I got on an airplane. It was rather unexpected as the call came only days earlier, "We're going... Can you come?" My mom and I have talked for just about a year about that day in the future when she would travel to close my grandparents house out; I missed his funeral last year. Tickets were outrageously expensive and I just couldn't make it. But, the call came last week. I wondered, "Is it worth it?"
I knew it was, but money and time barriers briefly blocked my vision. Logging onto my favorite airline's website, I saw a ticket for a little over $400. To be honest, this was surprising. Not to say the money is easily found or spent, but the ticket was a very "normal" price and not out of reach. I sat on the decision for a day.
Booking it made me a little nervous--I felt tension about stewardship and fear regarding finances--but I did it. The comfort I carried was the opportunity to cancel the ticket within 24 hours without penalty. I set an alarm on my phone to remind me that I could.
Sitting in a coffee shop later that day, I ran into a friend I'd shared all of this with the day before. She offered wisdom, "You will never be able to get this opportunity back; once it's gone, it's gone," she said. That was all true. What is money, after all? Would God fail to provide for me?
The next day, my cancellation alarm sounded. Momentarily I considered it, but just as quickly turned it off and took a deep breath. I relaxed into trust.
So I got on an airplane. I'd fly into the evening, spend the whole next day on the ground and at 4:00 AM the day after that day, I'd head to the airport to fly back. I felt crazy, but thankful. I was going. I was given the privilege of saying goodbye in person and I was stepping into it.
Pulling up to the house, I was curious how I'd feel walking in. The last time I was here, the house felt empty without her. We filled it--my mom and dad, brother and sister, our extended family--to the brim. Now they were both gone; the house filled with memories and quiet and some of their things. There's something so strange about walking into a place where so much life has been lived and realizing those lives have left us behind.
The Russian neighbors and the Estonian house-caretaker questioned my age, my weight and wondered very directly and to my face in Russian and in English as to the reason for my singleness. I ate borsch and heard this phrase repeatedly, "Eat!... Eat!" The caretaker of the house told me to return and stay with her so she could take me to church. (There's an enormous Protestant Russian church around the corner.) In light of our previous dialogue about marriage, I asked, "So you can introduce me?" "No," she replied, "I don't need to introduce you... They will FIND you..." She said it all with a smile and a gleam in her eye.
Oh, I love my heritage. Those moments were so precious to me because it reminded me that some things don't change. I receive it in the best sense here. The absolute best.
And we cleared out so many things in that house. Junk and trinkets and belongings that reminded us of them. We went through books in his study and I grabbed a few and made them my own. We went to their graves. Taking purple flowers that were growing over the fence at the house, we placed them there. I plucked up stray blades of grass that were interfering with my ability to see their names with clarity. I remembered that while their bodies are buried there, they are experiencing so much life. I cannot begin to imagine what abundance they've stepped into in the presence of Jesus. They're there together--for almost a year now, in fact. Amazing.
Early the next morning, I walked out, taking one last look at his bedroom where I slept. Out the front door, down the stairs and up the path to the gate; I felt foggy with sleepiness, but tried to smell the trees and flowers as I passed them. Closing the gate, I looked back at the house in the dark. I smiled at it and soaked in the memory of them and the lives they lived in that sweet home.
I'm thankful I get to see them again someday and grateful because these goodbyes are only temporary. Boarding the plane, I came home. My roommate brought me flowers. I put the books on a shelf in my room. It's nice to have a piece of them with me.
I made a wise decision getting on that airplane.
Sunday, November 04, 2012
Sunday, October 21, 2012
A Place of Tenderness
Tonight I sat quietly during our church gathering asking the Lord to speak. He gave me three words, two were accompanied by pictures. They have to do with this place of tenderness I've been walking in (and as it seems to go, a friend came to find me so she could pray for me--sensing she was supposed to-- this occurred a short while after I heard these words from the Lord and "tenderness" was the vocabulary He gave her for me). I decided to come home instead of heading out with people tonight and on the drive, I mulled over those words again and I cried.
I don't understand why God wants to make promises to me--one of the things He said was something I've known, the other two things were new. I feel like it's one thing to remind me of the old promise, but why add anything additional? I don't think my heart can process it, let alone handle the idea of those things actually being on His heart for me. They feel too delicate and sad, somehow.
I am past the point where I accused Him of cruelty and have reached the place of simply no longer understanding Him in it--and, I leave it there. I don't get it. It doesn't make any sense to me. I'm not mad at Him, I just feel sad because I really don't believe those things are possible for me anymore. And, it's a paradox because I believe Him for so many things. I believe Him for these enormous realities that I see Him accomplishing. I do not waver as I perceive His faithfulness in the big picture. Yet in this, I miss how these promises, fulfilled, even matter now.
How can I believe one without the other? I don't know, but I do. I think I've just reached the point in the grieving process where I just feel sad. There is no anger, no rage. There's no real hope for a different outcome--this piece of my heart feels dead--it's left me and I cannot do anything about it. It is beyond my control.
And I sit in tenderness, in sadness wondering about promises again tonight... I wish He would stop making them to me.
I don't understand why God wants to make promises to me--one of the things He said was something I've known, the other two things were new. I feel like it's one thing to remind me of the old promise, but why add anything additional? I don't think my heart can process it, let alone handle the idea of those things actually being on His heart for me. They feel too delicate and sad, somehow.
I am past the point where I accused Him of cruelty and have reached the place of simply no longer understanding Him in it--and, I leave it there. I don't get it. It doesn't make any sense to me. I'm not mad at Him, I just feel sad because I really don't believe those things are possible for me anymore. And, it's a paradox because I believe Him for so many things. I believe Him for these enormous realities that I see Him accomplishing. I do not waver as I perceive His faithfulness in the big picture. Yet in this, I miss how these promises, fulfilled, even matter now.
How can I believe one without the other? I don't know, but I do. I think I've just reached the point in the grieving process where I just feel sad. There is no anger, no rage. There's no real hope for a different outcome--this piece of my heart feels dead--it's left me and I cannot do anything about it. It is beyond my control.
And I sit in tenderness, in sadness wondering about promises again tonight... I wish He would stop making them to me.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Life Since Then
Pulling off of the exit to that familiar beach
an old song piped through the radio
a memory lodged in the graveyard of my heart released
you played it for me on your birthday
And we were all in this spot, not long after that summer
a couple weeks from now, back then
I wore light khaki overalls (they were "in" at the time)
taking in the Pacific from this perch
a different boardwalk on another coast
reunited after two months apart
I had questions
I held sadness
I was grieving the end before the real beginning of the demise
but I smiled with the girls
for the cameras, for the sake of the memories we were making
Coincidence? I don't think so
that's typically not how it works
perhaps an Invitation to dig into that cavern again
to remember that we lost each other and my life since then
And it has been good--these days and years
my regrets have diminished considerably, considering
but I often wonder if I'll ever forget
what every piece of it meant to me
I recognized my fear
the frailty of my heart
not wanting it to be broken
I think I ran from the start
Perhaps there are no words to offer once again
it was another life, or it could have been
so I went to the beach and sat in the sun
I watched the gulls play, putting the thoughts far away
There are other things on my mind, after all
And closing my eyes, I listened as waves kissed mercilessly the shore
Trying to be present, wanting desperately to embrace the gift of it
but the recollections continued to sound in my ears
many a word I offered and those I wish I'd shouted
somehow lacking the courage or the understanding to know they were needed
I still carry all of them with me
Though I wanted to relinquish them
to the waves and the sun
back to that boardwalk on another coast
returning them to you, so they would leave me
and perhaps some of them did
I really don't know...
