The Only Word of Mouth That Really Matters Anyway

Not even sure where to begin with this. So I type and you read and I'm sure I'll get to the point eventually. ;) Actually, the fact that this blog is the flavor of procrastination you choose for these few precious minutes is a blessing to me. You are a busy person. As am I. So when we choose to spend this time together I am thankful.

It's not that I haven't felt like writing. It's just that we are in the "busy season" here as a pastor's family. I contemplated running through the basic list of all the obligations and responsibilities we have, but honestly it was making me a bit nauseus. Best not to think of it.

The Christmas season and end of the year, has a tendency toward the analytical. I can't tell you how many product reviews I have read on amazon and other websites. I've spent even more time reading recipes and comments on food blogs as my family steers their food consumption to a more whole and healthy diet. I've read warning labels on medicine, testimonials on home remedies, book reviews, Pinterest boards, tutorials...

Because in the end I want to know that if I put forth the time, money, effort, that in the end it will be worth it.

Because everything costs something, and I really don't want to waste anything.

So I filter searches, and follow stars. The ones attached to the general opinions of the masses.

And in all the assessment, I assess myself: How many stars would I give myself for the condition of my home? My care of the sick children? My songs in worship? My coaching of the team? My disposition? My generosity? My patience? My cooking? My wife-ing? My mom-ing?

I follow the stars. And they lead me in circles.

Then I open my impulse buy, and reading this stops the spinning and it makes all the difference. 

It reminds me that God's choice to come save, graft-in, this tired, weary soul is the only review that matters. The stars, the ratings I attach to myself- the ones I perceive come from others- those wither and fade.

God didn't seek four-star all-inclusive accomodations to house his flesh-born Son. We marvel that He would choose such humble surroundings, and yet forget that what makes a place spectacular is not the decor and finery, but the One who made it, dwells within it, chooses it.

Like our lives. Surely God could find a more worthy heart than mine in which to dwell. One not so tainted and jaded by sin. A person who can keep it together at least.

But it is the One who made us that matters. It is the One who dwells within us and chooses us as His own that transforms our lives into a beautiful story of His love, power, mercy, grace, forgiveness, and faithfulness. You are amazing, a miracle, because God has made you His own. The shortcomings we possess and can't ignore, they aren't a monument to our failures, they are a living testimony to the greatness of our God.

"See what kind of love the Father has given to us, 

that we should be called children of God; and so we are." 1 John 3:1a

There is only one star we need follow, and it is the one the directs us to Savior. Because the time, riches of heaven, and effort God put forth in His Son Jesus were all worth it to save us. We are worth it and He is worthy.

He says so.

"In the same way we also, when we were children, were enslaved to the elementary principles of the world.  But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God." Galatians 4:3-7

And that is really the only word of mouth that matters anyway.

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Would it not just be so amazing if I was able to write again before the end of the year? Oh, friends! I'm going to try. I really and truly am. I drive and live and read and think, "I need to write about this!" Then life passes, and I go to bed wondering what I did that day. It wasn't writing. So scout's- honor I will do my best to get to writing because I have so much to share and I really do enjoy our time together. Merry Christmas

Surviving Christmas, Or Living it? {Messy Monday}

The righteous flourish like the palm tree

    and grow like a cedar in Lebanon.

They are planted in the house of the Lord;

    they flourish in the courts of our God.

They still bear fruit in old age;

    they are ever full of sap and green,

 to declare that the Lord is upright;

    he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him.

Psalm 92:12-15

This morning, I told my husband they need to make a survivalist show about pastors' families during Advent.

We watched a survival show last night and, while I certainly wouldn't trade places with the marooned green beret, I know he wouldn't trade places with me either.

Look at all of us- just trying to survive. On a blow-up life boat. On a micro-suede sectional.

Like we're all just a bunch of Christmas trees biding our time until someone strips off the pretty ornaments and we're kicked to the curb.

Is that how you feel sometimes? Like you're just trying to make it through?

