can't get enough

why the Lord is excited about the parts that bore us

It is fall, so all I want to talk to you about is books, pencils, notebooks, crunchy leaves, cats, and coffee.

And garden harvests.

And knitting.

And the fog, don’t forget the fog...drifting through trees and wafting through the yard.

It feels like I can’t get enough of these because fall in Alaska is a blip, a blink. But I actually do lean pretty hard into cozy stuff, and if you’ve been reading here for more than five minutes you already know that. So I’m not fooling anyone. I talk about them no matter what time of year...fall is just a good excuse.

You know how we overshare the things we’re really excited about? We rave about our latest projects, our big endeavors, the latest bee in our bonnet. If you come over and complement the granny square blanket I’ve been crocheting for the last few years, I will accidentally tell you all about the fiber content, where I sourced the yarn, and how I really need to find some grey worsted wool at the thrift store so I can finish it.

If you catch someone on one of their favorite subjects, they might test both your attention span and your good manners as you look for the nearest exit. Sorry.

So hey, speaking of testing our attention spans and looking for exits, I’ve been in Exodus again and I’m way past the interesting parts about Pharaoh, the plagues, and the deliverance. I’m in the long tail at the end that gets way less views, the part people are tempted to skip because it details fascinating things like priestly vestments (oooh) and curtains (ahhh) and pillars (gasp, you don’t say!) and fancy clothing which I promise you have never seen at Target.

Not your thing? Welll...could we perhaps interest you in some engravings and cubits? Some rings, or cords, or embroidered tunics?

No, no, we say, I’m so sorry but I can’t stay another minute, I’ve got to go, as though we’re trying to shut down a persistent telemarketer who insists upon reading us the script from a nonprofit we haven’t given to in 27 years.

Hmmm, vestments and ephods. Our eyes start to glaze over, the lines blur. These are not, for most of us, the eccentric passions that intrigue us.

We flip pages, wondering how much longer this section is. Are we there yet? But wait, there’s more: offerings and altars and basins, oh my.

Huh. We know this all must be important for some reason because it’s in the Bible...but this is odd, chin-stroking stuff.

What does it tell us?

The Lord is extremely excited about the Tabernacle.

And well, okay, everyone has their little quirks (I noticed there’s quite a bit of yarn mentioned in this section, so there’s that, at least) but why is all of this so important for us today, right now? What are we supposed to be getting out of it?

Fast forward, skip to the end, and here’s part of the answer:

Moses did everything just as the Lord had commanded him.

– Exodus 40:16

We start to see something important here. There’s obedience, and attention to details.

And then this:

In the first month in the second year, on the first day of the month, the tabernacle was set up.

– Exodus 40:17

We also see timing and completion. This wasn’t instant gratification; this was an intricate process with an attainable vision.

Skip a little more for the finale:

Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle.

– Exodus 40:34

And now we find the real obsession: It was His presence with us.

This is where the Lord would dwell to lead and guide His people.

Now, of course, we are the Temple, the Holy of Holies where He dwells.

And we are the place He’s extremely excited about.

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In class, we’ve been talking about loving those around us. In so doing, we reviewed the five love languages and I’ve discovered mine are not what I always thought they were.

I always thought I was an Acts of Service person, but honestly, for 20-some years (or about as long as it’s been since we donated to that non-profit) I’ve just been an exhausted mom. Pleeeeease do something for me. I haven’t really slept since February, and the last time I had the margin to hear my own thoughts without interruption, the year started with 19 instead of 20.

That’s not really a love language. That’s motherhood.

If love languages could be identified by the things we’re really excited about, it would be so much easier to figure them out. Oh, you’re a Sports and Guns person? Awesome. My main love language is Memes, but Sushi is a close second.

For some of us, it takes a while to get to know ourselves, much less those around us. Sometimes we know those around us more than we know ourselves. Sometimes we forget who we are until we’re around the right people, reading the right things, hearing the right words, and we see ourselves clearly again in those reflections.

We think to ourselves, Oh, there I am...that resonates. That feels like home.

All this time, maybe we thought we were a Fluffy Polyester Blanket/Pumpkin Spice Latte/Hallmark Movie person because that’s what we grew up with. But then we bravely tried new things, and discovered we were actually a Plaid Wool Blanket/Chai Tea/British Lit person.

I did not know myself until I bothered to look deeper and wider than what I had always assumed and been familiar with.

When we look to the Lord’s leading instead of our own autopilot, we find out who we really are. We learn what we’re made of, and what we’re made for.

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Back toward the end of Exodus, we see offerings, sacrifices, hins of wine (wait, what is a hin?), oil, and incense. I’m skipping quite a bit here; there’s also so much about giving, creativity, skill sets, and community.

And for those who have eyes to see, there’s also yarn.

SO. MUCH. YARN.

(Curtains of goats’ hair! Maybe that doesn’t sound appealing, but consider how it would read on an Etsy listing: “handmade drapery, woven from the finest angora...”)

It was not a casual thing to prepare the way for us to be in His presence. God is showing us that in Kingdom culture, we don’t sweep things under the rug, and He is dealing with the situation, the sin, the elephants in our rooms.

The Lord is uncomfortably assertive in addressing what we’d rather brush aside and ignore, because He doesn’t want any debris between us. He’s not into awkward pretending, fakey niceness, or passive aggression. He deals directly with us because He’s not insecure in our relationship and He doesn’t want us to be, either.

His presence is important because He is the right person with the right words for us. He wants us to know clearly who we are, and to see ourselves in Him, so we can know who (and Who) we’re dealing with.

For closeness and intimacy. To remove the barrier. Oh, there I am. That resonates. This is home.

All of the details, the sacrifices, the fire – it’s not just for us, but for our descendants, for generations to come, so they inherit strength and not weakness.

It shall be a regular burnt offering throughout your generations at the entrance of the tent of meeting before the Lord, where I will meet with you, to speak to you there.

– Exodus 29:42

It all looks ahead to the Lamb who fulfilled everything.

This is the extent He went to for us to be with Him – the hoops to jump through, the code that had to be cracked, the restitution required, the ransom paid, the pomp and circumstance necessary after the enemy’s infiltration.

Do you know the way in, or did you climb in over the wall? Do you know the password, or are you a spy, a thief, someone breaking in? Because we have certain ways of doing things, and they’re beautiful once you understand them.

And do you know that the requirements and trappings and accoutrements have already been paid for, and all that is left of us is to be the living sacrifice, resting in Him, because we are also now the Temple where He resides?

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, on the basis of God’s mercy, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your reasonable act of worship.

– Romans 12:1

There’s so much more to be found when we persist in what seems dull and we keep coming back anyway. Even the hem of the robe, fringed with bells and pomegranates, was a constant reminder of who He made us to be: the fruit and the sound, our purpose and our worship, His creation and our works, the nourishment and the music of those who’ve partaken in it.

This is not a one-way street or solo endeavor, He’s telling us. There is partnership intertwined all throughout this and you’ll be reminded of it with every step you take as you hear the bells ringing.

The Lord is always speaking, whether or not we are currently understanding or even listening. He’s not silent; we’ve just been numbed to subtleties and bored by anything that isn’t shiny and takes longer than five seconds. How much farther? Are we there yet? we wonder, as we turn the sticky pages.

We’ve been there all along. We just needed the eyes to see: the things He gave us to love, the reflection of Him everywhere, the stuff He made us to get excited about, the fog drifting through the trees.

So we keep coming, because He keeps pursuing. We keep coming back, because He never left.

We keep listening, because He never stopped talking. We love because He first loved us. And we seek His presence because He first sought ours, and for some reason He still can’t get enough of us.