Though, I'd like to think so.
an old song piped through the radio
a memory lodged in the graveyard of my heart released
you played it for me on your birthday
And we were all in this spot, not long after that summer
a couple weeks from now, back then
I wore light khaki overalls (they were "in" at the time)
taking in the Pacific from this perch
a different boardwalk on another coast
reunited after two months apart
I had questions
I held sadness
I was grieving the end before the real beginning of the demise
but I smiled with the girls
for the cameras, for the sake of the memories we were making
Coincidence? I don't think so
that's typically not how it works
perhaps an Invitation to dig into that cavern again
to remember that we lost each other and my life since then
And it has been good--these days and years
my regrets have diminished considerably, considering
but I often wonder if I'll ever forget
what every piece of it meant to me
I recognized my fear
the frailty of my heart
not wanting it to be broken
I think I ran from the start
Perhaps there are no words to offer once again
it was another life, or it could have been
so I went to the beach and sat in the sun
I watched the gulls play, putting the thoughts far away
There are other things on my mind, after all
And closing my eyes, I listened as waves kissed mercilessly the shore
Trying to be present, wanting desperately to embrace the gift of it
but the recollections continued to sound in my ears
many a word I offered and those I wish I'd shouted
somehow lacking the courage or the understanding to know they were needed
I still carry all of them with me
Though I wanted to relinquish them
to the waves and the sun
back to that boardwalk on another coast
returning them to you, so they would leave me
and perhaps some of them did
I really don't know...
Though, I'd like to think so.
Friday, September 14, 2012
ABIDE
As things with the Lord and I go, today He calls me to abide. The pain of placing my hope in things that are not Him surfaces as I choose not to hope in those things any longer.
It feels like death.
Death of desire, death of promise, death of my heart.
Perhaps somewhere in there, God will bring life again. All I know is this... I cannot hope in anything that isn't Him anymore. It's too disappointing. My heart rises and falls by the expectation it has built around things that He has promised. I've focused far too heavily on the promise and not the One who has made those promises to me.
In a way, I don't doubt the promise. I do, however, doubt the form I imagined those promises taking. And so I give up on those pictures--those vain imaginations of what I think life should look like given what He has spoken over me. I wash my hands of those things with the tears that fall from my eyes.
I release.
I abide.
And for today, I feel a bit like a wheezy robot. The lump that rises in my throat as I think about this "letting go" and sticks there uncomfortably. I think it's grief. I think I've caused it for myself this time.
It feels like death.
Death of desire, death of promise, death of my heart.
Perhaps somewhere in there, God will bring life again. All I know is this... I cannot hope in anything that isn't Him anymore. It's too disappointing. My heart rises and falls by the expectation it has built around things that He has promised. I've focused far too heavily on the promise and not the One who has made those promises to me.
In a way, I don't doubt the promise. I do, however, doubt the form I imagined those promises taking. And so I give up on those pictures--those vain imaginations of what I think life should look like given what He has spoken over me. I wash my hands of those things with the tears that fall from my eyes.
I release.
I abide.
And for today, I feel a bit like a wheezy robot. The lump that rises in my throat as I think about this "letting go" and sticks there uncomfortably. I think it's grief. I think I've caused it for myself this time.
Saturday, September 08, 2012
An Invitation to Hope (this is a hard one)
The Lord is asking me to hope again. Winding through Thornton Park today on those lovely red brick streets, I told Him I knew that's what He is inviting me into--hope--and I replied with tears in my eyes, "I don't know how to do that right now, Lord." What does it look like to allow Jesus to build hope into my heart again when my heart feels like a desolate wasteland?
Earlier, I was reading a book and one of the characters was saying of the other that her heart was like a wall--4 feet thick and not scalable through human effort. I stopped in that moment and asked the Lord, "Is that what my heart is like?" In the quiet, I heard, "Yes." The frustrating part of this particular story is that I feel that I've come so far towards hope, but recently I'm encountering a new and rather enormous wall. I wondered aloud to the Lord, "What would it look like for that to crumble?" and, "Why does it matter to You that it does?"
In this process, I know He has postured Himself with utter humility and patience. He's peeling the wounds and my reactions that stem from those caverns back layer by layer. I believe He sees something worth fighting for in this--I wish I could see what He does.
Here's the thing, I think He sees me. I think that's what He's trying to say to me. He sees me. That feels disconcerting. My experience has taught me that my hope is futile. God may have spoken things to me in the past and even affirmed those things through other people along the way, but the reality is, those things aren't real. At least they've yet to be seen. And well over a decade later, I wish He didn't speak them to me in the first place... It feels cruel.
But here He is reminding me of those things and I'm regularly shutting down when they're brought up. Just the other day that happened. My mom said something to me on the phone and I had to fight against hanging up on her. I didn't ask her to say what she said--we were talking about something far from this particular topic of tenderness and it was as if she dropped a verbal bomb; as it detonated in the inner part of me, a lump appeared in my throat and began to rise. I couldn't take in air--invisible sobs developed inside my chest, but I didn't cry. I stifled them away. Intently turning my focus to the intricate patterns of texture on my ceiling, I didn't allow my eyes to close for fear that the tears really would come and I'd absolutely lose it.
I feel that now. This is so deep; it's so rooted inside of me. The lack of hope I experience is like bondage. I know that in His love, He's at work setting me free into hope, but I don't know if I'll ever make it there. When He tells me that hope doesn't disappoint because His love is poured out in my heart through the Spirit who was given to me, I see the depth of my lack. I know Him to be good, but not in this. I know Him to be faithful, but not in this. I know Him to be kind, but I miss His kindness in this. I know that He is trustworthy, but my trust disappears in this.
I feel like He's been playing a game with me. He's been asking me to actively live in light of directives He's given. I have. He has asked me to pray very specifically. I have, even to the point of pain. I know that's not true--He's not toying with me. But His way of doing things has felt like an adding of insult to injury. I wish I could see it through His eyes instead of these worn, used lenses. And so it's in these moments of invitation I muster my courage to pray, "Lord, lift my eyes," and remember that His mercies are new every day.
Earlier, I was reading a book and one of the characters was saying of the other that her heart was like a wall--4 feet thick and not scalable through human effort. I stopped in that moment and asked the Lord, "Is that what my heart is like?" In the quiet, I heard, "Yes." The frustrating part of this particular story is that I feel that I've come so far towards hope, but recently I'm encountering a new and rather enormous wall. I wondered aloud to the Lord, "What would it look like for that to crumble?" and, "Why does it matter to You that it does?"
