First Love Part 1

I thought that He was dead.

See, it had just been so long since I had heard from Him. Months. Years, even, but I have forgotten now what the former days were like. Some memories shine brighter than others, but the ones that glow with truth are the ones with Him.

Running together in the field. Laughing until tears rolled down our cheeks and we couldn't breathe. Singing songs of love, first me to Him, and then Him to me. Sitting by the fire in the dead of night.

But those things had faded along the way, somehow, and I was left only with a shadow of Him. He didn't say He was going away, I just woke up one morning and He wasn't there.

And that was the day Fear came to live here instead.

Fear was a bitter friend. I tried everything I knew how to make him leave. I tried shouting at him, cursing him, pleading for my life, but he would not leave, and I conceded that perhaps he was meant to live with me for a reason, to grow my desire for my Love, perhaps. But instead, my desire began to wither and my heart began to forget what Love looked and felt like.

I wrote to my Love. I pleaded with Him to come back, to tell me where He had gone and why He had left me. I wondered if my love had been too weak to make Him stay. I wondered what I had done to make Him go. He was all I could think about, but He seemed distant, a memory that became more foggy as the days passed.

People would come to my house and ask me why I didn't just tell Fear to go, if I didn't like him so much. They said that maybe it was a blessing in disguise, being able to live with someone instead of being alone. I told myself I would rather be alone, would rather die than live one more day like this.

Sometimes people were kind, and would bring me letters from my Love. They did not tell me anything about where He had gone or why He had left. They just handed them to me with tears in their eyes, as if they had seen Him.

All He spoke of in the letters was our love. I would weep as I read them, as my heart was torn with longing for Him, and would keep them in a box above my fireplace. He only said He loved me so much He couldn't take it. He said He longed for me like all the longing of all the lovers in all of history combined. He said that He couldn't wait for the next time we could be together, that He could hold me in His arms.

The days turned into months. I had forgotten that He was good, the highest form of beauty.

The months turned into years. I had forgotten He was alive. He had become a shadow of the past in my head, a fantasy, they said. They said He wasn't coming back, that He had more important things to do.

One day Fear hit me, a crisp blow that left a clear bruise on the skin just beneath my collarbone. Carefully concealed from all eyes. Just where my heart rested beneath my ribs.

I left that morning. I walked out the front door with the coffee pot boiling on the stove and the fire in the fireplace. I didn't even bring my jacket. Anything was better than this. Death was better.

I knew I would die in the wilderness. I knew that I would. But I would die a worse death without love.

And I started walking.

A voice flickered like candlelight across the face of a the waters in my mind. Come and find me, it said.

I dismissed it and kept walking.

Messages to Mr. Brian Stoltzfus (A memoir by Jim Reams)

Hurry! Make haste!
Dust the mats! Sweep the floor!
Put on the kettle on for tea!
The Golden Man is coming!
Did you not see Him walking down the road?
Flowers sprung into blossom as He passed by,
And all darkness fled before His face.
And I knew.
I knew He was coming here,
To this place.

I had only time to arrange the chairs, and put on a good shirt, and there He was.
We sat together, He and I.
He did not speak with words. He did not need to. One glance into His eyes, into His shining countenance which was like deep well of golden light, and I knew all things.
I found myself stammering and babbling like a child, but He did not seem to mind. I wept, and knelt at His feet, and touched them. It did not feel strange to me. It felt like home.
There were deep scars, but they were pink, like roses, and beautiful, like new life. And The Golden Man, Jesus, laid His hand on my head. I wad broken, re-made all in an instant.
Then He was gone. Yet His peace still lingers. But He is coming your way! Be ready! You can see Him from a long, long way. A great host of swallows, and butterflies is following Him.
And music! Yes.
The whole earth had broken into song.

«««»»»

Did He come? Did you speak to Him?
I feel sure He will visit you soon. Listen for the quiet knock on your door. Leave your front gate open.

«««»»»

It's all coming back to me now. I was in a state of shock there for a while. Blundering blindly into bliss, you might say. Ha ha!
But it was Him, alright.
The same Jesus I met when I was a young man, except even more glorious.
But I had forgotten His face. I had forgotten what His Presence felt like. I had forgotten that He is holy.
Seriously though, Stoltzfus, I was expecting the Grim Reaper. I have not been feeling very permanent lately. Stomach problems. Fatigue. I was scared.

