Twenty Nine

How did you spend the last day of your 20’s? 

You were woken up by a cranky, still sleepy, diapered little boy who just wanted his “Dada.”  Not in bed,   but on the couch because you have this terrible cough and, well, you know this mama needs her rest.  For that I love you all the more. 

They don’t happen often, nights we don’t sleep side by side, and when they do I miss you terribly.  But those nights remind me of this precious gift we have and how many lonely nights I waited for a best friend to share the quiet still of the night with.  Now I get to share them with you and I couldn’t be more thankful.

It was a simple morning and I made you eggs with peppers and ham and cheese, but you were too captivated by the view out the window to know your plate was waiting for you.  Because on the other side was our growing-up-too-fast boy, the boy that made us a mama and dada, who redefined who we were, just enjoying the fresh air and shooting his bow for his proud father to see.  You do that you know?   You slow down to see the moments that so many are too busy to take notice to and you soak them in. 

When it was time, you put on those dust stained jeans, buckled your worn leather belt and readied for work.  Today you happened to wear the original rust-orange “Burkholder Construction” sweatshirt from all those years ago.  It’s still hanging in there with not too much wear and tear.  I’m not sure how.  You kissed me, told me you loved me and made your way out the door to make a way for our family.  We do notice.  We don’t take your calloused hands for granted. 

 

The dust bothered your throat, yet you carried on.  In your working and searching for tools you found the sign of bees and went after your trap.  You took a moment to enjoy the wonder of it all – the buzzing of the bees, the signs of spring, the things that Farmer taught you – and then you ran for the forgotten cobbler.  Just in time, and perfectly done, you pulled it out of the oven to help the woman whose faith you have inherited. 

As you were there and we were here, we prayed for you and loved you and spoke of your upcoming day.  That sweet baby girl of yours, she wants to get you fake eyelashes for your birthday.  I’m certain if I allowed it, those would out-do the nail clippers she got you for Christmas.  She’s the most unique person I’ve ever met and mysterious in most of her ways.  But she knows whose arms will lift her high for one more dance and she loves you “to shreds.” 

It was time for you to leave work but not before stopping at the nearby farm to return a tool.  And there, you took the time to be an uncle.  A fun, loving uncle who plays in the mud and messes the sidewalk with chalk because it’s who you are to them and they love you so.  That little mud-covered hand held close to his face and of course you pushed it all the closer, and then you let him play the joke on you.  Boys being boys.  You being wonderful you.    

You came home early enough to catch up with me, with mud on your forehead you walked through the door, quietly as to not wake the sleeping babe.  But he knows his Daddy’s steps and his smile was wide and he climbed right up your dust-covered self to wrap his arms tight around your neck.  He squeezed with all his might and lingered there with you. 

It was a beautiful day today, a day that makes you beg for spring to break the cold, that reminds you that there is a break-through right around the corner.  They came running in to find you because more than anything they wanted someone to throw them the ball.  Out you went and from behind the walls I could hear the ping of the bat, the whoops and hollers of a homerun, the laughter and joy of a Daddy playing ball with his children.  Somehow, as we hurry to get from one thing to the next, you have this way of making time for the things that matter the most.  Somehow, you know when the time is needed and when the time is right. 

I had to leave and you watched over this house full of blessings that we call our own.  You served them dinner, dished out cake and fumbled your way through “Detectives In Togas.”  When I returned, our home was dimly lit and you were still hushing the littlest to sleep.  Oh, how blessed I am to be yours and to have you as mine.  You came walking down and could only muster one word: “kids.”  Yeah, they are exhausting but you are so good at raising them up right. 

As the night fell, we took the time to just plain be.  You kissed away my tears and reminded me of the strength we have in the One who is Faithful.  And we laughed…hard. 

Tomorrow you will be 30 and soon enough we will look back and think of how young this age is, even though it feels drastically old right now.  And as we do, I pray that the rain will have poured.  I pray that our nights are filled with the steady beat on a tin roof. 