In this process, I know He has postured Himself with utter humility and patience. He's peeling the wounds and my reactions that stem from those caverns back layer by layer. I believe He sees something worth fighting for in this--I wish I could see what He does.
Here's the thing, I think He sees me. I think that's what He's trying to say to me. He sees me. That feels disconcerting. My experience has taught me that my hope is futile. God may have spoken things to me in the past and even affirmed those things through other people along the way, but the reality is, those things aren't real. At least they've yet to be seen. And well over a decade later, I wish He didn't speak them to me in the first place... It feels cruel.
But here He is reminding me of those things and I'm regularly shutting down when they're brought up. Just the other day that happened. My mom said something to me on the phone and I had to fight against hanging up on her. I didn't ask her to say what she said--we were talking about something far from this particular topic of tenderness and it was as if she dropped a verbal bomb; as it detonated in the inner part of me, a lump appeared in my throat and began to rise. I couldn't take in air--invisible sobs developed inside my chest, but I didn't cry. I stifled them away. Intently turning my focus to the intricate patterns of texture on my ceiling, I didn't allow my eyes to close for fear that the tears really would come and I'd absolutely lose it.
I feel that now. This is so deep; it's so rooted inside of me. The lack of hope I experience is like bondage. I know that in His love, He's at work setting me free into hope, but I don't know if I'll ever make it there. When He tells me that hope doesn't disappoint because His love is poured out in my heart through the Spirit who was given to me, I see the depth of my lack. I know Him to be good, but not in this. I know Him to be faithful, but not in this. I know Him to be kind, but I miss His kindness in this. I know that He is trustworthy, but my trust disappears in this.
I feel like He's been playing a game with me. He's been asking me to actively live in light of directives He's given. I have. He has asked me to pray very specifically. I have, even to the point of pain. I know that's not true--He's not toying with me. But His way of doing things has felt like an adding of insult to injury. I wish I could see it through His eyes instead of these worn, used lenses. And so it's in these moments of invitation I muster my courage to pray, "Lord, lift my eyes," and remember that His mercies are new every day.
Monday, September 03, 2012
It's not every day...
Rarely am I caught off guard these days by a man. To be honest, it has been a very hard year in that arena and I feel as though my expectation and certainly my hope has waned. I was just surprised by a total stranger tonight. Shocked, really.
My friend and I were enjoying a little sushi, having abandoned our plans for a lakeside picnic with others who were all busy. We watched a movie that neither of us enjoyed and redeemed that a bit by heading out for dinner at a spot we both love. Our conversation looped from desiring to see some individuals we know experience redemption, then turned a corner closer to home where we explored what redemption means in some present personal realities.
Early in our time there a guy walked by and as he did so, inquired as to the type of roll I ordered saying something about how amazing it looked. I confirmed that it was indeed fabulous and he kept walking toward the door. We turned our attention back to the story at hand forgetting the interruption, delving once again into her story and process.
She and I reached a point in our dialogue where we were talking about what it means to walk in the truth and recognize that living in it fully can take time. At that point, the same guy came up to our booth, leaned on its side and wanted to know if we would mind him posing a question. He was perfectly charming and warm.
Smiling, he made a statement about grace then asked, "Do you believe the Holy Spirit convicts us of sin?"
"Yes," I replied.
"You do?"
"Yes, I do."
"Do you know that no where in the Bible does it talk about the Spirit convicting us of sin... It says that the Spirit convicts the world of sin..." then I joined him, "...of righteousness and of judgement" we finished; we were both smiling and I was nodding my head.
He went on to share more on what he had learned about grace, the meaning of repentance and what is required of us when it comes to forgiveness. Our dialogue lasted a whole three minutes maximum (and included me quoting more Scripture alongside him), but I was super impressed with this guy. He was so kind and interesting. I loved that he wasn't afraid to approach a couple of strangers and add to our dialogue. What he offered was such a blessing to my friend in that moment and many of the things he said have kept me thinking since I left the restaurant.
As we wrapped our brief conversation, he began to walk away and I noticed a take-out box in his hand.
"Did you get the volcano roll?" I asked.
"I got everything..." he said, smiling.
I had a fleeting thought of asking his name, but chickened out. He walked out the door and I just sat there with the stupidest look on my face--I couldn't stop smiling. My friend quickly said, "Go get his number!" I couldn't make myself...
Thinking of it now, I wish I would have asked for his name. It's not everyday that you meet a handsome, charming, warm, engaging guy who obviously loves Jesus and is willing to come over and start a somewhat deep conversation with the lightest air to it with you. I kept telling my friend that he reminded me of someone famous... Yep, Gerard Butler. Google the name for a pic. That's the guy I met tonight--at least the local, Jesus-loving version of him.
Walking to our cars, we realized that we had no idea where he came from after he walked to the door initially--it seemed like he reappeared out of thin air. Puzzled, we decided he may have been an angel. Our Gerard Butler angel.
My friend is officially praying that I run into him again. I don't think I'd mind it if that happened...
My friend and I were enjoying a little sushi, having abandoned our plans for a lakeside picnic with others who were all busy. We watched a movie that neither of us enjoyed and redeemed that a bit by heading out for dinner at a spot we both love. Our conversation looped from desiring to see some individuals we know experience redemption, then turned a corner closer to home where we explored what redemption means in some present personal realities.
Early in our time there a guy walked by and as he did so, inquired as to the type of roll I ordered saying something about how amazing it looked. I confirmed that it was indeed fabulous and he kept walking toward the door. We turned our attention back to the story at hand forgetting the interruption, delving once again into her story and process.
She and I reached a point in our dialogue where we were talking about what it means to walk in the truth and recognize that living in it fully can take time. At that point, the same guy came up to our booth, leaned on its side and wanted to know if we would mind him posing a question. He was perfectly charming and warm.
Smiling, he made a statement about grace then asked, "Do you believe the Holy Spirit convicts us of sin?"
"Yes," I replied.
"You do?"
"Yes, I do."
"Do you know that no where in the Bible does it talk about the Spirit convicting us of sin... It says that the Spirit convicts the world of sin..." then I joined him, "...of righteousness and of judgement" we finished; we were both smiling and I was nodding my head.
He went on to share more on what he had learned about grace, the meaning of repentance and what is required of us when it comes to forgiveness. Our dialogue lasted a whole three minutes maximum (and included me quoting more Scripture alongside him), but I was super impressed with this guy. He was so kind and interesting. I loved that he wasn't afraid to approach a couple of strangers and add to our dialogue. What he offered was such a blessing to my friend in that moment and many of the things he said have kept me thinking since I left the restaurant.
As we wrapped our brief conversation, he began to walk away and I noticed a take-out box in his hand.
"Did you get the volcano roll?" I asked.
"I got everything..." he said, smiling.
I had a fleeting thought of asking his name, but chickened out. He walked out the door and I just sat there with the stupidest look on my face--I couldn't stop smiling. My friend quickly said, "Go get his number!" I couldn't make myself...
Thinking of it now, I wish I would have asked for his name. It's not everyday that you meet a handsome, charming, warm, engaging guy who obviously loves Jesus and is willing to come over and start a somewhat deep conversation with the lightest air to it with you. I kept telling my friend that he reminded me of someone famous... Yep, Gerard Butler. Google the name for a pic. That's the guy I met tonight--at least the local, Jesus-loving version of him.
