The House He's Building (04. 13. 12)

(A year and a bit later, I'm thinking this is one of those lessons I'll be learning my whole life long.)

Things are changing. Or maybe it's just me. No, I mean really maybe it's just me. Things are different. I've been hearing that I've changed since my life took a different turn in January-leaving my university, taking an unexpected semester off, living apart from my family, trying to be gone for most of the summer, and trying to figure out what next semester will look like. Or maybe it was even before then. All I know is tonight was different.

Ok, so...where do I even begin? I've been learning so much, yes. More, in a lot of ways, than I learned in my college career thus far. Within the classroom at least. But so much of what I have been learning comes down to these 3 things, which are all tied together in the end: 

1. Seeing more (and maybe for the first time ever) how fully I am fallen. I basically suck. I suck at knowing how to handle life, suck at following through at what I know is right, and suck at…well everything. Finally truly realizing  that I can never ever be good enough to win God's attention or affection. 
2. Jesus. Do I have a relationship with Jesus or rules that 'prove' a relationship, as one man recently brought it into such clear perspective? Forget religion. Forget doing the right things because you "know you should." Because you're trying to impress the whole world, and you never ever will. But Jesus stands there saying to us, "Be with Me. Spend time with Me, and watch and see, I will change you. Trust Me. You become like what you behold. And everybody's worshipping something. Will you let it be Me? I don't want to make you into the best version of yourself you can be. I want to make you like Me." They're completely different orders, completely different standards to attain. I can be a better version of me, maybe. But like God? Like the LORD who loves endlessly, is totally just, completely pure, never falling or ever once failing? Impossible.
3. Grace. There is grace. There is grace enough for my failures. That I knew. There's grace to cover it,  Jesus paid the debt. I am justified before God because of that. He doesn't see my sin. Yes, yes, yes. Like checking off a list, I got it. But I missed the whole point. It's like seeing it's raining but not seeing the purpose behind the rain-to bring growth, to make flowers bloom, to give water, to give life. 

There is grace enough not only to cover me, but to change me. I don't have to fix myself. I don't need to. Here is the intersection: I am more screwed up than I ever would have dreamed before. There is Someone who loves me anyway. With Him, I am free to be myself-with all my failures, all my screwups, all my questions, raw emotions, and fears. He is not running and He is not leaving. He loves me. He is staying, for good. He died for me, once, long ago. And now He lives again. If He's done all of that for me, why would He ever abandon me now?

But the story isn't over! He is not only staying with me, but He is redeeming me. He is taking the broken parts, and there are many, and healing them. The twisted parts? He's like a blacksmith, heating them up, smoothing them out so they are right again-and useful. He even uses them! The dirty parts...He's not cleaning, but replacing. I didn't get it for so long. He's not patching me up--He is making me over.

C.S. Lewis says it like this:

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” 

He is making me a palace for Himself. That's why it's ok to be where I am-a sinful human being, who is so very much still trying to understand this way of life; who fails (sometimes in a very embarrassingly noticeable way) SO often, but is undeservedly adored anyway; a heart who looks to be fulfilled everywhere else except for that One who adores, though she has tasted and seen that nothing else satisfies. Because that is who I am. That is who I am today, tonight. That is who I will be tomorrow. But each day, each moment that I spend with Him...is the tiniest bit closer to being that castle, that masterpiece  fashioned with such care that it essentially shouts of the love poured into it. It unintentionally yet plainly shows the time and effort it took to build. Because when you look at it, you don't just say it's beautiful. You exclaim over the workmanship, admiring the intricate carvings, the time it must have taken to carve them out and get each one just right. You ponder the cost of this castle home. You wonder who would build such a glorious place. You want to meet this builder, to ask him about these treasures it holds. For in seeing where he lives, this home he built with his own two hands, you're seeing a reflection of him. He did not only pour his time, effort, and resources into this place-in doing so he poured his heart and soul into it too.

His name is Jesus. I am the castle still being built. Right now I look a heck of a lot more like a bungalow than a palace. But He has the vision of what is to come. I'm His investment. He gave His whole life for me. And He has already paid the entirety of what it will cost to make me a palace for His possession. And so if my faucet starts to leak again, is He going to throw His hands up in despair, say He already fixed that once, get disgusted and leave? Of course not! 

Perhaps this is where the castle-house metaphor ends. 

All I know is today, after looking at how good Jesus is, and being challenged to follow Him and being reminded that nothing else satisfies, I found myself in a spot where I had two options: pursue Him at all costs, or do what I wanted which I KNEW wasn't beneficial, knew wasn't good for anything, but was just "what I wanted"-and for no plausible reason. The temptation wasn't that strong, but the more I looked at it, the better looking it got. But why did I begin to stare at it, to consider it? Why didn't I see it and run; why didn't I set the eyes of my heart back on Him?

I decided that He was not enough. He would not satisfy like x, y, or z. Those things were better than Jesus right now. They would bring more satisfaction. And so I chose to break what He had made over in me before. I decided I liked my dirty shack more than the palace He was building. It's sad, but it's true. The wonder is that when I finished throwing my fit and tearing apart the work He had done and found that getting what I had desired did not satisfy...He just whispered to my heart, "Darling, why did you think it would satisfy like Me?" Anything else is a substitute for the real deal. And a crappy one at that, to say the least. WHY would we want that? WHY would we want that when we could have HIM? 

We may have lost the vision. And we certainly will along the way. The good news is He doesn't walk away. He is changing us, making us over, redeeming even the most termite-infested, mold-ridden parts of who we are. And He will not rest until He has finished the work He has already begun in those of us who have opened our hearts to Him. We are His treasure. 

So open your doors. Throw open every window (and throw off every sin that so easily entangles). Seek Him, His heart. SEE what He has done. Love Him for loving us. Be willing to be changed. And trust that HE will do the work.

Oh yes. Things sure are changing around here.

04.13.12

Hi. I know, I know. It's been a really long time since I actually wrote something.
Well, that's only partially true. You see, I've been writing. I'm pretty sure that's something I can't actually stop doing anymore. But to be frank? I've been scared.

Pouring my heart out is still hard to do when I can't control who's going to see all the pieces, who's going to look inside. But I'm doing it. Because He's done so much, and while some of you have seen it, lived it with me, others of you have not. But it's worth telling. The things He's done are worth telling. 

And that's what He's made pretty clear: The things He teaches me? They're not just for me, just about me. They're for you who despair, you who are tired of working and striving and trying to be good enough. They're for you, yes, you there, whose heart needs a lift. They're for you who think you've run out of grace, cause you've gone too far and been away from home too long. They're for those of us who like to think that we have it pretty together. For those of us who think we've got this follow Jesus thing preeeetty figured out. And maybe you do. Maybe you've already learned these lessons. Who am I to know? All I know is this: they're for each of us who need to be reminded that He is good. He's not done. He hasn't stopped or left us alone to fend for ourselves. And He will finish what He's started in us. He will. He is bringing us home. And making us like Him in the process. 

All this is to give you an intro: over the next few weeks I will be starting to post things that have been written over the last year or so. Things I'm ready to share. And hopefully, as I continue on this journey, I can share things with you when they're a bit, um, fresher. :)

 Come, friends, let's move further up and further in-- together.

"Come further up, come further in!" 
― C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle