rooted at the edge

The door closes behind me and I walk across the yard, to the edge of the hill. My hands find the picket fence and I stand there looking out across the valley below.

I stand there and take a deep breath. There is something difference about tonight, everything here seems untouched, unscathed by the haste and striving pace of the world. The landscape seems as if it’s being orchestrated to move along in time. As the light escapes the sky, the pace of things is slowed even more, stilled, quieted, and I begin to feel it in my heart.

I stood there, rooted, loosing track of time because I found Him and I didn’t want to leave. 

There’s no need to keep up with the world because it goes at much too fast of a pace, and if we followed, we would miss the moments like these. . . we would miss Him.

The world can continue to compete to be heard and esteemed and known, the world can continue to strive, but I don’t have to. I can breathe deep and feel God’s embrace, knowing that this sea of peace is the only thing that can fill.

When we give up the need to compete in this world, we can accept that we are complete in Christ.

There is no lack found there, there is no need to be better or do more, because He is enough.

My hands reach up. What more can you do in a moment like that. Then I feel my heart imitating the same movement, soundlessly reaching up, reaching to find the hand of my Father. Reaching for the embrace of the One who would quiet and calm my soul.

This is all that will ever matter: that we open wide enough for Him to fill us.

I don’t need to be heard, because I’m known. I don’t need to strive, because I’m stilled.

Somewhere in between the door and this edge. Somewhere in between my surrender and His pursuit. Somewhere in between hands raised and knees bent low, this is where I am at. This is where He finds us.

that is the grace

Three minutes was all the time it took. Three minutes and my heart was tenderly broken by these words. Three minutes and I was gently reminded of the grace under which I stand. Even though the words of this video can stand alone, I was urged to write them out. One . . . by . . . one. Letting them sink a little deeper. I wanted to make my heart remember this because it is far to incredible to be so quickly dismissed.

- The script from the video above, by Matt Chandler  -

Our default position as strugglers is to believe that God is disappointed and frustrated.

That He simply is tolerating us.

The apostle Paul in Ephesians one says, no, no, no. . . before the foundation of the earth was laid He was going to adopt you, make you holy and blameless in His sight. So, whether difficult days or good days, God’s at work, God has not abandoned you in this difficult season.

HOW AMAZING DOES THAT MAKE OUR GOD?

That in our hypocrisy He is long suffering with us? In our inability to live out all that He would call us to, He continues to lavish upon us His grace?

In Him we have redemption through His blood; the forgiveness of our trespasses according to the riches of His grace which He lavished upon us in all wisdom and insight. 

I love this word lavish: extravagant . . . plentiful . . . over the top. And so now, when the Bible’s talking about forgiveness it is saying that His grace in forgiveness is lavished.

His grace in forgiveness is lavished.

As though it’s too much. It’s ridiculous, a ridiculous amount. It’s over the top. It’s out of control.

Man or woman of God in Christ who is struggling, God does not regret saving you!

He doesn’t regret it!

You haven’t surprised Him, you cannot surprise Him. God is not watching where you are now, watching how you’ve struggled this week, watching how you stumble and fall and regretting the decision to pay the price for you in full. You have no sin, past, present, or future that has more power than the cross of Jesus Christ.

This means that your salvation wasn’t just a past event alone, but that Christ even now is continuing to save you. He didn’t forgive your past sins and now has left it up to you conquer present and future sins.

It means God can rescue! It means God can save!

And it means for those of us who are in Christ Jesus, you do not disgust Him. . . you do not disgust Him.

“Well, you don’t know what I struggle with and how deplorable it is.” Well, I know that Jesus would say that He paid the bill in full, and so what you’re saying is nonsense. That is the grace with which He lavished on us in His forgiveness.

THAT is the grace.

the words I write

Here I am surrounded by words. Every day I wake up and see a world brimming with beauty and there are so many little details that I want to capture and account for. There are so many things that are worth putting into words and yet time only allows me mere moments to narrate it all. 

I look around and in the ordinary I can see God’s love bursting out, His glory and His grace seem to have brushed against all of it. How can anyone say that this is not worth taking the time to put into words, not worth narrating?

It’s worth all of the time in the world!

