Fresh Paint

This past week, we’ve been completing some home projects while not working over the Christmas break. Specifically, painting our two upstairs rooms. I love how a fresh coat of paint can instantly change the character of a room! But there’s work that has to be done before painting. If I just throw new paint on the old walls, it won’t be long before all the previous imperfections, dings, holes, etc show through. So the work before the work needs to happen. Before I pick up a paintbrush or roller, all the furniture and wall décor has to come out. Then holes need to be patched and sanded. Maybe there’s a large gouge or something requiring more extensive repair – cutting and patching drywall. More sanding. Now at this point, the room looks the worst it’s ever gonna look because all the repairs are visible, along with the old paint. Then, the walls need to be wiped down and cleaned, because new paint won’t adhere to dirty, dusty, cobweb cluttered walls.

Finally, we’re ready to paint. But even this must be done with intention. There’s the “cutting in,” the painstaking process of getting all the edges, corners, and around outlets and receptacles. The nooks and crannies around doors and windows. You need the right tools, ladders, and a steady hand. This is not a rushed part of the process, but when done with patience, it allows the rest of the painting to come together beautifully.

I finished the painting yesterday - New Year's Day, in our spare bedroom, which had been painted Tennessee colors by the previous owners – one bright orange wall and 3 dark gray walls. Plus a dingy closet painted some throwback brown mustard color from the 90’s. We’ve lived with it like this for 8+ years. Yesterday was a full day of all the painting after the primer which I completed the day before. Cutting in the ceiling, corners, windows and doors. Up and down the ladder. Hands and knees around the room. Small roller to get close to the edges. Large roller for the walls. Repeat.

As I was soaking in a much needed hot bath and thinking about the last 4 days of work we accomplished, I heard the Lord whisper “fresh paint.” He began showing me how all the steps I’ve experienced in painting mirror His work in our heart and life, when we surrender to Him. He is the One who comes into our life and helps clear out all the clutter. He doesn’t judge us for living with the same "paint" for so long. Instead, He identifies the rough spots, the holes, the gouges.  He applies spackle with grace and mercy, sanding them until they’re smooth. Sure the sanding hurts a little, but He is kind and gentle, speaking words of affection and identity as He works. Then, He lovingly covers all the imperfections with the fresh paint of His Spirit. We are made new in the light and love of Christ.

He is not slow, nor does He skip the steps or rush the process. He takes His time. He is patient with us. The last thing He does is help us “set up the room.” He doesn’t move everything back in – only what is meant to be there. He shows us what to let go of as He makes all things new. 

So as I start 2023, I’m echoing the psalmist in psalm 139:23-24 and asking the Lord to search me, know my heart, test me and know my anxious thoughts, and show me any offensive way in me, and lead me along the path of everlasting life. I am submitting to the maker’s hand and asking for fresh paint and all that goes along with the process. Selah.

 

What's In A Name?

  

Today, I had a vivid dream in the early morning hours (which happens often). I actually began keeping a dream journal this year because of the intensity and vivid imagery I experience while dreaming. Sometimes there is a recurring pattern or theme, but this one was new and different. In my dream, I had made a flight reservation, on American Airlines, and I got a call from the airline confirming my flight arrangements. They asked me to verify my name, and I said “Joanna Harris.” Then they said they could not verify my information so my flight would be cancelled. Their records did not match what I was telling them. I panicked and realized I was giving them my maiden name, not my married name…which I suddenly couldn’t remember. I scrambled while on the phone, searching in vain for my license which would tell me my name. I opened drawers and felt suddenly lost. My sister and other people were in my dream, asking me what I was looking for, and I told them “My name, I need to find my driver’s license with my picture and name!” I dumped out my purse and found my wallet, but my license was not in there. I kept telling the airline representative that I knew who I was but I couldn’t remember. I was in despair about not being able to say who I was. No one I was with could tell me, and the airline needed me to tell them so they could validate my ticket. My name. My identity.

Then I woke up, with many of these details still very active and swirling in my mind. I believe this is a dream about how much we struggle to discover, and then remember, who we really are; not just our name, but our true and authentic identity. It’s about the fear and insecurity we feel when confronted by others who either don’t know us or don’t believe we are who we say we are. Maybe we know who we are on the inside, but we have forgotten our "name." Maybe we are living under the name of something in our past that is not true. Maybe we know we aren’t living in truth, but we can’t seem to find our way back – if only we could find that picture ID that would confirm our identity, to us and everyone else. Who we are is more than our literal name, our experiences, our successes and failures – our identity is deep inside our core, and it defines us, it provokes us, it reminds us of purpose, it calms us, it sustains us through difficulty. Oftentimes, we find it in times of quiet and contemplation. Rarely do we find it in times of chaos and urgency.

