We’re gonna need band-aids

You’ve heard about the sick man, right? The one who was carried a long distance by his friends? I’ve heard about it before. But never like I did on Saturday night.

Ron Swanson spoke about seeking Christ until the VERY LAST MOMENT. It wasn’t just about seeking Jesus. This story is about men who sought Jesus on behalf of their friend. The sick man was confined to his bed and unable to carry himself the distance to where Jesus was. So his friends did it for him.

But when they got there, the house was too crowded and they couldn’t get inside to Jesus.  They had done all they could do. They were out of options, right?

Wrong. They climbed on the roof and started tearing it apart.

They just carried their friend- they’re not going to lug around tools also. Nope. They did it with their hands. I imagine this small group of men kneeling on the roof digging and pulling until their hands bled.

And they just kept going.

Did you ever realize that this was someone else’s house? If I was one of the those men, I would have been the protestor. No. We cannot tear apart the roof because it’s not our house. Even if Jesus is inside. We’ve got to follow the rules.

On they went until the hole was wide enough for their sick friend to fit through. I imagine them peeking through the hole first and seeing Jesus looking back,with bits of sheet rock on his shoulders and face. Even though they didn’t have sheet rock back then.

Then they lowered their friend down at the feet of Jesus. Can’t you hear the protests? The religious leaders yelling about how they about how they made a mess? About how they ruined the service? Oh friends… you know exactly what I’m talking about.

And then… Jesus says, “Your sins are forgiven.”

I’m sure that’s the last thing the sick man wanted to hear. He was so sick he had to be carried in his bed, and yet Jesus doesn’t even address that. But that’s what Jesus does. He cares about all of me. About all of my sick friend. The body and the heart too. And the heart’s more important because …

All of us.

…if your foundation is Jesus nothing can ruin you.

And then Jesus finishes with, “Take up your mat and walk.”

When all was lost, they climbed on the roof. When they didn’t have tools, they used their hands. When people were angry and called them crazy, they lowered their friend to the feet of Jesus.

And… I cannot help but think of my family. My mom, dad, and sisters. It is not over yet. It is not finished. We’re standing outside the crowded house, and it seems like there is nothing left to do. Nowhere else to go.

I think she's glowing...

Will you climb on the roof with me?

Mutual case of poison ivy

Have you heard about the “7 year itch?”  It’s some rule in the married world- at seven years you’re both supposed to get “itchy.” Nick and I are coming up on the horizon of our seventh anniversary.

But we’re okay. More than okay. We’re great.

Me staring at him...

He’s my absolute best friend. The best man I’ve ever known. Of course we get angry at each other, annoyed, frustrated … but I have never wanted to get away from him. I have always wanted to be right at his side. Honestly. And that is a gift straight from the Father above.

I think of so many now, as I type this. My fifteen year old sister who is a child with adult responsibilities. My friends in their late twenties who have wanted to be married for SOOOO long, and yet continue to be obedient and WAIT. My parents who are fighting a battle that most will never know.

In the garden, God said, “It is not good for man to be alone.” And so He gave man “Eve.” They were naked and happy and unashamed. I think that’s what marriage is supposed to be.

It helps that we have the same goal. His name is Jesus. And that is the ONLY thing that has saved us. Our life preserver in the midst of storms, sleeper waves, and undertow currents. With my anchor in Christ alone, I’m steadied. I’m always safe, no matter what’s hitting me.

And… I think… that we were made for each other.

Oh friends… it is so worth the wait. In every sense of the word. Cause the storms are gonna hit you. Trust me. And it sure makes a difference to have a good man, the right man, at your side.

(My excuse for such sappiness? I went through our wedding pics last night. What can I say?)

the misty lowlands?

There’s something so agonizingly beautiful about the moments when you long for heaven.

As a believers in Christ we’re supposed to long for heaven because He is our treasure. But if we’re being honest, I think most of us have a hard time really understanding it.  Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one that has a hard time with the concept that there will be no marriage in heaven, or that I wont get to plant flowers with my daughter (or maybe I will), or … I don’t know. My human brain just doesn’t get it. I believe, but I don’t understand.

But there are moments when I do get it, and it hits me like a slap in the face. Or the heart. And that’s what I’m talking about. Those moments when I actually long for my “home”. Because what I’m longing for is the absence of sorrow. The absence of the “what-ifs.”

