You Never Know When A Balloon Is Going To Land

It had been a long week of ministry with no end in sight and I still had energy and joy to keep going. I was talking on my phone in the back yard when I heard what sounded like a blow torch. My first thought was, "what is my neighbor doing over there?". I heard the noise again and I looked up and there in the sunset sky was a beautiful yellow hot air balloon. The longer I watched it the more I started laughing...the balloon kept getting closer like it was trying to land on my roof. As it hit the tree line I began realizing how low it was so I walked out to the street as a giant hot air balloon made an emergency landing on my street. Standing right there I began to laugh....it was so beautiful and yet so unexpected.

I think life brings us things sometimes that we don't expect and they can open our eyes to beauty we had been missing along the way. We think we are living life to the full until God reveals another layer of healing he wants us to walk through or another trial to endure. Sometimes God brings us to places where there are all new colors to be seen around us and we realize the life we had been living was a little colorless. That is how I feel the past weeks have been for me since meeting my Father...like my eyes have been opened to a new chapter. I guess I expected some epiphany to happen but really the week I had with Juan felt more like an act of obedience and something I knew I just had to do. It wasn't magical and it didn't seem lifechanging.

However, I can't even put into words the overall change I feel about life. It's like each day just seems to get brighter and lighter. I'm so happy about everything. Ministry doors are opening in front of me and I'm excited about this message of "Identity in Christ". I wonder deep down if this message is what my story and journey has all been about. I'm like the poster child to be talking to women about this topic...and it's deep and personal and a "still in process" kind of message. But my overall life of ministry and relationships is starting to take on a new look (but still with old flavors). Tonite I was asked to be a prayer partner at the end of our service and I got to pray with 4 girls...I knew 3 of them well and didn't really need to know how to pray. Each time I felt an almost prophetic prayer from deep within saying, "pray for them to know that Jesus is enough". I really stand in awe tonight of his blessings and his work in my life. I can say without a doubt that he is enough for me and he always will be. I think it all comes down to that core belief!
These past months have been some of the hardest of my life but seasons like this remind me of his grandeur purpose. He is crafting a work of art in each of us...a Picaso of sorts that people will brush against and stop and say, "Look at that". Everything in life right now looks brighter like I've had my eyes closed to the beauty around me.....my friends, creation, the cool air against my face. All of it pointing to my creator who is the master painter...and I am his work of art on display for the world to see.

I guess the moral of the story is that obedience to God brings blessing. We don't have to understand it or analyze it we just get to hold onto his hand and walk forward trusting that it's all leading to somewhere.
I love Chris Rice's old song "Deep Enough to Dream"

Deep enough to dream in brilliant colors
I have never seen
Deep enough to join a billion people
For a wedding feast
Deep enough to reach out and touch
The face of the One who made me
And oh, the love I feel, and oh the peace
Do I ever have to wake up...do I ever have to wake up?

Loving when it hurts! My Last Meeting with My Father.

Ken Sande says that it's much harder to "make peace" than it is to "keep the peace" and it takes a lot more courage. We went into see my Father and didn't have an agenda...we sat there awkwardly talking about the funny guy in the automatic chair that kept making circles around us and making undecipherable sounds.

We took Juan through a journey of pictures of our lives from little kids up to the present. It's strange having to evaluate your life and what you would share with someone who missed out on it all. It makes you think of the things you are most proud of. I showed him pictures of me on mission trips around the world...places like China, Peru, Costa Rica, Romania. There was a picture of me completing a triathlon and playing my french horn (not at the same time:). Then the day I got accepted into Moody Bible Institute and pictures of different kids I had impacted in ministry over the years.....I wanted so deeply for him to understand the depth of joy that my heart feels from serving the Lord. I wanted him to see it and rejoice with me but as I shared I knew he couldn't. Juan looked at the pictures so intently...as if he was watching a movie of our lives. At one point he saw a picture of me in a friends wedding and stoped and said, "you look so nice there". In the moment I said "thanks" but since then that comment made me feel the deep hole I have as a woman who rarely feels her own beauty. I thought of the things I wished he would have said to me as a little girl and the way not hearing it marred my sense of worth.

We sat around for awhile and even stood in the cold while he smoked a cigarette. Smoking seemed like the best part of his day...the one thing he looked forward to in life. As we came inside we started to say good bye and I am not good with good bye's. I wanted it to be fast and to be done with it...but I knew it may be the last time I saw my Father. I looked him in the eye and said "we have to go now". (I don't think your ever ready for moments like that.) He sadly asked if he would see us again but we were unsure. I was thinking, "it really depends on how long you live". I gave him a hug and it felt more familiar to me...a little easier than the day before. He said, "I love you Caye" and it took all of me but I whispered over top of his head, very softly, "I love you too". And I meant it....I loved him because he was God's creation too.
This entire process has given me a different perspective on the cross and what it really means. Christ died for the worst of sinners...for people like my Dad. And at the foot of the cross I am standing next to him and the invitation is open to everyone. I mean, I knew this before in my head but forgiving the one's who hurt you most makes you face the reality of what Christ has done for you. How could I recieve God's forgiveness for me but when the time came to pay it forward withhold my own blessing? Jesus loves us so much that though our sin has offended him and greived him and even caused other's deep pain...yet he carried our sin and took the punishment we deserved on that cross....the ugliest sin was covered by that sacrifice and for those who truly surrender to him he can wash us white as snow. And the cross is a picture of God's justice and wrath coming to meet the love and mercy of Christ. It's like a huge collision of contradiction but it's all in God and it all beautifully makes sense.

