Love This in Particular

One of my all time favorite authors is Sarah Bessey, the Canadian woman who channels all the mothering and fierceness of Molly Weasley with a strong dose of the Holy Spirit thrown in. Sarah has taught me more about how to lead, pray, and think than almost any other pastor I can name. She’s also one of the most incredible writers I know, stringing together words in sentences so beautiful they make me sit in wonder at how gifted she is. A few months ago she sent out a post in her newsletter called Love This in Particular, about the discipline of loving the very specific things right in front of us, and how doing so helps us love the messy, broken world we are a part of once again. Our big world is full of things that make it hard to love at times—horrific gun violence, racial inequality, diseases, leaders who do more harm than good, and disasters that wreck havoc on communities. I don’t know that I can love the big big general world right now, some things feel too overwhelming and broken, but I can love the specific, tiny, intimate, particular ways God is daily showing me He is love and He is good.

Love the sputtering sound of the coffee in the morning as it finishes brewing, calling me from my bed to start a new day. Love the sound of the dishwasher clicking on in the evening, full from a day of feeding those in my home food that nourishes their bodies and hopefully souls. Love the sound of the Hamilton soundtrack being played for the millionth time in my son’s bedroom and the Audrey Assad pandora station on my kitchen Alexa. Love the crumbs of purple kinetic sand scattered all over the back patio, leftover from the very elaborate imaginary ice cream shop my boys created with new friends from church. Love the pile of freshly folded and dry beach towels ready to go back in the car to await another family beach evening. Love the way David Rose discovered he was worthy of being loved as the seasons of Schitts Creek went by. Love the snapping of another puzzle piece into place as the image begins to take shape. Love the sound of the laser gun fights happening in my backyard right now, my boys and three neighbor kids battling to the end. Love the steam rising from the bath, awaiting two little boys with the dirtiest feet around, the result of a beautiful day outside barefoot. Love the sound of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix playing through the speakers in Aidan’s room one more time. Love the ruby red merlot swirling in my glass and the cracking open of my library book, signaling the day is over and it’s time to rest.

Love the familiar faces gathered around the family room at church, the same faces that have sat on these couches every Wednesday for over 3 years now talking about God, parenting, marriage, and a myriad of other topics. Love the email from the library telling me my pile of new books for myself and the boys is ready to be picked up. Love a new nail color every week, the grin with only two front teeth from my 9 year old, and the “thank you mamas” from the six year old who has decided to turn into the world’s most polite child this past month. Love the bedtime memories being made with the precocious Ramona Quimby, the adventurous Pippi Longstocking, the hilarious Fudge Hatcher, and the soulfulness of Louis the Swan. Love the few moments of quiet each morning, crossing off one day at a time of my Bible reading plan, slowly making my way through the pages of God’s story. Love the shouts of “one more bike race Mommy!” as the sun begins to sink and the boys avoid coming in for baths. Love the pile of Dog Man books on the coffee table, the Zoey and Sassafrass books on one end table, and Bear Grylls books on a nightstand. Love the smoke swirling upwards from the grill as I turn the kabobs for Saturday night dinner. Love the sound of the doorbell and the many little faces from the neighborhood asking if the boys can play. Love the sincerity of Ted Lasso, the conviction of Jed Bartlett, and the growing up of Alexis Rose. Love the closed eyes, lashes brushing sweet little boy cheeks, one’s arms around a stuffed cheetah and the other holding a small well-loved giraffe.

Love the call from Wendell Barry to “practice resurrection” daily. Love the reminder from Rachel Held Evans that “God's kingdom is like a bunch of outcasts and oddballs gathered at a table, not because they are rich or worthy or good, but because they are hungry, because they said yes. And there's always room for more.” Love the words from Henri Nouwen, reminding us that “self rejection is the greatest enemy of the spiritual life because it contradicts the sacred voice that calls us the Beloved.” And love the reminder from Fredrick Buechner that “this is the world, beautiful and terrible things will happen, do not be afraid.”