Boxes, Houses, and Castles: A Home fit for a King

I've placed you in perfectly ordered boxes. 

Each one labeled distinctly on it's side. 

I know what goes where and when it expires.

Well,

Sort of.

I have your ordered in a way that makes sense.
The You that is loving is right next to the You that is kind.
The You that is good is stacked on top of the You that is called Dad.
The part that is merciful is next to the box that knows my weaknesses.
Your grace is right next to your expectations of me.
Your will is stacked on top of surrender.
Your justice is overlapping your seeing of evil.

But then things get hairy.
Your holiness spews over.
Your jealousy is causing the walls of this castle to tremble.
Your anger is too close to your delight.
I can't make your fire stop burning away chaff.
You wound the ones you love.

The boxes are labeled as fragile, but really there's nothing fragile about you.
It is I who is fragile.
My ideology.
My theology.
My wish-ology.
That is what is fragile.
You don't fit into my preconceived ideas about who you are supposed to be.

So I build a bigger enclosure for you.
One that will make you look more homey
One that will hold a Dad like you.
I build you a House.

It has a roof.
Windows and a door.
I even add a picture on the wall just for you.

I invite you inside to meet with me there.
To share a cup of tea.
Maybe bake some cookies.
Then dance in front of the fireplace with your daughter.

But soon I realize that while you are a dad,
You are also a King.

A holy, passionate, King.

So I tear down the house and I build you a castle.

This castle is fit for a King indeed.
You have plenty of space to pace as you ponder your decrees.
You can sit in your throne.
You can prop up your feet.
You can look out over the kingdom and hear the peoples praise.

I have finally built something that you will love.
I have finally built you a home.

But you.
You walk through the walls.
Your glory all around you.
Your power spilling over.
Your love like an ocean.
Your passion like a wildfire.

You waltz out of the castle I built for you.
Instead, you begin to build.
You begin to build a dwelling place that is fitting for you,
God, Dad, and King.

I see you building.
I see a coffee shop.
I see a laptop.
I see a chair up next to the bar.

What I see next, surprises me the most.
It's not a box you a building.
It's not a house,
Or a or a kingdom with a castle.

What you are so intently building is me.
I see you smile.
I see love flood your eyes.
I see joy fill your face.
The place you feel most at home in,
The home in which you love to dwell,
Is me.

I am your favorite place.

I am the one you created to hold your glory.
I am the one you long to set up camp in.
You plant your roots deep inside me.

Yes, you are God.
Yes, you are Dad.
Yes, you are King.

And yes, you are Friend.



Come and dwell in the center of my heart.
Make yourself at home in me.

