christianity

To Hear You Breathe

I come in just about every morning and listen, listen. You don’t know it but I come in so I can hear you breathe. It makes me feel a peace inside, a calm assurance that you are here. Then, on the heels of that, I feel the sting and loss of what it would be like if you weren’t. Like a cavern it grows inside me from some dark place that remains hidden. It nips at my soul’s heels like a reminder of how fleeting it all is. This waking life. I feel the whole creation longing for redemption……release from the curse we’ve put on ourselves. 

Every blade, every leaf, every tree whispers it through the air. Animals and humans alike, desperate for food in a parched land, orphans aching for the mother they once knew. So much suffering. Everyone knows something has gone terribly wrong and everyone pitches in their two cents, wondering what the fix is. Because we are human, and we don’t give up so easily we use different and ingenious ways to patch up the gaping hole in our maimed creation.

We wait for the wrongs to be righted. Because we know they must. We see the heartache flashing across our screens, snapshots of someone else’s grief. Our minds scarcely have time to deal with what we just saw and then comes the next, worse than the first. We live in a world that breathes in life and death, and sometimes in the same moment.

You told me how you prayed for the chicks at the Farm store. That they would have a good life. Oh my gosh it makes me cry and think how wonderful you are. How blessed I am beyond measure to have you. How much easier life would be if everyone had a best friend to soften the blows of this life.

Each morning, I long for that quiet place where I can hear from God again. I seek it but can’t quite find it against the backdrop of noise. But there is this. When I open your Book, I am comforted once again. I open it and feel eternity, life, wholeness there. I cling to the hope and knowledge of its rightness, for in between its pages there is the breath of the Holy Spirit. I don’t even have to flip to the back, I know the ending.

No matter what happens in this life, God already completed the master stroke when He said, “IT is finished.” The “It” in this instance is everything. The whole long story from creation to the end of all things. 

Redemption for creation happened in one terrible magnificent instant, making all things new when He rose from the grave. Breaking chains of all kinds forever. The old dead oak standing in the field laughs and starts to bud, the cows run out of the gate to fresh grass, no more slaughterhouse for them. Thorns grow soft and bloom. No humans or animals wake with hunger pains ever again. We all eat kale, except Heaven’s kale will taste like nothing we’ve ever had before. No one kills or dies ever again. And contagious laughter will forever ring through the halls of Heaven.

And the little will chicks peep for joy. 

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” Revelation 21:3,4

Coming Home

“Those who live in the shadow of the most high will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.’ Psalm 91:1-2

It’s been so long since I’ve been here that I feel as if I have crept into the back door of my childhood home, letting myself in with the spare key. I can almost hear the creak of the screen door. I actually did do a recording of that squeak once, not wanting to forget what it sounded like. I drive by there from time to time to check on my brother’s rental that was put in the trust when he died, since its about 3 doors down.

The explanation for why I haven’t been here. I guess it’s just that the words haven’t come, not for lack of things happening in and outside of my life but for lack of thinking that any of it matters to anyone else. I tell myself it’s all part of the journey of writing. I hear people talk about it, the silence. I guess there is a place for it, otherwise why the 400 years of silence between Isaiah and the New Testament?

I recently started a Bible Study that I’m really enjoying. My childhood friend invited me and it’s held at a small Baptist Church that reminds me of church the way it used to be. We gather together in the sanctuary with the leader ( a little 4’11” dynamo) with a sparkle in her eyes and her spirit and a humble heart. We sing a hymn (from an actual hymnal) then she prays for us and we are released into our small groups and work through our study with a leader. We then meet back in the main hall where Pam goes through all our questions with a final lecture. I find myself looking forward to each lesson. I feel it bubbling through me like living water.

Getting back to the theme of home, where I think this is all going. Anytime we delve into Scripture, it’s a bit like coming home all over again. That is, if we put a bit of work into it. And this actual home we moved into, oh my friends, we are enjoying it so much. Eight years of living in a very small space does a number on you. For those who forgot or didn’t know, when we moved back here, we lived on my aunt’s property on the Mokelumne River. (Click on link to see) It fed my nature loving soul and it was a beautiful setting for sure. That part of it I miss but it was so restrictive in many ways. (And tiny) Constant worry over maintenance of an older RV and 50-year-old trees falling among other things and we were done.

So, we are home. This is the final resting place this side of Heaven unless there is an earthly purgatory in the form of a care home (God forbid). Not being able to care for yourself is a real downside of getting older. As my aunt says (she’s 92 now) “It’s not for sissies.”

It’s kind of weird how God and life work if you pay attention. About 40 years ago I came to this very same mobile home park. I went out on a spiritual limb and said yes to God (it was actually my aunt and uncle) but the much bigger yes is the one I said to God when he asked me to sing with their small group. ( A solo with canned background music) To this day I’m not sure why I said yes. Singing a solo was about as far from my personality as it gets. But He came through for me then and He has never left my side. All these years later, here I am and here He is.

So thank you for anyone here still reading and caring. The kittens we got from the Balam Foundation in Mexico are thriving. Atticus has attached himself to me and Scout has made Elaine his mama. Of course, we love them both equally. Needless to say, there will be no Christmas trees inside this year. We got some decorations up and I found Santa on the ground this morning with a few small parts missing. So far that is the only casualty. And for the first time in 9 years, we are cooking a turkey for Thanksgiving. Life is good friends. Most importantly God is good.

If you are still here, thank you for slogging along with me. I hope you and yours have a very Blessed Thanksgiving this year from my humble Prayer Closet……Peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Lori