devo//God is LIGHT [1 John 1:5-6]

This is the message that we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with him, yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth. [1 John 1:5-6]

In yesterday's passage, John reminds his readers that The Life appeared... in flesh and blood, right before their very eyes. We looked at Him! Heard His teachings with our own ears! TOUCHED Him! Eternal life... we knew Him personally, and walked with Him even after His resurrection... He reminds us that the disciples carried with them an eyewitness account so powerful, they were willing to die for it. The Life Appeared and that changed everything.

And now, he goes on... he says this is the message Jesus would want you to know... God is light. Absolute, perfect light- not even a shadow. And if you walk with Him... you will have light too.

Light.  Not one single drop of darkness. Not one shadow of sin. Not one questionable motive. Nothing but light... purity... love... peace. No darkness. At all. None.

And this Light is an indwelling Light. It's a light that says "let me in to the darkness of your heart... allow me free reign to shine my Light on that sin. that secret. that hidden motive. that pride. Won't you allow my Light to cast out ALL darkness?"

Oh, how we say yes. How I enthusiastically nod my head when a preacher says "will you lay it ALL down for His glory?" Oh how I will cry out to the Lord... "If it's not of you, take it! No darkness left at all! No shadow! No will but Yours! No plan but Yours!"

Yet there are still moments when we allow the darkness to creep is, aren't there?

There are still moments when we seek our glory... (just a little teensy weensy bit of glory for ourselves isn't to bad, right?)... when we put ourselves out there to be noticed, instead of pointing to the ONLY One worthy of praise...

There are still times when we allow just a tad of darkness to enter through our television sets, or computers, or the books we read. It's not really pornography if it's printed in black and white, is it? If the pictures are painted in our minds instead of on a screen. It's not really idolatry if I spend more time watching sitcoms than I do in the Word, is it? It's just harmless laughs, checking-out of reality for a few hours...

There are still times when we let our unbridled tongues  slander, belittle, cause strife. When "concern" leads to a prayer request that is a lot more like gossip. When we open the door to sin ever so slightly.

But darkness just needs a little crack... and then it has this way of chipping away at the edges until the crack is larger and larger and larger... and it's pouring in as one by one by one you shut out the Light in your life.

A little more TV a little less Bible. A little more fiction and a little less prayer. A little more gossip and a little less edification. A little more pride and a little less praise.

Light is powerful, yes. But darkness is cunning.

One moment it's just a little darkness... and then a little more... and then a little more... until you are sitting in a room with all the lights out and you don't even notice because your eyes have adjusted to the darkness. It's...somehow comfortable. Had all the lights gone out at once, you would have noticed. But one at a time it's so much easier to adjust. One little sin. One little compromise. One little day not in the Word. One church service missed. And then another, and another... and it becomes easier. Darkness becomes more comfortable.

But there is good news, my friend. Because whether there is a little darkness or total blackness in your heart, you invite the Light and it always wins. A completely blackened room is transformed by one little candle... and the more you fan that flame, the bigger it gets, and the more darkness flees. One confession and the door to darkness is shut... Repentance and Light can rule and reign.

God is light, in Him there is no darkness at all.
If we claim to have fellowship with him yet walk in the darkness, we lie.

Life with Him leaves no room for darkness. His perfect light, His perfect love, His perfect peace, His perfect presence seeks to destroy all of the darkness in your life. Will you allow Him to search your heart today? To search out anything that can be an opening to darkness? To examine your motives for purity? To examine your heart for idols? To examine your mind for distractions?

Will you choose today to walk in the Light?

Father, cleanse us from all unrighteousness! Search our hearts, our minds for anything that is not of you. Shine the bright Light of your glory on these things and bring wisdom to our innermost being... Show us how we can live lives more fully devoted to you- laying down our pride and agendas- and trusting in you alone.

devo//the life APPEARED [1 john 1:1-4]

(last year in November I did a month of thanks, this year the Lord has impressed on my heart to do a devotional study of 1 John. let’s see how it goes…)

1 That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched—this we proclaim concerning the Word of life. ² The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us. ³ We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. ⁴ We write this to make our joy complete. [1 John 1:1-4]

The different colors of highlighter and ink pen in my Bible tell me I have read this passage many times… and yet, my heart was assaulted by something completely new this time. Something that I seem to have skimmed over before. It was not highlighted or underlined until this time, when in the reading it assaulted my heart in such a way it won the prize of a box drawn around it. Three little words that changed the world…

The life appeared.

