More.

I struggle with believing. I know so very little. I am, however, convinced of the following.

There is more.

(People don´t remind me of this enough. And so I become adjusted to the self-righteous status quo and satisfied with a slightly above-average level of good deeds and efforts. I do just enough and achieve just enough to consider myself completely happy…most of the time.)

There is more to life, more to God, more to true Love…more than has ever met your eye or entered your imagination.

(Most people don´t look for the “more.” And so I don´t look either because such a search wouldn´t be applauded or understood. I fear the risk of pursuing something Intangible, because what if it´s actually not there?)

Whether you are smiling or crying, brimming with faith or full of doubt, in love with the world or in love with Jesus, indifferent or intrigued, a redeemed sinner or a hollow saint, or anywhere in between…please take a moment to consider—there is MORE.

(People like me gloss over their emptiness and others are overwhelmed by it. Either way finds us wasting away our days and years acquiring more things, debts, pride, experiences, blessings, human knowledge…but missing out on the “more” we were destined for.)

If you have glimpsed a Love of a different order—there is more to be experienced. If you have been disillusioned by people you trusted or ideologies you believed—there is more to life. If you have inherited a blurry or contradictory picture of God´s character—there is more to God. If you think you know what real love is—there is more to true Love. There is more in the limitless heart of God. Undeniable Love? Breath-taking depths? Safe places? Yes, there is more.  

The Gentleman

“Here, let me get the door for you.”

The fact that it was a car door threw me off. No one had ever intentionally quickened their step in order to open a car door for me. Weren´t things like that usually done for ladies in formal dresses on special occasions, not for girls in mud-covered hiking boots on ordinary days? It felt strange and—being rendered temporarily speechless—I got into the car without even a word of thanks.  

Controversial discussions on gender dynamics aside, I have a growing respect for sincere gentlemanly behavior. Such behavior is truly an above-average blend of respect, honor, and humility, and should never be considered antiquated unless somehow we no longer find those three traits meaningful. Interestingly enough, the same three traits also characterize a dying mode of behavior among women—ladylikeness.

Flashback to the first days of 2014. The wind was biting cold and I was openly shivering as my sister, two cousins, and a friendly middle-aged couple stood waiting for the bus to pick us up from outreach at GYC-Orlando. I was not dressed warmly, I admit…but who would have expected such freezing weather in Florida? We chatted with the couple and the gentleman calmly took off his thick, flannel-lined coat. With one confident movement he placed it around my shoulders while saying, “Could you hold this for me?” I was not speechless that time and gave him my sincerest smile and thanks.

These instances have left an impression on my heart. They bring to mind another gentleman I´ve been privileged to know. He takes His own robe and covers my rags, all the while being sensitive to make me feel like I´m doing Him a favor by accepting His gift. He is not too proud to give me more chances than I deserve when I despise His Love and grace. He offers to carry my burdens. He willingly forgives. He is valiantly protective of me and yet always gives me the right to choose. He offers a strong arm whenever I am weary. He hurries to open doors for me and yet knocks patiently at the door of my heart instead of demanding entrance. He leaves spring flowers where He knows I will find them and be delighted (which makes Him more than just a gentleman, but a romantic gentleman at that).

It feels strange…being the recipient of such behavior…but it melts me every time. What can one do with such a God—such a Gentleman—but Love, serve, and be devoted to Him forever?      

 

This heart is home

Three porch steps before bursting into the house with a whirl of spring night air. I untie my green shoelaces and toss my shoes by the door. In a matter of seconds my coat is hanging in its usual place and my hands are catching warmth from the woodstove.

Being outdoors is amazing, but what is inside these particular walls is home.

 
I hear the voices of my dad and sister talking upstairs. I have no idea what they´re saying…but I know it is a pleasant exchange of words.

I head up to the room I call mine. My fingers automatically find the oddly-located light switch behind the door. The book is where I left it. Papers and miscellaneous objects still cover my desk haphazardly. I lie down on the carpet and begin to read.

I realize that one reason I am happy in this house is because no one questions my presence here. No one has ever told me I didn´t belong here. When I leave, no one has required me to go elsewhere. When I return, no one says that my place has been filled by someone else.

The peace of knowing this structure exists (…that I can come back to it, dwell in it, sleep in it, play the piano in it, be quiet in it, feel safe in it, and play Battleship with my nephew in it) is striking.

I wonder if Jesus could ever find such a peaceful and assured dwelling place in my heart. Can Jesus confidently stride into my heart without knocking, kick off His shoes, and be warmed by my love? Or does He still feel just like a guest? Could Jesus ever softly say, “The splendor of my Universe is amazing, but what is inside this particular heart is home. I am safe in this heart. I am happy in this heart…because no one questions my Presence here.”

“But will God in very deed dwell with men on the earth? Behold, heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain thee; how much less this house which I have built!” II Chronicles 6:18