heaven

I'm not much of a dreamer, I don't like Disneyland and cringe at the their magical promise to make dreams come true. I live in a world where my feet are very much on the ground. To my own detriment I have a hard time even letting my mind wander. If something gets too big or too far out there the practical side of my brain gives up and goes back to the drawing board.

This has a huge effect on how I think about heaven. I've always wrestled with the idea of heaven. I know I can't even begin to understand, but I still want to know the boundaries or limitations of heaven. When I try to dream and think about heaven I end up confused and guilty, honestly not being able to feel excited about it.

That all changed a couple weeks ago, something clicked, it wasn't overnight but a gradual, creeping, longing for heaven. A deep pang, a weight that hung on my shoulders. A very clear reminder that nowhere on this amazing earth is my home. A discontentment and eager anticipation for something greater. Suffering makes you a lot of things, and uncomfortable is one of those things. A friend told me last week that grief is clumsy, and I've never heard it summed up better. It's confusing and up and down. It catches you at the worst times, it is committed to robbing you of your joy. In the midst of the past month, my heart has found rest when I find my mind wandering about heaven.

Today was another day of longing for heaven. Today death was close and it's sting was very present. But today more than ever I found my mind in heaven. Getting lost in the hope of Gods promise to restore and renew. I chuckled at how simple some of my ideas of heaven have been in the passed.

[oh that day when free from sinning, I shall see thy lovely face, clothed then in blood washed linen, how I'll sing thy sovereign grace.]

Heaven is a day that I will be made new. Where all the weight and sin that fights to have my heart will be put to death forever. Heaven is the first day I'll experience a day without sin. My first day without emotional or physical pain. I won't wander anymore because I will finally know rest.

I think about meeting little Bobby, he will be whole, with a new body. I picture him with chubby little cheeks and sparkly big eyes. I love to imagine him grinning and playing with his two big sisters. Running to hug his mom.

I think about seeing my grandma, I like to imagine she is young, younger than me. Wearing a beautiful blue dress. I'll get to worship Jesus beside her. Her body won't be slumped with age and her mind will be clear and crisp.

I think about other young lives you called home sooner than I had planned. I think about seeing Charlotte again, reuniting with my childhood friend.

Heaven is everything good I've know on this earth, made whole and new, completely restored. Heaven is greater than I can ever imagine. Heaven is a place my heart was made for and a place I now long for. Heaven is my home.

We see in a mirror dimly.

Everyday I go to work and only partially understand what I do, I understand procedures and best practices. I know techniques and strategies. I can take data and read programs and try to be flexible and think outside the box. I celebrate small victories and sometimes have a party about the simplest developmental milestones. I'm not scared of temper tantrums or having scissors thrown at me. I've been spit at, scratched, hit, head butted, and peed on. I've squeezed feet, massaged heads, given backwards hugs, played the same game over and over again, talked in pictures, done yoga, spent way too long coaxing one bite of food. I live in a world of rules and routine, I speak in one sided conversations for most of the day. 

Autism is one of the dearest things in the world to me. Nothing brings so much joy and so much pain into my life. Autism is something that no matter how much schooling I complete, how many different kids I work with, I will never understand, but autism is a puzzle I want to spend my life trying to understand. Life through their little eyes is something I would give the world to see, and something no matter how much I know, will never experience. 

I will never know the panic and fears that are so debilitating you can't function, the overflow and outpouring of sensory chaos. The inability to use language the way your brain understands it, the frustration of being misunderstood or constantly misunderstanding. Being written off because you're too 'low functioning' or not supported enough because you're so 'high functioning'. Autism isn't a switch you can turn on and off, it's not a choice you make in the morning, it's not just being stubborn or hardheaded. Autism can mean you don't eat your breakfast because your mom bought the wrong cereal, you can't get dressed because your sweater is scratchy. You scream because the water is too cold, you hurt yourself because your sibling is too loud, the work is too hard, the light is too bright, these things aren't a choice, they are all consuming. 

