Home in the Heartland

The passage of time is an absolute mystery. Days drag but years fly. When I started the journey of writing I was very young. Most of my work was dark, brooding poetry. For a season I stopped. When I began again my form was prose and the subject matter was much lighter. I’ve written for several publications and blogged. I co-wrote a book with a friend and have my own book on Amazon. The childhood fancy of becoming a librarian one day fits into this literary lunacy.

Over two years ago I had a spiritual famine. I did not keep my faith fed and as a result my spirit withered. The ink in my pens ceased to flow and writing became a memory. On the outside I appeared normal: overworked employee, over committed volunteer, overwhelmed family member, and overblown schedule. I say appear normal because society idoloizes multitaking and applauds those who sacrifice themselves on that altar. This behavior, however, is far from healthy.

The middle of 2021 had me in a doctor’s office facing three choices: overhaul my lifestyle, go on a lot of medicine, or die of a heart attack within a few years. By the end of 2021 I could no longer deny that I was no longer holding on by a tenuous thread. Despite the advice of the doctor, I had kept going. Voluteered more. Ran more races. Worked more hours. Taken on more than I should have. Tried to bury hurt after hurt under acivities designed to heal. In December I wound up telling a friend on the phone: “I’m standing on the boat dock. I’m ankle deep in this river. I need five reasons right now why I shouldn’t walk out and never come back.”

Thank God for Godly friends. Five reasons were found but as I pointed out later not one of those was because I actually wanted to live. It was still enough of a scare to send me to the throne room of God and straight to the feet of Jesus. I would not talk to my family about the river. All I had was God. I prayed, “Lord, move or move me!” Obstacles remained. Hurdles became higher. Valleys were increasing in depth, number, and shadow. If this was God moving I was convinced He had stopped loving me. In my opinion everyone else in my life had, too.

Instead of letting it make me stronger and use the circumstances to build my faith, I did foolishly. I joined a dating app and met up with someone. While I was flirting with him I had a one night stand with a different man. That relationship is now completely ruined. I decided to put my house on the market and move to Tennessee. Mr. Dating App was all for it. We had an unholy relationship punctuated by the occasional scripture reading.

For four months I beat my head against the wall of my own willfulness trying to get to Tennessee. Prospective employers wouldn’t return my calls. Without a job, no home loan. No loan, no house. But no realtors wanted to work with me anyway. It took only a three day visit to Knoxville to realize I could not move there.

In my heart I knew I couldn’t stay in Maryland. Most of my stuff was either sold or packed. Closing on the house in Maryland was less than two months away and I had nowhere to go. I almost went back to the river. In July 2022 I was by myself at work. I was hot, exhausted, suicidal, and unwell. Looking back now I can see the mental breakdown. I texted my pastor. Not the pastor of the church I was currently attending, but a pastor I’d been friends with for over a decade. The history of our families runs deep.

I told him I was about to be jobless and homeless and if that’s the case I’d be better off lifeless. He texted back: “First of all shut up.” Sometimes it pays to be blunt. He shocked me enough I listened; actually heard the advice being given. “You can’t be nothing if you’re God’s.” I had no reply. “But not for nothing there’s a cook position that just opened here. You’re overqualified. Call them anyway. Move here. Get here. You need to be away from Maryland.”

Kansas. Not just Kansas. Small town southwest middle of nowhere Kansas.

I called. I got the job. Dandy. I can’t commute MD to KS daily. Google search. Found house. Called realtor. Called bank. Got house. Got loan. Have not left Maryland.

Three days.

In three days job, house, and loan came together where for four months Tennessee made me fall apart. It was the death knell for he relationship I was in. I was facing moving halfway across the country with three special needs cats alone.

September 23: sell house.

September 24: pack truck.

September 25: leave Maryland.

September 26: arrive Kansas.

As motion sick as I got on the drive halfway across the country, I can still say some healing happened. I left Maryland feeling like I was nothing more than the dirt of the shoe bottom to some who said they cared. At the time I was telling people I was moving because I needed to slow down and have a change of pace. In actuality, I was running away.

I had watched as the pandemic drove a wedge in families I thought were solid. I couldn’t handle the death of my best friend. I didn’t want to repent of my own immorality. I found out the exact opinion of a family member regarding my ability as a mother. Everywhere I went all I saw was places and events of days gone by. Times I thought I was loved by the ones I lived but it was a lie. And the one person I could rely on was dead. For someone who doesn’t believe in ghosts all I saw were ghosts. Shadows of shame. Specters of selfishness. Haunting hatred.

I moved to Kansas to cook a little, plant a garden, and eventually die alone. I knew I had a couple solid friends and family back in the East Coast but ultimately I wanted a fresh start that led nowhere.

But God…

The scripture I had stood on for the move was Isaiah 54:2-4:

Enlarge the place of your tent,
And let the curtains of your habitations be stretched out;
do not hold back; lengthen your cords and strengthen your stakes. 
For you will spread abroad to the right and to the left,
and your offspring will possess the nations and will people desolate cities. 
Fear not, for you will not be ashamed;
be not confounded for you will not be disgraced;
for you will forget the shame of your youth,
and the reproach of your widowhood you will remember no more.”

