I tried dividing this into several posts, but for now it is just long and I am sorry. My editing and culling skills are weak and diminished at the moment. Read on if you can forgive me.

We had a house painter salesman come to our house today to get estimates on projects that are just too tall for us to tackle. I always feel a bit guilty for things like this because I want projects around the house done for which I will explain in a bit, and Jack is almost always willing and capable to help me do the things that I cannot do myself. I have some very crazy experiences of when we have asked for assistance like painting, plumbing, etc. Almost every time something very insane and unprofessional takes place (yesterday we had an air conditioner replaced and the guys left the old unit in the attic, for example) and I am left with a way bigger problem than any chipped paint or cracked grout ever was. I have forever analyzed this because that is the person I am. I analyze situations for lessons and destructive patterns or beliefs so that they may be changed. It has been a year since we moved into this house. Moving in at our ages and by ourselves made the move harder than any others we’ve ever done. It has taken a while to think about moving or repainting anything. We finally reached a point in the last couple of weeks to at least begin getting estimates for work we would like to have done. I think those in my life and especially those that are very different from me have always seen my organized, clean and art-filled house as just a place in which I focus an obsession or that I’m just a perfectionist, or that I have way too much time on my hands. I have certainly operated as a perfectionist in my life and in my house before for sure, but it is not that way anymore. As I mentioned in the last post I reached a point in the last several weeks where the pain of being misunderstood or just brushed off for being some wealthy, painting, spoiled, housewife who has been hurt by the church. I couldn’t take it anymore. If you could have a conversation with God, I can guarantee you that he would confirm this creative, feeling soul has spent countless hours and years painting and reading scripture and reading hundreds and hundreds of other books and laying face down on the floor crying out for answers for loneliness and rejection and misunderstood perfectionism and for confronting tough situations as being critical. In my immaturity, I certainly have not approached everything with grace and mercy and sometimes have avoided confrontation all together. It has always been easier to just take the pain of what I want to say to help others or to take the words I want to use to just speak up for myself and stuff it back inside and risk being misunderstood as quiet, shy, unconfrontational, boring, picky, judgmental or running from my problems. I have left friends and family that I saw hurting or that hurt me because I couldn’t speak up. (And I have to admit I have stuck by and walked through very tough situations with some people and spoken into the lives of others that have been healing and transformational.) Part of the issues with having contractors in my home have to do with this. I would be blown away by their disregard and disrespect for our home. It was not tiny things I was obnoxious about. It was things that other people would refuse to take or accept. I would quietly ask Jack to go say what he knows to do well—be direct, and “ask for what you need”. For some reason I have never had a problem going to God in prayer for the help, for clarity, or for direction. And because I believe we have that kind of relationship and because I spend lots of time listening and worshipping, He has always answered. The problems I have felt lately with rejection and disrespect and disregard have been a whole other story. I knew I was asking God for things I had to deal with. I had wrong beliefs, not about God, but beliefs about life and people and expectations and gifts He had given me. I realized I see things differently. I experience things differently. I understand everyone is different and they do things differently. I’m talking about something even bigger than that. These are things that cause me to carry burdens that are not mine. I would carry away things that other people would never carry away from a conversation or an event or an interaction. Now, I’m not talking about some psychic weird stuff. I would worry about a person’s situation and stress that I couldn’t do anything to help. And, here is the problem. I knew exactly how I could help, but I couldn’t speak up to share the solution or offer my assistance. However, if they had a mess they wanted to organize I was the first to offer my house cleaning or organizing skills. In fact, I would wear myself out as a volunteer to help them tidy up any space they might have had while talking about the symbolism of clutter in a home and clutter in a mind, heart or soul. That made sense to me. They were open and I felt like it was one area where I was as close of an expert as I could be. With these gifts, I have considered being a professional organizer or a counselor. And I have considered going back to school for both. However, they either seemed superficial or earthly or too medical and removed from faith. And, I also knew that I am not really called to those things.

