High Place Safe Space

God, listen to me shout, bend an ear to my prayer. When I’m far from anywhere, down to my last gasp, I call out, “Lead me to the rock that is higher than I!” You’ve always given me breathing room, a place to get away from it all, a lifetime pass to your safe-house, an open invitation as your guest. You’ve always taken me seriously, God, made me welcome among those who know and love you.  Psalm 61:1-5

Sometimes I more easily relate to this passage of scripture than any other. I find myself seemingly far from shore, down to my last gasp. I become entangled in the things of this life and the next thing I know, I'm splashing around with my head barely above the water, doggy-paddling to say alive. In these moments, everything in the world seems to be fighting for my attention. Monster waves surround me in the form of papers to be written, exams to be taken, people to be loved, and plans to be made. 

But among the 30-foot waves, the downpour of the rain, and the crashing of the thunder that threatens to steal every ounce of my peace, I catch a glimpse of the coast in the near distance. I see the waves pounding against the shoreline, but I also see that there stands a rock on the shore that is untouched by the storm. It rises far above the reach of the waves and is formed in such a way that there is a niche to provide shelter from the rain. God, lead me to this rock that is higher than I!

Once I find myself in this place of shelter, the waves don't look as threatening as before. The freezing rain doesn't sting my skin as it falls from the sky. The thunder doesn't sound as intimidating muffled by the solid walls of the rock. It is easier to breathe in the safety of this sanctuary. There is a sense of safety that finds its way into my heart.

How foolish I would be to choose to remain exposed to the elements when this place of refuge has been made available to me. How foolish I would be to choose to splash around on the verge of drowning in a multitude of worldly demands when God is inviting me to take refuge in His arms. He has always given me breathing-room, a place to get away from it all, a lifetime pass to his safe-house, an open invitation as His guest.

Unfortunately, there have been moments I have chosen foolishness over shelter. Instead of retreating to His high place, I have tried to crawl back into my capsized boat and row my way out of the storm. It never works. I'm not strong enough to row fast enough to find my way out. It is only when I choose to run to the Rock that is higher than I that I find my safe space in the midst of life's most threatening storms. 

This high place, this safe space from the storm, is where you can find me today. Feel free to join me. He has room for the both of us.

A Home For My Homeless Heart

"You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart will always be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place."

It's a trendy quote. When I first read it, I fell in love with it because it rang so true in my own heart. What this quote fails to mention, however, is just how restless you feel when part of your heart is always elsewhere. It fails to mention, too, that there is a longing deep inside of you to always be somewhere other than where you are. Dangerous stuff. 

This week is Fall Break for Oral Roberts University. I had been counting down the days until I would be able to return here to see my family and friends that I have been missing so deeply. My plane landed in Houston last Friday night and I could hardly wait for the other passengers to grab their bags so that I could run off of the plane and see my family. All I had been thinking about for weeks was finally having the opportunity to be at home. The time that I have spent here has been so sweet. I have loved seeing my mom and dad and spending time with my friends. But here I am a day before my flight back to Tulsa and I find myself saying that I am ready to head home. My heart longs to be somewhere I am not.

So where is my home, really? If home is where the heart is, I think it's safe to say I'd fit right in with a clan of nomads. My heart has the ability to be in Juarez, Rio, Lima, Tulsa, and Houston all in the same day. Let me tell you, it is hard to feel at home when your heart is being pulled in five different directions at once. It creates an extreme feeling of restlessness. It threatens peace with an overwhelming sense of discontentment. Restlessness and discontentment are not two words that I desire to characterize my life. So what am I supposed to do? I can't forget about my friends in Lima. I can't un-see the faces of the people on the streets of Rio. I can't quench the love I have for a city on the border of Mexico. I can't pretend that my family doesn't live Texas while I reside in Tulsa with people I also call family. The only answer is to find a permanent residence for my heart. But where?

There is but one consistent thing in my life. There is but one thing that I can count on day after day. There is but one thing in heaven and on earth that does not change with the seasons, nor come and go with the changing of the tides. I find a home for my homeless heart in the hands of my faithful God. It is too exhausting to live being tossed around always wishing for something not within my reach. Life demands too much to not have a place to call home at the end of the day. I chose to make my place of rest, my home, in His presence. This does not mean I will love any less. This does not mean I will not carry a burden for the people who have captured my heart. This means that I am content, I am at rest, and I am secure in my Father.