It Will Be Worth It

I wrote a month ago with the intention of writing more. Then it didn't happen.

But I have written endlessly in the recent weeks. Not necessarily in my journal or in letters- but in my head. Transcripts of conversations I have had with Christ, and I feel like I may have talked myself out of words.

And so I begin with ... a word. A specific one from three years ago.

My friend Jessica and I were at the Gift Show in Atlanta and spent the end of the day shopping for jewelry, and such. I came across a table that had initials, and heart pendants inscribed with words. I love words. I like unusual pieces of jewelry. This table had my attention. I chose two different charms. The first one, and what I wore most frequently was "wisdom". The second one was the word was "freedom". Leaving the table Jessica remarked that she was surprised that I would pick 'freedom', and she was right- it was an unusual choice for me. But its what I wanted, though I never wore it. I would go to put it on from time to time and it never quite seemed right, and back into the box it would go saving it for another time, another outfit, another moment.

Nearing three years later the only word I can seem to think of these days is in fact, Freedom. It has been written on billboards, been the focus of the sermon series at Crossroads, it has come up in conversations with my best friends, and has been the driving desire in my relationship with Christ.

Tomorrow is Easter. As I have matured in my relationship with Christ I have noticed my sensitivity to the Cross and the events of Holy Week deepen as I have seen so distinctly how much I need a Savior. I can't imagine a love that would take on the sins of a people that could not save themselves so that we might choose to give our lives back to Him, walk with Him, and love Him... to join Him for eternity in Heaven. I am in awe of the sacrifice and am humbled more and more each year that we are His beloved.

Easter is Freedom. It is love in action. Sacrificial. Unconditional.

The meaning behind the word freedom has been a work in progress my entire life, though I have not always been aware of the larger picture. I sit here, in 2010 acutely aware of things that I have held captive in my heart unable to share or speak of because of fear, and have now seen how my life in many ways has been in bondage to the fear, the secrets, the past, the violations of trust and the hurts that I never took the time to address, talk about, or heal. I didn't know what would come of those big and small moments at the time, "I didn't know how to find my way through it, so instead I found my way around it" (quoted from a book I recently read which I identified with). I know now. The suppression, the running, the evasion has come to a end.

A song I recently heard while at church begins quietly and simply with the statement, "When freedom comes, it will be worth it".

Friends. I write you humbly and sincerely, that it has been worth it. The past is the past, and while I continue to struggle in not getting wrapped up in the impatience I find in people or situations in the present, due to their track record- I understand much more clearly why I feel the way I do, and how I need to rest in Christ more. I have been loved so incredibly well by my freedom fighters. They have helped make the journey bearable, and because they have prayed I have been able to get to this place and be bold.

Patience. Waiting. Vulnerability. Commitment. Independence. Love. Happiness.

The place of healing. The place of letting go. The place of true freedom from every last lie that I have believed and have let define my perception of my value and purpose.

Three years ago I chose freedom. I was not ready for what it meant, nor did I understand where I would have to go to find it. It has been shown to me in bits and pieces of landscapes, mountain tops, foreign soil, quiet moments alone, and in the eyes of my best and most treasured Boo.

With Easter arriving tomorrow, if you've not considered in the past what the resurrection of Christ means to you, I request simply that you think about what in your life holds you back, enslaves you, and keeps you from seeing the beauty found in the blood shed on a cross, a body buried, then in a mighty miracle an empty tomb and a life risen.

Freedom. When it comes. It will be worth it.

I give my life and heart willingly to His love, His life, His sacrifice, because I know each and every day it is worth it.

"When the freedom comes it will be worth it, it will be worth it...

When it comes to you.

Because you've got too much on your shoulders,

Too much in your head

Too much in your heart, that's poisonous...

Root deep,

I see things that keep you from seeing me

My will be done

In everyone

'Cause you've got burdens on your shoulders

Lies in your head

Pain in your heart... that wants you dead

Spirit open their eyes

Open their minds

Open their hearts

And help them know

Truth from a lie

Foe from a friend

That I am for them...

Because I want freedom on their shoulders

Peace in their heads

Love in their hearts

Again.

