Broken Pieces & Beauty

  Beautiful mess. Gut twisting, hugely rewarding, broken and lovely: this life.

I carry him, my eyes fastened on the door: escape. I carry him, screaming. I carry him, writhing.  I carry him in a fit that stretches beyond reason. I carry this child and his small brother, past the whispering onlookers. Past the one person in that entire store who possibly understands exactly what we're dealing with here. I just can't meet his eyes. That other parent, at least, isn't tittering on about poor behavior and bad parenting.  "Hi." Thank God for one empathizing soul.

 Three littles pattern their steps behind mine, while their daddy pays the bill in the check out line.  No tears. Someone should hold their head up and claim this boy. Someone should pray through the embarrassment and remember that although he seems a flailing ball of leg braces, clenched teeth and determination for self-injury, he is also a phenomenally gifted masterpiece. Made with a purpose; deliberately and lovingly shaped, this child is no more "handicapped" than any of those who walk, limp free, in my wake.

  "Handicapped," "Special Needs," "Cerebral Palsy," "Epilepsy."  Blue eyes, white skin, innumerable nose hairs." Labels to describe physical conditions. Physical conditions mean precisely squat. Compassion, bravery, integrity, wisdom, graciousness, playful mischievousness, humility, most would concur, are the true labels of decent humanity. As a human I beg you, smile sincerely and look each other in the eyes...especially when someone's child seems at their most inhuman.

  I am not brave, nor particularly brilliant. I cling to peace and a smooth path. God has seen fit to plop 5 willful, loud, crafty little charmers smack-dab into my part of His Story. What a wonderfully ornery prank.  What a beautifully elaborate gift. :) 

Dandelion Kisses

 Oregon's on again-off again rain romance has begun, indicating two things: 1) Willamette Valley weather manning should be no one's dream job, 2) Spring (despite the groundhog's prediction) arrived early. A wild beast of a season, overflowing with hormonal flora and punctuated at every moment by the tender symphonies of a thousand sneezes, Spring brings with it a bittersweet ache.

   Among the various plants and wee animal babes appearing on scene, the wee warrior Dandelion too,  rears his head.  He looks 'round ways a bit, promptly bursts into seed and thereby covers your lawn with all his many spawn within a week's time. Who knew such a small, sunny flower could prove so very tenacious? I love Dandelions. I love that they stink to high heaven, undergo numerous changes and resist your EVERY effort to permanently destroy them.  I love that, though a weed to most, herbalists know them for their healing properties and kindness to the human body. I love that they begin their days as the most likely flower in a child's bouquet and end it as a wish blown by that same child's breath. 

   Most, I love that God wrote the story of His son in the life of one tiny weed. For many, He stank to high heaven; to all he offered healing and kindness. To the child, he had a special regard; held as tightly in their little hearts as Dandelions in a chubby fist. Dandelion kisses are the name given those little, flying seeds blown from their cottoned tops. Kisses from heaven, kisses from Papa and his Son. 

Happy Spring. :)