Walking to our cars, we realized that we had no idea where he came from after he walked to the door initially--it seemed like he reappeared out of thin air. Puzzled, we decided he may have been an angel. Our Gerard Butler angel.
My friend is officially praying that I run into him again. I don't think I'd mind it if that happened...
Friday, July 20, 2012
Dear Church, Please Rise
Another massacre in Colorado and my heart sits heavy thinking about history and evil and the true Enemy. I had many thoughts today about what took place in Aurora last night, but one made me pause and I needed to write about it. I was thinking, "Jesus come back!" I want Him to do something about this tragedy and this evil and this pain.
That thought quickly diminished as another surfaced... Church, let's rise up! The very Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead lives inside of each of us who have chosen to follow Him. That very Spirit enables us to bring peace, power, love and more to circumstances like this and not only that, but to the world as a whole. To all of the brokenness, evil, pain... By His stripes we are healed! He came to set the captives free! He's about binding up the brokenhearted. And there are many of those today... In Aurora and throughout the globe.
The reality is, we need to get out of our pews and demonstrate this Good News of the Kingdom! More than ever before, we need to proclaim and show people what it means to walk with God and know Jesus. We need to get our hands dirty and walk in places where people wonder about our faith. We've stayed too tidy for too long, Church. We're trying to keep our noses clean instead of storming the gates of Hell--remember Jesus said, "The gates of Hell will not prevail" against His Church. Do we live like we're advancing on them, pushing them down, or do we live like we're the ones keeping Hell out of our neat little yards?
This guy that did this... He's practically a kid. He allowed himself to be a tool used by the evil one... I think the conversation will loudly turn toward debates about guns and at-risk-youth and things like that. But, there are deeper issues that must be addressed.
Sin. Our depravity and need for a Savior. The thing is, the Church gets this, right? But do we walk in light of the hope that is within us? Do we step outside of ourselves and live this Good News everyday of our lives and see Jesus shape and transform the things and people around us? Jesus, as one of my pastors reminded our church on Sunday, came to give life to dead people!! In our sin, we're dead. But God, who is rich in mercy loved us and sent His Son to pay the penalty for our sin! He made us alive...
I think the Lord was saying to me today, "Jessica, you do something..." He's already provided everything I need to step out. Am I willing? Are you?
What dreams has He given us for the people and places around us? It's time to start dreaming those dreams and calling what HE sees into existence! We need to tell the Enemy that we're not standing by waiting for Jesus to return to make this better--He already has made it better--He crushed the Enemy underfoot! And, Jesus will come and take His place as rightful King someday. I cannot wait!! It's time for the Church to step into that place of victory with the One who is called Faithful and True. It's time for us to take seriously the reality that He's entrusted the advancement of His Kingdom to us... His Spirit gives us the ability to walk in that truth today. What are we are doing about it?
I want Jesus to come back to a Bride that's ready for Him... Church, let's rise and show the world who He is, what He's done and what He is doing. Let's show them the truth of a Kingdom that's so real and so beyond anything we could ever imagine that this world absolutely pales in comparison. Because, it does. It doesn't come close. So, let's show the people around us this hope, freedom, healing, power and love. Let's move towards them and demonstrate this Kingdom to them.
Jesus, may we steward well all You've entrusted to us until that Great Day and all for Your glory. Amen.
That thought quickly diminished as another surfaced... Church, let's rise up! The very Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead lives inside of each of us who have chosen to follow Him. That very Spirit enables us to bring peace, power, love and more to circumstances like this and not only that, but to the world as a whole. To all of the brokenness, evil, pain... By His stripes we are healed! He came to set the captives free! He's about binding up the brokenhearted. And there are many of those today... In Aurora and throughout the globe.
The reality is, we need to get out of our pews and demonstrate this Good News of the Kingdom! More than ever before, we need to proclaim and show people what it means to walk with God and know Jesus. We need to get our hands dirty and walk in places where people wonder about our faith. We've stayed too tidy for too long, Church. We're trying to keep our noses clean instead of storming the gates of Hell--remember Jesus said, "The gates of Hell will not prevail" against His Church. Do we live like we're advancing on them, pushing them down, or do we live like we're the ones keeping Hell out of our neat little yards?
This guy that did this... He's practically a kid. He allowed himself to be a tool used by the evil one... I think the conversation will loudly turn toward debates about guns and at-risk-youth and things like that. But, there are deeper issues that must be addressed.
Sin. Our depravity and need for a Savior. The thing is, the Church gets this, right? But do we walk in light of the hope that is within us? Do we step outside of ourselves and live this Good News everyday of our lives and see Jesus shape and transform the things and people around us? Jesus, as one of my pastors reminded our church on Sunday, came to give life to dead people!! In our sin, we're dead. But God, who is rich in mercy loved us and sent His Son to pay the penalty for our sin! He made us alive...
I think the Lord was saying to me today, "Jessica, you do something..." He's already provided everything I need to step out. Am I willing? Are you?
What dreams has He given us for the people and places around us? It's time to start dreaming those dreams and calling what HE sees into existence! We need to tell the Enemy that we're not standing by waiting for Jesus to return to make this better--He already has made it better--He crushed the Enemy underfoot! And, Jesus will come and take His place as rightful King someday. I cannot wait!! It's time for the Church to step into that place of victory with the One who is called Faithful and True. It's time for us to take seriously the reality that He's entrusted the advancement of His Kingdom to us... His Spirit gives us the ability to walk in that truth today. What are we are doing about it?
I want Jesus to come back to a Bride that's ready for Him... Church, let's rise and show the world who He is, what He's done and what He is doing. Let's show them the truth of a Kingdom that's so real and so beyond anything we could ever imagine that this world absolutely pales in comparison. Because, it does. It doesn't come close. So, let's show the people around us this hope, freedom, healing, power and love. Let's move towards them and demonstrate this Kingdom to them.
Jesus, may we steward well all You've entrusted to us until that Great Day and all for Your glory. Amen.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Encouragement for the Journey
It was six o'clock and I was walking along Orange Avenue. Trying to determine some locations to send groups of people throughout our city for the evening, my mind was focused but I tried to make an effort to notice the people around me. It's funny how people don't say "Hi" to one another anymore...
When I lived in the Hub, I once complimented a girl on her outfit while I was out and about one day. She was absolutely taken back by the interaction--she looked shocked. I think she'd likely grown so used to ignoring others and being ignored that even a simple acknowledgement of her or her outfit was something beyond strange. It was a moment that stuck with me.
So I was strolling along at a good pace, taking in the line in front of The Social and how everyone's outfits looked the same. It was really humid this afternoon and I continued to think that jeans were a bad choice, but the mosquito bites covering my legs motivated me to throw on the skinny's as I headed out the door and into town. I continued south and walked by a man who was extremely drunk. He had black eyes and as he watched me, stumbled into a metal gate that was far away from his original path. His intense attention startled me and I quickened my steps.
