healing leaves

that moment.

that delicious moment when they drive away to school and i know that i have the house, alone, completely alone, at least for a little while.

i am home. a new home in a known place. i am new and known. there is sameness and difference. stability and change.  the world changes, God is the same. that source of love and light that stays and is, where ever we are. we are somewhere between. in time. on a journey, changing to know and become more of that light and love.

i woke up wide at 4 am, killed the mosquito in the net and wrestled sleep for a couple of hours. at 6 it was still dark but time to begin. i had 45 minutes until the fullness of the house happens. it starts slowly- child by child- escalating in volume and remembering things and shoes and bags until the car heads out of the driveway. and then...that silence.

we have been back home in uganda for 5 weeks- in someways forever, in other ways it's brand new. we have moved into the city, eliminating our 3 hours in the car each day, and having to find out where, in this place, to buy vegetables and airtime and cooking gas.

our house is on a hill and is filled with light and breezes and i have to admit that from my bedroom veranda (yes i said i have a bedroom veranda) i can see lake victoria. and that is only because that is the way that God provides- above and beyond what we can ask or imagine. it's a gift of peace and refreshment that i didn't ask for or imagine- and it's fantastic.

all i asked, was to come home. all i wanted was to return and to return re-assembled but correctly assembled. even if i landed in a hut- i wanted to return.

i came here four years ago like an ikea bed. ready to be put together quickly and used, assuming wholeness, but missing some key bolts and screws. not enough that i couldn't serve my purpose, but enough that with time, i wouldn't be strong enough to withstand the pressure of those using me, those needing me.

but, Jesus is a carpenter. God is a repairer of broken walls. a healer. a mender. one who values and loves the core of us. is not afraid of our broken bits. sees our wholeness.  is big enough, to hold us when we break apart, put us back together wholly, glued with grace, and from this place our cracks and scars tell the story of Love. from this place, we begin to shine.

i'm one of those people who never reads the introduction or the preface.  i just want to get to the good stuff. it even bothers me that people write an introduction or a preface. i enjoy a quote- and then chapter one.  but today i began a book and i began with the introduction. the book is called "the journey to wholeness in Christ" and because it is about a journey it seemed appropriate to prepare by reading the intro.  thank God. because i would have missed words i needed to hear.

there is a lot in the bible about gardens and fruit. about bearing fruit and being connected to the vine, about the kind of fruit we should grow and how we should tend to things.  but this was about leaves. "Their fruit will serve for food, and their leaves for healing." Ez 47:12

healing leaves. it is a beautiful image. perhaps because i am surrounded by them and they make nice sound when the wind blows them. perhaps because they can be medicinal, or eaten, or provide shade from the sun and cover from the rain. perhaps because they come in such different shapes and shades, as we do.

we need different things, at different times. often, we are each other's healing leaves. at times we can give shade, protection, or salve. sometimes we bring music, or color, and joy. we give and we need to receive.

but when we give our stories, when we share our broken, when we hold each other in the suffering and the mending, when we show our scars, when we listen; it is the story of Love.

and the light begins to shine.