If I knew for years when my last night on earth would be, I am pretty sure that I would have sat and planned the most magical time ever. Maybe my family is riding Soarin’ at Epcot for hours because we all adore that ride. Maybe I’m watching a sunset do its thing across the ocean. Perhaps, Team Geanes is piled up in our living room binge watching our favorite movies together. Maybe just maybe I’m making snow angels or hiking a mountain. Let’s be honest, if I knew it was going to be my last night on this side of heaven– we might be doing all of the above! It would be the most epic “yes” day we’ve ever had. I doubt, sincerely, that I would spend time preparing a meal or setting a table and most certainly I wouldn’t be serving dinner to someone who sold me out to haters, and I doubt that I would be having hard conversations. Yet, Jesus did.

He knew things were about to be literally life-draining. While there were people gathered elsewhere planning His trial, Jesus served dinner. He gathered around the table and had dinner with His twelve disciples. And He had hard conversations. He painted a picture of what was about to happen and essentially said “you guys are going to fall to pieces over what’s about to happen to Me”. Jesus looks at the folks who had been like family and lets them know that Judas is going to hand him over to haters for money. He spends his final night telling Peter that Peter will deny Jesus three times before the sun comes up. And it all happened.

Can you imagine? It’s His last night on this side of heaven and Jesus is feeding and hanging out with the guys who would soon disown Him. It’s His last night before death and Jesus is washing the nasty, dirty feet of folks who will run and hide in fear in just a few hours. He was bracing Himself for the crowd of scoffers. The very same people who had just been shouting Hosana, laying their coats on the ground because they adored Him too much for even his donkey’s feet to get dirty. He knew the tide was changing.

Talk about an emotional roller coaster! But Jesus… He’s here for it.

Tonight, Churches everywhere will gather in remembrance of these events. And I can’t help but wonder– does Jesus look at us today thinking “you’re falling to pieces”. Or “you, you will betray me before the sun comes up”. Bless our hearts. But still… He’s here for it.

Lord, have mercy.

Numbers. It feels like everything is based on numbers these days. Every form I ever complete wants my social security number, driver’s license number, phone number, and… more numbers. The first thing my doctor wants to know? The numbers on the scales, the numbers on the cuff that hugged my arm, and the number of trips I’ve had around the sun since I last saw her.

There are numbers on the daily that I’m tracking too, if I’m honest. The numbers in my bank account, on the scales, and the ones on the tags at the store. I’m watching the numbers on the 7-day forecast and I would love to know who has the higher score in the game right now. How’s my kid really doing in Science?

You’re doing it too, aren’t you? I bet you know confidently how many heart eyes your picture has and not just once a day, but every time you stop to scroll. That number is important. You’re watching what’s trending right now and someone’s literally being paid to track that for you. The officer wants to know how many miles per hours you think you were going over and everyone wants to know how many more days are there until summer break.

The amount of money we donate to a cause determines our level of thank of you gift and the number on our ticket tells us which number gate we will enter into. All of our kids want to know how many more minutes they have to wait.

Numbers, numbers, numbers. EVERYTHING is measured and ran on numbers. Heck, even this laptop I sit at is running on ones and zeroes. 

How did we get here? Where everything is quantified instead of qualified. I have no idea! I wish I did,

Here’s what I do know though… You are so much more than a number! We both are. I’m afraid, however, that we are letting ourselves get so caught up in what our price point is that we’ve forgotten that we are actually PRICELESS! We’ve lost sight of the fact that God loves us so much that He doesn’t ask us how many more tears we will cry before we get back up in His strength. He does not care how many zeroes are on the check we wrote (does anyone still write checks?) for the offering plate. He could not be any less interested in some of the numbers that we seem to be most attracted to.

He just loves you and me for who we are because we are His! Here’s the math He wants us to know:

He gave His one Son for the whole world so that we could have salvation in Him. 

Gosh, friends. I’m hoping and praying that we can let that be enough for us again. That we can stop being so caught up in the numbers of approval from the world and just. rest. in. THAT!

Also, it wasn’t lost on me this weekend that my “newly renovated” room had shades that looked like this.

Recently, I posted this.  I felt like I had found a good place again with this place we call church and it was spilling over into other aspects of my life as well.  I was all set to love on frozen hearts and set the focus to my own heart and kept praying that mine would soften to love on people even when it’s hard.

And then we lived this past week.

And all of those tears, that I’m tired of shedding, silently rolled down my cheeks as I ended my day feeling very much on the outside of the very circle that we claim to live in and amongst.

