Nearly three years ago we moved to my husband's family farm. It has felt like both a blessing and a burden to me, a gift wrapped in expectation. I will admit that most of the expectations are probably my own.
I recognize that if I had moved to my own family's farm, I wouldn't have given a second thought to taking it over, making changes and improvements. I belonged there, after all, more than I have ever belonged to any place, more than any place has ever belonged to me. It is my hiraeth. The place I long for, to which I can never return, a lost place of my past.
The truth is, my husband knows this place with an inward knowing. In many ways it is all he knows. I am happy for that. I am happy he has had the security I have longed for; I'm happy I am a part of that now. I feel that God answered the deep, unspoken longings of my heart with this farm and home.
I did not transition seamlessly. It hasn't been a graceful process. It did not feel like home to me for a long time. I didn't know how to make it feel like home. I didn't know how to honor what was, while moving into what is to be. This inner struggle has made it hard to move forward. Rather than embracing what is, I've been at a stand still.
I want this to be my home, my place.
Home has always been my favorite place to be. Home is infinitely important to an introvert. It is a place of safety, security, acceptance, creativity, love, and much needed solitude. It is important to me that my home reflects who I am. I'm working on making those transitions, little by little.
I've thought a lot, over the past few years, about the legacy of this farm. I'm sure some of the values and challenges have changed over the years, generation to generation. One thing has been constant: faith. This farm has a legacy of faith.
We will not hide them from their children; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, His powers and the wonders He has done. Psalm 78:4
We attended a family reunion picnic a couple summers back. We went through the routine of prayer, potluck dinner, scripture reading, fellowship. God pressed into my heart that day, "This is what generational faith looks like". It isn't perfect. It isn't made of perfect people. It's faith. It's trust in Him, handed down through tradition, ritual, the routine of daily life. It's prayer. It's the Word. It's living life with purpose. Sometimes it's, "Lord, I believe, help Thou mine unbelief". Mark 9:24
It has stayed with me, that impression. I've thought about it. I've learned from it.
I recognize that my faith does not look like the extremely routined, disciplined faith of the generation before me. I think my faith and my relationship with God will always be different. I don't come from the same place, so my place is bound to be different.
I will make it different; I will make it mine, for as long as I am here.
I will make changes, and from now on I will make them with confidence, because the important thing isn't the wallpaper or the color of the shutters, or the new plantings or shop renovations. The important thing is the legacy of faith. I can do that, God help me. It will not look the same. It won't be the same, because it will be unique to me, my husband, our family, our relationship with our Heavenly Father.
It will be different; it will be beautiful.
I trust God for that.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Monday, May 9, 2016
Inside-Out
I keep dreaming up this dream of what life would look like if we had the courage to live with our souls turned inside-out.
Our souls are comprised of our mind, will, and emotions. There are aspects of our souls: our gifts, talents, abilities we are to use to glorify God. There are aspects we are to overcome: bad attitudes, poor mindsets, shallow desires, unhealthy feelings.
What would it look like if we had the courage to live with our souls turned inside-out? What would it look like if we could whisper our secrets into the wind and they could be sucked up into the universe, their power forever altered? What would it look like if we could share our faults and mistakes and failures, transforming our shame and insecurity into empowerment and humility? What if we could become a safe place for others to bring their weaknesses, their shame, their failures because we were so transparent they already knew ours?
This is the question I keep asking myself. What if I could be that person? What if I could be a safe place? I don't know what that looks like. Not yet. I can only see the first few steps. I can only see right in front of me, the things heavy on my heart, fresh in my mind until I release them. I can only whisper what I am, what I've done, Who He is, what He's done. I can only trust that when a quiet voice whispers a simple truth God can carry it on the wind and direct into which ear it blows.
What if hurting people could see our brokenness and our path to Him, the Healer? What if they could follow it to their own place of healing and love? What if they could whisper their own truths into the universe?
I don't hear testimonies frequently, but when I do I am often moved to tears. Many of us wear our hearts on our sleeves, but I wonder if others, like me, have been too afraid to wear their souls inside-out. I don't know what that looks like. Iv'e never seen it - not close-up. I've never been a part if it, but God keeps giving me this dream. I keep wondering what beautiful souls could look like if we were brave enough to wear them inside-out, contents carefully entrusted to Him.
