my fingers on the keys.

Because sometimes, words just can’t explain.

I try. I love using words.

I tell God all about it… to the best of my ability… but sometimes, words fail.

They’re not the language of the heart…

And when my heart is crying out to God, words aren’t always enough.

That’s why I’m so grateful that where words fail, music speaks.

And I can let my fingers drift over the keys, capturing the depth, the fullness, the beauty, the richness of everything in my heart.

No sheet music needed. It’s a song I’ll never play exactly this way again. There are no lyrics.

But it holds a raw kind of beauty, because each chord is held in the deepest places of my heart.

It’s my heartsong…

A heartcry…

Which the Father hears as a prayer.

When words lack the adequacy to express all that’s felt within our souls, music captures the depth of each emotion and wings our heartcries to the Father.

Jackie, May 2023