I hope not.

But if you are, then I have something to tell you:

You are not a Christmas tree.

You're an Evergreen.

It's a matter of life and death.

My oldest was observing our Christmas tree the other day. We cut it down the day after Thanksgiving.

"It's not as pokey as it used to be." (Indeed, decorating that baby reminded me of why they bear the name "pine needles.")

"Nope, it sure isn't."

"Why?"

"Because it's losing it's luster."

"What does that mean?"

"It's dying, Hon. Actually, it is dead. We're just trying to keep it looking alive for as long as possible."

She was confused and a little mortified.

Evergreens point to the eternal greatness of our God. Christmas trees point to our death and desperate need for The Life.

A perfect Christmas illustration.

This time of year we get distracted by shiny things. Soon the ball in Time Square will drop and fireworks will blaze and resolutions will be made. We'll remember that another year has past, and fool ourselves into thinking that means our luster is slipping away as well.

Soon we'll fall flat, and succumb to the temptation to compare ourselves to others. Tempted into discontent.

Trapped in "survival mode."

And my tree won't be here to remind me that any way you dress it up- death is still death.

The tree will pass away, but our Lord has an amazing way of taking a death on a tree and giving eternal life.

Death is still death, and life is still life.

Christmas is about more than survival. It's about life- in a manger. In a tomb. In glory.

And it's not too late. It's my prayer that God grants us the grace to stop right here. Right now. And regardless of what needs to be done, wrapped, baked, or sung, that He gives us the life-giving heart of this Advent season. Praying for you dearly beloved friends.

Let Freedom Ring

Happy Advent Wednesday to you all!

I've been in the mood for some Martina McBride all day, and I gotta say, I haven't listened to much country in a very very long time. Still, I can't even think the words Let Freedom Ring without hearing that tremendous voice.

There's a slavery issue going on in my own heart right now. I didn't realize that until I heard the call to liberation.

Because my shackles were invisible. And now that I see my own, I look around at His Beloveds and see theirs too.

It's not a pretty Advent tiding.

Not nearly as eye-popping as the umpteen email ads I wake up to every single morning.

Not as cheerful as the jingle soundtracks to the great deals at the department stores.

But it's there just the same. Our country has a slavery issue, and I'm not even talking about human trafficking.

I'm talking about our simple, complicated, overwhelming lives.

And after I have shackled myself to the gift buying, the decorating, the family time, the church commitments, the Christmas cards, my expectations- well, it's no wonder I feel torn. Perhaps you feel that way too. A slave to your calendar, budget, baking.

Shackled to the good, forfeiting the best.

I've been wanting to write encouraging stuff. It's the Christmas season, people! Holly, jolly, very merry Christmas joy! This stuff that you put on my heart, Lord, it isn't really where I saw this blog going in December. Could you lighten it up a bit?

Remind them of their freedom.

For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.

Galatians 5:1

All the pretty shackles we use to decorate our hands and hearts and minds-

He came to free us from those.

The ways we would define our lives, portray ourselves to others-

He came to free us from those too.

The despair we would feel when we walk from our freedom straight back into a cell of our own making-

Yeah, He came for that too.

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,

    because the Lord has anointed me

to bring good news to the poor;

    he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim liberty to the captives,

    and the opening of the prison to those who are bound;

to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor,

    and the day of vengeance of our God;

    to comfort all who mourn;

to grant to those who mourn in Zion—

    to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes,

the oil of gladness instead of mourning,

    the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;

that they may be called oaks of righteousness,

    the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.

Isaiah 61:1-4

The coming of our Lord is a celebration of more than Christmas.

It's our Independence Day.

God signed a holy declaration in the little bundle of His Son:

"Yeah, this is happening."

There would be battles to be waged and won, but God's resolution was clear from the beginning.

He would see it through.

So those of us poor spirits in need of hope would hear the Good News.

So those of us brokenhearted would burst from the shackles of brokenness and be bound by the Heart Healer.

