I am the type of person that likes to have things so, so. I am a creative perfectionist. In fact it has taken me this long to really start a blog, because my perfection sometimes stands in the way of my ability to actually create without fear of failure.
I am that way with life too. I like being in control. I want my garage just perfect in case my neighbor running with her dog runs by. I assume she will conclude that I am neat and orderly, and yes, know that I have it together. ( I hear what you are thinking, Yes, I am sure that is what she is thinking when she is running with her dog.)
When in reality if you saw my garage today, it is a mess. And I hate it when Zadyn opens the door because my vision of perfection, is a heap of work yet to be done. I don't have it cleaned out, or figured out for that matter. So at my request the garage door stays down most of the time. I think there are a lot of us living life that way.
It was one long afternoon, of endless laundry and piles of work to be caught up on my desk. I had made about six trips up stairs to put laundry away in Awan's room. I let out a sigh of relief as I made my last trip down the stairs to hear, " Mom come here!" With dread, I took another big sigh, and strained my efforts back up the stairs to her room. She came running out so excited, grabbed me by the hand and lead me and Jeremy into her room.
In the center of the room was her small pink table for two. Chairs covered for a grand occasion, with pillow cases, blankets as tablecloths covered the small metal table, and a center piece of color rocks completed the decor. She had placed a pink Bible at one chair, and a pink devotional at the other. With a huge smile she said, "Surprise!" " A date for you and Daddy." It was perfect.
We took our places and she ran to her closet grabbed a folder. She began pulling out white pages with colorful markings and scratches of drawings on them. She looked up from the folder, and said, " They are my songs." We looked at each other, with a grin. Her little hand with chipped blue fingernail polish, wrapped around to meet, three small strings, the fourth string waving in the air as a flag of independence attached in one spot, the others gone. My first thought was what is she doing? You can't play that thing, its broken.
I began to smile, and laugh, and cry. She embrace her three string guitar, and committed her heart and sang to it. It was beautiful.
It was then that I realized that I wanted to live my life like her and her and her three string guitar. Though broken, and she obviously didn't have it all figured out, she had the only thing that mattered right. She was free. She sang from sheets of scribbles, her song. It was her guitar, broken or not, it was the only one she had, so she wanted to use it to the best she could.
We as adults lack the freedom of living out our life song on a three string guitar. We are to afraid that we haven't got it figured out. We have decided we will enjoy it once we fix it. Sometimes when we see things that are broke in our life, we first try to fix them, or at times we don't even do that, we throw it out. Or rather put the garage door down and hide from it.
There is music to be made. I have a song to sing. I must make the decision to pick up my three string guitar life, and to embrace it.
As for Zadyn he is now enjoying the fun from Mom deciding to live with our garage door up, making a journey out of the discovery of things not trying to fix them or throw them away.
Do you have a three string guitar? When was the last time you played it?
Some have asked if we are going to do an adoption blog. My answer is yes. But it is about the adoption of my life and my families life being adopted into loving, free arms of Christ, our true Abba Father.
This blog is about my three stringed guitar life, broken and not fixed. But the journey to embrace it with freedom to sing songs of everlasting praise, and the freedom only found in Christ's love.
"Return to me for I have paid the price to set you free." Isaiah 44:22
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