Wednesday, December 13, 2017

The Tree


Over the last two years I’ve continuously gone back to a single concept - a tree.

When we lived in our old house I would sit on the porch and look out to the oak tree that stood at the front of the yard. I loved it. I was so drawn to it....I blogged about it once (lol).



Then came the tree outside of Jubala. I used to work at Jubala - a coffee shop in Raleigh. There’s a tree that stands right across Hillsborough St. to the left of the bell tower. Nothing special about it. It just caught my eye one day. I thought to myself, I want to be like that tree. In the midst of the chaos of cars rushing down Hillsborough Street it stood strong and steady. It was rooted. I want to be steady in the midst of the chaos of my life. I wanted to be strong and rooted.


Months past and I hadn’t thought of trees that much. Until one morning I spent some time writing...I thought back to that tree outside of Jubala. “What was it about that tree?” I never once looked at that tree and thought, “Wow that tree did a really great job growing itself. Well done.” No. My mind ALWAYS went straight to it’s Creator. I was always drawn to awe and wonder of who God is when I looked at the tree. Then WHY when I look at people in my life who look so much like Jesus do I miss it. I miss that they were made by the Creator. Somewhere along the way I start to worship the tree over the Creator. I miss it. Instead of my mind going straight to the God that made them and wired them I stop short and slowly begin to worship them. I begin to form an idol.
And hear me say that I am GRATEFUL the Lord has placed so many people (trees) in my life who look and live so much like Jesus does. But my vision gets blurred and I try to do everything in my power to imitate that tree that I think I should be like. When in actuality, God has made and wired each tree differently.

My sister sent me a few quotes the other day that she learned in class:

“We’ve divorced the beauty of the creation from the Creator himself.”
“We have to recognize the desirability of something as a reflection of God.”
“Recognizing the source instead of shaming...that EQUALS overcoming temptation.”
“Reordering the desire instead of shaming the desire.”


God not only created the tree but He’s within it. The desire for me to love, learn, and be drawn to trees is wired within me. They scream of their Creator. They have Jesus within them and I’m drawn to that. That’s not a sin. And I won’t let the enemy try to make me feel shame for that. These trees are REFLECTIONS of God.

Then what is the root/source of me consistently missing the Creator and stopping with worshipping just the creation?

Do I trust that He notices me, recognizes me, longs to be with me? Do I trust that that is enough? Or do I stop short and satisfy myself with the tree’s recognition?

I know that this thorn will be present til the day I see You face to face. I will never be fully satisfied or fully noticed. Earthly love will always leave me longing for more. There will always be the temptation to feast on the love and affirmations of trees around me. And I know that’s You within them. Give me new lenses to recognize the reflection more clearly.

Rather than wallowing in shame and confusion I will instead recognize the root, the source of my desire -- to be loved, favored, and wanted -- and I will rest assured that these earthly loves are only shadows and reflections. I will recognize that only YOU can fulfill this longing. No human being, no job, no reward.. This is a thorn. And I see it. And I won’t hide it in the dark and I won’t wallow in my sin. I will choose to pursue the all-consuming love of God.

I will continue to surround myself with trees who look a whole lot like their Creator. I will watch and learn and see the Jesus inside of them. But I will not worship them. I will fall to my knees at the One who made them and wired them differently and uniquely.

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Advent in a Sunrise


I got to spend the last 24 hours at a family friend's PARADISE of a mountain house for some solitude. I was craving a time and a space to clear my mind and to just listen. I was told I wouldn't regret it if I woke up to watch the sunrise. So I set my alarm last night and journaled this morning post-sunrise:

I never want to forget this morning. Seeing a glimpse of red light from behind the curtain, gasping, and jumping out of bed...hurrying to not miss the sunrise. Eagerly coming upstairs, setting the water to boil my tea, all while simultaneously locking eyes at the view just off the deck. "I don't want to miss it." I got a spot on the deck set with blankets. Waiting. Watching. Expecting. Excited. I didn't want to peel my eyes off of those mountains. I put on "It is Well With My Soul" (I know. I know. This sounds cheesy and #basic but I don't want to forget the details).

I eagerly awaited to see more than just the tempting red and orange hues. I was waiting for the sun. A bright, eye piercing (not exaggerating) RED tiny sliver popped up behind the mountains. I sat up higher in the chair, so incredible that I second guessed if that was the sun. As it started to rise, I wrapped my hands around my mug and watched intently as the words, "It is well. It is well with my soul" pierced my heart. Yes, I nodded. Indeed it is well with my soul.

Then like a scene out of a MOVIE a white streak from a plane was heading upward. At the same time, 4 or 5 birds looked as if they were flying out of the sun and towards the left.

Awe. Absolute awe. Jaw dropping awe. Birds were chirping. Psalm 130 came to my mind:

"...My soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning,
more than watchmen for the morning.."

I thought to myself, "I bet the birds do this every single morning. A celebration, a tell-all-your-friends excitement, the sun is coming, look! Morning and a new day is here!" The beauty of it is neither we or the birds ever have to wonder or second guess if the sun will rise. Every single morning it will.