So those of us held in captivity to all manners of masters would be carried into the fresh air of absolute freedom.

So those of us mourners would be comforted and adorned with true, everlasting love.

So those of us fainthearted would celebrate and praise our Lord, that He may be glorified.

I'm feasting on that right now. Before I go plan and clean and, cook and bake, I feast. I feast on His Word, and on His presence. I pause like an inmate realizing the cell door has been left open. That the warden is here not just to lead me to liberty, but to carry me there Himself because honestly, I'm pretty used to this little cell. 

But what lies beyond the bars is so amazing. It's life giving. 

Now that is an Advent tiding worth sharing.

Praying that you are given the gift of pause today. Praying that those shackles on your life are not only recognized, but handed over fully to the Only One who can bear their weight. Have a beautiful day of freedom.

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Today I have the pleasure of linking up at Simply Beth for Three Word Wednesday, as well as Woman to Woman for Word Filled Wednesday, and Michell for Doing You Well Wednesday!

Cherish It

It all started with a simple card and a few pinecones, but in 1.2 seconds it became an explosion, sending it's glittery shrapnel all over our kitchen...

I've been given the gift of a unique Advent.

For most of November I resolved that this Advent would be different. That we would stop. Really stop and take stock of the important things of the season.

I just had no idea how we would do it.

I'm not really a "forward thinker." I let the tasks of today distract me from plans for the future. So while I planned to slow Advent down for our family, I was figuring on tackling the "how" when I got to it.

Then I received a gift! My sister-in-law's family gifted us with just what I needed. Just what I needed!  The Perfect Advent Calendar. That's what it's called. And she wanted to make sure I was prepared, so she gave me a heads up that I would need to look it over prior to December so I would have all the supplies ready. She is a forward thinker, a planner. Have I mentioned that I'm not?

December 1st I opened our goody box and perused the contents. My daughter and I strung the cards on the ribbon while the other two girls limbo-ed beneath. We organized the activities and I made my list of supplies to get at Hobby Lobby. (I admit I enjoyed turning a trip to Hobby Lobby into a "need.")

Now each day we pick the card in the slot for the day and perform it's directions as a family. Drive and look at Christmas lights, wear Christmas socks and take a picture, play a family game, watch a family movie, bake cookies, etc. During the family time, you discuss how this reveals God's love and grace. There's a scripture verse and a prayer. And each day is cleverly titled with a _______ it. Bake it. Build it. Deliver it. Play it. You get the idea.

None of them say Survive it, though a couple of times that has been my only goal.

Messy Monday happened last Thursday as our family embarked on memorializing The Legend of the Silver Pinecone.

After Googling the story the real fun began. Glitter sprang forth in happy showers over the glue painted pinecones. Smudged with hands, shaken onto bare feet, pressed into my neck and hair by an affectionate toddler, the glitter was everywhere.

The title of Thursday's card? Cherish it.

Cherish it.

In the middle of the chaos? The fights? The pleas? The family time that suddenly turned train wreck?

Cherish what?

The little hands, minds, hearts growing in the love of Jesus. This is what I wanted to slow down to see, and I guess it took a great big mess to remind me of that.

It doesn't take a perfect calendar to tell me to cherish. (It helps, not gonna lie.)

And as I look around me and see people going crazy over stupid stuff (that's right- I said stupid- and I'm including myself in this group of people) sometimes the biggest gift is to be reminded to cherish it because He cherishes us.

The train wrecks we are. The bickering. The grudges. The ridiculous expectations. The impossible comparisons. The mistakes over and over and over again.

Cherish what? What could He possibly cherish?

Our hands, minds, hearts. That's what. We are so incredibly beloved, especially in the messiness of life.

He is willing to go through the messes with us because He cherishes us.

 

That's worth pausing over.

That's what Advent call us to. We pause not in some holy pursuit to perfect ourselves, but because we know that when God calls us to reflect on Him, we inevitably see one overarching truth - He cherishes us. No matter what. Pure Gospel there.