May your character be known as a man of valor, a man who not only knows the Truth, but who responds to it.  May you always take the time to savor the moments and never let them pass you by. May you never settle for less than God’s best, know who He has called you to be and pursue it with all your heart.  By the grace of God may you say “no” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and live a self-controlled, upright and godly life.  May you become wiser than the wise old sages simply by doing what God tells you.  May you build things that last forever as you willingly lay down yourself for His use.  And may you always know how very much you are loved. 

Always. 

 

“For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men.  It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope – the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.”

Titus 2:11-14

Fly Away Home

There are moments in our lives when we slow down and live like we are to live.  Moments when we breathe deep to just know we are breathing.  When we realize the fragility of our days being numbered, of our lives being but a mere breath, a blinking of an eye.  Because when the ones we love dearly are so close to grasping the hand that formed them, we soak in every moment knowing any moment will be their very last.

There we all gathered, soaking in, breathing deep, bending over to gently move her snow white hair, to hold her frail hand, to pour our love out to the sweet soul readying for Home.  Because deep in us we know it is time.

There she lay in her earthly tent longing to be clothed in her heavenly dwelling.  She was all tucked in under the warm green blanket.  One after another leaning in close, tears flowing into the crisp sheets, every one pressing hard into a God who faithfully bottles every tear.  And there it was, just hanging above her bedside, catching my eye over and over...

A picture of a monarch butterfly, all in its beauty, all just a moment from taking flight.

Isn't it true of the lot of us Christ-followers?  We are tethered here to this ground as we daily transform to the likeness of Christ.  We are bound and wrapped by the in and out of what we call life and living: days we feel our burdens pressing tight against our hearts that long to fly free; days when we feel all but trapped in constant pushing and pulling of hardship and trial;  days when our beauty feels too hidden, too far away from anything worthy of glory; days when we feel we hang by so little, that we may break down, and in the breaking down, maybe break through...

Then, one day our day comes.  That sacred moment we break forth our wings and prepare to fly away.  We make it there to the moment we have pressed on toward and just like that...

 We fly away Home.

To find peace in knowing that our wings take flight high above any hardship, any pain, any suffering, any thing this world has to offer. 

We fly to the One calling, now being able to reflect all the glory of Him. 

"Well, this is part of life I guess..."

The old Farmer he holds on tight, strong and sure, and eyes glazed.  His mama sure did raise good ones.  Then he whispers God-words right into my ear...

"I love you... always."

Yes. He loves us. Always.  

And it is through these times of deep sorrow that we need that Truth to ring loud and clear.  Those are the words that will help us find our wings. Those are the words that will lead us Home.

"We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at Home with the Lord."

2 Corinthians 5:8

"I'll fly away, oh glory, I'll fly away
When I die, hallelujah by and by, I'll fly away
Some bright morning when this life is over, I'll fly away
To a land on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away
When the shadows of this life have grown, I'll fly away
Like a bird from these prison walls, I'll fly away
Oh how glad and happy when we meet, I'll fly away
No more cold iron shackles on my feet, I'll fly away
Just a few more weary days and then, I'll fly away
To a land where joy will never end, I'll fly away."

"I'll Fly Away"

Held

As we bowed our heads to join in prayer, he paused and asked the church to hold hands. As we prayed, my boy's 8 year old hands barely gripped mine.  And I noticed.  There was a time when his hand clung to mine to find security, reassurance and comfort.  But these hands were growing and changing and didn't seem to need to lean so hard into mama anymore.  I gripped his hand tighter hoping to let him feel how much his mama loves him, to reassure him that I will always be here to hold his hand and join him to pray. His hand didn't grip back but simply let me hold on.  

I thought of a picture that I saw a few days prior of one strong hand holding the frail hand of a grandmother who is fragile and worn from a life lived 89 years. 

Hands that have held generations full of children; hands that have closed in prayer as a faithful servant; hands that have stirred, kneaded, measured and baked day after day; hands that have carefully mended the tattered and torn; hands that have wrung to wash and make new again; hands that have poured - water, gravy, seeds - emptied themselves to give to others; hands that in time have gently laid crossed on the small frame of her lap; hands that hold a lifetime of stories and that are now reaching Home.