But this time has to be different.  This time, I’ll remind myself that my worth isn’t grounded in what other people think and who’s hanging out with whom and whether I’m heard by this world or not.

This time’s different, yes.  This time, I’m choosing to see God move in the midst of it and while I haven’t found Him yet—I know He’s using it.  I can almost feel the very sharpening that I’ve prayed for.

So this time, I’ll choose to grin.  The kind of grin you give your mom when she’s caught you and your sisters consuming a million cookies before dinner, and you offer her one knowing you aren’t really in trouble.  I can’t be consumed by the chaos that my mind could become what-ifing it all.  I’m too excited about what I know to be just around the corner.

And it’s going to be a beautiful thing, I’m sure.  Getting there is sure to be painful; we don’t do easy here.  But as I sit fleshing it out with my husband, I can tell he’s getting excited again.  And, I’m stoked.

We’re dreaming again and dreaming bigger than before.  We know that with these dreams come sacrifices.  Sacrifices that most people will not truly understand.  We’re okay with that.  In fact, it doesn’t monopolize much space in the conversation.  For the first time in a while, I sense that we’re coming into confidence in the Lord and His prompting and I’m amazed at how right on time it’s all coming together.

I’m sure that more tears will roll through all of it.  So, if you think about us… pray that I’ll see them differently.

And just because Meredith Andrews is one of my favorites and her music seems to play in my car… or at my desk… right when I need her.  Plus, she’s from Wilson and I just think that makes me like her even more.

I’m sure we’re the only house that does this, but there’s a coat that has sat in the bottom of our dirty clothes hamper for months now.  It’s a heavier coat, the kind you wear when it’s 26 degrees outside.  It’s sat there because, until now, it hasn’t been cold enough to need it and there never seems to be enough room in the washer for it with everything else.  Just keep that and the fact that I clean when I’m bummed tucked away while you read…

It had been one of those days that just seemed to be continuously full of unexpected news.  With each new “announcement” came the need to either regroup plans, take on more stuff, or ended with more time away from each other.  And it all seemed to come in the midst of a very unfabulous (that’s right, I use made up words here) day in the office.  And maybe I just have holiday-itis (which is kind of like Senior-itis that you get your senior year in school), but I didn’t really want to accept reality today.  I just really wanted things to go my way and start decorating for Christmas.  (And no, I don’t have anything at all against Thanksgiving.  I’m just reeeaaallllllyyyy thankful for Christmas.)

I walked into the house after working late and made my way up the stairs to our room.  I got a grumble from our kid when I mustered the hello.  She’s not really feeling me today, which is probably a good thing because I’m not really feeling the world today.  I change clothes and head back down to the kitchen to see what I can do to help with dinner and kiss my busy husband.  He tells me how he’s gotten a text that says he should probably make plans to be at the Christmas party, which is the same day I want him out of town with me.  Win number two tonight.  (Note the sarcasm.)

I quietly get up and head down the stairs and begin dealing with laundry.  I like to take on laundry when I’m feeling not in control of other things and/or sort of down. Right now, it’s both.  The thing about laundry is that it’s a task that’s always available for me to take on.  It seems to never end.  I can control it and I like the end result.

So, I did laundry.  Lots and lots of laundry.  I washed, folded, hung to dry…

And, I prayed that God would teach me to let go of the planning.  And if you’ve been following my blog for a while or just know me or just know that you’re a planner too… then you understand just how painful of a prayer that is for me.  I’m all out of tears these days though.   So, the pain was shown in pure silence.  And, I wrestled with what big change must be coming our way because I’m having to re-learn this notion that God is not surprised by anything and that I need to just be content in His sovereignty.  And I lived silently that night until even that jacket had been washed.

We had been packing for what felt like forever. Which is weird, because I never felt like we had truly unpacked since our last move. And hadn’t we been moving stuff little by little all week anyway? And why do we still have so much stuff? We’ve been purging and purging . And Kelley and I had just moved the kitchen last weekend. Didn’t we? Why does this kitchen still feel full of stuff? Our little lady was staying with my parents so that we could stay up packing all night, but my body was beginning to rebel against me. I needed a nap. I looked at my night owl of a husband and asked that he wake me up in an hour.
Four hours later, my alarm was going off. How is it already 6!?! I thought we were getting up an hour! We’re so not ready. There’s still mess to pack! I immediately go back to packing mode and my husband goes to find us food. He returns and makes me stop to eat and I knew I’d be thankful for that later.

“We aren’t ready. This house is still a mess.”

“It’s okay. Our friends and our family will be here soon and everything’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”

It wasn’t much longer when we heard the back doorbell ring. Our friends were starting to arrive. The first of which we had just learned last weekend would no longer be amongst our Sunday School family. And I’d taken that news hard. It was really good to have them walk through the door and remind us that doing life together isn’t contingent on being in the same class.

