the striped throne

The pastor of Atlanta Westside opened the Sunday morning service this week with a prayer that has played through my mind over and over in the days since.

He prayed, "Heavenly Father, we come before Your throne as children running to their father's lap as he sits in his easy chair."

You see, Daddy used to sit in a blue and white striped chair. I suppose it might be classified as a recliner, but it came with a matching ottoman that gets pulled around the living room to this day. Though the chair has been recovered in a light yellow to match the French redecoration that overwhelmed the main floor, and though it now sits in a corner watching its lesser half monopolize utility, that chair is special.

On any given evening during my early childhood, you would be hard-pressed to find me anywhere other than in that chair next to Daddy. We ate popcorn and watched Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy almost every night.

The thought never crossed my mind that that chair was designed for only one person. I cannot recall a single moment's hesitation to climb up in that chair, wedge myself comfortably (for me at least, though I'm sure Daddy took an elbow to the ribs on more than one occasion) between the armrest and my big, cozy dad, and help myself to all the privileges that position entitled me to.

The primary highlight, and the thing I remember most, was the popcorn. Daddy would fix us a snack in his Stir Crazy Popcorn Popper and we would put it down while we watched our shows. Not that he needed any help at all to finish off that huge bowl (some things never change), but I had a special job. Anytime he dropped a piece, I would snag it off his tummy and eat it. Writing that now makes it sound weird, but I thought it was the funniest thing. It gave me something to chuckle at, it made me feel needed, it somehow deepened my love for Daddy.

The other activity for which that chair was utterly essential was Beauty Shop. Daddy and I loved to play hair! On a few occasions he styled mine too, but for the most part I delighted to go to work washing, conditioning, cutting and accessorizing his hair. For these appointments, Daddy would slide off the chair and onto the floor to lean up against it as I set up shop above him. I would vigorously wash and condition his hair with all my might. Then I skillfully clipped every barrette in my possession (an impressive collection) into Daddy's hair. These events were eagerly anticipated by both of us!

Sitting in that striped chair with Daddy may be one of my most meaningful childhood memories.

My heart has not been able to let go of that prayer since Sunday. I have continued to pray about the statement and ponder what it means to truly approach the throne of grace as a child of God. And every time I think about it, I think about Daddy, and I think about the chair.

I think of confidence.

So often when I think about approaching the throne of grace with confidence, I feel the need to muster it up, to put it on, to talk myself into the right, free mindset that has been promised to Christians. It is almost as if I need to convince myself.

When I think about how I climbed into the chair with my dad, I realize I never gave it a conscious thought. I never questioned my welcome. I never questioned my right. I never questioned his generosity. I never questioned the depth of our affection. I was his daughter. Therefore, everything that he enjoyed was mine to enjoy as well. The chair, the popcorn, the television. Of course I would take my place next to him. That was where I belonged. I can only imagine that any question of these affections would break the heart of such a loving parent.

I so desire to approach my Heavenly Father with this confidence. Confidence in His heart that is lodged so deeply within mine that I never question His generosity or affection, His sacrifice or love. Just as there was never a need for analysis when I approached the striped chair, never a need for hesitation, I want my adoption as a daughter of God to course so freely through my veins that I never for a moment keep my heart from my Father.

"Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Hebrews 4:16

I think of joy.

Daddy and I both enjoyed our time in the chair. Especially Beauty Shop time. Daddy got a thorough scalp massage, I got to play with hair. What more could we ask for? We enjoyed each other. It was simple. It was sweet. It was life-giving.

The more my heart grows away from inhibition, the more my Father and I may enjoy one another. Free to laugh, free to enjoy, free to cry, free to be.

"For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, 'Abba! [Daddy!] Father!'" Romans 8:15

I think of relationship.

When Daddy was at work, I never thought twice about sitting in that chair. My default reclining location of choice was on the love seat any other time of day. The chair was just that, a chair, unless Daddy was there. He was the highlight. He was the prize. His love was my delight. Not comfort. Not food. Not employment. Daddy.