I couldn't help but wonder if my sweet boy would one day, in my own frailty, grip my hand.  He is growing, changing and as he works his way through this life, his grip will surely let go and cling again.  But more importantly, I was reminded of our Heavenly Father's grip on our hands.

We cling so tightly to Him when we are desperate and needing His comfort; when we are unsure, unsteady and wanting His guidance; when our faith is as it should be and child-like.  But how often do we loosen our grip, maybe even let go, when we try to do it on our own, in our own strength and by our own way. Yet through it all He holds tight to us.

He never lets us go.

A mama holding so tight, pouring all her love into her child that she prays is attentive enough to receive it...

A loved one holding so tight to a life that is nearing Home, praying hard for strength to let go while holding on to every moment that is left...

This is our God.

He pours His heart out to us, lavishes us with His goodness and grace, never holding back and always drawing us toward Himself.  So that in this life we may know that we are held.

In times of living with plenty and times of want,

In times our hearts are filled with joy and the times we fill with sorrow,

In times we are fully aware of His presence and times we are fully feeling alone,

In times we praise and times we plead,

In times we see clear the way and times we need The Way,

He will never let go.

May we have faith to never let go of His faithful hand. May we cling tight to the Giver of Life - life eternal, death-conquering.  May we know fully that every moment the Truth is that we are held. May we use these hands we've been graciously given to graciously give Christ to others in the time we have.  May we lift our hands high to praise the One who will securely carry us Home when our time is near.

"You hold me by my right hand.  You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory... My heart and my flesh may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." 

Psalm 73;23-24, 26

There Is A Gray

If social media had a brick and mortar building, I’m fairly certain most Christians could be found outside of it with their pickets in hand shouting “There is no gray!”  Every other headline seems to read some insinuation of that.  With good intentions Christians make their stand against a film that currently has everyone talking.  I’ve never read the book, I’ve never seen the trailer for the film, but I’ve seen enough to get the idea of what “50 Shades of Grey” is about. 

And I may stand as one but I am here to tell you church: You are going about “the grey” the wrong way. 

Let me be clear:  There is a gray.

Sex by God’s design is black and white, there is right and there is wrong.  But sex in our culture has the most shades of gray ever to exist.  By turning a blind eye and chanting “no gray,” you are simply taking a stand on a podium high and lofty above every other sinner and casting judgment in a place that isn’t yours to take.  It isn’t something new to anyone that God doesn’t promote pornography or abuse and it isn’t new to anyone that Christians would be the first to make their stand against such things. 

But church, please hear my plea: you are missing the hearts behind the hurt. 

“But Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.  At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them.  The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery.  They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery.  In the Law of Moses commanded us to stone such women.  Now what do you say?”  They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.

But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger.  When they kept questioning him, he straightened up and said to them.  “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.”  Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground. 

 

At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there.  Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

“No one, sir,” she said.

“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared.  “Go now and leave your life of sin.”

John 8:1-11

There is a gray area and the church is casting stones when we should be extending grace.  And this is about so much more than a movie.  These shades of gray that have been labeled as “soft porn” and “accepted abuse” are found everywhere in a culture that has grown complacent and acceptant of sin.  Did you watch the Super Bowl?  The Grammy’s? Even if you sat down for evening television, you’ve witnessed all that which you are casting stones for.  All the gray you speak against is right before your eyes, in primetime television, in the latest song, on nearly every shelf of every movie-store.  God created us to live perfectly, intimately with one another as man and woman and also with Himself.  But, in the garden we fell and with that fall came the gray area.  We are all sinners, in desperate need of grace.  Jesus didn’t come to condemn the world, but to save the world.  Jesus didn’t come to condemn your sin, he came to pull you right up out of the pit of it and to save your life from it (Psalm 40:1-2).  As a church, as the body of Christ, as His followers, we need to get bold enough to face this shaded gray area for what it is.  We need to find the courage to be honest about what it is and get out of it.  We need to find courage to admit to one another that we have struggled too,

   that pornography had once had a grip,

   that lust had pulled us away from our true love,

   that we had given ourselves away in desperation, 

   that we have taken advantage

   or that we have allowed ourselves to be taken advantage of...

