The Floodplain
Yesterday, my daughter was eating Cheerios off the floor and sharing them with her baby dolls. Especially the ones she didn't like. She'd pop one in her mouth, make a face, take it out and offer it to her pseudo-sibling. How precious. At least she's sharing.
Four days ago while we were driving to story-time at the library, she entertained herself in the carseat by "drinking" water from her sippy, then opening her mouth and purposefully letting the water pour out all over her while laughing hysterically. Our first stop when we got to the library was to go into the restroom and use the automatic hand-dryers to dry all her clothes. She thought that was equally fantastic, and proceeded to say a cheery "HELLO!" to all the other ladies entering and exiting the bathroom stalls during our grand adventure.
Our home is constantly lacking natural sunlight, because she considers it her very important job to close the blinds at every opportunity. We use a lot of lamps.
We've also reached the stage where every surface is fair game for climbing and jumping off... Except, sweet baby, it's not. My comfort is that 8,000,000,000 people have survived this stage, and so will we. Plus, am I not glad that my child exhibits no fear? Gravity means nothing. Corners of furniture, meh. And if all else fails, Amazon has some really cute parachutes we can purchase for dirt-cheap. And bubble wrap.
The truth is... she makes me laugh more than I've ever laughed before. Not only because she's genuinely funny, but also because of the abandon and excitement with which she does everything. Her dad and I notice it and comment on it daily - how much joy God has given her, and how much joy He has given us through her.
It challenges me. The Lord knew it would.
- - -
Right before my daughter's due-date a couple years ago, Sara Groves released an album called "Floodplain". Its title song has been one that's impacted the trajectory of my life - or at least the perception of that trajectory. Hearing the lyrics of this song for the first time was like the feeling of being seen, being found... being released. For a few weeks straight, her album was pretty much the only music I listened to - and that song in particular kept breaking and healing my heart, on repeat.
I was about to give birth to what has since been named my life's greatest joy - but at the time of the song's release, I was also dealing with some heavy grief and heartache. Joy and grief were mighty crashing waves, fighting for the same shoreline. I was exhausted. When Sara's song was released, the Lord used the words mightily. His timing is and was perfect.
Some hearts are built on a floodplain -
keeping one eye on the sky for rain.
You work for the ground that gets washed away,
when you live closer.
Closer to the life and the ebb and flow,
Closer to the edge of I don't know,
Closer to that's the way it goes...
Some hearts are built on a floodplain.
And it's easy to sigh on a high bluff -
look down and ask, when you've had enough,
will you have the sense to come on up,
Or will you stay closer?
Closer to the danger and the rolling deep,
Closer to the run and the losing streak
and what brings us to our knees...
Some hearts live here.
Oh, the river it rushes to madness -
and the water it spreads like sadness.
And there's no high ground.
Closer to the danger and the rolling deep,
Closer to the run and the losing streak
and what brings us to our knees...
Closer to the life and the ebb and flow,
Closer to the edge of I don't know,
Closer to, Lord please send a boat...
Some hearts are built here.
- - -
Some hearts are built on the floodplain, and mine has been. My life has been spent there. The Lord has filled my heart with Him since an early age, but I've still done a lot of looking up at high bluffs. I've experienced the sighs and longings of someone who's not always entirely sure.
But time after time, year after year - where the highs are high and the lows are low, this has been my home. Closer to the life and the ebb and flow of the griefs and extreme joys, closer to the edge of I don't know but I'm asking and learning... closer to the place the Lord has met me again and again, on that shoreline of crashing waves.
It's a fact that I needed a husband who could occasionally pull me up into the bracing sunshine, make me laugh, embarrass me in public places, and cause me to stop taking myself as seriously. I said yes to him in a pretty dress over six years ago, but apparently the Lord wasn't done rocking my world yet... so He sent me my daughter.
But as much as I've needed them both, the thing that humbles me again and again over the past few years is that they need me too. There are things I'm contributing to our home, and it's breathed new life into my spirit. An appreciation for solitude and quiet, for example. Empathy and sensitivity. A love for God's Word. My ridiculously accurate sense of smell. The music that fills our home each night when I practice piano. A passion for what is true, right, and good. My heart may be built on a floodplain, but since my daughter's arrival I've been able to see how much of a strength that can be at times, if committed unto the Lord... and how much the Lord always intended it to be so.
They teach me how to belly laugh, and I need them. I'm grateful to the Lord for His provision. And daily, we're doing our best to build this home together on the solid Rock. One soggy Cheerio, one wordless grief, one crashing wave of joy at a time along the shores of this floodplain.
