Nothing Do I Withhold

Piece by piece things are walking out of my home in the hands of people I know. Letting go. It's strange to consider these belongings are no longer mine. But, it's good. A friend said yesterday, "I cannot imagine the Lord asking you to let go of most of your things..." I smiled at her. She loves me and doesn't want me to lose anything as I walk into this new season of surrender.

The truth is, I'm not losing one thing.

For months He has been whispering it to me. Maybe longer. When it became obvious to me ten days ago, I jumped! He is inviting me to remember again how He is my Home. He's inviting me to relinquish good things so He can give better. This time around, it almost feels like I don't need faith to do it. Though, I do.

Another dear friend told me to listen to a specific and recent talk by Bill Johnson the other day. In it, he shares, "Faith is exploring the land." (My paraphrase.) I'm requiring myself to experience the truth of what I believe right now. In response to the Lord's invitation to see what He's given me, I'm extending my own:

Show me WHO You are!
Show me how GOOD You are!
Show me how FAITHFUL You are!
Take me deeper. Take me deeper still!!

I cry as I reflect on the joy of this journey! What joy to trust Him so much! What a gift from Him! He's walked me through it all. And now, I arrive at these places where He asks for more and it's easier to open these hands. It's easier to let go... Because... I KNOW Him. I know Him. And, like any significant relationship, there's more to know.

He is God. It'll take me an eternity. I'm thankful I have it. He gave me that, too.

So I sit here on the rug, leaning against the couch that's been with me for 12 years. This couch that I've loved and shuttled around the country is going, too. This sofa where so many have sat, rested, shared stories, cried, laughed... This piece of furniture that has become an institution in my view of home. And, it's beautiful. I want it to go. It's time for it to go.

I have the privilege of walking forward without the burden of so many things so I can step into the good awaiting me. I GET to make space for an unknown future of good gifts on this path He has me on. I GET to. He never asks us to let go of things without purpose. He always has our best at heart. Our obedient responses bring Him glory and honor. Win. Win. Win. Win. Win.

And still, something inside me says, "There's more..." I know it's not the end of the letting go. I wrestle with a couple of thoughts popping into my mind. I pray I choose to give it. All. I pray there's nothing I hold onto... I pray for first things to be first. Everything else, second.

He is first.

Don't Mind the Run-on Sentences? :)

Sometimes one of your best friends (who you don't get to talk with often on the phone) calls and leaves you a voice mail telling you the normal things, acknowledging how they made her think of you... You laugh aloud and shake your head "Yes!" Then she tells you she's just thinking of you and thought maybe you'd be home washing your hair on a Friday night (ha!), but you're not... Maybe you're on a hot date, but maybe just a date?... You laugh aloud and say, "Don't I wish..." Then she just tells you how she wanted to let you hear her voice and how she's thinking of you...

It's enough to make you cry and smile and cry the whole way home on the freeway from the thing you were at as you sit with the truth of how dear she is to you and what a blessing it is that across miles and months that have passed, she's still here. In your life. She still knows you. She still cares.

And, it's too late to call her back, so you blog about it instead and plan to call her this weekend.

Simple joys. Simple gifts. Thankful and blessed. Blessed and thankful.

Puzzling Reflections

I Corinthians 13
 

If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. ² If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn’t love others, I would be nothing. ³ If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it;^[a] but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained nothing.

⁴ Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud ⁵ or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. ⁶ It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. ⁷ Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.

⁸ Prophecy and speaking in unknown languages^[b] and special knowledge will become useless. But love will last forever! ⁹ Now our knowledge is partial and incomplete, and even the gift of prophecy reveals only part of the whole picture! ¹⁰ But when the time of perfection comes, these partial things will become useless.

¹¹ When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. ¹² Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity.^[c] All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.

¹³ Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love.

Today I see incompletely. Today I wrestle with this partial view of God, myself and others. Today, I have a choice... I can choose to love. Only God knows how this all turns out. Only He can inform it. I lay my hands open to receive. In the process, I relinquish the things holding me back from receiving His BEST for me. I look at idols in my life for what they are--a path to control, a path to being "like God." He replaces those things with faith, trust, hope and WORSHIP. He shows me HOW GOOD He really is. He reveals His heart for me and invites me into deeper relationship and discovery of the abundant life He has for me. 

