I Opened my Heart, and Then I Winced: On disconnecting from technology, beings still, fear, and love

There’s something about the sun when it is warm, but not too warm, that stills my body. A blanket on the grass, and a gentle breeze, and suddenly I have forgotten all the work undone.

The warm sun quiets my busyness.

The breeze blows away my constant restless doing of things.

The summer air soothes me, teaches me to just BE.

I lean back in the arms of God’s creation, and I rest.

Not long after I wrote that last post on setting aside technology, I tried it.

I walked away from the computer, and I left my phone behind. I grabbed an old sheet, and I walked with the children down to the pond. I had no agenda. We were not going to get anything done. No weeding, no teaching, no deliberate exercising.

I spread out the blanket, and I sat.

I sat,

with open hands and open eyes and an open lap.

The children buzzed around, playing with sticks, showing me this and that. I listened to every word, I responded with enthusiasm and eye contact. When they wanted to sit by me, I pulled them closer with welcoming hands. Some of them did sit, for a moment or two, soaking up their available mommy and her affection. One boy laid his head on me until he noticed a stick that needed to be thrown into the water. He ran off.

A few minutes later, his sister took his spot.

Aggie sang quietly, and laid her head on my lap. She’s one of the big kids, so she does not get my lap to herself very often. I stroked her hair because I know she loves it when I do that.  

Do you see it? Do you notice the scar on her head right there?

I wear a matching scar on my heart.



I sat there in the warm sun, far away from my jobs and my busyness, and my fingers played in her hair. I could “see” the empty spot in her brain where the tumor used to be. My heart winced, reminded of the great risk that comes with loving this child, every child. 


My heart winced and drew back, afraid of pain and loss. 
But the sun and the breeze and the grace of God soothed even my heart, even this heart with this scar. 


A tight heart braced for loss and for pain is a closed heart.  
Open hearts receive and love. And open hearts get hurt.


Father, How could I ever love another if I did not know Your great love for me?  Conquer the fear in me, and teach me to stay open to love, despite the risk.  
In the name of Jesus, who poured out his blood and His heart for me,
Amen

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How about you?
Do you feel the temptation to keep your heart closed for fear of pain and loss?
Do you keep yourself busy and distracted with technology or something else to avoid this whole issue?

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Have you read our story yet?
Weak and Loved: A Mother-Daughter Love Story by Emily Cook
 Now available on Amazon.com $9.99 
kindle $4.99 
epub $4.99 
Aggie had a brain tumor that disrupted her young life; her mother’s sin and selfishness disrupted her best attempts to care for her. Written from the perspective of a mother who suffers with her child, Weak and Loved allows readers to experience the struggles of faith and encouragement of God. Readers will enter the difficult, earthy, and sometimes humorous world of a sick child, and be pleased to find the beauty of God's love in Christ even there.