That’s a lot of big promises! But faith without works is dead (James 2:26). This passage asks for action! Enlarge! Stretch out! Don’t hold back! Lengthen! Straighten! Fear not! Be not! This entire portion is the Lord God commanding His people to joyfully get ready for their future. I was all for this.

There is a leapfrog effect in this passage: 2a lines up with 3, 2b lines up with 4.

Enlarge the place of your tent leads to for you will spread abroad to the right and the left. Notice there’s no going back. The boundaries of a tent were important in a nomadic society. By that one action a family shows that they are expecting to grow. The promise of verde three is that the offspring will possess entire nations and people desolate cities. They will have permanent homes not portable tents. What the Lord does not tell them to do is destroy the boundary of the tent. Moving the boundary outward does not mean the tent is now all inclusive, rather it shows selective inclusion.

I had allowed people into the tent of my heart that should not have been inside. I had thought that to enlarge was to include but had neglected to recognize boundaries. It was not just my dwelling place; God wanted residence, too. I had chosen to enlarge the tent without following God’s direction on how.

Curtains get stretched.

Cords get lengthened.

Stakes get strengthened.

Three things for verse two. Three things for verse four.

Ashamed.

Confounded.

Disgraced.

Ashamed people will try and cover up the source of their shame. It started in the Garden of Eden with fig leaves. What is the purpose of a curtain? To cover. Verse four: fear not. Fear and shame cower and cover. The Bible says perfect love cats out all fear. It is a stretch of faith to truly love. It takes courage and boldness to step forward and be open with the agape love of God. It is not impossible but it is sometimes difficult. By stretching the curtain we now rely on God for our cover.

Another word for confounded is twisted. Cord is made by twisting fibers together to make them stronger. We can lengthen a cord by simply tying more cord to it. But how can we receive the promise of verse four (forget the shame of our youth) by adding to it? Untwist the cord. Releasing twisted fibers will increase their length but it also makes them weaker. A tent can not stand with weakened cords in the natural. But in the spiritual, by choosing God to be our binding we acknowledge our weakness. In our weakness He is strong.

Strengthen your stakes. How does that happen? Camping websites offer plenty of tips but the most common is to drive the stake straight down. It is the most effective position against severe storms and wild winds. Another definition of disgrace is “to reduce to a lower position, to bury.” The love of God is deep. It will bring us out of a place of disgrace and give us complete emotional restoration. Our daily Bible reading and prayer time should strengthen our foundation in the Word. When the storms of life come, our disgrace stays buried.

I churned over this passage alone for months. No forward movement spiritually. I was enjoying Kansas: the sights, sounds, job, people, church. But Isaiah still loomed. One December day I was talking with a new friend about it. He asked a logical question: why did you start in verse two instead of one?

“Sing, O barren one, who did not bear,
break forth into singing and cry aloud,
you who have not been in labor!
For the children of the desolate one shall be no more than the children of her who is married,” says the Lord.”

It all begins with praise! No matter the circumstances. No matter the pain. No matter the trials or hardships God WILL be praised! It takes a labor of praise to be able to do the work of God. To build. To stand. To fight the good fight. In all my travels of all types I had lost the determination to fully praise God.

No more.

In January of 2023 I accepted the call to join the praise team at church. Scary move for someone who had been told by a former worship leader to no go to the altar for prayer. “It confuses people when strong women cry.” But God was giving me a new church family. The chains on my heart were creaking and cracking.

Remember the new friend I was speaking to about all of this? Our bond grew and blossomed. Philios became agape became eros. He asked me to marry him at praise team practice in front of the family. I said yes (when I got my voice back and my jaw off the floor.) I never saw it coming. He is dear to me in every way. He is Mo Grá, my love. My warrior. My Eric.

We took a vow of chastity for our courtship. Was abstinence easy for those months? No. Was it worth it? Resoundingly yes. Our relationship has no shame since we are covered by God. By not getting twisted in the physical wants beforehand we are a longer three stranded cord in marriage. The strength of our bond is deep by being grounded in the Word of God.

Recently the Lord took me to Revelation 2, the church at Ephesus. It was a reminder, “Remember from where you have fallen. Repent, and do the works you did at first.” When I fist dedicated myself to Him in 1997 all I could do was talk about Him. I read the Bible almost exclusively. To an extent these two things have fallen to the wayside in the business of “church work”. I have repented. The ministry my husband and I are called to do will require absolute trust and obedience to only move as God says. Eric and I are one on this matter.

In the beginning of July this year I almost died. That’s a WHOLE other post… it’s been said the real person comes out in times of crisis. I have very little memory of that day but I’ve been told I was asking doctors and nurses if they knew Jesus. The call is clear.

The name of this blog has changed. The tone could also. I don’t know. That’s God’s decision. I do know I won’t give as much weight to public opinion of my work. I make typos and grammatical errors. I don’t care who points them out. Facts don’t care about your feelings. And some things really are just black and white. I care about truth.

I bought a house in Kansas. God in His grace made it a home. Eric has made me feel at home. What could move a Highlands Maryland girl to Flatlands Kansas? Only a move of God. There is work to be done here, but now it’s done with joy. With trust. In obedience. In love. I’m home in the Heartland until Jesus returns if I’m called to my eternal home.

Mr. And Mrs. ❤️

He’s a beekeeper! I wear a suit because of that “almost died” incident.

Skyline at sunset. On a clear day you can see forever.