and you thought nomads didn’t have homes. March 30, 2010

it’s been a rough one.  but.  what a sweet drink of His mercy and grace tonight.

what a sweet blessing to live with this family.

i got a rough phone call tonight.  everything is fine, but is was rough.  wading through miscommunication and misunderstanding usually is, especially when you realize that because of it you have caused the grief of someone else.  immediately when i got off the phone i started balling.  for a moment there was complete misery.  an old companion that used to hang his cloak around my heart with seeming permanence.  through my tears i thought i was being quiet… but apparently not quiet enough.  do you know what happened next?

not thirty seconds later there was a light knock on my door.  i caught my breath long enough in between sobs to let out a barely-squeaked “yeah?” and suddenly s. and s. were standing in my open doorway.  for a moment the old feelings of shame and embarrassment at my tears came surging forth but they were soon replaced as i slowly realized that instead of pretending like they didn’t hear me, or asking me why i was being “so stupid and emotional,” or calling me degrading names, or waiting for me to come to them, s. and s. had moved toward me in my grief.  what a grace of the Lord.

tonight they spoke constancy into my gaping heart.  i have recognized over these sweet and challenging three months that often the hurts that come up now have some portion of a root in the hurts of my past.  tonight was not an exception.  one of the many things that the Lord used s. and s. to teach me tonight?  as long as the Lord is on His throne (always), there will never really be a true crisis or emergency (never).

and in the face of the fear that crept in–in the face of worrying about financial provision and where i could go or what i could do–they spoke solid words that came crashing into my heart and took root and sprung up in my soul like mighty redwoods.  sprung up because their gardener is the Lord God Almighty.  “sister, whatever happens, you have a home and you have a family.”

and the even better news?  even if i didn’t have a home or a family, I would still belong to Jesus.

sometimes there are tears. February 16, 2010

during the two years preceding the day Christ came into my life, i did not shed a tear.  there were none left.  the hardness of my heart and the withering drought that was hopelessness had ravaged my soul and left it battered and broken in the back alleys of despair, numbness, and rage.

but suddenly, one night, there was Christ.  suddenly, one night, the Spirit “shook my dozing soul and threw the cold water of reality in my face, so that life and God and heaven and hell broke into my world with glory and horror” (piper in don’t waste your life).  it was as if the very seams of my heart were split open with all the violence and fury of the most caged of animals suddenly set free that Christ might enter in.  i knew at heart before i knew intellectually that i had been made a new creature.  i walked out of that meeting that night feeling as if i’d never walked before… breathing as if i’d never known breath… i felt as if life was even spilling forth from my fingertips.

there was no more despair.  no more numbness.  no more rage.  it was something i’d never known before… joy.  freedom.  and there were tears.  lots of tears.  tears of grief.  tears of joy.  tears of relief.  tears of gratitude.

these days tears are my sweet friends.  what a gift.  what a gift to live with this family seeking to see Christ glorified and deeply treasured in their lives.  and then the tears come.  and they are sweet.  and i am thankful.

because the King of Glory loves me.