Wednesday, August 8, 2012

{What it means to be blessed} A synchroblog

We find ourselves in a ten acre waterpark and for as far as my eye can see, there are half naked people running and screaming and jumping and skipping and raising their hands as if in worship and my eyes brim with the excess. 

I just wanted to go have fun with my boys.  Just go where it was wet and sunny and smiley.  Find a way to forget that the thermometers are boiling.  Find some way to escape. 

But I just can’t.

I can’t stop thinking that as I watch 500 gallons of water fall, just for the hell of it, upon the heads of laughing children here that there are other children there who are walking miles to get just a smidgen of the same. Children who can’t even begin to fathom that somewhere in the world there are parks of water

And then there is here, too.  This summer of no rain and everywhere, farmers are plowing under crops and choking on the dust and trying to add up the numbers that just don’t add up. 

And yet, here we are. 

There is crystal clear water spraying and squirting and showering

And for some reason that I will never understand this side of heaven, we are here and others are there.

I sit on the side of the water and catch a glimpse of a tiny little girl, crouched in the middle of the throng, hands to her face, crying.  She is looking frantically around her, desperate for a glimpse of someone, something familiar, but it is clear that she doesn’t really see.  Slowly, she starts to spiral inward.  I go to her because I know that fear, that longing. I feel it, too, sweet girl. 

She is reconnected with her own in seconds but she will never really forget this day.  This moment.  This feeling.  Until she crosses over into the hands of love, she will always remember the craziness of feeling so alone among thousands of people.

And then it hits me. 

This is what it means to be blessed.

Blessings fall. 
Every day.
They rain down just as ludicrously as the millions of gallons of water that fall from these fake pirate ships and colored sprayers. 
They never make sense.
They are never earned or deserved.
They just rain down.

It is when I respond in love to these storms of grace filled blessings…it is then that I come to know what it means to be blessed.

Ironically, we are at this oversized extravagant park because of the generosity of others.  Evidently, there are folks who think that kids who read should be rewarded with free things.  We never could have afforded to even walk through the gates of a place like this, otherwise. 

Again, these blessings…they are ludicrous.

This whole place is ludicrous.

But I am here with these two amazing boys and we go down slides too fast and our hearts leap and our voices scream and I know that I don't deserve any of it.

But the water, it keeps raining down.

And I throw my hands up in worship and my eyes brim with the excess.

 Linking up with Emily at Imperfect Prose today


  1. Replies
    1. Idelette,
      So very glad that you stopped by. I covet your listening ear...

  2. You brought a tear, my dear. Keep up the great message and writing and yes, you deserve it. You and your thoughtful lives and loving hearts deserve such a thing! Thank you for your generous writing.

    1. Lori,
      So glad to have you in this space. Thank you so much for reading.

  3. oh holly. i shared this on fb, of course, because, well, i think everyone should read you. because you bless me so ridiculously much. love you and the way you see, friend.

    1. Oh emily, you make my life rich, my very rich

  4. Aw, this is perfectly woven with compassion, gratitude and authenticity. So beautifully written!

  5. Emily's posting on Facebook led me to your blog. I am so glad! Thanks for this mindful writing!


    1. Anne,
      So very glad that you visited this space. You are welcome anytime.

  6. I am so thankful that Emily shared this today. How have I not been here before? You have such a beautiful voice and how many times have I looked at all the excess and teared up myself? And here you show us that in these moments we are really just understanding the magnitude of blessings. . how undeserved, plentiful, filled with grace each blessing is. Like those pirate ships spilling gallons of water.
    Just beautiful. I can't say that enough. I must subscribe.
    Thank you new friend.

    1. Oh Danelle, I, too, am so glad you came here. Please come, again and again, and let's build community together.

  7. Yes. I think what you said here is huge.
    Because it takes true courage not to let our appropriate, bleeding compassion for the "have-nots" overwhelm the divine generosity that we do have. An arm reaching out to the others is certainly a fitting response, but to let ourselves be blinded by the guilt of being a "have" does not solve anyone's problems. Somehow there must be a balance of holding thankfulness without letting go of action.

    You have expressed this well here, Holly.

    1. Yes, it is huge. All of this is SO huge. But in all of it, there is joy and grace and peace. Thank you for stopping by, Kelli.

  8. So glad to see people discovering what I already know... you are amazing. Thank you for these words.

    1. Eyvonne,
      Your words bathe me in love. Thank you!

  9. Holly,

    You blessed me by your words over at my place but even more so with your share..touching. I am so glad to meet you and am following you now. Thank you. Just beautiful. Yes, the seeing so much and knowing that so many don't have but balancing perspective and receiving it with thanksgiving...and tears. Thank you for your eyes that see.

  10. I would love to be blessed that way. But I think the days of waterparks is a thing of the past for me. I hope you and the boys had a great time. And glad you were able to help someone who was lost. Enjoy the rest of the summer. Love, Lori