The LIFE appeared.

THE Life APPEARED!

How many times have I skimmed those words? How many times have I instead focused on this eyewitness account, or the desire for fellowship based on common belief in Christ, or the importance of sharing our story. Missing those three words… The life appeared.

When did I lose my wonder that the LIFE, Eternal Life, appeared.  The One who had been with God since thebeginning, through whom all things werecreated, who was not only with God but was God… appeared here… in this fallen, broken, imperfect world.  That He left the company of the Father… to meet me.

When did I start focusing so tightly on the work (witnessing, discipling, sharing, writing) that I could skim over those three LIFE-CHANGING words?

The.Life.Appeared.

I want to change the world. Those closest to me, they want to be world changers too… but sometimes we can get so caught up in the doing that we lose our wonder. The Truth of Jesus Christ becomes almost mundane in our hearts. Taken for granted. Normal. 

But The Life appearing… there is nothing mundane about that!  It should arrest our hearts every single time that the Son of God would leave the unending worship of heaven to be spat on and rejected in this world… out of love for you [for me].

Jesus, who enjoyed constant fellowship with the Father, left His throne… for us. To chase us. To pursue our hearts. To make a way. To justify and reconcile and set things right.

And He changed everything.

Today, let’s focus our hearts on the simple Truth that the LIFE appeared.   The Way. The Truth. The Life joined us here, so that we can also join Him there.  The same Jesus who entered this broken, fallen, failing world also entered my broken, fallen, failing heart… and He changed me. Don’t lose your wonder, friend! Don’t lose your awe and amazement that Jesus came for you. Rest in THAT today, because no matter what you are facing… The Life appeared and brought with Him peace, hope, joy… eternity. All for you.

The Life APPEARED.

[isn't it amazing?]

Father, remind us of the miracle of Jesus today! Renew the awe and passion of our first love… when we first realized that Jesus really DID enter this world… so that He could have our hearts! Let us never, ever, ever lose our wonder at who you are… and that every single thing that you are, you are for US! We LOVE YOU Jesus!!! 

a daddy's love

I answered the phone knowing what he would say...

"I found Lily" and then, voice cracking, "she's gone."

Details, question- where, how, are you sure? How does she look? Can Tali see her? What should I do?

"I will have her on the back deck, Tali can see her."

The walk to Tali's room filled with prayer. And she knew the minute she saw my face. She had just been helping her daddy look for her Lily, he had just sent her inside...

"No Mommy, no..."

And then she ran outside... to her daddy... to her beloved pup... to a scene that broke this heart wide open.

Jim stood on the steps, cradling the ball of fluff that was our Lily girl in his arms... sobbing. The voice that had cracked on the phone, was overcome when his little girl came bursting through the back door in search of her "little ball of love" (as Tali once described Lily in a school paper).

We all loved Lily. but I knew standing their that Jim's grief came more from seeing his baby girl broken as anything else.

That's a daddy's heart.

It's a heart that seeks to protect and guide and care for... it's a heart that breaks when his children's breaks. It's a heart that will sit on the back deck, cradling the lifeless body of a dog, for as long as his little girl needs to say goodbye.

As I stood there in the cool of the night watching the scene unfold... my heart was wrecked. It was wrecked for my little girl, grieving. It was wrecked with love for my husband, such a good, good daddy. And it was wrecked with a vision of how our own Daddy God loves us.

Jim's construction green shirt showing the evidence of a long days work, hands stained from an evening repairing his truck... and his strong arms gently cradling the eight pound dog he just carried from the highway.

And I thought... This... this is how our Daddy God carries OUR grief.

Despite the big things going on in the world... our Daddy captures every one of our tears in a bottle. Each is precious to Him. He meets you in your grief. And He will sit with you, on the back deck, for as long as you need to work through it.

He will enter into your grief with you. Not a distant being gazing at you, watching from afar... a person, there, holding your grief in His strong arms. Present... in the moment. Grieving with you.