That's what sent Jesus to earth, and what sends Him into the very midst of the explosions of our lives.

That's what He tells you today and everyday.

I cherish you.

Praying that the Lord gives you reason to pause and awe over His tremendous love for you. Praying He calls you loud and clear to cherish the messy moments in your life because they are reminders that He is with you in the midst of them. He cherishes you, Friends.

Holiday For Prodigals, or, I'm the Jerk

I'm about to make a radical change in my Advent scripture line-up.

I know, I know. Why deviate from the beloved Christmas story? Why postpone pondering the prophecies of the Old Testament fulfilled in that little person born in Bethlehem?

And after all, I have all year to reflect on the other portions of the Bible. Studying the birth of Christ at Christmas really just makes sense.

Honestly, I'm doing it because Christmas is a holy day for the prodigals.

Of course we have other terms for the Christmas and Easter Christians. Chreasters, Submarine Christians (they only come up twice a year- if that).

I've been thinking about that over the past few days- the beloved Chreasters- and I regret to inform you that I have been, well, a jerk.

I'm not beating myself up. I'm convicted, not condemned. But the real deal is I've become this guy:

Now his older son was in the field, and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant. And he said to him, "Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound."
But he was angry and refused to go in.

Luke 15:25-28

Now I'm pretty sure everyone loves the parable of the prodigal son- as long as they identify with the prodigal. The disgraceful idiot who squanders his inheritance, lives destitute with pigs, and finally returns home to the Father who has never stopped loving him, never stopped waiting for Him- yeah, I'm that guy.

We'd rather be the stupid one, not the jerk.

This morning I realized, I'm the jerk.

I don't pout at the door of the church, ignoring the masses whose faces I don't recognize, but I mentally tsk-tsk and want to shake them. "Don't you get it?! We get this Christmas deal ALL THE TIME! WAKE UP!" It sounds like compassion, but it is borne just as much out of frustration.

One thing is certain, I don't celebrate them. (My stomach just turned typing that one.) The packed church brings no lasting joy in the knowledge that, in just a few days, life will return to normal and the church will be half-empty again.

I guess that means that I possess the ability to look at a glass that's filled to the brim and see it as half empty.

Then I remembered this verse:

And he said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 
It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.

vs 31-32

Christmas is for the prodigals. It just is.

I'm not saying three hours a year is enough to satisfy the needs of a weary soul, or that all that makes our God worthy of praise can be summed up in a couple annual holidays. I'm saying it is fitting to celebrate and be glad because they are there, and Jesus is there, and the Father is running to meet them, which means that is what I should do.

Because I am a prodigal too.

So this Advent I prepare not only to welcome the Christ-child, but those for whom He came. People like me- who need the embrace of the Father. People like the ones Jesus was telling His parable to- sinners and tax collectors, Pharisees and scribes. People who, like the nasty dirty shepherds, sit on the outskirts of society and venture in to the crowd hoping to remain invisible rather than feel the judgment of the "holy" every-Sunday Christians.

I prepare my heart with the what-if's:

What if the shallow, temporary goodwill the world preaches about during this time of year was completely blown out of the water by the never-ending, unconditional warmth and love shown by God's people in His house and world?

What if, instead of settling for the anonymous "acceptance" of a disinterested society, people experienced the intimate, I-know-you-and-accept-you-just-the-way-you-are true love of God through His body, the church?


Wouldn't that be the best Christmas gift we could give them?

Wouldn't that embody the purpose for which He came- not just to sacrifice, but to reconcile?

It is my Advent Prayer that the Lord loves the jerkiness right out of me- out of us- so we can love with a full heart the same people He loves with relentless passion. And so, when faces of our towns darken our doors for one of the few times this year, we will not be the stumbling blocks that trip them up on their way to the manger.

