(found this in the other journal-the one meant for no one’s eyes but His.  slipping it in quietly here between posts.  reference on Abraham-see Genesis 12 & 20.  thank you for grace.)

To go anywhere, to do anything, comes in quite a different package than one might expect.  and like Abraham, i am afraid and reason with the logic i’ve learned.  still, Abraham’s God is my God, and He consistently comes to me.  HE comes TO me.  even when i do not call on His name. 

oh the grace.

 i fear and i fall back into the mold.  the truth is, Christian, what we really want- is not found in the way we think it is.  the thing our hearts are longing for, truly hungering for.  instead, what we are settling for is an allusion. but we, of all the ones who should, we don’t believe it.  we/i don’t.  trust.  Him.  i am missing joy.  i want joy.  but i don’t want what it costs.  it’s not quite worth it.  why?

because i haven’t experienced it yet?  it’s promised land, but i want egypt instead?  because i don’t know what i’m missing, i’m ok to miss it?

instead, well… see below-all the illusions i want.

all these lovers that call to me, that distract me, that numb the longing that was beginning to awaken.  like a sleeping dragon-it’s a bit unpredictable, and too costly.  it may cost my Christian fellowship.  but not really, i’m much to hard on them.  i think too low of them.  why do i do that?

what in the world am i talking about?

i’m writing.  pretending that i am a writer with something to say.  even tho i believe that i can’t possibly say anything that hasn’t already been said, and better i might add.  i’m still sitting here pretending to be a writer.

why?

oh my Lord, my heart-it has offended Thee.  You are worth much better.  i bring it here, honestly here-bearing it all-the shame of it all.  trusting in Your love to not fail, Your death to cover, Your life to redeem. 

what i need-is YOU.

”You say….you want…..diamonds in a ring of gold
you say….you want….your story to remain untold
your love not to grow cold.
all the promises we make, from the cradle to the grave
when all……I want…..is you.”

Bono’s deep voice rings out the lyrics in my head.  they come, not as intended by him i think.  i’ve been ungrateful.  i’ve wanted all these things mentioned.  at least a variation of them. 

i read of others.  who’ve sold out.  who’ve been radical. 

and i speak to myself-“you’ve not got what it takes to follow hard-to follow that far.”

the cost.

my wants.

the guitar and base play the interlude. 

when all He wants is me.  

i feel like i’m in that interlude.  that place of waiting-wondering.  how will the story be written?  who will write it?  the tension, the longing for the adventure worth fighting, the redemption winning.

yet not really. it grieves me to admit it, but it is true.  my heart is fickle, and the little gods still need taken down.  so many still to take down.

the interlude is playing in my heart and the One who gave all for love of this heart-He waits. 

                for all
       He wants
is me.

She’s come home.  But she doesn’t know it yet.  she paces, she cries, she scratches to get out and go back to where she came from.  not only does she not know this place, she does not know us.  so she does not know yet that she is safe and loved…….

 and home.

 she didn’t ask for this today.  she doesn’t know how good it will be.  she had gotten used to her foster home.  she had gotten used to their smells, their routine, their noises.  she doesn’t know this.  today started out like any other.  it even included a bonus-car ride!  But then, then it’s a new car and the ones she knows left and here she is with these new people.  she likes these new people, but where did her old people go? 

After about 3 hours, she settles enough to lay down.  eventually she settles enough to rest her head.  finally, she follows me into my room, i sit at my desk, and she settles herself onto my bed …… and sleeps. 

Welcome home Lady.  we will love you well.

 When has your day/life been interrupted-only to discover later that what you were given was better than you dared imagine?

“You’ve been weighed on the scales and found wanting.”  (some translations read deficient)

 This was quoted in the movie ‘A Knight’s Tale’, but even before that, to King Belshazzar in Daniel 5.

 We’ve been undergoing a bit of analysis lately.

~There was the dog rescue organization who conducted 3 interviews with references and performed a home visit.
~there was the police officer on the road headed up to our cabin
~There was the building inspector-inspecting the cabin for completion of the permit.

found wanting as fit dog owners
found wanting as responsible/safe drivers
found wanting as competent builders.

to be fair, the rescue organization did approve us-so we weren’t too wanting.  the police officer was lenient (dropped ticket from 15 over the limit to 9, even after i gave him the registration for our camper rather than the car and an insurance card that is 2 months expired).  the building inspector returned for a second inspection and did finally pass us.

amongst all this ‘analysis’ i find myself frustrated.  but the more i thought of it, the more i realized that constantly i am being weighed on someone’s scale-and consistently i am found wanting.  and even if i did actually move to Alaska far removed from all civilization, i would be left with myself.  i’m always measuring myself-and you got it, wanting/deficient. 

and the choice ever before me is what am i going to believe.  who’s assessment is entirely accurate? 

The One who actually KNOWS-He’s weighed me.  He’s not denied that i come up wanting, but He has declared that i’m worth it. 

worth suffering for
worth emptying Himself for
worth dying for
worth living for
worth helping
worth loving
worth pursuing
worth furiously longing for
worth finding
worth loving

i’ve been weighed on the scales, and been found worth it.

 i think i’ll listen to Him.

driving home, the boys were getting a bit too rowdy for me today.  i am struggling to discern if the problem is me, or them.  anyway, i yelled back to the back seat- “Boys!  geez, could you think of the person who is trying to drive up here?”

my youngest replied with a snarky remark.
so i stopped the car and told him he could walk the rest of the way home (it was only 4-5 blocks)
his brother decided to join him so he wouldn’t be by himself.
as i drove away they did not appear to be upset in the least.

when they arrive home they know that they will have to apologize, and in our home the sorry must always be accompanied with specifically what you are sorry for.

 the older one’s went like this;

 “I’m sorry mom for driving you crazy, will you please forgive me?”