Sanctuary

I saw heaven today. The mulch was soaked, but they ran about anyway. They smiled, laughed, screamed, yelled, tagged, climbed. It was a joyous scene. We’d been cooped up for several weeks due to rain and cold temperatures, so a break from our four walls was long overdue.

The space above us was free and wide, no limits. The air was cool and fresh, but not at all harsh. The sun hid behind the overcast sky, but it’s warmth was still recognized.

I told them not to roll on the ground, but there they are, on the ground laughing because a group of them ran into each other. I laugh, too.

If only I could linger here a little bit longer. To watch them be kids. To watch them be free. To watch them play. To watch them frolic here and there and back again.

They remind me of an open space above my own head. A place I get to embrace here where I am. A place where I am free and joyful. A safe haven I get to call my own. It is my home. It is the very breath I breathe. The place where I am loved and chosen. The place where I am heard and known.

The presence of God.

The One in the Fire

An array of emotions fill my heart and mind tonight. Just a few moments ago I found out that one of the states is closing school for the remainder of the year.  I cannot explain to you how this crushes me.  I know the legislature is working right now to exempt state testing for the year, among other things.  And all I can think is I would give anything to give that test to my kids this year.  Because that would mean that we are together in our classroom.  A week ago things were so normal.

Friends, these are uncertain days. They are full of unknown.  They are full of “what-ifs.”  And so I am trying to lean in to God on what to think, feel, and do.

I will tell you this.  Whatever grips your heart this moment. Maybe it is because of the virus outbreak.  Maybe it is from the tornados that ripped through our state just a few weeks ago.  Maybe you’ve recently lost a loved one.  Maybe you are battling a disease.  Maybe your anxiety is through the roof.

There is One who stands in the fire with you.  He will stay with you until you are lifted out.  He will not leave you or forsake you.  You are not alone.  He knows your fears.  He knows each night you can’t sleep.  He knows.  And He loves you.

I pray that during these times, we can learn to be thankful for each day and live it fully.  I pray that we can learn to love each other in creative ways.  I pray that we are looking to the Father for what to do each day so that we may glorify Him in the midst of the fire.  Let us learn humility so that we might share.  Let us learn to rest.  Let us learn to rejoice in the midst of the chaos. And let us learn to depend on our Father for our daily bread.

But more than anything, I pray that we draw nearer to God, so that when we come out of the fire, we will be changed forever for His glory.