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Today I'm linking up with a few friends: Woman to Woman, Doing You Well Wednesday, and (of course) Three Word Wednesday with Simply Beth. Click, join, read, write, enjoy!

Welcome to the Conspiracy {Messy Monday}

"Christmas marks the moment where God's promise was fulfilled and love took form, tiny fingers and all. "

- The Advent Conspiracy

I'm not sharing this because I am proud of it. I'm just hoping maybe there are some folks out there who relate.

See, I cried over a vacuum cleaner.

To be fair, it was a nice vacuum cleaner. A Dyson. I have four kids and a dog. It's a zoo up in here, and I thought perhaps the messy Mondays would be a bit more tolerable if I had an awesome vacuum to sweeten the deal.

I fought hard for that puppy on Black Friday. (Not literally. Online.) Dealt with slow websites, accidental page clicks, bargain hunting, forgotten passwords, typing in credit card information repeatedly.

Here's the deal though- I don't have a credit card. I use my husband's, and that's all good. Except when it asks me for my phone number and I enter my own number- not his.

That's when I receive emails on the following day telling me the amazing deal I thought I had has been cancelled due to an error with payment processing.

That's when I cry.

That's when the credit card company freezes the card so I can't order another vacuum (mine was now out of stock).

That's when my husband gets text messages from his credit card company asking if he indeed made a purchase at that retailer for that sum of money. He answers yes. The card is reactivated.

I look between him and the vacuum cleaner on screen. Back and forth. I ask, "With all the junk I've had to go through for this thing, do you have the feeling that maybe it's just not meant to be?"

He nods yes. "Give it up."

I do. I give one last longing look at the item I don't need, yet covet. I click the little red "x" and close the computer.

Saturday morning, all over the world, children were dying of cold and starvation. Dear friends were suffering from terminal illnesses. And I used those realities to try to shake me out of the funk I was in. It really was not worth crying over. But I didn't care. I was angry. I was disappointed. It just sucked (pun intended). I threw a temper tantrum over a thing.

I really should know better.

I really should have learned from last year, when I let the insane rush of the season sweep away my joy and toss it into the garbage sack of used wrapping paper.

If you think something like this just happens, you're wrong. There is a very deliberate scheme out there planned by the father of lies himself. He is determined to steal your joy- to disconnect Christmas with the Christ. To entice us to trade the profound and incomparable gift of the Savior for the shiniest new toy.

Satan tells us that spending less at Christmas, sacrificing more, will leave us less satisfied than those earthly items we desire.

And I fall for it.

Thankfully, there are godly people out there exposing the lie. Reminding the gullible me, and those like me, that there is absolutely nothing more fulfilling than the Christ-child.

So, how do I live like this with my family? How do I convince my daughter that "No really, Jesus is way better than the American Girl doll everyone else has," and make it a matter of heart- not budget?

I take her aside- out of the river that rushes her over the edge of the waterfall into materialism. I show her that what Christ has to offer is so surpassingly awesome. We don't have to take anything away from our Christmas festivities, unless it's in the same way that I vacuum the Christmas tree pine needles that fall dead to our living room floor.

I expose the Advent Conspiracy for what it is- an elaborate attempt to buy Jesus out of His own season. Out of every season.

Satan doesn't force us to do it. We do it all by ourselves.

The Advent Conspiracy website has excellent tools to help combat the excess. The gift-giving is good, sweet. I even do Santa Claus. It is idolization of it all- the moment when I take the credit for "giving" my children Christmas, instead of glorifying the real Giver- that is the danger.

(And I just have to make this note: I praise God for a husband who deliberately reminds me of all this. Who takes me out of the race, sits me down, and helps me recalibrate my priorities.)

Remembering the suffering of others, looking to the destitute, comparing our worldly riches to those less fortunate- that will never ever shake us out of our self-centered funk.

Only Christ can do that.

"In Him was life, and that life was the light of men."

John 1:4

We can't overcome the darkness of selfishness by shining more darkness onto it- God alone can overcome it by shining His own light into it. And that's exactly what He came to do!

