Fall has finally stopped peeking its nose around the corner and made a full entrance into our little patch of earth in North Carolina. Actually, this morning felt more like winter than fall - the sky, a cold sheet of flat gray metal, made it seem like morning had dressed up as late afternoon, an early Halloween costume to trick us.
The leaves are tricksters, too, having all at once changed colors it seems – a beautiful contrast against the faithful green belonging to the multitude of pine trees our towns here are named after (Southern Pines, Pinehurst, Pinebluff, Whispering Pines, etc.) There are mostly shades of deep gold and brilliant yellow, but there’s orange, too. I’ve noticed the dogwoods tend to turn a lime green before morphing to yellow. And here and there is a spot of blazing red, like some great Soup-Maker is meticulously sprinkling red pepper flakes into His boiling pot of stew, being careful not to overdo it.
It really is a lovely time of year. I am thankful to be living it here.
And speaking of overdoing, this week has rubbed a little raw and left my soul sore. Take regular monthly hormones and tack on a pretty sick girl. Then throw in normal wife + mom + employee stress and a dash (albeit small) of ministry work. Ta-da! Perfect breeding ground for raw edges and soul soreness.
Since I’ve been (slowly!) reading one thousand gifts by Ann Voskamp, I’ve started visiting her blog. Wednesday morning, after a particularly hard evening the day before (due to no one’s but my own making), her words on being a Velveteen Mother truly spoke to me. She reminded me of this passage from The Velveteen Rabbit:
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.""Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?""It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
It’s the part I’ve bolded that has wound its way around my heart this week… to be real happens to people who don’t break easily, don’t have sharp edges, and don’t have to be carefully kept. Count them off on your fingers… one, two, three…
Sigh.
Sometimes I am pretty fragile. Often my sharp edges bump into others and I give them nasty purple bruises. And many days, I feel if I am to make it through, I have to be pretty carefully kept, I need to be coddled. So I protect myself.
I suppose the soul-soreness I’m carrying tonight might just be evidence of those sharp edges being worn away a bit? I hope so. And maybe the Lord is toughening me in some small way so that I can be less fragile and more sturdy? Maybe my shield of self-protection is slipping down a tiny inch or two? I pray so.
I’ll close with a verse I plan to tuck deep inside me for a good long while:
Know that the LORD is God. It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, the sheep of his pasture. ~Psalm 100:3
This sheep is going to bed. ‘Night and blessings to you, bloggy friends~
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