I think about Jesus as He made His way to Lazarus's tomb... when Mary threw herself at Jesus's feet, wracked by grief over the loss of her brother... Jesus wept.

Jesus joined her in her grief... even though He knew He would be bringing Lazarus back... Why? Why would Jesus cry? He wasn't grieving because He would never see Lazarus again. He didn't cry because He was late to the funeral. He grieved because the one He loved grieved. He hurt because she hurt.

He hurts when you hurt.

I saw such a beautiful, heart wrenching picture of this on Monday night.A daddy's tears shed one for one for the tears of his daughter. Strong arms carrying her affection and grief. Not rushing her to move through her emotions... but joining her in them. Processing with her. The utmost of respect given to a grave, a dignified spot in the yard, a stone to mark a little life full of love. And later, when sleep would not come, pulling his little girl onto his lap. Validating her brokenness and in doing so, beginning the fine work of putting her back together again.

Such a good, good daddy.

So much like another Daddy I know.

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! 1 John 3:1a

[You can read about the day we found Lily here]

Also- to update, Tali is processing her grief well. She still has tearful, "Lily is really gone" moments... and I certainly have never seen her grieve so deeply, but am proud of how she has leaned on us and her Daddy God to comfort. 

a canvas on which He can paint

I walk through the park, the first real evidence of autumn crunching softly beneath my feet. I am here to meet with a client, to capture her beauty in this beauty, but she is blessedly late and so I have time to walk. To meditate.

This is my season. My favorite.  With crisp air and bright blue skies I begin to watch anxiously for the majestic works of art our Creator puts on display. Splashes of red and orange and yellow infiltrating the green of summer. 

Camera in hand I walk and muse. Peering through the lens His art becomes my art. Everywhere I walk I find the sun piercing the canopy, a fire igniting color, changing from green to orange. I praise Him for His beauty, the intricacies with which He has painted the landscape. Each exploding in color in her own time.  He invites me to sit. Listen. 

And He crushes my heart with the beauty of His plan.

How He has created each tree, just so. Some will gain color and lose leaves before the first tinge of orange kisses the leaves of others.

And that’s okay. Each in its own time.

The grass is soft beneath me as I sit. I gaze upward and take in one who is young, yet boasting the most stunning array of color.  Although youthful compared to the giants that surround her, she reflects His glory beautifully.  She is no less in the landscape although roots still reach for depth in the soil beneath her.  Her exuberance evident in reds and oranges and yellow.  Her color not a reflection of her maturity, but His beauty and who He created her to be.

Oh, the spiritual giants that stand to her left and her right. Tall graceful necks boasting a canopy of green stretch toward blue.  Enough light bursting through their branches to nourish the young one beneath.  It is not their responsibility to cause her to grow. No, they are just conduits for His light to shine through. It is His light that grows and matures and changes. They shelter, protect, and show her the way, leaning into the sun. But the growing, that is between her and the Father.

Ah, but this other, I know her. She stands, arms outstretched among the giants. She longs for the deep roots they have.  I know her desires. I see her wondering how she fits into the landscape. Neither young and full of color nor mature and stretching toward the sky. Tips of her branches just beginning to show the flair that is autumn. She stands insecure, not seeing how she fills in the space in the landscape perfectly. How her head of just-changing color fills makes the transition from the green standing above her to the fiery red below seamless. Beautiful.  Painted by a Master Artist.  

She doesn’t wonder. He says to my heart.

She doesn’t wonder what her role, or when her own branches will spread far as the mature trees around her, or her roots tap into the richest of soil beneath. She doesn’t wonder. Do not put those insecurities on her. Those are yours, my child.

She knows who she is.

(And He CRUSHES my heart with the beauty of His plan.)

They do not compare their color. Their height. Their role in the Kingdom.

They just allow me to paint. To make their lives a reflection of my glory.

They do not strive.

They do not market their grandeur.

They merely reflect my glory. It is all I created them for.

To be my canvas.

And so I lean back. I look at my feet stretched before me, surrounded by the beauty of the fallen.  A hole worn into the toe of my shoes from many steps taken. Steps on the path He has painted before me.

The promises He has spoken over me, into me, make their way through my head.  The branches He has pruned away so that His glory can be ever more revealed.  Those branches He continues to prune.  My heart beats wildly.

