Casa Dulce Casa

Home Sweet Home
Riding the 34 tram home from the store this evening I saw a store with that name. It caused me to stop and think about home. Right now, there are so many different places to call home. Romania, Prague, Hutchinson, Minneapolis, Prior Lake, and Crystal all feel like home.

I'm back in my apartment in Bucharest and it's starting to feel like home again. Though in the back of my mind, I'm really aware that it's only temporary. In six weeks I'll be moving out of my apartment. Along with that awaeness comes the reminder that I don't know where I'll be living in two months. I don't know where I'll be working. I don't know what kind of car I'll be driving. I don't know...

That feels really scary. I want to have a home that feels welcoming and refreshing. I dream of the comfort of not living in the midst of unkowns. For many years, I got pretty good at ignoring what was happening within my heart. I didn't pay attention to the desires deep in my heart. It would be easy for me to try and convince myself that the desire for a home isn't one God would want me to have, but I don't think that's truth. I believe that this desire is an echo of the desire for an eternal home, for the home of a perfect environment like Eden. I believe parts of it will be fulfilled here on earth and other parts will need to wait until eternity. The desire is there and I'm choosing to recognize it and wrestle with it.

New Seasons

Spring is on the way! There's hope that winter won't last forever, even in Minnesota. This week flowers started blooming just outside my window even while the snow was still melting on the lawn. The creek that flows down the hill from my house is running quickly and is high on the banks. Spring is probably one of the most anticipated seasons, especially in locations where the ground freezes and snow piles higher during winter months.

As I was thinking about changing seasons this evening, I was reminded of the many seasons in our lives. I'm in the middle of a changing of seasons in my life. For the past eight years I've been a missionary serving in Bucharest, Romania. I've loved the learning and growing that's happened in my life. In just a few short months, that season of my life will conclude and the next season will begin. I'm still a little unsure about what this next season will look like which makes it hard to let go of the previous season. Though I'm certain this is the way God's leading, it still isn't chalenge-free.

Spring is so anticipated and we wait expectantly for warmer days, budding trees, and the appearance of green grass. We have grown comfortable anticipating the spring around us and yet I wonder if we're ever anticipating the changing of seasons in our lives. I know I'd much rather stay in the comfortable seasons of life than expectantly hoping that God will change things up and start something new. It's not encouraging to think that everything could change. I feel God challenging me to start to think differently, to be expecting change and to look for it with anticipation instead of dread. It's my hope that we would all be in places of willingness for God to move in our lives, and excited about new things beginning no matter what our current season.

Restless

by Audrey Assad

You dwell in the songs that we are singing

Rising to the Heavens, rising to Your heart, Your heart

Our praises filling up the spaces

In between and frailty and everything You are

You are the keeper of my heart

And I'm restless, I'm restless

'Til I rest in You, 'til I rest in You

I'm restless, I'm restless

'Til I rest in You, 'til I rest in You

Oh God, I wanna rest in You

Oh, speak now for my soul is listening

Say that You have saved me, whisper in the dark
'Cause I know You're more than my salvation
Without You I am hopeless, tell me who You are
You are the keeper of my heart

You are the keeper of my heart

And I'm restless, I'm restless

'Til I rest in You, 'til I rest in You

I'm restless, I'm restless

'Til I rest in You, 'til I rest in You

I wanna rest in You

Still my heart hold me close

Let me hear a still small voice

Let it grow, let it rise
Into a shout, into a cry

And I'm restless, I'm restless

'Til I rest in You, let me rest in You

I'm restless, so restless
'Til I rest in You, 'til I rest in You
Oh God, I will rest in You

I've had a couple of nights of restless sleep recently and it's not something I enjoy. As I was sorting papers this evening, I came across a reminder of this song and appreciated the reminder that I need to find rest in God. Though my circumstances might not be rest-giving, I can choose to turn to God for rest. It kind of goes against the grain...letting go and surrendering, trusting that if I rest God is more than able to work on my behalf and that I can cease striving. What an incredible promise.