I took a deep breath as I crossed over Washington Street and continued taking some notes on the little sheet of paper I was carrying. Coming towards me was an enormous man (like a football player enormous). As we arrived closer to one another, he slowed and said, "I'm so sorry... But, you're beautiful." I now was the one who was taken back. He was so kind and sincere. There was nothing creepy about the interaction. I blushed and said, "Thanks! Have a great day!" walking past him and turning towards him as I said it. He said, "I just did--you made it make great..." He said a few more things and I continued to blush and walk south on Orange.
I'll tell you what... That was sweet. And, I knew it wasn't really that guy. It was the Lord. I just sensed this quietness in the moment, like everything stopped and I was supposed to hear all of those things and just take them in. I was surprised by it all for sure. I smiled for a few blocks and I think I stood up a little taller. There's something about being seen and acknowledged. I was grateful for that stranger today and the ways that he blessed me through his sincerity.
And I just thought of the reality that each of those people that I passed--the intense drunk man, the people lined up for a show wearing the same outfits and everyone in between--they all have stories. They all need to be acknowledged and complimented and seen. I want to be the kind of person that moves outside of myself and takes risks loving them in the way I can--telling them what I see. More importantly, what He sees in them.
I am thankful for those moments today. The Lord affirmed me in a way that was so meaningful to me right now. (I didn't realize how much such a small thing would impact me.) He reminded me that I'm not invisible--neither are the people around me in this city. He loves.
When I lived in the Hub, I once complimented a girl on her outfit while I was out and about one day. She was absolutely taken back by the interaction--she looked shocked. I think she'd likely grown so used to ignoring others and being ignored that even a simple acknowledgement of her or her outfit was something beyond strange. It was a moment that stuck with me.
So I was strolling along at a good pace, taking in the line in front of The Social and how everyone's outfits looked the same. It was really humid this afternoon and I continued to think that jeans were a bad choice, but the mosquito bites covering my legs motivated me to throw on the skinny's as I headed out the door and into town. I continued south and walked by a man who was extremely drunk. He had black eyes and as he watched me, stumbled into a metal gate that was far away from his original path. His intense attention startled me and I quickened my steps.
I took a deep breath as I crossed over Washington Street and continued taking some notes on the little sheet of paper I was carrying. Coming towards me was an enormous man (like a football player enormous). As we arrived closer to one another, he slowed and said, "I'm so sorry... But, you're beautiful." I now was the one who was taken back. He was so kind and sincere. There was nothing creepy about the interaction. I blushed and said, "Thanks! Have a great day!" walking past him and turning towards him as I said it. He said, "I just did--you made it make great..." He said a few more things and I continued to blush and walk south on Orange.
I'll tell you what... That was sweet. And, I knew it wasn't really that guy. It was the Lord. I just sensed this quietness in the moment, like everything stopped and I was supposed to hear all of those things and just take them in. I was surprised by it all for sure. I smiled for a few blocks and I think I stood up a little taller. There's something about being seen and acknowledged. I was grateful for that stranger today and the ways that he blessed me through his sincerity.
And I just thought of the reality that each of those people that I passed--the intense drunk man, the people lined up for a show wearing the same outfits and everyone in between--they all have stories. They all need to be acknowledged and complimented and seen. I want to be the kind of person that moves outside of myself and takes risks loving them in the way I can--telling them what I see. More importantly, what He sees in them.
I am thankful for those moments today. The Lord affirmed me in a way that was so meaningful to me right now. (I didn't realize how much such a small thing would impact me.) He reminded me that I'm not invisible--neither are the people around me in this city. He loves.
Friday, July 06, 2012
The Root of It
This is the place of pain
the starting point where resentment builds
an angled edge where they tell me again,
"That wound over there,
it's deeper than yours...
that heart hurts more...
your ache is real,
but compared to that...
it's Nothing."
I've chosen this path in the past
it winds and turns
downward and onward it curves
as I slink along it
doing what I'm told
believing what I'm issued
all the while, shutting down
handling the pieces and rebuilding the wall
Because,
"That wound over there,
it's deeper than yours...
that heart hearts more...
your ache is real,
but compared to that...
it's Nothing."
People wonder why
I show of shame
when my tears arise and fall
I apologize
when I get too emotional
I run away
when I sense it all crashing down and all around...
I guess you could say it's because...
that wound over there,
it's deeper than mine
that heart hurts more
yes, my ache is real
but compared to that
I'm Nothing.
the starting point where resentment builds
an angled edge where they tell me again,
"That wound over there,
it's deeper than yours...
that heart hurts more...
your ache is real,
but compared to that...
it's Nothing."
I've chosen this path in the past
it winds and turns
downward and onward it curves
as I slink along it
doing what I'm told
believing what I'm issued
all the while, shutting down
handling the pieces and rebuilding the wall
Because,
"That wound over there,
it's deeper than yours...
that heart hearts more...
your ache is real,
but compared to that...
it's Nothing."
People wonder why
I show of shame
when my tears arise and fall
I apologize
when I get too emotional
I run away
when I sense it all crashing down and all around...
I guess you could say it's because...
that wound over there,
it's deeper than mine
that heart hurts more
yes, my ache is real
but compared to that
I'm Nothing.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Is this Where Redemption is Found?
A few dear friends have been speaking important things into my life over the last few days. I have been experiencing my brokenness profoundly to the point of understanding that I've been running in circles for years and years wondering how I can doubt God's goodness. In many areas of my life I've come to know the truth that He is good; the lack of comprehension in another realm has left me undone over and over again. It is in this pain that I sit wishing and praying it away.
One friend offered that perhaps His "goodness" wasn't what was most critical--she said she sensed the issue arose from a place below it. Believing or having faith or telling myself that He is indeed good would not be the cure to this illness within me. She encouraged me to ask Him to show me what is beneath it.
So here is the question: What do I think of myself?
I know what God says about me. I'm growing in my awareness of what others think. But, the idea that I need to have a voice in this process is a new thought for me. (That reality has roots in some other parts of my story that are literally leaping out from the pages of my mind in this moment!) It all reminds me of the words a man offered back to Jesus in Luke 10:27 regarding the greatest commandment:
"You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength and all your mind. And, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'"
Back in college, one of my pastors taught through this brief passage. I remember realizing that loving oneself--knowing, experiencing and living from the identity that God has given us in Christ--was of utmost importance. I don't think I realized until today that this is still an enormous struggle for me. And, I don't want to live here... I want Him to redeem it. I really, really do.
One friend offered that perhaps His "goodness" wasn't what was most critical--she said she sensed the issue arose from a place below it. Believing or having faith or telling myself that He is indeed good would not be the cure to this illness within me. She encouraged me to ask Him to show me what is beneath it.
Today, these words offered by one of my best friends struck deeply: "There's one voice that's missing here...Your voice."
So here is the question: What do I think of myself?
