When God Goes Home

I climb out of the car after driving home from a week away. It's hard to be so close, yet so far.

The evening settles in. I am home. And I couldn't be happier.

We talk and we laugh and we share. 

We are family. 

Yet my mind begins to wander. 

I picture God in an empty heaven. 

(One person can make a place empty, you know.)

His Son has been thirty-three years away from home.
(I hope I never have to experience that.) 

Yet when Christ ascends and steps through that portal, excitement rebounds off of every galaxy, every constellation. 

He is home. 

But He wants me to experience His home too. For me to call it my own.
Because when God goes home, He says He cannot be completely content until I'm there too.

He watches me down here. 

I'm so close, yet so far. His heart yearns. 

And I ask myself, How earnestly do I long for that home?

To Be the Revolution…

I lie on my bed, tears trickling down my cheeks, my mind reeling with questions. I feel so ashamed. Ashamed of every fiber of my existence, of what I claim to own. 

I cry. I pray. I ponder. My life, my actions must be in harmony… And I'm finding they don’t go deep enough… I feel ashamed and rightly so. 

Have I been living a lie all this time? 

My flesh denies the thought. Yet I believe it to be partially accurate, for if I was truly living, breathing, absorbing the words I speak, my life would be reflecting Christ more fully than it is today. I need a reset, a hard reset. And that, by God’s grace, I’m going to have. 

Away with a life of mediocrity. In with a life of revolution.

These are the things I want. These are the things I need. These are the things I crave. 

To be the revolution I want to see.

The Potter's Hands {Beautiful Vessel - Part I}

{Jeremiah 18}

Hands caked with evidences of pottery sculpting. Clay lining all the creases. 

Gentle fingers guiding a softened adobe-colored lump. 

His brow slightly furrowed in concentration. Eyes intent on the subject of expertise. 

Deft hands working for the perfect outcome.

A sigh escapes pursed lips. Defect detected. 

Doubtless it wasn’t the Potter’s fault. He is the Master.

No… the clay itself is flawed. Its original composition is altered. 

Carefully the Potter removes the deformed lump from the wheel and with His hands remedies the formula and places the reshaped clay again upon the wheel. Silence induced by concentration again ensues.

Finally, after hours of perfecting, a beautiful vessel begins to take shape. Perfect in symmetry, exquisite in appearance, practical in service and sturdy in character, this vessel is no ordinary work of art. Into each creation He pours equal effort, nevertheless they are all unique, individual and stunning in composition.

I may attempt to make myself beautiful, yet without the correct formula, I can never succeed. 

Only when I am pliable in the Potter’s hands, can any true beauty emerge.

And who would desire to be in another’s hands? His are the gentlest earth has ever known.

They are the Potter’s hands…

No More Tears

It's not easy to say goodbye and leave familiar faces, places, and memories behind. And there is valid cause for tears… Because we were not created to ever say goodbye. Earth was created to be a haven of companionship, friendship, togetherness…

Yet I cannot, will not, allow my tears to obliterate the signs of His love…
It's everywhere.

In countless boxes stacked inside a quickly-emptying basement and spread outside on the grass.
In many willing hands and hearts.
In meals generously prepared by loving hands.

In the laughter with a precious little friend I love dearly.
In a heart to heart talk with my friend of 12 years around the subdivision block one last time.
In joint tears while embracing my adopted little "sister."

 

In a big yellow truck branded, Penske.
In many passing miles, slowly carrying me away from one of the only homes I've known.
In phone calls and chats with friends.

In quiet silence driving a loaded van and trailer behind the truck.
In sunlight streaming through the hotel window.
In a song reminding me to Be Still…

His love is impossible for me to ignore. I see the fingerprints of His infinite care for me everywhere I look. And this reassurance encourages me to never stop trusting, never stop singing…

I miss you my friends… And although I definitely hope to see each of you again still on earth, my greatest desire is to be reunited forever in the heavenly courts above.

"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away." {Revelation 21:4}

No more parting. No more tears.

Oh I long for that place…