To the cross I look, to the cross I cling
Of its suffering I do drink
Of its work I do sing

For on it my Savior both bruised and crushed
Showed that God is love
And God is just

Chorus:
At the cross You beckon me
You draw me gently to my knees, and I am
Lost for words, so lost in love,
I’m sweetly broken, wholly surrendered

What a priceless gift, undeserved life
Have I been given
Through Christ crucified

You’ve called me out of death
You’ve called me into life
And I was under Your wrath
Now through the cross I’m reconciled

Another Meeting with My Father

You know, there are some days when the weather really fits the way you feel emotionally. Like when it rains on the day of a funeral. Well, that's the way this day was for me. I woke up so utterly exhausted from the emotion of the week that I didn't think I had strength to face the events that would unfold...but time was running out and we had avoided seeing my father a couple days in a row. We pulled into the parking lot and just sat in park staring at the snow falling and the wind blowing it into little twisters in the air. The clouds were so dark and there was not much sun shining in my heart either. We finally got out of the car and walked into the building. We entered Juan's room and he invited me to sit on his hospital bed. There wasn't much small talk before I pulled out my big blue study Bible. It was so precious to me and was filled with my handwriting from when God's word had first started to become alive to me at age 17. I flipped to the story of the theif on the cross and read the verses. God's word was so powerful in those moments...I could feel his word filling me with peace. After reading them I pointed out how the thief knew that he deserved his punishment. He acknowledged his sin and then put his faith in the one who could save him. And Jesus saved that guy in his last hour. "Juan, it's never too late to turn your life over to him. The only reason I'm here sharing this with you is because of God's work in my life. He is the reason I have become anything. And he wants you to know him and feel his forgiveness by accepting him into your heart. I would love to get to know you more in eternity". Today it was harder to keep the tears from coming. I gave him the Bible and said, "I want you to have this. I want you to know my Savior. Will you read it?" He nodded and took the Bible from my hand and when he saw my handwriting he smiled for the first time since I met him. He didn't say anything about what I said but I knew he would treasure that book and maybe it would lead him to the one who wrote it. We made our way to the cafeteria where we tried to make small talk....he had no history, no loves, no friends, no accomplishments to share. He bragged about gambling and how he lost thousands...he talked about the surgeries leading up to losing his legs to diabetes (caused by drinking).

At one point he said, "Caye could you go get my jacket from my room?" While I was there getting his coat I took a minute. "This person is my dad." It all felt serial. I bent over and touched his pillow and tears came to my eyes. There was globs of hair there and I thought about how his body was giving out. "Hold it together Caye", I said to myself. I opened his top drawer and fumbled through his things....picked up an old watch and held it. It was safer for me to hold that watch and feel close to him than it was in his presence. I took a deep breath and brought his coat to the other room. We soon began saying good bye. This time I bent down to his wheelchair and he wrapped his arm around my waist then he leaned his head into me and started crying...A chill ran up my spine and at the same time I wanted to receive it....I wanted to stay and run all at once. His crackling voice said, "I love you Caye, I missed you so much". I knew I couldn't say I loved him but I told him I missed him too. The words "I love you?"....I needed them so long ago, years ago...but looking back I know that my heavenly Father raised me. Not having a father made me run to the Lord and he truly has filled the Father hole in my heart. He was there, he never raised his hand to slap me, or raged with a bloodcurling temper. God was a gentle Father who held me when I cried and protected me when I was scared and raised me in his love. (Jer.31:3) I thank the Lord that I was Fatherless because now I know who I am and where I belong.

My first meeting with my Father........

I think it's impossible to recount all the details that have taken place over the last days. It's kind of one of those weeks like time just slows down and you walk forward into places you know your not even capable of being present in apart from the work of God. I was in awe at the way God had prepared me in previous days to face the biggest fear of my life-my Father. In my mind, he was a violent, tempered, abusive person I tip toed around as a child. I have no memories of any loving moments as father and daughter. So for me this was a process of facing the abuse and trying to forgive. I spent days in a class the week I found out where my father was being taught about helping people recover from abuse. I also was prayed for a week later by friends in my class and it was through that prayer I really felt it all go....the anger, the fear, the uncertainty.

The day I met my Father we walked into the room and I leaned over and shook his hand and said, "Hi, I'm Caye". He looked at us and said, "Oh, I thought you would still be little". We sat with him and talked awhile and at one point he said, "I was so mad at your Mom for taking you from me. But I know why she left...she left because I slapped her around". There was no remorse in his voice no apologies...."I leaned over and said, "Juan, you know she took us away because she thought it would be better for us not to grow up in that environment. I remember you getting violent with me too...Do you remember that?" He nodded and looked down. There was a sorrow in his face but it was the kind of sorrow that was more for himself...he had that same look every time I saw him. I said, "Well, you kind of messed me up inside but I want you to know, I FORGIVE YOU". I couldn't believe how easy it was...how it just rolled off my tongue and I really meant it. I felt so sturdy, so strong, so present....Juan looked down again and nodded. I reaized I was a different person than he was and I felt my heavenly father affirming me as his daughter....deep inside. I was not angry, I was not bitter, I was not afraid.........I was letting go.
He asked for a hug before we left and my brother and I walked out of the building. I felt no emotion really just a wave of release......I leaned over the car thinking I was going to toss my cookies and just then heard my phone ring. It was a friend calling to see how it went. I just know that the prayers and support of so many is what has made this possible. Thank you all.....