I know what God says about me. I'm growing in my awareness of what others think. But, the idea that I need to have a voice in this process is a new thought for me. (That reality has roots in some other parts of my story that are literally leaping out from the pages of my mind in this moment!) It all reminds me of the words a man offered back to Jesus in Luke 10:27 regarding the greatest commandment:
"You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength and all your mind. And, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'"
Back in college, one of my pastors taught through this brief passage. I remember realizing that loving oneself--knowing, experiencing and living from the identity that God has given us in Christ--was of utmost importance. I don't think I realized until today that this is still an enormous struggle for me. And, I don't want to live here... I want Him to redeem it. I really, really do.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
What If I'm Not as Brave as Ruth?
She left everything she knew to follow her mother-in-law to a different country. Her husband was dead. Her sister-in-law chose to listen and head back to her homeland. Ruth didn't listen, deciding instead to stay with Naomi. She decided to worship the God of Naomi's ancestors. She moved toward relationship and stuck with it.
Then she put herself out there--she went to work. She knew they needed food to survive and although she might face danger or abuse in the fields, she worked hard anyway. God showed her favor as she found herself laboring in a field owned by Boaz. I'm sure she had no clue how he would choose to move toward her and provide for her. But, he did and Boaz went above and beyond.
Naomi saw an opportunity for their future--Boaz was a man who could change their situation--He was one of their kinsman redeemers. Ruth did everything Naomi instructed her to do. She put herself out there in the most pronounced way. Instead of taking advantage of her or rejecting her, Boaz acted honorably and sought Ruth's best. He went through the proper channels and kept his word in the end. He sacrificed his own future by taking Ruth as his wife.
God honored all three--Naomi was no longer destitute because God gave her a son through the union of Ruth and Boaz. Ruth and Boaz became great grandparents of King David and ultimately, Jesus came from their family line. They were blessed in ways they likely couldn't have imagined.
I've been thinking about how brave they all were, but especially Ruth. In a day when women have such independence, I don't have a need to have a man in my life in this way. But, I desire it. Honestly, it's easier these days for me to hang my hat on Paul's words in the New Testament where he says it's better to remain single than be married. Living in that, I don't have to wrestle with the tension in my heart of actually wanting a relationship, but doubting God's goodness or desire in wanting to provide for me. My experience with men has not matched what I understand as I read about Boaz--he was filled with such care and integrity. Instead, it feels easier to let go of the desire altogether.
Though my circumstances are certainly not the same, the heart issue is... Ruth chose to believe something that I'm still struggling with in this area of my life and I admire her for it. She ventured out and lived a life of remarkable faith. She knew God as Redeemer. Instead of shutting down and failing to remain open to how God might want to provide for me, I pray I follow her example.
Then she put herself out there--she went to work. She knew they needed food to survive and although she might face danger or abuse in the fields, she worked hard anyway. God showed her favor as she found herself laboring in a field owned by Boaz. I'm sure she had no clue how he would choose to move toward her and provide for her. But, he did and Boaz went above and beyond.
Naomi saw an opportunity for their future--Boaz was a man who could change their situation--He was one of their kinsman redeemers. Ruth did everything Naomi instructed her to do. She put herself out there in the most pronounced way. Instead of taking advantage of her or rejecting her, Boaz acted honorably and sought Ruth's best. He went through the proper channels and kept his word in the end. He sacrificed his own future by taking Ruth as his wife.
God honored all three--Naomi was no longer destitute because God gave her a son through the union of Ruth and Boaz. Ruth and Boaz became great grandparents of King David and ultimately, Jesus came from their family line. They were blessed in ways they likely couldn't have imagined.
I've been thinking about how brave they all were, but especially Ruth. In a day when women have such independence, I don't have a need to have a man in my life in this way. But, I desire it. Honestly, it's easier these days for me to hang my hat on Paul's words in the New Testament where he says it's better to remain single than be married. Living in that, I don't have to wrestle with the tension in my heart of actually wanting a relationship, but doubting God's goodness or desire in wanting to provide for me. My experience with men has not matched what I understand as I read about Boaz--he was filled with such care and integrity. Instead, it feels easier to let go of the desire altogether.
Though my circumstances are certainly not the same, the heart issue is... Ruth chose to believe something that I'm still struggling with in this area of my life and I admire her for it. She ventured out and lived a life of remarkable faith. She knew God as Redeemer. Instead of shutting down and failing to remain open to how God might want to provide for me, I pray I follow her example.
Friday, June 08, 2012
A Reminder Not to Forget
I sat quietly with Him this morning. Two me-sized french presses of coffee and my Bible. I have a front and back side of a page left in my current journal, but I couldn't pull it out to record what I was thinking. It's been like that for a couple weeks. Yesterday, I ventured out to buy the next edition hoping it would help me move on. I love the new one. Somehow, I did not have it in me to finish the other though. Maybe it says something that it's ending.
The soon-to-be old one is blue. The now-friend that bought it for me didn't know me when she did. She later recounted that she picked up a red journal, but set it aside thinking, "No, blue..." She was right to buy that one. It was in my heart before I met her to have a blue journal. A little unexpected surprise. A gift that represented something I didn't yet understand.
Then, that year, it became a tangible representation of what we called the "Blue Dot." The place that I hoped to arrive after walking a path forward from the "Red Dot." Standing on this red dot, I looked ahead to an unknown future--I was so broken, messy and lacked direction. The blue dot represented hope for a time to come that would bring with it change and clarity and healing. It's hard to leave that process behind, even in the face of the good that has come from red to blue to now...
As I sat crossed-legged on the chair at my round dining room table, I read about remembering. God constantly called the Israelites to remember that He was who He claimed to be, that He loved them, and how He was faithful to His promises. Time and again they forgot. Time and again He forgave them and made a way for them to come back. Deuteronomy 6:4-9 is called the Shema, "Hear"--an essential part of Jewish worship, something that is repeated multiple times in a day. What I took from it today? It's a reminder not to forget.
I still don't quite understand what it was about this reading today, but I sat there with those words for a while. I found myself closing my eyes and listening in the silence. Tears surfaced and I cried. I just let my head hang slightly downward as I took notice of my breathing and the rhythmic beating of my heart. I thought about God's goodness to me and the ways that I want to trust, but struggle with doubt. I imagined what it would be like to put these words in other places where I couldn't miss them--I so desire to remember.
And, honestly, I just sat there as the Lord pressed into my heart. He was reminding me that there are some things I care about in my life that I'm letting go of because I don't believe that He could be good to me in those areas. I don't see how certain outcomes are possible--my understanding is so limited--but He gently reminded me that nothing is impossible for Him. Nothing. I wonder about it though. His timing is a mystery to me. The things He calls me to do at times, the same. I've been obedient to Him in ways these past few months that have only furthered the pain I experience in one particular area of my life. I know He is good to me even in that, but I still don't understand how that is true in the present.
Perhaps that's where I leave it tonight. I want to remember. Remind me not to forget?
The soon-to-be old one is blue. The now-friend that bought it for me didn't know me when she did. She later recounted that she picked up a red journal, but set it aside thinking, "No, blue..." She was right to buy that one. It was in my heart before I met her to have a blue journal. A little unexpected surprise. A gift that represented something I didn't yet understand.