Back to the guy at the house today. He mentioned several faith related things and I was a little confused as to how he might have a clue in our interactions up to that point that we might have a faith at all. Then, he mentioned the music I had playing in almost every room. It was worship music and after inviting him in, I forgot it was even on. It is not the only music I listen to because I believe God can speak through any lyric. It was my music of choice this morning, however. I mentioned in the last post that I had recently gotten off of a fast. Yesterday was the crash and the excruciating breakthrough part of the fast. It had been two days since I had broken the fast, but I had the most horrific headache and was vomiting every couple of hours. I know that is too much information, but it is part of my point. I have spent years seeking answers for things. I’ve tried it all. I knew, after the spiritual time I had during the lockdown that all I had prayed about for years required things from me and not God. I resorted to a fast to determine what my part was. I had no idea starting out just how many days it might take. It took 66 hours to get clarity and redirection, then two days of normalcy to have the strength for the real breakthroughs to occur. I desperately wanted to alleviate the pain and move on. But, I didn’t want to miss one single lesson. I needed adjustments and it took a difficult day for all the wrong beliefs to be pointed out and for me to do the letting go and the releasing that was needed. Here is where I am passionate and where I have been hurt in the Church and where you may have noticed lots of what may have read like judgement of the Church in several of my last posts. I am passionate about breakthrough and real freedom and real peace and real joy. As much time as I spend reading and studying and listening, I still had hurt and pain that I needed to let go of. As gifted as I might have ever felt to discern pain and hurt and disfunction and crazy beliefs and fear in other people’s lives, I had ways of managing and doing life and speaking up and running from my gifts that caused me to be rejected or judged or ignored by the very people I was always trying to help. And, I found a description to define my gift more than discerner or exhorter and that was “empath”. I wrote a whole post about that, so I’m not here to keep going on trying to explain that. It basically means that a person has empathy. The issue is that they feel it way more than most people that care. They would rather adjust themselves than speak up and risk hurting others. It wasn’t always obvious that I was doing that to me or to others. At times, it even looked the opposite just because I didn’t know what to say or more times than not, they were not ready to heal or hear anything from me, so I remained quiet which could have seemed cold or uncaring. I am not in any way saying I am all knowing or some freak, but I do know that I am sensitive and I’ve got a whole lot of time to pray and that is what I do. I read, pray, paint and clean. Call me up anytime and 99 percent of the time those are the answers you will get for what I’m doing. The one thing I learned about the descriptions of an empath is that their houses are sanctuaries or retreats or safe places for the empath. That answered something I’ve questioned for years. I do see my house this way. I see it certainly as a place I can retreat to for safety and rest and peace. I have always wanted it organized and clean, not because I’m a perfectionist but because I function better that way. I have more energy and resources for others when “my work is done”. I see my home as a refuge to offer others as well. I don’t want company to just come over for coming over. People can go to a restaurant for that. I want to offer them an experience of peace and joy and safety and help and attention and relaxation. I have always cringed at the thought of cooking while I have company. I want to give my guests my undivided attention. I want to sit with them, look them in the eyes, and really find out how they are because they are finally in the flesh in my space. If you have ever been to our house, you have seen Jack do almost all of the cooking or I have completely prepared things ahead of time. I never want to appear distracted or too busy for others. People may think I’m lazy or spoiled and that I just let my husband do the work. You might not have seen the hours of cleaning or the hour of setting the mood by turning on music and lighting candles and setting things out we may need or the prayer and nap I took before even having company to ensure the company feels loved, welcomed and that I might be undistracted and sensitive to hear anything that might give me an opening into how I might help someone or offer hope or offer a quote or a book suggestion or a listening ear that just might help them on their journey. Have I always opened the door ready to help? No. I have been pressured into having company. They have been early. Or oftentimes I can sense pain I want to address and for many reasons cannot. So, what do