Detours

Sometimes there are bright orange signs along the way warning of an upcoming detour, preparing you for the change that is coming. Sometimes it seems the road closed sign appears from out of nowhere with arrows pointing off in the distance, leading to a detour. Those unexpected detours can be a most frustrating event. They can leave you confused and irritated, wondering why you hadn't seen the detour coming and wondering if you'll ever make it to where you wanted to go.

In life, these detours often come in the way of unexpected phone calls, emails sent in the middle of the night, or a surprising announcement. It’s just enough to catch you off guard, to perhaps cause you to stumble for a second before finding your bearings. Sometimes it’s a short detour, a matter of minutes before order seems to be restored. At other times the detour is a longer path, perhaps never returning to the original course.

One such detour happened in my life yesterday. I woke expecting a day of connecting with people and enjoying the company of friends. Before I could set out to enjoy those joyous events, an email came that sent my mind on a detour, imagining possibilities and trying to figure out different scenarios. I found myself caught in a huge shift in plans, feeling excited and overwhelmed all at the same time. The shock wore off a bit today as plans proceeded a bit more normally and I was able to steer back onto my planned path for today—working on grad school assignments. The detour isn’t far from my mind and it leaves me wondering whether I missed the signs. Were there signs along the way that God was trying to use to prepare me for this change? Was I too focused on my destination to take notice of flashing lights and neon orange signs? Perhaps I wasn’t meant to have advance notice. Perhaps it was a way for God to draw my eyes to Him, to move toward trusting Him instead of depending on my own strength. Perhaps…

Invisible made Visible

It's been awhile since some things were visible. Driving down Brookridge Avenue yesterday, I saw for the first time in months the white chain link fence in front of a neighbor's house that adds to its charm.  Christmas decorations, once just barely protruding above the piles of snow are now fully visible (and a little out of place for St. Patrick's Day). My house number is once again visible from the road (instead of being hidden behind snow shoveled from the roof into piles higher than my head). The babbling brook down the hill from my house is flowing quickly downhill, making up for lost time frozen in place. Grass is peeking up from beneath the blanket of white. Birds are reappearing from the winter hideaways. You can actually see what people are wearing becuase the heavy winter coats of the past few months are being left at home. The signs of spring are everywhere and it brings with it hope of a new season.

The life of faith is often one of trusting in the invisible. Most of us haven't seen God and it sometimes seems when looking at the hurt and pain in the world around us that God isn't in control or even aware of what's happening in our lives. In the next moment, the invisible is made visible. Suddenly, there's a ray of sunshine, a word of hope, a confirmation of God's love and acceptance. It's still a walk of faith, but I'm thankful that God doesn't leave us on the journey alone; he's a constant companion, pointing out the beauty in the midst of suffering, the glory in the midst of pain. It's not an easy journey, but from my perspective, it's so worth it!

Picture taken March 17 driving through my neighborhood :)

The Road Less Traveled

There is a lot of comfort in staying between the lane lines, of knowing exactly where the road is headed, and of being able to follow along with GPS directions.  When snow covers the road, removing even glimpses of those guiding dashed white lines, I find myself longing for the comfort of the known, the ease of seeing instead of guessing and hoping I stay on my part of the road and the other drivers stick to theirs. Main highways offer security--marked exits, warning about upcoming roads, and information about distances to nearing cities.  Less traveled gravel roads don't come with any guarantees.  Without a map, there's no way to know what roads might intersect until you happen upon them.  No way of knowing what towns lie ahead.  I'm not likely to turn off a main highway in favor of a gravel road heading off into the distance. 


I can remember back a number of years to an opporunity to share with my home church about living in Romania and I quoted Robert Frost's famous poem:
     Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

     I took the one less traveled by,
     And that has made all the difference.
Certainly taking the road less traveled makes all the difference. It's often not well-paved or lit.  No one has bothered to paint lane lines.  There might be long stretches when you don't pass others.  And yet, in the journey of taking the road less traveled, we learn to walk by faith instead of by sight. We learn to trust that God knows where the road is leading and instead of needing to be in control we can surrender.  We begin to cherish the people God brings into our lives--those who walk beside us for long stretches and those whose lives just briefly intersect ours.  The road less traveled might be bumpy and dusty, leaving us weary and worn.  God faithfully provides rest stops along the way, bringing healing and restoration to our souls.  It's scary and there's part of me that longs for the ease of the road well-traveled...but I don't think there's anything that could convince me to turn back now.