wherever we once were.  Because we all have in some way fallen short of the pure intimacy we were created for.  It’s time the church gets humble and bows low before the God who rescued them.  It’s time we are no longer quick to forget just how far we have been carried by arms that stretched across Calvary.  If we are going to be bold enough to throw a stone, why not be bolder and set down the stones so we can reach out a hand to help rescue the bleeding and broken hearts from the sin that they know.  To say

   I’ve been there,

   I understand,

   You were made for so much more,

   You have not done too much or gone too far,

   You’re not alone and I will help you find your way.

We serve this Amazing Creator who is able to create all things new.  Even our sex lives, even our passions, even our deepest longings and desires.  And while others turn away, labeling those living in the gray as dirty, unclean and unworthy, our Savior extends His grace.  Our Savior walks right into the gray and says “I see you, I know you, I love you and we’re getting you out of here.”  He let the adulteress walk away un-stoned with the command to leave her life of sin.  She was drug in a sinner, full of shame and disgrace, expecting to be cast off and she walked away as a woman whose brokenness was seen, whose heart was desired, who was forgiven and set free. 

 

Let us not be quick to forget that those stuck in the gray are in desperate need of Saving Grace.  They are there for a reason – searching, longing for their hearts to be seen, sought after and desired.  May we find the courage to help lead them out of it, not condemn them for being in it.  The church is full of those who have once lived in the gray, who still struggle to find freedom from the gray, as well as those who have found victory over the darkness and it’s time we humbly stand and reach out our hands. 

The Truth about sex is black and white, it is a gift to be shared with one.  Intimacy with God requires that we have no other gods before him.  Intimacy with our spouse is just the same – there should be no-one and no-thing else involved.  It is a sacred gift to give ourselves in love and in passion.  Society is wrought with other ways, all lies that pull us apart instead of bringing us together and we must not settle for it.  When the enemy has a foothold on what is sacred in ourselves, our lives become formed around guilt and shame.  When the enemy has a foothold on the bedroom of marriage the whole family suffers, because it is in the intimate moment of oneness that unity is strengthened.   The truth is black and white, there is no in between, it is clear: intimacy is a gift to be protected, valued, honored, and respected.  It is to be shared with one: to be given and to be received, freely and openly, without reserve.  Anything clouded, any shade otherwise, is settling for less-than when there is an offer for more.  Because His love is free, His bounty is endless and through Him all things are possible.

We need to turn away from media and turn back into our bedrooms, back into God’s holy union.  We need to search God’s Word to relearn intimacy as we were created for it.   We need to stop turning to our circle of friends with our frustrations and start turning toward one another in forgiveness.  We need to stop hiding our fears and our failures and start looking to the one we share this life for encouragement and new mercy.  And loved one, we need to start extending the same forgiveness that we were given by Christ, because this life and our lovers faults are not about us at all, he or she deserves respect – no matter what.  We need to stop carrying the weight of our past into the bedroom and work out our faith to leave the baggage at the cross.  We need to start getting on our knees, side by side, before God and asking for restoration.  We need to start believing in a God who is more than Able to bring full healing, full restoration and full redemption to all that was once lost and broken in our lives: spiritually, emotionally and physically.  Because sex is more than physical, it is spiritual and emotional and requires our full presence and a full God.  We need to get brave and responsible and teach our kids about Godly sex and stop letting the world parent our greatest blessings.  We need to teach this generation to live with genuine Christian conviction, to stand strong and to bow low.  To not only recognize the sin, to not only call out the sin, but to be even braver and reach out to the sinner.