I do? Well, I might seem closed off or shy or I may just be awkward and engage in surface level conversation when I want to either be vulnerable or ask vulnerable questions. And I am not saying I want my company to always be prepared to be open and vulnerable and ready for a counseling session. Of course not. I am saying that I want our home to be a non-judgemtnal home where guests feel loved and safe to share and no need to hide hurt or pain or stress. I am never going to be the person that says “you know that is sin. Give it to Jesus. He is your only hope.” Do I think that is true? Sure. On a side note—Do I think the only sins are the biggy moral ones that make the headlines? Absolutely not. That is why I have been hurt by the Church, meaning the big box that is religion. We just moved from Nashville, which I will argue until the cows come home, is the Christian version of LA. The creativity and the drive and the egoes are strong. Do I think God moves there just like anywhere else, of course I do. But I do believe we must examine things for what they are and not just assume that because a person writes a book or a song or has a podcast or writes a blog he/she is automatically a mature believer with no faults or pride or hurts and that we do not just put them on a pedestal for mentioning the LORD or Jesus. The world is looking at the Church, as a building, an authority and at its people who are supposed to be living differently. And when I say differently I do not mean not drinking or not having affairs or not cheating on their taxes. Are the people (we) in the church helping hurting people? Are we living with freedom and peace? Is our joy different? Is our love unconditional? Do we have any grace. Do we even understand grace? Do we know or understand mercy? Are we going around only concerned about politics and the election and what we can or can’t try to do to stop it, whatever “it” is? Or are we so filled with love for others that fear doesn't have a place and do we know that no matter what happens we are gonna be ok? Is that the message the church is giving? It isn’t the one I’ve heard in years. I think part of the problem here is that the voices that are the loudest are the most famous and often times the very young with not much life experience. Has the church forgotten about the older, wiser been there done that faith-filled men and women in the pews or chairs who quietly live out their faith? Do we even let their voices be heard or do we even listen if they try to share? Are they even part of the churches we attend?

And again, back to the guy at our house today. He asked us where we have been going to church. We shared that the one we were going to is closed now, so we are just doing our thing on Sunday mornings. We told him we have a worship playlist we turn on each Sunday morning, and we both read as we do every morning. It hasn’t devastated me. Sure I need and miss community. But I’ve also been learning that I’m not that great at it, so I’ve tried to learn what I can during this time away. The man mentioned that he usually listens to church online. But, then he said, “I have no idea what God is doing. How can Christians keep being ok without church? “ And he said that the enemy must really be getting his way. At least that is what I heard. I didn’t know the guy, but things bubbled up. I felt an explosion of an explanation, then looked at Jack and quietly said, “Oh I think I know exactly what He is doing.” No I don’t know exactly, but I know what He has taught me and how he has made me that continually confirms what the point of this Covid virus house bound thing just might be. And I’m not saying I know what the reasoning is because I’m better or wiser or all knowing. I just have spent the time asking and listening. And running and listening and painting. I haven’t been an essential worker for life in Tennessee, but I know I have been an essential worker for the Kingdom and my family whether they know it or not.

This seems like the perfect time to share something I have wanted to share for some time. Hang with me. I will try to make it make sense to be included her. We had precious friends from long ago swing through town about a month ago. We met them for ice cream. The husband shared that he had prayed and prayed for years for a different house. He said he had designated, special scriptures that he used. He said he felt a little bad about praying for a house with character when their house was fine. He continued none the less for years waiting for the perfect answer. I completely understood because I felt the same way for years living in Nashville. So, my heart was tender already because I knew I was sitting across from a kindred spirit. I knew he knew what it was tlike to take not only life stuff to a God in prayer, but he knew he was taking his deepest desires and dreams to a Friend in prayer . Anyway, his wife pulled up the photos and she handed me her phone. As I took the phone and saw the first picture, I started crying. If we had not been in a public place it would have been a sob. Here is the first picture I saw.

