breaks...

It feels odd to be showing up here.  I've been writing so much on my year prayer challenge that it almost feels redundant or excessive to be over here. But I'm here.  And these words they're not fully formed, and I'm not really sure of my own conclusions.

But I'm here to write. I'm here to work it out.

Recently I've become an avid player of "four pictures one word".  I'm not sure if any of you play it?  But its like this game was made for my brain.  I track it.  I get it. 
Not too long ago, the word was "break" and the four pictures were seemingly, completely unconnected.  And it got my engine of a brain started thinking about the word "break" and the seemingly paradoxical meanings of it. 

On the one hand its a word of destruction.  Something beautiful and fragile becoming irreparably destroyed.  If you need a break from something it generally implies you've become frustrated or irritated to the point where you need space from the task or person. Breaks can be temporary of long term.

On the other hand its a word of relief.  We have spring break, reading break, Christmas break, summer break, all refreshing moments of freedom and relief from our routine.  At work you get a break, a small portion of time to do with as you please, put your feet up, have a snack.  And if we didn't have breaks in cars...we'll let's just say it wouldn't be the best.

 Where's the common ground? And what does it all mean?

And I can't help but think about kitkat bars..."break me off a piece of that..."
And I realize that when you share your chocolate it costs you something, something of value, something you want, something you enjoy, but it offers a gift, a refreshment to another, relief from their hunger. Sacrifice for the one and abundance for the other.  And maybe the meanings meet in the middle of a kitkat bar, or maybe they don't.  But what I do know is that breaks are important and necessary, whether chosen or not. They help to us refocus, to regain our energy, to brainstorm more creatively, to sleep so that we can get back in the game with new wisdom, energy, purpose and strength.

I'll turn heartbreak valley into Acres of Hope

So today, today was suppose to just be a nice day shopping in the sun with a good friend.  And then, then we make that stop for coffee...something wonderful, like a Mocha with lots of whip cream. And there on the TV screen is breaking news of bombs at the Boston marathon.  And my heart begins to break, and the tears begin to pool.  And I start to wonder where the good is on this earth.  The sunny sky gets overtaken by a rainstorm, echoing my insides. And it feels so fitting that the water would fall from the sky because tears need to be shed for the tragedy of today.

And its June 1985 and my mama, she writes about how there were bombs on planes and hostages in Lebanon.  And I think about how this world really hasn't changed that much.  And that wonderful mother of mine, she wrote her prayer for me that day: "I pray that you will still find and see the beauty in your world".  Those words echoed loud in my mind. And so I bought cupcakes.  The wonderful fancy kind, from a cupcake shop, because there is still beauty on this earth and there is still hope.  Because God, he can just turn heartbreak valley into acres of hope. 

oh this wonderful time after Easter

Oh this first week after Easter.  Lent went by more smoothly than most.  And then came this wonderful time after Easter.  Maybe I had too high of expectations for what to expect in the new resurrected life? Or maybe this is how it is every year I just haven`t paid as much attention to the seasons of my soul.  But this transition.  This transition from cocoon to butterfly...not so easy.  There are moments of extreme beauty and freedom mingled right in there with moments of feeling more inadequate than I`ve felt in years.

I find myself reverting back to thought patterns from before lent.  But wasn`t lent suppose to be 40 days of making a new habit?  40 days of making more room for Christ so that he can live louder in my life?

And yet, things did change. And probably a lot more than I`m aware. 

I`m looking at my trees this morning and I notice how much change has taken place in such a short amount of time. Even the grass seems to be getting out of control. And I reflect on God`s wonder growing recipe to make things grow fast: lots of rain, lots of sun, some more rain, some more sun, then more rain...and I`m assuming there will be more sun.  And I think about the parallels for my soul, and I am more at ease with His process in me. And I remind myself if he is this faithful with trees, how faithful will he be with my soul?

So I eat more, and sleep more; like a new baby on a steep learning curve.  And I rest in the new growth and I adjust my life, and allow myself the to ride out the swells and calm of this life because his steadfast love is written everywhere.

Pick up your mat and walk

So the sun keeps on shinning and I can't even believe its radiance.  The warmth encircling and beckoning, inviting us into its healing presence.  And I feel warmed all over, even in the deepest parts of me. 

And the Holy week is here.  That hallowed week.  And the 40 days, the days that at first seemed like an eternity, are coming to their close.  And part of me is so ready to burst into the new life, to let Christ be risen in my life in places where I've never let him live, and the other part of me clings to the safety of this cocoon, to the safety of this exile.

As I sit in my chair, with my candles lit, drinking my coffee and soaking up the warm, life-giving rays, I hear the phrase: "pick up your mat and walk". And it echos over and over in the caves of my heart.

And I think about how sometimes we prefer the comfort and the known of being wounded.  How we get our identity from our pain and so when Christ comes and invites us to "get up and walk", we get scared, we become afraid. We become afraid because everything is about to change.  And the unknown, no matter how wonderful, feels scary because we seem to lose a sense of our barrings a sense of ourselves. 

"I must become less, and Christ must become greater".

And so we enter our own kind of deaths, we let go of the control.  We die to self so that Christ can live more. And then, then we pick up or mat and we walk.  And we walk even when we don't know the way, because he does.  The one who walked into the pit of hell, who stared death right in the eyes and said "enough". "enough death, you don't have the victory here". And he marched right back to this messy broken earth, to this land of the living, where he breathed his life all over us.

And so when the one you are walking with has done all that, you really don't have anything to fear besides him. 

So today, I pick up my mat and I take his hand, which is outstretched to me, and I walk.  I walk with him, knowing that when he calls me out of death and into life, into healing, into freedom, I can go with boldness and confidence. 

Take his hand, you won't be disappointed.

Because it's that day...

Because it's that day.  The day you wake up for the third time in a row from bad dreams.  The day when every other woman you see looks effortlessly more beautiful than you on the inside and out.  The day when your soul is weary all the way straight down to the bones.  The day you woke up at 4:02am and breathed in the equinox because transformation and rebirth are on their way.  And you wake up and it feels like fall outside...but it's the first day of spring.  And that's how my soul feels. 

And then quietly His voice speaks.  And it's not in the rain or the wind or a profound moment.  But that quiet moment at work in the midst of it all.

And I hear Christ say:

"Today is not just another day to get through.  Today is a day to unfold.  To unpack. To relish in.  To delight in. Today is a day to walk in deeper healing, in newness, in life.  So be on the lookout for My workings and get on board.  All is grace.  All is above and beyond.  Don't let your mind be bogged down on worries.  Step out of that.  Step out of that and into me.  Let me take you deeper.  Let me unfold you.  Let me heal you, make you new.  And I haven't forgotten about you.  I hear you.  I see you.  Rest your heart in me and you will know no fear.  You will only know light, love, life and truth.  Fall back into me for I am more than enough.  And today, today little one, is not just another day to get through.  Today is a gift.  Open it!"

"When it comes to quality, we dig deep"

Oh, have I been meaning to get here!  The house is a mess, the dishes pile higher and higher, the only moment to finish laundry was around 1:30am, my bed hasn't been made in days. And I beg the world to slow down, and it only seems to speed up, and it kind of literally did when we lost that hour. 

But this week, this week we're going to slow it down a little, we're gonna live a little more outside of time, live a little more in the moments and less bound by the ticking of the clock.

March is a pretty big month for me.  Two extremely significant things occur.  One: Lent, Palm Sunday, Easter.  In some ways it almost feels bigger to me than Christmas.  We spend more time getting ready, making room in our hearts, giving things up to enter into Christ's sufferings, preparing our hearts to be warmed by the amazing love and unfailing grace.  Two: my birthday falls the day before Palm Sunday.  As a highly reflective and contemplative person this makes for an extremely intense month of self evaluation and expectation. I reflect over the past year and prepare for the next year of life. Let's just say its a LOT! and leave it at that. 

I appreciate symbols, art, and stories because they seem to be able to communicate abstract concepts that our minds are conscious of but have difficulty grasping. 

At various times in my life I've felt like a building.  Not very far from my house is an active construction site.  Almost daily I pass by and observe and reflect on the parallels to my own life.  I'm coming through a long season of demolition, of reworking thought patterns learned since childhood.  With a highly analytical and critical brain I often feel like I never make it passed the tearing down and demolition phase.  But I feel like I'm finally emerging from a major one: "saying NO to abandonment, and being a victim of it." And as I watch this construction site I'm struck by several things:
(1) There is a sign with the construction company's slogan plastered on it: "When it comes to quality, we dig deep". Over the last few months I have taken hope in this phrase as if an affirmation from Christ himself.
(2) After you destroy everything you dig a really, really big hole.  You dig down before you can dig up.  Ironically, I recently read a devotional about this very truth in Thoughts that Make Your heart sing by Salley Lloyd-Jones (the lady who wrote the Jesus Story Book Bible). 
(3) Before you can pour the concrete you put what appear to be, molds in place, the temporary before the solid.  Its a process. A long one at that. 
(4) And after this long and not very visually exciting process of digging a large hole and a foundation that no one really sees, but changes everything, and is either going to make or break the entire structure, the walls go up. All of a sudden.  Just like that. It starts taking shape. In an instant.

And the lumber smells so fresh, like life, like growth, like hope, like newness. And it will be a while before this building is complete.  But the change, the transformation is amazing and only now am I beginning to see it.  And as I sift through the past few years, I can't believe the changes that have been made in my own life, the growth, the demolition, the digging of a very deep hole, the warmth of my cocoon. And I can't believe we're here all of a sudden. So I'm begging time to slow down, so that I can relish my last few weeks in my warm cocoon before the next phase of transformation.  And all I can do is give thanks and say that God has been very faithful to me, and that I know He will continue to be.

You Amaze me

Because today was filled with everything wonderful: coffee, friends, art, laughter, books. And because God's presence and love is so out of my control. And I love it even though it freaks me out!  So here is a poem because I can feel Christ skipping around on my insides and I just want to shout it from the roof tops...

You amaze me.
You explode my frontal cortex like volcanoes.
Your presence in my life is like a herd of stegosauruses parading through the forest.
Your love and tender care are like moonbeams around the moon.
You amaze me and move me.
I stand in awe of You.
Be holy in my heart.
Be a cut above all else.

Amen