This is the chair where I meet with Jesus, morning light peeking through the leaves of the jackfruit tree outside my window. I’ve dreamed about this spot for a long time, my own little space where I can curl up and sing softly praises to my Savior, let His Words of Truth cleanse my soul. It is the perfect chair- cozy and wide and sturdy, rattan to remind me of Asia.
There’s a spot on the ledge for my coffee mug, my memorial stone from the week in Thailand last August when ‘tumor’ and ‘surgery’ and ‘benign’ became part of my vocabulary, part of my story. In those scary moments when I felt so alone, God took me to a place of complete dependence on Him because I had nowhere else to go. Now when the fear threatens to grip my heart as I stare into the foggy future, I sip coffee and remember to hope, to trust, to hold tight.
I light my candle and let the gentle scent rise as incense to my King. It reminds me that Light pierces the darkness, always. Light breaks through victorious, our All-Consuming Fire is working, refining, drawing. In the nations where it feels like the darkness is winning, He cannot be conquered or extinguished, even in the places where it feels like the faintest flicker can’t keep going.
The picture frame was a rare find in the little dollar store in the mall. It holds a memory, a moment I treasure with my little nephew tucked in beside me with a new book, my just-born niece cozy in my lap. I can’t help but smile and thank God for the gift of my people, those dear ones He has placed in my life.
Most days, I fight to understand, fight the ugly that keeps pushing through in my heart. I wrestle with the brokenness I see around me, despair over lack of fruit and lack of energy and the fear of all the rest of me that might be lacking. I question and doubt, allow faith to rise in my heart and then wonder yet again. Sometimes I listen and sometimes I’m too quick to speak, to fix or control. Deep joy and deep sorrow reside together, one overpowering the other depending on the day.
Yet, in this spot, with all these precious little things, I get to pause. I get to delight yet again in all of these small gifts undeserved, and feast upon the true source of joy and hope, my firm foundation in the midst of the chaos.