We can't purchase our happiness anymore than we can adopt ourselves into the family of God. He came to do that too!

"But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name,

he gave the right to become children of God."

John 1:12

 

So this Advent please pray for me. I am so honored to have wonderful people interceding on my behalf. And I'll make you a deal- I'll pray for you too. May we be a mighty army of believers who let the light of the world shine in and through our lives and so experience a more fulfilling Christmas than ever before.

This is Advent, or, Excuse the Mess

Panic coursed through her hands as her thumb hit the blazing red “end” button on her phone. She tossed it onto the kitchen counter and swept the room with her eyes. Not now, she thought. Seriously? Why is he coming now?

Janet had called her with the news. The Mayor’s son was in town for a visit, and everyone knew what that meant- Inspections. That’s what most people called them, Inspections. No one knew just why, but anytime that man came around he just insisted on getting into people’s lives. Most people assumed it was so he could size them up, so they called the phenomenon Inspections and the name just stuck. Just the word sent shivers down her spine. She looked around again hoping, even praying, some of the clutter would magically disappear. But it didn’t. It just sat there like it always had, piling higher and higher.

When did I turn into such a hoarder?

Most of Natalie’s neighbors had told her about the Mayor’s son, with vastly different descriptions. Sometimes she wondered if He even existed. Some said they invited him in and he was just the most pleasant man you could ever meet. But she had seen their homes. They were beautiful, immaculate, at least from the outside. How could he not be impressed with them? I wonder what people think of the outside of my house? Could they tell she was a complete mess?

Others said he was rude, what with all that knocking. He knocked and when they answered the door he asked them to come in. Imagine that! Uninvited, he would just show up and expect them to treat him like someone special. And the way he acted like he knew them just made them angry. They smirked when they reported how they just shut the door right in his face.

Some didn’t even answer the door.

Was it out of fear? Natalie wasn’t sure how she was going to handle this, but one thing was certain- he was coming her way. At least, that’s what Janet said. Janet also said to just let him come in. It’s easier than fighting it. But Janet hadn’t been in Natalie’s world for some time now. She didn’t know what Natalie’s house contained and how everything had somehow spun out of control.

Better get started. Natalie set out into the living room and got to work. Putting things in their place, she smiled with pride when one whole corner of the room was organized. She stepped back to admire her work when she tripped on the stack of magazines behind her. She fell into another pile of clutter and began to sob.

It was then that she heard the steps outside. Her heart ran laps in her chest, threatening to leap right out. She couldn’t catch her breath. Not yet. Not yet!

There was a pause. Maybe someone was just passing by.

Then it came. The knock. It wasn’t loud, yet it lingered long in the air. Reverberating in her soul and shaking her to the core. She sat there, covered in junk and salt water tears, frozen in fear. No one had been inside in so long. No one ever asked to come in. This was too much. Instinctively, she grabbed the nearest magazine stack and covered her legs. She opened the nearby box of Christmas ornaments and began dumping them, gently so as not to make much noise. She then stuck the large cardboard box over her head. Her body sat there, completely covered. Maybe he would think she wasn’t home and just go away.

She sat there several minutes while the knocking continued. This is ridiculous, Natalie, she thought. You are a grown woman. Go open that door. Still, the thought of exposing her secret life to the Mayor’s son was more than she could bear. She spent so much time hiding, so much time secretly judging herself, comparing her mess to the lives of all the people out there who had their acts together. She couldn’t handle any more judgment.

Another minute of knocking passed as she thought up a plan with a little more dignity. She crawled out of her heap- she was just going to tell him to go away. It was simple. Other people did it all the time. It was the holidays after all- she had enough to worry about without accommodating extra company. Surely he could understand that.

With each step, Natalie could feel the tremors of the knocking shaking her knees into submission. They almost completely buckled. She grabbed the doorknob, pressing her body against the door for support. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly she turned the handle and began to pull.

