02032016_AmberHaines_RememberGodsLove

One of my oldest girlfriends and I have a long-standing joke about each other. I giggle at the way she delicately uses her fingertips to pick anything up. She looks like she’s doing ballet or touching intricate clock parts even when she’s stirring a post of soup or cleaning out a hamster cage. It’s amazing. She’s not a more feminine woman than I am, but she handles the world light as a feather, and it really is something to behold.

She laughs with me at how I handle objects, even tiny things, with my whole hand, a strong, wide grip — like I’ll need the strength of a heavyweight champion to pick up a ladle. I’m a loud worker, a full-forced stirrer, stomper, and laugher. I come at the world with a heavy touch.

I am not a precious thing. I never have been.

In some seasons, I’ll spin around my house less like a dancer and more like a crane heaving a wrecking ball, using every inch of my arms. I throw clothes over my shoulders piled high to get them upstairs. I’m a woman of strong economy in full swing. I don’t walk from one room to another without full-motion cleaning on my way out and distributing everything to its place. I don’t have a princess touch, a princess look, or a princess voice. I have four sons. It has to be this way, my voice a booming attention grabber so they don’t break their necks jumping off the bed.

The hardest thing in the world for me is to sit still. I am not a precious thing. Even when I’m sick, I apologize my way to sleep for not accomplishing more. I have a hard time not seeing myself as a hired servant in the Father’s house — unless I do sit still and reflect on the truth.

In the story of the prodigal son, after squandering his inheritance and coming to great hunger, the son says:

“I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.” {Luke 15:18-21}.

But the father’s response was this:

“‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.” {Luke 15:22-24}

Why, after all this time as a believer, do I deal with myself this way? I know the truth about my standing with God, but the more I see myself as His unresting worker, the harder it is for me to be in His presence at all.

It is the stillness that reminds me. He has brought me into His house. He has called me daughter, maybe even a precious thing.

The more I remember His love for me, the more I’ll rest in that love. The more I remember the ring and the robe is the more I seek to enjoy his presence. I am healthier when I rest, but I know many of us don’t allow ourselves to do it — as if resting is selfish. Maybe rest is a simple matter of fact when we’re in the presence of God. Maybe the stillness sends us out to do what matters with renewed strength. We aren’t even equipped to be servants without stillness before Him, but we also forget we’re daughters without it.

Even after all the good work, is your spirit hungry? This will tell you what to do and where to go. Go to a quiet place, like our Jesus did all the time, and don’t do a thing. Trust the do-ing to the Father a minute. Listen to Him. Ask what He thinks of you.

You are His child. He calls you by name. Look down at your hands. Remember the ring.

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The more I remember God’s love for me, the more I’ll rest in that love. {Tweet this!}

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  • https://susefishblog.wordpress.com SuseFish

    Brilliant

    • http://therunamuck.com amber@therunamuck

      <3

  • Bev @ Walking Well With God

    Amber,
    I am not a delicate magnolia blossom and it is hard for me to imagine God delighting over me…even singing over me at times. Last night, my husband woke me up from a dream in which I was talking in my sleep. I was saying someing about “constant criticism”. I suppose my life has been filled with a lot of criticism, but not by God. Even when I mess up He is there with the ring and the robe. I may not be that delicate magnolia blossom, but He loves me just how He made me. Thank you for the needed reminder this am.
    Blessings,
    Bev

    • http://therunamuck.com amber@therunamuck

      That’s right, friend.

  • Anna finley

    Great and helpful stuff for me today…….thx…….

  • A

    Thank you for this beautiful reminder, Amber. Knowing that the Father’s tender love is for us means resting in His presence listening to His heart, stilling our hearts, something that I struggle to discover as I journey from knowing to experiencing. Praying that each of us discover His touch today that comes in the rest of His presence :)

  • http://www.bethcoulton.com Beth

    I’ve recently felt a strong call to return to the stillness. It will mean, with working full time and putting in long days, that other things may not get done or tended to during my evenings, but tilling the soil of my heart by absorbing God and His greatness and goodness towards me is the best way I can spend my time.

