God-Sized

Several weeks ago, our pastor gave a Sunday morning sermon on “God-sized projects”.

Then, a few weeks later, I figured he must’ve lost his sermon notes or run into a temporary bout of memory loss when … he gave another one, mostly of the same script, same stories.

And most of the congregation, I fear, failed to notice.  I chuckled and flipped back to my notes, then followed along, grateful for the handwriting rest (I’m a frantic note-taker with fibromyalgia, which often equals swollen knuckles and painful fingers), and followed along.

And while I still don’t know what caused the redundant subject matter… I know this:

God whispered.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear Me fully the first time.  What’s your God-sized project, Cara?  What are you trusting Me to accomplish?”

And as this morning brings a gloriously rare bit of deep, lingering quiet in pajamas and bare feet, I ponder and imagine-pray what might be on His agenda for me.  And I sort of flitter among and through the thought that every day brings tasks I can’t complete without His help. 

And I wonder how big we’re talkin’ here, Lord.

Potty training, at the moment, is a God-sized project, and there are days that it feels insurmountable just to get a shower (or, dare I dream… a nap?!).  And I wonder.  Does painting my kitchen cupboards count?  Planning a summer vacation for twelve on a budget of $35 a person (surely that one, right)?  Just staying afloat through a summer of mad-dashes and constant movement?  How big should I be dreaming here?

How big is God?

And I spy, from my window, a busy grand-daddy dropping everything to push his beautiful granddaughter, all wild blonde curls and frog-faced rain boots, on a swing… higher… higher!  She splits open with giggles and he nods quietly, approving of all she is, right there in that moment.  And I see God in that too.  In that gentle moment, that quiet stopping.  Thirty seconds, maybe sixty… and now they’re done.  Is God big enough to be that… small, too?  Those tiny fleeting moments that amount to the significance of a life spent… on swings, in rocking chairs on porches, in cupcakes and hard-won smiles and three-word love notes?  

Yes.

It makes me giggle.  To dream that my sitting here, peaceful, with coffee and manipulating words… this can be a project Just. His. Size.  And bending low to serve another, in quietness… that too.  And letting my finite mind imagine the huge, gargantuan dreams He’s working His hands around, smoothing into my heart.  Huge like the dream of putting together a conference for women, huge like mobilizing for disaster relief, huge like serving in the far and wide, and huge like applying lotion to sunburned shoulders or sharing a pink popsicle with a cranky kid on a hot day. 

And I see that the size of the project is relevant to the impact it makes, not only to the number of people it reaches or amount of hours it takes to accomplish.  A God-sized project can be, I believe, accomplished, sometimes, in one tiny word, one gentle touch given at the right moment, or offered as a lifetime spent in the reach of one righteous pursuit. 

In this quiet, I float in the awareness of just how incredible is this fluid notion of God’s size.  He is big.  He is small.  He is everywhere.  He is all.  He… is.   

I want to thank you, friends, for your grace in my recent absence.  I’m grasping at hours on these busy summer days and chose to mostly step away from the computer for a few weeks to enjoy a visit with my wonderful mother-in-love, who flew out a couple thousand miles to spend time with us, and get the school year wrapped up.  Our senior graduated yesterday, so its been a momentous couple of weeks.  Now, I’m making the attempt at returning to life as usual, and I hope we’ll see each other around more, even as I attempt to regulate my sometimes-crazy summer schedule.  I’ve missed you.  


Grateful with Ann, today and every day... I'm laid up with back pain at the moment and am not feeling up to digging out the journal, so I'm recording these today without numbers.  From the three-hundreds, somewhere.

... Back pain that stops me for rest and physical/mental unwinding.
... Pool hours, here, nearly every day, giving the kids lots of fresh-air and laughter time.
... A birthday in the house, today.  Blonde boy turns 14, complete with chocolate cake and video games.
... Mustard yellow.
... His banner over me is love.  Only, and always, love.
... Twinkle lights.
... Pinterest.com
... Mom moving in to her new place, and loving it.
... Sunshine through linen, filtered into pure, clear, light.
... Lunch plans, tomorrow.
... A life that ticks on, with help, while I take it easy.