This is their kitchen! They turned a church that was for sale and getting worse and worse from wear with each passing day into a home. I cried not because I was jealous of this fantastic magazine worthy picture, but by the fact that this is the only picture I have ever encountered that pictured how I view the secular and sacred or the spiritual and the everyday. I cried because he was sharing a beautiful visual answer to his very personal prayer. I get that. That is how I see each painting I paint and I share them just as if I’m sharing a personal picture of an answered prayer. Every house has a kitchen and most people spend a part of each day in a kitchen. They are symbolically very secular. But theirs was a former church and a constant reminder. That is obviously spiritual. Well someone looking from the outside without the story might just think this house is sacrilegious. But I knew this was an answer to his years of prayer and it was beautiful. This church was forced to be offered for sale because of its elderly dwindling congregation. Our friends saw it as a chance to restore something beautiful. Also, I cried because this is how I see my house and my bathroom and my garage and my back porch, but I just do not have any stained glass windows to make it look that way. My house is sacred ground. Not because we are special or that we do anything special in it, but because I do meet God here. It is where I thank Him and listen and pray and worship. And my taking care of it is a respect thing. I see it as a gift with a purpose that is meant to be taken care of and used. That is why I get sad and angry if workers treat it like people treat the restroom at a gas station or if visitors disregard my requests for their kids to not run up and down the stairs with dog poop on their shoes or if my own children get angry if I ask them to pick up after themselves. And if I would have spoken to the guy in my house today about his concern. I would have shared that. And by that I mean that our own houses can be considered sacred too. Our time can be sacred, as well. God is everywhere! He’s not just in a church building on Sunday morning or Sunday and Wednesday and Sunday night, but also in our own homes or next to a homeless person on a sidewalk. I know some do not believe that statement, but I do. I don’t believe we have to call and invite Him everywhere. I think that is what omnipresent means. And I do not think he only goes where humans have determined are sacred or free of “sin” or only in the homes of believers. I think that is the Covid lesson. Just because church is closed is God concerned? Is He worried about what will happen or how we will survive?. No. Is he in control? Sure! Do we need to seek Him even when the doors of a building are closed? Of course! Can making breakfast alone in a kitchen be spiritual? You better bet it can? Can we learn lessons even if we aren’t in church? I’m hear to say yes we can! But, you have got to want to learn them, you might need to change the things you believe in that are keeping you stuck, and your eyes must be open and so must your ears. Some churches have changed themselves for Seekers. And people have criticized them for it. I’m hear to say that we must all be seekers and teachable and listening and it would be amazing if the mature and the wise and the righteous also see themselves as seekers as well. We must remain like children, right? Aren’t they the best questioners and seekers around? I understand that not everyone wants to be or has the time to be. Discussing that sideswipes the issue. I think Covid isn’t just a virus to fear or a time in a weird year that screwed up everything or a weird scheme to adjust the population or the conspiracy of a political party, but a chance for the church, for the people that go to church and call Jesus their Savior to have the time to listen and to seek and to renew their minds and to let go and release things that keep them caught up, weighed down, and looking no different than the rest of the hurting world, so that they can be free and at peace and full of joy with energy and compassion enough to actually make a difference in the world. I think that is a pretty good idea of the concept of The Great Commission because it would mean the people sharing and helping would have been on a journey with a God who had changed them too, not just a person telling someone to join a club that they belong to that doesn’t really change them or their lives more than to fill their weekly calendars. We must be called higher! And I’m here to say it is has been my lesson and it is my passion and dare I say gift that tends to see things that need a fixin’ and a cleanin’. And I’m sharing what I’ve learned and what I see.

I am also sharing two songs that have really come to my attention this week. The first one is the title of the blog. And I know some people may think it is sacrilegious, but I’m printing these lyrics to post in our home. It is how I want people to feel in our home and at church these days and it is a newer song. The other is one is an “oldie” someone sent me the lyrics to the other day knowing what I was going through. Both might have something to say to someone who might be reading. They both have references to art, course. I know they meant something to me! Enjoy!