bloodshots and waterfalls


“He sent out his word and healed them,
    and delivered them from their destruction.”
~Psalm 107:20, the Sunday gradual~

I saw this beautiful girl for the very first time.  She’s one of the teachers in our new homeschool co-op, which means she’s not only a girl, she’s a woman.  She was singing, for this was her class, Music and Movement.  It wasn’t her face, or her body, or her two special needs children standing beside her that made her most beautiful.  Surely there was beauty there, but it wasn’t the sight that caught my eye.  It was the sound.  It was her soul.

She was singing, stumbling on the first day of class, but singing. I’d seen her in the lobby by herself, playing with her little ones. She was waiting. She waited two hours to teach that class, and I wondered why, why on earth anyone would wait that long in her shoes. One of her children had leg braces, a walker, endlessly wandering up and down the halls. I walked up and down the halls alone-all of my children in classes-remembering the days.

The time came near for her class.  She packed up the Legos and gathered her bags and I followed behind with my two youngest sons.  We entered the classroom and I assured my boys it was gonna be okay.  She looked at the boys and the girls and paying no attention to the moms in the room she plugged in her phone and turned up the music.  I didn’t know the song, and I’d never heard of “for King and Country”.  They began with musical chairs.

She was happy.  She was happy in a way that would confuse people, probably even offend people.  The kids walked around the chairs in circles, and she twirled around the burning bush, for the crowd was completely invisible to her.  The other moms smiled from the back row of chairs.  I did the same thing, for a while, until the chorus called me out.  I became like the love of a child again, and I couldn’t sit still.  I stood up and started walking.

Her joy was displayed in song and in story.  She told them of her love for Jesus, and she told them of His love for her, His love for every one of them.  He’s the God who can do anything, even wound to heal, for the wound that the lovers rejected has become the breath of heaven. There’s a Cana so simple and strong enough to melt mountains.  He’s a Wine so forever and true who purely makes glad the hearts of men.  Her song made me want to dance.

So I did.


“Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,
    for his wondrous works to the children of man.”
~Psalm 107:21~

2 thoughts on “bloodshots and waterfalls

  1. Reblogged this on Church Set Free and commented:
    Where is church, what is church, how do we church – how should we church?

    Without any awareness, I find myself asking and answering these kind of questions as I absorb Rebekah’s post. Q&A not in her words nor in her pictures.

    The Q&A arise in me. Rebekah causes me to ask and answer unknown questions with unspoken answers. Rebekah connects me with something much deeper than just words and pictures.

    And I have no wish to rationalise why. I am simply thankful she has this gift.

    I see our Lord and Father telling me what “church” really means in this post – as clear as day and without any ambiguity.

    What about you?

    (as always, comments are disabled here, please converse with Rebekah over at her place, thank you)

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