Among the things they said were:
- You are a safe haven
- You are a willing listener
- You know my deepest darkest stuff and you love me
- You are constant
- You are a confidence keeper
One of them went so far as to say that she could not express her love in words, and that she was thankful for the day I was born because meeting me might have been the best day of her life.
This exercise struck me (and always does) because I know that most people wonder at some point whether they are doing much, or whether they can be seen at all . It reminded me of two women in the Bible...but I'll get to that.
After being sappy we went to cheesecake factory and ordered several different kinds. We had planned to go back to campus and watch movies and eat cheesecake, but, members of my Virginia family intercepted that plan. We dropped one of the girls back at campus and picked up a game, then we headed to the house where my VA family lives. I was excited to be in a real house, and even though this family has loved me for a long time, I had never been behind the door of this one. I conquered the steps and was greeted by the Rupert (the Great, Great) the biggest dog I have ever seen in 27 years alive. He's a barker, but not a mean one. He wanted to let us all know who was in charge. You know, it was his party, and he could bark if he wanted to!
Ah, Rupert. I decided, though, that he was not going to bark at me the whole time, that we were going to be on proper terms. So, when I got all the way in the house as he barked and growled (which was humorous and certainly not the dangerous kind of growl) and drooled a ton because he's HUGE, I did what any well trained lawyer would, and engaged in a good will negotiation with King Rupert.
I dropped to my knees on the living room floor and placed my hands on the sides of Rupert's head while rubbing it.
"Oh Rupert! You're ok! It's ok! We're friends! I'm one of YOUR people!" Nose to nose we were, as he looked me square in my blue eyes, while I wore a sweatshirt even bearing the name of this family I love so much. No one else saw that dog's face but me at that moment, but I would almost bet he understood me. I have never seen an animal respond to me that way. His eyes just softened and he stayed there face to face with me, looking right at me, silent, until we made him move. :) While we sang and laughed he wandered around nearly tripping Jenny, and never barked again, until he went outside, and then...well... I hope no one was sleeping ;). Rupert's response to me struck me too, and it will be interesting to see what he does when he sees me again after I come back. I wonder if he'll remember my face. I love him.
They put a candle on my cheesecake, and they sang to me. The candle was a trick. Every time I extinguished it with my breath, it sparked and reignited...I got three wishes before it decided it was finished...HA!
Around the table we played the game the girls bought for me, the game of Things (it's fun, and if you love games like I do, you might enjoy this one.)
After that we moved into the living room for a friendly round of catch phrase. How I lived 27 years without Catch Phrase, I'll never know, but the word nerd in me was thrilled.
We laughed so hard I thought my insides would burst. It was the coolest night, but it made me remember something. This night was just how I wanted it, just a few people I loved very much, not many, just loving life and time together.
If you were to record it in a book, you wouldn't say much about it, just an ordinary day with some fun, you wouldn't know any of the people who sat around that table for any reason in the public world, but I know them, and I cherished the time we spent.
We sometimes feel like we have gotten lost in the shuffle, all of us have been there, but that candle, and that dog, and that home, and those people, they reminded me of two women in the Bible. The widow with her two mites, and the woman with the issue of blood.
At 16 I was compared to the latter by a woman who said the Lord spoke to her about my life. She said that of all the people in the crowd, I was being singled out and seen, that I was pushing into Jesus, and that I had taken power from the hem of His garment. She was at the end of herself, convinced, though people mocked her, that Jesus would do all that she needed done. They made her a joke, and she was brave. Rejected and broken, she took herself to the Savior with fervor unmatched, and when she did, she found Him willing to mend her.
She was the least of these. She was unclean, they said, insane, they scoffed. Nothing could help her, they knew it, and she had nothing left, in her body, or her bank account, she had nothing.
But...when she approached, she took power from Him, and He turned to acknowledge her.
For years I've been understanding that comparison to my life, and very grateful for the way God spoke through that woman to leave a mark on my heart that never left, but, on the couch, playing catch phrase and bargaining with Rupert, I came to an understanding of the passage that I had never had before.
She's mentioned in three of the Gospels, the ones termed "synoptic", namely, Matthew, Mark, and Luke.
Matthew 9:20-22, Mark 5:25-34, and Luke 8:43-48. You'll never learn her name, you won't know anything about her, except that she was relentless in her pursuit of the One she knew could make things better. He did. He didn't ask her family history, or her occupation before she fell ill, He didn't need to know, though I know He knew her forward and backward anyway, but He didn't care.
She receives only one designation in the story, and it is from Jesus Himself. In all three of the narratives, all three, He addresses her as "daughter." Really? I mean...REALLY?! Maybe that's what you're thinking.This broken woman who has been bleeding for 12 years at the time Jesus interacts with her, she runs for Him, her last chance, and she catches up. When she does, He is touched. Physically, yes, but, also, in His heart, for her unrelenting desire to catch Him has increased in her the desire to take what He was freely willing to give. The Greek word used in this passage is the same word used for a daughter of one's body, or a female descendant. Jesus was calling this woman with a bloody, broken, weary, and rejected past His own.
