Skip to main content

Postscript: The love that fills

Sometimes I wish I could just throw a postscript on something after I've been trying to live it out for a few weeks. So here ya go. This is a postscript to my Hands open, Hands empty entry from about a month ago.

I just keep thinking about Jesus.

You see, He gave His hands up to be opened and emptied...
And then, they were spread wide.
And then, they were pierced.
And then, the Love that filled them was salty, thick and red.

He bled His love out through hands and feet.

Sometimes that is the kind of Love that fills our hands. The raw and bleeding kind.

Sometimes we wish that God would speak to us as a teddy bear, rather than a lion.

And sometimes we just sit there like Job and hear the words, "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?"

I just keep thinking about Jesus.

Jesus in the garden, "Not my will, but yours."
Jesus asking Peter, "Do you Love me?"
Jesus, hands open and empty, with holes in them for eternity, as the angels sing "Holy, Holy, Holy."

I think that He wants us to know Him, to know this kind of Love. This is the Love that fills as it pours through us. It takes all the ragged and bleeding parts of us and brings us back where we belong. He stands there, hands spread wide and waiting.


Popular posts from this blog

We Must Weep

A few weeks ago the darkness took over the sky. Now, anytime after 3pm, you can feel the downward pull of gravity telling you to sink into your bones.The same week that the sky became dark in Massachusetts, the temperatures dropped and the dread of winter became a talking point in day-to-day conversation. People here have not recovered from the winter of 2015 when snow piled 9 feet high in the span of 6 weeks. There is a tension in their voice when they talk about shoveling and being stuck indoors.

I love the fall. I love the change of the sky to clear blue when the air becomes dry. I love the colors of the leaves and the quiet rain. But, this fall has not been restful but restless for me. Under the trees laden with wet leaves I have not found peace and quiet, but a silent roar of anger. It is too soon. Not enough. I am not ready.
I can feel the vertigo of my sadness. Do not let anyone tell you that grief is not a physical process. Our bodies will tell us so many things if we l…

Five Friday Feminist Finds and Fun


I've been posting infrequently and erratically, it seems, probably due to the little person who has recently taken over most of our free time.

But, I thought this would be a fun way to get back into the swing of sharing a little bit more on the inter-webs. So here you go.

Whether you would unashamedly describe yourself as a "feminist," or no, whether male or female, East Coast, West Coast, or international community, I hope you enjoy this list of 5 things that have been making my female heart happy and my lady brain think new thoughts.

1. Soy Yo (Bomba Eséreo)

The Kind of Mom I Thought I Would Be

I’m not the kind of mom that I thought I would be.

Truth be told, I didn’t have very many conscious expectations about what kind of mom I would be. It was shockingly easy for us to have a baby. We didn’t have a long wait or struggle before we were pregnant, we just were. Four months after we were married I held a positive pregnancy test in my shaking hands.
Theoretically and practically, we were prepared to be parents. I had worked with children since I was 14. Both my husband and I had friends who with babies and toddlers, both of us wanted a family, and we both had jobs in our fields of study that allowed us the flexibility to change our “five year” plan. We quickly became excited that we were starting our family.
But, somewhere in the flurry of planning, my subterranean mind was working and carving out caves full of ideas. Different visions of myself as a mother had been formed without me thinking through my self-expectations. They came into my mind slowly, in the months followin…