January 2019

Watercolor Art by Kaylene

While meditating this past month on the theme of being loved before we can love, I have often come back to the visual of a person walking through a desert. My thoughts were connected to how so many of us cannot accept how much love we need until we realize how broken we are. Or cannot accept how loved we really are because our souls are so parched, poisoned, or weary.

This led me to think of flowers opening up to the sun and drinking in its life-giving rays. Even in the drier regions of the world, things still bloom in their season. And their beauty opening in those arid places that seem void of life is all the more stunning to the observing eye.

These musings led me to write this short poem: Drink the Rays.

You start so well,

a promising spark,

a flare set to burn, bright.

But lies and snares creep in like snakes,

scales for your tearless eyes.

Your posture slumps

and tugs your view down.

Flare hits a frown,

wounded one;

stay there.

When the way is dark,

the path grows dim,

and all the questions come.

That’s the time for light to shine

from somewhere high above.

Lift up your head

and raise your gaze.

Drink deep the rays,

dear child;

be loved.

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Harbin, 2005

Teaching is a challenging job.

It wasn’t easy in the East when driven students expected me to be the expert who knew everything off the top of my head – and to explain everything to them in terms they could memorize. And it isn’t easy in the West when skeptical students take delight in asking complicated questions just to be obnoxious – or sleep, talk, and play on their phones through class, never realizing what an incredible opportunity they are wasting.

Educators I have known and worked with have faced numerous other difficulties in different environments with students of various ages. From endless workloads to extremely deficient resources to administrators who were not supportive, those men and women demonstrated determination, intelligence, and compassion in the face of difficulty – often all at the same time.

And then there’s the pay…. Suffice it to say, those who hold most teaching jobs aren’t in it for the money. They have to have a particular passion deep inside if they are going to stick with it and teach well.

I recognize that many of my educational colleagues do not share my spiritual beliefs, but I know that I have a choice. I can either choose to try and climb those mountains, conjure those answers, and face those giants on my own. Or I can ask the One I follow, the greatest teacher of all, to empower me.

In the past, I’ve gone down the former path. And some days I’m still tempted to walk that way again. But it has only led to frustration, failure, or burnout. Yet, I know I’m on the better path when I choose the latter and consciously ground my identity as an educator in who He says I am.

(Though I appreciate the love students show me, I can’t depend on that either; students are only with me for a little while, and it’s interesting how their “love” for an instructor is often tied to their course grade.)

When I remember how much He loves me, it gives me an energy and a confidence to teach well. An energy and confidence I could never possess on my own.

Teaching is a challenging job. But I can do it.

Because I’m loved.

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Word Art by Kaylene

I wonder how we know we’re loved.

Is it an unearthly awareness we’re born with? Is that why a child can be picked up by a parent and stop crying in their arms without anything being said?

But what about when we get older? Is it possible, as adults, to innately know we are loved? Or do the scars and disappointments of life mar that sense so that we can never really know again, without some lingering sense of doubt?

What happens in between those infant years and the days of adult enlightenment that leads us to question? In observing many life stories, it’s usually something that breaks the fragile bonds of relationship and trusting, something that requires forgiveness. Often with other people, but always, fundamentally, with God.

What a sweet promise to ponder today. When we cry out to Him, God forgives. And when He forgives, no matter how small or large our offenses were, we are able to lift our eyes and catch a glimpse of His goodness and of His love.

Not just any love. But abounding love. Love without limits. Love that can’t be contained. Love that will certainly spill over to drench the disappointments and smooth the scars.

When we invite it to.

Speak to God honestly. And be loved lavishly.

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Word Art by Kaylene

From the moment we are born until the day we die, what do we need more than anything, in addition to air and water? Love. To be loved and to be able to give love. This is the emotional equivalent of physically inhaling and exhaling.

And I think it’s fitting to think of it in those terms. For, as the story goes, the first person was formed from dust. And only when God breathed into him did the man exist as more than just a product of the earth. With that breath in his lungs, Adam woke up to the knowledge that he was made for a purpose – and that he was loved. And a short time later, he came to be loved not only by the One who had breathed into him but also by the one who was taken from his side.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes it’s easy for me to get frustrated, impatient, or angry with self/others. And at the root of it all, I think there is a degrading belief that I came from dust so I’m not worth any more than dust, and the people around me came from dust so they’re not worth much more than dust either. This realization sobers me.

While it’s true and humbling to recall we have come from dust, we are filled with so much more than that. And though we have messed up or let others down, when we are refilled with the love we need, there is a potential in us to BE so much more than that.

Scripture speaks to this too. God is a Potter and we are wet clay in His hands. He’s not giving up on His work until all of our edges are smooth and all of our imbalanced spots are evened out. Just like dust gains limitless value when it houses heavenly breath, wet clay gathers infinite worth under the touch of the most masterful Artist.

Take a moment today to deeply breathe in and out, to feel the worth you carry deep inside…

YOU ARE LOVED. 💛

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