Friday, October 29, 2004

In the Roar of Waterfalls...

Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me. (Psalm 42:7, NIV)

Sometimes, when I'm brittle, parched and every next thing looms over my head, threatening to snap me into pieces, I get still, often just for a second. It takes at least that long to tune out my droning thoughts, my thumping heart, my growling stomach, to hear the song of my heart, whispering softly in the rush of many waters.

"Praise the Lord, O my soul and all that is within me . . ." says the whisper as I stop fighting, stop trying to swim and allow myself to be swept upstream, pulled toward the thunder.

Toward the waterfall.

The surge of it deafens me, frightens me, thrills me. The aching emptiness, the two-drops-below-E shallow in me calls to the depths of that pool, so close but so far, just over the edge. The waves wash over my faults, my lies, my fears. I close my eyes and wait for it, this plunge into the pulsing cold, fall into the depths of Jesus . . .

BRRING!

"Hello, this is the RepublicanDemocraticParty with a message from JohnKerry'sUncleBarbaraBushTheThinkTankFromMars reminding you to vote early--"

I hang up the phone, try to dive, swim, anything, but it's too late. My heartbeat is the thunder now. My fears the thunder. Maybe if I can just--

"Mom! The baby bit me!"

"Honey, I'm sure he didn't. He meant to kiss you I'm sure--Baby, don't do that. Come here--"

"NOOOOOO! HE BIT MY BUTTT!"

As said butt dives in my direction, I prepare for the collision, balance the baby on my other hip, still trying to reach for my Bible. The phone rings again. I freeze. It's probably the Bush twins calling to see how my day is going. Or Al Sharpton calling with a friendly voting reminder. Still, it could be my editor . . .

"MOM! It's the dentist! Says we're supposed to be there now."

I let the butt-biter slide to the floor and check my trusty notebook. "Nope. That's tomorrow. The 27th."

Said kid laughs. "Today IS the 27th."

Blank stare. "Tell her we're on our way."

Before heading for the shower, my daughter conveys the message, hangs up the phone and shakes her head with that "and these are the people who run the world" look. For once, I'm thinking maybe she's onto something.

But then, as a lego bangs my temple, I hear it, coming from the bathroom, muted, but just enough--the sound of waves and breakers, the roar of waterfalls, the voice of God. I pause, whispering my river words.

"Praise the Lord, O my soul and all that is within me . . ."

It's just a moment, but enough. There'll be prayers in the car, I can take the Bible to the dentist--and I should really try and work on those edits too. How long will we be there?

The freakout child realizes the situation and comes wailing down the hall. "We're supposed to be at dentist? NOW? I mean how are we going to do that? We've got ballet and she's got volleyball and didn't daddy say to--"

"Find your buddy and get in the car." I have to stop her before she hyperventilates. I have no idea where she gets it from. Yeah right.

With that, I stab my toes into my shoes, sidestep Mount Fold-Me, and make up a song about fractions to sing in the car. A song about taking an empty, dirty glass and filling it a little at a time.

That friends, is pretty much how my life goes . . . on a good day. :) Still, one of my favorite authors, Lisa Samson, seems to think that some of the things I write here are deep? (the other three people who read this thing know better). LOL

I am neither deep nor wide (spiritually speaking, the hips? another matter). I'm just a manic mama trying to reach for her dreams while holding on to her famiily, her faith and her friendships. A shallow puddle on the way to the waterfall.

So come often and splash around on your way to the River of Life. Jesus will clean everything away, even the muddy remnants of me from between your toes.

Hope,
Mary

... and I saw the glory of the God of Israel coming from the east. His voice was like the roar of rushing waters, and the land was radiant with his glory. (Ezekiel 43:2, NIV)

7 comments:

Angie Poole said...

Butt-biters.

Man, Mary, what symbolism!

You are *so* deep.

:-)

Love you,

Angie

Anonymous said...

I'm still right and that blog just proved it. :-)

lisa (for some reason I'm not logged in under me, so i'm really not anonymous, although somedays, i wish i was!)

Anonymous said...

To the tune of Manic Monday...

"Just another manic mummy
I wish I wasn't sluggy,
'cause sluggy is ugly
hubby doesn't wanna hug me,
just another manic mummy."

See, I'm not deep either.

And I can't even rhyme. And the kids aren't from the UK; they never call me Mummy. And I just started three sentences with the word "and". And I know I'm not supposed to do that. It's a literary cardinal sin. And I don't even CARE.

I have however, had biting incidents from zealous teethers, and hysterical pre-teens. I just wanted to say you are not alone. And I love your voice, even when you aren't deep calling to deep--but you always are.

I love you, girl.

bobbie said...

but oh, how a woman can hear the voice of god in the shower of another - that is deep, and it calls to deep mary. not shallow one bit woman!

Anonymous said...

Lovely!
Just googeled "deep calls to deep" to find the psalms reference, and BAMM--lovely!
Been awhile since I've listened to someone speak so sweatly of their relationship to Jesus. Winsome for sure!
~Heather

R. Elena Tabachnick said...

I love the way you write!

Thank you.

You might enjoy 2 takes on "Deep Calls to Deep" on my lectio blog Spiritread.blogspot.com - 1 @ /2006/11/psalm-42-deep-calls-to-deep.html

the other @ /2006/10/new-psalm-psalm-4-remember-god.html

Elena

Anonymous said...

awesome awesome awesome. so lovely.... :) blessings to you, friend. :)