I’m still processing some of the dream details, and they come in and out of focus as the day goes on. I know for me, it speaks to my need to carve out more quiet, more contemplation, and more connection to my Creator. Peace.

The Case of the Missing Puzzle Piece

I’m a puzzler…one who truly enjoys the challenge of a good puzzle. I prefer 500 - 1000 pieces, although I've done one that was 1500 pieces. What a monster! I love opening the box, then the bag and emptying out all the fresh, new pieces. The little bits of paper dust suddenly become free, and a familiar smell fills the room as I gaze at the infinite shapes and colors contained in the box bottom. It’s a mad and concentrated dash to put the border together…and there’s always a piece or two that elude me, until finally the border is done. Now I can decide which section to attack first. I usually work very intensely, sometimes for hours, looking for that next connection, and then the next - becoming intimately familiar with the coloring and shapes in this artistic riddle. Jackpot if I connect a piece or group of pieces to the border! I begin separating pieces into like color color groups, then turning them until the orientation matches the picture on the outside of the box. Each piece only fits in one place. Only one.

Last night, I finished the second puzzle in two weeks – I’m kind of on a roll, I guess. This one was an outdoors scene – a cabin near a creek, with beautiful fall trees and a few raccoons at the water. A lot of the colors were similar, and it had a watercolor effect for an extra challenge. Throughout the week I zeroed in first on the border, then the cabin, then the raccoons, then some of the rocks. I was feeling elated and conquering this one in record time! Then I got stuck. There was a piece I could not find. I turned every remaining piece over to see the coloring – I needed a piece with some light gray where the rocks were…and there just wasn’t one. It had 4 outties so I knew exactly what shape I was looking for. Desperately, I tried every piece in that shape, even if the coloring wasn’t right. Nothing. I went to bed frustrated, but determined to find it the next day. 

Yesterday. I revisited the dark water section and boom! I was connecting piece after piece, moving up into the trees and then the bright orange and yellow leaves. With less available pieces, I revisited the ONE. The missing piece of my rock. It had to be there. Hadn’t I carefully emptied the pieces into the box, and hadn’t I meticulously made sure any piece that fell to the floor was immediately picked up? Yes, I had. Once again, I tried every piece that was the right shape – 4 outties, no holes, no bubble ends or funky pointy parts. Still nothing. Exasperated, I decided to just finish the rest of the puzzle, because surely my piece would finally be the only one left. I would chuckle at myself for getting so worked up when it was right there all along. Piece by piece, the entire puzzle became complete. There is nothing like the satisfaction of putting in the LAST puzzle piece. Only…it wasn’t there. Are you kidding me? Did the manufacturer make a mistake? I was so disappointed, and I got up out of my chair. It was late and I needed to go to bed, so I started putting things away and turning off lights. That’s when I saw it. Down on the floor, under the dining room table I’d been working at for nights. It’s as if heaven opened up and shined a light on my one, lone missing piece. I picked it up, turned it over and sure enough – 4 outties and light gray. As I put the final piece in place, I felt such satisfaction. That piece had probably been on the floor almost the entire week; why I didn’t see it before, I don’t know. But I closed up the box and placed it on top of the puzzle – a sign that the work was finished.

Today, as I was driving to work and thinking (which I often do while driving), the Lord spoke to me about “the missing puzzle piece.” He reminded me that I cannot fill my missing pieces with an imitation – something that looks like it will fit. Just like my puzzle, no matter how many times I tried pieces that looked right, only one was going to fit the empty space. Only one.

How many times have I tried to fill a space with something that really didn’t fit? Too many times. But the Lord is gentle in His reminders and His patience. He is gracious in His affection, and He is boundless in His love. Scripture tells us His grace is enough for me and His mercies are new every morning, and His kindness lasts forever. But I have a part to play – to look for the right pieces that only He can provide. His joy. His peace. His love. His truth. Otherwise I’m just a frustrated puzzler with an unfinished puzzle who doesn’t realize the perfect missing piece is right in front of me.

I think St. Augustine put it best when he said, "Our hearts are restless, until they can find rest in you." I believe 2017 is a year for me to find that missing piece and rest completely in Jesus. Yes and Amen.

Quote from Augustine of Hippo (354-430), in Confessions.

