Remnants of a Homeland

"For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a Homeland." Hebrews 11:14

[remnantsofahomeland]

Dive On In

Let me tell you something I realized yesterday. I’d known it before, but yesterday I realized it. It became real to me. If we’ve had a good long heart-to-heart over the last 3 years you’ve probably heard me mention Brother Lawrence and his life in the presence of God. Its beyond a goal of mine, its everything. What is life if I don’t get to do it with Him? But the walking out of this hit me with a really tough reality. To walk a moment or an hour or a day with the Creator of your soul changes your soul. Almost like a chemical reaction, the make up of your soul changes. And all of the sudden, you can’t live the way you did before. “Having devotions” in the morning won’t cut it anymore. When you walk in the garden of your soul with the King who made it, you meet a you that you won’t find anywhere else. A you who is perfectly at rest and peace, who isn’t marred by this world and its “yuckiness”. A you who is really good at being still and being a child on the lap of her Father as He orchestrates and authors beautifully.  But then you leave, and you go on about your merry way, and you realize that “you” didn’t follow. This you who lives squarely in the temporal, what can be seen and touched, is a very broken you. This you is anxious and prone to wander. This you is easily angered and keeps record of wrongs. This isn’t how “sanctification” is supposed to go, is it? (”Sanctification” is a post for another time I’m afraid. Let’s just say that word means something totally different than what I thought it meant when it was worked out in my life.) This middle ground is an excruciatingly painful place. Torn between the spiritual and physical. Knowing who you are in His arms and also the you that is walking this broken earth; who just said hurt a friend in a way of which you never thought you were capable. Ripped in two by your desires: to wake up in the morning and go about your business or to wake up in His realm going about His business with Him. And somehow those desires fit together and are yet completely incompatible.  And on top of that you’re left with an insatiable thirst for the water only He can give. To live and breathe and have your being in Him. And yet there’s dishes to be done and while you're doing them you somehow totally lose sight of Him and “Oh GOD what have I done? How did I miss You when You’ve been here all along?!” You know what I mean? Maybe not. That’s okay. If you have you know the ache. If you haven’t, don't worry, you can still come along. Ted Dekker in his book Black depicts the presence of God like a lake, and it was this imagery that God brought back to mind when He wanted me to finally realize this. This lake was extremely painful to the touch. Yet when you dove in, when you went through the pain and death, the life in the depth of that lake was beauty and peace.  There are 3 options for those of us who want to be near God. We can sit on the beach, sunbathing near His presence without touching it. We can do that horrible, excruciating thing of just dipping our toe in the lake. Or we can dive on in, fully and completely until we are so immersed in it, in Him, that all the pain is healed and all the sorrows cease. Today I skipped the toe-dipping. I skipped the sunbathing I’d been doing to avoid the pain. Today I dove straight on in. And today was beautiful.

[remnantsofahomeland]

Come friend

hello again. Do you know what its like to walk with the Maker of the World? Well let me tell you, He never stops, well.. making. Making things over, making things new. And now I return to tell you about it, and I realize He’s made me new. He’s made me all over again. And slipping back into this blog is like trying to slide into old clothes that could never possibly fit you again. But shoot, let’s give it a try. The thing is, my mind is full, packed to the brim, with things I want to tell you. Things I’ve seen, things He’s shared, things too beautiful to stay locked away.

And I’m no longer afraid.

Its impossibly difficult to express to you the joy that comes with those words. Do you know what its like to feel afraid? Afraid of judgement, afraid of being wrong, afraid of being alone, afraid of being crazy? Hands should be shooting up everywhere because now I know it isn't just me. 

Legalism has had its strong “holy” hands wrapped around my neck, shutting off any fresh air from expanding my lungs, for far far too long. And like Steven being stoned by the “holy” ones, I looked up into the Heavens with the last remaining strength in me, and I saw Him. And I realized what wasn’t Him; these hands around my neck were far from being His. And in my crazed desperation for Him I threw off that grip and ran Home.

