At Home

Home beckons. The door is always open. No need for pretense, home is where you are known. Home is nicely worn in, easy and intimate. It bids you to tarry, pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable. Home is an open invitation, stay as long as you like as often as you like.

Home is a refuge, a trusted covering. Loyalty stands, resolute. Trust never sleeps. Vulnerabilities are protected and instabilities shored up. Home is where love casts out fear. Home is where another always seeks your best.

Home is where the din of the outside world is shut out. Peace lives here. There is no striving to make your voice heard. Even words unspoken are readily understood. Home is where the struggles cease and the battle is over. Lay aside you troubles, you are home.

Home is full and rich, a joyous melee of loved ones and laughter, music and motion. The blessing of a happy home will not be contained, nor should it be. For home is where life begins and hope triumphs. Home is the blessing that begets other blessings.

Home is where we learn to love. Here, love covers a multitude of sins. Home is loving and being loved, because of and in spite of, at our best and at our worst. This is love without border or condition. This is the foundation, the history, the heart.

To my husband,
Much time has passed since we first met, the intersection of our lives being the most singular gift of God’s Grace this side of Heaven I will ever know. From that gift, came countless others. I still believe I am the luckiest woman alive. I’ve tried to put into words what this means to me. Here is my best attempt:

For thirty-three years we have built our life together,

And I am at home with you.

Happy Anniversary!

Blood Moon Manna

About a week or so ago, as my daughter-in-love and I were leaving with the kids for a trip to the beach, I accidentally backed into her car. Not just any car, their new (to them) car. A beautiful car with nary a scratch nor dent. A car that my son and daughter-in-love were so happy to have purchased. A car that fit and served their family’s needs perfectly.

To say that I reacted poorly would certainly be an understatement. I was mad at myself for being so careless. I felt sad that I had damaged their car. Oh, that sickening CRUNCH! When the reality of what you’ve done is solidified.

My struggles with sin and failure over the previous few days welled up and spilled out, a mixture of anger, frustration, helplessness, and tears.

Of course, my son and daughter-in-love responded graciously. My husband (as always) reacted calmly. But I was not about to let myself get off so easily. I beat myself up pretty good over it.

About 5:30 the following morning, I received a short text from my son: “Blood Moon now if you’re up.” In this case, it was a super blue blood moon, a total lunar eclipse. Yes, I was up and soon positioned myself outside on the balcony to watch.

The morning air was not uncomfortably cold. It was still dark, but I could hear the world around me beginning to stir. I thought about the people starting their work day. How many of them would completely miss the astronomical wonder unfolding above them?

I thought about the kindness of my son’s reminder. I thanked the Lord for him and my daughter-in-love, for my husband, my other two children, all my grandchildren, and for the undeserved Grace and privilege of being a wife, mother, and grandmother.

I remembered what I had been reading earlier that morning about how the children of Israel complained to Moses, “…you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.” I thought about God’s gracious and miraculous provision for them, Manna. I thought of my own grumbling heart and how the LORD had always  provided for me in spite of it.

I tried to imagine our solar system, the planets, sun, moon and stars all following their appointed course. My imagination wondered at the immensity of the universe and marveled at the power and wisdom of the One who created it.

I thought about the grandiosity of the Great Artist’s rendering unfurled above me, His canvas the dark morning sky, His subject the moon, His brush dipped into the richest of purples and reds to paint a celestial masterpiece no mortal could ever hope to duplicate.

…all things were created through Him and by Him. And He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.
(Col 1:16,17)

I felt small sitting on my little balcony, my life a tiny speck in the grand order of things. I realized I had come outside hungry of heart, but how long can a soul go unfed in the glorious presence of such a God as this?

When I look at Your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him? (Ps 8:3,4)

And so it came to be that my soul was put at ease. I rested then, my hunger satisfied and my heart warmed by peace that passes understanding.

This, my bread from Heaven. Blood Moon Manna.