Four days ago while we were driving to story-time at the library, she entertained herself in the carseat by "drinking" water from her sippy, then opening her mouth and purposefully letting the water pour out all over her while laughing hysterically. Our first stop when we got to the library was to go into the restroom and use the automatic hand-dryers to dry all her clothes. She thought that was equally fantastic, and proceeded to say a cheery "HELLO!" to all the other ladies entering and exiting the bathroom stalls during our grand adventure.
Our home is constantly lacking natural sunlight, because she considers it her very important job to close the blinds at every opportunity. We use a lot of lamps.
We've also reached the stage where every surface is fair game for climbing and jumping off... Except, sweet baby, it's not. My comfort is that 8,000,000,000 people have survived this stage, and so will we. Plus, am I not glad that my child exhibits no fear? Gravity means nothing. Corners of furniture, meh. And if all else fails, Amazon has some really cute parachutes we can purchase for dirt-cheap. And bubble wrap.
The truth is... she makes me laugh more than I've ever laughed before. Not only because she's genuinely funny, but also because of the abandon and excitement with which she does everything. Her dad and I notice it and comment on it daily - how much joy God has given her, and how much joy He has given us through her.
It challenges me. The Lord knew it would.
- - -
Right before my daughter's due-date a couple years ago, Sara Groves released an album called "Floodplain". Its title song has been one that's impacted the trajectory of my life - or at least the perception of that trajectory. Hearing the lyrics of this song for the first time was like the feeling of being seen, being found... being released. For a few weeks straight, her album was pretty much the only music I listened to - and that song in particular kept breaking and healing my heart, on repeat.
I was about to give birth to what has since been named my life's greatest joy - but at the time of the song's release, I was also dealing with some heavy grief and heartache. Joy and grief were mighty crashing waves, fighting for the same shoreline. I was exhausted. When Sara's song was released, the Lord used the words mightily. His timing is and was perfect.
Some hearts are built on a floodplain -
keeping one eye on the sky for rain.
You work for the ground that gets washed away,
when you live closer.
Closer to the life and the ebb and flow,
Closer to the edge of I don't know,
Closer to that's the way it goes...
Some hearts are built on a floodplain.
And it's easy to sigh on a high bluff -
look down and ask, when you've had enough,
will you have the sense to come on up,
Or will you stay closer?
Closer to the danger and the rolling deep,
Closer to the run and the losing streak
and what brings us to our knees...
Some hearts live here.
Oh, the river it rushes to madness -
and the water it spreads like sadness.
And there's no high ground.
Closer to the danger and the rolling deep,
Closer to the run and the losing streak
and what brings us to our knees...
Closer to the life and the ebb and flow,
Closer to the edge of I don't know,
Closer to, Lord please send a boat...
Some hearts are built here.
- - -
Some hearts are built on the floodplain, and mine has been. My life has been spent there. The Lord has filled my heart with Him since an early age, but I've still done a lot of looking up at high bluffs. I've experienced the sighs and longings of someone who's not always entirely sure.
But time after time, year after year - where the highs are high and the lows are low, this has been my home. Closer to the life and the ebb and flow of the griefs and extreme joys, closer to the edge of I don't know but I'm asking and learning... closer to the place the Lord has met me again and again, on that shoreline of crashing waves.
It's a fact that I needed a husband who could occasionally pull me up into the bracing sunshine, make me laugh, embarrass me in public places, and cause me to stop taking myself as seriously. I said yes to him in a pretty dress over six years ago, but apparently the Lord wasn't done rocking my world yet... so He sent me my daughter.
But as much as I've needed them both, the thing that humbles me again and again over the past few years is that they need me too. There are things I'm contributing to our home, and it's breathed new life into my spirit. An appreciation for solitude and quiet, for example. Empathy and sensitivity. A love for God's Word. My ridiculously accurate sense of smell. The music that fills our home each night when I practice piano. A passion for what is true, right, and good. My heart may be built on a floodplain, but since my daughter's arrival I've been able to see how much of a strength that can be at times, if committed unto the Lord... and how much the Lord always intended it to be so.
They teach me how to belly laugh, and I need them. I'm grateful to the Lord for His provision. And daily, we're doing our best to build this home together on the solid Rock. One soggy Cheerio, one wordless grief, one crashing wave of joy at a time along the shores of this floodplain.
Comments
Post a Comment