Then, that year, it became a tangible representation of what we called the "Blue Dot." The place that I hoped to arrive after walking a path forward from the "Red Dot." Standing on this red dot, I looked ahead to an unknown future--I was so broken, messy and lacked direction. The blue dot represented hope for a time to come that would bring with it change and clarity and healing. It's hard to leave that process behind, even in the face of the good that has come from red to blue to now...
As I sat crossed-legged on the chair at my round dining room table, I read about remembering. God constantly called the Israelites to remember that He was who He claimed to be, that He loved them, and how He was faithful to His promises. Time and again they forgot. Time and again He forgave them and made a way for them to come back. Deuteronomy 6:4-9 is called the Shema, "Hear"--an essential part of Jewish worship, something that is repeated multiple times in a day. What I took from it today? It's a reminder not to forget.
I read them aloud. Then, I wrote them on a wall. (A chalkboard wall.)
4 “Listen, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone.[a] 5 And you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your strength. 6 And you must commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these commands that I am giving you today. 7 Repeat
them again and again to your children. Talk about them when you are at
home and when you are on the road, when you are going to bed and when
you are getting up. 8 Tie them to your hands and wear them on your forehead as reminders. 9 Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates."
(www.biblegateway.com)
I still don't quite understand what it was about this reading today, but I sat there with those words for a while. I found myself closing my eyes and listening in the silence. Tears surfaced and I cried. I just let my head hang slightly downward as I took notice of my breathing and the rhythmic beating of my heart. I thought about God's goodness to me and the ways that I want to trust, but struggle with doubt. I imagined what it would be like to put these words in other places where I couldn't miss them--I so desire to remember.
And, honestly, I just sat there as the Lord pressed into my heart. He was reminding me that there are some things I care about in my life that I'm letting go of because I don't believe that He could be good to me in those areas. I don't see how certain outcomes are possible--my understanding is so limited--but He gently reminded me that nothing is impossible for Him. Nothing. I wonder about it though. His timing is a mystery to me. The things He calls me to do at times, the same. I've been obedient to Him in ways these past few months that have only furthered the pain I experience in one particular area of my life. I know He is good to me even in that, but I still don't understand how that is true in the present.
Perhaps that's where I leave it tonight. I want to remember. Remind me not to forget?
Saturday, June 02, 2012
Grafted In
My friends are adopting a little boy from Ethiopia and just flew to meet him this week. As I've read their trip updates, I've been absolutely overwhelmed by the beauty of this story. Their journey has been long to reach this initial meeting and court date, but he belongs to them now--he is their son! And, he'll come home in the next few months. Our many prayers have been answered...
I've cried as I've read their words and imagined what it has felt like to meet this person they've invited into their family. They chose this--it was intentional. He is wanted. He is desired. He is loved. And yet, they did not even know him until recently. Those realities blow me away and lead me to tears.
God knew though. He knew all. He understood from the beginning of time that He would lead my friends in this way and give them a powerful love for this little boy. God orchestrated it all--in His love He chose this for them. I cannot understand it. It's too wonderful, it's so meaningful...
The thing is, I don't know that I know love like that. I know that God is love. I experience His love and yet, I don't think that I've recognized how His love for me reaches out to me in this same way. In John, Jesus tells us, "You did not choose Me, but I chose you..." He has grafted me in and has made me His daughter. The Lord has been taking these pieces of their story to speak directly to my heart reminding me of the depths of His love for me. I feel so wanted. I feel desired. I feel so loved. And still, I cannot adequately express what it means to me. In fact, the floodgates are opened and I weep each time I consider it.
To Paul and Anne, your faithfulness and perseverance has blessed me in a way I never imagined. Your story has helped me see the Father with new lenses. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. There is certainly more to this story in the days ahead. I think I just needed to pause in this moment to acknowledge the impact and significance of what it means to comprehend that we're wanted. Thank you for living out His heart for all of us in your lives and in your family. It matters.
I've cried as I've read their words and imagined what it has felt like to meet this person they've invited into their family. They chose this--it was intentional. He is wanted. He is desired. He is loved. And yet, they did not even know him until recently. Those realities blow me away and lead me to tears.
God knew though. He knew all. He understood from the beginning of time that He would lead my friends in this way and give them a powerful love for this little boy. God orchestrated it all--in His love He chose this for them. I cannot understand it. It's too wonderful, it's so meaningful...
The thing is, I don't know that I know love like that. I know that God is love. I experience His love and yet, I don't think that I've recognized how His love for me reaches out to me in this same way. In John, Jesus tells us, "You did not choose Me, but I chose you..." He has grafted me in and has made me His daughter. The Lord has been taking these pieces of their story to speak directly to my heart reminding me of the depths of His love for me. I feel so wanted. I feel desired. I feel so loved. And still, I cannot adequately express what it means to me. In fact, the floodgates are opened and I weep each time I consider it.
To Paul and Anne, your faithfulness and perseverance has blessed me in a way I never imagined. Your story has helped me see the Father with new lenses. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. There is certainly more to this story in the days ahead. I think I just needed to pause in this moment to acknowledge the impact and significance of what it means to comprehend that we're wanted. Thank you for living out His heart for all of us in your lives and in your family. It matters.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Something Old... Something New...
Today started with me in my version of 'pajamas' (as my friend, Julie tells it anyway--it was actually a skirt and tank top, but you know...), little to no make-up and a waking up as you go sort-of attitude. Today was Lindsey and Kevin's wedding day. Julie and I headed out early, meeting Lindsey and her sister at Starbucks to spend some time together, but most importantly, time with the Lord.
We did that for Julie's wedding nearly two years ago. How special to repeat it on this day.
Friday, Saturday and Sunday have been a whirlwind of activity, but days filled with joy. From a Bachelorette Party that started at my house and ended at a local comedy club the girls and I love, to a sweet rehearsal where we practiced a dance the bridal party would do at the reception, to Raglan Road for the rehearsal dinner, there were so many sweet moments. We've laughed a ton.
The ceremony was one of the most wonderful I've yet to be a part of up to this point. The bridesmaids entered the sanctuary in our "Pearl Pink" dresses and the music played. We tried to walk slowly. There was a brief opportunity for quiet as a relative read a short passage in Revelation talking about Jesus coming for His Bride, the Church. The music began again and we all sang familiar words, "How great is our God..." as the church doors opened and Lindsey and her dad made the long walk down the aisle. When she reached the front, she and Kevin sang these words to one another through teary eyes, smiling at one another. Her hand full with bouquet lifted into the air as she praised Jesus. I was moved to tears. It was truly beautiful.
And, they committed their lives to one another. They made a covenant before God and all of us to live this life as one, to love each other and together, to pursue His Kingdom. They reminded each other that they couldn't do it in their own strength--that they would fail if they did so--but, trusting God, they said, "I do." It was a powerful reminder of that truth and reality... They can't do it on their own. They will need help.