One Year

 

 It feels like yesterday that we left our home of 25 years in Virginia and arrived in Franklin, TN. Just like that, new city, new home, new neighbors. No church family or friends, no job for me, and no ministry to serve in. We had our furniture in our home, but things didn’t fit quite right yet. When I left my house, I was totally dependent on Google maps to get me anywhere, and I got lost. Often. I recall thinking I would never learn my way around. I remember walking the aisles of the grocery store like it was another country, striking up a brief conversation with the checkout clerk just so I could talk to someone. Human connection was suddenly stripped away, and I was lonely, isolated and missing my friends from Virginia in the worst way. In one fell swoop, we became visitors and guests. Facebook and text messaging became lifelines for me as I desperately tried to stay connected to friends and family back “home.” Sure, it was beautiful here in Tennessee; fall colors, rolling hills, and the quaint town square of Franklin were a symphony for my senses. But in every way, it felt like a desert in my heart, even though I knew (beyond any doubt) we were exactly where we were supposed to be.

So much waiting. So many days spent in yoga pants – I mean, why not? I had no job, and I had nowhere I needed to be. No coffee dates with friends. No lunches with coworkers. No fun events with church family. I read my Bible, and I prayed. A lot. I journaled my laments, and I blogged my thoughts. If you can imagine being the only one riding on a carousel in a theme park, in slow motion, while everyone around you is smiling and having the best day, that is what I felt like…an outsider longing to be off the carousel and part of the crowd.

 

I’m an encourager and a people person, and I had nowhere to pour myself out. Slowly, however, incredibly and painfully slowly, things began to change. We visited different churches looking for the “aha” moment. Then, while my son (who lives in California) was visiting us over the holidays, we connected with one of his friends who lives here (that’s a very long God story!), and we landed at her family’s church – the AHA came, in a big way. It was such an AHA that we felt as if we had travelled back in time to see God’s hand in our story in ways we never knew, all on that first Sunday at The Gate. We knew we had found a church family; now the task of getting to know our new brothers and sisters was upon us! Finally, I could check something off my list of laments.

My search for a job was no less painful. I realized how blessed I had been for the past 15 years – some of that time spent at home with my kids and a lot of it spent on staff at my church, where the job found me. The hard truth of how much work it takes to find a job was hitting me in the face, and I didn’t like it one bit. I was beginning to slip into a funk of doubt – doubt about my skills, doubt about my worth, doubt that I would find a job at all. Applications were received, only to get a “thanks but no thanks” email. Phone and in-person interviews resulted in more rejection. Out of desperation, I went to a staffing company, where I found LIGHT. Not only did they find me a great temp assignment almost immediately, they affirmed me in every way. That first 2-month job continued to build my confidence, and I finally landed in my current full time job through the staffing company. It was a job I would have never looked for on my own, but it is exactly what I needed. Another AHA and lament checked off.

The final lament was my longing to connect in ministry. I’ve always been part of worship, and I had worked with teens and youth, but I was sensing God doing something new…but what? I resolved to be patient and wait for His timing. As I began connecting to new friends in our new church family, clarity of ministry entered my heart and mind, like slowly bringing a camera lens into focus. God opened the door to be part of worship again, and my heart leapt for joy. Then a surprising door opened to partner with the Children’s Director. So much excitement coupled with a complete lack of understanding and comfort – I had not worked with children in a very long time, and children’s ministry is vastly different from youth ministry. But I knew that I knew it’s where I’m supposed to be. A couple weeks ago, I taught the K-2^nd grade class. Lots of boys and energy! By the end of that Sunday, they had won my heart. My final AHA and lament checked off.

Today, as I’m reflecting and realizing we have lived here in Franklin for exactly 1 year and 2 weeks, I am humbled by all that has occurred in such a brief time. I am more aware than ever that God truly has a plan for me, and that plan is GOOD. The flame of my love for God and His people has been fanned, and I am ready for another year full of His presence, goodness and purpose.

Does this crown make me look fat?

You're probably wondering what in the world this blog will be about - such a captivating title, right? Well, it's a transparency moment between me and you, or me and myself, or me and God. You get the picture. Lately, I've been having these "episodes"... I have come to refer to them as Princess Moments. Not the Disney princess kind of fantasy with prince charming, pumpkins turning into coaches and glass slippers. Not the elegant Princess-Diana-marries-Prince-Charles once in a lifetime moment. I'm talking about a REAL princess moment. An entitlement moment. I want what I want, and I want it now Veruca Salt moment (if you don't know who that is, go to Youtube immediately and search for her or Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory - original version with Gene Wilder, puhleez).

