Weak Knees

Last Friday (our Sabbath) we had a wonderful family walk/trip to the bazaar.  There weren’t too many people out and it was nice to enjoy the beautiful weather and quietness of the morning. Our trip wrapped up with a short stop on the vegetable street...it all went downhill from there...

I like to buy my own veggies when I can. kAkA does a great job, but it is somewhat disappointing when I ask for eggplant and he returns with okra, etc. 

We have an unspoken agreement…I buy the veggies while A manhandles Little t…or Little t manhandles A…not sure which way it goes, but it is usually crazy. Friday found Little t adamant that he would.not sit in his stroller. A tried to accommodate him in letting him get out, which worked for all of 3 seconds. Little t quickly tried to tip a tray of tomatoes over, suck on a bicycle tire, pick up handfuls of mud and take a dip in the jewey (ditch full of garbage and sewer water). Poor A couldn’t keep up with Little t and keep a handle on the stroller.  I finally got what I wanted and we got out of there.  Little t screamed for a full 5 years when we strapped him back in the stroller to go home, but we made it. 

We opened the gate to our yard zoo to a barking dog, insistent little girls, our neighbor working on his motorcycle, a hungry little boy, a missing bird, and a birthday party to attend in 5 minutes.  A, still stressed from the bazaar didn’t handle the conglomeration too well, especially the girls insisting we hurry up and run over to the party.  Saying we were both on edge heading to the party is an understatement.

Only minutes into the party, a very tired and hungry Little t smacked his head, refused to eat anything offered and resorted to tipping plates and cups over. A took him home to get him ready for his nap and I followed shortly after.  As we were getting some food poked down the kid, we exchanged a few terse words about the morning and A (reluctantly) headed back to the party.

I sat down to breathe for a minute after putting Little t down for his nap and caught a glimpse of the t.v. that was on. What had been a cartoon that was distracting Little t as we changed his diaper had turned into a memorial to a dead religious leader (very common in this part of the world). Pictures of beautiful landscapes, and verses from the Quran written in calligraphy came across the screen to a background of music/chanting/prayers. 

As I reached for the off button, a music video came on and I found myself watching. Photos of war and people grieving were mixed with photos of people praying; on their knees with their faces to the ground or looking up to the sky with their hands raised.  I didn’t understand most of the song, only something about god being great and Satan. If I didn’t know better, I could have easily assumed that it was put together by some Christ.ian group. I stood there, in the quiet of my house, surrounded by groceries from the morning's trip, and was moved by the Spirit speaking to me. 

It stirred me deep in my soul and I have been thinking about it all week.  In the quiet moments of these days, my heart is drawn by my Creator to weep for those who pray, seemingly without ceasing and in vain.

How many times in one’s life will a person here go to their knees as they repeat the words that fall from their tongue, ‘god is great’?  

How many times do I fall to my knees and beg mercy and hope for those around me grasping at straws? 

My knees are weak, because I do not use them. 

I get lost in the hustle and bustle of life.  Often I find myself more worried about vegetables than the people around me. I worry a lot about what affects my life. I focus on my boy, my husband, my time, my workout, my blog, my book, my my my etc. 

How much more should I be driven to my knees each day because I KNOW that the One I call to hears me?  

I stand forgiven. 

I am redeemed. 

I come before the throne of grace with confidence. 

Except…I don’t come before the throne enough.

I long for a day when every tribe and tongue will gather around that throne together.  I believe that people from here will be among them. I long just as much for people here today to fall to their knees before the Creator and bask in the Hope they have found in Him. 

Maybe it is just me, but it gives me goosebumps to think about how powerfully these people could worship if they had Hope in their hearts. They are driven to their knees thousands of times in their lives by the need to please one who is far off. Think about what they would do if they worshipped the One who dwells in their midst!

Some days seem futile, but shouldn’t those be the days where the time on my knees is the greatest?

I read this quote by Henri Nouwen talking about St. Francis of Assisi and it resonates with what I am trying (admittedly unsuccessfully) to say:  

“There were many wars, conflicts, and much poverty and misery in the thirteenth century, but we do not remember the political struggles and the socioeconomic events of that century. We remember one man who lived in the midst of it and prayed, and prayed, and prayed until his hands and feet were pierced with the wounds of Christ himself. Who will be the St. Francis of our age?” -Henri Nouwen, Seeds of Hope