In the same way, the throne of God, the expanse of heaven, is meaningless if He is not there. No space is worth inhabiting if the great I AM is not found there. The promise of a throne is empty unless it is overwhelmed by the presence of Jesus Christ. Even His throne is just a chair unless the Lord God is seated there.

"The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne." Revelation 3:21

Thank you, Daddy, for loving me in a way that reveals the heart of God for me. I know my understanding is still so limited, but I am undeserving and grateful to have you as my earthly father. We, as in me and God, love you so much.

more insight from Liam on seeking

Liam showed me the other aspect of the soul in hide-and-seek yesterday. The Atlanta heat and humidity gave me the opportunity to be his indoor jungle jim as we played in his tent and connecting tunnel. Given my size relative to the tent, I did not have the option of moving around and looking for him. Still he made a game out of finding me halfway in and halfway out over and over and over again. He crawled through the tent door over my hips, rolled onto the floor in front of me, sat up and proudly announced, "Hi!" Then he would race through the tunnel to come around and do it all over again. Despite the fact that I was always right where he left me, I realized he was enjoying the search too.

We were made to be searching all life long. Yes, we deeply desire to be found, but we also know we have to pursue something beyond what is offered by culture or politics or our parents. And in our searching we are found.

Great happiness is found in finding something for which one has searched. If I never search for anything, I am never delighted by finding anything. The search is indicative of desire, of hope, of aspiration, of need.

How much greater then is the elation when we find more than what we were looking for? Several months ago I looked in an old wallet for coupons and found $115 instead. Coupons would have been exciting, but I was beside myself when I found cash. In the same way, Liam loves to find me, but when he finds a ridiculous expression on my face or when I scoop him up to hug and tickle him he is even more enthusiastic about finding me than before.

Our role in the divine story of hide-and-seek is not a passive one. God is the Author of all searching and of all being found. He is passionate about finding us because we bear His image. But He is equally passionate about being found by us because our greatest delight in Him is His glory.

We are made in His image and therefore come to life in both searching for Him and being found by Him. We do not earn holiness or privilege by searching for Him; all merit was won by Jesus Himself. But we know and enjoy Him most when we set our hearts toward finding Him in all things.

Eternal joy is found in searching for Jesus Christ. He wants to be found. And He will always be greater than we ever dreamed.

"You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord,..." Jeremiah 29:13-14

"Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!" Psalm 34:8

still playing peek-a-boo

Liam has taught me many spiritual life lessons these past 11 months. Our last week together is proving to be no different.

We have played some version of peek-a-boo almost every day we've spent together. Whether it has been the literal game where I cover my face and then shout "peek-a-boo!" as I move my hands away, or the simplified 2-year-old version of hide-and-seek, we have had several hours of fun looking for each other.

Yesterday as I changed Liam's post-nap diaper, he put his hands over his eyes and the game began again: "Where's Liam?! I cannot find him anywhere! Where did he go??" With the biggest smile and my favorite giggle he quickly put his hands down and relished my exaggerated look of surprise and relief over having found him. He laughed his deep belly laugh and quickly covered his face again. We could have continued indefinitely.

Some days the game is that simple. Some days he actually hides himself behind the kitchen curtains so I have to rustle through them to find him. But I realized yesterday that he will always love being found. I still love it. And I bet you still love it too (although I doubt we really think about it that regularly).

The thrill takes different forms as we grow older, but the relief and excitement of being found is imprinted on our souls just the same. Sure, I still enjoy hide-and-seek when I babysit, but I more deeply enjoy being known, understood, and pursued as time goes on. There is deep satisfaction to be found in sharing one's soul with friends. I see this with my roommates: they see my sin on a regular basis, yet they pursue time with me, they find and love me despite my sin, and we grow closer every time we know each other better and choose to love each other more.

Or think of nicknames. I have more nicknames right now than I have ever had in my life. To be honest, there are several that I did not prefer when they first came into use. But there is something about a nickname that endears the hearts of those who use them. To my way of thinking, a nickname says, "I know you too well to call you what everyone else calls you. I've begun to find out who you really are and I have no intention of stopping right here."

Kelly Clarkson even speaks on behalf of the human race through her platform in pop culture in her song, "You Found Me."

"You found me when no one else was looking

How did you know just where I would be?