Sometimes I get it. And … heaven seems so sweet that I can’t even think about it. Cause my heart breaks. Because we’re still here on this spinning planet hurting, with the possibility of hurting. The what-ifs always in our shadow.

But then … another part of me KNOWS that I have access to the Kingdom of Heaven right now on earth. That it’s not as far away as it seems. That if Jesus is my treasure, I don’t have to be bound up in knots over the what-ifs…

… I just want to be free. I want to live it now. I want to discard the what-ifs in a big trash heap, cause that’s all they’re good for.

I want to throw off the trappings that make my feet heavy, and my shoulders stoop. I want to breathe deep… and rest in knowing that God is here among us. His name is Jesus.

I close with this prayer, written by A.W. Tolzier:

“O God, I have tasted Your goodness, and it has both satisfied and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need of further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire, O God, the Triune God. I want to want You; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made thirsty still. Show me Your glory, I pray You, that so I may know You indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, ‘Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.’ Then give me grace to rise and follow You up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long. In Jesus name, Amen.”

Mr. Darcy broke my heart

I didn’t have any big revelation today. I didn’t hear angels sing or see a rainbow or find a pot o’ gold; although I did think it was St. Paddy’s day until eleven a.m. My daughter had holiday appropriate clothing on and green bands in her hair. When my husband got out of bed I quickly pointed out that my undergarments had a green stripe on them as to avoid getting pinched. Thus I learned today was just an ordinary day.

But not really so for me. I went birthday shopping for my mom.

I wandered around a store for local entrepreneurs, glancing at old perfume bottles, handmade jewelry, and weird clothing that no one would really buy… would they? All the while, trying not to absorb the words of “Time in Bottle”. I’ve never liked that song, but under the circumstances, my eyes felt like a rain-filled reservoir about to break. I had hoped to find a replica of a lamp my mom made when I was a young- a lamp that I broke while climbing under the table as a child. No such luck there.

I walked over to Evangile, but I still can’t figure out what they’re selling. Case in point? A row of books dedicated to Mr. Darcy. From Jane Austin. Yes. A contemporary fiction series all about a woman’s obsession with Mr. Darcy. I confess to reading one of them because I liked the cover. There’s posters of Luke Wilson (the actor) right next to the Nooma section. Nothing wrong with that. Just … out of balance or something. I was going to buy mom a book because she loves to read, but the backs of them all were nothing less than depressing.

My trip was fruitless. I did decide against a card. No card could ever say the words that I feel for my mother. Absolutely nothing could convey my love for her properly. Except a lamp. Or that other thing that I’m still hoping to find.

And no amount of writing could convey  the emotion that battered the heck out of me today. I kept it at bay. Pushing it back, back, back. Till it turned into a headache.  I wont post this link anywhere because I don’t want my mom to see it. I’m not ashamed, I just don’t want her to think that she was the cause of me having a bad day. In truth, it was a wonderful day. Every single step saturated with meaning. Meaning far too pregnant to explain. How privileged am I to shop for the greatest woman I have ever known?

Maybe I will post this. Maybe I do want her to read this. I don’t know if she will or not… but I want her to know that I love her. So much that it hurts.

Mom… I absolutely love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

I love you forever.

bloomin’ onion

Driving back from Safeway today, I noticed the pink blossoms on the trees. I love my rainy, gloomy winters, but something about the fresh blooms just made me almost wish for sunshine. And then I passed the porn store.

It’s right there on the main highway, across from the mall and next door to the century-old sandwich shop. It’s a blue and white building, that, were it not for the covered up windows and the name, would not look like a porn store. And it’s parking lot was full of beautiful, pink- blossomed trees.

I could not help but hear the cry of creation as it praised it’s Creator. While the sons and daughters of men go inside “Megacastle” filling themselves with something that will eat them alive one day at a time, still the trees SCREAM of a God that loves.And there is no place His love cannot reach. Even the parking lot of a porn store. For the one that quenches his thirst with a watered-down, preversion of real love, God waits.

When people tried to silence the believers, Jesus answered, “I tell you that if these should keep silent, the stones would immediately cry out.”

Look out your window. Do you hear it?

“For you shall go out with joy, And be led out with peace; The mountains and the hills Shall break forth into singing before you, And all the trees of the field shall clap [their] hands.” Isaiah 55:12

I wonder if a bloomin onion would be beautiful to someone who had never seen a real flower before…