"Daughter." For some reason, until yesterday, that isn't what resonated with me, but now, it's my absolute favorite part. There I was on the couch, knowing full well my status as a daughter to this Jesus, but, as I laughed in that living room I realized I was sitting in the home of a man who had chosen to call me the same. Daughter. That's a word most girls hear a lot of, but it wasn't so for me, and those words, mean such a great deal to me that I get a bit angry when people betray their calling as parents. Daughter.
Jesus didn't care that this child of His was the laughing stock of the last 12 years. He saw both her broken body, and her broken heart, and He called both His own, He took them and loved them, He loved her.
So it has been done to me, and behind that door, on that couch, I gained new understanding of the value of my own life. I was glad for the trick candle, and the laughs, the sweet dog, and the designation of "daughter" given to me by a papa who shows me Jesus all the time.
I wondered if that woman assumed for a second that her moment of relentless fervor would change so many lives beyond her own. I wonder if she knew how cherished she really was as a daughter. I wonder if she understood the weight of her choice to approach the situation boldly and with uncompromising understanding that it would make a difference. I wonder these things. I wonder as I remember those girls telling me what they valued in me, and specifically the one who said her life has been transformed, I thought about the trick candle, and how we laughed together, how wonderful it felt to be under this roof, how much I loved this family, and how I knew they all loved me. I thought about the look on that dog's face, the one that no one else saw, though I wish they could have, they were all behind him. I thought about how her heart must have jumped inwardly as she realized she was His. She must have been so grateful for the life she had lived up to now because she knew without question that He was to be glorified through her every step, broken, brutal, and bleeding as they may have been for her. I wonder if it would have overwhelmed her to hear so many stories like mine, stories of people blessed by her. Blessed because she took full advantage of a hole in a pressing crowd.
I know my heart leaps to know I am a daughter, in heaven, but also on earth. I know I am grateful for the struggles I've had, all of them, because He gets glory when they don't conquer me, and without question, I am overwhelmed every day to know that by my life, people have been forever changed, and I am grateful that the God of the Ages, the King of all Kings, saw fit to call me Daughter, in heaven, and earth, to make a hole just my side in the midst of a pressing crowd, and to let my hand be one that touches Him...
I'm undone. The look on my face now is much like the look of King Rupert's face. One of understanding... and just like I hope Rupert remembers my face as much as I will remember his (it will be interesting to see if he barks again), I pray I always understand at least reasonably, that my place in the crowd is mine alone, and He didn't mark that spot, that Sovereign spot, by mistake or chance...no, there's a hole in that pressing crowd just for this daughter, and so long as I am on my knees seeking His gaze, much like Rupert, He will be right there, face to face, identifying me as His own.
Pressing In,
Courtney
After being sappy we went to cheesecake factory and ordered several different kinds. We had planned to go back to campus and watch movies and eat cheesecake, but, members of my Virginia family intercepted that plan. We dropped one of the girls back at campus and picked up a game, then we headed to the house where my VA family lives. I was excited to be in a real house, and even though this family has loved me for a long time, I had never been behind the door of this one. I conquered the steps and was greeted by the Rupert (the Great, Great) the biggest dog I have ever seen in 27 years alive. He's a barker, but not a mean one. He wanted to let us all know who was in charge. You know, it was his party, and he could bark if he wanted to!
Ah, Rupert. I decided, though, that he was not going to bark at me the whole time, that we were going to be on proper terms. So, when I got all the way in the house as he barked and growled (which was humorous and certainly not the dangerous kind of growl) and drooled a ton because he's HUGE, I did what any well trained lawyer would, and engaged in a good will negotiation with King Rupert.
I dropped to my knees on the living room floor and placed my hands on the sides of Rupert's head while rubbing it.
"Oh Rupert! You're ok! It's ok! We're friends! I'm one of YOUR people!" Nose to nose we were, as he looked me square in my blue eyes, while I wore a sweatshirt even bearing the name of this family I love so much. No one else saw that dog's face but me at that moment, but I would almost bet he understood me. I have never seen an animal respond to me that way. His eyes just softened and he stayed there face to face with me, looking right at me, silent, until we made him move. :) While we sang and laughed he wandered around nearly tripping Jenny, and never barked again, until he went outside, and then...well... I hope no one was sleeping ;). Rupert's response to me struck me too, and it will be interesting to see what he does when he sees me again after I come back. I wonder if he'll remember my face. I love him.
They put a candle on my cheesecake, and they sang to me. The candle was a trick. Every time I extinguished it with my breath, it sparked and reignited...I got three wishes before it decided it was finished...HA!
Around the table we played the game the girls bought for me, the game of Things (it's fun, and if you love games like I do, you might enjoy this one.)
After that we moved into the living room for a friendly round of catch phrase. How I lived 27 years without Catch Phrase, I'll never know, but the word nerd in me was thrilled.
We laughed so hard I thought my insides would burst. It was the coolest night, but it made me remember something. This night was just how I wanted it, just a few people I loved very much, not many, just loving life and time together.
