If you missed it...you can read Part 1 here.
And Part 2 here.
"And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am."
John 14:3
"Forgive me," I say to Him. "My thoughts haven't been here lately. The world has been a kinder, gentler place. For the first time in weeks, I heard the birds again and imagined the sky was blue again, and I didn't want to come here. I knew You were going to show me painful things about You, about me, about my world You are changing. For a moment, I wanted peace. I wanted my aching muscles to heal from carrying burdens that we have been lifting together. But something happened the other day, and I realized how much I missed You."
He takes my hands in His.
"There is pain buried so deep," I explain, "that sometimes it feels like it bubbles up and is going to swallow me whole. I try to cover it with joyful things, hopeful thoughts, and busyness, preparing for the best, forgetting the worst. And then- a word, a smell, photograph, a memory. I can't erase them, I can't forget them. They are there to remind me how human I am, how much I need You, how I need to rely on your strength, and not my own."
He is so patient with my wandering heart. "There is no shame in wanting to prepare for what is to come," He softly whispers. "But the purpose in preparing is not to cover up the past or to fill your mind with so much of the present that you forget Me. Preparing is meant to fill you with hope- Hope that comes only from Me. Please, let Me show you."
We walk to the river bank where stones lay scattered. They are stories and lessons waiting to be unearthed and shared. He picks up a marbled yellow stone, dappled with creams and browns, and lifts it from a shallow puddle on the river's edge and places it in my open willing hands. Years of letting the river flow over its speckled surface have worn away its rough edges. It is smooth and round and firm and sure of itself.
"Home," He says. "Your home. Your home tells a story of My faithfulness, an earthly place I have prepared for you. Will you tell me the story of your home?"
I am thankful He wishes to start the day's lesson with a warm and happy memory.
I sigh as I think of all the ways He has blessed me with my home- my old yellow farmhouse with wide pine floors and exposed brick chimney, that rests on twenty acres of land that is teeming with pine, oak, maple, and holly. "There is no way I should be so blessed," I begin, "to have the home that I do. It is my favorite place in the world, in the town I grew up in, on the street I grew up on, on the land that that my ancestors settled on hundreds of years ago. We should have never been able to afford it, but You prepared a way for us to live here."
"And how did you prepare your home for Me to live there?" He asks.
The question is a strange one, and I don't know if I understand it thoroughly, but I try to answer Him honestly. "I remember a time when I distinctly and purposefully invited You to live here, in each room. It was when we were preparing to become foster parents. It was the first time since my babies went to live with You that I imagined my house could be filled with children one day. I remember feeling so alone in this empty house that felt too big and wanting so badly to feel Your presence with me. After so many children were taken away from this home, my desire was to create a place where children that were going to live here would feel how much I loved them, and how much You loved them. So I walked in each room. And as I walked, I talked with You."
A growing smile slowly causes His lips to part and eyes to widen. I can tell He remembers, but I continue talking because I can tell He is enjoying my memory of that day.
"As I walked into the kitchen, I prayed that I would be a good cook- that I would prepare healthy, nutritious meals that would fuel us to do Your will. I imagined little ones sitting on the counter, helping measure out sugar and dumping it into bowls, flour on cheeks, giggles, and sharing cookie dough on spoons....
I remember praying in the dining room and asking You to join us at our table each night, that our conversations around it would be pleasing to You. And I imagined asking about days at school, and loving to hear how excited my little ones would be as they learned new things....
I prayed in the living room that it would be a comfortable place to gather as a family. That there would be lots of kisses and cuddles and games and laughter and blanket forts, and not a lot of television-watching there that would rob us of the time we would spend together....
I remember praying as I walked up the stairs that you would protect my little ones as they learned to walk up and down them carefully....
I prayed in their bedroom that their sleep would be restful, that their dreams would be sweet. I prayed that they would feel loved and secure and safe there. I asked You to help me to teach them to pray there, how to thank You for their blessings, share their worries, and lay their burdens at Your feet....
I prayed that my bedroom that I shared with my sweet husband would be a sanctuary and place to enjoy our marriage in the fullness that You intended...
And I even prayed in my bathroom that You would help me use every opportunity, even when giving my little ones baths, to teach them that they are worthy of being treasured and honored and cared for."
I walk towards our foundation, carrying my speckled yellow stone as I talk. I lay it down gently, not wanting to damage the perfectly smooth surface. "You heard me." I suddenly come to the realization the moment I lay it down. "Everything I asked, You heard me. You are there with me in that house, aren't you?"
He nods, smiling. "Every time you utter My name, I hear you. And I'm with you. In each room, in each new day, with every moment you share with the family I have given you. Every time your home and heart seem empty, I am there. It may not always feel like it, but I am there."
He takes my shoulders in his hands, turning my gaze away from my stone and towards His face. "But that's not what this stone is for. Your earthly home is a only a shadow of things to come. If I took it away, My faithfulness would remain. The earthly possessions I give you now are only to teach you about the Hope I have stored for you. Because, dear one, I am preparing a place for you Here the way you have prepared a place for your children There. I walk and I talk with the Father, and I ask Him that all the places that you and I will walk together Here someday will show you the breadth and depth and fullness of the love I have for you. You will not be disappointed. I can't wait to show you." I can tell His thoughts drift to a thousand different places. He is imagining and preparing in His heart and mine for all the things He wants to show me.
I smile now at the the thought of tomorrow. I can prepare. I can hope. I can dream. Because He is already there now, waiting for me- behind me, next to me, before me... all at once.
"But until that day comes," He says, His eyes narrowing towards a horizon filled with stones, "Let's keep stacking."