Today I see incompletely, but with hope... One day these partial things won't matter. I will see in full clarity all He is, all I am and the beauty of how those things have worked together for His glory and my good. Today, I forgive. Today, I posture my heart in surrender, humility and obedience to His way, His timing. Today, I walk in freedom. Today I walk in love.

Shifting

My head feels a little foggy this morning as I'm waking up into the day. What a week it has been. Today marks the start of a process to sort through belongings, make decisions about what stays and what goes, so I can be lighter on the journey ahead. I'm excited as I consider the prospect of it. Home is important to me, but Jesus is my home. So much of me wants to belong here, but it is not happening in the way I hoped. I belong to Him.

Last night, I hosted a celebration for a season of small groups just coming to a close. We heard stories of hardship, growth and God's movement. Afterwards, I sat with one of the couples--we needed to watch something on YouTube (very important stuff). I've always enjoyed them, though I don't know them very well yet. I noticed something... I'm myself with them. I'm me! The quirky, ridiculously chatty, dreamer, vision-caster came out. I laughed so hard and shared my heart so freely. I thought I was going to burst! What a gift. We talked about the Kingdom and all of the things God is up to. We talked about the pictures He has given us, the way He's let us "in", giving us eyes to see what He is doing. We talked about the things we still don't know. It was awesome.

As they left, I felt the Lord speaking over me... "See... you do belong here... I'm putting you with the people you need to run with..." And, it was the third time this week He said it to me. He's shifting my idea of team (I'm finally listening). He's shifting my idea of home (again). He's shifting and expanding my idea of church (even more).

I'm thankful.

Shattered Dreams...

Thanks to Larry Crabb, I have vocabulary for it now. This season. These pieces of pain. Two freshly shattered dreams this month. The carpet won't change. I can offer who I am and cultivate the rest of the room, but the carpet stays. It feels like death. It is a death. Another one.

I think it could still be good. He promises good, so "think" likely falls short as a description. I wonder about the things He's pressed into my heart though. I wonder why. Perhaps they are for another place at another time. Perhaps this season is simply meant to be a time of preparation for the call into the enormous dream He's placed inside of me. Either way, I want to learn well. I want to lean in. I don't want to die clutching these smaller, shattered dreams.

So I release them. I feel the anger. I feel deeply misunderstood. I feel loss. I feel grief. I release it all.

After all, I serve at the pleasure of the King of Kings. I serve at the pleasure of the One called Faithful and True. I serve at the pleasure of the Lord of Lords. I praise You, Jesus. Lead on.

All Will be Mended

There's hope
because in the end
all will be sorted

We'll slough off this shell
only to expose
a glory which will not fade

A new body
but it's only a start
our lenses fully adjusted to truth
our brokenness completely restored
our relationships whole

We won't hurt each other any more

We won't use each other any more

We'll delight in giving ourselves
unashamed
unfettered

Honest with ourselves

Honest with one another

We'll know ourselves
there won't be enormous, red-flagging gaps
we won't need distance
all will be mended

The time of reflection will be past
for the mirror dimly expired
bringing us into life, light
We'll radiate glory perfectly

It is now
and also not yet

I can't wait to look
at you
and you
and you
and you
(the list goes on)
without this current prescription
which aides in my understanding
but leaves it incomplete

I think we'll smile
I think we'll laugh
I think we'll delight in it all
We'll talk about what was
without the heartache of the memories
with hope because pain held a purpose
and we've reached the other side fully now

No more caves
no more hiding
no more sitting in it
no more chaos

Perfect dependence
Unending intimacy

Life, at last, is exactly what it's meant to be.

Redemption is in the Air

Sometimes all we need in order to make better, healthier decisions for our lives is to listen to the people who love us. Those who tell us the truth even when it means they risk hurting us further. Those who remind us how they're in our corner. Those who want to be in our story with us.

Closing a heavy door this week, I've turned around to see a room FULL of people who love me. They're cheering me on. They want more for me than I've been able to hope for myself. Did I mention... They LOVE me. I've felt a little overcome by this reality. It's sinking in more deeply by the minute.

I feel so incredibly blessed, so unbelievably grateful. I feel them smiling at me, inviting me to take risks, telling me they'll be with me along the road--especially when it's hard. And, instead of simply pointing me in the right direction and telling me, "Good Luck!" they've stepped in with offers to help protect me as I step onto this path.

