community

Oh how He loves us.

And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge — that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:17-19)

The love of Christ beyond our thought capacity. It surpasses knowledge ya’ll. We CANNOT understand the depths of it. And as I think on this verse, I’m all the more convinced that this love is something we grab hold of and grow to understand TOGETHER, just like it says.

…that we may have power, together with the saints, to grasp how wide, long, and high…

I’m weeks into the study of community — contemplating trees, clouds and the skies above, and I see this God of ours in every detail. In the colors and in the call for us to link arms together.

As I stare out to where heaven meets earth (as the David Crowder band says), I’m blinded by the DEPTHS. The lengths He’s gone to show us LOVE.

When we think of this love we see the cross. The glorious cross. It’s love at its truest. But the imagery, that loses some of us, doesn’t it? It’s hard to close in on. It seems so far off. And yet, it’s the ultimate picture of His bottomless love for us.

Thankfully, His love is found sprinkled in everything in between too. So God makes it easy for us. HE PAINTS THE SKY. His love graces every sun ray, and the lines of light waves that color the skies. He created it all. LIGHT and WAVES and PARTICLES, and yes, even the science behind them.

It’s His hand that colors our world.

It’s His hand behind the cones of vision that make up our sight. It’s His hand that makes it possible to even open our eyelids and take in the morning sunrise or the hints of green we breeze by in nature. It’s His hand that brushes the blue above that overhangs our every day.

There it is. HIS design. And it’s woven in LOVE, my friends. We miss it though. We forget God’s handiwork. We don’t see him in the details. But we question Him in the brokenness, don’t we? We think His hand owns the injustice. We somehow think all that is God’s doing. Not mankind’s. And all the while, as we raise our fists in indifference, we are still here, folded in His mercy. Sandwiched in His grace in a world that we believe is all science and no God.

I was in the middle of making dinner — lasagna at that — a meal I haven’t made in almost 5 years. Oddly enough, it was the dinner I made the night my hubby fell ill a few years back, and I remember watching him moaning on the coach holding his chest and thinking my lasagna was the cause. Since then, the meal has literally no appeal around here. But this week Fall blew in and with it came God’s grace saying it was time to boil the noodles and stop holding it against lasagna and The Pioneer Woman (it was her recipe). It sounds funny, I know. But being ripped apart thru illness and hard circumstances sticks with you in ways you wouldn’t have thought.

There I was tearing apart my kitchen, slinging pasta and sauce, and my daughter and son came running in telling me I HAD TO SEE THIS. I grumbled as they pulled me away from the kitchen, but I nearly lost my breath when I saw what all the fuss was about.

THIS turned out to be a jaw dropping sunset snuck in between the bitter fall wind and a field of gold. It makes me tear up knowing that my kids know this about me. They know my crazy, and they can’t help but take part. They’re in the car with me as God’s glory comes to life on our drive to school and everywhere in between. They roll their eyes and make fun of me, but I don’t mind. Annoying them brings me secret joy. JOY, you guys. And joy comes again and again too, each time they snap a sunset on a grandparent’s phone and text it to me or come running to tell me of the random glory they’ve found in a leaf or cloud or feather.

So it came as no surprise as I dropped all things pasta, stuffed my feet in my son’s poop boots (we have a chicken coup, ew), grabbed my camera and chased the color down County Line Road. I was a sight — but you guys, SO WAS THE SKY.

And as I said, we go deeper together. We grasp the lengths and depths together dear ones. In steps community as we link arms and name Him in this world. It’s contagious. Just like with my kids. They see me naming Him, and they feel permission to do the same. And then somehow, in the middle of the mess, we see a little more of this God of ours. We experience a bit of that fullness rising in our chests, reminding us whose we are and why we’re here. It’s gives us perspective as we glorify God. We become smaller, and our troubles do too.

Today it’s me linking arms with you via a wonky lasagna and a corn sunset that screams COME LORD JESUS. And not because life is hard. And it is, IT IS. I know this more than anyone. But because He loves us in ways we cannot even begin to comprehend. Come Lord Jesus because we were made for YOU.

I may be in my pajamas and wielding a camera while standing in the freezing cold corn, but I’m here to call God out in my little corner of the world. I see Him in nature, in creation and I can’t help but snap shots and log the beauty. The pictures aren’t the beauty I hunger for either. They help tell the story, but it’s the God behind them that steals the show. The God I see in the every day. The one smiling at us thru sunsets and weeds and random birds.

I’m not sure where life finds you today. But I know God went to great lengths to show His love to this world. You may not have a photo taking obsession or corn framing your view like I do, but you have a sky of blue above and a sunset of colors that never fails to make an appearance. It stretches the expanse of life and brings a sense of peace to our souls, no matter where we land.

That’s what blue does, by the way. It’s been studied by smart people. Look it up for yourself if you don’t trust the crazy pajama pasta lady. But BLUE CALMS. It affects our minds. It affects our bodies. It brings a sense of calm and clarity to our senses. Maybe it’s just a tidbit compared to the realities we face. But still, there it is. It’s what God designed to ice the cake of every dang day. And He loves us so specifically, so graciously, that He’s blanketed us in this blue sky soul balm every day.

Mind blown.

OH HOW HE LOVES US. Head over to you tube and sing with me…