All that I want is all that You have for me.

That I may have roots reaching ever deeper.

That I may be marked by the colors you paint onto me. Exuberant. Joyful.

That I may be a conduit for your light to shine onto others.

That I may be a shelter.

That I may be a canvas on which you can paint.

This is my desire for you, child.

Not that you would be as tall as her. Or as loud as her. Or as meek as her. Not that your colors would look like hers.

That you would be a canvas on which I can paint

                                                                                                                (your own story)

                                                                                                                (your own color)

                                                                                                                (your own timing)

                                                                                                                (all for my glory)

A car pulls up. My client is here and so I stand, wiping bits of earth from my legs and hands.

I glance over my shoulder. One last look at His glory revealed.

(And He crushes my heart with the beauty of His plan)

A glory revealed not in the individual leaf, or branch, or tree.

But a glory revealed in the landscape. Each singing the colors He has given them individually.

This is not about me.

This is about me taking my place in the landscape. Reflecting His glory so that the whole is covered.

This about being a canvas on which He can paint.

A conduit through which His light may shine through.

All I want, Lord, is all that YOU have for me.

Lord, have your way in me. In us. Pick up your brush… and paint...

two little men

Isn't it strange how God can use the most common things... things that may seem so insignificant to others... to speak directly to your heart?

He did that to me on Saturday night as I was scrolling through my Facebook wall on my phone. I came across this check in at Mi Pueblo, where a small group of us had gathered to discuss the Micah 6:8 Project...

Had she tagged us in a different order, I wonder if I would have even noticed. I wonder if I would have stopped. I wonder if I would have cried...

But tagged as we were, my heart was assaulted by the vision of two little boys, both on the water... 

One, my son. My very own profile picture. I love this picture of Zach, such JOY, such ABANDON, such FREEDOM. He was at the lake with friends, a place of recreation and fun and laughs and adventure. 

But not for the little boy in the next picture. Not for the little man captured by Christy Farhar. The lake for him... a place of bondage. Work. Pain. Enslaved in Lake Volta's fishing industry along with 7,000 other children. The joy of the little white boy next to him, surely a distant memory... if he has ever known it. 

And as I thought about this... 

Oh, how I wept. 

I wondered... what would I do, if it were my Zach enslaved on that lake?. What ends would I go to rescue him, to bring him home, to let him know that I love him... to make sure He is safe and secure? How much money would I spend? What sacrifice would I make? My very own son, the one whom I love from the depths of who I am... how far would I go?

But the truth is, friends, the little man in Christy's picture is no less our son. He is no less our flesh and blood. He is no less valuable. No less in need of a hope and a future. No less in the eyes of God. Just because I have not yet put my arms around his little brown body... He is no less mine to care for. 

He is no less yours.

Think about your own children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews... if they were trapped in slavery, forced to work fourteen hour days, fed one inadequate meal, uneducated... how far would you go? What sacrifice would you make?

I challenge you... to let your mind go there. Really rest in that pain for a moment. Because in the Kingdom, he is ours. And if you would go to the ends of the earth to rescue the one you love, should you not be willing to do the same for the one He loves? Should our hearts not break for the things that break His? How far would you go?

Yesterday in church, Seth shared the story of the Grapevine Faith football game against the Gainesville State School in Texas. How the whole town of Grapevine rallied around the boys from Gainesville- the boys brought in on a maximum security bus with twelve armed guards. How the parents of the Grapevine players sat behind the Gainesville boys, cheering them on to hit their very own sons. How the cheerleaders stood in a line and cheered on the Tornadoes, even though the front of their uniforms said "Lions". How they rooted for the Gainesville boys instead of their own kids... because that's what Jesus would have them to do. 

And the whole time he was talking, as the tears made their way down my cheeks, I thought of the picture of two little men on my Facebook wall. One I do not know, and one that I would die for... and the Lord challenged my heart... would you root for this little naked child over your own? Would you cause your own son to sacrifice from abundance, so that this one could have the most basic of necessities... food, clothing, freedom.

photo by Christopher Knopf, September 2012

That is my challenge for you today, friends. Look into these eyes... and see the one you love. Wrap your mind, even if just for a moment, around the kind of life these children in Ghana know. 

