Maranatha

In every moment, I can feel the patching of a heart that thought it would never be whole. I am seeing day by day what letting Jesus into the places that are filled with the most pain does for a broken spirit.  More and more I see His goodness and His readiness to be there when I become overwhelmed with the memory of my Grandfather. He brings life to the memories I hold - it is sweet assurance that he is in the land of the living with Ben, Burt, and Jesus. and the memories turn pain into thankfulness. because in their land, they are singing Hallelujah while we continue to cry Maranatha. 

Maranatha: our Lord has come | come, Lord Jesus | make room for the Master | the Lord is coming

When something goes wrong or not like we planned, it seems like the easiest thing to do is run; it's to get as far away as possible from the pain. So we avoid, we shut down, we move, we become silent, and we disassociate ourselves with that which is right in front of us. but if we knew the truth, would we still run? because the truth is that running from pain is running away from healing too. 

I've done my fair share of running in this life and I can tell you that the scars from that kind of life aren't worth it, not when you have access to full healing. I get it, though, we're all scared. of wars, of terrorists, of losing control (that wasn't ours in the first place. hello talking to self here), of doing what makes us come alive, of being inadequate, of being let down by God. 

But He is not whoever let you down. He's not your dad, your best friend, that ex-boyfriend/girlfriend. He doesn't disappoint. He always comes through. always. So the running has to stop because healing can't start until you come home. I know that takes a lot of trust and you can feel your heart tightening as we speak, but take a breath for me. Close your eyes and take a step. You will experience Him in such an exhilarating way.

"Bringing your fearful self home is bringing Jesus home" 

[the inner voice of love, Henri Nouwen] 

I am confessing that the fear of real pain has kept me from my own healing. I keep myself busy, I think on other things, I tell people I'm fine, I act as though I'm not broken because being that real is hard and scary, but it was time to go home.

When I got there, I found Jesus waiting on me patiently. He wasn't sleeping - He wasn't mad - He wasn't playing games. He was ready to embrace me as I wept. He was ready to catch me as I fell into his arms all crumpled up like a child. I was broken - I am broken. but I'm finding that He is the safest place to experience pain.

I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.

He is refuge, safe place, sozo, bread of life, healer, savior.

May you take yourself home, broken and ready to be healed. 

Em