Maxwell Crescent. That’s the name of the street where I spent a portion of my childhood – in London, Ontario. Growing up in Canada introduced me to a new culture full of different foods, friends and terminology. There is one particular memory that sticks with me, even today.
I had made a new friend who lived down the street, named Carla. Now Carla, as far as I know, was a full blooded Canadian – born and raised in London. We were quick friends, walking to school together, playing around the neighborhood, riding bikes, ice skating in her backyard. (Yes, for you southerners, I said ice skating) We were around each other a lot during those elementary years. One of the first days we walked home from school, that first fall, I’ll never forget something she said. Her house was just a few doors down on the opposite side of the street. But as I stopped at my driveway and she kept walking, she shouted over her shoulder, “Call on me later so we can play!” And with that, she disappeared around the bend in the road, into her house.
“Call on me…” I mulled it over in my mind. At nine years old I wasn’t sure what to do. This was back in the day when I wasn’t allowed to pick up the phone just whenever I wanted… was I supposed to call her on the phone? I was baffled. I went inside and asked my mom. My mom, who was also born and bred as a Canadian, explained that Carla wanted me to go over to her house and knock on the door. She wanted me to come and get her so we could play together. “Call” had nothing to do with dialing numbers on a phone.
It is a word that rings true today, in fact. (no pun intended) You may know that my husband and I choose to home school our children. If you were to peek at my calendar, you would see that our start date for school this year is on this coming Monday. only two days away. two short days. I am prepared. The books have been purchased, school supplies organized, lesson plans written. In a lot of ways I am ready.
But today I began to doubt. You see, there are a lot of things I can’t plan. This is very upsetting to someone like me who is a planner by nature. And as all of those “unplan-able” types of things began to mount up in my mind, my heart began to race. What will Mackenzie do while I’m helping Isaac with his coloring? How will I find time for Emily to practice piano if Mackenzie is napping? Will I be able to get all of Emily’s school work done and still interact with Isaac on his activities? And the questions piled up, right here in the room with me in tangible heaps of worry, messing up my previously neatly organized school nook.
It was when I put my hands over my face, in order to avoid making eye contact with the piles, that I heard Him say, “Call to me…” Now, you may not know this, but I have been praying. a lot. I have covered every inch of my school nook, including the book case and the table and chairs and the text books in prayer. But He said it again, persisting… “No, Call to me…”
And it dawned on me, He meant “call” just like Carla had said it. Come over. Let’s spend time in each other’s presence. When these questions come up – He’s got the answer. He didn’t mean, float some giant, nebulous prayer out into the cosmos. He doesn’t want me to leave a message on His answering machine so He can get back to me later. No, He wants person to person contact.
Jeremiah 33:3 says, “Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.”
And with that, my load of anxiety over all of these unanswerable, unforeseen questions evaporated into thin air. I don’t have to know the answers. I just have to spend time with The One who does…
amen. thank you Lord.
md
(written August 13, 2010)
daily portion 