Church, we need to get this gray thing right, lives depend on it.  Jesus came to bring us life to the full in every way (John 10:10).  If we are true followers of Jesus, we will live to bring life as well.  Stop chanting “no gray”, because the gray is very real, there are hearts and souls living there who need the light of Jesus in us to guide them out.  Be the light, reach the sinner, and humble yourselves to recognize your own sins and work out your own faith with conviction (Phil. 2:12-13).  May we be a people who lays down our stones, who lavishes grace and who walks away from our lives of sin.   May we recognize the lost, the hurting, and the searching and guide them to Rescue. 

 

Lord, may your Truth prevail as the enemy wages war on something so treasured.  I refuse to conform to the patterns of this world and to accept anything less than the beauty you created within my heart and my body.  Illuminate your Word that I may know clearly how you designed intimacy to be shared.  May I look to you to renew my deepest longings, my passions, and my desires.  You are the Author of miracles and of all things new, restore me Lord in the sacred places, that I may share this gift with one.  Help me to lay down the wounds of my past at the foot of the cross, knowing your love covers it all, that I may love freely, deeply, and without restraint.  Thank you for this gift that burns like a blazing fire, like a mighty flame.  Amen.

 

“Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure…” 

Hebrews 13:4

 

 

 “But I tell you anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already

committed adultery with her in his heart.” 

Matthew 5:28

 

“Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted. 

The troubles of my heart have multiplied; free me from my anguish. 

Look upon my affliction and my distress and take away all my sins.” 

Psalm 25:16-18

 

“If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. 

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us

our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” 

1 John 1:8-9

WalMart, Pajamas and Grace

I’m outnumbered every day.  When my husband leaves for work, there’s three tiny bodies with big, big lives filling up our home and one mama trying to keep up. This season, of having little ones that depend on you for most everything, is a rough one.  Yes, it is extremely rewarding with hugs and snuggles and being wanted, with seeing them grow and their personalities shine, but it is extremely exhausting.               

I used to be brave enough to take my kids along for grocery trips, but since having our third it doesn’t happen much anymore.  My husband and I loaded the kids up and went to WalMart.  They were worn out from the holiday and so were we but it was a trip we needed to take and for the most part everything was going smoothly.  We were on our way to check out, anxious to leave, and we forgot cereal.  My husband walked to the back of the store to pick it up while the kids and I continued on.  There we were, men’s clothing on one side and what seemed to be one-thousand-tempting-displays-of-sweets on the other.  I felt like a walking circus, as though the store hired me to be their customers’ source of entertainment for the evening.  It was ten minutes of out-numbering that seemed like an eternity.  Our youngest was protesting about being confined to the cart, he wanted Daddy back and he wasn’t going to wait.  Now we were wrestling.  Our oldest was admiring the sweets, laughing as he said “what about this one mom?”  He knew I was stressed and was trying to relieve me but it was having the opposite effect.  Then there was our little girl, she was dancing in her own world, carefree of who was watching, what was surrounding her or of anything else.  She twirled down the aisle as I directed her each time a cart needed to pass.  Her dancing was sweet but I couldn’t play the role of traffic director for much longer.  Ahead of us were two elderly women looking at pajamas right in the middle of the aisle.  They were unsteady on their feet and I surely didn’t want to risk squeezing pass them in what little room we had.  At the sound of my “traveling circus” they both looked up and watched us draw closer.  I rounded the kids close to the cart, which was more like corralling chickens and we stepped off to the side.  The ladies watched and to my surprise, smiles spread across their faces. 

 Grace. 

They walked on by, and as pleased as could be one turned to me and said “How are you doing Mom?!”  My heart was instantly relieved at their free giving of understanding, of kindness, of patience in two simple smiles and a few kind words.   I wanted to remember their glistening eyes, wide smiles and the one woman’s gentle voice.  I wanted to remember the grace that she passed to me in one quick exchange.  Because one day, when my kids aren’t so small, I will pass a mama with her hands and heart full.  I don’t want to treat her and her children as an inconvenience to me and my schedule, as so many do.  Because you see, us mamas of little ones do have our hands full and we are often outnumbered.  