Killing Mosquitos

When they first start to show up I have such a vengeance for destroying them.  I want to ensure they are nowhere near my body, have no chance to take anything of mine.  Slowly, they wear me down.  Instead of seeking to obliterate their lives I somehow get to the point of being ok living with their presence in my life.  Instead of turning on the light and hunting every last mosquito down, I pull the sheet over my head and resign myself to hearing the incessant buzz until I blissfully fall asleep.  Last night I sat outside and the mosquitos showed up.  I noticed them around my face and dealt a number deathly blows to those settling on my legs and arms. It was only once I stood up that I realized my flip-flop clad feet had been attacked. Some bright mosquitos had searched out the easiest place to attack and had survived without even my awareness of what was happening.

I've been reminded recently of the battle raging, of the enemy prowling around to attack.  It's easy to identify a lion roaring toward you and certainly a lion's attack won't go unnoticed. Mosquitos can sneak under the radar and attack--perhaps not a deadly blow but certainly a blow that takes energy away from what could be, that causes us to spend time itching and swatting instead of living. While a lion's attack might be a traumatic event, the mosquito comes quietly whispering lies and subtly backing up those lies with a series of events that don't seem all that bad initially.  The cumulative effect is devastation.  No doubt about it, the enemy is alive and well and is using any means available to attack us.  Last night I was intent on killing the mosquitos around me.  I pray for eyes and a heart that enable me to kill the whispers of the enemy as well, to stand and continue to protect against the roaring lion as well as the buzzing mosquitos.  I'm so thankful that God hasn't given me that job alone.  Not only is he with me in the battle, I have a wonderful community around me that is supporting me in it as well.

Finger Painting

Fresh pots of paint, clean fingers, visions of artistic grandeur...and so the process begins.  Strokes added with care, colors mixed and swirled, picture taking form...the process continues.  Finishing touches placed with care, pots closed, hands washed...completion.

Waking up this morning, that was the image on my mind...finger painting.  I've been wrestling with remembering.  The past seven years in Romania were incredible...on so many levels...growth, challenges, fears, relationships, learning, stretching...  If I think about my time in Romania as a painting... The yellows might be new friends brought into my life: Rhonda, Carmen, Ky, Jen...  The pinks are success stories with students: Brandon, Daniel, Grace...  The greens could be areas of growth: faith building trials, leadership.  Black are clouds of conflict and pain.  Oranges are slices of hope: new apartment, small group, visits from friends...

As I remember all the pieces somehow the picture starts gets skewed.  Instead of seeing the individual pieces of the painting, the intricate color choices, I walk away from my memories with a single color sense...darkness.  Picture the colors of paint all stirred together as often happens when little children sit down to paint.  Though yellows, greens, and blues have been chosen with care, when mixed together, it all looks brown.  Brown isn't generally selected as a favorite color.  It isn't often selected for pictures beyond tree trunks and houses.  It isn't cheerful and bright on a dreery winter day.

I don't want it to be all brown.  I don't want to look back and feel darkness.  I want to remember the brightness and light, the hope and growth.  It's taking some effort to sorth through the memories, a resolution to fight a battle in my mind.  I want Christ's perspective instead of my own so that as he leads I'll willingly follow, completely trusting what comes next, excited about the color choices to come and the picture to be painted.

Ice Dams

As my cousin prepared to leave her house for the year, we walked through a document of information on how to care for various parts of the house.  Some pieces of information were seasonal--what to do when it starts to snow or when everything starts to thaw.  I was told to watch the amount of snow on the roof and be aware of ice dams.

It's an understatment to say that we've had a lot of snow already this year.  There are multiple feet of snow piled on the corners and everywhere possible.  Mailboxes are just barely visible.  As I drove in and out of the garage, it looked like a lot of snow on the roof, but I didn't stop to calculate how much was probably resting there.

