Oh Come Home

A kid died on campus a few weeks ago. He went to the very top of the Rockhill parking garage, closest to the Einstein’s Bagels where I get my coffee every Tuesday and Thursday, and he jumped off. I can’t imagine what his body would have been like. Arms flailing about, positioning his hands towards the ground as if to catch himself—a natural reaction I would assume. Or maybe he was still, and peaceful and his body floated until it didn't any longer. I call him a kid because everyone is too young to die that way. I didn’t know him, but there is an ache in my heart that wish I did. If I knew him I could tell him how much the Lord loves him. How much He desires His child. I could tell him that things get better, that the loneliness doesn't have to last for ever. I wish my scream could catch him. I could pray for him and listen to him and reveal to him the Man that sits on the throne; the One who is coming back and erasing all that is evil and to establish a Kingdom where all sadness flees and tears are no more. But it’s too late now. He’s gone. And his family and friends are in a time of mourning. Probably beating themselves up believing they could have done better. But it’s not their fault. This tragedy I cannot get out of my head. Maybe its the fact that this death in this “college campus parking garage” style is not new. In fact I could write down a list of all the accounts I have heard this same situation. It's happened at every college I have attended. And that saddens me. This is a thing not worthy of a list. There should be no names, no lives lost, no stilled bodies on the side of parking garages. There is a Love too great and too powerful to just give up. 

I remember the time where those massive structures looked glamorous too. They were more than a place to park your car. They were a problem solver. All I needed to do was climb to the top floor where the sky is blue and the skyline of the city was all around. Where it was hushed, peaceful, and one step off that ledge permanently erased all problems. That is what I used to think. But this is false. Problems don't go away. They don't just stop at impact.  I weep for those that stopped fighting.  For those who got so tired they had leave. Oh the sweet resting inhabitant they left. 

The Garden reveals the love God has for His creation. In the cool of the garden the Lord dwelled among His people, pleasantly enjoying the company of their communion with Him. He gave them dominion over all, the holy and righteous freedom to live in the midst of His presence and feast on every tree of the garden, except for that of the knowledge of good and evil. For the Lord said that if they eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil they will surely die (Genesis 2:15-17). His goal was to keep them in shamelessness, in a righteous fervent love for their Beloved. I hear often the story of the Fall. So much focus is placed on Adam and Eve entering in sin. Where they broke the covenant, thus giving the serpent entrance into placing a curse over all of the Earth. And all of this is important and true. But what about the Face of God. Oh how His heart must have been grieved to see His own walk away from Him and deny His truth. Because that’s what is was. Adam and Eve’s decision was not just an expression of their free will, but a disbelief in His word, a rebellion against their Maker. The serpent said in Genesis 3:4-5, "You will surely not die for the lord knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened , and you will be like God knowing good and evil." It was the belief that they as the human race could live independent from the Highest of High. Man had taken advantage of the Lord's dominion believing his life was self-sustaining.  Oh how dangerous this is. God could have easily destroyed all that He created. He could have killed off Adam and Eve-- He’s the Lord, He can do anything. But instead He kept them; He let them live. Instead, God drove them out of the garden “lest he reach out his hand and take also of the tree of life and eat, and live forever” (Genesis 3:22). Life belongs in the hands of the Lord, and only His alone. This was not an act of rejection by the Lord that he sent them out, but one of sacrifice. He let man live, He sent Adam and Eve to work and multiply outside the Holy Land they once dwelt in with God so that one day He could sacrifice His son and restore His inheritance back to the Kingdom. His love is the underlying theme since the beginning of time. The Lord has been merciful to keep us. When the land once more turned from the reign of the Lord, God saved Noah’s family line because of his faithfulness (Genesis 6). When Moses, in unholy anger, murdered an Egyptian, the Lord healed and redeemed his soul through forgiveness (Exodus 2:11-12; Exodus 3). 

         Throughout the storyline of human history, man has consistently turned from the love of the Lord and yet with His gracious mercy He still whispers in the still of night, “oh come home, come back to me young child.” God is violently jealous for His people. He is more than God, more than Lord and King. He is the ultimate Father. He is the Maker who knitted each individual. the triune God in His lovingkindness sat down and dreamt me up and, in the same, the young kid who jumped. And the same for every person who's footsteps walk upon this Earth. Loneliness is not meant for us. Time and time again the Lord has showed His faithfulness to those that call upon His name. He wants His people to return, to look to the heavens and scream, with a broken and contrite spirit, desperation for His company and leadership. I pray that the banner of love will cover every wound across the earth. That no longer will there be bodies falling from garages leaving loud smacks. In every instance where someone does not feel heard, I pray that the Father’s everlasting commitment to His child will be revealed.  