Everyday I see families who look at their kids with a desperate desire to understand. I show up for 2 or 3 hrs a couple times a week with that same desperate desire. A desire so strong that some days you want to just put your head through a wall. On those days, on the days when I look into a weary mom's eyes and have no words to comfort her with, I know this...

"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." 

"For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known."

"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted

and saves the crushed in spirit."

"But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong;"

This is good news. This is the best news…

I know that, my ability to understand is small, my perspective is easily skewed, I have very limited vision.   The love of my Saviour however is not, we do not worship a limited God. He is not surprised or puzzled by anything, He does not experiment or have trials fail. He created these kids and He's bigger than autism. This brings hope to my soul because I know I have a loving Father. He's met our deepest needs and loves us despite our fears, failures and discouragement. He gives us desires and passions and promises to work all things together for our good and His glory.

So on the days when I see a little person being swallowed up by autism I don't have to understand why, or even how to make it better, I need to know that He loves them more than I can, He knows their needs and their struggles and He has promised good for them, a good that surpasses our limited vision of good. I can't understand that, but I believe it, and I love it. 

It's a love I can't understand.

I know I can get people to like me, for the most part my track record is pretty good. The list of people that probably hate me is pretty short. If I try, I can be witty, thoughtful, and a pretty fun person. I'm good with kids, I can cook a decent meal, I can throw a successful party. (and no this isn't a eHarmony account profile.) 

But what scares me to the point of loosing sleep at night is that none of that stuff matters in light of eternity. God doesn't care if I can make a room full of people laugh. Or if I can get through all the churchy Sunday morning lingo with ease and grace. He certainly doesn't care how many 'likes' my Instagram got or how many friends I have. 

And when you peel away all the stuff that the world says makes you "you". You realize you stand before God pretty empty handed and helpless. This is where I find myself struggling so frequently to fully believe that God loves me, that he could possibly love this tornado of disorder and failure. This is where things get really beautiful and really messy. 

When I'm told Jesus died for all my sin, all my failure I'm left with a choice. I can come empty handed and unimpressive, to the Father, and receive his love, just as I am. Or I can reject it. 

So even though I can't understand why all the time, I take a step of faith and come, empty handed. Even when I can't believe it, or my heart doesn't want to believe it. All I need to do is look at the testimony of God's faithful love for me through his birth, life, death and resurrection. That is love.

It's a love that says 'come'. 

It's a unprejudiced love.

It's the love of a Father to orphan kids.

It's the sweetest love that never leaves you wanting. 

It's a love that restores and heals

Its a love that spills out from you and effects people around you. 

It's selfless love. 

It's a love that frees

It's a love that redefines my tiny little version of love. 

It's a love that enables me to love.

It's a perfect love.

It's a love for me. 

That blows my mind. That's a love I can't understand. But it's a love worth trying and failing to understand for the rest of my life. 

what i learned in a year.

[For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you.]

[Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him.]

[Our soul waits for the LORD; he is our help and our shield. For our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name. Let your steadfast love, O LORD, be upon us, even as we hope in you.]

What I’ve learned in a year is that Jesus is faithful no matter what. What I’ve learned in a year is that his plan is good and straight, it’s better than I can ever imagine. What I’ve learned in a year is that despite all those things life is hard. It’s a mess. 

Only one short year ago I said goodbye with tears in my eyes to what I thought was going to be my forever. I carried my two suitcases into the airport, cried in the bathroom, and got on the plane. I landed, emotionally exhausted, and really unsure how to pick up life again. Before I knew it I was being surrounded by my mom’s arms. The woman whom I’ve only seen cry a handful of times in my life, was weeping. My dad towered over both of us and just kept saying “You’re home.”