“Hey y’all. Come on in.”
“We aren’t as ready as I had hoped. There’s still stuff to pack.”
She looked at me and smiled. “It’s okay. It’s a work in progress. We’re here to help. Tell me where to start. Where are boxes? I’ll start packing back here.” And my husband was right. Everything was going to be okay. Her husband walked through to the living room,
“We brought our van with the back seats out. Okay if I start loading this stuff in here into it? And then when the other house opens up, I’ll head over there with it.”
“Sure. That’d be great.”

It wasn’t long after that initial moment of admitting that our house was still a mess and that I was looking a hot mess, that our house was full of our people. And they were willing to come in, be in our mess with us, and share in the excitement of our family’s new home. In a few short hours, they had us completely moved.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

We headed to the new house and I was almost dreading it, because I know how much stuff we have and how much unpacking was ahead of us.

I walked through our new front door and everyone was working so hard to help us get settled. Two friends had already set Katherine’s room up for her, ready for her to come unpack her stuff. Another was walking up to me, asking about bedding for our two rooms.

“We need to at least get y’all in position to crawl in bed tonight.”
“It’s out in my trunk.”
“Let me get your keys then.”
“I’ll walk with you.” During our walk, I looked at her and said, “I feel bad that you guys have had to help do so much of this mess today.”
“Girl, we all have mess. It just doesn’t always look the same. Trust me, it’s so NOT a big deal.”

I walked back in where curtains were being hung and our kitchen was being unpacked. I stepped downstairs to find men folks hooking up the washer and dryer. My dad was calling me to the boiler room, he’d discovered how hot our water was running and wanted to show me how to monitor and control that. Somewhere in there we had stopped to eat the food that another friend had picked up and she gathered all of our kids out the door for softball game. Giving us a chance to breathe for a minute. Our community had more than rallied for our need.
At the end of our day, I crawled into bed completely exhausted and so thankful that it was made for us. The house was quiet and I was thanking God for this group of people that He lets us do life with. These friends that are family who were Jesus with skin on for us that day. And truthfully… mess or not… I can’t imagine doing life without them.

It’s been just over seven weeks since I last posted to this blog.  And I would love to tell you that it’s because we’re incredibly busy and I haven’t had time.  That wouldn’t be completely true.  Sure, we’re busy.  Not any more busy than anyone else though.  And the thing I’ve learned about time… there’s always enough.  Just depends on how we use it.  Figure the Lord gave us all the time we needed.  He just expects us to be good stewards of it.

So no.  It’s not that I haven’t had enough time.  To be honest, I found that I was more willing to be real to cyberspace than to those sitting in my physical space.  And, that’s probably not good.  We were designed for community and to live in it.  I needed to learn how to do that a little better before I returned to the keyboard.

I haven’t mastered it by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ve gotten better at it.  At least, I like to think so.  So… I’m crawling back to the blog and trying to find my cyber voice again.

In the spirit of returning, I’ll spend the next week “catching you up” on the last seven.  Stay tuned, if you will…

I sit and stare at a poster of Elsa, Anna, Olaf, and Kristoff.  I’ve seen the movie about 42½ times now with our little Ice Princess.  Tonight, the poster that hangs in her room brings clarity.  She prays “God, help us to always love you” and I pray for the wisdom to know how to show it.  And then I find my mind playing the movie.  I’m a sucker for some Olaf.  Can I get a witness?

Love.  That’s what it’s gonna take.  It’s gonna take love to thaw a frozen heart.  And really, I would like to think that “they” are the ones with frozen hearts.  And they are.  But if we’re honest, so am I.  My heart is hardened to the notion that they can change.  And maybe they can’t.

But I’m not responsible for them.  I’m responsible for me.  And my God is love.  And He calls me to love.  It’s the only way the world will know that I’m a Jesus-follower—if I have and live love.  To everyone.  Whether they’re nice or not (I know.  I hate that part too.)  Because Jesus thinks we’re all a frozen heart worth mining.

So… I need to buy into that too.  Heaven help us all, y’all but I’m asking to be thrown into the melting pot.  I figure once we’ve all jumped into that, then our Refiner can blend us into something beautiful.

Y’all pray that I’ll stop kicking and screaming the whole way there.  ‘Cause if we’re honest (and we’re honest here) I’m at a place of feeling done loving tough people.  But Jesus isn’t done loving me and I can be really tough to love, so I have to learn to keep on loving this place—even when it’s tough.