Then the party... And, oh, what a party! We danced and danced and danced. And, laughed and laughed and laughed. I told a couple of the guys from Colorado that they needed to move here. Seriously, I mean it (if you ever read this blog, I mean, I meant it!!!). I probably said it ten times. We caught up on life since way back then and something inside me was reminded of where I've come from. All the while, I'm spinning around the dance floor (maybe I was jumping and twirling at once... you'll never know) taking in the faces of people that have become dear to me here. Worlds collide. It was awesome. I also made new friends, but who is really surprised? :)
At long last, my friends needed to go. Out came the bubbles and we made the line, showering them as they ran to their 'getaway' car--a lovely red Ford Mustang convertible--nicely done. I sort-of yell over the crowd and the bubbles, "Love you, Linds!!!" while she grabs something and quickly turns to me with a smile then promptly chucks a bouquet at me! Number five. Number five... I felt loved (and the girl has an arm, so my ribs also felt a bit shocked by the impact!). Then they drove away... to Jamaica or something cool like that.
Going back to gather my things, I said goodbyes to the Colorado friends. I really delighted in seeing them! I'm a little surprised by how much it meant to me. I tracked down Lindsey's family, hugged them and told them what a great party they threw. Smiling, I savored a short walk down my old street finding the valet who said I was the last one... He was kind to wait for me to come get my car. I drove home replaying it all in my head. I feel really thankful--such a perfect way to spend three days of your life, really...
Happy, Happy Wedding Day, Kevin & Linds. I love you guys so much. Thanks for letting me share in your beautifully orchestrated day... It really was an honor.
We did that for Julie's wedding nearly two years ago. How special to repeat it on this day.
Friday, Saturday and Sunday have been a whirlwind of activity, but days filled with joy. From a Bachelorette Party that started at my house and ended at a local comedy club the girls and I love, to a sweet rehearsal where we practiced a dance the bridal party would do at the reception, to Raglan Road for the rehearsal dinner, there were so many sweet moments. We've laughed a ton.
The ceremony was one of the most wonderful I've yet to be a part of up to this point. The bridesmaids entered the sanctuary in our "Pearl Pink" dresses and the music played. We tried to walk slowly. There was a brief opportunity for quiet as a relative read a short passage in Revelation talking about Jesus coming for His Bride, the Church. The music began again and we all sang familiar words, "How great is our God..." as the church doors opened and Lindsey and her dad made the long walk down the aisle. When she reached the front, she and Kevin sang these words to one another through teary eyes, smiling at one another. Her hand full with bouquet lifted into the air as she praised Jesus. I was moved to tears. It was truly beautiful.
And, they committed their lives to one another. They made a covenant before God and all of us to live this life as one, to love each other and together, to pursue His Kingdom. They reminded each other that they couldn't do it in their own strength--that they would fail if they did so--but, trusting God, they said, "I do." It was a powerful reminder of that truth and reality... They can't do it on their own. They will need help.
Then the party... And, oh, what a party! We danced and danced and danced. And, laughed and laughed and laughed. I told a couple of the guys from Colorado that they needed to move here. Seriously, I mean it (if you ever read this blog, I mean, I meant it!!!). I probably said it ten times. We caught up on life since way back then and something inside me was reminded of where I've come from. All the while, I'm spinning around the dance floor (maybe I was jumping and twirling at once... you'll never know) taking in the faces of people that have become dear to me here. Worlds collide. It was awesome. I also made new friends, but who is really surprised? :)
At long last, my friends needed to go. Out came the bubbles and we made the line, showering them as they ran to their 'getaway' car--a lovely red Ford Mustang convertible--nicely done. I sort-of yell over the crowd and the bubbles, "Love you, Linds!!!" while she grabs something and quickly turns to me with a smile then promptly chucks a bouquet at me! Number five. Number five... I felt loved (and the girl has an arm, so my ribs also felt a bit shocked by the impact!). Then they drove away... to Jamaica or something cool like that.
Going back to gather my things, I said goodbyes to the Colorado friends. I really delighted in seeing them! I'm a little surprised by how much it meant to me. I tracked down Lindsey's family, hugged them and told them what a great party they threw. Smiling, I savored a short walk down my old street finding the valet who said I was the last one... He was kind to wait for me to come get my car. I drove home replaying it all in my head. I feel really thankful--such a perfect way to spend three days of your life, really...
Happy, Happy Wedding Day, Kevin & Linds. I love you guys so much. Thanks for letting me share in your beautifully orchestrated day... It really was an honor.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Love Lavishly!!
I've been thinking a lot this last week about my most recent post. I faced my own words about throwing off those perceptions and moving forward in faith with honesty and realized I was actually on the fence about following through. As I investigated what was behind all of it, I saw that I did not believe it was possible to do so--that was hard to see in myself. The idea of throwing those perceptions off has been a point of contention for me since. What would it look like? What would it mean?
Going back to my own motivations, I understood that part of me wanted to allow a wall to remain so I would not have to risk and be hurt again. Again. Sometimes that feels like the story of my life, but I realize that it's such a small story to live out in this life. And, my story is part of a much grander and exceptionally beautiful narrative, so why would I allow this tiny thing to have lasting influence?
I talked about love in the last post, too. I know it is the tool, the sword, to combat what I've been facing. Part of me has felt like it's too heavy to pick up, too cumbersome to hold. That's the lie. It feels heavy because it's contrary to what the world wants me to do and I'm loaded down with those images, words, ways of operating--love feels so raw, so unfamiliar, so risky.
And the truth is that it is... It's all of those things, but His Kingdom is built on that foundation. It's contrary to the old life, the old me. I'm still learning to receive it. How do I offer it while I'm still in school trying to figure out how to let it in? But I realize, we learn so much better by experience... These experiences are helping me on both fronts; so I receive it and I learn to offer it. I love lavishly because I am lavishly loved.
Love is the reality that grounds these feet that want to run away. It holds them in place and invites me to stay (all of me). Love allows me the freedom to be myself and live from that place--truly throwing off those perceptions and living as freely as I did before they were brought to my attention. The perceptions are not my guide on to how to behave. Love is. He is. We love because He first loved us.
Going back to my own motivations, I understood that part of me wanted to allow a wall to remain so I would not have to risk and be hurt again. Again. Sometimes that feels like the story of my life, but I realize that it's such a small story to live out in this life. And, my story is part of a much grander and exceptionally beautiful narrative, so why would I allow this tiny thing to have lasting influence?
I talked about love in the last post, too. I know it is the tool, the sword, to combat what I've been facing. Part of me has felt like it's too heavy to pick up, too cumbersome to hold. That's the lie. It feels heavy because it's contrary to what the world wants me to do and I'm loaded down with those images, words, ways of operating--love feels so raw, so unfamiliar, so risky.
And the truth is that it is... It's all of those things, but His Kingdom is built on that foundation. It's contrary to the old life, the old me. I'm still learning to receive it. How do I offer it while I'm still in school trying to figure out how to let it in? But I realize, we learn so much better by experience... These experiences are helping me on both fronts; so I receive it and I learn to offer it. I love lavishly because I am lavishly loved.
Love is the reality that grounds these feet that want to run away. It holds them in place and invites me to stay (all of me). Love allows me the freedom to be myself and live from that place--truly throwing off those perceptions and living as freely as I did before they were brought to my attention. The perceptions are not my guide on to how to behave. Love is. He is. We love because He first loved us.
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