sorting out

I'm still sorting this out. That I am in one place, but pieces of my heart are elsewhere. In a vibrant college town, scattered in the hill country, big building cities, and over great bodies of water. And I'm here. Moving is one of the hardest things I have done and will do. Sometimes it makes me mad. Because I want so badly to be somewhere else. Not at all because where I am now is awful. My here and now is quite lovely and bright and exciting and changing.

Yet there are people. That's it, the people - friends, family, sisters, brothers, kindreds. They are what make me wish I could hop in a DeLorean and go back. Better than that, I wish I could just teleport. Because I want to see and hear and hug and laugh with them, now.

I miss the smell of cigar smoke on the front porch and the crash of water on skin jumping in to the river. Running down the dunes, kicking sand in to the air and scraping ice off of my windshield with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Even more I miss the sound of our three voices singing in to the night, the way she interrupted an entire coffee shop with her elated laughter, chasing them through corn fields at night, and sharing so many meals with them.

All of them. Whether plopped on blankets in the living room, the tall table in the kitchen, over queso at 3am, or making eggs & bacon at midnight. The breaking of bread (or chips) brought us together. On Sunday nights, Thursday adventures, or after closing HBCB and froyo runs. For that I am thankful.

We lived wide, loved deep, and laughed long. If my adventures weren't so wonderful, my memories not so strong, my heart not so tangled in others, it simply would have been wasted. It would have been a life less lived. Mediocre.

So, while I get annoyed when the tears sting my eyes as that song comes on or when I see the picture and wish it was me sitting and having coffee with them - I have to remember. Remember, that there I Lived. And that Jesus gives Life, because He wants it to be lived. And just as He called me then, teaching me of adventure and discovery and deep joy & relationship, He calls me now. Lessons will continue and new ones will come. Always though, will He be my Guide. The perfect Partner, Leader, and Friend - calling me deeper in to Life as He gives it - raw, hopeful, and full of adventure.

slowing

We sat and talked. He whispered "slowing".
He gave me that word for this hue of life.
As I come back & step in to new roles.
Slowing.

Trying. Doing. Working. Creating.
Those are words I'm so much more comfortable with.
I'm good at them.
And I think that's the problem.

The world doesn't need me to try more, do more, work more, create more.
I don't need to do those things.
But why?
Because it's me.

If I desire to abide. To rest in Him, the Vine.
How is my doing, trying, creating, working going to produce anything?
It's me. My effort, my sweat, my stress, my tears, my frustration.
I don't think the world needs or wants more of that.

We're broken. We know frustration and pain and hurt and stress.
In fact, we hate it. We shirk it off.
Yet we lay in it.
We attempt to put down roots there, on our own.

We toil & dig to grow.
By doing and working.
Our strength.
No fruit.

The world doesn't need that.
It doesn't need more people trying to be robots.
It doesn't need more production.
We need hope, healing, to be held.

I need hope, healing, to be held.
So this is where slowing comes.
It's invitation is beautiful, simple, warm.
Yet, it scares me.

I fear the opinion of man.
The question of
What are you accomplishing?
Why aren't you doing this good thing?

My answer.
With shaking voice & trembling hands.
I don't know.
But, He has called me here.

To this abode of Slowing
I have been invited in
to a place of Hope & Healing
Where I am eternally Held.

be fearlessly authentic

speak the words, cry the tears, allow the emotion
you are human, made of dust

don't fear judgement if you speak
don't fear weakness if you cry
don't fear foolishness if you react

you were not made to "operate"
you are not held together by bolts & screws
you are made of much more
made of flesh & blood & bone

but more - you were redeemed by Flesh & Blood
Sacrifice was made, so you wouldn't have to pay
so you don't owe anything, anyone

you live because of His breath in your lungs
those lungs that burn as tears stream and the words tumble forth
those lungs that gasp when the laughter comes loud & long & deep

now, be fearless my friend.
your debt was paid & there is not a single person you owe

so live loud, authentic, messy lives
because there - right in the middle of that
is where flesh & blood meets Flesh & Blood

and beauty is made from ash
ash collected from the altar
because of the Sacrifice

now LIVE. fearless. authentic.
unto Him. with Him. IN HIM.

becoming

"beauty in the becoming"

Those words came one night and I wrote them down.

Here I am, and I don't know what I'm doing. There are days that begin easy and end hard, and days that begin cast in cement (aka really hard) and stay that way. Call me Han Solo, because on those days I just feel like I'm stuck hanging on the wall of an alien gangster's club. Pretty icky.

I don't know what to write about all of it. I've been trying to formulate words to describe "lately" but nothing captures it all. To describe these past few months as "beauty in the becoming" doesn't really seem accurate. It's been pretty ugly. I've been made more aware of my flesh and I'm not really a fan. Coming to realize that I have life less figured out than I thought.

I desperately would like to see where the "beauty" comes in to the picture. Maybe my definition of beauty is being redefined. Taken from it's shallow, vain resting place to be put in the fire to be purified.