I’m no longer under the thumb of legalism. They can no longer tell me what I can and can’t say to you. That’s for Him alone to say. And on my journey Home I looked back to see so many throwing off their own nooses and running with me. Was that you? I’m so happy you’re here. 

Or are you still being choked of the very life they said they’d give you? Come on out, friend. They lied to you. There’s life out here. REAL life. And its the life Jesus came to be able to walk with you. I promise, He wants to walk with you. He’s so beautiful! And the world out here shimmers with His joy. Can you see it? I so want you to see it. If you can’t yet, I hope that’s the journey we can take together. I hope to be able to paint you the pictures I see until you can see them for yourselves and more. Until you can see Him. He’s here. He met us in our world and now He’s calling us Home. Let us throw off the weight of sin and the nooses of legalism so we can run. Let us run as little children into the arms of our Father who is so glad to have us Home. Finally home. 

come, friend, let’s go.

[remnantsofahomeland]

Letter from a Bluebird

"Oh dear one, Beloved of the King, How can you worry? He has taken care of us, The quick blue streak against the autumn orange. He provides safety for my young, For the ones who will flit for a moment, and fade unceremoniously.  If He catches each one as they fall, and lays them gently where they lie, how much more will He catch yours? Oh beloved one of the Most High, can you not see your value? He made us the color of the sky just to see the reflection of delight in your eyes. He made us to dance above the ground only to watch your heart skip a beat. If He made me just to give you a glimpse of His love and yet He clothes me in beauty and grace, will He not provide for all of your needs? How much more will He wrap you in righteousness and let you dance in safety? Oh dear one of the Star-breather, when I lie down in my nest, and pull my young gently under my wings, do you not feel Him do the same for you kept warm under the blanket of twinkling suns?

If He keeps me safe from the serpents, and protects my chicks from the traps they can't see, how much more will He catch the stumbling of your child and keep them from the snares of the enemy? If He finds food for them as they cry and wander about for their hunger, will He not feed your young,  the one who He forms and loves and calls His own. Your Selah, your own, she is beyond loved and beyond safe. She will dwell in light and grace with the One who delights in her soul and smooths the path before her feet.

So, fellow momma, come and rest. Let us soar above these amber leaves and sing at the top of our frail lungs. For our Father loves us so sweetly, and you, even more."

[remnantsofahomeland]

A mom with a heart too big for her frame, but He's working on me.