My heart goes out to the family, wherever they may be, hoping that they find a peace in the serenity of the Lord’s kindness. Just as He did from the days of old, saving those with His endless mercy, He will do again for each one who call upon His name. Oh how beautiful our God is to beckon us home time and time again. There should be no lifeless at bottom of parking garages, no lives lost in this way. For our God looks down and screams for His beloved to hear Him.  I am certain that when that horrific sound is made and that breath ceased to inhale again, grief from Heaven cried out. Let this list not grow bigger. No longer shall men and women not know the love of the Father.

Tea + Jesus

I have recently found a love for hot tea. You could blame it on my mother or my British friend or even the holiday decorative tea boxes from Trader Joe’s. Who can pass up of polar bear wearing a red scarf? I sit here with my tea in a cup labeled tea (that I ironically drink coffee out of sometimes) and feel the most relaxed I have all day. It seems to calm me. To center me. The sweet peppermint scent seeps into my nose and everything awful that was called today leaves for just a moment. It’s a nice feeling and one that is far and few in between these days. See my day was not the best. It sucked actually. Yet it started out tasteful. My cup of coffee in the morning wasn't even burnt and I finally had a small ounce of energy to pick up the array of clothes piles that have accumulated on my bedroom floor. I have so many I can label each one to a particular day. I even broke out my singing voice somewhere other than the shower, belting the lyrics of my high school years. But the goodness stops there. As those notes stayed out of tune and the head bop increased so did the lovely sight of blue and red flashing lights in the rearview mirror of my car—again. This is when I wish I had and invisibility cloak. 

My weeks have melted into a lovely blob of blah. I am contemplating switching my major and that has led me to the most logical response any 22 year old Italian girl could have: a very exaggerated and overly dramatic groan followed by the belief that somehow this means life is over.  That everything I have done, that I have worked towards is ruined and wasted, never to recover. I find it humorous on the outside, but in the moment every part of my stress makes sense. For years I have had a plan. A step by step path of where my life will take me and what my career will look like. I will be the fun teacher, I will be out at 3pm each day and vacation June through August. I will be like peter pan. The girl who never grew up, the girl who never left school. It was going to be glorious. And now…now what? If I don't want to do that, what do I want to be? I feel it is too late for the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” My 3rd grade M.A.S.H games have already come and gone. I should know by now. But the funny thing is my plans, though I have them, constantly get interrupted by someone. His name is God and He's better at interrupting than a 3 year-old begging for ice cream. Except He does His interrupting with such love and kindness. All of my plans in the last 5 years have been shattered and replaced with His. And yet every time I fear He will not come through. How ignorant am I to test the abilities of our Jesus; the one that conquered death and came back to fight for His beloved. That is His mission—to have us. And for some reason in the chaos of my life I forget that He is here to lead me and all I have to do is follow blindly and take that leap. He says to me Your voice is sweet and your face is lovely. That is what My God, the creator of this Earth thinks about me. He wants to hear my voice, He wants to commune with me. Tonight we sung this truth over and over again in a multitude of choruses that reminded me just how much I am dependent on Him. I need Him in every part of my life. And when I have him there, life doesn't seem so impossible. 

The months of October and November have been to me like a school ground bully. To quote one of my quickly becoming favorite books, "I feel like I have been dropped like a hot pop-tart on the cold kitchen floor." But even if I'm dropped on the kitchen floor, have a run in with the law, forget what day it is, have nightmares of jerk customers, and not have a clue what major I want to be in everything is okay. Some may even say it is peachy keen. For there is a power higher than anything and everything and He has my heart and life in His hands. The tea may calm my energy level, but His truth washes over my fears. That is the relaxation I yearn for. My life can be in shambles--22 year-old version shambles and yet everything is okay. Everything is safe because He said so. As I sit at home in the silence, I can still hear His voice whisper His love in my ear and I want to know Him even more. He says come to me and let Me hear your voice. 

