Returning to the Wilderness (AKA Summer Home)

Walking up the sidewalk yesterday, I pulled my keys out then tried to wrestle the door open while realizing it was locked at the top, too. Standing on my tippy-toes I reached high inserting the key, but couldn't manage to unbolt it. Meanwhile, two very happy faces appeared between the blinds on the door-glass and me. Upon opening it (thanks to their dad), they rushed at me--hugging me and telling me they missed me. Pure delight. I had been in the city all week, so I hugged them back, "I missed you, too!..." I looked both of them in the eye as I spoke and meant it.

The little one ambled towards me as I hugged the others in the foyer and stood there smiling, holding her beloved puppy. She waved at me, tilted her head and smiled again. They came to the car to help me bring in my things and just before bedtime, each grabbed a bag and helped me carry everything upstairs. (Well, except the one who remembered she was upset about something. Oh kids--being so present in their emotional lives. :) )

And as their mom read the older two stories, the little one decides to run back and forth upstairs peering down at me through the railing. "What are you doing?" she asks her favorite question. "Reading... What are you doing?" She smiles without answering and runs down the hallway again. This same exchange occurs another fifteen million times. At one point she sits down and puts both legs through two slats in the railing and waves at me. Then she returns to her work--running from one end of the hall to the next, always checking in on her sisters.

Finished looking at stuff online, I head to the kitchen sink to do a few dishes. Little one returns to the rail above and calls out, "Jesh...!" I turn my attention to her and she smiles, "I wuve you!"
Be.still.my.heart.
I almost cried it was so sweet.
"I love you, too," I replied.
We both smiled at the other and she was off on her way again.

Later, I told her mom about it. We talked about how I think part of the reason I experienced loneliness so strongly this past week is because I've been with their family this past month. I've been in an environment where people wonder where I am when I'm not home and ask me how my day is. They care about the things I'm walking through and have been supportive of me in the midst of a whole lot of hardship. The girls are happy to see me for no apparent reason beyond the fact that they like having me around. This place and these people have become a haven for me.

The contrast was stark this week. And, for better or worse (I actually think better), I get to see what I really need and want because of my time with them. Being part of something here makes me realize how I don't really feel part of something out "there". It has provided a place for my heart to recognize what matters. I get to press in and ask Jesus how He wants to provide for me specifically in this way and invite Him to touch these places that feel so tired, so needy. I think that's really good.

I Belonged There

Standing in my shoes today, the view from here looks dreary. It rained this morning, but then the sun came out. I don't feel very capable of appreciating its brightness. Not so much from an outward view (I see how lovely it is!), but from my soul perspective. I feel lonely in my life right now. The reality is hitting me hard this week. Perhaps this is an aspect of the season of life I'm in. Combined with the challenges I've faced relationally and in my work these past several months, I feel depleted. I don't feel successful at much. I don't feel seen or known well. I don't feel like I belong anywhere specific.

There are many people around my life. They have their opinions about what it looks like from their view and the reasons I've wrestled deeply. I have my own, as well. It's not that I don't think they care for me or want to care--I just don't see anyone having the energy or desire to care in a way that I need someone to care. I continue to extend invitations for people to be "inside"--some are accepted and that has been very sweet. God has met me through people who have taken the time to notice me and those who have also invited me to be part of what they're doing. But, my trust has also been broken as other people have taken what they've seen on the inside and shared it on the outside. That's not so sweet.  And, all of that aside, I think I'm just weary in the process of extending invitations. It feels like planning my own birthday party over and over again, hoping people will want to come but realizing they've found something more exciting to do instead.

One of my oldest friends put it well about a month ago, "You have good friends in your life, but you don't have a group... Everyone who you're close with is part of their own circle and you belong with those individuals, but the circles don't connect." Once upon a time, I did have a group. Earlier today I had the chance to share about that group. Those friends wanted me there. It wasn't even a question in my mind or theirs whether I'd be included in plans being made. At one point, I'd moved thousands of miles away and they called saying they had to have me at a last blowout party and wanted to pay to fly me home to be with them... "It wouldn't be the same without you," they exclaimed.

I knew I belonged there. And wow, thinking of it now, I felt safe, secure and oh so very loved. I knew I was wanted. I knew my presence was precious to them. I felt precious. I'm seeing now how profoundly their love changed me. What a gift. What an absolute gift.

I told the Lord today that I'm not sure how to walk this path He has me on. I know I belong to Him. I know the picture is not as black and white as the story I've unpacked above illustrates--my perception is incomplete. I just feel the deficit deeply today. I'm tired of being strong. I'm tired of being told how things should work. I'm tired of being told I offer so much one week and being critiqued over the smallest thing the next. I'm sad as people who have expressed their willingness to battle for me have pushed me away. I'm just tired right now. There's just a lot more bad than good. And, it feels really hard.

Release

Darkness falls
glowing ball hides
I am awake.

Sixty one days
my voice grew strong
my voice faltered.

You all like giants
tread upon tenderness
the cast of your feet linger.