Yeah, you broke through all of my confusion

The ups and the downs and you still didn't leave

I guess that you saw what nobody could see

You found me."

I think we were designed for this. Someone is looking for us. He always has been. He always will be.

"Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost...Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost...It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead and is alive; he was lost, and is found." Luke 15

"O Lord, you have searched me and known me!...Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there!...For you formed my inward parts;...How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!...Search me, O God, and know my heart!" Psalm 139

writing out of the pit

In my mind I am a wretch

Stark reality is filth

Boils of pride, consumed with self

Wreaking violent guilt

Eyes cast down see only sin

Hopelessness enshrouds

Suffocated, choking cough

Engulfed in hell's hot clouds

But then I know You with me

Scandalous meeting here

Holy God to wretched girl

Whispers something in my ear

They are love words soft and pure

Set all my tear drops free

Soothing warmth heals inside out

His blood is liberating me

Blessed power from the throne

Of the One who became sin

Precious presence of His grace

Letting me begin again

Born anew in Spirit life

No longer blistered, bruised and sore

Robes of righteousness now mine

The cost too great to now forget

Or not believe the Truth

Faithful Love is faithful still

Though object is uncouth

Power flows when mind is set

Spirit-fixed is life

Death abounds on days of flesh

Source of crushing strife

Love so steady hems me in

Before and behind

Present, attentive, listening

Eager for me to find

Blessed tomb stands empty still

Though Enemy's contradictory

I spoke with Christ this morning

He's giving me His victory

Tashi's 24! (and 2.5 months)

Tashi's birthday was in April, but because I didn't get to see her until the 4th of JUly, I couldn't post the central portion of her gift until now. She's probably my most faithful follower anyway, so now you have an electronic copy, Tash :)

I love you!

Dear Tash,

My first thought when I met you was

"She's too old to be my friend!"

I would have laughed if I had known

How far that would be from the end!

We went for pads and pretzels

(at least we rode with style!)

But we left with something new

Not found on any grocery aisle

See, I was praying for a friend

And my mom was praying too

So into freshman loneliness

Jesus sweetly gave me you

It really started with a hug

(which of course makes great sense now)

And as many brown couch late nights

As our schedules would allow

Jennifer's toothbrush, naming Scooty

And our first 4th of JUly

Laid foundations for a friendship

Born of our Savior's sweet supply

For when we ask within His will

His blessings never hesitate

He knows and meets us promptly

Never early, never late

Sunday nights spent praying

Eternally wrote you on my soul

We learned to honor Him by asking BIG

Proclaiming He holds all control

Oh the prayers we've seen Him answer!

Rhymes cannot contain them all!

Abby, Bo, AXO, AGD, China, President, Celanese, Rach & Petey

Not to mention thousands small!

And though we grow together

We have our finer moments too

Oh the laughs that come to mind

As I try to name a few

"Let's make ringtones!" "Let's sit and read!"

"Let's take this spiritual gifts test!"

Of all our great ideas

"Old Pride and Prejudice!" was our best

We sure know our Zac Efron

Thanks to HSM and Hairspray

We know how to repair bumpers

With strings found on the freeway

We should have known that at the beach

Our fair skin burns without sunscreen

"Step Up" was a double feature

'Cause it's the best we'd ever seen!

Belting "Wicked" while in Hannah

You came as my formal date

"Oh there were 7 dwarves!!"

Tash, you're often a bit late ;)

You laughed at "August Rush"

Though I still don't quite know why

But when you saw me you laughed harder

Because my eyes were far from dry

We crashed at Alpha Chi Omega

Late one night in San Diego

But by far my favorite pastime

Is classification by potato

I am so glad to have you with me

As we search for zesty curly fries and sweet potato soufflé

No one else has shared my heart

In remotely the same way

You have been faithful, you are true

Even when it's hard to hear

And though our lives are far apart

Our hearts are always very near

No one else has been so loyal

You have pushed me toward the throne

And our Jesus deserves all glory

For the ways in which we've grown

You are nerdy through and through

You are nerdy to your core

But that's where Jesus reigns supreme

As the one that you adore

Thank you for sharing Him with me

Over all these last four years

So we may love Him more and more

On that great day when He appears

We will worship Him forever

Together grateful, on our knees

Captivated by His splendor

Making new all the eye sees

Love,

Kate

WITH, not WHAT

In a recent sermon series at Buckhead Church about the prodigal son, one of the teachers focused a week on the older son who was really just as rebellious and hateful as the younger. The only difference was that he covered it up with all the right actions until he reached his breaking point.

