not past Him

Yesterday, a family moved from full-time service with the Salvation Army for 14 years and life in Tampa, Florida to a few streets over. Andy is the new Vice President for Academic Affairs at Wesley, and we are so excited to have Andy, Abby, and their kiddos Andy, Titus and Georgia here!

As Matt got things at their home ready...as we've been getting to know them and praying with them through this process, and we got things together to meet them yesterday with their moving truck to unload and help clean and feed and minister to them in that craziest of days, I have been filled with so many strong and hard emotions. As I've been trying to put myself in their shoes for this huge transition, leaving a life they've been in for SO long, starting totally over with their kids...moving so far, knowing no one, owning no furniture, buying their first house that only Andy had ever seen...I've realized that our OWN similar-in-some-ways transition last March and April was more traumatic than I even thought at the time. 

The Lord was with us, always, and He was our Rock for sure, there were glimmers... but as I sat down to copy out a "Liturgy for a New Home" for the Millers a few days ago, I realized that I still have a lot of baggage shoved in the basement over our abrupt exit from Haiti, month of homeless wanderings, and first few months of feeling suddenly in a totally foreign place, in the middle of Covid...

As I wrote out this prayer for them, I realized that I MISSED the beauty and blessings of a new home, of a fresh start, of what could be an intentional season, in total chaos and shock and survival mode.  I even remember someone asking me, "Your home looks beautiful, do you love it?" and not even knowing what in the world to say.

As I wrote for them, I stopped for me, and prayed the "Liturgy for Moving Into a New Home" for THIS home, 14 months late.  I asked Him to redeem so much that was lost, and to exchange some of that fear and sadness and loss and loneliness and shock...a time in our life I shudder to even think about...even NOW with this prayer.

I love that in Jesus, it's not finished and over. I love that time, in Him, doesn't matter.  I love that He is in the work of redeeming what was lost, what was broken, anytime, always.  

Whatever's still broken, whatever still needs His touch...it's not past Him.

Whatever it looked like for you, however long ago that day when you moved into your now home, pray it with me.

We thank you for this new home, O Lord, for the shelter it will provide, for the moments of life that will be shared within it.

Dwell with us in this place, O Lord. 

Dwell among us in these spaces, in these rooms.

Be present at this table as we eat together. 

Be present as we rise in the morning and lie down at night.

Be present in our work here. Be present in our play.

May your Spirit inhabit this home, making of it a sanctuary

where hearts and lives are knit together,

where bonds of love are strengthened, 

where mercy is learned and practiced.

May this our home be a harbor of anchorage and refuge,

and a haven from which we journey forth to do your work in your world.

May it be a garden of nourishment in which our roots go deep

that we might bear fruit for the nourishing of others.

May this our new home be a place of knowing and of being known,

a place of shared tears and laughter;

a place where forgiveness is easily asked and granted

and wounds are quickly healed;

a place of meaningful conversation, of words not left unsaid;

a place of joining, of becoming, of creating, and reflecting;

a place where our diverse gifts are named and appreciated;

where we learn to serve one another and to serve our neighbors well;

a place where our stories are forever twined by true affections.

Grant also, O Lord, that our days lived gratefully within these temporary walls,

enjoying these momentary fellowships,

would serve to awaken within us a restless longing for our truer home.

Incline our hearts ever toward the globes of that better city,

built by you, O God--

a city whose blessings are never-ending,

and whose fellowships are eternally unbroken.

-Douglas Kaine McKelvey