I had just put a chicken in the crockpot.
The weather outside looked stormy. It was dark. The perfect day to get things done around the house. I had read a story to Emma Faye. I painted with Josh. I played on the floor with Thomas. I just put Thomas down for a nap. The house was quiet.
"Everyone, Mommy is going to get some of her things done on her list while Thomas sleeps. Emma Faye, you may watch a TV show. Josh if you want to play your Leapster, you can."
I thumbed through my itunes library and found my newly downloaded Laura Story "Blessings" album. Her music and annointed words of truth began to permeate my home. I began worshipping. My heart held fast to her song, Remember.
this is the body that was torn for us
this is the blood that was spilt
points to the pain you endured for us
points to the shame the blame the guilt
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit come
Move our hearts to remember
With eyes almost closed I began to embrace and remind myself of what my Savior had done for me. I began to remember. But... then.. there was this leapster blasting in the background.
"Josh, can you please turn that down."
He walked out of the room.
The music swelled....Move our hearts to remember
I silently began to pray this for my own heart. But.. there it was again.. that dang leapster. Josh was back in the kitchen.
And then it came.
"Josh, get out of here with that thing! I can't hear my music. Mommy doesn't want to hear that. I want to hear MY music!"
He looked at me and walked out and upstairs. I turned back to... my moment?
What? Really? After that?
I felt the Lord whisper, "Why are you remembering? Let me tell you why I ask you to remember Me.... so you may go and do likewise."
Here was my worship. My home. My moments and interactions with my children and my husband. Here is my act of worship. Why would I long to shut out the ones I love from encountering Christ in me?
Oh how easy it is for me to lift my hands in abandonment within the walls of our sanctuary on Sunday mornings with all of my children tucked away downstairs in nurseries and Sunday School classes. How difficult to worship amidst the chaos. Yet on the eve of Christ's Crucifixion, He broke bread and gave thanks. He asked us to remember.
So I want to remember more than what He did for me at the cross. I want to remember how He lived. How he asks me to live. I want to live openly inviting Him to grow fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control. I want to live in such a way everyone knows CHRIST as my gardener. I want to live in such a way my fruit is irresistible. That my children would LONG to taste. That they would long to produce that same fruit. As a gardener searches after fertilizer to better his crop, so they would inquire and seek after that which was enriching my soil. My soul. And I could tell them, Christ.
I want to take my impatience and unkindness and break it in two, offer it up to Christ and give thanks to Him who redeems my failures. I want to remember the body He gave... not just physically, but spiritually. The example He gave by how He lived. This dying to ourselves. This willingly becoming Isaacs and climbing up on our altars and laying down because He asked us. The altars HE has assigned us. Allowing our arms to be tied by our loving Father.. as bizarre as it may seem... yet trusting all the while.
So today, I remembered... finally. When I remember, Christ is able to redeem. You, Lord, can now come and restore.
I repented to Josh and I worshipped. I experienced my heart moved . I am learning more and more each day how to allow Christ to take me beyond my failures and embrace His freedom. After all, my children learn more from my failures, than my perfection--or the illusion of such perfection.
Jesus, help me remember to remember.