Dancing Among the Wildflowers: The Beginning

I started writing this a couple months ago. I am now stuck. I do not know how this story ends. I could easily make up a pretty little ending, but truth be told, I have no idea what happens next because I am still in the middle of the story. With my own personal life - I don't know how this story ends. However, I am choosing to vulnerably post the unfinished story, with hopes that I will soon be able to return with an ending. For now, I am content with where I am in this process. There is grace for my process.
Jewel loves wild flowers. She loves picking beautiful bouquets and placing the perfect crown of flowers on her head. Spring fills the fields with her favorite flowers, summer ushers in even more.One day, while Jewel was out picking pretty flowers for her kitchen window, something horrible happened! Under the brush, hiding in the shadows, was a snake. Jewel, not knowing a snake was hiding, reached to pick the prettiest flower she had seen all day and was suddenly bitten by the cruel snake! "OUCH!!" Jewel cried as she dropped all the lovely flowers she was holding and fell back into a thorny rose bush. She cradled her injured hand. The snake hissed and slithered back in to his home under the flower bush. Jewel gathered up the scattered flowers, picked the prickly thorns out of her skin, and sobbed all the way back to her quaint little cabin in the middle of the flower field. Once home, Jewel bandaged her wounded hand. As the night carried on and her little hand continued to hurt badly, Jewel vowed she would never let that happen to her again. She began to build a big, thick wall around her cabin to keep snakes and other harmful things out. She wanted to be certain that she was protected so she never experienced that terrible pain again. So she builds. Before long, her wall became a tower around her little cabin, blocking out all sunlight. Her flowers began to die for lack of sunshine, but Jewel didn't mind because at least she knew she was safe from all snakes and danger. Spring ushers in summer, which soon passes to fall and finally winter. The last bouquet of flowers had long withered and died due to passed time and neglect. Jewel didn't even take time to hang and dry them to preserve their beauty. She instead vowed to never enjoy the fragrance of fresh picked flowers for fear of the venomous, painful bite of snakes. Inside her wall she sat, safely away from the risk of pain that comes with rosebushes and wildflower fields.
How could something she loved and treasured so much hurt her? She was wounded because of her love.
To Jewel, this translated to "love hurts" and "love isn't worth the risk". She continued to hide from love.
Eventually, the seasons turned, the snow and clouds of a harsh winter yielded to the fresh fragrance and lightness of spring and someone came knocking on Jewel's door. The sudden knocking startled jewel. She was unsure what to make of the surprise visit. Timidly and cautiously, she approached the door. The sound of her voice saying, "Who is it?" startled her even more, for she had not heard her own self speak in nearly a year. It's a wonder she even knew how to anymore. The stranger was a traveler passing through. He needed a place to stay for the night and wondered if he could set up camp in her field. Jewel consented to his request, but with a bitter tone, she warned him of the dangers of the field. The stranger didn't seem to be worried. He graciously and genuinely thanked her for her hospitality and assured her he would be of no trouble. The next day, brought about torrential rain showers, so heavy that the traveler decided to not set out on his journey. The sudden downpour caused a tree to fall. It fell right on top of Jewel's wall! Jewel shrieked at the loud crash and shatter of the tree crushing part of her precious wall of safety. She had no idea how she would ever be able to move the tree and rebuild her wall before snakes and thorns took over her safe sanctuary.The stranger, noticing her frantic anxiety, rushed to her side. He assured her that he would stay a few more days before setting out again to help her remove the tree from her wall. "Besides," he added, “The trails are much too wet and muddy for me to begin my journey today anyway." Jewel was relieved, but still fearful. The next morning, the sun broke through the clouds and peaked through her curtains. (This was odd because the sun had so long been shielded from view due to the wall surrounding her cabin.) Jewel sleepily stretched as she climbed out of bed. She heard an unfamiliar noise coming from outside, the sound of an axe chopping away at wood, and she remembered the horrible event of the prior day. She quickly got dressed and went outside to assist the stranger in the daunting chore that lay ahead.
As they worked together to cut up the fallen tree, the stranger made small talk. He commented on the beautiful spring weather, the delightful scents of spring flowers, and the refreshing breeze that blew across their faces. Jewel grew more and more bitter at his joy over spring flowers and nature. She grew quiet and solemn as he chatted away. The stranger didn't seem to notice or mind. He seemed content to carry on joyously detailing his love for spring. Eventually, Jewel couldn't stand it anymore "Enough!" she shouted. "I can't take it anymore!" "Stop with the spring-time celebration! Don't you know that it's not safe or smart to love something so much?”Startled, the stranger stepped back. He apologized for his oblivion to her solemnity over spring and got really quiet himself. In silence, they worked for the next hour. The only sounds to be heard were that of the songbirds and the breeze rustling the leaves in the trees and blowing softly through the grass.
Finally, the stranger worked up the courage to ask the question that was looming in the air. "What caused your disdain for spring and flowers?"
Angrily, Jewel stated, "Not that it’s your business, but if you must know…it's just not smart to love something so much. Thorns hurt. Snakes are good hiders, waiting to strike an innocent passerby."
The stranger gently asked, "Is that what happened to you? Is that why you built this wall?"
Annoyed by his sudden persistent interest in her personal life, Jewel retorted, "Yes."
The two grew quiet again and continued to work on the fallen tree.

On the Auctioneer's Platform

She stood there on the auctioneer's platform, clothed in rags. Dirt streaked across her expressionless face; filthy because she hadn't had the luxury of a bath in some time. She stood, head down, wondering where the bidding would begin. She cringed as she heard the too familiar sound of children screaming as a sibling was bought while the other left. Memories of her own siblings flooded her mind. Where were they now? Were the safe? Did they remember her? Regrets overwhelmed her heart. Why did she choose to set out on her own? Promises of an exciting life, broken. She spent the last three years of her life in the brothels, selling her body to strange men in hopes of making enough money to get by.

Sold. 

The auctioneer's voice rang out. So lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize the bidding for her had already begun, let alone ended. She searched the crowd wondering who bought her. She wondered what her new life would be like. For a moment she was gripped with fear as she reflected back on past owners; she quickly pushed those memories out of her head.
A man began to push through the crowd, fighting to get to the front. All eyes were on him.

"She's mine," he said, "I pick her."

He handed over the biggest bag of silver she had ever seen in her life. Her heart raced as she wondered how she could ever pay him back. She resigned to the thought that she would be in slavery to him for the rest of her life, doing whatever he wanted. She hung her head as her heart seemed to crash and shatter on the ground around her, with it went her dreams of freedom. She had nothing to give him.

She was nothing but a filthy, poor, prostitute. 