What love! What friendship! They SEE me.

In the process, I'm beginning to see what they see more clearly. Their belief that there is more for me, how there are better things for me is inspiring me to believe it for myself. And, it feels like freedom. Like I've allowed some chains to be unlocked, removed. It feels like healing.

Redemption is in the air.

Crossroads

Standing at a fork
competence or tenderness
strategies or relationships
directives or empathy

One moment I'm towering
seeing the gaps
suddenly overcome
I shrink into the white pleather chair
eating my yogurt

It's too much for today
I feel embarrassed and silly
yet I sit with it, feel it, ask for understanding

And no reprieve comes for this undercurrent of sadness
night after night padding from bedroom to couch
seeking rest in whatever package it's delivered in
sleepless, grieving, interceding
weak under its weight

Musings after midnight
my thoughts swirl back to my own story
do they care that I'm here?
would it matter if I left?
I know what I can do
I know what I can bring them
but my voice feels so small
crowded out by pigeon holes

Notice me
See me
Pursue me
my heart beats wildly, then fails

Missed again
my arms drop to my side
head hangs, shoulders droop
Missed again
  
Decide
which path will it be
Choose
one or the other?

Strong or compassionate
capable or teary
CEO or artist
leader or woman

CHOOSE

Straight ahead another road appears
between the fork it rises
light beckons me forward
a proposal...

Offer ALL of her...
even if they don't see you
Invite them...
even if they keep their distance
Persevere...
especially when you want to run away
Be HER.

**photo by my dear friend, the lovely Shannon of Vine & Light Photography

Pockets of Turbulent Air

There have been so many days in the past month or two when I've wanted to quit. Today was the latest example of "one of those days." It started brightly--joy and hope were close companions this morning. Within a few hours, I was thinking again about how it would feel to throw in the towel, leave the country, start a new life. Part of it sounds lovely. Problem is, I reminded myself once again that the things rising up in this current process would certainly follow me wherever I landed.

Now, that's a helpful reality check when I imagine leaving it all behind because well, I wouldn't. Leave it all behind, that is.

My emotional margin is at an all time low. I find myself trying to fight against where I'm at because it feels terrible. I wish the tears weren't just below the surface. I wish the chaos felt manageable. I wish I knew how to "fix" the way I'm feeling and the things I'm seeing so I can just keep moving.

The funny thing is, I'm realizing how thankful I am that I can't keep moving. I'm thankful when I see the truth that this is hard. I'm thankful for how silly I feel when the tears hit the surface and I cannot hide how I'm affected. All of these things are gifts. Gifts!

I remember how this competent woman does not lose her competency in the face of feelings. I remember how this stuff I'm a part of is so much bigger than me. I remember how good it is to depend on Jesus. I take these moments to sit with Him and tell Him all about it.  I remember how He's the One who gives me what I need to do what He's asked me to do. (Even when I feel like that's absolutely nothing... He always gives me something to give when it's needed.)

His mercies are new every day. Every single day. Grace abounds. Every single day. Love invites and awaits me. Every single day.

I'm alone a lot these days. I feel it acutely. I'm pouring out a lot. I only have a couple ongoing safe spaces where I can unabashedly lay it all out and there isn't much time in those spaces. There are some dear people who want to journey with me. I'm trying to remember to invite them in as regularly as possible. Distance makes it hard, but boy am I grateful they'd want to journey with me in the first place.

When I consider those realities, I take a deeper breath. This is not easy. But, I believe with all of my heart, it is fruitful. The fruit comes in the being--He's changing me as I sit with Him in these places. He's bringing clarity and hope on days when I long for it, but have no clue where it will come from. He's bringing intimacy and kindness; care and compassion. He's helping me to persevere.

And today, I saw a safe friend and asked him if he would hug me and he did. He just held me for a short time and cared for me where I was at without knowing a thing about any of it. Later, three people checked in on me. They wanted to know how I was doing. They noticed me then took the additional step to let me know that they saw me. I cried. More. All of those things meant the world to me today.

When one friend called to see what happened I simply stated, "I just hit some unexpected turbulence today." Isn't that the truth? It caught me off guard--again. I think these are the moments where grace abounds though. I'm not sure what will trigger the tenderness, but I hope to move through it with dignity and resist the urge to run from relationship (with the Lord and others) when I fly over a fresh patch.