The good good truths that this is not our home!

I have been so weepy-so tearful- and this idea of the brevity of time has been so fresh in my thoughts that it feels as if it is being seared into my brain. I noticed it at the beginning of the summer- near the time my mom broke her hip. There was a lump that slowly appeared in my throat and really has yet to go away. It has been accompanied by a knot in my stomach and a sense of a somewhat distant sadness and deep longing to hang on tighter to the ones I love as things have come and gone this summer. We have been blessed to spend so much time together with the ones we love- both on trips and even just being in our homes- but each time as those moments of togetherness are nearing their end- that same feeling returns. Even now, as I sit here with my computer in my lap I can feel this feeling of what I can only describe as worn out and torn open. Worn with the sweet taste of love- the tiny glimpse of what Father must have meant by "heaven on earth".  I have been loved on by my kids and my family and grown to love them even more. I have loved so hard that I feel like the Velveteen Rabbit described as he was becoming "real". I feel torn open- both from the relapsing memories of how quickly time is passing and just how little I can do to slow it down. I think back to memories that felt as if they were happening yesterday and realize that my children were half a year younger...and those moments JUST happened!
Currently what is freshest on my mind is the soon to be "see you later" as we wave goodbye to part of our family and they board a plane for another country. We don't actually know when we will see them again but can say with certainty that it will probably be a few years. Years- that makes me swallow hard- years. Our children will be different humans the next time they hug each other- years.

There is usually a moment that happens during the summer-usually a moment that happens on a vacation (probably because my eyes are a bit more open during vacation to see the amazing things our kids are doing) but it is usually a moment that sticks with me. It is like a mental photograph I capture and then it is almost as if Holy Spirit uses it to speak to me over and over again. This moment happened a few weeks ago while we were in the mountains on a family trip. For lots of reasons this year's trip up to the mountains proved to be a more difficult week than in years past. We had made our trek down to the area playground and I found myself gazing and watching the children playing without giving much thought to anything. Suddenly- the laughter and booming squeals of our kiddos captured my attention and I looked up to see my son playing in a world fully submerged in his imagination while climbing and swinging and playing in a way he never had. There was no fear- no fear of falling- no fear of rejection- no fear of it coming to an end- no fear of the bumps and bruises that were just around the corner. He was shining brightly as though to say "I am a little image bearer of my maker" and through his adventure seeking and trusting childlike faith he caused his mama to catch her breath. Oh to be that free and that alive- oh to be a child.

Vacations are over, summer is winding down, and the next "thing" has yet to be planned. We are on the cusp of settling in for the new school year- which both ties us down and yet comes up empty. Mundane living is upon us- so what do we do? I know what my flesh wants to do- it is to plan the next thing, dig out the calendar and fill it up. My flesh pattern is to strive to fill in the gaps that are uneasy and unspoken for- but my spirit- my spirit longs for much more.

One evening, while sitting on the old rocking chair front porch of our house in the mountains, I chatted with family while holding back tears as I thought about the nearing of saying goodbye. As I sat there and rocked I could feel the heaviness of nerves and sadness weighing down on me like a thousand pounds. It felt crushing- almost hard to breathe. I felt the fear of what-ifs and I don't want to's. And then the sweet Holy Spirit came rushing over me and reminded me of the truth.

The truth- this is not our home. This is not heaven. This is not what our hearts long for- for what our hearts long for can only be found in Jesus. I can grasp at the ones I love, I can cling to the memories and moments that are dear, I can plan and fill my days until the brim of activities are spilling over, I can fill my calendar with more to do's to make more memories- ease the pain of goodbyes- make the weeks pass quicker- but you know what? None of this will satisfy. Jesus and only Jesus will satisfy for what our hearts long.

At the end of the day I will rest and trust. I will seek to be the child I saw on the playground this summer- full of wonder and adventure- free from fear. I will walk through our mundane and sometimes boring days with my hands as wide open as possible (and as best I can) and trust the Lord with how he has purposed my steps. As lovely as the memories are with the ones we love- I will fight to believe that what is to come- the place that Jesus has gone on before us to prepare- the glory that our eyes have yet to behold- will surpass my wildest dreams and that we will be more alive with Him than with anything this earth has to offer. For He is for us and we are a child of the living God- and that is something that warms the heart- even on the coldest days.

                     Full of wonder- full of life

  

 A true rocking chair front porch