I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free! Psalm 119:32, NIV1984

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Not My Home

It's been one of those days.  Before I walk out the door into the humid morning, I grab my necklace off the counter and catch it on a doorknob.  The silver snaps.

At the pool storage closet, sweat runs down our backs and drips down the sides of our faces as we lug tents to our cars.  The bags have already ripped along the seams.

In the sweaty mess of hauling tents, the prayer bracelet that I'm wearing in preparation for camp . . . the one with the name of the student for whom I'm praying specifically . . . the bracelet just like the ones we wear every year that make it all the way through camp and the river and the mud and the rocky cliffs . . . that bracelet falls right off my wrist.  The glue doesn't hold.

Home quickly to let the dog out and check email . . . then off again . . . but I can't find my shoes.  The dog has them under the table.  He's enjoying one of my shoes as his morning snack.

And I drive to the church wondering about this broken world . . . about silver that snaps and tent casings that rip and glue that doesn't hold . . . about my sharp tongue that should be refined as silver before the Lord . . . about hearing stories at the poolside this morning of cancer treatment and how what's meant to heal can hurt, these bodies just broken tents not made to last . . . about families I love who have decided that the glue wouldn't hold and have ripped right apart down the middle.

I think about shoes with holes in the soles . . . and kids with holes in their souls . . . kids who'll go to camp next week to escape their broken homes and kids who'll go because their parents just desperately hope someone will reach them . . . kids with soul-holes that can only be filled by the Mender and Healer of Broken Things.

So I grab the orange duct tape and fix the yellow prayer bracelet.  And I pray that our God who makes all things new, our God who does so much more than duct-tape-fix what's broken, will refine us as silver . . . that He'll take these broken tents and make something beautiful . . . that the One who is before all things and in whom all things hold together will be the glue to mend and to fill and that He will reconcile to Himself all things. Because it's been one of those days . . . the kind that reminds me:  

This world is not my home.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappearedAnd the sea was also gone.  And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.  I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, "Look, God's home is now among His people!  He will live with them, and they will be His people.  God Himself will be with them.  He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain.  All these things are gone forever."  And the One sitting on the throne said, "Look, I am making everything new!" 
Revelation 21:1-5, NLT


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