Leave.

"....my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children at play. My hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you, about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love others more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God. We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn't it?

It might be time for you to go. It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out.

I want to repeat one word for you:
Leave.

Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn't it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don't worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed." -Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts

And so I find myself. On the cusp of doing just this: leaving.

It's bittersweet. In some ways, it's devastating. Thinking about leaving my family who has done nothing but overwhelm me with grace and goodness. And my friends-like-family who have laughed, cried, eaten, slept, and prayed alongside me. Who have challenged me and encouraged me and inspired me to live the good life. Imagining a tough day when I can't walk to the Union Starbucks for a comforting arm around my shoulder and life-giving words of affirmation. Wondering where I'll go when I just want to let down and "be." I'm leaving so much more than a city on a map.

But at the same time, it's glorious. It's freedom. It's adventure. A chance to shake out complacency and start fresh. A chance to experience new people and new ways of doing and being. A chance to climb mountains and waterfalls, for crying out loud. A chance to experience God anew. When I'm lonely, He will be my Friend, and we will go on this adventure together. After all, He goes far beyond the cornfields of Northwest Ohio. Not to mention, going to school for the things about which I am most passionate. Loving people. Seeking Truth. Knowing God.

So, my dear friends. I invite you to join me on this journey. I don't promise that it won't be messy. I don't promise it will all be mountaintop experiences (pun fully intended.) But it will be good. God will be good. And we will meet again, somewhere, someday. We'll have stories to swap. Some things will be as they have been. Other things will change. But we'll embrace the journey together as we wait on this side of heaven.

A story I could live.

I remember it clearly. It was the second day of IndyCC, December 29, 2008. It was late in the afternoon, I had already been to two talks, and I was ready to take a nap. I told my friend Sara, though, that she should go hear Steve Rieske talk about the Grand Story of the Bible. Steve was a cool dude on cru staff whom I enjoyed listening to and playing facebook Scrabble with, so I thought she should go check it out. Last minute, I made the decision to go with her. I picked up a $6 grande soy chai latte at the Starbucks in the hotel, and grabbed a seat.

Little did I know that this hour would forever change my life. As Steve started talking about the Bible using phrases such as "yearning for Eden," I felt like he was speaking a foreign language. To see the Bible as a story of the redemption of humankind, not just a bunch of Sunday School lessons with good moral lessons, awakened something deep within. And that God was inviting me into this story was incredible. This was a story I could live.

Donald Miller often explores the idea of writing a 'better story' with your life. If I wanted my life to tell a better story, what better way than to become part of THE story God has been writing since time began?

A story that began in the garden, where man walked with God in the cool of the day. Where man rebelled against God and broke the perfect relationship he had with both God and his fellow human beings, and himself became broken. Thus Death entered the world. But God (one of my favorite phrases in the Bible) had a plan. He would set a people aside for Himself, dwell among them, teach them His ways, and show them what it meant to be His people. They rebelled time and time again against the God who had showed them nothing but unconditional love. He punished them. He showed mercy. They repented. The cycle repeated. But God would not relent. He would pursue these people because that is who He is.

And then He entered the human experience. Becoming one of us, He put on flesh and walked among us. He taught, healed, and performed miracle upon miracle. And then He died, a perfect sacrifice. Three days later, He arose as King, victorious over death itself. And with His resurrection, He imparted resurrection life through His spirit, that those who were dead: those separated from God, enslaved to sin and self, hopelessly broken, unable to reach God, might be made alive. That they might have intimate fellowship with their Creator. That they might join in the work of transformation, becoming agents of hope and renewal. Ambassadors of God Himself.

This was a story I could LIVE. Not a faith that says, you're saved, now just do some good stuff until heaven. No. Heaven is here. The Kingdom is here. There is work to do. And He wants to do it with us and through us. Trying to fit God into my story is fiercely insulting to who God is, and leads to a religion of death and dissatisfaction. Taking my place in God's story, however, leads to life and peace. Not to mention adventure.

Today, as I listened to Steve tell the story once more, maybe for the last time... my mind wandered back to that afternoon. I think of what that Story has inspired in my life since that afternoon in Indy, and I am deeply grateful. I have heard him tell the story dozens of times since then. Sometimes I groan because I can anticipate his every word, but once in a while, it captures me once more. The deepest parts of my being resonate with its truth. The love, the mercy, the wonder, the hope, the triumph: it is a story worth telling over and over again. It must be told, for it is what we were made for. It is, indeed, a story worth living.

