The Seven Questions Your Soul Is Really Asking Even if You Don’t know It — & how To Surprisingly Find The Real Answers

It came kinda out of the blue.

Came kinda because I felt blue?

Because I felt old? Felt old and wrinkled and worn and wearing out?

Maybe those words, that question, actually came right then because I was feeling how the children he and I had made together, with the kind hand of the Divine, they were moulting out of their childhoods all around us.

All four of our boys now stand taller than their fine dad. Not one of the men-child I’ve carried and birthed and carried again are less than a strapping 6 feet tall now. Turns out? Parenting children you literally have to look up —  keeps you parenting from the best posture of all.

The first two boys I taught how to count and engineer block towers? Are now counting down terms to university graduation and building a dream as a computer engineer.

That third boy with shoulders broader than his dad’s, he’s out seeing the world through a lens and giving me fresh eyes that enlarge this old beat-up heart, and the last boy, the grinning one gunning to be the tallest, he made us dinner last night and the night before that and there’s hardly a day goes by that he doesn’t hug me half a dozen times, kissing me squarely on the top of my head.

Who ever expected living to mean so much joy and so much heart ache? Love and pain are the two chambers of the same heart that pump courage through the aching veins.

They have made me brave, and they have kept me humble, and they have made me white-knuckle cling to the cross because my very sanity and life flat out depended upon it, and the children we have made are always part of our own remaking. Parenting makes you real God-dependent and real honest and velveteen real.

And I guess I can just say it — how I have been made velveteen by the years that have been. Our oldest girl’s applying to university medical programs and her love heals a thousand broken places. And our middle girl can do 50 pushups with her sister on her back, and can I just ask all the questions: Where did all the mirage of time go?

Our youngest daughter wrote a row of F’s and E’s on her own yesterday and smirked like she was the cat who’d swallowed a canary — and taken wing.

And it’s my heart that keeps falling as these fledgelings begin to fly. Anyone know? Where did all this glorious time go?

Parenting is about swallowing hard and staying soft — and mastering the art of letting go and holding on and letting come what comes.

I have stumbled hard but I vow I have tried to live it:

Life isn’t about slowing down how fast time goes — it’s about taking the time to slow down your life to enjoy whatever comes.

And I think that’s what I was thinking — about kids and the fleeting brevity of time and all my growing crow’s feet and these wrinkling hands and watching the way the light fell across the fields and how I could feel my aching soul burning right there like an ember in my throat.

That’s when, somewhere between the waiting woods and home, that I turned to him behind the wheel of his Dodge Ram and tried to find the words to even ask:

When all the years make you velveteen, how will your soul be seen?

I just need to know?

I don’t even know how to ask him —

When the years wear me down till I’m only my tender soul, will you still look at me as your one and only?

And maybe I don’t even have to open my mouth and ask the question? Maybe I am always asking the question with my life? Maybe….. without even knowing, we’re asking questions, whose answers we’re feeling without even knowing.

Maybe — everywhere we go, we’re asking these questions silently, and they are silently being answered everywhere we go.

And just before we find ourselves already home, I almost dared to say, what I’m only starting to see:

There are these seven questions a soul is always asking:  

Am I looked for?

Am I looked out for?

Am I looked over?

Am I looked down on?

Am I looked at as enough as I am?

Am I looked into because what is in me is priceless to you?

Am I looking up to the way of Abundance — looking up for more grace, more love, more joy, more Jesus?

 

I turn to him, and realize I didn’t want to ask one question: my whole life has been asking these seven questions.

What we all really are seeking — is someone really seeking  us.

I catch my reflection in the truck mirror — and isn’t that it? However we see ourselves being seen, becomes the mirror by which we see the world.

If we see ourselves as seen as not enough — we see everything through a fog of scarcity.

If we see ourselves as seen as more than enough — we see everything with the clarity of abundant security.

How we see ourselves being seen — changes how we see everything. And every single person you meet is looking to see — how you see them.

Am I looked for?

Am I looked out for?

Am I looked over?

Am I looked down on?

Time is short — look into eyes long. I look down at hands looking like my grandmother’s. Look over at him, turning up into our farm laneway.

There is only so much time here. Be all here.

Without any words, everyone everywhere is asking if you love them, without any conditions.

I read his eyes, how all our eyes all asking the same seven questions all the time:

Am I looked at as enough as I am?

Am I looked into because what is in me is priceless to you?

Am I looking up to the way of Abundance — looking up for more grace, more love, more joy, more Jesus?

How we look at each other  — is how we love each other. How we look into eyes is how we love each other’s hearts.

Every heart loves deeper  — when their eyes linger longer.

And I grab his hand. His smile finds mine — makes mine. We find each other’s eyes.

The hands of the clock can move on — but our eyes don’t ever have to move on.

Our eyes will find each other and remind each other, and by the outrageous grace of God, there is abundantly enough time to make our lives whisper the answer to every single person’s question:

You are looked for,
and you are looked out for,
And you are never looked over,
and you are never looked down on,
and you are always looked at as enough just as you are,

and you are looked into because who you are is priceless to me,
and together we will keep looking up to the way of Abundance —
looking up for more grace, more love, more joy, more Jesus.

And a soul can know —

When the years wear you down till you’re only your tender soul, you will still only be beautiful to behold.

After he and I walk up the back walk to the farmhouse kinda rocking and swaying with our nearly grown tribe, his worn hand warms mine, and we linger a bit to watch the blue edges of the sky bleeding into a twilight gold, and for a holy moment the world softens and there is time to look and see.

The abundant way of us all becoming velveteen.

What do you do when you wake up and feel like you’re not enough for your life? Or when you look out the kitchen window as dusk falls and wonder how do you live when life keeps breaking your heart?

In sixty vulnerably soulful stories, the highly anticipated The Way of Abundance moves from self-weary brokenness to Christ-focused givenness.

 These tender devotionals dare you to take the only way forward your soul really longs for — The Way of Abundance/

Pick up your own Way to Abundance now & start your journey to the abundant life 

 

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