Chocolateless Whiteness

My thoughts on a Friday night:

I scream to the sky asking to be let out of this place. Four walls surround me like a box that height has no end. At least I think its a box.. it looks like it. It is cold, bland and white paint cover already white walls (a friend of mine would call it the fun and loving color). There are no windows, no doors and I am stuck standing in the center confused as to how I got here. I feel like I entered Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory as the little boy who shrunk himself into a television. He was in white too, but he had chocolate with him. I wish I had that. Instead I am alone (without chocolate), small, puny and feeling so weak. There is no one around and all I can see is a bright blue sky above me. It is day time, but I cannot see the sun. It must be somewhere else hanging out with people that are not in a box. I would be. Life is happening and I am here in this freaking box. Those selfish people. 

I take a giant breath of “white-box” air and scream towards the sky, to the One I call my Maker. My lungs fill and release with the sounds of desperation. My frustrations heighten, my throat stings and I desperately want to understand the meaning of this white box. I eventually sit in the corner. “Nobody puts baby in a corner” I mutter to myself. I put my frustration on pause to laugh at my movie reference and more so at the timing of it. As the world is moving, interacting, living I am surrounded by whiteness. Away from movement. Away from noise.  And I hate it; I don’t understand it. Here all of my fears lay—within these walls of isolation. Fears of being forgotten, of being bored.  Who will hear my voice, who will come to my rescue when my life is not as I expected it. The Earth is moving, people experiencing, and here I am stuck in the middle. Land locked. Box locked. 

I scream again, this time with words. Speaking to the big blue sky statements that end with question marks. My body shakes, my anger increases and the reality that none of it will help sets in. And so I stop and sit again; this time right in the middle.  Even if this did become home for awhile, it is so dull. There is no color, no excitement. The walls lack character and stand in blandness. If this be where I stay at least give me a colorful painting. Even a yellow couch would due.

I scream to Him once more. And then He speaks. His voice takes away my breath more than the incessant screaming I’ve been filling my lungs with. He speaks and peaces wafts over, yet my settings have not changed. I’m still in this stupid box. 

“Why me?” I ask. 

His melodious sounds come together to say, “Will you still love me even in this place. When everything seems dull and boring? Will you still turn to that blue sky and speak to me?Oh how I love to hear your voice. Your weak desperation to understand. Heaven moves when you look towards me. My heart shakes and your sound is like an orchestra. Oh please do not cease to yell to the sky. Do not silent your voice from me for I love it”

“But Lord,” I speak calmly for the first time since being in this white room, “Why have you placed me in this place, where is the promise of freedom?” 

“Does your faith just stand when your heart is comfortable? Or will you stay in the midst of white walls and still chase after me. My love is bigger than environment. Than circumstance. It is more beautiful than any painting you can hang on these walls. Hold onto my love and I will satisfy your desires. I will take you places. I am freedom. I am Love. I am the end. You need not look farther.  If you stayed in this box forever would you still love me? If these white walls surrounded you until the end would your heart still reach for me and will your voice still sing beauty to my ears? How strong is your faith my daughter? How much is your love for me?” 

There is only one way to look: up

I must stand in the midst of the whiteness where the air is fresh, the distractions are few and the chocolate is not to be found. Lord let me be found loving You in the midst of a chocolateless whiteness. 

Faith Overpowers the Insane

At dinner tonight a group of my friends discussed the necessity of faith. If one were to pick up the Book of Revelation, without any faith, he or she would think all who followed it's writings were absolutely crazy. In fact many already do. And sometimes I even do too. I am waiting for a Jewish man to come out of the sky, clean the Earth of all unrighteousness and bring His city. WHAT! Who believes this stuff. I do. We do. We believe that one day all things will be beautiful and our bodies will be made new; the corruption of this earth will vanish and we will meet with the One every person was created for. Faith is what leads our hearts to endure the process of laying down our lives. It is only in faith that we stay in this upside down, backwards calling. 

Jesus always knew He would leave His home and the Father always knew he would kill His son. This story is crazy. Romans 5:7-8 says, "For one will scarcely die for a righteous person-though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die- but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."  Jesus came down to save every soul from death. He, for some time, was made lower than the angels so that He may live next to the very men that despised him. He was hated and yet He still died for us. The world did not know who he was. They did not know His plan. He came in love for His people, to shepherd them back to His dwelling place, but they led Him to the slaughter. This truth leaves me unraveled--every single time. This is the a God that we have faith for. The one that gave it all. Without faith we will fall away from the kindness of this Man. 