This morning has been weird. After 5 hours working a wedding yesterday my muscles are reminding me that they are busy carrying a baby and don't have time for these shenanigans. My shoulder aches from what I can only imagine was holding the surprisingly heavy camera. My hips complain when I sit and when I stand, and when I do anything else in-between. My chest has a hard time taking in enough oxygen and mutters, "For goodness sake Woman, would you stop sitting cross-legged. Baby doesn't like it very much." Baby. Our baby. The baby that is approximately 3 and a half inches long and weighs something around 1.5 ounces. The baby that I have no control over, the one I could still lose any day although the statistics lean somewhat in my favor. Weird…. Back to the story of this morning.  As my pregnant body bids me to stay flat under the warm blankets, my mind wanders. Need to find something to think about; something to do.  Pinterest. I'm starting to hate Pinterest. Not because of the great ideas for distressing a paint finish or adorable ideas for the nursery I've been planning in my head…. okay, maybe those ARE parts of the reason I'm hating Pinterest. I'm hating Pinterest because it reminds me of all the things I "should" be doing. Or, because people are pinning pregnant lady check-lists, the things I "should" be worrying about. It tells me the things I should be thinking or complaining about. It tells me how I should be thinking about this baby inside me and how I should work out so that after the baby is born my body doesn't have to look like it has grown, housed, and nurtured a human being. And right now as I remember all the Pinterest offenses, just like when I first experienced them, my heart-rate is rising and tears are filling my eyes and I'm getting angry. Angry? Straight up furious. And then confused why I'm angry, and then angry again. Yep, it'd be a lot easier to chalk this all up to the raging pregnancy hormones, go back to complaining, and find myself back on Pinterest. That's what it feels like the invisible, yet formidable and highly judgmental "they" would tell me to do. But I think it's bigger than that. I think there's more to this to uncover; more of my heart to discover. In this confusing, mind-swirling thought process, I decided to go blog, thinking that typing to the invisible "they" might help me untangle all this mess. I went to thebump.com to start a pregnancy website/blog.. cute and helpful right? Except I stopped before I could start because I had to pick from one of their stupid baby-theme layouts covered in cribs and tiny baseballs and bows and.. gross. (Sorry to offend you if you've picked them… its just a personal thing.) So I moved on to Tumblr to type some thoughts in my old blog I use so rarely that I keep thinking the blog police are going to come and confiscate it. Before I could open a new, blank post, I read through the last one I put up. I posted it in June, almost 4 months ago and pre-pregnancy. So much has changed since then. House stuff hasn't gone anywhere circumstantially and we are coming to terms with the fact that maybe this whole thing was for the process and journey, not the result and destination.  Although the Kyra who typed that seemed to be a million light-years away, the God who inspired it is the God of today… and I could feel it through the warm, healing tears washing away the angry ones that had been on my face moments before. The same God who needed me focusing on Him 4 months ago is the same one who whispers in my ear today, "Peace be with you. MY peace I give you." The same God who comforted the frantic housewife then is the same God who meets my worried glance when I feel a strange pain or a new symptom. He's the same God who sits next to me and tells me He's singing over our baby and placing in their heart dreams of Himself. He's the same God who sits up with my when I can't fall asleep and tells me all His dreams for this child He adores. He's the one who catches my tears and gives them value, telling me its the stretching of my heart to fit twice as much love as ever before. And I guess that leads to why I'm angry. I'm angry because I'm sick of babies being seen as inconveniences and pregnancy seen as misfortunate. I'm sick of pregnant women complaining way more than being thankful for the new life they are blessed with experiencing. I'm sick of children being minimized to nothing more than cartoon covered fabrics and adorable clothes. My baby isn't a baby. He/she is a precious child of the King of Kings whom He saw fit to come and die for. They are beloved and miraculous and He is knitting them together intricately and perfectly. Their heart and value to Him is no less than the value He puts on me. And in the middle of the Pinterest clutter I'm angry because it steals from me the joy, awe and wonder that I'm allowed to have because He has it. Because He is enthralled with His child, I can be. I get to be and that is nothing I should ever let be taken away from me. Out of anyone in this world I get to be this person's biggest fan because He is, and until they are able to hear Him say it, how else will they know?  So Baby, dearest child of mine, the precious one of the One who breathes stars and holds the universe in His hand, I'm sorry I let the world steal my joy. I'm sorry I let them tell me you weren't as miraculous as you are. I'm sorry for every complaint I have made that wasn't followed by a hopeful smile that it just means one day closer to meeting you. And if you go home today, I can't wait to meet you and worship our Daddy together in the throne room, side-by-side as beloved daughters. What a day of rejoicing that will be. When we all see Jesus, we'll sing and shout the victory. - A mom with a heart too big for her frame, but He's working on me.

[remnantsofahomeland]

In the Eye of the Hurricane

The last two weeks have been some of the busiest I have known.

I hate busy.

The to do list stretches a mile long and I "have to get task-focused or else"... And yet in the task-focus-ness, I lose my heart. I lose sight of the Lord, of the one who holds me and holds me together. I miss out on opportunities to see Him, to love Him, and to love the ones He loves. I miss people, I miss joy and peace, I miss Him.

I hate being busy.

Two weeks ago the most daunting things on my list were maintaining a somewhat neat home, encouraging my husband with his homework, and editing the 1900 pictures we took for a wedding out of town.  Then we found a house, and God told us to follow Him step by step down the path. I was scared. I hate busy, and I knew this would be busy. But one step at a time was all He asked. So trusting God, and trusting that Paul was trusting God, we stepped. We saw the house. Then we talked to the mortgage guy. Then we met with our realtor. And now, all of the sudden, I had a week to get the house ready to be put on the market. The attic needed to be finished. Drywall, patch, prime, paint, build new stairs. The carpet needed to be pulled up and replaced. The 400 irises out front needed to be pulled and the area landscaped. The house needed to be in tip-top shape. Organized, cleaned, cleared out, by Wednesday.