We know what is coming behind the crocus...

“This is why I believe that God really has dived down into the bottom of creation, and has come up bringing the whole redeemed nature on His shoulders. The miracles that have already happened are, of course, as Scripture so often says, the first fruits of that cosmic summer which is presently coming on. Christ has risen, and so we shall rise.

…To be sure, it feels wintry enough still: but often in the very early spring it feels like that. Two thousand years are only a day or two by this scale. A man really ought to say, ‘The Resurrection happened two thousand years ago’ in the same spirit in which he says ‘I saw a crocus yesterday.’

Because we know what is coming behind the crocus.

The spring comes slowly down the way, but the great thing is that the corner has been turned. There is, of course, this difference that in the natural spring the crocus cannot choose whether it will respond or not.

We can. We have the power either of withstanding the spring, and sinking back into the cosmic winter, or of going on…to which He is calling us.

It remains with us whether to follow or not, to die in this winter, or to go on into that spring and that summer.”

—C. S. Lewis from “God in the Dock”

...behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two

And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit.
And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And the earth shook, and the rocks were split.
(Matthew 27:50-51 ESV)

The curtain is torn. The curtain to the Holy of Holies, the most sacred place in the temple where the Most High God makes His dwelling. God is no longer elusive. He is unveiling Himself to the world, nailed to a cross. And I can go to Him, weak and wounded as I am.

And knowing that, my friends, is enough to make Good Friday truly Good.

Breaking down spring break.

Detroit.

Desolate. Burned out. Dead. Deserted. Forgotten.

Mack Ave.

Rising up. Renewing. Restoring. Preserving. Resurrecting.

The days.

Demolishing. Disposing. Engaging. Laughing. Painting. Eating. Showering.

The nights.

Sardines. Ice cream. Slamball. Music. Conversation. Prayer. Sleep?

The team.

Eclectic. Hard-working. Family. Life-giving.

The experience.

Refreshing. Memorable. Worthwhile.

I am a tree.

Grace usually appears more beautiful through a broken window of a soul. When I am needy and don't do the things I want to do, grace is a sweet song floating through the air. His love is oxygen to the soul.

But on days when heaven feels near, when I feel as if I could touch the sky, I have an inner sense of achievement and victory. Though my mind knows the brutal reality, my heart tells me I am whole, put together, and have things figured out for the time being. I feel happy with Jesus, but also with how awesome I am for supposedly climbing to the top of some spiritual mountain.

Today was one of those days dripping with life and freedom found only in Jesus, but ya know what made it even more precious? Beginning to grasp the fact that my true inner condition does not merit being drenched in living water. That I am just as needy and disgusting as I am the days my soul is weighed down and yet God chooses to cover me in His grace and make my spirit soar...is mind boggling. It makes no sense to a world of people trying to climb to the top of everything.

But it shows who God is. He chooses to love out of concern for His glory, if for no other reason (credit to Steve Rieske). The days I shy away from Him out of shame and timidity, He wraps His arms around me and won't let go. No matter how much I try to wriggle away.

He is jealous for me. Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy...

My Dear Child,

Today is not the day you will finally get it right. You will not arrive at perfection before you go to bed. In fact, you will spend your time chasing worthless things. You will think of yourself first and forget about those I have placed around you. You will forget about Me and try to make things work alone. You will be selfish, arrogant, and prideful. You will say things you regret and leave kind words unspoken. You will think thoughts of greed, comparison, and discontent. You will take your eyes off Me.

But today is a day I will show you Grace in abundance. Though you will forget Me, I will never leave you or forsake you. When you fail to abide, I will carry you. Though your mind will get lost in the worries of the day, I will quiet you with My Love. When you become anxious and afraid, I will remind you of Who I Am in the sunlight dancing through the trees, the birds singing, and the vastness of the sky. Though your flesh may be selfish, My steadfast love dwells within you, and I will transform the world by it. Though your words may be flaky and careless, I will speak words of Life through you. I will hold your hand, and you will not fall.

These things I do because you are Mine, because you are precious, and I love you.

Rest, child. My grace is sufficient for you.

--

"My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." -Psalm 73:26