Friday, November 4, 2011

Thinking, That's All: On Thunder and Rain

About this time last year, if you would have asked me where I wanted be, I wouldn't have said here.

Well, actually, I would have said here -- in this skin of a wife, a stay at home mother, a business owner -- but I don't think I would have totally meant it.

Because in my hardest of hearts, I've ached to be a huge rolling roar of thunder, spreading out across the sky, echoing for miles across the flowing, rolling plains that is this online land.

And, maybe, too, I wanted to be rain, quenching thirsts and bringing relief to drought, though I know that's not my composition.

I wanted to grow from a small rumble in the distance to a huge booming storm sounding out for miles and miles.

As if that would make me significant, as if I could garner some identity outside of my world where scrubbing toilets and making meals from scratch and folding never-ending piles of laundry, all which never earns me a byline or recognition or camaraderie.

Slowly, this year, though, as I've begun declaring who I am and proclaiming what I am more than, as I've been seeking to live an intentional life, finding the bigger picture through small moments, I've come to really embrace a deeper, truer identity; I've come to appreciate being a rumble of thunder throughout my small acre of land both online and in person.

This weekend, at The Relevant Conference, I have never been so certain that where I am right now, is exactly where I need to be and where my heart deeply wants to be.

As Ann spoke about how all of our voices, each of us, in every part of our world, both online and in person, are sounds of thunder promising the coming of rain, the coming of Jesus' reign, I could hear truth resound in my mind, first a whisper, but growing, ever so loudly:

"Your small rumblings of thunder matter. Your story? It matters. Who I made you to be matters.
If not to anyone else, it matters to me.
Let go of trying to muster the loudness of her thunder, the boldness of hers, the booming of her and be the thunder I've created you to be."
From the moment our car hit the interstate just a few days prior the moment where Ann brought words to my ponderings, my heart longed, deep-soul-cry longed to be with John and my boys.

Though I was excited to travel with one of my closest, favorite friends and to be among other like-minded beauties and soak in new ideas and words and new whispers from the very Creator of my soul, I still couldn't shake the ache for my family. Though I was heading into my element -- surrounded by women who crave knowing God better and find deep joy in writing and creating and loving their families -- I yearned for John and the boys.

In that moment, as Ann let His words thunder through her small frame and echo throughout the ballroom, I finally realized why I was longing for them so deeply: I finally realized where He was trying to tell me I belonged, where my rumblings of thunder most loudly resounded.

And it's not here in this space.

Or at my Curves.

Nor at my volunteer meetings.

Or anywhere else.

Rather, it's within the four walls of this house. 


It's within the ears and hearts and minds of my husband, my boys, in this family I've been given. 

I think Sally said it best when she shared this weekend something she audibly speaks to her kids:

"The most important book I've been writing ... is you."

So it is for this small resounding echo of thunder, too. And so this small resounding rumble of thunder is exactly who I want to be.

Disclosure: Our trip to Relevant is being generously sponsored by Chevy’s Driving the Midwest who has given us a tank of gas and a Traverse to get there. Our ride is also being fueled by Kawa Japanese and Asian CuisineDr. Reena Jacobs of The Healing GrovesCurves of Lake CountyBigger Picture Blogs and Little Lake County, each of whome have provided one tank of gas for the trip. All opinions expressed are our own.

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