The Gospels tell of a woman Jesus came in contact with while walking to the house of the ruler of the synagogue. Luke 8:42-48: 

"...As Jesus went [through the city], the people pressed around him. 43 And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and though she had spent all her living on physicians, she could not be healed by anyone.44 She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his garment, and immediately her discharge of blood ceased.

45 And Jesus said, "Who was it that touched me?" When all denied it, Peter said, "Master, the crowds surround you and are pressing in on you!"46 But Jesus said, "Someone touched me, for I perceive that power has gone out from me."47 And when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling, and falling down before him declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed.48 And he said to her, "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace."

This woman had nothing. She was a nobody in society. For years she had strived for  health. Gave everything she had to physicians, but no remedy could save her. She was ashamed, humiliated, utterly despised by her own. She had every reason to hate the world, to hate God. Instead she stood in faith and in a last desperate effort for freedom reached for the hem of the garment of the One that stitched her very flesh--instantly she was healed. Verse 47 reveals that the woman came falling down at His feet trembling. She was not bold and mighty in appearance. She wasn't like a gladiator upon a horse ready for war. She was a feeble woman who had nothing left. She was weak, broken, desperate for healing and in that walked in faith for freedom.And what does Jesus do as he looks down on this "disgrace" to society. He says, "daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace." When we encounter that power, that love, nothing else can compare. When we feel the love of The Lord all else subsides and all we want is more of Him. Even the hem of his garment far outweighs any other lover. Nothing can satisfy like the touch of our own Creator.

This encounter is what gives us the faith to believe and His sacrifice is what stirs us to want to. When we just touch the hem of his garment we are forever ruined and nothing else satisfies. When we come in contact with the living God there is no other option but to fully follow His leadership. When He sacrifices His life I give Him mine. When He says forget all other lovers I say "take me Lord, I want to rest with You." And When He writes that He will return on a white horse out of the clouds and every knee will bow I say,"I will wait for you Lord." Because what else is there. Though there will be locusts with golden crowns and women's hair; though the water will turn to blood and millions will die, I stand in allegiance with the living God. I say yes to Him.My faith is set in an insane plan. My life is given to a Man that actually raised from the dead. It is weird. But it keeps my heart alive. Because even a small breath of His love or the hem of his garment has the power to take over all skepticism. If I only see Him for a moment it is worth the fight to find Him again and seek out His dwelling place. We need faith stay because without it the human brain cannot conceptualize it. 

Teach me how to walk steadily in Your ways. Continuing to forsake all other lovers and cling to You alone. Though I am weak I will prevail in Your strength because I am Yours. 

Oh the beauty of Jesus. Tis so sweet to trust in Him. 

Hanging on a Tree

As I close my eyes I watch the day True Love died—

Dark and somber the heavens of the earth hid the shining of the sun. The world does not know what is about to take place; they dance and twirl in the naivety of their flesh. Men blaspheme against His name, rejecting His kindness and yet He still presses on. I see the blood dripping as He takes each step; smeared by the corner of the wooden cross dragging behind, painfully carried on His raw back. They made Him look like ground beef and yet He keeps walking. I come into the knowledge of what is about to happened and I begin to weep. Louder and louder I reach for Him. God made Man, who has the power to obliterate every breathing soul instead chooses to live in flesh and pain achingly crawls to His death.  The procession of people stop. We are here, atop the hill that will forever be marked as the setting of Love poured out. A hush comes over the earth and every flesh and bone wait upon the silence of this Jewish man disconnected to the truth that He is their Maker. The cross is laid, the metal pierces through His hands, God made flesh now pinned to the wooden pieces of a tree that He at one time created. The blood of Sacrifice drips down and the sound of each drop hitting the ground rings in my ear. How can this happen? How can the One that gave me life die so cruelly? I cannot stand this. I cannot bear this injustice. 

