I love traveling. Since I have been living out of a suitcase most of the time for the past few months, that’s probably a good thing. Where some people find routine and familiarity most conducive to creativity, I find it stifling. My husband will tell you that I seldom come back the same way I went. I know that good habits free us from the tyranny of having to waste brain-time on detail, and I really am trying to put my keys, shoes and purse in the same place every time, but for me creative ideas first flutter by in my peripheral vision. If I don’t turn my eyes from routine, I could miss them.
Still and all, having said that, there is something about the familiarity of home that is freeing as well. Where else can you sing with full voice in the shower or sit until noon in a ratty bathrobe? There is a certain comfort in being able to step over a newspaper on the floor for three days without worrying about what anybody thinks. Even the job list on the fridge, the one that lists things that never bore a check mark and won’t now because now the season has changed, posts a sort of poetic pleasure.
Clean the fireplace,
Mend grey sweater,
Sand the sidewalk,
Buy new gloves
Tonight, driving home after a picnic with dear folk I haven’t seen in months, the clouds that broke out in sporadic showers all around us finally snagged on the Rockies on their way east. The mountains are beautiful even when they are playing hide-and-seek in the clouds, because I know what they look like. These are my mountains. This is my home.
Sometimes the best way through the valley is through the valley.
That’s where the feast is kept.
Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me. You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies.
All this will flow from the kind and compassionate mercy of our God. A new day is dawning: the Sunrise from the heavens will break through in our darkness, And those who huddle in night, those who sit in the shadow of death, Will be able to rise and walk in the light, guided in the pathway of peace.
(Luke 1:78, 79 The Voice)
We can’t fight darkness by focusing on darkness; it only leads to more fear. But if we walk in the Light, live in the Light, and the Light lives in us, darkness is displaced. In the Presence of the Light darkness must flee.
“The Puritans used to say that far too many Christians live beneath the level of their privileges. Therefore, I need to be told by those around me that every time I sin I’m momentarily suffering from an identity crisis: forgetting who I actually belong to, what I really want at my remade core, and all that is already mine in Christ. The only way to deal with remaining sin long-term is to develop a distaste for it in light of the glorious riches we already possess in Christ. I need my real friends to remind me of this–every day. Please tell me again and again that God doesn’t love me more when I obey or less when I disobey. Knowing this actually enlarges my heart for God and therefore shrinks my hunger for sin. So, don’t let me forget it. My life depends on it!” -Tullian Tchividjian
I pray for you constantly, asking God, the glorious Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, to give you spiritual wisdom and insight so that you might grow in your knowledge of God. I pray that your hearts will be flooded with light so that you can understand the confident hope he has given to those he called—his holy people who are his rich and glorious inheritance.
I also pray that you will understand the incredible greatness of God’s power for us who believe him. This is the same mighty power that raised Christ from the dead and seated him in the place of honor at God’s right hand in the heavenly realms. Now he is far above any ruler or authority or power or leader or anything else—not only in this world but also in the world to come. (Ephesian 1: 16-21)
I have friends who love ice fishing. They are out there all bundled up before dawn and after dusk just for the thrill of pulling a skinny little fish out of the hole.
Me? I have to contemplate whether the joy of buying a hunk of fish more frozen than the ones in the lake is worth scraping the snow off the car to drive down to the Superstore. The whole idea of freezing precious parts of my anatomy to catch one from a frozen lake leaves me cold. Ice fishing is not my talent and I politely refuse even when friends try to pressure me into joining them. I don’t even feel guilty, which almost makes me feel guilty, but not quite.