My little glass house

glass house

 

It hit me so hard I nearly fell on my face.  The harsh reality that I didn’t truly trust Him was a force that left me gasping.  I was torn wide open and the bleeding wouldn’t stop.

Oh, I say all the good Christian things a good Christian girl says.  And I’d almost convinced myself that my heart believed the words.  But two ER visits in the same day with our not-quite-two-year-old had left me nearly undone.  I felt a little like Abraham that night only rather that willingly handing it over, I clutched all that was “mine”  and ran for my life.  He couldn’t have my baby and that was final.  Surely He knew I could never bear it.  And so I ran and ran and ran.  Only I was running from an imaginary threat because though I was a mother in the throes of panicked exhaustion, my little man was never in serious danger of losing his life.

But my knee-jerk reaction of fear and the absolute refusal to rest in His will has caused me to re-evaluate.  I’m not liking what I see.  That night I was unwilling to surrender my precious child, which is normal enough, but I knew in the deepest places of my soul that He had to come first.  That is was possible to make a god of even a child.  And so I asked Him to show me what else I was holding back.

The raw, real answer isn’t pretty.  Because he showed me everything.  Everything is what I’ve been refusing to give him.  I’ve stuffed it all down in a bag and cinched the top shut tight.  On occasion I may take something out and hand it over for awhile.  But if He doesn’t use it “right” or if it looks like it might get “broken” I snatch it back and stuff it safely in the bag.  I say I love Him and I try to trust Him but I have limits.  And they don’t extend far.

I’ve bought into the world’s standard to a far greater degree than I’m comfortable admitting.  The standard that says a nice house, car and salary are signs of success and the absence of any or all of the above are a sign of failure.  And so I’ve spent three decades building my world. It’s filled with little gods and big gods and they’re all squeezing out the one true God.

I’m comfortable though I squirm when the groceries run low.  I’m secure though I panic when the bills are too high.  I’m right where I want to be until I’m bored and want to be somewhere else.  And then I think I deserve or have earned that chance to escape.  You do it, too, if you’ll only admit it.

We erect plastic gods and worship at the altar of abundance.  We say we want to be used but only if it doesn’t require too much or shake up our lives or throw off our routines.  We want it all and we want it now and we want it exactly the way we envision it.  We aren’t sold out for Christ.  We barely manage to rent out a small space of our free-will to serve Him in the scary places.

We value the opinions of others with far more passion than the opinion of God.  And we cherish the breath of life more than eternal life.  It’s crazy.  Backwards, mixed-up, stupid-crazy.

I’m tired of acting like it matters what color my walls are when there are children peppering this planet without the shelter of walls at all.  I’m tired of chasing after financial security rather than trusting that what He provides really is enough.  I’m exhausted from climbing ladders and erecting walls that keep the Lord safely at arm’s distance.  Comfortable feels so good yet oddly suffocating at the same time and it’s because it’s not often where He wants us to be.  Comfortable is more a place to visit for a brief rest than one in which we should seek residency.

Yet we all run there and start throwing up the walls that define this place as home.  We settle in and plan to stay, barely remembering we’re just passing through.  We make big deal about the accommodations while we’re here and we begin to think we need bigger and better and more.

But He wants us to live with the kind of reckless abandon that has people thinking we’re a little out there. He wants us to live a life of absolute surrender in the face of complete uncertainty.

But what does that look like practically?  Does it mean we have to sell everything we own and move to a country without running water and live on a dirt floor?  For some of us, yes.  For others of us it simply means we toss all those plastic gods in a great heap, set fire to them and then let Him fill the empty spaces with what He chooses.

For me, I can already feel Him moving.  Speaking.  I hear Him asking me for things I’ve been clutching tightly and reminding me they were never really mine to begin with.  He’s asking me to go.  To move right here where I am and I cringe because living without reserve for Him right here is scary.  And I almost think it would be easier to be the one called to that far off country of dirt floors.  But if I’m giving Him me it means I no longer call the shots and I don’t get to choose where He sends me.

He’s given me a heart for special needs adoption and I’m drawn to the neediest of the needy.  The kids who aren’t pretty or lovely or healthy or loved.  The ones that are most unlikely to ever find home this side of heaven.  It’s crazy and expensive and would turn my world on its ear.  My husband agrees though we can’t get approved until God moves.  But when He does, we’re going in!

I want kids who are so sold out for Christ that they cannot be bought by the world at any price.  I want them to love freely and without shame.  I want them to see Jesus and run toward Him rather than away.  I want them to be willing to literally lay down their lives if that’s what He asks for.  I want them to go where He calls without worrying that I might selfishly hold them back.

But if all we ever do is sit around playing house how will they ever learn to serve with everything they have rather than just in neat, tidy ways that fit nicely around the empire of their lives?