There's a story unfolding before us, it’s being told through all of these details and we are apart of it. It’s a story filled with hope and daring faith, filled with courageous hearts and bold declarations. It’s the single greatest story and whether you realize it or not, you are moving along this riveting storyline with the rest of us. You are apart of it and have a definite role to play. 

The unfortunate thing is that at times the world can blind us from seeing the storyboard, it can cause us to forget that we were called by grace to step onto the scene.

There was a time when I couldn’t distinguish it, when I couldn’t distinguish the love and glory that was saturating the world around me. There was a time when I was blind to the small graces that were constantly being given. A time when this great story was unfamiliar and unknown. Yet, in the midst of bleakness I was pointed towards the Author, and that’s when His story was revealed. All grace, all mercy, and love were revealed in that moment and that’s when this story became known, became familiar, and finally became real to me.

How then will others know of this great story unless we tell them, how then will they take notice if we don’t show them.

And here is where my heart is at. I’m filled with wonder, captivated and in awe as I watch this story unfold. Today I can see it, it’s all there before me: His love, His grace, His glory. I see it. But my heart burns for others to see it too.

My heart wants others to see the beauty of a God that loves us with an unrelenting love.

My heart wants to pull others in with me, so that they can experience this awe, so they can know this story for themselves.

This is why I’m filled with such a passion to capture this beautiful story and put it into words, so that others might see too.

This is why I write.

Because there is so much worth taking the time to put into words; so much of His beauty that is continually being revealed.

Again, here I am, surrounded by words, but words that are not all my own. I’m privileged to be a pencil in the hands of a writing God who is writing to the world His story. These words are my best attempt at pointing back to the One who is behind them, to the One who is writing out this story and bringing His words to life.

These words are not about me. They are about what He is doing in me and through me. Ultimately it isn’t about what I write, it’s about the One who gives me the words to write.

It’s my hope and my aim that the words I do write show the value of the One who created them. That through these words His story is constantly being revealed and described. That through them you might see your part in all of this, your definite role in His story.

And so, I urge you to look around, look at the beauty that is saturating the world on every side. Take a moment and look, I promise you will begin to see it. In the details and splendor you will begin to see not just beauty and brilliance, but the face of a masterful artist, a marvelous God. Look, even for just a moment, look and you will see it too.

 

My heart is stirred by a noble theme as I recite my verses for the king; my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer. Psalm 45:1

your story was being told

You were often the protagonist in my story; the one taking the risk, living in faith, moving beyond their past, living on love and embracing your identity as a new creation in Christ. I want to tell you that your story mattered. Your life was at times exactly the inspiration that I needed. The character of a young person after God’s heart, perhaps scared of what life was really like, apprehensive of what their future might hold, of what their past might have meant – but all the while stepping out into the life you could live in Christ.
You were brave, faithful and encouraging.
When your story was revealed to me, it was a product of your own real life, and now real grace: I was filled with hope. 
So I want to say thank you. In the past year my own life has experienced growth, and I must thank God for the way He used the unique heart and nature of a Godly example like you to speak truth into my life. I may not have always been as active in your story, in helping you in your journey as I could have been and even wanted to be, but I was observing and learning and growing. At the time I needed to see someone who was real, someone who had hurts, yes, but also victories, heart, and emotions and was willing to be vulnerable by sharing and living their story. By allowing me to see small glimpses of who you were, it meant seeing you both in joy and sorrow, but most all of in reality.
I may have only listened to your story, and at times all I had to offer was my silence, but I was there, and am even now. So to the good person before me, who is living out their transformation, living out love, living out faith, and doing it all in a world that desperately needs rescue and restoration, I thank you.
Its not easy to take this walk of life. But it becomes easier when we communicate, share and help each other – even if that just means our interactions and relationships with each other, in whatever ways those take place, are lived honestly and to edify each other, to both our benefit and to the glory of God. By being and living as the person God made you.
Your heart and your personality – they are gifts. When I saw how easily you seemed to embrace these things, I realized that they were gifts to you, and to us all from God. This became a catalyst for growth in my own life. Your unique heart and nature were revealed in your faith, worship, and prayer, the smile on your face and the daily life you were living. It was all beautiful and good; a glory to God and a blessing to me.
Now, when I think of those times when I felt the most encouraged, I realize that it was often in my observation of God inside of you. Seeing Him shine through in every area of your life, as a bright example to all those who surrounded you. Your walk, your story, and your life was different, indeed – but different was good, helpful, and encouraging.
Seeing you becoming the person that God had intended you to be, made me realize that both of us are in this walk together, heading in the same direction yet with different roles to play in bringing life and hope to this world in our own unique way. Its all bringing me closer to His love, to His character and His heart.