*Note: Fire burns, oh and it hurts like Sheol

This might be where things come together. Before I moved back, back to the place I once called home - Jesus whispered of the trail ahead. He breathed "healing". More and more as I dwell on healing and what that means, I'm reminded of a burn victim. The process of healing for a burn victim begins in tearing away at the dead flesh left mauled by the flames. Not once, but twice, and three times, and more.

The healing that is desired for the burns to heal, involves tearing away at everything visible. It begins with digging deep. And it hurts. But that is the only way to heal.

I'm not saying Jesus dragged me to this place to throw me in a fire and watch the flames lick my flesh. I've done a pretty good job at dancing with the fire myself. He comes in as the blisters form, skin touched by the fire of this fallen place. Whether I jumped too close or someone else yanked me over.

He lays me down. The great Physician takes my hand and says, "This is going to hurt, but feeling is only for the moment. The healing I desire for you requires this and you can trust me. My hopes for your life exceed any single anticipation you have. The work I do here will last, it is not simply a salve that sits on the skin. My hands will dig deep in to the wounds and I will bring beauty where there once was just ash."

Beauty in the becoming.
Healing.
Refinement.
by His hands.

let's be real: cuss words & Jesus with a megaphone

These last few weeks I've said more cuss words than I care to count, ate more bowls of ice cream than I care to admit, and watched an innumerable amount of Office episodes. That feels like a fair summary; however, there's a lot more stewing beneath my dairy stained pj's (and I don't just mean a hungry tummy).

You see, God does this funny thing when we ask Him for something.....He answers.

It was brought to my attention over coffee one evening that so often we ask God for something or to teach us something without really anticipating or wanting to be taught. Like patience for example, we assume that having to stand in one line for twenty minutes was our lesson. BAM! Patience on lock.
Thank you Jesus for teaching me patience. "Woohoo!" for you, you stood in a line with twenty-eight other people and you didn't even think a bad word or tap your foot with impatience.

Oh boy, I don't think that's it.

This year I've been learning. ALOT. (Grammar not included because I can't remember if there's suppose to be a space between "a" and "lot" in this situation.) Conversations with Jesus have included lots of talk about adventure. Ironically, one of my favorite quotes about adventure is from the documentary 180 South and says, "...adventure is when everything goes wrong. That's when the adventure starts."

I'm rethinking my favorite quotes list.....

It's funny, as I've been walking along and the trail has gotten harder, the brush thicker, and a few branches have snapped back in my face - it's harder to hear. Man am I glad that Jesus has a megaphone because even as I've whirled in the white noise of lies, He comes in loud and clear.

"YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN ALONE!" - Jesus

That one came today. It came blasting through the overhead speaker at the pity party I was throwing for myself that DJ Devil so kindly offered to provide free entertainment for.

"I am enough. I am rest." again He speaks and I am reminded that is journey is not for comfort. It's not so I'll be able to stand in a long line with a genuine smile on my face. This adventure of learning in the "going wrong" is that I may know more fully the depth of love of my Father. His desire is not for disaster to overcome, but that I may be reminded that He overcame. In Him I am embraced by grace - the arms of a Savior that has walked in my place.

I'm still tripping my way down this trail. Some days I just really wish I drove a car that never had problems and that I didn't have to worry about a check passing the bank. In those moments still, He is present. As I kick and scream and cry, He brushes me off and picks me up and takes my hand as we continue on. On this road called "Adventure" where everything may go wrong, Jesus carries a megaphone and reminds me I am never alone.

thank you

Transition mode: initiated.
One job over, the other beginning.
Four hour commute.
Packing boxes.

This has been the bare bones of life the last two weeks. The flesh being all the bittersweet moments in between. I can't say enough to thank the friends and family that have walked the last few weeks with me, and really this entire year been faithful to walk beside and point me back to Him. I am humbled to tears by their grace and generosity. I've been a messy sight to behold on some days, yet these brothers and sisters have taken me as I've come. Tear stains and upset words, exhausted body and overwhelmed brain. They were there. Whether present in the moment or a skype/phone call away. (Good thing we have a flat rate phone bill, right mama? ;)  )

So this is me saying thank you. I know it really isn't much, but I know I really can't repay y'all all that you have showered upon me! Right there is one way you've pointed me back to Jesus and shown me Him again and again. Grace extended - not for gain.

Thank you for putting flesh-action to the Gospel. You are all incredible!!

through His lens - wrap up

Tying this series up with a pretty, little bow. Lots of lessons learned in the choosing. Choosing to see with Eyes Eternal. Not once, but over and over and over again. I'm beginning to tap my foot along with this rhythm, the beat of blessing. Starting to singing along with the melody, voice following notes up & down. As the song grows louder, or as my ears grow deaf, filled with the noise of this temporary, broken home we call earth - He sings it still. Over me, around me, filling every crevasse of my day with Sound Divine. This soundtrack being played over the hours as I choose to see through His lens, with kaleidoscope eyes. The broken glass - spinning, as the lyrics of Love tumble over my shoulders -embracing.