In Fields of Reflection

Emotions run raw and painful
just below the surface of my skin:
now prickling with intensity, now barely perceptible…
yet always lurking,
rearing their head in unexpected moments
like a sudden gust of wind,
a thorn pricking my flesh,
glass shattering on the hard ground.

Breaking the silence,
they beg to be released.
Yet distraction is what I have continued to choose:
anything to prevent me
from quieting my mind,
as if avoiding thoughts of you
will somehow spare me
from finally having to say goodbye.

But today I feel beckoned
to summon my courage
and wander
into fields of reflection;
to allow my heart to break
as I embrace the reality
that I will never see you again
this side of heaven.

I can still hear your whispered, “I love you,”
the phone held to your lips
just hours before you left us.
My mind replays
our last hurried embrace,
that sparkle in your eye,
your tender smile,
despite your own pain and suffering.

Always hopeful,
ready to encourage,
looking beyond yourself.
This was your greatest gift to me
(though you gave
so many,
so freely;
could I ever count them all?)

It is that part of you
that will always live on in me;
a sweet reflection
of God’s own heart:
as Father and Mother,
nurturing,
building up,
speaking life.

And now,
at last
as I linger here
in these fields of reflection,
I understand
that yes –
it is a place of weeping,
of releasing.

But it is also a space
for gathering and cherishing,
celebrating,
and being thankful;
for drinking deeply
from the cup that you poured for me
over and over again
throughout my life.

So goodbye for now,
and may we meet again soon
in fields of reflection.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
^{Psalm 147:3}

O Essencial

Saí de casa
para comprar alguns “essenciais”
mas minha alma
deu um desvio
E me achei
respirando
aquele ar salgado
dançando na areia
salpicando nas ondas
rindo
vivo
regenerando
e relembrando
o que é
verdadeiramente essencial

What Is Truly Essential

I left the house
to buy some “essentials”
but my soul
took a detour
I found myself
breathing in that salty air
dancing in the sand
splashing in the waves
laughing
living
regenerating
and remembering
what is truly essential

My Delight, My Song

Photo by Nicolás Torres – http://www.jnicolastorres.com

My hunger for you is insatiable
Ever before me, like a whisper on my tongue
And you hear it, even before it is given utterance

Though my heart is prone to wander
Easily distracted, struggling to focus
Your thunderous voice breaks through

Sharp as an arrow
Yet tender as the touch of a child
Surrounding me, filling me with rapture

Where can I run from your presence?
Light that pierces my darkness
Joy flooding my parched soul

Your love is better than life itself
My every cell celebrates your goodness
Praise you, Jesus, forever and ever!

Inspired by my awesome God through Psalms 63 and 139, the Bible

 

The Anchor for My Soul

Sometimes we feel like a boat on dry ground. We know our purpose is to sail, yet the tide has gone out and we’re unable to float. We feel trapped, off kilter, abandoned, alone.

I’m so grateful that my life isn’t based on emotions which, while beautiful, cannot be trusted—leading us to soar over mountaintops one moment, and precipitate down pathways of doom in the next.

With Jesus as my rock, I can see beauty in the midst of desolation; I know He is the Master of the Sea, and the tide will come in again in due time. In His time.

And while I may be momentarily stranded, I still have my landing place in Him. The ground beneath this vessel’s often creaking boards is solid and unmovable.

That sweet, salty aroma in the air reminds me of His presence – ever within my reach, moved by the cry on my lips.

I want to be unshakeable, more like my Father every day.

Teach me, Lord…

My soul finds rest in God alone;
my salvation comes from him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress,
I will never be shaken.
Psalm 62:1-2

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.
Hebrews 6:19

Your Secret Garden

I feel a tender breeze caress my cheek
as you gently whisper in my ear,
“Come away with me to deeper places!”

I sense the still coolness in the sacred well
that you’ve been digging within me as decades pass,
where holy, life-giving waters dwell.

You transform my pain into beauty, collecting every tear,
returning them to me as so many wild flowers
swaying in the wind on that verdant hillside
where you wait for me.

Selah

The Grit of Resurrection

Far from the fluffiness of bunnies and chicks, and the delicate pastel shades of tulips often seen as symbols of Easter, what we celebrate today is the grittiest, most radical event in the history of mankind. Jesus Christ willingly gave His life for each one of us, was brutally battered, carried the weight of all our failings and darkest intentions, allowing Himself to be humiliated and nailed to a cross. And then, so incredibly, he kicked evil and death in the face, returning to life from the depths of hell – for me, for you. And every day, we who know Him, experience the repercussions of that unparalleled victory.

