And His Name Will Be Called

Winter is descending on Kansas City and December brings with it the shadow of hope that a season might warm me. But the Lights and traditions and the warmth which comes from deep-heart celebration are ancillary.

I have to find the heat source, says my heart, after the Christmas tree lights have timed-off for the evening and the furnace is set to sleep mode.

The inn held a beauty, a fascination, a wonder which broke open the sky, offered to peel back the veil over my stale heart and release the deep sigh of fulfillment which generations of waiting hearts have endured. Holy unexpected.

And that very beauty — the wonder of that night, the birthing of promise, the revelation of true joy — is accessible to me. Now. A voice wants to speak over my day, mundane — but wonder interrupts. Amid paint project stains, broken glass from slippery fingers and laundry unending, I can be like those shepherds at night. Awestruck. Overwhelmed.

Lost and fulfilled, all at the same moment, inside of that true heat source.

Adoration moves my life from mundane to extraordinary, all while at my kitchen sink.

The inn is available to me.

(Each Monday, the column of adoration to the right-side of my blog moves front-and-center, here, and I invite others who are doing the same — stretching their heart to lift God’s Word up and back to Him, despite every obstacle the day presents — to add their link below in the comments section. You can link people back here from your post by grabbing the code on the right side of my blog. If you don’t have a blog but are, yourself, a lover of words and of God and of God’s word, feel free to add an adoration of your own in the comment section. Whether there is one of us or one hundred — and even if the words are written “merely” on our hearts — we will give Him the praise He’s due.)

And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  Isaiah 9:6**

Oh God, as simple as You have made Yourself to me — accessible —  the expanse of Your character and nature is unending. I barely know You. Your complexity allures me.

Jesus, when I need wonder to fascinate my dull heart, You show Yourself wonderful. You dazzle. You surprise. You speak to the child side of me with ancient Truths that are made new for me at that moment. You wear the wrinkle of ages, God, but are so fresh to my understand when I just ask.

When I sit lost in what next or what now or how, God, You show Yourself counselor. You respond to questions I never knew I had and counsel broken parts of me I’d been walking on as healed. You make my crooked places straight, all with a Word. Your Word and Your Spirit align to gently shepherd my wandering heart.

When I feel weak, You promise might. I draw from a well which is not mine and walk away quenched. You pour over even my sin with hues of redemption. Even my worst moments, in heart and deed, aren’t too strong for the mighty-side of God. Lord, when I am at the worst of me, I have opportunity to see the best of You. You are defining Your might for me through my life.

This child who feels like this one last thing might just push You over the edge, push You away, finds Father. You define for me family, leadership, headship by Your gentle manner. You lead, steadfast. You lead in humility. You teach while You hold. This mother, overloaded at times, has hourly opportunities to be daughter, only because You are Father.

Peace for the broken places scattered across the globe and peace for all that’s surfacing inside my home and inside my heart. You offer peace. You are the creator of peace and its distributor, its leader. Did I ever realize I needed peace, until I brushed up against Peace? You bid me entry to a state of heart I might otherwise have overlooked, until I stared into Your peace. I see peace and I want peace. I want You. I want all that drips from Your person.

To think I could live a whole lifetime in only broad brushstroke understandings of You, when Your Word and Your Spirit collide to show me the secret passageway. Hidden slightly from the naked eye, a moment of searching reveals that there’s a world of You yet undiscovered. Oh, Father, I thank You that insight into You is unending, that every day is unfolding new dimensions of You to me. I praise You for Your complexity.

You write on my simple mind with heavenly, holy understandings of You. I sit in Your school and I don’t want this day to end. You drop words like water on my desert, and I didn’t even know I was thirsty until I took one drink.

God, unfold more of Yourself to me. I can’t take a taste and walk away.

**For a context to this little space on my blog, read: Why I Adore. You can easily subscribe to these devotional meditations as they are delivered, by using this feed: or by entering your email address in the second box on the right-hand side… (scroll up a bit).