Bread In The Desert

18685272_1728446850505067_364187275_n

I would get a matcha latte, because the color green in a drink makes me feel happy for some reason.

I think God would drink a white mocha. The kind of drink you wouldn’t expect Him to get, but He does because He is a God with a sense of humor.


I like to imagine that I could go to coffee shops and have conversations with God. I would walk in nervous to see Him. I would be distracted by everything going on, the smell of wood from the rustic tables, the coffee orders being called out, not to mention the voices of people having sweet conversations all around. But there is something about Him that draws me in as I walk by. Although at first I cannot put my finger on it, after a second I realize, it is His warmth, His invitation to come home, His utter love and adoration and delight He exudes towards us. That is something I have always loved about the Lord. He pursues me when I am not worthy of being pursued, He invites me home when I am messy and dirty. He extends His hand for me to return to Him when I am afraid. He loves on me when I am stubborn and run from Him. He is always inviting, always pursuing,

He feels like home. He looks like home when I see Him. His embrace feels like I have arrived home.

I sit. A bit giddy and all-too shy.

I take a sip from my drink. Which all of a sudden doesn’t taste as sweet as His presence.

I take a look at my matcha latte. I start rambling about how I love that He created broccoli, and while we’re in the topic…watermelon, which is green on the outside but only get better when you cut it and find out it’s red on the inside, and asparagus although I wasn’t a fan when I was little but it grew on me. It’s something that I do when I’m nervous…I talk about food and colors, because I love both.

He looks at me attentively. He has a crisp smile across His face, like He is actually amused that I love the green veggies He created. Like He actually does want to hear about it.

I look at Him, and He says, “Beloved, you do not have to perform. I adore you”

I say, “But I am broken, like not just bended but broken and dirty and messy. I sin and I miss it, and I am unworthy”

He says, “Daughter, I call you mine.”

I say, “Lord, can I be honest and say that I am afraid.  I am actually afraid that you will not be faithful and I am broken and in pain, and I feel like the world is caving in. I feel like I cannot catch my breath. I feel out of control. I feel like I have nothing to offer. Like I cannot create or speak beauty.”

I look up. Because those statements don’t make a lot of sense together, but they are chunks of the deepest struggles in my heart. But I know He gets it. I know He got it even before words came out of my mouth.

He still nods. He looks at me with eyes that don’t only understand pain, but feel pain for His loved creation.

He says, “I am your Shepard. Will you jump in, dive in, lock your eyes on me, I will not lead you astray.”

“I am in the business of redemption. I will create a way when you don’t see a way. I will bring life to the death things. I will carry you softly, kindly, through the desert. You will not thirst, you will not hunger because I am your sustainer, I am fresh water for your mind, heart and soul. I will feed you bread of truth, with promises beyond your wildest dreams, I will heal you, I will be close to you, I will be enough.”

Time has stopped, I cannot see or hear anything in this coffee shop. Because God’s promise and words are penetrating deep into my soul. He brings life to the dead places in me and in my life. He is home.

All of a sudden the promise of “I am with you” lavishes me with a grace that runs deeper than my humanness and brokenness.

I cannot understand. I don’t see a way. I am still a little afraid. But I resolved in my heart that He will, He absolutely be who He said He would. He is my  Shepard and I will not want.


 

A Shepard knows His sheep are not able, that they are weak on their best day, that they are well cute little sheep. A Shepard is not surprised, nor taken aback by His sheep’s inability to lead themselves, to find their way home. He already knows, He wants them to come to home to be led, to be fed, to be safe.

The Lord is showing me that it is okay to be broken and shattered. He wants me to come home because He has the power to redeem. He will be who He says that He is.

His love for you and I is unstoppable, unrelenting, never failing, never ending.

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s