Monday, April 30, 2018

Finding Home

"I'm coming home," he says.  And over the next days as finals finish up and dorm rooms are packed up, they will all be here.  Home.  All 5 of us together once again.
Spring 2011- One of my very favorite pictures of
my favorite people in the whole world
Webster says that home means the place you live.  Your permanent residence where all your stuff is.  For a long time home is where you grow-up, where you're from and what made you who you are.  But that can even be too painful to call home for some.  Many call home a place and for others it is a trail of places.  After you have moved around and survived enough transitions, finding home can become blurred and distorted.  Forever just out of reach.  Roots never settled or connections unable to attach and you begin to believe home is unattainable.
I believed that for awhile.  Allowed the sadness of it to hang on a bit too long even.  Thinking that feeling at home somewhere wasn't possible for me anymore.  So I clung hard to what I did have, my husband and 3 kids and felt like I had found home.  With them I am home.   Not able to see the unfair pressure and unhealthy reliance that can bring especially on a pastor husband until it was too late.
Because something happened.  The kids grew up and now call home college dorms and apartments or a stop over until life takes them on another adventure.  And while my heart is thrilled in the launching, and bursts with pride for all they are becoming, home eludes me again.

Yet as I have surveyed and pondered over these last months, I have come to rest in finding home anew.  In a different form and it wasn't until I heard the words, I am coming home today, did I put it together. 
Home is not a place or does it rest in another person.
It's me.  Me being at home.
Me being at home with myself.  Resting in who God has created me to be.
And when I can truly allow the divine kind of love to take over, then I can become home.
A home for whomever I am with.

At first I was afraid of this new form and what it would mean.   The more I think about it, the more I can claim the peace of it.  No longer am I reaching for someone else to be what makes me feel at home.  The pressure is off and freedom arises;  Free to allow others to be who God has created them to be too.
I think maybe that is what it means to be a safe person.  One who others can just relax with and feel like they can be their authentic selves.  Isn't that what we all really want.
To be safe. At home.

I am loving how God is changing me.  And I pray He never stops
Making me a safe home.

Monday, April 23, 2018

Allowing access and a piece of paper

The birds have returned, chirping their cheerful tunes of contentment.  Trees still drip and sway from the morning rain that welcomed this Monday.   A beautiful symphony for my soul as it leans into a new week with all of it's agendas and lists.  Busy comings and goings over these weeks of meetings, new directions, re-sets, all with the anticipation of kids wrapping up another year of college and being together again.
Clouds open up as the sky breaks forth even for a moment and then the wind hurries them along.  Going to be a day where if you close your eyes, you may miss it.  The beauty of change.  
I have closed my eyes too many times.  I have missed, been unwilling to let go for the beauty to arise.  Afraid of the song it may sing or the scar it might brush up against.  The vulnerability of it all.  This beauty of change.  

Of being moldable, 
soft and safe when in the hands of a loving God.  
A place to breathe, and unclench.  
Heart and hands open
trusting He is good.
Allowing All Access to search me.  Teach me.  Show me.
For when you encounter the love of God, the life Jesus showed us, the way he loved us and sending us the Holy Spirit within, everything changes.  
Everything changes 
and not just once
But for always.

Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 3- 

16 But whenever someone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. 17 For the Lord is the Spirit, and wherever the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 18 So all of us who have had that veil removed can see and reflect the glory of the Lord. And the Lord—who is the Spirit—makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image.

Seems this changing is for a lifetime.  For us to live, whole and free.  
Able to freely give and receive.  

And somehow your story, 
the one you thought was broken, is redeemed.  

It is just a piece of paper that I was handed at a big meeting this past weekend.  Saying something about ministry and being licensed.  But for me,
for this one broken heart that had closed her eyes afraid and
forgotten how big her God is,
it means He is still redeeming.
That even if I had, He didn't forget His promises or that calling He had placed in my girl heart.

May I live life allowing access  

Saturday, April 14, 2018

A blank wall

But you know that disappointment is just the action of your brain readjusting itself to reality after discovering things are not the way you thought they were" I heard someone say.  Or maybe it was what they should be, or used to be.
I mull this over as stare at the wall.  This big blank wall with all the promise of a new creative solution.  And I cannot for the life of me decide what I want to put there.  So my mind wanders and ponders over my life and all of who I am.   I think like my life, I am hesitating the commitment of putting that nail in the wall.  Is this what I really want to put there?  Living disappointed or being afraid of disappointment will do that do you.
Make you question
and second guess.
Over think and re-analyze.
In other words, drive yourself crazy or paralyze any forward movement.
A blank wall waiting for an idea.  And another day goes by.
Martin Luther King Jr said, "There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love."
Love of family, friends, passions, moments in time you hold fast to.....and all susceptible to disappointing us.  Yet it's the love that you hold to really.  The deep love.  The Jesus-type love.  
After denying Jesus 3 times.....Then Peter remembered the word Jesus had spoken: "Before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times." And he went outside and wept bitterly.  Matt 26:75
So much disappointment all around that day.......  Jesus knowing Peter would deny and then Peter becoming disappointed in himself.
It's the weeping bitterly, the regret, the blank wall that lingers, that gets me.  Rips me up really.     
The amazing part is the story doesn't end there and Peter goes on to fulfill his destiny, the great commission.   Calling out to all of us who have been disappointed, and have bitterly disappointed.  We get another chance. 
Another day to love deeply,
brave hard conversations
or offer an encouraging word
To apologize or forgive.
And let go.
Disappointments will visit again.  For me, it's learning to breath easier along with them but allowing love to reign anyway.  And as I find more grace in my self-disappointment,  the openness for others in theirs, offers freedom for growth for all of us.
Removing the fear of a wrong nail hole allows creativity to flow
and a blank wall becomes full.