But instead, here comes the Golden Man, strolling into our driveway. When He touched me, I was healed of many things.
I mean, I think so. He certainly has the power. It's just that now, death and sickness don't really matter. Being with Him is what matters.

«««»»»

Sorry, Brian, I know I'm babbling, but there's more to it.
I had let the world beat me down until I lost hope. I was ashamed of Christ.
Not because He is not true, but because I was not true. I listened to the song of the world, and believed that I was useless. I once set out to change the world, to make it a better place, but the world had fangs. It had destroyed me.

«««»»»

Sorry to keep rambling on, but here's the thing, Stoltzfus: He did speak, came to think of it. You may think I am crazy, insane; but if so, then I much prefer this insanity to the cold logic of the world.

But as I knelt, and touched His feet, He said,
"Satan has desired to sift thee like wheat, but I prayed for thee..."

That really got to me! Sift me? The evil one had kicked my ass up and down the block! But He prayed for me? The very Son of God prayed for me?!

«««»»»

But He was really here! Just come over some time and sit in that chair, and we can have coffee, or beer. He was sitting in that lawn chair you sold me, the one with the yellow cushion. You can still feel Him if you sit there. Peace from the Golden Man.

«««»»»

What, Brian?
No, He wasn't really golden, like the statue of the Golden Logger on the capitol building. That is just the impression left on the mind. You know how scientists say that you don't really see things as they are, but you only see the various light waves reflecting off of them?
So then you say that the grass is green and sky is blue. I guess that's how it works with Him. The writers of the bible were always using words like golden, crystal, adamant. Now I see why.

«««»»»

Yes. Of course everyone is saying I'm crazy. I've gone off of the deep end. Well, they are mistaken. The only time I have ever been of sound mind is when I walked with Jesus.
And I'm not afraid of them anymore. He took away my fear. I want to sit at His feet again, soon.

«««»»»

I respect your opinion, of course Stolzfus, but the Truth is the Truth. I'm through with denying Him. I still suggest that you leave your gate open in case He knocks on your door.

«««»»»

Well, I had also forgotten the message that God gave me to sing in my youth. Jesus Christ is coming back! He will judge all things in righteousness. Just keep this in mind, Brian:
If the love of God is so deep and powerful, and amazing, what must His wrath be like?
Anyway, He's the only reason I'm writing you. I haven't written in months. Come to think of it, Stoltzfus, the only reason I ever did anything creative was because of Jesus Christ.

«««»»»

If you really think I'm insane, why do you keep writing back to me? Not that I mind. Yes. I waited for Him every day for a week, but did not see Him, until I was driving to town. He was walking along the highway. A rainbow halo followed Him.
I could not believe that the Golden Man, Christ, the Son of God would condescend to ride in my dirty old Jeep. But He did. I was afraid to look at Him; but for the first time in years, I actually enjoyed driving!

Yes. I didn't care how many cars were rudely tailgating me. I didn't care that I was out of place in this world. I sat up a little straighter in the Jeep seat.

He was with me.
He had always been with me.

Sincerely, Your Single Friend

Dear dating/engaged/married friend,

I am writing you this letter to tell you a little of what my heart is feeling about the time of life that we're in...er... rather, the time if life that you're in. Please have patience with me, this isn't easy to open up about. The heart is  so tender, and mine is just adjusting to the changes that have happened lately.

Last weekend I saw one of my oldest friends walk down the aisle and pledge her love and life to the man who she will share her forever with. She was radiant, brilliant in beauty and grace. I cried (because, of COURSE it was the most moving thing to see one of my dearest friends blossom into a woman). I danced. I celebrated. I thought about all our history together. The late nights talking about our futures, the tears of broken hearts, the laughter of discovering love. And now, there I was, watching it all unfold before my very eyes... the future.

And then this morning it hit me.

All of my friends are in relationships.

I can see my mother roll her eyes and say, "Don't exaggerate, honey, not all your friends."

...Yep, pretty much every single one.

