I miss the farm. The one where I used to go every Friday morning, for months, and spend intimate moments in prayer and conversation with God, up until around mid-April this year. We would sit at a skilfully crafted table, and me on a throne-like chair, on the veranda of the events venue called Our Place. I would journal His heart whispers, and relate to Him my dreams and hopes and deep, unending love for Him and eagerness to live only for His glory.
The words Our Place have become synonymous with intimacy and deep truth shared between me and Yahweh over a period of time in which I would bare my soul – in nakedness – before Him. And He would embrace my being and reveal the holiest of mysteries from His heart to me.
But Our Place didn’t become our place only once I started having tea-time with Pappi on the farm. It started many months before, with fierce desire in my soul to be freer in my worship of my King.
There was a time when I would go for 2-4 km walks on the beach and reflect and converse honestly with God about my most tender thoughts and emotions. And about my earnest need for more of Him.
We would share secrets, like lovers do – me whispering from my soul into His heart the joy and delight I find in Him, and He whispering back into my heart the joy and delight He finds in me. We pursued each other’s hearts. It was a time of sacred laughter, tenderness, romance, flirtation and freedom!
Also, a time of spiritual maturing for me – lessons learned in the classroom of all things glorious in creation sculpted by the hand of God. Where He would share with me each one of His dreams for my life, and I would respond in awe, with excitement, and an almost girlish squeal. For each dream declared, He would prompt me to take up a pebble from the sand to paint and decorate and name for that dream.
I still hold my pebbles in my hand and in my heart.
We bonded. We explored. We engaged in the great adventure of becoming one with each other, with the sun and clouds and passers-by bearing witness to our wild, intense romance.
I loved these walks: the sand gently exfoliating the skin on my feet, the sun softly kissing my face, and the sea – oh, yes, the sea – roaring fiercely and then carefully breaking its force to come and huddle around my legs and bring relief from the heat of the sun.
I miss our beach walks, too. The first of our sacred spaces we name Our Place.
I have a great love for the sea – the ocean waves – and it was always the water that lured me back each time, when my soul longed for freedom from the walls of my home that often seemed to be caving in on me. This freedom wooed me back each time into the arms of the Lover of my soul, and the Giver of life to me.
And then – suddenly – it came to an end.
I was walking along, with feet embedded in the cool resilience of the ocean water, when I asked God why it seemed so different today. I asked Him why He was so distant and silent. And even as I asked these questions, I sensed Him saying that our season here was at an end. The lessons He needed to teach me, were now all lessons learned. It was time to move into a new season and a higher level of maturity.
We also had to move on to a new sacred space that we could call Our Place. We moved to the farm.
But I haven’t been back for months. Not since I’ve returned from my trip to Israel in May.
When I returned from Israel, most of my life changed. The focus became healing from a leaky gut that was affecting my life in every way. I couldn’t move too far from home, because I became too fatigued and had to rest and often sleep in the afternoon. Hence, I had to ensure that my daily chores were done in the morning. Gone was my weekly ritual of having tea time at the farm with my Pappi.
Yet, all is not lost. I am healing. I am growing stronger.
In the meantime, though, Yahweh has been urging me on to yet another venue to call Our Place – my study, in my home. The place where we share a deeper intimacy in quietness and trust. Where I run into the arms of my Father in broken-heartedness when the world has come against me. The place where we excavate the exquisite beauty of His Word, together, and celebrate revelations of His heart and wisdom gained by the guidance and teaching of my King. A sacred space where we weep together, yearn together, dream together, for the glory of righteousness and justice – for the healing and restoration work of love and Truth.
So, now I’m revamping the study. I’m bringing in a vision board to keep me focused on our dreams and goals. I’m placing frames up on the walls that hold the evidence of promises kept. I’m bringing in Scripture dear to our hearts and a bottle of tears to remind me that He keeps all my tears in His.
And I’m naming this space: Our Place.