As I sat down to write today I went to put the date at the top and wondered, what is the date? Then it hit me and I remembered - Dec. 3 - the first Sunday of Advent. A coincidence? That I was eagerly awake and expecting the sun's arrival. And with holy fear and wonder, I sat in awe of it's arrival. Coincidence, no. Divine, yes.

Oh how I long for this to be my posture this season. As sure as the sun will rise, You will come. I was up every few hours last night (probably bc I was scared alone in a mountain house lol). I was just waiting for it to be morning. And just like last night, I want my every waking day to be an eager expectation, an awaiting of your Glory. I will sit up. I will look up and out. I will keep my eyes peeled on You. I will celebrate and sing.
What if each morning and day this season, like the birds, we too eagerly awaited the Son's arrival with holy fear and wonder?

[Luke 1:46-55 Jb Phillips]
Then Mary said, “My heart is overflowing with praise of my Lord, my soul is full of joy in God my Saviour. For he has deigned to notice me, his humble servant and, after this, all the people who ever shall be will call me the happiest of women! The one who can do all things has done great things for me—oh, holy is his Name! Truly, his mercy rests on those who fear him in every generation. He has shown the strength of his arm, he has swept away the high and mighty. He has set kings down from their thrones and lifted up the humble. He has satisfied the hungry with good things and sent the rich away with empty hands. Yes, he has helped Israel, his child: he has remembered the mercy that he promised to our forefathers, to Abraham and his sons forevermore!”

Monday, April 24, 2017

Postmates- delivered right to ya



Ever heard of Postmates? It's a 24/7, on demand delivery that will bring anything to your door. I've used it 3 or 4 times, this morning was one of those. I put in a Postmates order for an Americano from Jubala. I watched the website process and this wheel labeled, "searching for drivers", spin and spin and nothing connected. I assumed the Postmates drivers were probably sleeping in, or just might not be out braving the rain. With an, "ugh" I exited out of the website and shut my laptop screen. "I guess I'll take the time to make a French Press instead." Disclosure: Jubala is 3 minutes from my house...it was RAINING ok?! Lazy...first world...entitled...extra...diva...I know throw all the labels at me. I'll take the hits.

To be honest (real honest), it's always a hit or miss with me and this dang French Press. I either execute an incredibly great cup or an incredibly weak-spit-it-out-of-your-mouth cup. I've come to the conclusion that when the latter happens..I am usually overthinking it. Not enough water...too much water...ground are too coarse..ground are too fine...did it bloom long enough? I worked (in the kitchen) of hands down the best, one of the most "prestigious" coffee shops in the area...with some of the best baristas. And yet STILL I fail to create a good cup of coffee. I know all the terms, all the techniques, have watched countless how-to videos, and even had a lesson or two from some of my barista friends.

Needless to say this morning was a MISS, a big fat L for my French Press and I. When I lock eyes with that sucker it's like I know I'm going to come out humbled on the other side. So I sat in my chair and sipped (choked) (kidding it wasn't that horrible just not up to par after drinking Jub coffee the past 5 months) the subpar coffee as I read.

AND THEN THE LIGHT APPEARED and Carley opens my door holding the yellow cup, "uh your Postmates guy has been BANGING on the door." My jaw drops and I explain how I didn't think the order went through. I looked to the right at my French Press and then to the left at the mediocre big ol cup of humble. I drop (placed, I placed) my mug down and reached my hand for the yellow cup of liquid gold--I mean espresso. Still with the bitter, slightly watery french press coffee taste in my mouth, I take a sip of my Americano made by the very talented barista friends of mine and I LOL. Because I mean I know by default, anything in the yellow cup is GOOD, but it's even better when up against my horrid taste of, "I'll try next time" french press coffee.

You know..it's not impossible. I COULD make a cup each morning that's as good as what's in the yellow cup. I've got all the tools, all the how-to notes, and correct ratios. I overthink it. I assume the default position of: this isn't going to taste good..why try. And I always rely on somebody else to make it for me.

Sometimes I think I do the same thing when walking with Jesus. I overthink everything. I'm an internal processor and sometimes that internal processor in me becomes a breeding place for lies to run rampant and lies to trample over the truth that I know to my core.

I've read the blogs, I've gotten the books, my eyes read the truth every single morning, I have some of the most Christ like people around me to watch and to learn from, I know the techniques, the best practices, the podcasts, the sermons.....and yet still sometimes when my day ends I feel like I chose to drink from a mug of incorrectly made coffee when the yellow cup was right in front of me all along. I chose my flesh over the Spirit, the lies over the truth, the slavery of my mind over the freedom.

But, then there are days that come to an end that feel like I've been drinking from the yellow cup all day long. Days where I kept my eyes and mind fixed on the truth, where I chose to live by the Spirit and not my failing flesh, where I didn't reach to put on the mask, where I lived as I was created to be, where I received the freedom that was right in front of me, and where I didn't overthink or believe the lies.

I want more of the yellow cup days. The days where I am being who I was created to be, drinking deeply of the grace and goodness of Jesus. Days with the mask off, where I am fully seen and fully heard. Days where I don't worry so much about the techniques, ratios, how others do it...and days where I simply receive the gift that's been delivered and placed right in front of me.