Longing

This week I have been sitting with the image of Jesus on the beach with his disciples after his resurrection.  He invited them to sit around the fire, rest and eat with him.  It is an amazing image of warmth, love and communion with Him.  As I place myself around that fire I feel a powerful need to drink deeply of this type of offering and yet I feel challenged to receive it.  Sometimes when I feel this in need, this vulnerable, I also tend to feel fear.  It is a fear of being hurt, fear of being violated, fear of being rejected.  This morning I found myself going to a place in my memory when I felt this in need, this vulnerable and yet safe, loved. 

Every once in a while I allow myself to travel far back into my memories and find myself curled up on the couch next to my dear Auntie Lil.  As I close my eyes I can still feel the warmth of her hand on my forehead.  I can hear the ping of the rings on her hand as they rubbed up against each other.  I can feel the distinctive rhythm of her fingers as she stroked my hair.  Even as I write these words my body aches with longing as the hot tears flow down my cheek.  Never once did I question my Auntie Lil’s love for me.  Never once did I feel my safety threatened or fear rejection. These moments of time brought unique opportunities to feel deeply loved and protected just as I was. 
 

Many times over the last ten years, these experiences have come to mind as I have tried to grasp how deep and how wide God’s love is for me.  In my reflection of these unique times with my Aunt, I have become more open to receive God’s perfect and tangible love.  However, I think that today, it is the very small child in me that needs to understand and receive this love and yet it is the very small child that feels so vulnerable and in danger.  So this morning, I ask that God would allow the child within me to receive His love through the very heart and hands of the one with whom she felt safe and protected.  I invite Him into these sacred spaces that I believe He provided for me so that this small child might receive all that God desired for her.  I feel nothing less than His blessing as I place this request before Him.  

Thank you Father for meeting me where I am and being willing to love me in ways that I am able to receive.  Amen

The Blood of Christ-Then and Now

This morning as I sit in reflection of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, I am reminded of a previous post.  It felt important to bring out these words again and then consider what they mean to me now.

As I continue to sit with the image of the sinful woman from the gospel of Luke I have found myself coming face to face with the sin in my own life.  Sin that has been thrust upon me, sin that has come out of my own woundedness and my sin in choosing to keep all of it from the one True Healer.  As I step into this awareness, I see myself draped in a filthy, beaten and torn shawl of shame.  For years, I have allowed this shawl to cover me, to be my hiding place.  Now, however as I am present to this piece of my journey, as God has prepared me to be, I am beginning to see new movement.  I hear Christ beckoning me to the cross even as my shawl of shame is draped over my head, my eyes gazing down.  As I approach the cross, I fall to my knees.  Lifting my hands to wrap my fingers around the base of the cross that my Savior is hanging from, I cling to the hope that is there.  The blood from His wounds drips down His beaten body and off His feet, falling on my covered head.  As this drop of blood touches my shawl of shame, by the power, love and grace of Christ alone, it begins to dispel the filth and the shame, replacing it with a dazzling white.  This white slowly bleeds into the rest of my covering as God’s transforming truth penetrates and conquers the sin and lies that I have lived out of for so long.    

Now, over two years after first writing these words I find that they still feel raw and real.  I am still that broken person in need of healing, the unlovable in need of love, the sinner in need of forgiveness.  I am also aware that I have not always stayed at the foot of the cross where such transformational work is done.  Often I turn my head and move away.   If I am to be completely honest I would have to admit that it is fear that pulls me away.  Fear of the truth, fear of exposure, fear of vulnerability.  What I know is that God is bigger than my fear as He gently and continually invites me back.  Each time I return to Him, His healing goes a little deeper, His love spreads a little farther and my shawl becomes a little brighter.  Today I feel so thankful that God has not required me to clean myself up before I come to Him-an impossible task.  Rather, He invites me to come as I am and simply be open to receive His perfect and transforming love.  Lord, may my heart be open to you this day and may I “approach the throne of grace with confidence so that [ I might ] receive mercy and find grace.” Hebrews 4:16