Something has happened to me lately and I'm honestly just searching out my heart and mind and asking God to reveal His character through me and squash this selfish princess monster that keeps trying to take over. For example, I used to take such joy and pleasure in cooking - spending many hours preparing and coaxing beautiful flavor out of my dishes to serve my family or large gatherings. But lately, I'm not feelin' it. If I'm being honest, I would love nothing more than to come home after a long day of work to a beautiful, healthy meal prepared for me, served to me, and then cleaned up afterward while I retire to the study (cue the British accent)....or something like that. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoy cooking. I just. don't. want. to. do. it. every. day. every. meal. (periods are added for emphasis; I do hope you read it in the stuttered way it was intended).

I love a clean house. I mean, I really love a clean house. It's just me and my husband now, so we don't make a lot of mess...but still, all the freaking wood floor must be cleaned periodically (translation - when I can't stand it anymore). Anyone reading this with a house full of mostly wood floors knows what I mean. First the vacuum, then the dry dust mop, then the wet mop. Downstairs, then upstairs, then the actual stairs. And don't get me started on bathrooms. That is my least favorite cleaning job. Ever. Period. But, I do love a sparkly clean shower and bathroom. 

Excuse me for a moment while I straighten my tiara - it got a little lopsided there after than rant.

Thankfully, we now have a smaller yard so there is less to maintain, and my husband is wonderful at mowing, edging and all the other heavy jobs. But there's still fertilizing, weeding, trimming and more weeding. Ahem, I repeat. I want it to look beautiful, but I'm just not motivated. I want what I want, and I want it now.

Yet, even as I am writing this blog, I am sensing the sweet Holy Spirit whispering in my ear. He is saying, "I know you miss those days when your kids were young and so devoted and dependent on you. It's ok." "I know you miss your friends and family that you moved away from to follow my leading. It's ok." "I know you are longing to know what comes next, and the void is sometimes too vast, and your faith seems small. It's ok." 

He knows. He knows all of me, all of my heart, and all of my desires. He sees me struggle, and He helps me when I come apart. So I will remove my earthly crown full of self, entitlement and tantrums, and wear the crown He has given me as his daughter, a daughter of the King. This crown fits perfectly and reminds me to selflessly follow and serve wherever He leads. Even if that's in the kitchen cooking, cleaning with a broom and a mop, or weeding in the yard. I will put my hands to the work before me today, and believe He has good works prepared for me tomorrow.

Thanks for reading. Check your mirror and see what crown you are wearing today - maybe it's time for a change.

Following the Leader

Blog topics are like shirts that need to be ironed. Sometimes they stack up and go unattended for a while, until suddenly you need that shirt! So it is with this blog. It’s been rambling through my heart for a while now – months, in fact. Now it’s time to iron it and put it on.

 

I’ve heard the story of God leading the Israelites a lot. Pillar of cloud by day and fire by night. Wandering 40 years in the desert. Eating manna from heaven. But this year, I’ve been reading through the Bible and really seeking the Spirit for revelation and understanding. This story has captivated my thoughts as I have imagined myself among the multitude of Jews in this miraculous story. A journey that should have taken days spanned years, yet their clothes and sandals did not wear out. They travelled day or night. Whenever the pillar moved, they broke camp and moved; when the pillar stopped, they stopped and set up camp. They only knew two things – God was leading them, and the end of the journey was the promised land. Every step in between was a step of incredible faith. I remind myself that they did not know the journey would last 40 years. They did not know how God was going to provide for their needs, or how He was going to lead them. They did not even know where the promised land was. It was all by faith. God, in His sovereignty, could have abandoned them for all of their sins, pride and constant complaining. He, in His holiness, could have wiped them all out and started over. But it was His great love and compassion that motivated Him to instruct and lead His people; to care for them and provide for their needs.

 

I walked outside in my yard recently and tried to imagine a great pillar of cloud hovering near my neighborhood. It almost took my breath away to place myself in the vulnerable position of trusting something so beyond my understanding, so immense and so unpredictable. I mean, I love a good sci-fi movie with futuristic plots, spaceships and aliens. But imagining this enormous, living pillar of cloud or fire goes beyond any special effects or computer-generated animation. Can you close your eyes and place yourself in the midst of this breathing expression of God Almighty? Then suddenly, without warning, the pillar begins moving. It’s evening, so the pillar is now a column of fire, providing light for the journey. It is a beacon that does not consume, even though fire’s very nature is to burn whatever it touches. Everyone knows what to do – pack up, break camp and move, walking until the pillar stops again. Then set up camp, sleep, wake and repeat. For 40 years. For 40 miraculous years.