And then resolve in your heart to do something to help. Don't just look in his face and then closing your browser window, forget. What does the Lord require of you? But to act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8 He requires us to look into this face... and then to reach down our very own hands to help. He requires it, friends. Acts of justice are not something the Lord takes lightly... and when He called us to be His hands and feet, sometimes it will look just like this.

I realize that not everyone will walk in this dusty African soil, take the broken by the hand and lead them into a new life. But there are ways you can help from right there, where you are... whether you are on your couch or at your kitchen table or sitting at your desk at work or in your car... There are ways that you can reach out a hand to the least of these. To the ones who can never repay you. To the ones whom, if you would bend your knee and look in their eyes you will realize look an awful lot like the ones you love the most. Wherever you are, whether you have much or little, there is something that YOU can do. 

You can partner with us at the Micah 6:8 Project to build a residential and vocational center so that more children can be brought home off the lake. Our partners promise a monthly gift of any amount, and will be the backbone of this project, sustaining it for years to come. Bringing a hope and a future.

Or you can join us in our first annual Prayer 5k. For gifts of $35 or $50, you can join us in our goal of raising $5000 and 5000 prayers for this project... making a way for a mission team to travel to Ghana in November to look at land that has been provided by the very hand of God, land that is ours for the taking if it meets our needs. Land that will allow us to build the orphanage to house kids who deserve the same education, freedom, love, hope that we desire for all of our own children to have.

Are you willing? 

Are you willing to sacrifice from your own child's abundance, so that the children of Ghana may have the most basic of necessities? Is it worth $50 to look into the eyes of this little boy and know you have done something to help? Oh, if that were my Zachary wrapped in brown skin... oh, there is no sacrifice that would be too great... am I willing to open my eyes to the truth that this one I have never met, is no less mine? No less a part of my heart? 

I see it now. I see it in a whole new way. Two pictures of little men on lakes, lakes that are a world apart geographically and emotionally... a casual scroll down my Facebook wall... and my heart is wrecked. I can't stop crying. I can't stop wondering what more can I do? 

If you feel as helpless to help as I do, I would ask you to visit The Micah 6:8 Project to see how you CAN help. Give a financial gift of any amount. Join us in our Prayer 5k (a 5k that involves no walking or running, instead 3.5 days of prayer for this project and the lives it will touch). There are only five days left to register, and we are only a third of the way to our goal of one hundred people to participate... one hundred people. Surely there are one hundred of you whose hearts will break for the things that break His? Surely there are one hundred of you who are willing to sacrifice $35 or $50 to bring freedom to the lives of children... surely...surely there are.

I am willing. I have looked into those dark brown eyes and seen my own children. Are you willing to do the same? Are you willing to love on Jesus the way He really asked us to love on Him, not through arms raised or voices loud... but by loving the very least of these? Pray about it friends... and then do something...

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress. James 1:27

Father, would you move our hearts? Lord would you break our hearts for what breaks yours? Will you bring each of us an individual revelation of that which you've required of us... what it really looks like to act justly? to love mercy? to walk humbly? Would you open our eyes to the needs of this world and show us, Father, that if we sacrifice for you, that if we give in the way you have asked us to give... that we will not have to worry about a thing. That you are the God who owns the cattle on a thousand hills, and that you have us covered? Move on hearts today! Father I ask that you bring abundant support for the Micah 6:8 Project, that you would continue to confirm your will for this home in Ghana by bringing the project exactly what it needs! Lord I thank you that you are a God who is able... a God who is able to humble my heart and show me where I have failed to break, a God who is able to do this incredible thing in Ghana, a God who is able to use something like a check in at a Mexican restaurant to challenge my heart and change my mindset... I love you so much... Let us do this for YOUR glory!

living in the {in between}

The debate was long and wavering. Do we stay in the new house or not? Aunt Sharon still had a few things to pack... I wanted to give her the space to do that, Jim was ready to get IN. The kids were excited to start their new school year from The New House. We had people lined up to help move on Saturday. This was Wednesday. Could we not wait a few more days for the dream God had planted in our hearts to be realized? Isn't patience a virtue?

Tali, the kid who always says the thing everyone in the room/family/group is thinking [not sure where she would get that from??] told Sharon (in conversation) it wouldn't really be our house til we slept here. Aunt Sharon answered "well, you can start sleeping here anytime you want!"