Over and Over Again."

Here. Chair.

Hi. My name is Kari and I used to blog a few times a week, for over two years. One day it stopped. Not that the feelings I had went away, or that I didn't have words to articulate said feelings.

I think in some ways I changed.

Something shifted. Something stopped making sense.

So instead of articulating my way through what no longer made sense, or making small talk... I just quieted. I retreated. I fell silent, and took refuge in becoming removed, away from over exposure.

Not to say that I'm back because to say that I feel an obligation to recommit to what I'm not sure I'm ready for, though I did tell my friend Julie today that I would start blogging again, so I'm here. Not back. Just here. That's easier.

You might be wondering "Where is here?"

Well physically I am in Oregon. Far removed from civilization, and neighboring town Antelope with a population of 37 (that's what the sign said, so I believe it). I am not in an entirely unfamiliar place, though it is new. I am nestled into the comforting leather chair that belongs to Andrew Piper that moved here for his new position with Young Life and their camp hidden in the Canyon of this most beautiful landscape.

Two weeks ago today I boarded a plane to visit this Andrew Piper person, whom has been written about consistently on this blog for two years, so if you don't know him, but have read me- then you and Andrew/Tex go way back. I was supposed to visit, hang out in Seattle on a road trip, then a week or so later pack back up, board a plane, get home and move four days later to Indianapolis. Suffice it to say, that didn't happen. Well, the part of visiting, the road trip to Seattle, and packing up did happen. I didn't board a plan thanks to an act of Jesus with Delta, and since I've been here working through what the next steps of life are, now some things are on hold.

I know, I know... ambiguous and not specific. Truth is, if you know me right now you know exactly what I am talking about- and I suppose I find comfort in leaving it at that.

I'm learning a lot.

The view from this room is breathtaking, and on the arms of this chair are two patches I stitched to the leather to repair the wear of time before it and its owner moved all the way out here. I hated this chair when Tex lived in Lexington. It was comfy for awhile, but I'm a little short for the high back to be able to snuggle in an comfortable angle. I also preferred the couch- spacious and accommodating and after awhile I broke up with the chair for the couch, and would argue with Tex about where I'd sit when we'd watch TV or play Tiger Woods. Now, its different. I think the truth is, everything is different. Except... the two patches that remain on either arm of this caramel colored, weathered, worn, wonderfully broken in piece of furniture. My fingers trace over the seems of red thread and I remember praying for where it was going as I spent time piecing it back together before its move. I prayed that Tex would be able to rest in the chair, that he would remember to take me with him on the journey, I thought quietly about how the patch and stitches would hold the broken leather below, and prayed that the Lord would hold us close and sweetly in the transition and change.

Sitting here four months later, and all that I know since getting here I amazed at the resiliency we can attain for those we love. It's been a great time in Oregon, full of exploration of new city skylines, and back roads. But it has also been a time in which I have been forced to be open and vulnerable in a relationship I have desired so dearly to be focused on Christ. It has been a struggle and exhausting, and I often wondered how much longer I can go while being so tired. I can't say for certain how I feel about the day, or moment- except that I am humbled greatly by the strength and support built into my friendship the past two and a half years with Mr. Piper as we determine and pursue the future. It's an extraordinary time. I'm thankful for it.

On hold. Waiting.

I feel a lot like this chair. Weathered, worn, beautifully broken in, and used as a safe place to rest with affection, faith, and truth. It's scary when moving forward not to bring doubts and fears, and pain or resentment from the past into the present moment. To trust boldly and bravely that we are desired to be intimately in love with our Creator, and with those chosen to walk through this life we are able to see that in a tangible and beautiful way. The stitches, the patches, the wears and tears... are part of the story.

I sit here. With you, whomever has chosen to find their way back to me in this place- wishing to tell you that the silence has been golden, and while I determine my footing in the moment, know that I am well. I am open. I am hopeful. And most of the time- just freaking excited about what is to come.

Plane will come Sunday night. This time I'm going home. But everything, and I mean more specifically, myself then topical details, is different.

And that's all I've got today. Probably see you tomorrow.