a fair trade

this is the 17th day i've been out of the office and it is by far the most beautiful. we've moved our computer out to the entryway, so i can enjoy the gorgeous afternoon sun pouring through our family room windows as i type. i've opened the windows, turned up delirious on the stereo, and have almost finished my piece of chocolate-amaretto layer cake. yum.

i'm happy today. joyfully happy. and, as i wrote in my journal this morning, happiness affects my ability to write. i care more to be understood when things are difficult, but when things are good, i care less what anyone thinks. so if this whole blog becomes junk, be happy for me.

my friend allan wrote me an email this morning and said, "regarding you and God, yeah, ride that wave as long as you can. And when it's done, paddle out again, coz there are always more waves." i like that picture. i think i'll hold onto it for awhile.

if you recall from an earlier blog, i began reading hinds' feet on high places before i left for china. the story - about a girl who follows the Great Shepherd up the mountain to the high places - relates snippets from her journey. when i first read it 3 or so years ago, i found myself identifying with her as she reached the places closest to the mountain peak. now, reading it, i find myself with her much lower on the mountain, walking much more slowly than before. and i'm seeing more here than i ever did the first time around. i can't wait till i'm 80 and i'm still discovering new things at the same point on the mountain i've ascended and descended a gazillion times.

i remember being about 8 or 9 years old and standing in the doorway of my pink bedroom i shared with my little sister paula, facing sarah's peach bedroom and the sun falling in that west window. my mom was looking at me, smiling, and telling me she sometimes felt i was an old woman hiding in a little girl's body. perhaps she spoke it into my life. because i've often found it easier to talk about the end of life than the whole "during" part. the pastor of the church i attended sunday talked about jesus coming to take away our fear of death. i laughed to myself. of all things, i fear death perhaps the least. so i did what i do best ... follow the bunny trail of my mind away from the pastor and start digging through scripture while keeping one ear open for pearls from the pulpit.

god, i asked, why am i so afraid of living? why am i so afraid to do it wrong? to mess it up? to do irreversible damage? to disappoint my parents? to disappoint myself? to become less than i think i was meant to be?

i dug through hebrews chapter 2 and chapter 5 where the author talks about jesus himself being here, being tempted, being subject to weakness, and then read in 1 corinthians where he says, "no temptation has seized you except what is common to man. and god is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. but when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." he's lived. he's been here. he knows.

immediately, i thought of shane's sermon at mad city a few weeks ago, the one where i argued every point he made in my head, where i rejected all of his notes about god's love, about marriage, about - well, all of it, and where i saw the sad and real state of my own heart when i told god to f@#* off. shane had ended his sermon with a note to everyone unsure about what to be hoping for, what to be waiting on god for, and said, "god hasn't forgotten you; he knows where you live." i told god in my head, "you don't know where i live, you have no idea what's going on in my life." my heart broke.

i digress ...

the thing is, after reading these things again about him living here, about him knowing this life, i heard shane's voice in my head: "he knows where you live." and then my ears opened to the pastor up front: "perfect love casts out all fear."

my heart sighed. we do not fear living because He Himself has been there. He knows where we live. and because of god's mercy, we get to celebrate Easter, we get to celebrate the fact that He lives even now. and is active in our lives even now. and loves us even now.

it's an old revelation. but it's new in my heart again. and it's made me happy. maybe made my writing bad, but god, it's good for my soul.