You know better
...or do you?

Commentaries pressed in
cemented, hardened
enveloping me.

Still, dignity rises
unquenchable expectation, hope.

Like a tree whose roots grow down deep
uncovering a source
true and good
all pales in comparison.

Downcast eyes see.
Broken heart receive.
Silent lips speak.

Forgive.
Love.
Forgive.
Love.
Release.

Be who you are not who they think you to be.

And Now, About That Nap...

My eyes didn't want to open this morning. You know the kind... You're exhausted, your whole body aches for reasons you cannot remember, your brain is trying to run, but it feels like you're running Windows instead of your Mac. I encouraged my eyelids to open and felt shocked by the sun peeking through the blinds. "Why do you have to be so bright?!" I muttered inside my head (there's no way my lips would utter any such word or phrase). As I came to, I began to consider the crazy day I'd scheduled for myself. Literally six different commitments filled my Saturday calendar between the hours of 11:00 & midnight, plus an errand or three I really need to run. Too much. But being me, even in this overly-tired place, I thought, "You can do it!"

I somehow made my way to the kitchen to cook oatmeal, folded my laundry and showered while contemplating the reality of how I was never going to get myself out the door on time. Moving at a snail's pace, I sat on my knees pulling papers from under the bed to consider what needed to go with me and I sunk deeper into this posture and wanted to nap. Not good when you need to leave the house soon. As I stood and evaluated myself in the mirror I wondered aloud, "What are you doing?" I wanted to cry with weariness (it was like when you're little and you don't know what's wrong, but nothing seems too good and you just want to cry... Or is that just me?). 

So I looked at myself again and thought, "You don't have to do this..." I texted my first appointment, apologized and said I couldn't make it. My phone wouldn't send the text. I tried four times. When it finally worked, I exhaled and thought, "Good... That bought you a few more hours." Total relief. It's in moments like these that I remember how the Lord loves me and wants to care for me. I really get in the way of that in seasons like this one. It's like what I wrote the other day... I forget to check in with my heart and ask Him what's best. I almost forgot today, but I'm so glad I remembered. So glad I listened.

New Mercies

I wasn't prepared last night. Mid-way through a time with small group shepherds, I noticed everything was off, but instead of correcting the course, I kept pressing on. It's not that anything bad happened per say. But, the good I can now see had I turned onto the other road was missed.

On the drive home, I felt very sad. I went into auto-pilot and led from a place I've been before, but not necessarily the place where we're going. I can see where we're going... I felt sad about the way I didn't recognize what was happening in the moment though. The way I wasn't listening well enough to guide us there.

When I got home I just stretched out on my bed and stared at the wall as the evening looped on repeat in front of my eyes. I asked the Lord to fill the sadness with His peace. I asked Him to help me live from my identity in Christ and not go down the path of shame for missing it and not performing perfectly. I asked Him to turn the evening into good despite the fact that I didn't listen to the all-too-familiar nudge of His Spirit.

It's a weighty thing to come alongside and equip people. The preparation I lacked wasn't in the form of task, but rather the heart. I didn't quiet myself before the Lord and invite Him to lead the time. I didn't reflect on the bigger picture of where we're going. I got caught up in the details.

So I've stepped into this new day with a little heaviness (I'm still trying to sort out how I didn't do it perfectly and that hurts, you see). And in the midst of it, I get to talk with the Lord about it. I get to allow my perception of myself to realign with what He says is true about me. I get to embrace grace and truth together. I get to mature and walk humbly. It hurts to see how badly I need Him--I want to be able to do this on my own. And, I'm thankful for His love and faithfulness to me in it. I'm so glad for the reminder that I can't do it without Him.

Summer Scenery

"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" 

--Mary Oliver--

A woman I've only met over the phone offered this quote and a few significant words of encouragement to me in an email after we spoke last week. I've been thinking of it as I completed (well, nearly completed...) the process of moving. I have high hopes for this life of mine. The past few months have been so challenging, but I don't want to give up on the dreams God has given me or the pictures He has offered me about what He is doing all around me. 

I woke up this morning and opened the blinds. The picture above is my view for the summer. What a gift. I slept better than I have in months and while I was still sleepy upon waking, I pressed into the day with hope that this adventure is a good one to be on. I feel safe and wanted in this place. I feel removed from my routine already. It's a good feeling. I have space and time to take some deep breaths and consider the future. I GET to (there it is again!) sit with Jesus and savor Him. I GET to look out this window and consider the things He has put in my heart. I GET to listen and consider all He tells me about where He's taking me and the good He has for me and others in the process.

Sometimes all that's required is a change of scenery. I'm thankful to have it. I didn't know how badly I needed this break from my regularly scheduled life. Though there's no doubt it will prove challenging to commute for work and see friends, I get to choose into a new rhythm, a fresh pace. And, I'm not alone. There's something very significant about that aspect of this change for me. These friends and their sweet little ones are a gift for me. So, here's to considering, again, what I get to do with my one wild and precious life...

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.