You may wonder why she brought the kids along or why she doesn’t have help.  I have a loving and more-than-helpful husband but that other mama you may pass may be going it alone.  Maybe her and her husband work different shifts to help with the cost of childcare.  Maybe she doesn’t have a reliable support system.  She may be silently wishing she could have come shopping alone because it would be so much easier and faster that way.  I’ve done it before.

You may wonder why the kids aren’t in bed, but maybe this is the only opportunity she has to shop.  Maybe, just maybe, she chose to go late to avoid the glares of inconvenienced shoppers.  I’ve done it before. 

You think she could have at least got out of her pajamas but maybe she hasn’t had time to do laundry.  Maybe she chose to spend time helping with homework or singing a lullaby instead of bent over a washer.  Maybe she wore all her decent clothes earlier that week and spends little on herself in order to care for her kids.  Maybe she has had a week of sleepless nights and literally forgot to get dressed before leaving the house.  I’ve done it before. 

You judge her parenting because her kids are whining and loud but maybe it’s been a hard day for all of them.  Maybe they are well-behaved children who are simply having a bad day.  Maybe mama did appear a little more like a raging bull instead of the tender-hearted parent she is, maybe she’s stressed and exhausted.  I’ve done it before.

I’ve been “that” mama so many times, because it’s part of being a mama.  My kids have been “those kids” so many times, because it’s part of being a kid.  Whether it’s a mama or a dad – us parents are far from perfect.  And I don’t ever want to forget it.  Whether it’s a boy or a girl, an only child or a “quiver full” – those kiddos are far from perfect.  And I don’t ever want to forget it. 

Maybe that parent and those kids are everything you assume they may be – maybe they don’t mind that they haven’t showered in a week and wear their pajamas out of the house.  Maybe they do spend their money on habits when it would be more wisely spent on childcare.  Maybe they wouldn’t come close to receiving a “parent-of-the-year” award and possibly not even come close to the running.  Maybe their kids haven’t been taught respect and manners.  But even then, does this give us reason to judge them, dismiss them, to insist they should have never had children?  But we do.  And these are the parents who need us to rise above the most.

Parents of little ones don’t need our judgmental attitudes, our gossiping tongue, or our inconvenienced glares.  They need gentleness, reassurance, a little bit (no, a lot) of encouragement and more than anything, a tangible Jesus.   They need us to be like Him, to reach them in their worst and through the ugly, mess of it all to lend a hand and help a heart.

The next time you see that pajama-mama, give her a smile, lend her a hand, hold a door, return her cart, let her know she’s doing a good job, please find a way to extend grace.  Your choice of grace just may change her day, change her heart, change that families world. 

"Generous hands are blessed hands."  Proverbs 22:9

"Therefore, encourage one another and build each other up."  1 Thessalonians 5:11

Treasure in the Dirty Places

It’s a mama’s worst nightmare – the dirt filled spaces beneath the cupboards, the oven, the fridge, and in the cushions of the couch.  Those places that might label us as less-than, as a failure or a mess.  The spaces that we often forget when we clean house.  The areas that are just too hard to get to.  The places where no one looks, possibly out of respect, but maybe also out of fear of just what may be found!  But we’ve all had at least one time when a visitor was searching for a lost set of keys, or something of the sort, and dared to lift the cushion...and as the cushion lifted, we can remember vividly how our hearts seemed to pause, waiting for the horror to be revealed:  would it simply be a coin they found or would it be a melted chocolate bar or something even worse?!  I bet that no matter what they saw, you probably shared a good laugh and I bet they came over again.  Why? 

Because it’s completely normal.

It’s one of his favorite things to do, he gets the flashlight and searches for anything worth finding.  He laid flat out on the floor and looked under everything intently.  I watched and felt my heart well with joy at his innocence. 

He was treasure hunting.  In the dirty places.

My boy wasn’t searching the toy box we just cleaned up, he was looking in the places I would rather turn a blind eye toward.  He pointed and repeated “ball, ball, mom-mom, ball,” as he excitedly beckoned me to pull it out for him.   I got down on my knees and looked past all the…well…you know, and got the ball for my precious child. 