Yes, that's all Jim needed to hear.

The next day I called to see what he was doing... "taking the bunk beds apart". He was matter-of-fact. There was no room for discussion or debate. We were sleeping in The New House. Tonight.

This is for real.

I was driving in my truck and suddenly those tears that I had held onto for so long began to flood down my cheeks.

We are really, really, really moving.

After the disappointment of "the other house"... it was so, so, so, hard to let my heart believe.Despite the promises, the talk, the blog post, the facebook statuses, the decorations purchased, the plans made... I have to be honest with you, friends... I didn't really believe it until that moment. [insert ugly cry here]

The reality of God's faithfulness hit me like never before. He is a God that does what He says He is going to do. I have said that dozens, hundreds of times. Now I was living it.

How can something make you feel so small and so significant all at the same time? The awe of a God who is SO BIG that He gets to do whatever He wants to do? A God who knew from the BEGINNING the plans He had for our family? That the same God that spoke the UNIVERSE into EXISTENCE would give a flying fig where the Boyles family lived!? That He would love us so stinking much! That with the injustices of the world and the millions of prayers whispered, spoken, screamed every day... that He would hear MINE. A God so faithful that He would take us through the pain of disappointment so that we could learn how to lean... who let us feel *that* so we could fully appreciate *this*.

And so, the beds moved to Bruceville.

And with them, the Boyles family.

our first night in the new house

That evening was a blur. We ate some sort of supper that night, I think... [Lord tell me I fed the children the night before their first day of school?] We packed the back of my truck with clothes, bedding and other necessities. Beds went up. Jim made more trips back to Edwardsport for this or that which we needed to survive [back packs]. The kids lay on the living room floor watching a show in their kindle fires. And then we headed to bed.

I will never forget the feeling of laying there in my bed in this new house. I felt foreign. Like I was somewhere I didn't belong... sleeping in someone else's house.  Walking in the promise we had stood on so long. Jim and I could not sleep. Despite our exhaustion we talked through the night. I found out the next day, Tali and Zach lay awake deep into the night as well.

The next day I visited the old house. I expected to walk in and be washed by a wave of nostalgia, maybe even a tinge of sadness... but instead I found that it felt even smaller. More claustrophobic. The decor more dated. Less like home. In fact, it felt foreign too.

That night I told Jim, "here we have two houses... and neither of them feel like home"... don't get me wrong, we were over-the-moon, out-of-our-minds ecstatic about The New House... it just didn't feel like home yet. 

After exhaustion finally won the battle in the man next to me, I lay there alone with me thoughts. Two houses, no home.

As I talked with God that night... He whispered to my heart that this is a little bit like the life He expects us to live on this earth.

Friends, this world is not your home, so don't make yourselves cozy in it. Don't indulge your ego at the expense of your soul. Live an exemplary life among the natives so that your actions will refute their prejudices. Then they'll be won over to God's side and be there to join in the celebration when he arrives. 1 Peter 2:11 MSG

This world... no more our home than that old house. This world, crowded, claustrophobic, less than His desire for our lives. Toilet that doesn't flush right. Wallpaper border torn by the busy hands of a toddler. Carpets stained. Cracks in the ceiling from a tree limb that fell. And so small in the face of His Kingdom. The Kingdom that stretches across time and space.

Yet how many of us really feel at home in this Kingdom-life either? How many of us feel like we don't quite belong. We aren't quite good enough. We don't deserve a garden tub in our bathroom. Or more kitchen cabinets than we can fill. A living room that can comfortably host our friends. Sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough for THIS promise:

..."In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you..." John 14:2 NIV84

Jesus Christ, raised in the home of a carpenter... likely taught the trade by his earthly father... Preparing a HOME for me... for you... for us... in His Father's Heavenly kingdom!

When I think about that... the tears flow just as they did the moment Jim said "I'm taking the bunk beds apart".

This is really happening. He is really preparing a place for us. As amazing as this new house is... it is nothing compared the the one He is preparing in eternity! Good enough? I did nothing to deserve this house. I can do nothing to deserve Heaven. It's all His grace. His beautiful, astounding, extraordinary, amazing GRACE. This is the Kingdom life He has promised us, the eternity He has prepared for us... to join Him where He is.