The thing about our testimonies is that they belong to us, but they also belong to God. Our stories are part of His story. I think it's our job as modern day believers to show that God is here, that He is now. Our stories aren't part of His Word, but they are part of His work right now, relevant for the world today. Each of our testimonies holds beauty and power as we step into His call on our lives.
The hardest part about our testimonies is that they belong to other people too. Some of our greatest challenges are not just overcoming what is in us: the unhealthy thoughts, mindsets, emotions, but also what is done to us: abuse, abandonment, neglect, the pain of broken people in relationship with one another.
We work to protect the reputations of those who hurt us. I've heard a lot of differing opinions on sharing these types of testimonies. I don't know the answer; I'm not sure there is a clear-cut answer. I do know secrets hold power. I know that they can become burdens that weigh you down. They can breed an environment of shame deep within our souls. I do know that our testimonies belong, not only to us, but also to God.
Whether your story, your testimony is one of overcoming or one of stability and unwavering faith, it holds tremendous value. It speaks to God's plan, and I love that His plan has space, has a role and a purpose for every single believer. I love that the pain and the victory over pain work together to strengthen and empower us for our predestined work here.
I wish our testimonies were as easy on our lips as our own names, that we owned them with as much certainty and confidence. I hope we are able to wear them inside-out someday, proof of God's power to change what's broken and hurting.
Our souls are comprised of our mind, will, and emotions. There are aspects of our souls: our gifts, talents, abilities we are to use to glorify God. There are aspects we are to overcome: bad attitudes, poor mindsets, shallow desires, unhealthy feelings.
What would it look like if we had the courage to live with our souls turned inside-out? What would it look like if we could whisper our secrets into the wind and they could be sucked up into the universe, their power forever altered? What would it look like if we could share our faults and mistakes and failures, transforming our shame and insecurity into empowerment and humility? What if we could become a safe place for others to bring their weaknesses, their shame, their failures because we were so transparent they already knew ours?
This is the question I keep asking myself. What if I could be that person? What if I could be a safe place? I don't know what that looks like. Not yet. I can only see the first few steps. I can only see right in front of me, the things heavy on my heart, fresh in my mind until I release them. I can only whisper what I am, what I've done, Who He is, what He's done. I can only trust that when a quiet voice whispers a simple truth God can carry it on the wind and direct into which ear it blows.
What if hurting people could see our brokenness and our path to Him, the Healer? What if they could follow it to their own place of healing and love? What if they could whisper their own truths into the universe?
I don't hear testimonies frequently, but when I do I am often moved to tears. Many of us wear our hearts on our sleeves, but I wonder if others, like me, have been too afraid to wear their souls inside-out. I don't know what that looks like. Iv'e never seen it - not close-up. I've never been a part if it, but God keeps giving me this dream. I keep wondering what beautiful souls could look like if we were brave enough to wear them inside-out, contents carefully entrusted to Him.
The thing about our testimonies is that they belong to us, but they also belong to God. Our stories are part of His story. I think it's our job as modern day believers to show that God is here, that He is now. Our stories aren't part of His Word, but they are part of His work right now, relevant for the world today. Each of our testimonies holds beauty and power as we step into His call on our lives.
The hardest part about our testimonies is that they belong to other people too. Some of our greatest challenges are not just overcoming what is in us: the unhealthy thoughts, mindsets, emotions, but also what is done to us: abuse, abandonment, neglect, the pain of broken people in relationship with one another.
We work to protect the reputations of those who hurt us. I've heard a lot of differing opinions on sharing these types of testimonies. I don't know the answer; I'm not sure there is a clear-cut answer. I do know secrets hold power. I know that they can become burdens that weigh you down. They can breed an environment of shame deep within our souls. I do know that our testimonies belong, not only to us, but also to God.
Whether your story, your testimony is one of overcoming or one of stability and unwavering faith, it holds tremendous value. It speaks to God's plan, and I love that His plan has space, has a role and a purpose for every single believer. I love that the pain and the victory over pain work together to strengthen and empower us for our predestined work here.
I wish our testimonies were as easy on our lips as our own names, that we owned them with as much certainty and confidence. I hope we are able to wear them inside-out someday, proof of God's power to change what's broken and hurting.
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