When the young squanderer was welcomed home with celebration and feasting, the do-good-er was irate. After years and years of obedience and compliance, everything in the older brother was outraged that all his service was ignored while the return of one so flagrantly self-absorbed was the cause of great rejoicing. In true older sibling fashion, he refused to join in the festivities and pouted outside until his father checked his dignity by the door to seek reconciliation with his other child.

Older brother's built-up bitterness spills out. He has slaved for his father faithfully for years. Why has he never been celebrated? This other son has spent every last cent on prostitutes and parties only to spark the biggest one he's ever seen upon returning. Why, after all older brother has done, has he not been rewarded or even recognized?

The father understands. Older brother and younger brother have both missed his heart. He says to older brother, "Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours." Older brother went on and on about WHAT he had done to deserve more than younger brother, never realizing that the celebration for his sibling was not over WHAT he had done, but the fact that he was reunited WITH his father.

WITH, not WHAT.

The Father wants our hearts WITH Him, not our bodies doing WHAT we think will impress or appease Him.

My mom embodies this perfectly.

She will do ANYTHING for our family to all just be WITH each other. When I am home, she stops whatever she is doing so that she can be with me. She even does things to serve me so that we can be together.

Just this weekend she sat on my bathroom floor and painted my toenails while I dried my hair. I know, she's ridiculous.

But I am so grateful for the constant reminder that my heart, my affection and my presence before Him is what my Heavenly Father desires and celebrates. Yes, actions that please Him flow out of my heart when I am WITH Him, but togetherness is what He wants, what He died to facilitate, what I live to pursue.

making the right comparison

Mrs. Oakley said something in our Community Group during high school that has been a theme throughout my years since then:

When comparison begins, contentment ends.

Especially for girls comparison either breeds pride or self-contempt, but for whatever reason we persist in comparing and ranking ourselves among others in our minds (or at least I do). So today Jesus' words were particularly poignant. In Luke 18:9-14, "He told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt." (v.9)

The parable portrays a Pharisee boasting before the Lord that he is not like other sinners and a tax collector begging for mercy in recognition of his sinfulness. Jesus then explains that the one who humbled himself was the one who was justified before God. Clearly the heart of the tax collector was poised for relationship with God, while the heart of the Pharisee delighted in a false sense of self-sufficiency.

I believe each of these men made comparisons that led their hearts to these positions.

The Pharisee looked around at the others who were approaching God and saw that he was living in greater moral purity than these. Compared to everyone around him, he seemed to be doing very well. Compared to everyone around him, he had every reason for pride. I do this so often. It is so easy to find people to watch who make me think I am doing well before the Lord, but it is just as easy to compare myself to people whose lives highlight my flaws. Neither mindset is what I want. Neither mindset allows room for the Lord to work in my heart.

The tax collector made a different comparison. The only worthwhile comparison. And it brought him to repentance and justification and true righteousness. The tax collector compared himself to the holiness of God. He knew what he would find if he were to look up and gaze upon the perfections of the Most High; it was for this reason that he stood far off and "would not even lift up his eyes to heaven." (v. 13) He knew what he would see: the throne of God, the righteous judge, who has commanded that His people be holy even as He is holy. One glimpse of God and the tax collector knew he could never earn the right to approach such beauty and holiness.

But that glimpse afforded him the courage to humble himself and ask for mercy. In comparing himself to the Lord of heaven, he saw the glorious love that leads man to repentance. He recognized that on his own he had no grounds for approaching the King, that his own righteousness was as a filthy rag, a presentation he could never offer to the spotless Lamb. But he also saw the robe. The robe of righteousness that is merited by the Holy One alone was extended to this tax collector.

And worship began.