But until then... we find ourselves living in the {in between}. In that place of being in the world but not of the world. In that place of knowing that our real home is with God, and feeling like aliens and strangers here... hearts that reside in the Kingdom, bodies in the world.  Laying in your bed, in Aunt Sharon's house.  But don't think that this {in between} time is just a time of waiting... no, it's a time of taking down the bunk beds and moving them on into the Kingdom. It's bringing Kingdom Living to this earth through our lives. It's living the Promise, and inviting others to live it with us. At first... it's going to feel pretty weird. When you first move into the Kingdom, it might feel a lot like you are living in someone else's house, enjoying someone else's promise. But the more time you spend in the Kingdom, the more time you spend painting the walls of your heart with the Word, the more time you spend communing with family there, inviting friends over and feeding them from your table... the more it will begin to feel like home.

We have been in the new house for three weeks tonight. We are still figuring things out- like how much cold water to mix with the hot in the shower (you know how you have it dialed right in to that perfect temp after fifteen years in the same shower?) How many clothes it takes to make a full load in that giant washer and dryer. That one must only use a small (very small) amount of bubbles when adding them to a bathtub with jets. That we can sweep the kitchen floor a dozen times a day, and it's still going to get tracked on. Where the outlets are (all fifteen trillion of them, it's GLORIOUS). We have painted the kitchen, hung a few pictures, decorated the tops of the cabinets... left towels on the floor overnight. We have begun to settle in.  Bibles on tables. Photography stuff piled in the door. This is where we live. In this promise fulfilled.

Tali told me that a couple of nights ago, she was laying in bed reading a book when she just closed it, and lay there thinking "I have MY OWN ROOM. This is MINE."

It's still surreal. Part of me hopes that it always is. That I can always feel the wonder of a dream fulfilled by the only One able. That as I walk through this house, bumping into things in the dark, I will be reminded of what it's like to walk out of this world and into the Kingdom. Eventually I will be able to navigate with my eyes closed... oh that my heart would be so comfortable in the Kingdom living that I will be guided by my spiritual eyes rather than physical ones!  That the grandfather clock chiming would always be a reminder that He is an ON TIME GOD. That our family will be forever changed by His faithfulness, and that we should never, ever, ever forget how faith opened the door to this new home.

Lord, would you help us see the beauty of your Kingdom here on earth? in our hearts? Will you help us to live this {in between} life... aliens here longing for there... to the fullest glory of You? Will you remind us daily of our blessings, of our abundant life in you, of the things that really matter. Not houses, not paint, not pretty decor... but eternity spent in you. Letting your Kingdom reign in our hearts and in our homes... bringing it to our communities and the people who desperately need it the most. Thank you Father, for your faithfulness, for hearing our prayers, and for loving us so stinking much...

A few more pics for your viewing pleasure... bringing the Boyles' touch to a new house is fun. bringing your heart into the Kingdom is even better :)

t&z on our back deck the first day of school

a rare picture of zach painting. this lasted approximately ten minutes.

on the mantle. surreal.

kitchen decor. and that's our new-fangled chore sheet on the fridge
(used a sharpie for the lines, and dry erase marker for the rest so we don't have to print one every week)

just portion of our counter space- and this picture alone is more than we had in our entire kitchen at the old house.

above our sink so that we may never, ever forget

when normal becomes extraordinary

Last night I stayed up with most of America, much of the world, and all of Twitterdom to watch the Women’s Gymnastic Team take GOLD GOLD GOLD GOLD in the team all-around competition. Were you watching in amazement with the rest of us? Did you cry when the final scores hit the board?

Isn’t  it funny how year after year, we come to find ourselves on first name basis with the entire team?   I still remember routines by Mary Lou, Carly, Nastia, Shawn… and last night’s performances by Gabby, Jordan, Ally (and her parents), Kayla, and McKayla will go on the shelf of my Olympic memories with the others.  [What about THIS vault… seriously!?]

It was truly something to behold. The women… girls really… on the world’s stage.  A lifetime of training, sacrifice, and dreams come down to this moment.  Two minute routines on a spring floor. Fifteen second bursts of power from the vault.  A minute’s worth of gasps as they twirl around the uneven bars.  Three minutes of courage and poise atop that beam.