Oh, how my heart needed the simple words He whispered.  I’ve been in such desperate need of His grace, of His forgiveness and of His love.  Yet I feel so unworthy as the “dirt-filled” places of my heart are revealed as His Holy light shines like a flood-light. I want to take all the times I raise my voice, lose my temper, and fall disturbingly short and brush them somewhere no one else can see.  But there’s almost always the eyes of those I love the most.  Little lives looking for an example to follow and reflecting that which they are given.  There’s a husband who just lavishes love upon this heart who is anything but deserving of it.  I am guilty of being imperfect, of most-often feeling as though I have nothing to offer and fearing that somehow I will let Him down.  I want to hide it, to cover it all and invite Him into a heart that is put-together, that pleases Him with good works and good words and feels like I have something good to offer.

But the Truth is that He wants none of that. 

          He didn’t come for my good works. 

          He didn’t come for the good words I want to speak. 

          He didn’t come for the times I feel good and feel like opening up my heart to Him.   

No, He came for it all. 

Because He alone is good.  It is His strength that is made perfect in my weakness.  It is His mercy that is made new every morning.  It is His grace that is sufficient.  What pleases Him most is when I lay down my life for His sake.  Not when I pick it all up and simply hand Him pieces that, from my earth-bound perspective, may fit sufficiently into His eternal plan.  Somehow I lose sight of the cross and I try to be god of my own life, planning and tidying places that can only be washed by His blood.  Un-necessary striving in a work that's already been completed on the cross.

 It is in the willingly open heart that beauty can be found.  The life that is laid at the foot of the cross to be used by the God who was willing to send His Only Son and pour grace over our aching souls.  Grace that says we are enough, even in the broken and fallen state we are in.  We are good because of His goodness. 

 Just like my boy was seeking through all the dirty, hidden places to find the treasure of a blue ball, our God seeks us.  He looks through all the muck and mire, the places no one else dare to look, the places where shame and guilt dwell.  His light floods it until treasure is found.  He is the One who makes all things new, who relentlessly seeks the lost and finds treasure in the most unexpected places.  He sees our hearts in the condition they are in, honestly, vulnerably and He loves us just the same.   

Because those dirty places?  Those places we think only we keep hidden? 

Well, they are completely normal.

They are part of this fallen world and we all have them.  What matters most is what we choose to do with them.  Will we stay hidden and settle for a life of less-than?  Or will we trust in His goodness and lay it all before Him as a treasure to be found by the Most-High, Holy King?  As His light dispels the darkness of our hearts, we shine for Him.  We no longer hang our heads with veiled faces, hoping no one notices or sees us for who we are.  It is through Him that we are made whole, where our confidence is placed and where we find life to the full.   He comes close to His precious children and He shows us the places that need His touch and that’s where the treasure is found.  It’s where the most brilliant stones lay waiting. 
 

 

“The LORD does not look at the things people look at. 

People look at outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”  1 Samuel 16:7

 

"For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost."  Luke 19:10

“Let your light so shine before men that they may see your moral excellence and your praiseworthy, noble, and good deeds and recognize and honor and praise and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” Matthew 5:16 AMP

I Am Sought After

He comes home to a mama who is worn out from a day of outnumbering.  A mama whose likely not showered, whose hair is all undone and tangled, whose clothes are worn.  A mama whose exhaustion can get the best of her words, whose hunger tends to speak out of turn, whose let her guard down and allowed all the ugly to seep right out of her heart.  But that’s just this mama’s perspective.  Because when you look at it from the view of the man walking through the door – he is coming home to what is his, what is treasured, what matters the most. 

He does it almost every time – seeks after me, like a man of the field whose gaze is held by the amazing creation of his God.  When the door or the curtain closes, he opens them wide, looking for his lover, longing for a moment.  When my heart is troubled and my eyes ready to weep, he simply says it, a few simple words and the flood of it all pours out.  He just looks back at me, compassionately letting the rushing waters pass until the stillness comes and I am me again and I can breathe.  When my thousand words come up short and leave me searching, he whispers one single line that shatters the darkness.  He finds me in a room full and he draws me ever so close, where comfort is found and felt. 

