I have moved!

Welcome to a whole new era... self-hosted blogging. Once I work out the kinks, I am sure it will be lovely... I will keep this one open for the time being. If you miss me, come and find me at www.itwasntme.me!

The home that God built...

We live in a house, a home that God bought for me… I wanted something that fit us. With room to grow. With space for a future. With extra room… for a potential spouse, potential kids…. With potential to be the home for the family that God was building. We are the family of God's own making.

We are a family that has survived a divorce, one that has weathered storms of contention… my two sons, a dog, and me. Out of the ashes we rose, stronger for the struggles and more certain in our identity. We live truth. Unashamed, we talk about God… we wrestle through challenges… we are unfinished, in flux, ever growing and evolving. 

Our home had empty rooms, a whole floor that is unused. The door remained closed, the future is at hand, the almost but not yet. It is wasted space. Squandered. The empty rooms of potential life bothered me. I have tried using the space, for something… because it is MINE and must be used by me. Right? Or not.  

Dissatisfied with emptiness, I decided to rent the upstairs… to a girl... because, I am surrounded by boys… even the dog is a boy. I was outnumbered, and to balance the scales and to put out the emptiness we got a girl in the attic, two actually. 

The first one stayed for six months before she got married… she was our house elf. She baked delicious things and won over the short one with fresh scones. When she left us for her husband (whatever, I know), the short one hugged her in her wedding dress and glared at the man who stole her away. 

And the emptiness returned….

Then came Girl 2.0, she was the replacement girl… by now I had determined that the attic no longer would be empty. I liked having a girl upstairs… plus I got to use the phrase “the girl in my attic” ubiquitously on Facebook and in casual conversation. Both of our girls were known to us, and loved by us… and have become ours. But this Girl 2.0 is magical… she is FAMILY and everything has changed.

This is the family that God is building, she is somehow sister to my children and the sister of my heart. I have watched her grow, even before she moved into the attic, from shaken, fragile, woundedness into the strength of a million rainbows. She used to hide in plain sight, not wanting to be seen and now she laughs uproariously and shines with Jesus sparkles. 

She has found her voice, she is out of the corner… and temporarily in my attic. I know she is on loan, I have to let her go… she is chasing Jesus and He has laid out a mighty path for her.  She is willing to wait, she is willing to go… I have seen first-hand the fruit of faithfulness working, living through her and it has sustained and revived me in wondrous ways.

We are a family, bound by the Spirit… guided by the Holy Spirit… and sharing this life with Girl 2.0 seems to have exponentially magnified that fact. We are all drowning in majesty, there is a deep spring of redeeming grace flowing around us and it is healing the deepest of wounds. Nightmares of the past are being broken off and being replaced with hope and restoration. 

In this house, in this home, this is the family that God is building. The rooms for potential are not mine to fill, it is not actually my space to use. I am just fortunate enough to have a room that is God’s to fill and is His space to use. Each day, I know more and more, that He fills every corner of this home.

This is the house that God built… in all my broken ways, He has built me walls that will always stay. The walls I built, He has torn down; in their place grace will abound. Brick by brick and stone by stone, He has tilled my heart so overgrown. The weeds of rage and bitterness had grown so fierce I could not see all the pain thriving inside of me. With every angry thought, my grief became a forgotten word.  

Numb to hear my heart’s own cry. Waves of anger swept me away. The loss of self, a loss of joy. With stumbling steps through a darkened night, I forged a path into the light. Reminded of what once was true, God’s love saves and changes you. In this home, full of love and hope, the future is bright... full of almost and not yet.