My hands catch the drops of His blood as I sit at the foot of His cross. Dramatically aching for Him to not leave. The Creator of all, the King of kings, Lord of lords, the Incarnate that left His Holy dwelling to be born of a young Jewish woman in a smelly, dirty stable is now dying an unlawful death between two thieves. Flesh being torn from His body, pointed at and ridiculed. This holy man now hangs on a cross and there is nothing I can do, nothing I can say that will stop it. “This is how it must be, this must take place," He whispers, gazing at my painfully regretful face. The fear in my heart purges out and I fall to the ground wanting to just touch Him. I crawl on my knees attempting to get closer, but it feels too late. Did I miss You Jesus? Did I miss Your presence?He looks at me with a stare that is unlike anything I have ever seen before. Pain and sorrow, joy and conquer intricately woven together behind the eyes that will one day be enflamed with fire. —“I will return for you. I will come again to behold you. I will take away pain and tears,”—I lock eyes and cannot move. 

You are hanging on that tree for me. You are feeling the fullness of Your flesh to fulfill the prophesy of Your righteous and Holy plan. Dying a human death so that I may dwell in Your house all the days of my life. This deed is overwhelms me. Your love overtakes me and I cannot breathe. Choked by the beauty of Your sacrifice. Oh Jesus how You wholly and violently love me. With Your death I am made alive. And you made it to be that way. You have saved me. You have saved all of us. When we could not see, You knew. When we walked in the footsteps of foolishness You patiently waited for us to turn the other way. When we desired Your death, You selflessly sacrificed Yourself so that we may forever gaze into those eyes. On the cross You cry to Your father, “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.” You ask the Him for forgiveness on behalf of Your torturers. “I love you,” You scream and no one cares to listen. Oh God here I am to hear You. Here I am to worship at Your feet. I put my trust in You. I say yes to You. At the sound of Your last breaths I fall once more and give You everything I am. I will give you myself Lord. I will rest in Your sacrificing presence. Your death is not in vain. Your resurrection is the assurance of Your second coming; You will come back to have your inheritanceMy sins are forgiven and I rejoice in my new birth. Because of your death I am made alive. Because of your resurrection I will meet You again. Because of Your resting place on the holy throne I can feel You now, I can hear Your voice, experience Your emotions until that day You come back to dwell forever with Your beloved. 

The final hour comes and His last breath is expensed. Every emotion consumes me and I am left speechless, looking at the lifeless body, catching the blood of my Redeemer, every drop overtaking my sinful being and washing me whiter than snow.

I See Strings: Results of Sunday Night in the Prayer Room

Just as You hang the stars in the night sky You hold up my very being. Like a puppet I move at Your every word. Clinging as a bee does to its honey, though You are sweeter. Where would I be if You had not caught me, if You had not attached me to Yourself and intricately maneuvered me through every sunrise and sunset. I am your Rose of Sharon and You my morning star and the banner over me is love. We sing, say, preach, these things, but do we really believe it? Do I really believe it? Do I actually believe that when I talk Your heart moves. That when I gaze up at You things in Heaven shake. Oh what love You have for me that You would puppeteer a wretched child like me. 

I look out into the city abyss and see the world attached with strings to the heavens. Each one of Your creations You guide throughout life without fault or missed steps—forever unchanging. Why do You do it God? I must know. I must know how You can love us! How You can look over the balcony, peer into this darkened age, and yet still come for us. Strong like a lion and compassionate as a sheep, You never turn away Your eyes. You never run from Your beloved. As we each day only give you a piece of ourselves You wrap us in all of You. 

I look at the myriad of these strings across this earth, connected every which way—spiraling and crossing and some even zig-zagging—and my heart aches at the size of your love. Even the strings of those who completely deny Your presence are still attached. You still carry them in Your arms patiently waiting for the day their eyes meet Yours. How I cannot even begin to imagine how it feels to have your masterpiece stripped from You. The very ones you blew life into slander Your name, but You keep Your arms open. “Come to me” You say, and yet they do not move towards You. But You still stay. 

Ahh yes, we move You, I move You. I look to the heavens and sing, with my strings intact and my heart open to receive Your love and I know my choice is rightly made. I do not know why, but as my eyes fall on your glorious abode I know that its intensity overwhelms You. I can feel my strings become tighter as I release more of myself to You, but it is a tightness of freedom. I let go and You perfectly guide me. I give up and You rejoice as you passionately scream in my ear, “finally You are here at rest.” Chaos leaves, stress dissipates, and my body is left fully feeling last Thursdays nights ab workout—I’m alive. With my strings attached to the Heavens I look at my at my Beloved and fall down over the beauty of His perfected puppeteer skills and the undying desire to have His inheritance in this Earth.