change and unchanging.

The moon is huge tonight. Lights twinkle in the distance, a dog barking, car engines coming and going, these the background song to the words. This night is still, quiet and sleepy in a way only very full days can be.

Boxes are being packed, one life is ending, left behind in mountains that rise up to touch the face of their Maker. Another life is beginning where the horizon bends down to kiss the water below. Change. It seems to be the only consistent thing in this life. With each item I put away, with every moment that slips through the hour glass, I feel it coming. Though I am not leaving this place that has captured my heart, those who have always been here with me are, and so though I am not the one going, it would seem that my life is tied in and drastically affected by the change wrought in those around me.

I have never really been afraid of having life change. It has conditioned me from a young age to expect that this will happen often. Some changes have been wonderful, some not, but always the tide ebbs out, taking what would seem constant and shifting it even in the slightest of ways. I love that about this sweet and uncertain life, the knowing that things are bound to be different eventually, that even the waiting does not last forever, and that though it may take a bit, things will change. Doesn't always make it easier, but it definitely helps:) I have known what it is to have things shift suddenly, with no warning, just wham. I have felt what it is to have pain engulf me, jerking me up and spinning me around, then sitting me back down to see what it has wrought. I have known joy with no warning as well, having the most wonderful moments catch me by surprise, lifting me up to dance, then sitting me back down to watch the smile spread across my heart. I have known both and I have learned from each in their own way, the depth of my Father's heart.

There have been times, especially in the last few months, when knowing that something had to change eventually is what kept me smiling. Yet, despite knowing that it will all be different, not fearing it comes from knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that, though everything around me may ebb and flow like the sea, my soul is not cast about by this, but held tight and secure by the hand of a God whose love is never ending, boundless, unchanging, and faithful. He is unchanging. And my heart is His, secure in the knowledge that even if things do not turn out the way I want, He is in control and nothing can shake the confidence found in Him. Which is awesome.

And wow, it's amazing to know that if we are His, our lives can go absolutely crazy around us and yet in the midst of the storm, in His arms, there is security and peace and this amazing crazy love that just can't be understood, but which we feel with every fiber of our being! And this is unchanging. He is unchanging. Man, I'm so thankful for that. I am so thankful to know that I can trust Him with everything. All the changes and craziness and life in all its wild sweetness, it's all His anyway, and beyond all I know or can see, I know who holds my heart and on this rock is where my soul is built.

His.

It's the quiet Voice on the wind, softly speaking, gently asking, never pushing...beckoning. The stillness all around is deep and boundless and heavy. Yet, it is here, in this place, that His voice echoes through. And the caverns of my heart with all its twisting corridors and corners, echo back with the answer that my soul would cry. Would I give up what I want most to have more of Him? My flesh cries out with every fiber which makes it up, "NO! No, no, no, no....I want what I want!!!" 

His voice presses, deep calling unto deep, calling out that which my flesh does not want, crying out to the spirit He has placed inside the heart of His child.

Here the echo grows loudest, echoing back to the Spirit of the Living God, "YES! Father, I would have more of You. At any  cost, I would give back to you all I desire most."

The words are hard. Truth is hard. To choose that which fights against our flesh is....war. And the battle rages...and I am tired. This bone weary, when will I have answers, haven't I asked long enough tiredness, it aches and yearns and wears until all would be worn down to being thread bare. And yet, when His voice calls, when it calls forth strength and courage and the knowledge that, no matter how the story ends in this life, I know the true ending beyond all I can see...when this happens, a strength courses through the heart that beats with the Voice of the One who gives life and hope and joy unimaginable. It is here, in this place, when the battle rages most fierce, when all I want fades dim, it is here that I see so clearly the eyes of the One who gave everything, and it is here that the love He bears is felt far deeper than when I am in the shallows and not being asked to give back desires placed on my heart.

But, ouch. Because loosening the iron grasp of what we hold close hurts. Standing with hands open and heart surrendered, the pain courses along with the joy, because giving back hurts, but the joy in knowing that though I cannot see the outcome I do know He works all things for the good of those who love Him, this joy far outweighs the pain felt.

And His grace is sufficient. It goes beyond all I am, all we are, surpassing all I can see or feel or know, filling up the cracks and grooves of lives surrendered to Him, until they overflow with the goodness that only He gives. For He is faithful. Always. Forever. End of story.

The river flows fast, the sky dark and beautiful. And peace, like the river that sings outside my door fills the air and all I am. For, though I do not know what the future holds, I know I am His child and this is and always will be more than enough.

In the dark and quiet of this night, that same voice echoes...calling unto your heart. For you are His child and He is pursuing all you are with every fiber of His being. In the stillness, deep calls unto deep, and your Father's love would envelop and surround you. Pursue His heart. For you are loved by the One who created the very air you breathe, and He is for you, beyond all you can see or feel or know.

if rivers spoke.

The words won't come. And all I would say, all that pushes and pulls, bends and twists, begging to come out, simply won't. Thoughts dance, my heart keeping time to the rhythm...a slow steady lilt, harmonizing to the rushing river outside my door.

What would he say if he could talk, this mighty rushing body of water? What would I ask, if I knew his voice would echo back, deep and clear and true. Would the stories bubble from his tongue, stories of days past, of ages and times, men and women, and the dance of life witnessed as his waters rushed on? Or perhaps his voice would speak of the One who created the crevice and filled it with water that rushes through and into every moment of every beating heart's life. There it is, the song of a God, the voice of the One who thought of the very place to lay the waters, held together by banks of emerald green, sprinkled with the bright, shining colors of laughing little flowers. His song, the river's song, written by He who would give so much more abundantly than I could ever imagine to His child. 

I would sit and talk with this river if I could. And we would speak of much, if rivers spoke. Of things deep and rushing and true. He would tell me how, like his waters, the love of the One who made Him rushes all about His children, at times like a flood, lifting like a stone the children He so loves. And there I have found myself, carried deep, pushed down and beaten, worn and smoothed through this great rushing love, until the edges of a soul jagged are worn smooth, reflecting the gaze of a Savior who loves more deeply, more true, more clear and sweet than any rushing river on the earth. This river and I, we would talk of how pain, it teaches and molds and smoothes out like no other teacher can, of how, when held in the Creator's hands, all that once could never be, now is. For like five small stones chosen by one small shepherd boy, when we are smoothed out in His hands, we can be slung forth with perfect aim to bring down giants and bring glory to His name. 

And we would laugh too, for rivers hold such joy in the depths of their waters. Here I see the deep and abiding joy of a God who laughs bigger and carries joy unimaginable, joy overflowing in every ounce of His being. This river would tell me of a joy that flows through a soul given to its God, until even in pain there is still the joy of being a child of the Living God. For rivers know that beyond the wearing and smoothing and pain and hurt, when you have reached the end and flow into the sea, it is here, when we are pressed beyond ourselves, swallowed up in all He is, that we are held most close to the heart of He who loves beyond all knowing. It is here I would stay. In the deep. In the midst of a love I cannot explain, to gaze forever into the eyes of the One who holds my heart in His hands. 

Yes, this is what we would speak of, if rivers spoke.