With Arms Wide Open

"I will follow You." "Break my heart for what breaks Yours." "Send me." There are words you can't unsay. There are prayers you can't take back. And there are things I can't unsee and things I can't unknow. Would I still have followed so hard after You if I had known where You were going? Would I have begged for Your broken heart if I had known the cost? Would I have asked to be sent to the places I have been? Would i have said yes? I find myself on uneven, holy ground- feet scorched and blistered, wondering how much further I have to walk. Wondering how much more this will cost me. Wondering how much more I have to lay down. Is this how Abraham felt when what You required was his child?   God, why do the holy things have to be so hard? When you said to count the cost before beginning the work (Luke 14:25-34), how could i have ever considered or estimated?  How would i know that it would be lost sleep... lost meals... lost fa...

It's not very often I spend much time with my own wishful thinking.  (out loud, anyway.) But for today.  For today, I will be wishful.  Today I will load up everything I own, pack up the hubs, and move to California with all of my people.  Yes, you.  Today, we are going on an adventure.  Today we are going to be stowaways on a Navy aircraft carrier.  Today, we are going to follow my big brother to the ends of the earth.   Today I wish my arms were oceans.  Oceans that wore my blue from the inside out.  Oceans that rob distance.  Oceans that could hug you without breaking.  I wish my arms were oceans that could carry you far away and home.    Today I wish my biggest hopes and dreams for you on my Daddy God's feet.  That you would be safe.  Warm.  Happy.  That four years would pass quickly.  That no matter how far away you go you won't feel far away.  That we would mi...

What if men and women were equal? It's the question we're tackling.  And in the classroom, it has a predetermined end. That's OK.  I know the ultimate predetermined ending, so I can stand on this. But it's there in my heart, longing for answers... that burning question that only He can answer.  What was on Your heart when You made her?  What did You see when You said, "It is good"?  What was it like for her... to walk in perfect communion with You?  How did she stand it... the weight of knowing You... of knowing with perfect clarity that she was fearfully and wonderfully made?  What was it like to be before You as she was?  What kind of woman was she... this dream of Your heart?  This first of us?  What did feminine look like to You? I will study these theories late into the night.  But it's Your heart I long to know. Does it hurt You that we are so divided??  Does the weight of our expectations toward one another...

In my heart, I am a runner... just like you would expect. I flee from the things that make me uncomfortable. "She wasn't iron when I met her, but she sure is now."  A flinch and a flight.  "That was a beautiful prayer."  Hedge and run.  "You have such a gift."  Beat feet like Fred Flintstone. How many times will I turn my back on what You did without ever pointing to You??  I can't reconcile or wrap my mind around words of encouragement and love.  After all, I know me.   There I am, at the bottom of the spiritual pile. And that anyone would see You and mistake Your work for anything I have done... I run from that.  Cheetah style. Last month, I was blessed to hear a teaching on Peter on the radio.  Let me just say, I am so stinking grateful that Jesus loved Peter.  I have a lot of Pauls in my life.  I need to read about Peter every once in a while to avoid being crippled by spiritual envy. Peter walked on water... a...

You're going to think I'm completely arrogant when you read this.  Obviously by now, I am deeply concerned with what you think of me. (That sounded cavalier, but really , I wish I could care a little less.) But here's my take on things: There are entire sections of the Bible that did not even exist before I discovered them. No, really. Sometimes, it's something completely soothing, like how good and perfect He is in the face of all that I am not .  Sometimes it's something bold, like a declaration of His capability .  Sometimes, it is something I desperately need, like a promise of what He is going to do .  Sometimes, it is a reminder, like an alarm clock He sets off in my heart .  Sometimes, it's something that I've read a thousand times before, but He grants me fresh eyes to see . Bits and pieces of Words that cut away the parts of me that don't belong to Him.  Like today. Like today when scripture appeared out of thin air....

Maybe you can look at me and see the chasm.  Maybe that brokenness is evident.  Maybe you can see the scar. Maybe you recently met me, and you found it hard to believe that this fledgling woman has already lived an entire life... and she's still just getting started. Maybe you had been walking with me before The Great Divide, and I left you on the other side.  Rest assured, I will come back for you. I believe that the Lord can change a person right where they are.  I believe He does. But I also believe sometimes He does something radical.  Sometimes He does something unbelievable.  Sometimes He makes something so new... something so wholly different... something unrecognizable.  Just.because.He.can.  Just because He heard the cry of people you had never even met that were praying for you... and neither of you even knew it.  I imagine that from the outside looking in... it would be easy to misunderstand it... easy to miss it... Oh, ...

This woman stood up in a high school auditorium... and it was like she spilled all of my secret thoughts to six hundred women. She's so chill.  I'm not even kidding.  She let me hug her.   And at the end of this conference that we had in a local school where she spilled all of my secrets and people took off their shoes to give to the homeless and women loaded up canned goods for missions and two foundations took home ALL of the money raised over the weekend to care for orphans here in the U.S. and there in Africa... all I can do is build an altar with the rubble in my heart... and slide my yes card slowly across the table. (face down so my husband can't read it.)