Home is where I feel loved. A safe haven from the storm. A place where I can let
my hair and guard down, comfortable in sharing all that I am. Tears running down
my face in laughter or pain, when I’m home, it’s okay. You are my home.
A woman sits on a park bench crying. Not sobbing, but softly allowing tears to stream down her face. Some passersby take notice. A young couple pushing their baby in a stroller glance. Unsure about approaching the woman, they awkwardly hurry by. An older woman stops and sweetly tells the woman she’s too pretty to be crying and that she’ll ruin her makeup. Finally, an elderly man takes a seat on the bench with the woman. Such a gentleman, he offers his handkerchief and asks why she’s crying? What makes her so sad?
The woman turns and looks at him with sincere eyes, stating her tears aren’t from being sad or angry. She explained that as she sat on the bench, basking in the sunshine, enjoying the cool spring day, she began to reflect on how much her life has changed for the better; the challenges she’s overcome, the experience of feeling truly loved and the willingness to show compassion and love towards others. The woman went on to say that her life changed when she obtained a deeper understanding of who she is – a child of God, a daughter of Christ her King. The challenges and setbacks she faced in life equipped her to walk out her purpose and be of service to others.
She assured the man there was no need to feel sorry for her because she was finding fulfillment and peace unlike she’s ever known. Who cares about a perfectly made up face when you’re sitting awestruck before a perfect God.
and provide for those who grieve in Zion — to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lordfor the display of his splendor. – Isaiah 61:3 (New International Version)
The perfect vitality of heaven came to earth on a mission of love, acquainting Himself with human imperfection and frailty. He already loved us, already knew us, but walked in our shoes, carried our shame and conquered the grave. There’s no burden or heartache too hard for Him. Mighty to save, full of compassion and grace, His desire is to draw us close in full embrace.
Some people are afraid of quiet, craving constant chatter and noise, busyness. There’s a difference between silence and quiet for me.
The quiet is stillness. It brings me back to the audience of One; giving thanks, shedding tears and unburdening my soul. Quiet allows me to slow the frenetic pace and rest in a place of calm. The quiet clears my mind and helps me find new perspective. Refreshed, I can get back into the game with renewed strength and focus.