I’ll never forget that moment. I wasn’t fearful of coming home, but I was a bit hesitant, it would be too gentle to say I ‘strained’ these relationships. Truthfully, I had burnt many of them. I was the prodigal, returning home empty handed and humbled. Picking up life where you suddenly dropped it is hard. Rebuilding relationships you neglected takes time, it is painful. I remember being terrified I was depressed, scared to even say the word for fear that it would some how take hold of me. But the reality was the energy I once had to pull everything together was dwindling. I thought I needed to be louder than my emotions but what I learned this year is that I really just needed to bring everything before my Father. 

I thought that day was hard, I had no idea what the next year would be like and that was probably the mercy and kindness of the Lord. I was jobless for a couple months, I had no car, moved back with my parents. My mom went a through intensive treatment for her MS, my parents took in two foster kids, the church where my dad is on staff was still recovering from a messy church split, there were hospital visits, medical diagnosis that as a family, brought us to our knees. I remember sitting one night with my mom on the couch saying, “This year sucks.” Everything about it made me want to crawl in a hole. But thankfully I had people around me that didn’t let me. There were FaceTime’s that lasted hours, endless conversations on my siblings couch, or floor, or kitchen counters (a Sczebel thing), or sitting at my parents table with a glass of wine. There were simple one line emails, and scripture verse texts. There were faithful people committed to my good, no matter what or how long that took.

I don’t even think they knew, but they were so clearly demonstrating Christ’s love for me. At a time when nothing was making sense, there were no more words to say or things do, I just needed time. They showed me how to love Jesus while I was waiting. How to understand that Jesus loves this version of me, not a future me. They showed me that the Gospel applies to every single area of my life. They showed me that whatever happened he was my solid rock. They made me laugh and listened when I complained. I didn’t deserve these people, but they loved me selflessly, and fiercely. 

What I learned in year is that my life will probably never make sense. What I’ve learned in a year is that Jesus triumphed over heartache, failure, wandering, suffering, pain, confusion, anxiety. I've learned that God loves me very much, and I'm trying to celebrate and live in light of that. What I learned in a year is that I’m a mess, life is a mess, and its all for his glory. What I’ve learned in a year is that because of the great love I’ve experienced, I’m called to give that love. I’m called to take on other peoples mess and faithfully point them the Jesus. 

Mom, Dad, Seth, Janners, Kars, Britt, Lisa, Josh, Joe, Tins, Becks, Becca, Lydia, Kwendra and so many more. I love you very, very much. So incredibly thankful for your care, love and support this past year. 

Even when

[Even when it seems the answer's no

The promises of God all find their Yes

In Christ who worked the Father's will below

That all who run to him would find their rest

And even when it seems he hides his face

And darkness seems to be our only friend

We look to Christ who suffered in our place

That one day all our suffering would end

And even when it seems he pays no mind

We have a guarantee of his great love

In Christ who came and left his crown behind

That one day we would reign with him above

Lord, we believe

But help our unbelief

Lord, we believe

But help our hearts to sing

That you are good, all of the time

All of the time, you are good

You are good all, of the time

Your are good

Lord, you are good]

God is Good- Dustin Kensue

Father this morning my hearts breaking for the heart break that's surrounding friends and family near and far. Those who are struggling to fight the grip of depression or the empty, numb, feeling of death. Those waiting on phone calls with scan results or good news. Those who have lost jobs, need jobs, or are battling mental health. For the ones that can't get out of bed today, because they are so riddled with pain.

You are near to the broken hearted, closer then I could ever be. I want to help and hand out bandaids but these people don't need a quick fix. They need you, they need grace for today. They need strength to lift their eyes to you.

[By the word of the LORD the heavens were made, and by the breath of his mouth all their host. He gathers the waters of the sea as a heap; he puts the deeps in storehouses. For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm.]

You commanded the ocean and it was still. You spoke and the heavens were created. I can't even understand the stars, you created them. You are holding everything perfectly in place, your hands never shaking, never wavering. You give strength to the weak and courage to broken. You restore and you heal. I pray for patience and understanding while you redeem in your perfect timing. I pray for boldness to cling to your promises and proclaim your goodness. Father with confidence I look forward to the day I'm standing in heaven, looking at how you worked all these circumstances out for your glory. I can't wait for the day we're united and made whole again. Your restoration process is so much more complex and beautiful than I could ever imagine. Until that day, I pray for grace and thank you for today, knowing that you are good.