Today, I’ve been reflecting on the Son of God and the grit He demonstrated. On the loneliness of a death that even His most intimate followers clearly misunderstood. And the rawness of His resurrection. There were no crowds gathered expectantly, cheering Him on when he reappeared on this earth—so similar in its humility to the moment he was born. It was never about a grandiose display of glory, though it rightfully could have been. Christ knew what He had done, and He simply returned to those who had walked with Him, and declared it.

I long for a deeper revelation of what was accomplished on that day, so long ago. I know the depths of it are so much more profound than what I have thus far grasped. If I truly understood it in all its beauty, I’m quite sure I would never question Him again—never doubt His ability to accomplish all that He has promised.

I meditate on that crazy-extravagant verse, that so blows my mind:

The Spirit of God, who raised Jesus from the dead, lives in you.
And just as God raised Christ Jesus from the dead,
He will give life to your mortal bodies
by this same Spirit living within you. 
Romans 6:10-11

JUST as God raised Christ Jesus from the dead, He will give life to our bodies! In that same way that the Father tore free death’s cold fingers that gripped His Son, He will restore life to us—even when the grave itself seems to be our most persistent stalker.

My Lord Jesus, show me the fullness of your resurrection victory!

 

Hoping Against Hope

Ninety-nine point nine days of the week, I choose hope.

During these past several decades of living by faith in a God who is a good and faithful Father, and has continually proven Himself so, I have come to know I can have full confidence in Him. He is who He says He is, and He will do all that He has promised, no matter how my circumstances may appear.

But today, as I mark thirty days spent mostly in bed, too weak and exhausted to leave our house and land (except for a couple doctor’s visits), I’m having one of those rare days in which despair keeps tugging at my shirt-tails, whispering in my ear.

I’ve had those brief periods of feeling a bit better – yesterday I was able to get out in the sunshine and weed a bit of the garden for half an hour – but it’s been impossible to make any plans that involve going anywhere or exerting sustained energy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Still, as strange as it may sound to you, there is an odd beauty in the rawness that overwhelms me. It’s difficult to describe to anyone who hasn’t experienced suffering over long periods of time, yet I often return to meditate on this mystery. When we allow ourselves to feel it, right there in the midst of our deepest pain and darkest despair, there is an ache – a yearning for our God and that perfectly intimate relationship with Him – that is so profoundly felt.

That relationship that I was created for. That you were created for.

Yet throughout our days, we frantically fill the yawning void within us with busyness, with human relationships, with “stuff” that briefly gratifies, with white noise. We don’t want to feel the depths of the ache. And how incredibly deep it is!

When I have these days where I am at the end of myself, and no “feeling of hope” rises up within me; when all my fight is spent and my little box of “secrets to coping” is empty, that mystery comes alive. Like a wound whose scab has been picked away, the sheer sting of it exposes my nakedness.

I am nothing without Jesus.

And though many will declare healing and wholeness over me, and I too will not abandon my hope in the One who has promised, there is a beauty in this very raw place.

Have you ever felt it?

I think about Abraham.
“In hope, against hope, he believed…” (Romans 4:18)
“Without becoming weak in faith, he contemplated his own body, now as good as dead…” (Romans 4:19)

When we examine our circumstances – the hopelessness of our situation, the very appearance of death where the Father has proclaimed life – it is there that we discover a hope that defies explanation. A hope that, against all probability, is grounded in confidence in His divine promise.

So today, as I feel the ache in my soul, I am grateful. For when I sink to the depths of my own brokenness, it is there that I encounter Jesus in a way that those whose lives flow along quite smoothly may never experience. To me, it is a wonderful grace – a mysterious gift that continues to transform me.

Awesome are His ways and I will never stop praising Him.

Goodbye Ole Girl!

Yesterday, after over eight years in a deeply intimate relationship, I said goodbye to our old motorhome.

If you know me well,

you’ve probably noticed

that I’m not the overly sentimental type

when it comes to

material things.

While I deeply cherish
all the beauty
(and the challenges!)
of what has been
and has contributed
to making me
who I am,
I’m more about living
in the now
and looking forward
with expectation.