We are similar in many ways, and while we are even striving to reach the same final goal, we each have our own task to encourage each other, to live these lives as Godly examples. It is also in this life that we are called to give glory to God and bring hope to this world; restoring and rescuing the love that is desperately needed.
It was your story that brought inspiration, encouragement, and hope.
It was your story, both told and untold, that helped me discover parts of my own.
So, to you my dear friend, continue to tell your story, so that others might find theirs as well.

I have always known you

Quicker than I would have hoped; our destination appeared ahead of us. Our conversation fades and reality sets in a little deeper.

We have arrived.

Settled deep into the land there is a little blue farm house that is surrounded by different pastures.

The first thing to catch my attention is the front door. It bids a warm welcome with its deep rich red color, its an odd but fitting contrast to the color of the house. It looks worn to the eye at first, but considering the surroundings, its appearance merely suggests that it is a home. Not yet ours; but a home none the less.

Before our car even has a chance to stop, we are greeted by two barking dogs. All of sudden the quiet serenity of this little farm seems to be harshly broken. Situated behind the house is a small wooden barn and from it I see a tall individual emerge. Their hood is pulled over their head and slowly they begin to walk towards the stirring commotion. As quickly as the tension had rose, composure was found once more and the dogs were hushed with a few words from their owner.

In an attempt to avoid the rain and yet still bid a warm welcome to us, the individual only slightly pulled their hood above their eyes, and with genuine words we were introduced. It was when her eyes met all of ours that I felt as if I had always known her. She looked weary as if she had been hard at work all day. I quickly got the feeling that she was unaware of our planned visit, hence the frazzled look upon her face.

None of us knew that we would meet on that rainy afternoon, but God did, He planned for it.

After our greetings were exchanged and the situation explained, our conversation began to change. Within moments it was as if we were reunited friends, comfortable and joyful in each others presence. Soon our new friend began to share bits and pieces of her life story with us. All was vague, but still she shared with us, and along the way I began to pick up what I could and fill in the blanks. I stood there watching her story unravel before my eyes. She was an only child who grew up in this house, the walls know memories and the fields know the joy. There was so much of her intertwined within every part of this place, it was clear to see why she was so attached, this was a part of her that she was leaving behind.

As the story continued another reason for her attachment began to surface . . . her father. This was his house, and in his absence it had been all that she had to hold onto; all that she had left to remind her of him. Now I know. Now I see my friend, I see why its so hard for you to leave this place, the memories, the recollections of all you have ever known, it can’t be easy to walk away from it all. I understand, truly I do.

I stood there and my heart felt like a string had been attached to her, and I wondered why. God why to this person whom I may never again see in my life, a person who I’ve only known for twenty minutes and yet I feel like I’ve know her my whole life. I feel like I’ve been there with her through everything she’s told us about, like I’ve been there living her story with her, and yet why?

I didn’t plan this. I had no idea that I would have been standing here with this stirring in my heart at this moment. Yet God did.

He knew, and He knows even when I still have no answer to it.

As her story finished my eyes caught hers. And what I saw in her eyes I surely know was in my own; that ever-so familiar fear, the fear of the unknown. There we are, each one of us standing in the drizzling rain, face to face with an unknown reality, standing there without a clue as to what the future will bring.

Yet in it all I remember a hope for all of us; a hope that will hold us up when we eventually have to step into this reality and risk all we’ve known and been confortable holding onto. It’s a hope that knows when we walk with Him the new realities and changes that we face will never be enough to weigh us down.

Our farewell was long-lived as we all knew that we would probably never see each other again. And then I feel it again: that string tugs at my heart as we begin to depart.  I know its to remember her, to remember her story, to remember her in prayer because for whatever reason, God had orchestrated that time and place for that particular encounter.

With everything in me, I prayed that the words we spoke and the encouragement we were able to offer was able to blow hope into her soul, because I know it surely was blown into mine.

There’s never a void reason behind moments like those.

God knows . . . He always knows.