Don't worry, this isn't an embarrassing rant about being single. Because, see, I'm not really so focused on that particular aspect of this stage of life.

This is a revelation that time truly is changing for me...for both of us.

See, I'm not worried so much that I'll miss out on having a relationship. What actually puts fear in me is watching those I have grown closest to in my life move on, and not be able to understand them anymore. My fear is watching you fall in love, get married, have babies, become a wife and mother, and not be able to relate to you anymore. To grow distant not by choice, but just from life. To not be able to talk about the things we used to chatter on about all day. To not be able to offer help or advice because I just plain don't know. To feel distant. To feel different. To feel like I'm not needed anymore.

It's not a man in my life I miss, you see. It's the days when I knew I was needed by my friends. When I knew we would always relate because I knew we'd always be in the same stage of life at the same time. To feel like comrades in the thick of battle, not like an outsider standing in the sidelines while everyone else gets to play the game.

So be patient with me, my dear friend.  I know my time will come, but The times, they're a changing, and my little heart just needs some time to catch up.

Sincerely,
Your single friend.

To All The Dreamers and The Old Souls...

Some days, memories linger on the edge of my consciousness. Some are sweet like honey as they fall into my mind, and some leave a bitter taste in my mouth. Some that resurrect feelings of hope, and some that cause me to clench my fists in desperation. Some are from my past, pulling me back to a time that I would have forgotten if it weren't for the memories that are so real I can still see them now. Some are from my future, calling me forward to a time that I have never seen but somehow hunger for. Either way, I am surrounded by memories on all sides.

We all live in the present, or so we're told. We are told that this moment now, that we experience, is what is true, is what is real. We know that it is the year of 2016, that it's April now, because the lilacs bloom and the Oregon natives can finally be seen wearing their shorts.

But I must admit it... The present is not always where I am living. Sometimes, I am more present in my past or my future than in the moment I am in, the moment that is the most important. I often spend my days reveling in what was or dreaming about what's to come than I do looking at the person in front of me and really seeing them and hearing them. I know that my past has the ability to shape me, and my future has the ability to lead me, but I give them so much power over right now.

I yearn for the grace and strength to be able to live here. To be able to love fully, not remember love as it was before or as it will be. I know Love Himself calls to us from the past or future, but most of all from the beautiful and perfect Present. I have a deep-down feeling that if a generation of people can start to cultivate this type of resting into their days, than everything will change. I think real Love dwells in the Present, and that, after all, is what we are all searching for.

I love memories. They are gifts. They are truly a wonder to be able to experience. And dreaming? That's one of the greatest gifts I have ever known. But I must give this moment it's proper place. First.

To all my dreamers who love to dream,
And to my old souls who love to remember,
Know that you are free.

Love, 
B

The Month of Dreams

November is the month of dreams.

I would never have guessed that before.

The past five months have been anything but full of dreams. The fight I've warred has been the most terrifying of my whole life. There were moments so dark I thought I was going mad. I felt attacked in the innermost part of who I am... my identity as a daughter of the Most High. All the knowledge of the authority I had in Christ seemed to be forgotten. I felt like a victim of something I couldn't control. I knew that God always spoke life over me, but most of the time, all I heard was death.

Death over my dreams.

I guess the month of November is like that. Everything is dying, going to sleep. The last of the leaves fall from the trees, and with them a sadness falls over the land as the color of life fades to gray. Dreams of anything green or growing seem so distant... Impossible, even.

What can I say, God? That I need you to be more than I thought You could be. I feel weak and full of fear. But Your love... it is more than anything I ever thought about You. I have nothing to give You... nothing beautiful about me that would draw You to me. But still, I feel Your love for me. And it's all I've ever wanted. I need to know that they desires that once burned in my heart for You aren't gone forever! I need to know that freedom is not a figment of my imagination. I need to know that dreams can live again.

Some of you have experienced times like this, when dreams aren't anywhere to be found, and some of you haven't. In either case, there's something you need to know.

Your dreams will live again.

They might come back looking different than you had originally planned them. Your heart may have to let go of some things you never wanted to let die. Your heart may end up wanting things you never knew existed before. You might have to be courageous and sacrifice things you've been trying to hold onto.