It's Tuesday.

But life doesn't stop to get this done. Jobs have to be worked, animals have to be taken care of, rest has to happen... right?

I didn't know I could be this tired. 

Honestly though, it wasn't until Sunday that I knew I was tired. One step at a time was all God asked me to do. One step at a time with my eyes on Him. I got through Sunday smoothly. Then I stopped to take a look around, and I started sinking. Cleaning, organizing, painting, planting, praying and praying more that someone buys our house. I stopped to look and realized I was in a hurricane. I had been dwelling in the eye of it, but with my eyes off Jesus, I was in the thick. Yesterday I was filled to the brim with stress and it kept coming leaking from my eyes. But I can't stop. Work work work.

But then the still soft voice comes.

None of this is worth losing you. Stop. Breathe. I've got you.

And in the stillness I can see the beauty of the moment.

The moment I'm getting ready in the middle of a room filled with boxes and bins. The packing up of the life I had here this last year. And somehow amid the crazy, there is rest.

The moment when I am landscaping long past sunset, on a beautiful summer night to the soundtrack of all my neighbors relaxing on their porches. Their happy conversations reach my ears as they talk across the street to their friends who are also on their own porch. I can imagine their friendly wave as a car honks hello behind me.

The moment we realize that the 90 year old electric line my dad cut was live, and the electricity for the kitchen light. That apart from God, we could have spent Father's Day in the hospital.

That moment when Paul and I fall asleep holding hands because we have been partners together all day in the crazy, and we will continue to be in our dreams.

That moment when the cat meows and begs you to stop and pet him.

That moment when a customer looks up from their busyness to notice I have new glasses.

That moment when I watch all the dirt and grime from the day swirl down the shower drain.

Life is beautiful.

I realized that busy doesn't happen when the chore list expands beyond pen and paper. Busy is a mindset. Busy says "I have to do this, then get this done, then check on this." I have to, I have to, I have to...

Busy is eyes off the Lord. Busy is dwelling with eyes on the wind and waves. Busy is sinking, but it has nothing to do with the circumstance and everything to do with the heart. Do I think taking time off from a packed schedule to place it before the Lord and surrender control of the circumstances is important. YES! Please! But if God has clearly called you to something and has written the schedule of your life and you are walking with Him in the Spirit, a mile long to do list is not the enemy. The enemy is a false feeling that we are in control. That if we get these things marked off the list we will feel better and be happier. That we just have to get through this time and life will be better on the other side. The enemy is taking the circumstance back off the altar and saying "No worries God, I can help, I got this one."

The hardest thing amongst all this crazy hasn't been the to do list by itself, its been the fact that a bunch of brothers and sisters around us are hurting. Many grieve death of a loved one or the death of their own heart. Many struggle through heart-wrenching family circumstances where it feels like the Enemy has the upper hand. Many face the disillusionment of their families, their ministry, their calling, their faith. Life is hard. Life hurts. And as I juggle all my stressors, I long to let them all fall to the ground so I can help carry theirs. But I can't. As much as I have to surrender my stressors to God and let Him carry them, so do they. As much as I have to trust God, and lock my eyes on Him, so do they. As much as I have to dwell with Him in the eye of the hurricane, so do they. All I can do is look at them through Jesus' eyes, pray with His heart for them, and trust that if we both seek Him, we'll find each other there in the eye of the hurricane. We'll sing praise songs to God out of the fullness of joy and peace in our hearts as we see Him clearly as the author and perfecter of our faith. Because of Him, the joy set before us, we can endure whatever cross we have to carry today. Because of Him, we can face tomorrow.

That moment when I am sitting in my trashed house, not stressed out by it like I usually would, crying as I type this blog post with hope in my heart.

Life is busy. Life is hard.

Life is beautiful. 

How?

Because He is. And that's all I need to know.

"You are here. That's all I need to know. And You will keep me safe. And You will keep me close. And rain will make the flowers grow."

