Redemption’s Kiss (Thoughts from a 747)

Last year it felt like twenty-five percent of my life was lived en route, and I’m realizing I prefer it that way. In this season of preparation before my life becomes semi-nomadic once more, I’m learning how deeply freedom is a necessity if these lungs are to function properly. As the plane accelerates and my ears pop; as the wind tosses me as in a cradle and the home I’ve known shrinks below me, clouds break to reveal blues and greens of the sea. Here, above the bubble of life, somewhere in between¬†lands, is where I am most content. Ink flowing from my fingers, surrounded solely by strangers; here I can commune more readily with the Lord and think most clearly.¬†The light is blinding, the air deafening, and all is at peace. The clouds that are white now turn pink in the horizon. With the ocean spread out before me, the world suddenly feels audaciously large, and I, microscopically small. The burden of earth’s battle below seems suddenly lighter in view of creation’s vastness.

Still, we are children of war. Whether born in the trenches, the barracks, or the home-front, we have all experienced this spiritual reality. Be it through cutting chains or the gore of pillaging fire, we know what it is like to feel a captive of the enemy. Perhaps you are still there, fighting to be free but feeling your feet can’t escape the shackles.

Darling, what is your straight-jacket? Where do your ashes lie? Please, would you let Him free you? From the heights of communion with our Creator, we are taught to see beyond the struggle into the glory He’s woven. With a single word, He can and will steal you away to the place of heavenly peace. Held in His arms, the arms untouchable by the enemy, we are carried back to the secret skies above the smoke of battle where eternal truth once again reigns.

And as the clouds break, redemption’s kiss finds you safe and secure in the Victor’s embrace.

Sunrise Hymn

What would Van Gogh’s Starry Night have been without the reality of a milky way behind it? Would there be any beauty, or just lines on a page? This past Sunday I shot a wedding that was the most poetic in its tradition I’ve experienced, yet it remained drenched in a tragic state of emptiness. In the midst of the loveliest symbolism, no one had any idea of the truth they were representing. It was enough to break any heart that knew the meaning behind the movements, while filling the same with hope.

From the singing and dancing as the groom came to receive his bride, to the blowing of the shofar midway through the ceremony, to the flowers transforming the temple to a paradise, one could not help but be reminded of Christ’s return. It was the truth behind the artistry. Yet, besides my boss and myself, all eyes were vehemently shut, preferring the Cave to a sunrise hymn.

And in the midst of these ramblings thoughts, I feel a swelling wave. Yes, He is coming soon, but first there is another change about to happen, one I only vaguely sense, something I can’t quite put my finger on. The tide is being sucked out from around me, and I, as sand, am being drawn along with it. As with any lovely disaster, pain is imminent, but with the flood I know overwhelming joy is coming. Last year’s rainstorm of changes was almost only confusing and gut-wrenching, and it seems now not just I, but this community as a whole lay on the brink of another whirlwind season. However in the midst of this one we are all continually being assured of the peace-laden excitement it will bring.

With singing and dancing, our Bridegroom is coming for us. He is on the way, I feel it in my bones. The path is simply being paved now, a glorious battle for eternity being waged. So I suppose this is my celebration, my battle cry for a war already won.

Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later on you will understand.”
~John 13:7~