What’s been happening in my life lately is simply spectacular.  My physical energy has been fantastic and even this last round of chemo hasn’t knocked me down like usual.  And I am compelled to believe that my physical well-being is tightly linked to my spiritual well-being. 
I feel “like myself”, granted a new me.  I am worn down from my chemo; but despite this I have a sense of feeling healthier than I’ve been for a very long while.  And the “new me” is the one surfacing with the twins growing up a wee bit and me feeling like I’m starting to grasp what it means to be well and how to truly immerse myself in my source of strength and energy, my Father God.  But I set aside my family dynamics here to focus on me.  (Since it is healthy, in fact, to focus on myself as a mother, so I can refuel to love these kids which just take so very much out of Ryan and I –  and I know there’s many who relate to this.)
Let me focus.
In my last post I spoke of how God is teaching me to rest (and that I’m NO natural in being a student of rest).  But as I trust in Him, He continues to guide me.  And I truly believe that it is only by resting in God, that I will find healing (physical, emotional, spiritual). 
It is a battle to find this peaceful rest.  Our pastor brought to my attention the story of Jesus in the boat sleeping while a storm raged.  He rested amidst the storm.  And then chastises his disciples for having fear instead of faith.  Jesus gives rest akin to providing sleep in a rocky boat.
This is a process.  It’s a major overhaul for a person who likes to cling to control.  So I am patient and I trust.
One day I got thinking.  (okay, so I think alot about alot of different things these days).  But these thoughts started to help me uncover changes I need to introduce.  Thank you Holy Spirit for giving me some practical pieces to chew on!  I have a tendency to want to makes moments shiny and spectacular, especially if I feel there’s a general expectation to have a shiny and spectacular moment like a birthday, anniversary, trip, etc.  It doesn’t sit well with me that even birthday’s can bomb and anniversaries can feel dull.  So when presented with a life-threatening illness the expectation I placed upon myself to make moments shiny and spectacular, was HUGE. And yes, I continue to absolutely love celebrating life and celebrating within life; but, not ever single moment can be a momentous celebration.  That simply is not life. Ordinary life is where life is really lived – at least in its majority.  So, I am freed from the expectation of creating something grand, so that I can LIVE.
I felt Jesus say, “I AM, so just be.”
It’s simple, it’s beautiful, it’s what I needed to hear.  It’s back to the Martha story in Luke 10.  She’s flitting about and ticked at her sister for not helping but instead sitting at Jesus’ feet.  I remember still as a teen reading this and being like, “really Mary just sitting there is doing the right thing?!”  (I guess this should have given me a clue to where I could work on myself, but really didn’t until now)  
“I am, so just be.”
And then I read the quote (In that crazy sexy cancer survivor book) that “during the time of the darkest night act as if the morning has already come.”  That sounds like…. faith.  So my secular book is telling me to have FAITH.  And I’ve been reading in Luke and Luke 18 has all this talk of faith and faith like a child and persistent faith.  And then verse 27 says, “What is impossible from a human perspective is possible with God.”  This whole ‘faith’ topic gets a little confusing to me because I am just not capturing this, it feels mind boggling. 
Then Luke 18 resurfaces and I am reminded to have faith like a child.  Children who believe anything is possible.  Children who rest well as they know they are cared for, loved, nurtured and safe.   Children who believe they can do anything if they believe. 
It’s like a billboard:  Faith like a child is how we find rest.
So my journey continues and I seek out faith like a child.
Today Rayna came home from a walk with the nanny and she had a crown of dandelions on her head.  I am stopped.  Read my blog from last May about being stuck in the dandelions, aptly titled Stuck in the Dandelion Field to see, here is an excerpt to help you capture my perspective:
You see my life right now is a dandelion field.  Rayna loves to stop and pick dandelions when we’re out for a walk and right now there are fields of them.  My Dad commented about our dandelions when he was visiting here, “you have such a beautiful province; but you sure don’t like to get rid of your dandelions do you?” They are an eyesore to him and he can’t believe our city doesn’t spray them.  It doesn’t aesthetically bother me that there is an overgrowth of dandelions along the sidewalks and in the fields and on unkempt lawns.  But they have certainly annoyed me.  When we go to the playground or to the river for a walk it takes FOREVER because Rayna stops for all the seeding flowers.  And when I tell her, “no more dandelions” I can see her writhing inside that she has to resist the almost uncontrollable urge to pick and blow them.  Sometimes we do need to get going so we can get home before the twins have a melt-down; but often it’s just me. I feel the need to get to the playground if that’s where we’ve said we’re going, to get “unstuck”, if you will.  However, it is in the dandelions that Rayna is having fun and experiencing the simple joys of a flower that others call a weed.  It is more fun to her than going down a slide or actually making it to the scenic river trail.
(May 2016)
Oh to see a crown of dandelions on Rayna’s head! (for I called it a headband and was promptly corrected; and indeed a crown is perfect.)
Dandelions: Isn’t the naked beauty of life most present in the blessings that just pop up.  Not planted, not tended. Most call them weeds and rush, oh how we rush, to get through them, past them, out of this season that has our city blossoming in brilliant, radiant, carefree yellow.  This year I pause. I smile. I celebrate. The crown atop my gorgeous daughter’s head befits my little queen and my breath becomes intentional because I am deeply present in this moment. My life is in blossoming with dandelions and for that, I praise God.
Indeed, in the dandelions is where life is lived.  And I’m finally starting to see it’s beauty.  As I release my adult notions and expectations and broken expectations.  And this is exactly where Jesus wants me.  Enjoying the simple pleasures of life, not needing them to be grand, and believing with faith like a child. 
From here the journey is one step at a time.  I’m always expecting (wanting) a point by point 5 year plan, but here God speaks, “the future looks bright, ah it’s looks spectacular if you just walk with me moment by moment, day by day, year by year.”  And I feel like I can breathe, because all that is asked of me in this moment is what this moment demands: my presence.