[remnantsofahomeland]

Home

"So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord."  [Corinthians 5:6-8}

I am in love with someone who lives far far away.

I never get to see Him, but I feel Him. I feel Him in the gentle brush of the breeze and the soft caress of sunshine on my face. I hear Him in the song of the birds, and in the laughter of a stream. Everything reminds me of Him. I see Him in the sunrise and sunset, I see Him in the rain, I see Him in the flowers He grew out of my yard, and in the loving eyes of a friend.

Every part of me aches to be with Him. For now, I can't, but He doesn't let that stop us from growing closer together. You see, one day He'll come for me and take me to His country. He's already building a home for me there, and when His Father gives the all-clear, I'm out of here. He can't wait for me to come home either, and although neither of us know when, we both know it's soon.

Soon.

Soon.

That word echoes through my body and rattles my frame. To say "I can't wait" feels trite, but I don't know a better phrase right now. All I know is that, even when my life is great here, I want to be with Him. In fact, sometimes when things are great I want it more because 1, I never want to feel at home when I'm away from Him and 2, if things can be so great apart from His physical presence, how much more beautiful will they be when I'm there?

*sigh*

Although I know all of this in my head, that we have to be apart for now, that He is coming for me soon, that He is here with me now even though I can't see Him... although I know this there are days when even this cannot dull the ache, and all I can do is sit and rest and let myself feel His arms around me. I will never be home here, but while I'm here, its amazing how He can make it feel even that much better.

He is incredibly beautiful.

[remnantsofahomeland]

Oh give me mercy for my dreams 'Cause every confrontation seems to tell me What it really means To be this lonely sailor And when the sky begins to clear The sun it melts away my fear And I cry a silent weary tear For those who mean to love me... The distance it is no real friend And time will take its time And you will find that in the end It brings you me This lonely sailor And when You take me by the hand And You love me, Lord, You love me And I should have realized I had no reasons to be frightened Oh I am ready for the storm

Rich Mullins "Ready for the Storm"

[remnantsofahomeland]

I can't comprehend Your infinitely beautiful and perfect love Oh I've dreamed dreams of majesty as brilliant as a billion stars But they're never bright enough after all You are Holy Oh Holy Holy, Holy, Holy I will sing a song for You my God with everything I have in me But it's never loud enough after all You are Holy Oh Holy Holy, Holy, Holy Heaven and earth are full, full of Your glory, glory My soul it overflows full of Your glory, Your glory Oh blessed is He who reigns, full of Your glory, Your glory My cup, it can't contain all of Your glory, Your glory Hosanna we are found after all You are Holy Oh Holy Holy, Holy, Holy I can't comprehend Your infinitely beautiful...

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Strong ocean waves break against white sandy beaches far below the steep cliff on which you lay. Jesus is there too. The sun has just risen, and as you look out to the ocean stretching far into the distance, you see a strange rippling. As the waves break along the shore, people run out of the waves, headed straight for the kingdom down the beach. Nothing can stop them. Running fast and free in beautiful determination. Running as one. Running with purpose. Running to Him. As you watch them run towards the distant castle, your heart swells. These are God's dear ones. These are His people and they are running home. You start to sing out to Jesus in praise, but your words stop short in your throat. Your song could never possibly be loud enough to praise Him for this glorious sight. One voice alone is nothing to match His glory. You would need--Your eyes turn towards the city. The words "You are-" croak out of your mouth and, as if on cue, voices from the city rise up to finish the line, "Holy." Like an army of voices, the praise of the many has so much strength. The sound of it sends a chill down your spine, and your heart feels as though it may burst. With your eyes alight and tears welling up, it only takes one look at Jesus and you know what you have to do. In one motion you're both up, running fast along the edge of the cliff that hangs over the shore. Still, without relenting, the waves pound on the sand below and a never-ending stream of people run towards the fortress. As you and Jesus reach the city, you can see that the people have gathered in the streets, lining it as they dance and sing and leap for Joy. At the sight of Jesus, they can't help but catch their breath, the light in their eyes making everything glow. As one, you and Jesus look up the street towards the building at the end, high up in the city. The palace, the temple, the throne room of the Father. His children have come home. In unison, in a solemn step, you and Jesus start the climb, and it is no time at all until the rest have joined in beside and behind you. On all sides they are pressing in and their songs have begun again. "Hosanna we are found after all!" As their crescendo builds, your steps turn to a fast walk, then a run, then a sprint just like the one you saw in the people on the shore. The run that only comes from the anticipation of all being made right. The eagerness that what you have waited for this whole time is just up the street, just behind those doors. As they fly open, the songs silence themselves as you skid to a stop in the sight of His majesty. A faint whisper escapes your lips: "I can't comprehend Your infinitely beautiful..." and at that moment the Father looks up with the biggest grin on His face and all His mighty love welling up in His eyes.