{to this day I can’t see a beam routine without thinking about THIS sermon illustration by Francis Chan, take a few minutes to watch it. I’ll wait.}

Last night as I questioned choices about hair [I'm a stickler for a proper pony tail or bun, folks], found myself wanting to meet the adorable little female coach, and marveled at one nearly flawless routine after another from the Fab Five… I was struck by one word they kept repeating to one another as each went up to do her part…

“Normal”.

Just do it normal. You don’t have to do anything supernatural or extraordinary or miraculous… because you have trained so hard, spent so much time in the gym, practiced this routine so many times that your normal has become extraordinary.

“Normal”… the word was comforting to the ears of this sixth member of the team (I cried like I was going to take the stand when they won, after all). “You don’t have to pull a trick out of your hat, Gabby… just do what you know how to do…”  Crazy release moves that look impossible to connect… that’s your normal. 

And I wondered…

If that isn’t what or faith walks should be like.

Walks where extraordinary leaps… are our normal. Where trusting God instead of clinging to the beam {did you watch that Francis Chan video? If not, go back and watch, we’ll pause the programming for ya} is our natural. Where we don’t have to pull any rabbits out of our hats because we have spent so much time in the Word, are so prayed up, and have practiced His presence enough that the supernatural becomes our normal and our normal has become extraordinary.

Where stopping to pray with a friend, right then and there is just what we do. Where laying hands on the sick and healing is the norm. Where God says “go” and we go. Or “wait” and we wait. When He asks us to give until it hurts and we actually do it. And then we see Malachi’s word come to pass in ourlives as glory and power pour out into us.

Where extraordinary ministries like Paul’s are birthed. He laid hands on people and they were healed. He was imprisoned and the chains just fell off. People would run home with bits of cloth he had prayed for because there was power and healing in them.

Ministries marked by obedience.  Ministries marked by having met God face to face. Ministries marked by changed lives. Ministries marked by being completely and 100% sold out to the cause of Christ.

You and I can have that too.  We can have lives where the extraordinary becomes our normal.

When we are willing to obey.

When we are willing to sacrifice.

When we are willing to really turn from sin.

When we are willing to be sold out for Him.

When we are willing to be in our Word. Every day.

When we are willing to pray without ceasing.

When we are willing to trust that He is enough. Our Divine spotter. And that even if we try, and fail… He will use that to grow and refine us.

I want that kind of ministry. I want that kind of life. I want signs and wonders and miracles and supernatural and extraordinary to become my normal.

But I am not  going to become an Olympian by sitting on my couch and wanting. And I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. I’ve been doing a lot of settling. And selfish living. And distraction.  It’s time to get this boat back on course.

It’s going to take work and sacrifice and obedience on my part. Like Gabby Douglas, it may mean leaving the comfort of everything I know to go deep into training for a year and a half (not seeing her mother a single time except for at meets…) 

Am I willing to give it all for Him?

Are you?

It may look differently than we expected, as little Jordan Weber discovered when cut from the Women’s All-Around Finals (which seems so, so, unfair…)

Am I willing to wipe the tears of disappointment from my cheeks and go to work for the team, the Body, the Bride… anyway?

Are you?

I want to live a life where “normal” looks a little like double lay out dismounts with a twist. Or aerials as high as my head. Or vaults that defy logic.  Where enormous leaps of faith are normal. Where miracles are normal. Where really TRUSTING Him is normal. Where normal has become extraordinary. 

Where normal is anything BUT normal.

[What about you? If you want to enter a season of training, of praying and seeking, with me... would you drop me a line? We'll figure out a way to set up a group... to hold one another accountable to deeper reliance on Him, bigger leaps, more extraordinary normals.] 

Father, help us to redefine our normal. Help us to have a faith that expects the extraordinary, and that trusts your will for our lives. Father… I confess that I have become distracted. I confess that I have not spent time with you, and Lord I long to change that. Would you help me? Would you send the conviction of your Holy Spirit to right my path? To turn my face toward you? Will you send along fellow athletes, Father, to work toward taking amazing leaps for you? I thank you for who you are, and for the way you can use one little word to refocus my life and my heart. I love you so much, Jesus… it’s in your name I pray… Amen.