Romance is Bigger than A Love Story

Romance is bigger than a love story. It is the story of love. Romance is making things lovely because of Love. It is seeing the signature of God on his creation. Watching the snowflakes weave their way across the sky to that perfectly selected blade of grass they call home. It's the precious uniqueness of each child's laugh - none being the same. It's the artwork of a Congolese war torn child as she draws her life dreams. It's a true friend's long embrace. A hot happy meal to a homeless man. A hug of gratitude from an earthquake victim.

It is a smile when you are by yourself in the car and that song comes on. A unspoken bond between two friends. It's overdue forgiveness. It's the sound of distant train whistle. It's knowing something about someone that you only know because their fingerprint is on your heart. It's your cat licking your face to wake you up in the morning. Your dog meeting you at the door. It's the sounds of rain dancing on a tin roof or sleet as it hits your window. The look of a man in a wheelchair when you open the door for him.

Chocolates from your daddy. It's a smirk because you both are thinking the same thing without saying a word. The innocence of a three year old. That look of adoration when you pray with them and the sound of their feet running to you when you walk in the door....that is Romance.

Close your eyes. Open your heart.

I Want To Be Blue

‘Aunt b, if kindness were a color, what would it be?"

Putting them to bed. She looks at me. She is nestled under the covers. I smile.

There is a space between feelings and thoughts and living that we seem to loose. A space created for us to sit. And listen. And wait. A space that is magical and beautiful. It is where Kindness lives. It is where Wisdom makes its home. It is where seconds of silence can give way to years of destruction or eternities of Life. If only we would listen to it. If only we would stay still. In that space lies answers to questions we are afraid to hear. Endings of wrestlings that have gone on for years. Revelations that can make the blind see.

I want to see.

I crave to see.

I beg to see…..

Through the eyes of a Savior boy lost in thought from teaching scholars, an artist Creator whose grace outlives eternity, a Spirit of life and peace and all things beautiful, an orphaned girl who is giving her body in exchange for food, a child in Haiti who still lives in a tent camp from the earthquake and is afraid of the wind.

He wants to know… They all want to know

Do you remember me?

Do you? Remember?

The one who gave you breath? The creator of Kindness. The persona of Patience.

The living breathing Constant who never stops seeing you. Who never stops loving you. Who never ceases to exist or goes away. Who never stops…… Who never. Stops. And who says:

I am in the Space.

In our whirlwinds of Life, we trample. Being so fixed on the list of doing, the goal of reaching, the next best thing…. That we fail to stop and just sit for a few seconds and listen.

‘If kindness were a color, what would it be?”

Still looking up at me. She is nestled under the covers. Her baby sister next to her. Books have been read. Prayers have been said. Just one more question.

“I don’t know……… maybe blue?”

“Then if you were a color, you would be blue”

I look at her in wonderment and I want to be her.

She is carefree. In her head more than she is out of it. And knee deep inside of the heart of God; though she may not even know it.

I kiss her goodnight and tell her that was one of the most beautiful compliments I have ever received. But I leave the room wondering if it is true. I wish to be kind. I strive to be. But am I? In the quiet places? In the secret places? To the closest of kindred hearts to me? Am I?

When space comes to space…. What do we choose? Do we listen? Or do we plunge past it? Not giving it reverence or thought or presence. It holds oceans of riches and mountains of jewels.

I am on retreat for the day. The first of the year, I always take a few days and I pray. I reflect.

I ask for revelations before I make revolutions.

Wondering what the Lord wants me to be or see or understand. How do I need to change, to bend and to shape my soul so it reflects more of my Creator? What have I done well this year? What have I done poorly? Who am I and how am I and where am I in this Spiritual Journey we call Life?

I always leave retreat with more than I came with….

This year? I am leaving with valuing Listening and Presence. With understanding my smallness. With recognizing His greatness. With a respect of the soulful parts of life and a deeper value of the people who make it up.

With a reverence of secret spaces of life between thoughts and decisions that holds wise rivers of Kindness. Rivers that should be heard and emersed in and floated down and sat in – at least for a few seconds -

before intentionally stepping into whatever Life has set before us.

I crave to be aware. I wish to be present. I seek to be kind. I want to be Blue.

“Sweet dreams, darlin’s. I love you.”

Turning out the light. I walk away…..

Strangely. Simply. Wanting to be more.

Blue.

Sweet Lord, You are kind to me. And patient and loving and longsuffering and gentle and good. You are so good. I sit here and I reflect on a year remembered. A beautiful head-spinning glorious year that I place before your feet in exchange for another. Hands open wide for all you have to give. But a heart open wider for all you have to teach. Overwhelmed at the deep blueness of your heart. Hoping to reflect even a speck of it.

