A New Beginning

This blog chronicles, in part, my journey through the dark night. In the midst of loss and pain, I struggled to know God, to even want to know him. But, in his grace, the Hound of Heaven followed me through the winding paths of my dark night with "unhurrying chase, and unperterbed pace."  He pursued me and brought me out of the dark night. His " Beauty and Love Chase[ed] after me, all the days of my Life!" (Psalm 23)

I'm thankful for the dark night. I'm thankful for the loss, rejection and pain because they brought me face-to-face with the God who Pursues.

So, I am beginning afresh with a new blog and new focus, but am leaving up this small window into my journey because it has been helpful to others, and I pray that it will continue to be.

May we all grow in grace as we seek the one who pursues us through the dark night and brings us to the Light.

The Glory of Messy Days

It all began at breakfast with three boys scarfing oatmeal down their gullets, talking about getting school done fast so they could play football in the basement. Middle brother quipped to older brother, “I’m better than you at math,” and older brother challenged, “well, I can read better,” and little brother piped in, “I can read too,” and big brothers laughed at little brother saying, “you can’t read at all,” and the one-upping ramped up until somehow—no one really knows how—the old-fashioned pencil sharpener sitting on the table with a black belly full of wood dust upended in a bowl of oatmeal. Pencil dust coated slimy oats as the bowl tipped over, spilling grey-streaked porridge onto the yellow tablecloth.

I stared at oatmeal sludge oozing off the table onto carpet and asked myself: “So, just what does it look like, in this moment, to live out Jesus In me?” I knew yelling, “what were you thinking?!” at the frozen faces in front of me wasn’t the answer (I’d tried that before!), so I barked, “Don’t touch it! Go get your schoolwork while I clean it up!”  

But one mess just led to another.

Big brother teased screechy little sister while I tried to teach middle brother that “aw does not say ew.” Then little brother picked his boogers and bled crimson droplets across the carpet while little sister front-flipped over the couch onto her back and didn’t stop wailing for half an hour. When I finally sat down during “rest time,” a loud crash, tinkling glass, and little brother screaming, “It was an accident! It was an accident!” shattered my momentary peace.

So now, at the end of this messy day, I return to my question: “what does it mean to live out Jesus In Me?” How does the truth of “I am with you always” change me from the inside out?

I used to think Jesus In Me meant he’d inspire super-spiritual strategies like, “When Angry, Count to Ten.” But counting to ten before disciplining the kid drawing on the wall with a Sharpie just plugged the flow of nasty words and failed to reach the source—my sinful heart.

I’ve learned over the years that my heart, bent on self-sufficiency, is often blind to the true power of Jesus In Me.

But Jesus—rich in grace—transforms me from the inside out by helping me see.

Jesus opens the eyes of my heart to see Him, and seeing Him changes how I see everything.

  

Jesus in Me is the greatest gift, and seeing his beauty isn’t a choice I make, it’s a gift He gives.

So, on messy days when I’m blind to Jesus in Me, blind to his beauty, my prayer is this: “Jesus, help me see you! “

Because seeing the beauty of Jesus transforms even the messiest days into Glory. 

“One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek;

that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life

 to gaze on the beauty of the Lord,

 and to seek him in his temple. ”

(Psalm 27:4).

The Glory of Messy Days

It all began at breakfast with three boys scarfing oatmeal down their gullets, talking about getting school done fast so they could play football in the basement. Middle brother quipped to older brother, “I’m better than you at math,” and older brother challenged, “well, I can read better,” and little brother piped in, “I can read too,” and big brothers laughed at little brother saying, “you can’t read at all,” and the one-upping ramped up until somehow—no one really knows how—the old-fashioned pencil sharpener sitting on the table with a black belly full of wood dust upended in a bowl of oatmeal. Pencil dust coated slimy oats as the bowl tipped over, spilling grey-streaked porridge onto the yellow tablecloth.

I stared at oatmeal sludge oozing off the table onto carpet and asked myself: “So, just what does it look like, in this moment, to live out Jesus In me?” I knew yelling, “what were you thinking?!” at the frozen faces in front of me wasn’t the answer (I’d tried that before!), so I barked, “Don’t touch it! Go get your schoolwork while I clean it up!”  

But one mess just led to another.

Big brother teased screechy little sister while I tried to teach middle brother that “aw does not say ew.” Then little brother picked his boogers and bled crimson droplets across the carpet while little sister front-flipped over the couch onto her back and didn’t stop wailing for half an hour. When I finally sat down during “rest time,” a loud crash, tinkling glass, and little brother screaming, “It was an accident! It was an accident!” shattered my momentary peace.

So now, at the end of this messy day, I return to my question: “what does it mean to live out Jesus In Me?” How does the truth of “I am with you always” change me from the inside out?

I used to think Jesus In Me meant he’d inspire super-spiritual strategies like, “When Angry, Count to Ten.” But counting to ten before disciplining the kid drawing on the wall with a Sharpie just plugged the flow of nasty words and failed to reach the source—my sinful heart.

I’ve learned over the years that my heart, bent on self-sufficiency, is often blind to the true power of Jesus In Me.

But Jesus—rich in grace—transforms me from the inside out by helping me see.

Jesus opens the eyes of my heart to see Him, and seeing Him changes how I see everything.

  

Jesus in Me is the greatest gift, and seeing his beauty isn’t a choice I make, it’s a gift He gives.

So, on messy days when I’m blind to Jesus in Me, blind to his beauty, my prayer is this: “Jesus, help me see you! “

Because seeing the beauty of Jesus transforms even the messiest days into Glory. 

“One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek;

that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life

 to gaze on the beauty of the Lord,

 and to seek him in his temple. ”

(Psalm 27:4).