Camping Out

I told you in the last blog that I was taking time away from the computer to live and to love right where I am. As always, His plans far surpassed mine. (Mine involved naps and giggling.) 

He keeps teaching me family and is even giving me tastes of some of the other ways He loves. You know, the sides that hurt. If anybody knows about hurty love, it's that Father and that Son that said it was worth it. (John 3:16)

I stepped away from my "normal" daily life routines for a sort of holiday of different proportions than what I was really bargaining for. 

It's kinda like camping...

Everybody gets excited at the beginning of a camping trip.

Load an ice chest, tents, sleeping bags and a truck load of Deet if you happen to be camping in Texas.

Take a road trip to find a place with air so fresh you can almost taste the extra-twinkly stars.

Pitch a tent, unfold some chairs, spark a fire, and sing a little Kumbaya.

It's a beautiful adventure. 

The living in a tiny tent, carrying a roll of toilet paper into the woods, and wild-outdoorsy body aroma is charming for a weekend... a week if you're really hard core. 

But there is nothing like that first shower and the first night of sleep back in your own bed. No more bumps or bites in the night. No more snoring from the sleeping bag next to yours. 

Home Sweet Home. 

Yesterday I walked, talked and sang to God about how much I love him. I was radiant by His love. I was so pleased to be displeased with this earth. And yesterday every prayer I prayed was heard and answered. He makes all things good and wraps them in Truth and Love. 

Today, partially in response to the tremendous emotions wrapped up in all those answered prayers from yesterday, I feel crumply. Exhausted.

Nothing's wrong. Nothing's out of line. I'm learning about His Family, just like I asked.
Yesterday it just got personal.

Greater things have yet to come...
Greater things are still to be done...

So today I will worship from this crumply earthly tent, punctured by the spears and sharp edges of my own self-defenses and of humanity not having the capacity to squeeze all that Perfect Love by the Perfect Family 3-pack into these earthly tents. 

Paul was a tent-maker. He gets camping. His words in 2 Corinthians 3-5 have been my camp-fire song for the past few nights. 

"Now we know that if this earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling..." (2 Cor 5:1-2)

From every hole in me- the grabby, selfish, foot-stomping, whiney-voiced parts that just keep getting it wrong...

Jesus, flood this tent. Break through this earthly dwelling and let Your light shine through. 

It's not supposed to feel good here. And today I'm not pleased. I'm not beaming with the hope of the Kingdom coming like I was yesterday. 

Today I'm groaning with the hope of the Kingdom coming. Sometimes even stomping and whining about it. But keep it coming, Jesus. 

"For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not with to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life." (2 Cor 5:4)

We're camping out, sitting under the starry blanket of creation, singing songs as part of a new creation. 

Some days we take soak up the adventure of the campout and love on that breathtaking beauty, Mama Nature. 

Some days we just wanna go Home and see our Dad. 

"Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. We live by faith, not big sight. We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord." (2 Cor 5:6-8)

Kumbaya everybody. 

Kumbaya.