She opened the door just wide enough to stick her head through. When she finally opened her eyes she started. Nervous laughter escaped her body. She caught herself. “I’m sorry,” she chuckled. “I thought you were someone else. Can I help you?”

The man smiled, sporting little more than a five o’clock shadow.

“Actually, Natalie,” his voice was rich with humor, “I was wondering if I could help you. Would you mind if I came in?”

She froze. Then her smile fell. She slammed the door and locked it.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! She caught her breath and peeked out the peep hole. He was still there. Sneaky in his jeans and sweatshirt. Still, she managed to face the Mayor’s son and not die of embarrassment. That was an accomplishment. She wasn’t sure she could face him again though. She knew she couldn’t. So she called to him through the door, “Uh. Yeah. Excuse me? I’m sorry I just… listen… I’m just kind of busy right now and I’m not really ready for… guests. So if you could just come back later, that would be… great. Ok? Bye then!”

She watched out the peephole as he turned around and headed down her sidewalk. Oh good, he’s going. To be sure, she would watch until he was out of sight. He stopped. He was bending down. What was he picking up? It was a bag. A bag? What, is he camping out? She watched as he lifted the duffel bag to his shoulders and walked back up the stairs to her front porch. He dropped the bag and sat on her steps.

He’s getting comfortable! It hit her that he wasn’t going anywhere soon. She sprinted into her living room and began picking up her junk, throwing it into closets, out the back window. Anywhere. Just to get it out of the way.

That’s when she heard his voice again, calling through the door, “You know, Natalie. You don’t have to bother cleaning up for me. I’m more than happy to come into your home as it is.”

Yeah, you haven’t seen it yet. She plastered on a fake smile, hoping it would give her confidence. She hurried to the door, unlocked it, and popped her head out. She couldn’t look at him, so she turned her eyes downward.

“Ok, thanks for your interest and everything, but you really need to go. I am just really busy with the holidays and presents and family and all that other stuff. You know, giving. ‘Give give give’ I always say.” She laughed nervously. “So, maybe you could come back when things aren’t so busy.”

“When will that be?” His question seemed sincere. She thought about it. He answered his own question for her, “The truth is, you will always be too busy for me if you choose to be. I don’t plan on going anywhere, Natalie.”

“Is that why you have that bag there?”

“This? Ha, no. I was hoping to move in.”

Slam.

Natalie leaned against the shut door. Her back slid down the cool wood until she sat in a heap of nerves. She was trembling. Was she having a heart attack? Surely this shock was going to kill her. How dare he go around to people’s homes shocking them to death. Knees too shaky for walking, she crawled across the living room, into the middle of her stuff, and in an exhausted ball she closed her eyes and began to cry.

It was the gust of wind that stole her from her misery. Her aching eyes searched the room until they landed on the front door. That’s where he was standing. He was looking at her. No smile this time. She thought for a moment he was disappointed with her. But that didn’t seem to be it. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice the mess at all. He was looking at her and only her.

“You forgot to lock the door. You couldn’t hear the knocks above your crying, but I’m here now. I want to take care of you.”

For a second she thought she should just kick him out, but inside she knew she didn’t forget to lock the door. No one had ever come for her before, and part of her hoped he would. He did.

She placed her hands on the floor and pushed herself up onto her knees. She began picking up her ornaments, her tears flowing freely to the floor, when she felt his hand on hers. "Excuse the mess," she managed to whisper.

"I already have." He knelt beside her, took the ornament, and set it aside. Then he put his arms around her and cradled her to Him. “There will be time for all this later, Natalie. For now, just sit with me.”

And for the first time in her life, she felt peace.

 

 And again Isaiah says,
“The root of Jesse will come,
    even he who arises to rule the Gentiles;
in him will the Gentiles hope.”

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.
Romans 15:12-13

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Today's story is linking up with Simply Beth for Three Word Wednesday, as well as Word Filled Wednesday! Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and I will see you on Monday:)