Soon.

[remnantsofahomeland]

"Behold, I am doing a new thing.."

"...Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" [Isaiah 43:19]

For years I have told myself I would never blog. Too much focus on me.  I don't want any focus on me.

I laugh now. Its funny because I am starting this blog for the same reason I have avoided it. I don't want any focus on me.

If I had something good to say or share, If I, of my own doing, was a good author, If I had original thoughts unknown to mankind, and a sliver of wisdom to bestow Maybe this could be about me.

But I don't.

Believe me when I tell you,  ("you" being an imaginary audience, or so I will tell myself) Anything and everything that is good in me is Jesus.

If I told you how many times I have started this post  and immediately cancelled it you would laugh at me. Why? Why is this so hard for me? Good question..... Maybe its because I have shut my mouth hard over the last years. I have bitten my tongue, bated my breath, Done anything and everything I could to keep silent. Why?

Because no one would listen, And those who would wouldn't hear.

"They have eyes to see but do not see, and ears to hear but do not hear..." [Ezekiel 12:2]

They may listen (or read, in this case) but they would not understand. That is, except a few.

A few would listen. A few would hear. A few would understand.

Today I do this for the few.

Again, not because I have anything good to say, But because maybe you're out there afraid to open your mouth as well Maybe you have shut up your heart to keep safe the treasures inside. But, oh, the treasures inside to not keep well locked up. 

No, the treasures of God are rushing water And if kept up and locked away the pressure builds Little by little every day, until they burst out of every pore and tear duct

My heart is bursting. I cannot keep silent.

"If I say 'I will not mention Him, Or speak any more in His name,' There is in my heart as it were a burning fire Shut up in my bones, And I am weary with holding it in, And I cannot." [Jeremiah20:9] Maybe there are some of you out there who feel like I do sometimes, No, I know there are. You feel alone in your relationship with God, That even your closest friends and family, The ones who claim the same faith as you, Would not come close to comprehending the height, width, and depth of the love of God as He has revealed it to you.

Maybe He has set on your heart a burden so heavy You fear you may break. A love so deep for His people that your heart is ripping at the seams. Maybe none of this is true for you, But with all your being you want it to be.

Then God is having me do this for you.

If there is anything on this blog that impacts you, know that it is not me. It is the King on His throne who desperately longs for you to know His intimate presence. It is the Groom, the Head of the Body of Christ, who desperately wants you to know You are not alone. It is the Father, the good and perfect giver, who desperately hopes that you come home. And once you turn down that road, He will run to meet you.

He is not in the strong wind, Nor in the earthquake, Nor in the fire. He is in the low, quiet whisper. [see 1 Kings 19:11-12]

And that whisper is saying there is a remnant; A group of people who have not bowed down to idols of self, Whose mouths have not kissed them.

There is a remnant, a people devoted to Jesus, for Jesus alone. Not for His gifts or rules, Not to abuse His grace or His commands, But to know Him, to love Him.

There is no greater calling that to the Lord; to be with Him: To know and be known To see and be seen.

We are to be a people slowly disappearing into His beauty, decreasing as He increases, becoming one with Him in His death, and thus being united with Him in His life.

And this, Lord leading and inspiring, authoring and perfecting, is my journey to that end.

The end of me is just the beginning of Him.

[remnantsofahomeland]

Perspective.