Last week, as I sat ensconed in warmth inside my house, preparing for Christmas I heard a soft new noise, kind of like dripping.  It's not the first time I've been startled to hear a new noise in my house, so I didn't feel too concerned (first problem).  As I finished packing, I figured I better identify where the noise was coming from before leaving for a few days.

As I walked around the front entry, I found that the noise was coming from the front door, where it was leaking in the house---not a good sign.  I called my parents, asking for their help over the phone and then went up on the roof to investigate.  To even get up on the roof, I had to clear a bunch of snow from the balacony and garage roof.  I then created a path up the roof toward the front entry area--no real fear of falling since there was probably 1-2 feet of snow covering the entire roof, preventing sliding.  So, to fast forward just a bit...my father and I spent around 24 'man-hours' on the roof, clearning the snow, chopping at some icy areas, installing heat tapes, and putting salt on the ice. I was so thankful to have his help!

As I look back, I wish I had better known how to prevent the problem.  I wish I had seen the ice building up and recognized it as the ice dam it was, creating problems inside the house.

I had all the information I needed.  I was told to watch for ice dams, and I was watching.  I just didn't know how to identify an ice dam.  I knew I needed to avoid them, but didn't know how to recognize them. My watching was kind of pointless.

I fear sometimes that's how I live my spiritual life.  I know I need to watch out for the attacks of the devil.  He's cunning and is seeking to destroy followers of Christ.  I know that he is the father of lies.  And yet, as I try to stand guard and be prepared, I don't always know how to identify his attacks. 

Just like others driving by my house probably easily recognized the ice dam forming on the front of my house, others often see attacks in my life for what they are before I understand.  That's why we need each other.  We help each other do the work of standing guard and of dismantling the ice dams (attacks of the enemy).  Alone the task feels daunting and impossible, but in community, our enemy doesn't stand a chance!

I pray that God will continue to open my eyes to be prepared and stand strong against satan.  I pray that he will enable me to stand beside my brothers and sisters and lovingly encourage and support them.  What will you do?

White as Snow

I recently wrote the following in an email update:

It’s been wonderful to be in Minnesota this winter to enjoy the brilliant white snow (and family, new friends, and so many other wonderful blessings!). During the big snowfall (8 inches) last week I was with my sister and her family in Hutchinson, MN. As it began to snow shortly before lunch, I wondered how long it would take until the grass was no longer visible. It took only a few hours. As we went out to play in the snow later that afternoon after snow blowing the driveway, I marveled at the incredible beauty of the snow. My drive back to the Twin Cities was incredibly beautiful. I wondered at how the landscape had been transformed.


Isaiah 1:18
“Come now, let us settle the matter,”
says the LORD.
“Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool.


With such a perfect picture of the pure whiteness of snow, I found myself meditating on the incredible gift of forgiveness. I pictured my sins like the blades of grass. They stuck up, completely visible, before the snow began falling. The snow covered them in such a way that they were no longer visible. How wonderful to imagine! But even greater is that not only are our sins forgiven and cleansed, we don’t ever have to worry about them again. Unlike the grass that will certainly be visible with the coming of spring, we don’t have to worry that God is going to bring up sins he’s already forgiven. They’re cleansed, taken care of, for good. Wow! What amazing grace!


May God continue to draw us nearer to himself. May we be quick to seek his forgiveness and the forgiveness of others. May we live in the security that our sins have been made white as snow…not by our own effort, but through the work of Jesus Christ on our behalf.

As a snowstorm hit Minnesota this past weekend dumping 16-20 inches of snow on the area, it was amazing to continue to reflect on this idea.  The 'whiteness' of the snow is overwhelming at times--there's so much of it!  It's being trucked out of the city and off the roads. 
 
It is neat to picture Christ 'dumping' his righteousness on us (not trying to take lightly that incredible gift), in such amounts that we can't question whether our sins have been forgiven.  They're removed, forever...with pure whiteness, holiness.  Whoa!