Jesus, Me, and Lawn Furniture

Two weeks ago at New Day, a leader in the congregation shared a revelation he'd had from the Lord regarding certain members of the church and where their hearts were postured. The Lord began by giving him an image in the spirit of an outdoor area - like a patio or a courtyard. It was a beautiful place, with a fountain and stones and sunshine, but it was absolutely full of the most hideous lawn furniture imaginable. Wicker sofas, neon umbrellas, plastic pillars, fake flowers, inflatable chairs - they were all there. In fact, there was so many of these tacky outdoor accessories that one could hardly stand on the patio at all. It was anything but a tasteful and enjoyable place to spend time.

This leader went on to explain that he felt that this patio represented the hearts of many in the congregation - places that have become overrun with overwhelming externals - things like the worries of life, relational offenses, religious performance and regulations, busyness, or just boredom. "In fact," he continued, "There is so much junk that many of you don't even want to go outside anymore. You've taken one look at that patio and walked in the other direction. You don't even want to go there."

The ironic thing is that the patio had so much beauty beneath the clutter. It was designed to be a place to enjoy the outdoors. It was meant to be a fun place; a place to breathe fresh air and feel the cool breeze. Instead, it had become downright ugly.

The second image the Lord gave him was of the same patio, only this time it was empty. No lawn furniture in sight. Just green grass, flowers, stones, and a fountain in the middle. He said the view was beautiful. It was so simple, elegant, and enjoyable. The kind of place where you could just sit for hours at a time.

The images and words this leader shared have really stuck with me for the past two weeks. I don't know who else in that little church needed to hear it, but I know that I did. It was a word for me. It's a snapshot of my heart - a place that was designed for simple communion with God, but has become cluttered to the point where I don't even want to go 'outside' anymore. Things like disillusionment with church culture, misunderstanding, offense, loneliness, and boredom have all but covered up my patio. The invitation now is to clean house.

As I choose to let go of these stumbling blocks, I'm beginning to clear the patio and rediscover the stone floor. It's so like the Devil to take the most beautiful thing in creation - knowing God - and dress it up until it looks like a chore. I've played the fool and I've believed that the plastic pillars and the neon umbrellas belonged there on that patio - that they were part of the deal. What I've forgotten is the most basic truth: that God is beautiful, and that my heart was meant first and foremost to be an enjoyable place where I could spend time in the great outdoors.

So, I'm trying to humble myself and to do the "first things" again. Things like reading the Bible because I actually want to. Praying. Taking walks. Forgetting the lofty things and shelving the hard questions for now. Clearing space. Abiding in the vine. Taking it slow. Going outside.