I feel my little glass house beginning to shake.  I secretly long for it to just shatter.  I want to be sold out, too, and free to follow where He leads.  I want to toss aside the shackles of fear and bondage of public opinion and  live as though each moment is the big one.  I want to stop acting like the dumb stuff matters and to exchange “normal” for the uncertain and unexpected.

I want to bleed for God and His people.  I can no longer stand not to be living the life He planned for me while I seek out the life I’ve planned for myself.  From this day forth, I am His.  With abandon and without reserve.  May God in His abundant mercy hold me fast to that promise!

How about you?  Are you ready?

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 Linked up with Growing Home, Deep Roots at Home, Raising Mighty Arrows, A Mama’s Story, What Joy is Mine, Graced SimplicityA Wise Woman Builds her Home

 

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Comments

  1. Thank you for this.

  2. I just want you to know that even though you were nervous about posting this, it is exactly what so many people need to hear (me included!) whether they will admit it or not! Beautiful words Kasey and beautifully written. Thank you!
    Jenna recently posted…I’m “That Mom”My Profile

    • Thank you, Jenna! I spend so much time afraid of being misunderstood that I so often pass over the opportunities to share what He’s asking me to. Thank you for the encouragement to share anyway! You are a blessing!
      Kasey recently posted…My little glass houseMy Profile

  3. Shannon McCoy says:

    Beautifully written and I must share! This is so how I feel its like you got in my head personally! Thank you!!!

  4. Oh Kasey, what a great post! I am still soaking in your words because they have cut deep in my heart.
    Jen @ A Heart For My Home recently posted…Throw Back Thursday – DIY Blue Jar Soap DispenserMy Profile

  5. Wonderful, heart-felt post! Be ready for the naysayers…as I’m sure you already are. Those who question what the Holy Spirit is nudging you to do…because they don’t understand or perhaps they haven’t heard the call. Continue to be strong and speak from the heart.

    • Thank you, Kelly! And you are exactly right…it is so easy to be misunderstood when you follow a call that runs off the beaten path. Thanks for your encouragement to stay strong in Christ!
      Kasey recently posted…My little glass houseMy Profile

  6. Mandy Joseph says:

    Hi Kasey,
    I love the way you write. I love your heart! These things I start to ponder and it scares me and so I stop…stall…wait. ..not sure for what. Anyways, this is a great kick in the heart for me..thanks :)

  7. “We erect plastic gods and worship at the altar of abundance” — Ouch! Guilty.
    Your post is beautifully written, and heartfelt, and speaks volumes. Thank your for sharing with us, Kasey :)

    “I want kids who are so sold out for Christ that they cannot be bought by the world at any price.” Am I doing/being all I should for this to happen? Does it even depend on me? I hear this question in some form or fashion from many moms who feel the world is a greater influencer than parents, or even the church.

    I believe this is going to be an ongoing discussion.
    hsmominmo recently posted…The Hidden Art of Homemaking – Chapter 9My Profile

  8. This is hard-hitting. Yet it’s something I’ve felt the Lord tugging at my heart about recently…it’s new territory, and it’s scary.

  9. Kasey, you and I are more alike than I realized. God has been challenging me in the same areas for the last, oh I don’t know how many years. This past week, during my mission trip to Guatemala, He showed Himself to me – His faithfulness and His grace – in such obvious ways. I feel like I have no other option than to trust him with all. I can completely relate to your post. Especially this part:
    “I’m comfortable though I squirm when the groceries run low. I’m secure though I panic when the bills are too high. I’m right where I want to be until I’m bored and want to be somewhere else. And then I think I deserve or have earned that chance to escape. You do it, too, if you’ll only admit it.”
    I can’t count the number of times I’ve told God that I am done with what is happening in our lives and I truly can’t take anymore. Then, of course, as you know, He allows something else to happen, and I learn that with Him I CAN do all things. Thank you for sharing your heart. I really appreciate reading your thoughts and please know that your daily struggles to encourage me with my own.
    Samantha McDonald recently posted…“So, How Was Your Trip?”My Profile

  10. Wow, Kasey! I love this :) What a challenging and convicting post. You have a way of putting thoughts into words that ignite passion in those who read them. With my husband being a Pastor – I am used to going without, not expecting to ever be “successful” by the world’s standard – and yet I have still fallen into the trap of wanting more and thinking I deserve it. You have given much to think and pray about!
    Emily recently posted…God Changed My Mind About ModestyMy Profile

  11. I am wishing this was Facebook and I could just click “LIKE” rather than have to actually comment. But you are the second person today (first a friend who knows me and now you, who has no clue who I am, nor I you) who God used to hold up a mirror to my own face–my own life–and remind me who I am when I am not living detached and unfeeling as I have been this past while. Reminding me who I want to be when I’m not living in avoidance and escape and fear. My stone-hard heart needed a tap from a chisel just like your words. So….thank you for allowing God to use you.

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  1. [...] particular post I’m highlighting today is entitled, “My Little Glass House”. It’s an authentic, candid, and heart-revealing narrative from a Mom who was faced with the [...]

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