    • http://therunamuck.com amber@therunamuck

      Me, too, Beth. Even writing about it doesn’t help me do it. It’s such a discipline of trust.

  • Mary Haynie

    How true!! ☺

  • Joanne Peterson

    Amber, I’d like to say you are a precious thing, all along. You have a heart for those who are struggling, and you fiercely love, and just as fiercely feel other emotions. Just the same as God fiercely loves you. The flower petal gives it’s fragrance when it is crushed, and the smell is precious, cherished. The diamond is formed by crushing carbon, coal. Then the chunk of rock is rather ugly when it is mined, but no less a diamond, and no less desired and precious even being unformed yet. And because it is a diamond, the refining of being ground into its facets, its particular shapes are what makes it brilliant and desired, and unique. Each diamond, ruby, sapphire, jewel is unique, and beautiful. And each serves a purpose. Some of the hard jewels are used for industry, and some are used for adornment, or remembrances of occasions, for the stones cause us to remember our vows, our important events, our milestones, and guides who we are shaped to become. The pearl of great price…..and when we forget our vows, our important events, our milestones, God tenderly still remembers us, and guides us home. Amber, this is you. You are precious. Blessings, Joanne

    • http://therunamuck.com amber@therunamuck

      Well, shoot, Joanne. This made me teary. This is beautiful. Thank you.

  • karen

    I am not a precious thing either. Took me many years to reconcile that God made me this way and had specific things that HE needed me to accomplish. He has SO softened my rough edges, but NO ONE would ever call me “precious”! :-) I’m am thankful I can now embrace that and trust the Spirit with my journey to be “complete”. (I raised 3 boys, so I hear ya!)

    • http://therunamuck.com amber@therunamuck

      The word “precious” has always kind made me want barf actually. Now, though, I’m warming up to it. Thanks for hearing me, Karen.

  • Alia_Joy

    I have the most ridiculous urge to call you my precious in a super creepy gollum voice because I am super mature like that. But your post was beautiful as always. Also, I miss your face.

  • Rebecca Jones

    I love your post! I guess I’m a precious thing. I used to be neat, organized, quiet. I was trying to write and work on my art. I talked to my dogs, butterflies, sometimes even inanimate things, ” Oh, you’re just the cutest…whatever. ” Now, I have family members living with me. I have the loads of clothes, the house is a mess, sometimes I may feel like a workhorse but I know God’s got it under control. I think you look like a ballerina. We are all different, and yet, so very much alike, needing His love. Thank you for reminding me that I’m a precious thing.

  • http://www.ReneeSwope.com Renee Swope

    You are my soul twin.

    I too, am “more like a crane heaving a wrecking ball, using every inch of my arms…I don’t walk from one room to another without full-motion cleaning on my way out and distributing everything to its place. I don’t have a princess touch, a princess look, or a princess voice.”

    I have new bruises in new places every week, from all my running into corners and dressers, and anything that gets in the way of my big moves and fast turns. :)

    And I struggle with the resting, too, friend. The being. The living loved and believing I’m enough even if I don’t do a thing. Thank you for calling it out. I’m going to try to rest today. Just listen. And ask Him what He thinks about me.

  • http://therightvolume.com/ Samantha Livingston

    Love this for so many reasons, Amber. Rest has been a theme in my mind lately–a holy something which culture will likely never nudge us to do. I am so not precious either and I love the way you articulated that about yourself. :)

  • Tammy O’Callaghan

    Love, love, love!

  • Nancy Roe

    Amber, I am crazy in love with all your words and imagery! AND sentiment, so resonates!! I need to remember the robe and the ring! I am rolling around in and basking and tasting all the scrumptiousness in your book second time around. Do not want to miss a crumb!!