Mountain of Leaves

For the past month I have been looking at the leaves slowly accumulating in my yard and thinking, "Man! I really should rake those up into a big pile and jump in with Zach! He would love it!" But sometimes, despite the best of intentions, these little daily "I should" fantasies never actually come to fruition.

Until yesterday.

It was a PERFECT fall day. It was sunny, the air was crisp but not biting... a light sweater was totally comfortable. I made some chili and had a little while for it to simmer, and the kitchen looked like a tornado hit it was a mess but as I looked at Zach standing in a perfect beam of sunlight, trapped inside the house (like he is WAY too much), I decided that it was time. No kitchen cleaning right now, no chores right now, nothing but me and my boy, going outside to play in the leaves.

I have been meaning to pick up a rake, but as (once again) the best of intentions don't always get lived out, I found a nice dusty old broom in the garage that would suffice. She was a battered old girl, but she was tough enough to get the job done.

When the leaves first fell they were all in a nice small area under the tree, but the last few windy days had scattered them all over the yard- and we have a BIG yard. So I took my battered broom and started on one side of the yard and swept those babies all into one huge pile. It look a very. long. time. But I got a nice looking pile going, so it was worth it.

The part that makes all of this so completely worth it is also perhaps the most hard to describe. When Zach saw the pile of leaves, I told him he could jump in it. First he kind of scooted around the edge and kicked a few leaves, like he wasn't sure what else to do. So I jumped right in the middle, hoping he would follow my cue. And boy was I right! He jumped straight in the middle of the mountain of leaves we had made, and played in fall leaves for the very first time in his life. There was a moment where in his eyes I saw, ever so briefly, the elation of experiencing something incredibly wonderful for the first time in his life. He looked so excited, so unbelieving, so enchanted and captivated by the wonders of rolling in leaves and having them rain down on him (with mommy's help). His joy was contagious, and I also began reveling in how awesome and fun it was to play in the fall leaves. At one point I laid down on my back in the leaves and breathed in the smell, and while it was so familiar, I realized that I had forgotten what that smelled like. It is different from regular fall air that you smell while walking to your car in the morning on your way to work. It is even different than the smell you get when you rake leaves. No, this smell can only be realized by actually laying amidst them, having them touch your face and get in your hair. It is a smell I remember so acutely from my childhood, but had forgotten so easily in my adulthood. Having children is such a beautiful wonder that brings me back to my childhood. I forgot how alive I used to be.


No.... I just remembered how alive I am.

"Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the wind longs to play with your hair."

Insignificance.

If I don't take the time to be with God, in his word, in prayer, it is so easy to forget his promises in everyday life. It is so easy to not read my Bible because I'm tired, or whatever other excuse, then time will trickle through my fingers and before I know it days have passed and I'm wondering why I feel so weird, so disconnected, so lame, so insignificant, so unattractive, so unworthy. Without God, I have no purpose and no calling.

So this morning as I was once again, as I have been these past couple weeks, dwelling on the fact that my calling is unclear, I realized this:

Our calling is revealed when we are in a relationship with the one who created us. Of course I don't know my calling- I didn't create myself! God did, and only he knows why. 

I wonder why God hasn't revealed my purpose yet? Hmmm...

To know my calling I must be in a relationship with God.
To be in a relationship with God, I need to devote time.
I need to devote energy.
I need to have love, and I need to sacrifice.
Would I be in love with Dave if he didn't do any of this for me?
What if Dave never took the time to come over to my house, or to call me. What if he always worried about himself and how I could serve him, without caring about what I might need?
What if Dave went day after day without sacrificing anything, without kissing me, without playing with me, without having a sense of humor? What if he was bland and boring, only visiting me out of desperation or an agenda? What if he had to force himself to carve out time- dutifully- to call or come over, just to ask me for favors?

How would I respond?

Luckily, Dave does none of those things. He is very loving and sacrificial, caring and concerned. He's with me out of desire, not out of duty. He calls because he wants to hear my voice, not necessarily because of any other reason. God brought Dave in my life to bring me closer to Him, and to show me what a healthy relationship should look like and how to be in one. And this is what God expects of me in my relationship with Him.

So when all is boiled down, it is clear to me that my feelings of insignificance are a product of my disconnect with God. If I give life to this relationship, nurture it and grow it, I really have faith that I will not ever feel insignificant. I have faith that God's light will shine in me, and that I will be beautiful and worthy and not only significant, but significantly more able to do his work.

That is life's purpose after all, right?