I took a few steps forward and quickly ascertained 2 sprawled on my couch fully engaged in the pose that the
XO and I (enter sarcasm) affectionately refer to as ~ laying haphazardly about, staring at the wall with mouth slightly ajar, who are we kidding the mouth is completely ajar, and doing absolutely NOTHING! I begin to hear the few bubbles start to roll, the early warning sounds of the blood boiling over. I step lively through the danger zone and survive another yard or two before I notice another lackadaisically doodling over a school notebook. A worthy occupation from an eye-hand coordination perspective ~ when you are 6. This one is 13. A few more bubbles roll through my inner man and their warning bells warn ever more loudly in my ears. I step forward to flee this volatile scene and before my foot befalls the floor I see another, dead ahead completely absorbed in a similar stance as my first 2 sprawled on the couch were. There is but on slight variation ~ she stands leaning against the dresser, staring at the wall, mouth completely ajar. The din in my ears now resembles a rushing wind and the wind is ushering in some seriously large quantities of boiling blood ~ I must move quickly now before ALL is lost. I take step right and move towards the kitchen, a cup of tea might save us all. But alas, there are 3 crowding the kitchen all participating in another favorite pastime ~ bickering. I accelerate speed and move straight through the kitchen to be met by a swinging door. Another has entered through the back stairwell and immediately begins to throw 2 or 3 signs at me in an incoherent and entirely incorrect attempt at sign language. It is virtually impossible to understand, the equivalent to baby babble in sign language but a baby is not standing before me, no a young person of 15 years who has chosen to NOT study their first language for the first 15 years of their life. The boiling blood is at a dangerously high level and ALL system warnings are blaring in my head. For the sake of ALL humanity I must flee this situation! I make a hard right and literally sprint the yard and a half and lay my hand on the handle ~ the handle that opens me into my saving grace, my secret place! And just a slight turn right and then I can hide out of sight. I lovingly turn the handle - clink. LOCKED! CRAP! The bathrooms are always FULL in this house! I try again, praying it was some cruel mistake - clink. Still locked. And then the darkness crowds deeper and I know the truth of the locked bathroom door and it is seeping out from under the door. My stomach rolls in a new way and I stifle a dry heave but I am frozen because the one has followed, now he is directly behind me, still using the same 2 or 3 signs, just now on repeat, and no, they still do not make any sense! And the 2 who started this whole debacle have now shifted their staring eyes to staring at me, not to worry though, their mouths are still ajar. The doodling pencil falls silent as it lays still and this one is staring as well (yes, mouth ajar). Apparently the leaning starer is quite engrossed in the wall because her eyes do not fall on me, yet. But, now as I stand frozen in my own rage, a new layer of hazy fog descends on me for the bickering three? Are now moving towards me! Referee, they expect me to be. I now have one last hope, it will take courage, discipline and swiftness of feet. I release handle, my eyes fall directly to the floor and in a split second I turn and sprint (no, this is untrue, our house is WAY too tiny to run in, that is extremely dangerous. So, I speed walk, I power walk as if my life depended on it. I speed walk arms full swing @ 90 degrees @ the elbow, hips moving right, left, right, left and I power walk as no mother has ever power walked before!) I hear the bickerers behind in hot pursuit, the incoherent signer follows as well, the starers try to bring me down with their eyes but I am survivor! I burst through my bedroom door, only steps from another secret place. I took the 5 steps it takes to clear our tiny room and once again my hand rested on the handle to freedom ~ slight twist right. CLINK! CRAP!
You see we share our commode with 6 young women and statistically speaking the odds are stacked against me finding my hiding place unoccupied.
I was trapped and as I stood there with my hand resting on the locked door the truth was apparent - my own home is my prison. I am in PRISON and God put me here. Yes, you heard me - I live in a prison and God placed me here.
And multiple times throughout my everyday the truth of my reality hits me upside the head like a sledgehammer to the temple.
PRISON.
~
This morning while my 9 wardens took their repose, I prayed ~
"Jesus, I do not like my prison. What law did I break to wind up here? I am not sure I can take another day in jail."
He and I, we talk honestly ~ I often wait for the bolt of lightening to rip through the walls of my cell but alas, He does love me and forgives me.
I opened my Bible to Jeremiah 33:3 for I wanted to think about something good, to meditate on the Word not my messed up world.
Jeremiah 33:3 ~ "Call the Me and I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you have not known."
I had been study 33:3 for the past several days but today gracious God spoke a grace-filled Word.
"Read the first two verses of chapter 33 ~ you do not have the whole story." - God
Jeremiah 33:1 ~ "Moreover the word of the Lord came to Jeremiah a second time while he was still
shut up in the court of the PRISON, saying . . . "
Shut the front door! Jeremiah was in PRISON! I felt a pang of guilt as I rejoiced over Jeremiah's imprisonment
but his captivity spoke volumes to my freedom!
Jeremiah heard great and mighty things that he had not known in PRISON!
I can not rightly articulate the joy and freedom I felt in those words ~ shut up in the court of prison ~ Jesus speaks to us in our prisons. Just as Joseph was placed in prison by God to save his people and Jeremiah heard God's great and mighty voice ~ I too am placed in this cell.
Here is my task ~ to not allow the voices of resentment that rise in my thinking to overshadow the voice of God. To take every thought captive that speaks to grumbling or complaining so that I can hear the goodness of Him. To joyfully and faithfully occupy this prison cell He has so lovingly placed me in.
Why did He put me in prison? I don't know, maybe He has great and mighty things to tell me! Exciting!
What prisons is He lovingly trying to place you in but you are resisting? What prison are you in
but constantly struggling to break free from? What cell do you occupy with resentment and grumbling as your cell mates?
We as the Western church believe God would never place us in prison. Jeremiah and Joseph would likely disagree. Many persecuted believers around the globe would take issue with that as well. And truth be told, so do I. This is a God-given prison I live in and it is gift, great gift.
Stop struggling against your cell walls and hear the great and mighty things you have not known.
