If Mama Ain't Happy: Unveiled

"Then Jesus shouted out again, and he released his spirit.
At that moment the curtain in the sanctuary of the Temple was torn
in two, from the top to bottom."
Matthew 27: 50-51

I cannot ponder the cross without rejoicing in the curtain in the temple being torn. My redemption is beautiful, but the curtain, or veil, tearing is significant because it means relationship. Before Jesus' death the only way to enter into God's presence was on the Day of Atonement. A Levite priest had to go through some serious rigamarole to get there, too. He had to have smoky incense in front of his eyes to shield him from God, among other steps. Also, and this part always gets me, he had to have a rope tied around his waist just in case he died from being in the presence of God's holiness.

That is no joke. It also seems like it would hinder intimacy with God.

Thanks to Jesus we can enter freely into the presence of the Living God. For those who believe in Jesus the veil is lifted. Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians: "But whenever someone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. for the Lord is the Spirit, and wherever the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. So all of us who have had that veil removed can see and reflect the glory of the Lord. And the Lord - who is the Spirit - makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image." (verses16-18, emphasis mine)

In Christ we are unveiled! No rope around the waist is necessary, no incense needed to shield our eyes; the blood of Jesus has made us clean.

Yet, often I remain veiled.

In fact, I am the veil.

I do not fully embrace the joy of my salvation. I treat my freedom as imprisonment, my relationship with Christ as obligation. I forget that there is no rigamarole necessary.

I want to have quiet time where I light a candle and I journal and listen to beautiful music as I read my bible and talk to the Lord. I am in a season, though, where this is hard and I cannot reconcile the picture I have in my head of 'Quiet Time' with the Lord with Kara In Real Life.

My picture looks like this: I am at the table with coffee, a candle is lit, and I am reading and absorbing God's word. I am journaling, I am being filled so that my day with my family will want to etch Proverbs 31 into my tombstone.

My reality: I stumble out of bed but cannot find my glasses. I find the candle but no lighter. I start the coffee (gotta make the coffee) but the filter is jammed and there's grounds everywhere. I have my bible but am afraid to turn on a light because if my children see the light they will wake up and be hungry and need to eat and need me to do lots of other things for them too. If I do settle in to reading scripture my body realizes that it's 4:30 a.m., the only time a mother can be truly alone, and demands that I give it more rest.

I am not knocking the candle/journal/bible scenario, please know that. I have had that season and I will again one day. Right now, though, that's not as easy for me.

I can, though, sit at the table after breakfast and read my bible. I can read verses out loud to the kids (even while they look bored and fidget) and ask what they think. I can tape verses to the mirror. I can listen to podcasts of sermons. Best of all, I can talk to God all. day. long. He won't tire of my voice or be distracted by his phone. He won't demand that I get him a snack or beg me to take him to the park. God won't focus on my fears, or my failures, or my pettiness he'll just see me as me, as I am in Him. All I need to do is talk to him. As Brother Lawrence wrote, "There is not in the world a kind of life more sweet and delightful, that that of a continual conversation with God; those only can comprehend it who practice it and experience it."

Basically, my hardest job is to not be the veil. I am always the only thing standing between me and Jesus. I can't let the picture in my head keep me from enjoying the picture that God would like to be in.

I will remember I am unveiled and embrace the Quiet in the chaos.