Even when you can't force a smile. Even when your baby is laying in a hospital bed. Even when your church is collapsing. Even when your job falls out from underneath you. Even when you peel yourself off a loved one and say goodbye. Even when you don't have the words to say anything. Even when your heart gets broken. Even when you watch your family dissolve. Even when you don't know why. Even when the phone doesn't ring. God is good. 

[it's not enough]

Father forgive me for holding onto my stuff too tightly. For clinging to conversations, empty words and or hurtful actions. Forgive me for constantly trying to redefine my life by my accomplishments, my job title, or how I'm "doing". Forgive me for repeatedly going to empty wells expecting to be filled. For wandering and making lame excuses for why I lack joy or why I'm too busy for people. Forgive me for where I've cancelled you out of the equation, where I’ve been living dangerously deceived that my works are enough.

Though all the wealth of men was mine to squander

And towers of ivory rose beneath my feet

Were palaces of pleasure mine to wander

The sum of it would leave me incomplete

Though every soul would hold my name in honor

And truest love was always by my side

My praises sung by grateful sons and daughters

My soul would never still be satisfied

Though I could live for all to lift them higher

Or spend the centuries seeking light within

Though I indulged my every dark desire

Exhausting every avenue of sin

It’s not enough, it’s not enough

I could walk the world forever

Till my shoes were filled with blood

It’s not enough, it’s not enough

I could right all wrongs, or ravage

Everything beneath the sun

It’s not enough, it’s not enough

Though all would bow to me

Till I could drink my fill of fear and love

It’s not enough, it’s not enough

[It’s not enough – Dustin Kensrue]

Father I'm so thankful you tell us to come lay aside any weight. Just to come and be clean, be restored. It's because you sent your son for me I can come boldly to the table as the overachiever, control freak that I am and all you see is your daughter, your prodigal. I pray for eyes to see my sin more clearly and to be broken by it. It's only then that I can really experience your grace, grace to change and grow. I pray that the more I push into you the more I can push into loving others. So father thank you for the limbo. Thank you for your Holy Spirit and for revealing more and more. For reminding me that all my mess was paid for at the cross. All my works are filthy rags none are enough to save my soul. 

Tell him you have a Saviour.

There is a fountain filled with blood

For those who stand condemned

The enemies accusing words

Say God will not defend

Tell him you have a Saviour

That Jesus paid it all

For sin there is a fountain filled with blood

Come, Come to the fountain

Stained by the fall Come and be clean

Come, His blood spilled for many

He will revive you, wash and redeem

And by that fountain's saving flow

We are renewed each day

The wellspring of our joy and hope

The current of His grace

It floods our hearts with wonder!

What kindness, oh what love!

Such mercy in that fountain filled with blood.

The blood of Jesus

Precious blood of Jesus

No other fount I know

It washed white as snow

Father it’s not new news that this world is broken, and we know the church is no exception from this. The church is a hospital for sick people, a shelter in the storm. At the point of conversion we do not stop sinning.  We are rather made painfully aware of our sin and beautifully aware of our Saviour. We begin the long process towards sanctification. So the church isn’t filled with perfect people, its filled with striving sinners. He’s committed to making us new, when he looks at us, he see’s sons and daughters, he doesn’t see sinners. But we are sinners, until that day when we are finally with him we will wrestle, we will hurt, we will fall. The invitation stands for you and for me, for the most wretched sinner, the outcast, the bitter, the wandering, the broken, the depressed, the lonely, the lost. Tell the enemy who’s calling you, taunting you, that you have a Saviour, that Jesus paid it all. Sinner, come to the fountain, come and be clean. 

[Copyright 2013 Words by Pat Sczebel and Nate Stiff, music by Pat Sczebel]