"Ruined! All ruined!"

He ran into the living room this morning wearing his familiar expression of sadness, an absolutely perfect pout that arcs from the left corner of his delicate little mouth to his right.

"Ruined! All ruined," he cried, wiping at his beautiful green eyes as if he could will the tears not to fall.

My Reece is a soft hearted young man. His world is easily rocked and he reacts with passion both to what pleases him as well as to what he perceives as injustice in his world. And darn it, it simply isn't just when a storm blows up in the middle of the night and sends your outdoor umbrella crashing through your patio table.

He lead me to the patio door and sure enough,...
Ruined! All ruined.

The glass table top lay in shards all over my pavered patio. And the umbrella had been carried to our fence, where I found it lodged between the spindles and one of the rods snapped clean off. And Reece, well he was just heartbroken about it. Now, at first I thought, 'How could this child be so attached to a rusty patio set and a stinkin' umbrella?' He couldn't put it into words, so I had to enter his world of thoughts to understand it. And the answer came. Reece and I spent many early mornings together this past summer; I, reading my bible and Reece indulging in "cold cheese" (his words for brick cheese). We did this, of course, on the back porch at that table. He would get up around 7:45am and join me. It was our special time alone, before the other kids woke up. And now, this special part of his world lay symbolically shattered after the storm.

As I considered Reece's response, how he expressed deep sadness with few words but plenty of emotion, I realized that I sometimes respond this way as well. I go before the throne of grace in prayer and just cannot find the words to tell God what it is that troubles me or causes me unrest. Anyone? Have you felt that way before?

But it's okay.

It really is, because even when our words fail us and we're unable to express what is on our heart, He knows. Our God and Father knows because he can visit even the darkest corners within us and He can read the unspoken troubles that camp there. Look at Psalm 139:1-4 (bolds and italics added by me).

1 O LORD, you have searched me
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.

3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.

4 Before a word is on my tongue
you know it completely, O LORD.

Wow, He knows. But ah, verse 5. Read on...

5 You hem me in—behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.

He knows, but better still? He responds. He absolutely knows and responds. What an incredible word picture of His love and protection to consider being hemmed in, both behind and before while the hands of our Creator are laid upon us. Wow, that is so very comforting. If I will simply be still and know that He is Lord (Psalm 46:10), He just might speak to my very soul. A dear friend from the past calls and wants to take a few minutes to catch up. An email makes us laugh. A far away family member comes to visit. A real life scenario plays out before us and makes us realize our glass is still half full. He knows and responds, and in this we can take comfort.
Thank you, tender hearted Reece, for taking my thoughts down this path today.

Now, on a lighter note, I have to say His protection extends to the practical as well. Because the fact is, we cleaned glass shards in gale force winds just before a second round of storms rolled in this evening. I figured I'd be strapped to a gurney at any moment, little fragments of glass lodged in my eyeballs as I screamed for mercy. Sure, we should have waited for calmer skies before cleaning up the aftermath of the first storm. But, well, we "H's" are nothing if not practical, and what with tomorrow being garbage day and all.........

Toni