He reached out and lifted her off the auctioneer's block. This was strange, she had never been carried before. No buyer had ever looked into her eyes like this one either. His eyes seemed to pierce deep within her heart. She looked away, ashamed, fearful of what he might see. Expecting him to put her down and make her walk, she squirmed a little, ready to be dropped. He didn't. He carried her.
He carried her for what felt like miles, close to his heart. She was deeply confused by this buyer. Who was he? Why didn't he treat her like the others had? He carried her into the door of a house at the end of the road. Carried her in the door, down the hallway, and into a room with a big bed where he laid her down. She quickly sat up, and began to remove her torn clothes. She knew what to do from here, she had been here many times before. He must have carried her so that she wouldn't be tired from the long walk and could perform well for him. He walked over to a tub in the corner of the room and began to fill it with water. He pulled a new gown out of the closet and laid it across a comfortable looking chair.
She was so confused. He hadn't barked a single order at her. She sat there, exposed, wondering what to do. She thought, how could she please him if he wouldn't tell her what he wanted? He turns, and she watches him walk out of the room, closing the door behind him. She sits for a few moments, perplexed, not wanting to do anything wrong.
After several moments, she stands and walks over to the tub, she hadn't had a warm bath in such a long time. After she bathed, she put on the new gown that he laid out for her. She brushed her matted curls with a brush she found in the drawer by the bed. She inhaled deeply and smelled the delightful aroma of food being prepared in the kitchen. She curiously tiptoed her way through the door, out of the room, and down the hall. Peeking around the corner she saw the man who purchased her sitting at the table with other children her age.
"Great," she whispered, "I'm in another brothel." She took a step backwards to return to her room before she was caught, but the floor board creaked. The man with the intense eyes looked up, right at her. She gasped and quickly turned to scurry back to her room. As she began to take off down the hall, she heard the most gentle voice.

"Won't you come join us?" he beckoned. 

She stopped in her tracks. She had never been invited to dinner before. Who is this man? What does he expect of me. She slowly turned, and studied the man's expression. It was one she had never seen on the face of a buyer before. It was gentle, loving even. He stood. She took a fearful step backwards. He walked around the table and pulled our a chair, he waved her over, calling her to sit.
Not wanting to cause trouble, she complied.
He went to the stove and prepared a plate for her. He set it before her. The food smelled delicious. More delicious than she could remember anything smelling before. In that moment, she realized that her stomach ached with hunger. How long had it been since she had last eaten? Days?
The man walked back around to his seat and continued to eat his dinner.
She slowly picked up the fork and began to eat. Careful not to drop anything on her new gown. Surely her buyer would be set off if she made any sort of mess. This treatment was too good to last for long.
After dinner, she returned to her room, wondering when her work would begin. He came in to bring her another blanket before he retired to bed. She drifted off to sleep, wondering how long this would last.

How long would it be before he realized she was nothing but a filthy prostitute?

The next morning she woke to the sound of the man singing and children laughing. She smelled breakfast cooking, as she sleepily crawled out of bed and walked down the hall. 

"Good morning Sunshine!" the man called out to her, "Did you sleep well?" 

"Yes," she whispered. 

"Breakfast is ready if you are hungry," the man said. 

She sat down and began to eat. She studied the children around her, wondering how they could have such joy. This buyer confused her greatly. What did he want with all these children? Who could he be?

As the day drew to a close, she still had all of the same questions racing through her mind. 

That evening, as she got ready for bed, the man came in to her room. She stood, waiting on a command. 

He lifted her back up on to the big, comfy bed, and sat down next to her. She looked up at him. His eyes once again burned deep within her soul. 

"What do you want from me?" she whispered, as her eyes welled up with burning tears. "I don't know how to please you and I could never pay you back." 

"Child, I only want you to be free." His gentle voice was overwhelming. She couldn't take it anymore. Tears rushed out of her eyes and flooded her face. He reached over and began to wipe them away. Still confused, she jumped, startled at this sign of affection. She had expected him to be angry at her emotion. He just sat there, his eyes loving eyes piercing her heart.

"Free?" she asked. "How can I be free? I can't ever pay you back, you paid too much for me."

"I don't want anything from you. I paid for your freedom. You don't deserve slavery." 

"Free?" 

"Free." 

"It is for freedom that Christ set us free..." Galatians 5:1

In progress...

