Saturday, October 24, 2015

Home.


Below the fluff of clouds the patchwork pattern begins. This is how I know I'm almost home.

"Home" has meant two places for the past two years---the place I'm flying toward now, a farm outside of Swea City, Iowa and also the one I've just left, a small brick house in an old neighborhood in Memphis, Tennessee.

Home is often first where you're born. Your second home, I think, is the one you make.

My Memphis home is one I've lived in the for the longest amount of time since I left the little sky-blue house in Iowa, and my commitment to be a Memphian, to be at home in my little brick house in the city I love has taught me quite a bit.

We all know it's true, but I'll say it again: Commitment all about choice. It's usually one daring decision, one strike out into the unknown, one turning point with all the bells and whistles. After that, though, commitment is the less-often discussed daily choices: to stay, to be fully present, to decide to love the place and the people all over again. A friend once said, "Commitment doesn't mean being a sprinter; it's more than a marathon. Commitment requires faithful plodders." How unexciting! How true!

I have two years of choice under my belt, and, from this vantage point, commitment to this city and to the dear people I've met here is the hardest, best thing I've ever done. In the process, I've learned what I'm about, the deep-deep down kind, when push comes to shove. I've learned to love more deeply and more terrifyingly than ever before. I've learned to ask for help and to gratefully accept it, to be a student of the ones I love and of the city that shapes us all. Life is challenging, beautiful, and full, Dear Reader. There are heights and depths I never would have known if I hadn't chosen to make my home, time and time again.

Choose yours. Choose your home-place. Choose your people who will help you give your life away. Choose to invest your life in the beauty that is commitment and self-reliance. And whenever you've reached your wits' end (which, by the way, is sure to happen more than once and more often than you'd like), hear the voice of your Jesus saying, "Beloved, I committed first. You go nowhere alone."

Build a home, Friends.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Go Ahead, Struggle. [You'll find Life there.]

Dear Reader,

I was talking to a dear friend yesterday on the phone. She is one of the strongest, most compassionate people I know, soaked from head to toe in the truth and love of Jesus. She sees the struggles of others so very clearly and directs them to the heart of the Father and His goodness.

And you know what? She is smack in the middle of her own season of intense emotional and spiritual struggle. Life is hard for her right now, Dear Reader. Very hard and very real. And it seems to be a trend. I can immediately name at least 10 friends who are journeying, or have recently journeyed through a time like this, myself included. 

It seems that this section of life, in these 10 years known as our 20's, so much of who we are is forged from the real struggle of growing up and engaging in real, honest relationships with our Jesus and with the people we love. These years of growing into the individual hearts we will be are a bit chaotic,  and I think there are a couple of important things to remember. I shared these with my dear friend yesterday, and then, as often happens, I reminded myself of these very same true things later in the evening. :) 

1.) You are absolutely not alone. There are times when you will feel alone, but it won't be true. There are ALWAYS people who love you and who have experienced similar feelings. We're all figuring out, in greater measure, who we are and how that identity will express itself in our lives. We are, at times, hot-messes of life-in-progression, but you know what? The mess is an incredibly beautiful piece of the puzzle of identity and strenth and growth. Which brings me to my second thought: 

2.) You have permission to feel the way you feel. Did you hear me? Permission granted. 

There are times, Dear Reader, where you will feel the heights of joy. Go ahead, feel joyful. Let your joyful feeling draw you into the wonder of who He is and who you are in Him. Reach up to they sky and marvel at its beauty. Be thankful, so thankful that you're a bit annoying. Look deeply and long at all the beauty your eyes can see. Everything is more beautiful to a joyful heart. Revel. 

There are times when you will feel quite confused. Go ahead, feel confused. Let your confusion drive you to ask great, honest questions. Questions are not something to be feared or shamed. Questions, confusion, they teach us where are hearts are resting. They move us from one point of understanding to the next. They are not a gross wasteland to be avoided, they are the very beginnings of walking fully in a new level of understanding. Ask. 

There are times when you will feel angry. Go ahead, feel angry. Sort out why you feel angry. Ask yourself, "What triggered this angry feeling? What circumstance? What interaction? Why?" It's okay to feel angry. Do you need to break something? Go outside. Smash something against the concrete. Go inside, grab a broom, clean up the pieces. Let it out in healthy ways, but my goodness, let it out! 

There are times when you will feel grief, grief that threatens to rip your heart to pieces. Cry, Dear Reader. Feel sorrow. At the pit of that sorrow is a hurt that probably has its root in love. The heights of love are heightened by the depths of grief. We'll feel both, if we're living wholeheartedly. Go ahead, grieve. Give your grieving self some time. Give your greiving self some space. Give yourself permission to be a hurting human in the hands of Jesus. 

There are times when you will feel ambivalent, lethargic, and sluggish, not particularly moved or bent by anything in particular. When you feel this way, Dear Reader, ask yourself, "When did I choose to feel numb?" What circumstance made me decide that checking out of my feelings was safer than engaging?" Figure out what patterns keep you involved in your own life and which ones disengage you. Go ahead, feel a bit numb. Use that emotional distance to figure out why. 

Dear Reader, I can't really stress enough: Feel what you feel. Feel what you feel with the community of people that love you. Feel what you feel with a community of people you trust. Not only will you build relationship, but you'll sharpen those communication skills. You'll learn to be emotionally intelligent, and you'll learn how to give and receive real love, love that asks questions, prods, and sometimes says, "This is what I need from you right now." 

Feel what you feel and live that bold, messy life of yours with your Jesus. You know what? He's not ashamed of your feelings. He's not ashamed of who you are when you're smack in the middle of  a season of struggle. Perhaps you've seen Him in the glory, in the beauty. He's probably taught you quite a bit about how much He loves you in experiences that were so delightful your heart was going to burst with joy. 

You know what, Dear Reader? There is a deeper joy to know, a deeper kind of acceptance and mutual-knowing to be found. You'll discover it when you live your messy moments intentionally in the plain-sight of Jesus. He won't look away, ashamed and unsure of what to do with your tangle of emotion. He'll love you. Not the pitying kind of love. The engulfing pride-filled love He feels when He sees you becoming, being brave and becoming. 

Let your heart come alive, Dear Reader. Let it come alive in the moments and seasons where everything feels quite messy, but you trust yourself to Him and to your people. Go Ahead, Struggle.