Looking down our gravel driveway at the open fields and trees that frame what I call my Montana sky, without fail, always takes my breath away. No matter the season, whether it’s the cold of winter, etched across the grey lifeless vista, to the gorgeous billowy clouds of summer, complete with the smells of newly mown hay, wildflowers, or even the cows in the next field, I understand what Anne of Green Gables meant when she said she wanted to drink it all in. My senses heightened, I am immersed in delight that words cannot come close to describing. This is the entrance to P’Niel, our retreat venue. And to our new home.
So it’s no wonder my heart breaks when I realize that in a short time it can all go away. For this land that sits across from our front door is about to be sold, and the loveliness that is there could be gone.
I’ve always thought—more times than not—I was an “okay” generous soul. Thinking I held my possessions rather loosely, freely giving of my time to family and friends, serving several places within my church, and even moving out of my beautiful home so that it could become a retreat and home away from home for missionaries, I felt I was in step with what God wanted me to do.
Up until this past Sunday when I realized that my Christianity was at best, lukewarm.
Yes, I had given up my home, proclaiming to the world, it is the Lord’s, but in hidden places in my heart, was still clinging to it as mine.
Yes, I have moved into our “little house surrounded by the big woods,” that graces us with lovely sunsets each evening, but have lamented over the beautiful sunrises at the retreat venue I can no longer see.
Yes, I tell of the baby foxes, deer, and turkeys that move quite freely around our new home, but deep down I miss the lightening bugs twinkling up the night sky as I sit on the deck where we once lived that looks to the openness below.
So I had to ask myself, am I saying one thing with my words, while my heart speaks an entirely different language?
Am I completely sold out for Christ?
OR,
Am I living with one foot in the world of my choosing, while the other is tickling the ground where God has placed me?
Reading in Acts 2:42-45, that’s not how the first missionaries, the first group of Christians lived.
“All the believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, and to fellowship, and to sharing in meals (including the Lord’s Supper), and to prayer. A deep sense of awe came over them all, and the apostles performed many miraculous signs and wonders.
And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had. They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need.” (NLT)
God may not call most of us to sell all we own and live as those first Christians did, but in reality, we are His missionaries. The question then is, what He puts on our hearts to do, as people of Christ, do we do it wholeheartedly?
For me, that was not the case. Deep down I was lamenting all the changes.
From more square footage to less.
From a wide open expanse to a sky cut short by massive trees.
From almost no mosquitoes, to squadrons attacking the minute the front door is opened.
From possibly losing the Montana sky for whatever purpose God has planned.
Thankfully, the Lord knows our frame, that we are but dust. (See Psalm 103:14.) He also has been tempted by every temptation we face and have failed. The good news is that He did not fail. (See Hebrews 4:15.) He takes our sin upon Himself and places His righteousness within us, so that we can dive deeply and wholeheartedly into wherever He takes us.
“Lord, please change my heart, so that what the world holds is not my delight, but that You are. Please continue to help me fall more in love with You. In Jesus’ name. Amen
Kimberly
Galatians 2:20 ESV
“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.”
And in Philippians 1:21 ESV
“For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”
Kim, I have just read, meditated upon, and wept over these beautiful words…but more importantly, soaked them into my own soul…for no doubt, I am in that category of “lukewarmness.” Your blog challenges me to leave my comfort zone and venture out past the familiar sameness of my life and into His more perfect will. Thank you for speaking to my heart!