I love seeing
all that God is doing
in and through me
and those around me,
hearing His heart,
and stepping
into new adventures
with Him.

But sometimes it is good to stop and reflect.

About ten years ago, Denny first started talking about the idea of us getting a motorhome – having a home base in the south of Portugal, yet also traveling around to encourage, equip, and inspire others in Southern Europe to do what we’ve been doing together these past decades – passionately loving and serving Jesus, using our gifts in the arts and creating community to share Him with others and disciple them.

I was kind of uncertain about this motorhome idea at first, and thought it would surely be something for much further down the road.

But then, through a series of events, conversations, and promptings of God’s Spirit, it became evident that God was calling us to take this step much sooner than anticipated. And in the end of November 2010, we bought this big baby and set out on a course that has forever changed our lives.

It has been so amazing for me to discover that, although I never grew up going camping nor doing a lot of traveling, never had visited other countries as a child nor spoken another language, this is exactly the life I was created for. I feel so fully alive every time we set out on the road in our motorhome, heading to locations near and far – not because it satisfies my wild and adventurous spirit, but because God GAVE ME that spirit for this very purpose – for HIS purpose! It’s been incredible to realize that all my life, through so many little things, He was preparing me for this.

And it was in this old 1988 Frankia motorhome, at the age of 47, that I first made that beautiful discovery.

So many trips around Portugal and Spain, and five trans-European journeys as far as Germany or Poland and back, visiting people everywhere in between! Countless meals shared with family and friends at that small table; sleeps in parks, parking areas, and along the side of the road (but only twice in an actual campground)!

We slept as many as eight people in there once (two were children); had birthday parties and dinners with guests sitting on chairs, stools, and beds, laughing and enjoying conversation. And Denny and I have spent almost every night in that ole girl over all these years. I have loved knowing we were always ready to go, and that most of what we needed materially at any given moment was already in that 7-meter-long, 24-foot space.

This Crazy Fam

Photo by Timm Ziegenthaler

SONY DSC

I’m so grateful for all we’ve lived in this old motorhome… and incredibly thankful for the newer one that Denny is driving down to the Algarve as I write.

So, let me encourage you, as I encourage myself, to always be ready to step into whatever God is leading you in. It may feel scary or foolish, and go totally against the grain, but if the Father is guiding you, you can trust Him. And you will surely discover He’s been preparing you all along for a time like this.

 

Trust in the Lord with all your heart
    and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
    and he will make your paths straight.
Proverbs 3:5-6

Recognizing God’s Fingerprint

Have you ever felt like a palm tree in an orange grove?

I spent most of my childhood and adolescence feeling that way. I never quite seemed to fit in and generally felt misunderstood by those around me. And while loneliness was often my companion, I didn’t necessarily want to sacrifice my uniqueness in order to “blend.”

It was only through my relationship with Jesus that I came to understand and even embrace that those qualities and characteristics that differentiate me from everyone else around me are an amazing gift. I may often be that palm tree in the orange grove, but my God enables me to stand strong, to be who He asks me to be; to move in obedience to Him rather than submitting to the steady flow of life’s rushing stream.

I love that our God is so infinitely creative as to have made every person a unique and awesome reflection of Himself. Through everyone I meet, whether they are already walking with Him or not, I can experience a bit more of the Father’s character. So rather than looking for what makes us the same, I am challenged to recognize God’s distinct fingerprint – the beautiful way that He expressed Himself when He created each one of us.

For You formed my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Marvelous are Your works, and I know this very well.
My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in secret,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body; all my days were written in Your book
and ordained for me before one of them came to be.
Psalm 139:13-16

Redeemer of All Things

Sometimes, in the wake of life’s circumstances, we find ourselves feeling hollow, empty, or burnt – as if nothing good could possibly come from what we’ve experienced.

Yet our God is a redeemer of ALL things.

Every time I walk past this tree, it serves to remind me that when we are clinging to the Father and putting our trust in Him, life will always emerge from death and beauty will rise from our ashes.

He alone can take what was meant for our destruction and revive it with His glorious breath of hope and victory.

In our darkest hour, He is the light. And nothing can stop those tender shoots from springing forth.

He has made everything beautiful in its time.
He has also set eternity in the human heart;
yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.
– Ecclesiastes 3:11