There was a little girl named Leehi*. She loved her father very much. She loved to see him smile. His smile was warm and could be felt from miles away. She loved to hear his laugh. His laugh would fill the room with joy. She found great satisfaction in serving him. She would have given anything to make him happy and see him smile. Leehi and her father had an amazing relationship. She enjoyed talking with him. She told him everything. They would laugh and play. Leehi loved it when he picked her up and twirled her around. Nothing could separate them. The bond they had was strong.
As the years went on, Leehi began to grow older and made more friends. She still loved her father, but she loved her social life too. She wanted to explore the world. She was curious about what all life had to offer. She decided to pack her bag and set off on an adventure. She explored many countries of the world. She loved her new friends and all the fun things they introduced her to. She enjoyed staying out late and trying new things. Her friends led her to many new places. She began to try things she had never experienced before. Things that she knew her father wouldn't approve of. The kind of things she had been warned about by her father. She knew it was wrong, but she thought,

 "Oh, I'll just do it this once. It's not a big deal. What could it hurt anyway?" 

She soon learned how wrong she was to think that.  

She was quickly sucked in to these new, bad things. She found her self addicted and alone. Her friends left her. She had no one to turn to. 

So she hid. 

Alone.

Scared.

Addicted.

Lost.

She thought back to her childhood. When she felt safe. 

When she was loved.

She remembered dancing with her father. 

She missed him.

Yes. She missed him more than words could describe.

"How could I ever go back?"

"I have messed up so bad." 

"I don't even look the same."

"I am dirty."

"I left him...even after he warned me... I still did all these things."

"He is disappointed in me."

"How could he not be disappointed in me?"

"Look what I have done..."

"Maybe he will give me one more chance... maybe..."

"I don't know if I even remember the way back home though..."

These are the thoughts that flooded her mind. Day after day. Finally she got up the nerve to try to journey back home to her father. Fearing that he might never love her again, she anxiously made her way back home. She knew that all she had to do was knock and her father would let her in... but would he love her? She decided that she would do whatever it took to make him love her again. 

When she saw her father, tears streamed down her face. 

He embraced her. 

He spun her around. 

He held her.

He wiped the tears from her cheeks.

He cleaned her up.

Gave her new clothes.

He smiled at her.

Would it last?

After she told him all the things she did, would he still smile at her?

Days went by. Leehi and her dad spent time together. He told her how much he missed her. How glad he was for her to be back. He told her he loved her.

She didn't believe it.

After all she had done, how could he love her?

So she began to work.

She labored day in and day out. She did everything she knew how to do plus more. 

She strived to make him happy. She wanted to give him the best she could.

She worked.

And worked.

And worked.

She tired herself out.

But kept working.

All the while her father just wanted her. He just wanted to be with her. He loved HER. Yes, her working was helpful, but that's not what he was pleased with. He may have had his daughter back... but he still missed her. He missed the times they had once shared. He missed her being delighted in him. He missed being able to just lavish his love on her. She wouldn't let him. He saw that she felt she was unworthy of his love. He knew the weight of the guilt she carried and it broke his heart. Wanting her to realize who she is, he wrote her a letter. When he was finished, he folded the letter and put it in an envelope and placed it on her pillow.

That night, as she lay down to sleep, she found the letter. She opened it and through tears she read...

Daughter,

You have been mine from the beginning. I have always loved you. 

I have seen you grow. I have seen you learn. Yes, you have made mistakes. But you are not the sum of your mistakes. 

You are beautiful. You are mine. I love you. 

I don't want your efforts. I don't want your work.

 I want you.

Don't you know who you belong to?

 Me.

 Nothing can change that. 

You can do the most horrible things in the world and I will still love you. 

Nothing will change my love for you.

 Stop carrying the guilt. Stop trying to gain my approval.

Just rest. 

Take a break. 

Sit with me.

I miss you. 

Your name says it all. YOU ARE MINE. 

There is nothing you can do to change that. Stop trying to earn my love.

It is impossible for me to love you any more than I do right now.

I will never leave you. You don't have to strive to make me pleased with you... I am already absolutely in love with you. 

You please me more than life itself. 

You give me great joy.

I delight in you.

Stop working. Just be with me. 

I don't want your work.

I want you.

I love you. 

-Daddy

 That weight was lifted from her shoulders as she realized how much her father really did love her. She ran to him. She forgot about being tired. She knew that perfect rest was in her father's arms. She melted into his arms and wept. He held her close and whispered, "I love you just because you are mine."

*She is mine


How often do I try to prepare a gift for God when all he really wants is me? I am so guilty of trying to work for his approval. I don't understand why I think that his love can be earned. I know it can't, but I still find myself working for him rather than simply loving him.
Jesus, help me rest knowing that you love me because I am yours. Help me find a balance between serving and loving. You are not my soccer coach. You will not kick me off the team if I can't "get it right." You are not my employer. You are my husband. You just want me.