Deeply thankful for being....

Yours, b

Fire

Sing of a New Year
Echoes of a changed heart
Whispers of an old way of being - transformed
A battered spirit bandaged in mortal salve
Seeking a Spiritual Healer of forever
Restored Souls waiting in anticipation for the Spring petals to be felt
Fingertip to Fingertip

Sunsets of regret give way to Sunrises of baptism
As breaths of New Life awaken and are taken one at a time
And with each new breath there is a hope of another
And with each gasp of life there is death of the old
And with each Beginning there is an End
Old Endings melting into New Beginnings

And the Angels sing a chorus of Life
A Life to be lived
An Existence to be embraced
A Passion to be lit Fire
Let us live out loud and on

FIRE

Listen

There are times that something wells up within my soul and I don't know what to do with it. If my soul had a breath, it would steal it away. Times that I am overtaken by something bigger than myself. It is a richness of getting life at the core level of what it was simply meant to be: Love. Authenticity. Simplicity. Falling. Fearing. Getting up. Rising again. Grace. Mercy.

"To the degree of mercy you have been given, so is the level of compassion you will bestow." -- Thomas Keating.

I am overtaken sometimes by the richness of life. I am overtaken by the amount of Mercy I have been given. And I never want to forget. I am not overtaken by the pain. Not the heartache. Those parts I have seen, and I have wept for. I am overtaken by the radiant beauty that can come out of that. Stories. Of a mother taking in a boy who killed her family in the genocide after her journey to forgiveness - because his family was also killed. He had no mother. Now he does. Stories. Of two lost boys of Sudan who happened to meet in a refugee camp as boys. Now leading their countries in beautiful ways into peace and healing. Stories. Of a little girl who is teaching her parents the meaning of unconditional love and healing their marriage. She has Downs Syndrome. Pure Love. There is Truth in Redemption. There is Story in Song. It's all around us. Inside of us. Covering us. Can you hear it? Listen. It's there.....

Thanks From Congo ...

….. and Rwanda and Sudan and Kenya and Uganda! I would love to invite you to take a short trip into my journal with the eXile international team in Africa over the past few weeks. See into the hearts of some beautiful children who have survived war. Watch for the hands of God. Listen for the songs of glory. Hear their hearts of gratitude for the support you have given. We could not do this without you. We are thankful! So are they!

CONGO Day 3: “I am writing this from DR Congo where we just left 60 boys who were once forced to kill. 60 boys abducted by 5 different rebel groups. Thirty of them are part of a program at The Peace Lives Center that exile international is excited to partner with. I don’t have words for today. Only an overwhelming feeling that True Life lives in the center of redemption, and God’s grace is an ocean that He is ready to baptize us in.

We have just come from the mountains of Masisi. Having to practically talk Didi into taking us because of recent violence and riots this week. A few aid workers were killed not long ago. We watched with full hearts as 30 once boy soldiers became men of peace. Last year we washed the feet of these boys following our art trauma program. We prayed for each one individually and gave them bibles. Their FIRST Swahili bibles!

Today we drove with them into the mountains and sat beside of them as they washed the feet of 30 more former child soldiers who are the next “peace team” to receive trauma care and peace building training. I watched Augustine as he sat at the feet of these boys; both of our hands in the water. Him washing one foot. Me washing the other. Both praying a prayer of peace. The water was as dirty as the depth of their scars, and the bonding I could feel with my spirit was untouchable. Redemption at this level is just breathtaking.

“We thought we would die in the bush, but now we are bringing peace. It is God’s vision."

These boys usually sleep three to one twin bed. Teenage boys. No mattresses. Their floor is broken lava rock and their beds are mats on bamboo sticks. But at least it isn't the bush. At least they didn't wake up next to their guns this morning.

But because of generous donations (and Jessie raising funds for her birthday in lieu of gifts) this year was different. THIS year, we built a new home for them! Side by side. Because of YOU, we were able to buy new beds with mattresses. Because of YOU we are able to make sure they get healing groups for their war trauma each week.A few more thousand dollars, and we can build concrete floors in the homes over the broken lava rock. About $7000 more dollars and we can purchase the land next door to build more homes one day! God continues to be faithful….

“The new boys in the transit center heard about the Peace Lives Center. They heard of the boys singing at church and living again. They asked to come. Many ask to come, so we pray for the room to take them in”

Thank you for helping us help them! We are deeply grateful and wish you a beautiful weekend of giving thanks with those you love. Stay tuned for more blogs, and we invite you to our next event The Snow Ballhttp://www.snowballnashville.com Dec 8th at Cannery Ballroom. Come hear more of our new projects!

His, b