Playdates With God: Home

The air collides hard with the window panes this morning—slides down the glass in shattered rivulets.
We’ve been doing a lot of praying and worry rests heavy on the brow and just the other day I asked God, “Who would want this?” Who would? Who would look at my life and want to be a Christian? How can I be a good witness when nothing comes together easily? God was quiet on the issue but I sensed Him as my underpinnings and I took that as a reminder of how He holds me together.
It’s just that lately I can’t seem to find the beautiful and this feeling of empty is when faith becomes an anchor. It’s all the little foxes that keep nipping at my heels and I know it’s the same for everyone but after all this time—after all this study—shouldn’t my eyes be tuned to the way the Divine moves in these moments?
Just yesterday I sat among God’s people and waited to give them a Word. He met me there—in these faces I’d never seen before. It was the first time I would preach outside of my own church walls and I thought I’d be nervous. Never mind that I told them to sit when they should stand and stand when they should sit—they all looked at me with kindness and love. It felt like an embrace and as I waited for the time to deliver the message, a young woman played Ave Maria on her violin and right there it was—beauty. Right there in that little A-frame church with the Blenko stained glass transoms. That music had fingers and they passed over my spine and trailed lightly along my skin. I closed my eyes and felt the Spirit inside of me lift up to meet beauty right there.
And, oh, this is how God moves—lifting on air and winding in and out of strangers and making them family.
Isn’t this how worship should be? To call on the One with the deep spirit-voice inside and call on Him with one voice?
I’ll never forget that first time away and how music stretched my definition of home. And when these little foxes nip and snap at me, I close my eyes.
And Beauty meets me once again.

I’m reviewing a book about recovery from pornography addiction today at The High Calling. If you or someone you know has struggled with this, you might like to read this

How do you embrace the God-joy? Every Monday I’ll be sharing one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It can be anything: outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find Him. Be with Him. Grab my button at the bottom of the page and join us:
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Sharing with L.L. Barkat today also: 

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  1. says

    Oh honey I know, I do. I get so frustrated sometimes, so down. I think, jeepers, shouldn’t it be easier than this by now? Shouldn’t I be better at this? Haven’t I learned anything at all?

    What I have learned, though, when I am in those fox-nipping spots, is to do exactly what you did: wait in faith. Wait in faith for beauty. It always appears. He always appears.

    Love you, Laura.

  2. says

    I feel this with you. That guilty feeling of circling back around to truth when I think I should already know it. Diana Trautwein said this to me once and I’ve held it close to my heart: Life is a spiral, you know? We keep circling around our core issues. The beautiful thing is,it takes less time each go-round. And this: It doesn’t make you unsuccessful as an over-comer (the circling) – it marks you as quite human, it reminds you of your dependence on God and others. And Laura, your feeling His presence in the violin playing seems to be just that.

  3. says

    I love how you said that God stretched your definition of “home” to include the new place you were. Isn’t it such a blessing that His body is universal and when you meet brothers and sisters in Christ, you connect instantly. We just returned from vacation and had the same experience of being “at home” in new churches. Thanks for sharing! Hugs,

  4. says

    Home really is wherever His people are gathered, isn’t it?

    And simple faith and trust really do trump knowledge and insight, every time. Knowledge is only beneficial to the extent that it teaches us to more quickly yield to His Spirit.

  5. says

    I know what you mean about those little foxes. Sometimes the slow grind of everyday irritants can hang us up more than real trouble. Music is truly a supernatural gift that is able to transport us out of those stuck places, and I love the way you put it, “how music stretched my definition of home.” Beautiful post from a beautiful sister!!

  6. says

    You who have such a beautiful spirit — it never ceases to amaze me how fearful you get of your own inadequacies, when you have so many talents you use well, and when you project such thoughtfulness and caring.

    Part of your feelings (and mine) are Satan’s little darts to make us want to give up. And part comes from our background or temperament or faulty body chemistry or past hurts. But I believe God allows this to keep us humble, to keep us turning to him instead of thinking we’re trusting him when we’re really acting in our own supposed competence.

    So glad you were given the gift of being uplifted! Blessings today, Laura.

  7. says

    Beautiful, Laura! If we take the first step toward Him, He is there, running to meet us with open arms, giving us exactly what we need when we need it, speaking through violin arias or kind faces.
    Thanks for the great post & for hosting the linkup, & God bless!

  8. says

    Those “little foxes” really are something! I think they’re wreaking havoc all over the place. I’ll pray for you, Laura, that God lifts your spirit and empowers you always for the tasks He places in your path. 🙂

  9. says

    Oh, sweet friend – this just whispers so to my soul! Beauty is a primary means of Spirit-nudging for me. And when the times of desolation come – and of course, they come regularly, don’t they? – well, there is always some small spot of beautiful that brings the breeze of consolation wafting through the fog. So glad for your moment, so grateful for you.

  10. says

    “This feeling of empty is when faith becomes an anchor” and “how music stretched my definition of home” – yes! May the Lord keep you open, waiting, and ready when He decides to show Himself strong in your life.

    (I get it. God is more patient with me than I am with me.)

  11. says

    Oh, I can identify…I think people respond to the real us, to the honesty of saying that things are broken and falling apart… and it takes Jesus to put it back together, even though we don’t know when it will happen.
    I love how Beauty ministers.

  12. says

    “This feeling of empty is when faith becomes and anchor.” Yes. Sometimes empty comes as we’re stripped of everything we think is important…and He is left, shining brightly. All. Enough.

    Thanks for sharing this honesty, Laura.

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