Last year, my pillar moved. I followed and left all that was known and comfortable. I left friends and family, community, ministries, and everything that had fed and filled my soul. I have felt like I've been in my own desert in some ways; but I also know it's exactly where I need to be, where God wants me to be. Dependent on Him, trusting Him, seeking Him, desiring Him. I have been just like the Israelites - complaining, looking back and longing for what was familiar. And God has been true and faithful through the transition. He is leading me with care and compassion, just as He did for the Israelites. Just as He has done my whole life, only now I see His hand more clearly than ever. Rekindled need and dependence on the Holy Spirit are a necessary response when all we have come to know and depend on is suddenly gone. God knows where He wants to take me, and He has plans for me that I cannot even imagine. He's proven Himself over and over, as He reminds me of all the steps I have taken up to this moment. I'm more excited than ever for the future, and I'm watching that pillar, because when it moves, I want to be ready. In the meantime, I'm leaning into God and filling my soul with new revelation, reflecting on His goodness and kindness, His mercy and faithfulness; full of thankfulness for what has been and expectation for what is yet to come.

 

How Well do you Wait?

If I asked for a show of hands from everyone who likes waiting, I can almost predict the number of hands raised would be zero. None. I don't know anyone who has ever told me they love to wait. Waiting means possibly being late, or maybe missing out on something, or...gasp...not being in control. Traffic. Grocery lines. The DMV. Picking up and dropping off kids. We watch the clock, and we stare at our cell phones waiting for that notification or text. We wait and we wait. But these are all temporal or physical things. We eventually arrive at our destination, check out of the store, and life moves forward.

What about the deeper waiting? When your spirit is longing and praying, and each day nothing seems to change. No shifting. It all just remains the same.

Maybe you are waiting for Mr. or Mrs. "Right." Maybe you are waiting for a financial miracle, or a family miracle. Maybe you are waiting for things to just turn around, get better. What happens to us when the waiting seems to go on and on? We begin to feel discouraged, maybe even depressed. We start to doubt that God cares or even hears our prayers. We welcome doubt and fear as our dear friends, because they are the only ones who seem to understand. We wake up and do this every day until finally, we stop waiting because we truly do not believe anything will change.

Is this you today? Are you struggling with hopelessness, depression, or feeling like you just don't matter enough to God for Him to take action in your circumstances? Well, I am waiting on God for some things, some answers. The transition I am in has gone on longer than I expected. I see faint, slow movement and changes, but the end is still a ways off. I am waiting, and what I believe the Holy Spirit downloaded to me today is the question "How well am I waiting?" You see, we are missing a big part of the Wait. Waiting is not necessarily passive or silent. It's not supposed to be a quiet, somber retreat for me to feel sorry for myself. It's also not a place for me to lash out at everyone in order to make myself feel better.  I believe what we really must do is be Actively Waiting.

We have to start at the beginning by remembering what FAITH really is. It's BELIEVING in something we can't see, being certain of something we hope for. Then in James Chapter 2, we read that Faith must be accompanied by deeds or works to be useful. We can't just "say" we have faith...we have to Activate our faith by doing something.

If I am waiting on God for something that I have faith for, then my waiting should be active. The very fact that I say I have faith means I am believing and hoping with certainty. So why the mopey face? Why so downcast, O My Soul? This is a chance for me to wait with expectancy, seeking others to bless them and seeking the presence of Jesus to encourage my soul. Too often, we look to outside sources like food, alcohol, and toxic relationships to soothe the longing and lack of control we are experiencing. Or maybe you are "serving" (code for doing something Christian) everywhere you can to fill a void, when in fact you should be "serving" at home and strengthening those relationships while you are waiting. Oh Snap. All of this misdirected energy provides temporary release, but there is no substitute for applying all we know about the character of God to our wait. Surround yourself with a community of believers, confess your doubts and fears, and then rise up with faith...not faith that you will get what you are waiting for, but faith in WHO God is. Faith that He will not withhold His best from you. Faith that He is FOR YOU, He is WITH YOU.  Then, armed with your faith, release it to others and be a blessing. Your faith will be built up, and you will be renewed as the prophet said in Isaiah 40:28-31:

Do you not know? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.

Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall;
but those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength
They shall mount up with wings like eagles.
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint.