Thursday, August 26, 2010

Belong

If I find in myself / desires nothing in this world can satisfy / I can only conclude / that I, I was not made for here / If the flesh that I fight is at best /only light and momentary, / then of course I'll feel nude / when to where I'm destined I'm compared. ~C.S. Lewis Song (Brooke Fraser)

Every one of us wants to belong...

...wants to have a place to set down our baggage and hang up our hearts on the coat rack.

It's more than just finding a comfy apartment or a suitable house to accommodate our current needs.

It's about opening the door, stepping inside, and realizing that this is where we fit...that we have finally found the place we have been searching for our entire lives.

And for so many of us, this place will never be found here on earth.

Of course, there are those earthly places that call out to us and catch us by surprise. They are as close as anything on earth could possibly come to filling that overwhelming void.

These places have something so intrinsic about them...some small detail that captivates us, or a memory that brings us back to feelings of acceptance, perfection, warmth...

...but even these places of sheer delight -- as wonderful as they are -- cannot fully meet the needs of our hearts.

There is something missing...some sort of minute imperfection that reminds us once again of this moral coil upon which we dwell.

It's not until we stop looking down and raise our eyes heavenward that we discover what it is that we've been looking for all along.

We cannot just stand on this side of the wardrobe door, allowing ourselves to settle for this second-best reality. We need to reach out, close our eyes, and remind ourselves that something so much greater...something inexpressible...awaits us on the other side of the door.

One day, these shadows will fall away in a beam of the ultimate Light.

We will no longer have to search for where we belong...the aching feeling will disappear.

We will enter.

Further up and further in...

...with Him is where we belong.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Witness

We need a witness to our lives...in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything..you're saying 'your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go unwitnessed because I will be your witness'. ~Shall We Dance

People ask me all the time: "So, how's married life?"

This question is one of the most impossible quandaries to answer. Because, honestly, the truth is not what people are looking for when it comes to this question's complicated answer.

They want you to tell them that everything is wonderful, and has been nothing but roses and sunshine since the day you said "I do."

If I told you that, I'd be lying.

Marriage has been one of the hardest things I have ever undertaken. In fact, until a couple of days ago, I don't think I've even fully understood this cacophonous symphony we call "matrimony."

I think God decided that it was time that I had my eyes opened...and everything that I thought I knew about marriage changed dramatically right before my eyes. In the long run, it wasn't even that big of an issue; important, but not life-or-death.

It was last night when I finally realized that I had been going about my marriage all wrong. I had been looking to my husband to fill my heart up and meet my needs without fail...and in the process, Jon's heart had been forgotten.

For the past couple months, God had been trying to turn my eyes away from myself and back onto my husband's aching heart. However, I had been so lost in my own selfish, myopic world that it took something frightening to snap me back into focus.

In a way, I am Jon's only earthly witness to this life we share together.

I am his partner and his other half.

God created me to be Jon's helpmate, his bride, and his companion from the moment we said "I do" until one of us passes from earth to eternity.

I will be his witness...

...hand in hand, from this day forward.

Marriage isn't perfect, to be sure. There will be bumps, heartache, and loss. It takes sacrifice, selflessness, and unconditional love.

It's hard...

...but there will also be love, life, surrender, joy, and precious moments.

It's worth everything.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

New

When the years are showing on my face / And my strongest days are gone / When my heart and flesh depart this place / From a life that sung Your song / You'll still be the one I want. ~Brooke Fraser, Arithmetic

I spent a portion of this morning wrapped up in the Word of God -- the book of Revelation, to be precise. And I have to say, it was the most precious part of my day thus far.

As my eyes traced over the pages, eagerly soaking in each verse, the truth of what I was reading washed over me in an overwhelming way. Tears flooded my eyes as the reality and the longing swept through my heart like a beautiful flood.

And I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse, and He who sat on it is called Faithful and True...and I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God...He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” (Revelation 19:11, 21:3, 5)

It was as if I had been dwelling in the desert for months without a drop of water. The struggles and pain that have marred my life over the past several months had drained me dry. Somehow, I had become lost without even fully realizing...

...and then my amazing and powerful God opened up a well of the purest water directly beneath me.

His voice whispered in my ear, "See, Beloved! I am Faithful and True, and I am here, making you new!"

It was in that moment that I finally found myself realizing...discovering...breathing again.

He is Faithful. He is True. And He is making us new...

...new again in the fullness of His glory and His might! He is captivating me once again, reminding me that His ways are not the same as my ways, and that His heart is for me.

He is new every morning. His mercy comes with the dawn...

...and He holds me spellbound.



World-Turners

The people who influence us the most are not those who detain us with their continual talk, but those who live their lives like the stars in the sky and “the lilies of the field”— simply and unaffectedly. Those are the lives that mold and shape us. ~Oswald Chambers


This is for the ones who live...
...who stand up when the world is sitting down...
...who fight when everyone else has fled the battlefield.

I wish you knew exactly how you
Inspire me.

I wish I had the right words to convey
How much you
Amaze me.

Maybe it's the way you stand alone,
Moving the crowd
Instead of them moving you.

Maybe it's the way you love from day to day.
From the simple word
To the more precious gesture.
You live the love.

You inspire me to push upward.
Onward.
Heavenward.

You're more than just my friends...
...more than just my family...
...you're my heroes.

You're my favorite kind of inspiration.

Because you don't just talk.

You live.


Thursday, August 12, 2010

Unique

While we have the gift of life, it seems to me the only tragedy is to allow part of us to die - whether it is our spirit, our creativity or our glorious uniqueness. ~Gilda Radner

It's a strange puzzle, this idea of uniqueness.

It's one of those things that is so innocently simple while still being overwhelmingly complicated.

In fact, I think that sometimes people strive so hard for a certain grasp of their own intrinsic details that they loose their originality all together.

The idea of uniqueness is the epitome of Lewis' White Stag, leaping its delicate way through the forests of Narnia...it can only found by mistake. When chased, it darts deeper and deeper into the woods, eventually leaving its pursuer even more lost than when this strange crusade first began.

It takes that moment of patience...of standing still in the silence and waiting...for the illusive creature of uniqueness to captured and taken in fully.

So what is uniqueness, really?

It is that person you see in the mirror each morning. Every last inch of you is unique, even if you have no desire to be thus set apart.

How boring of a world would this be if we all were alike...if there was no controversy over movies or music, and if we all saw the same things in an abstract painting. In fact, there would be no such things as artistic interpretation, theater, or painting, for there would be no need of them. We would simply become bored with these familiar sketches of ourselves and slip into a state of colorless uniformity.


There is something so sweet, so delightful about the accidental discovery of your own personal style...your tastes...your loves....those things that catch your eye and make you stop and look for just one moment more.

And even more so, there is a pure jubilation that comes upon the discovery that each one of us are created as unique, glorious beings...showered in the delight and love of our adoring Creator as He gazes upon our beautifully artistic hearts and differently-tuned minds.

We are His symphony, each one a different instrument...

...a symphony of uniqueness.

So release the search for your own unique placement in this world...

...just wait, and it will find you.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Handwritten


A person who can write a long letter with ease cannot write ill. ~Jane Austen

The art of the handwritten letter is in danger of extinction.

With the advances of technology moving forward the way they have been, the very existence of pen and paper is slowly fading into oblivion.

Text messages. Cell phones. Facebook. Computers.

What need do we have for paper and pencil? For stamps and envelopes? Journals? Notebooks?

It's disappearing.

Computers contract viruses and crash; cell phone towers get knocked out in bad weather. When a file is deleted or erased, it's gone forever.

In a way, we're loosing a legacy. There's no sentimental delight in finding an old hard drive.

We're surrendering so much; it's tragic.

We're giving up that excitement of opening up an old jewelry box and finding a forgotten love note...a "thinking-of-you" note from Mom the day we started High School... a scrap of pencil-decorated paper slipped into a lint-filled pocked by a friend.

There's a fine art to be found in picking up a pen and letting all your thoughts flow out in ink onto a blank paper canvas. There's no spell-checker, no automatic grammatical correcter, and no backspace key.

It's 100% genuine.

You can't hide behind the impersonality of the internet or the disconnect of a text message.

It's a form of reality. It's a way of letting go of our pent-up emotions and letting them just pour out in a way that a keyboard just can't convey.

It seems almost criminal to let go of something so wonderful, so old-fashioned and so fresh at the same time.

Maybe it's just the romantic artist in me, but I can't imagine living in a world where the delight of handwriting is forgotten.

So write a letter...fall into a flashback...

...don't let the ink dry.