November may not look like the month of dreams. But in the middle of the dying colors and the grayness comes a new hope that is steady and unchanging. Let Him redefine the things you hold in Your heart. Let Him kill the things that don't belong so that what is lasting can remain. We only have one life. Let us not waste it on what others would have us do. Let us pour it out as a sacrifice at the feet of the only One who deserves it.

I promise it's worth it.

--


"Here you are, my darling," God says.
A dandelion, pure and catching.
She kisses a breath to cast the truth
and it blankets over thirsty bones
and awakens the fallen warriors that forgot their Father.
"Here you are, my darling.
Know who you're fighting for."
She is not alone.

The warriors roll up from the valley
with fists of flowers to kiss.
Together they remembered.
The Lord has spoken.

-Stephanie Stuckey

The Weapon of Thankfulness

It's late. Everyone has gone to bed except dear Jenny, who's in the kitchen making homemade chicken soup. The night is cold. My Christmas lights shine dimly on my wall and memories float around my mind like little orbs of light. They are all good ones.

I am so thankful for this life. For the people I am privileged to spend my days with. For a family that loves and understands me no matter what. For friends that blew past my expectation of what friends could be. For a Love that doesn't fail me, no matter what. Even the memories that used to be bitter in my mouth, the Lover has turned them sweet. It's as if all has been redeemed. I suppose it has...

It's been a very dark season these past few months. I would argue the most dark I have ever had. Sometimes darkness grabs us by the throat and tells us we do not have a voice. The Enemy comes to steal our destiny, kill us, and destroy our identity. He did not play kind. He never does.

In those moments, I felt nothing but despair. But something has begun to rise in my heart, something so much bigger than circumstance. It's thankfulness. Not for anything I have or have done, but for someone who is everything to me, who has given me treasure that no one can see. My Jesus... He is so different than I thought Him to be before. He is much more powerful, much more kind, much more full of love than I could fathom. He is past all that I can understand, and that is what is so beautiful about Him, because no matter how deep I go into who He is, I know that He is undeniably, infinitely good. He is the definition of light and love and beauty. And He loves me! How can that be? 

No matter where I go or what I do, He is always faithful. His heart holds treasures that I cannot even imagine. He is the Truth even when I cannot see it. Just to have Him close, to know Him near, to share in friendship and so much more with the One who died for me... nothing could ever mean more.

Thankfulness is more than a word we use once a year in November. It's more than a list you recite. It's an attitude of the heart. It's a sharp, fiery sword that cuts through depression and disease and darkness. It's a balm that covers your wounded heart and begins to heal. It's the substance of grace. It comes from the heart of Jesus.

Ask Him who He is today. Ask Him to give you a heart that can see what you have been given. And ask Him to show you His love. He will, every time. 

All my love,

B

Rooibos Tea

Today I woke up with dreams in my eyes and an adventure in my bones. The morning was crisp and clear and splashes of orange were on the ground as the leaves finally started to fall and die. There was fog on the road as I drove out to my parents house. The puppy, wriggling with excitement, greeted me at the door. I read George MacDonald with Dad by the fire and we both commented how rich the words came. The smell of wet earth, decaying leaves and blue sky hit my nose and it was as if I was a child again, running free against the cold and effortlessly sweeping life along with her passion. Fall was here. My heart felt like it was spring.

I home to find a box of Rooibos tea sitting on the counter. I stood there for a moment and stared at it. I knew that Sara must have seen it at the store and bought it, due to my incessant rambling about how much I adored it. I eagerly ripped open a package and smelled the teabag. Tears welled up in my eyes as memories flooded back.

Mornings at the apartment on Rose Bay, talking horses and country living and Jesus with Carla.

Late nights songwriting on the back patio at the Lane Cove house, Tyson curled up by my side.

Winter rainstorms at Grandmas, rationing the precious tea so that I could have just one more cup to remember...

As I curl up here with my steaming cup of red tea, I realize that it's been a long year. But the taste makes me remember that not all days have to rush. They can just be. And He knows what my heart longs for. It is in quiet moments like these that He whispers, "I have not forgotten." He still knows what makes me come alive. He always will.