Somehow he looks past all that is distracting in the present places and sees a beauty that is held only for him.  He seeks the treasure that is always changing, because his love for me refuses to change.  As my body stretches and scars and wears, like a seeker, he holds it like something more precious than gold.   Through the mess, he finds a life lived at his side: through the better and through the worse; a life who has held life and who has let go of life – lives we’ve loved, lives we’ve created, life as we have known it time and again.  He finds unpolished nails of the one who is far from polished in any way – but whose hands gently tend to their young, bake his meals, trace the lines of his palms, and knead the aches in his back.  He finds the real me under all the layers of ugly pride and defiance.  And when life throws a wall our way and we hit it straight on, his is the hand whose grasps mine and reaches out to God. 

All this searching for me that he has done relentlessly for the past fourteen years, this pursuit he is on that he will not give up on, it’s done by grace because I don’t deserve it.  I don’t often feel like a treasure worth being uncovered, unearthed.  But it’s how he sees me, the real me and I don't need to deserve it because it's something he chooses to give. 

 

It was all resting right under the surface, but it wasn't yet clear.  I knew God was trying to speak through this man I love so dearly but so many other voices were too loud and I couldn’t hush them.  Then in the darkness of the night, he did it, he spoke it, the river ran and maybe peace could be found. 

Then it came, highlighted in pink, underlined in blue, to get it across and speak it loud, God seeking this unsettled heart:

                “For the Lord delights in you and will claim you as his own.”

                                                                                Isaiah 62:4

My heart breathed deep the sigh of relief, because in the mess of it all, through all the questions and wonderings and wanderings – our God seeks.  He seeks us, delights in us and claims us as his own. 

I read on, because I couldn’t read enough, the words kept coming, the hope kept flooding and then the last verse of 62 stopped me, pounded through my heart, it breathed life into the silence.  The words that whispered louder than everything else, that brought all that I had been seeing into the open and made it clear:

                “They will be called a Holy People, the Redeemed of the LORD;
                                and you will be called Sought After…”

                                                                                Isaiah 62:12

I am Sought After.

Not only by my husband, but by the God of the Universe.  The God who seeks me even more passionately than the fierce passion of my love, my love who loves me straight like a Song of Songs.  The God whose entire love letter to us all is written from Genesis to Revelation, every word breathed upon in love and mercy. 

You are Sought After.

You may not feel like one worthy of a seeker, but you have One and He is relentless in His pursuit.  Yes, relentless in chasing after that heart inside of yourself that feels like it can barely beat one more time.  He sees right past all the things that have messed us up, have undone us thoroughly and He finds a treasure worth finding.  His pursuit is not something we can earn or one that few of us deserve, it is something He longs to freely give to each one willing to be found.

You are worthy of a Seeker. 

Worthy of being discovered and treasured. 

Worthy of being found. 

             

“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost.”

                                                                        Luke 19:10

“…can you imagine the breathtaking recovery life makes, sovereign life, in those who grasp with both hands this wildly extravagant life-gift, this grand setting-everything-right, that the one man Jesus Christ provides?”

                                                                                                 Romans 5:17

I got into the car for a quick trip to the store.  It was a rare occasion when I could be found by myself and just like the man who, when I’m alone, finds me to capture a moment, there He was.  His voice whispering and being heard.  His words singing the anthem of where my heart rests:

              “I believe everything that You say You are

                I believe and I have seen Your unchanging heart
                In the good things and in the hardest part

                              I believe and I will follow You
                              I believe and I will follow You.”

                                                                                   "I Will Follow" by Jon Guerra

Breathe in, be still and let yourself be found
             by the One Savior who bears the scars of death overcome to bring you life,
             by the One Faithful Father who holds you as the apple of His eye,
             by the One Mighty King who is sovereign and claims you as His own, 

You are Sought After. 



Listen to "I Will Follow You" here