home

It's comfy and cozy, though sometimes loud and mean.

Humans live here and we tend to forget that as we whip around rooms costume adorned.

Superheroes is what I too often think we are. And yet we so aren't.

We're messy and sloppy with our love giving.

Shame-filled and grace-dividers.

Only *sometimes* (with an if/then math equation) do we want to be nice when really all the time we should be.

In defense of another's mis-treatment we mis-treat another. We just get it all so wrong.

It's easy to get Love wrong here where we feel so safe and secure. 

Though we sometimes each have visions that this could one day come to a screeching halt, we mostly consume our commitment with big gulps, like kids drinking grape Kool-Aid on a hot summer's day then rushing off to play.

We don't look back and give thanks.

We consume, gulp, and wipe our faces on our sleeves and keep on trudging through life. 

Our man-created-home does this. Makes togetherness get all comfy and cozy where we forget the fragility of life-togetherness.

Yet, He's so much bigger than even our idol of this place. 

He allows the chaos to enter in, and the Kool-Aid to run out, and our faces to meet in confession for our unlovingness.

His Home will be better. I forget that sometimes in my play-house life.

A piece of His Home is here, in our so called home. And sometimes it's almost too much to receive.

I try to remember that. How the days are a *process* toward receiving fully.

He's readying me. Even here.

Today's post was part of my friend, Lisa-Jo's fun challenge each Friday to take five and Just. Write.

     "...for five, short, bold beautiful minutes... unscripted and unedited...

     without worrying if it's just right or not."

Share your heart . . . add a comment below.

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