If you were to record it in a book, you wouldn't say much about it, just an ordinary day with some fun, you wouldn't know any of the people who sat around that table for any reason in the public world, but I know them, and I cherished the time we spent.
We sometimes feel like we have gotten lost in the shuffle, all of us have been there, but that candle, and that dog, and that home, and those people, they reminded me of two women in the Bible. The widow with her two mites, and the woman with the issue of blood.
At 16 I was compared to the latter by a woman who said the Lord spoke to her about my life. She said that of all the people in the crowd, I was being singled out and seen, that I was pushing into Jesus, and that I had taken power from the hem of His garment. She was at the end of herself, convinced, though people mocked her, that Jesus would do all that she needed done. They made her a joke, and she was brave. Rejected and broken, she took herself to the Savior with fervor unmatched, and when she did, she found Him willing to mend her.
She was the least of these. She was unclean, they said, insane, they scoffed. Nothing could help her, they knew it, and she had nothing left, in her body, or her bank account, she had nothing.
But...when she approached, she took power from Him, and He turned to acknowledge her.
For years I've been understanding that comparison to my life, and very grateful for the way God spoke through that woman to leave a mark on my heart that never left, but, on the couch, playing catch phrase and bargaining with Rupert, I came to an understanding of the passage that I had never had before.
She's mentioned in three of the Gospels, the ones termed "synoptic", namely, Matthew, Mark, and Luke.
Matthew 9:20-22, Mark 5:25-34, and Luke 8:43-48. You'll never learn her name, you won't know anything about her, except that she was relentless in her pursuit of the One she knew could make things better. He did. He didn't ask her family history, or her occupation before she fell ill, He didn't need to know, though I know He knew her forward and backward anyway, but He didn't care.
She receives only one designation in the story, and it is from Jesus Himself. In all three of the narratives, all three, He addresses her as "daughter." Really? I mean...REALLY?! Maybe that's what you're thinking.This broken woman who has been bleeding for 12 years at the time Jesus interacts with her, she runs for Him, her last chance, and she catches up. When she does, He is touched. Physically, yes, but, also, in His heart, for her unrelenting desire to catch Him has increased in her the desire to take what He was freely willing to give. The Greek word used in this passage is the same word used for a daughter of one's body, or a female descendant. Jesus was calling this woman with a bloody, broken, weary, and rejected past His own.
"Daughter." For some reason, until yesterday, that isn't what resonated with me, but now, it's my absolute favorite part. There I was on the couch, knowing full well my status as a daughter to this Jesus, but, as I laughed in that living room I realized I was sitting in the home of a man who had chosen to call me the same. Daughter. That's a word most girls hear a lot of, but it wasn't so for me, and those words, mean such a great deal to me that I get a bit angry when people betray their calling as parents. Daughter.
Jesus didn't care that this child of His was the laughing stock of the last 12 years. He saw both her broken body, and her broken heart, and He called both His own, He took them and loved them, He loved her.
So it has been done to me, and behind that door, on that couch, I gained new understanding of the value of my own life. I was glad for the trick candle, and the laughs, the sweet dog, and the designation of "daughter" given to me by a papa who shows me Jesus all the time.
I wondered if that woman assumed for a second that her moment of relentless fervor would change so many lives beyond her own. I wonder if she knew how cherished she really was as a daughter. I wonder if she understood the weight of her choice to approach the situation boldly and with uncompromising understanding that it would make a difference. I wonder these things. I wonder as I remember those girls telling me what they valued in me, and specifically the one who said her life has been transformed, I thought about the trick candle, and how we laughed together, how wonderful it felt to be under this roof, how much I loved this family, and how I knew they all loved me. I thought about the look on that dog's face, the one that no one else saw, though I wish they could have, they were all behind him. I thought about how her heart must have jumped inwardly as she realized she was His. She must have been so grateful for the life she had lived up to now because she knew without question that He was to be glorified through her every step, broken, brutal, and bleeding as they may have been for her. I wonder if it would have overwhelmed her to hear so many stories like mine, stories of people blessed by her. Blessed because she took full advantage of a hole in a pressing crowd.
I know my heart leaps to know I am a daughter, in heaven, but also on earth. I know I am grateful for the struggles I've had, all of them, because He gets glory when they don't conquer me, and without question, I am overwhelmed every day to know that by my life, people have been forever changed, and I am grateful that the God of the Ages, the King of all Kings, saw fit to call me Daughter, in heaven, and earth, to make a hole just my side in the midst of a pressing crowd, and to let my hand be one that touches Him...
I'm undone. The look on my face now is much like the look of King Rupert's face. One of understanding... and just like I hope Rupert remembers my face as much as I will remember his (it will be interesting to see if he barks again), I pray I always understand at least reasonably, that my place in the crowd is mine alone, and He didn't mark that spot, that Sovereign spot, by mistake or chance...no, there's a hole in that pressing crowd just for this daughter, and so long as I am on my knees seeking His gaze, much like Rupert, He will be right there, face to face, identifying me as His own.
Pressing In,
Courtney
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