Rest.

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“You’ve really gotten serious about relaxing.”

The comment caught me off guard. My time at home had always been sacred. “What do you mean?”

He blinked. “With your new hammock and all.”

And all. The past few weeks, I’ve been pouring time into reading “Crazy Love” as most of you know. Filming is on hiatus so I’m getting to enjoy it just for me. No audience to impress. No co-discussion hosts to banter with. Just me and every blue moon, my small group. The book digs deep into what it means to be lukewarm and what your faith should look like.

Lukewarm people focus on being comfortable.

That’s the one that shot straight to my heart. I’ve been working hard to create that Third Place. Somewhere between the dust and the heat, I want laughter to echo in the yard, causing the limbs on the Live Oaks to shake. Chinese lanterns creating a warm glow on earth, projector whirring, inviting people to escape. The aroma of meat and sauces coming from the BBQ. Pillows piled on the lawn blankets. Such a cozy scene. In my mind, its populated with people. Not pretty people. Interesting people. The kind you would find esconced in photography blogs. Personality shining through their eyes and crooked grins. Laughter rings like the Liberty Bell. Everything is lovely.

Anna was the one who clued me in on a little secret. You cannot expect to be loved without first loving others. Community springs up when time and compassion come to visit.

Sometimes when I think about creating this personal slice of Sangri-La, I wonder if Jesus would be happy. None of the people I have over are particularly poor. None are homeless. They aren’t the “leasts” in any way.

I believe it was Mother Teresa who said that the worst form of poverty is poverty of the heart – to feel unloved.

Everyone craves community. To be known. To be drawn out, delighted in, and affirmed. To experience lovingkindness.

So that’s what I’m going to try to do. If Jesus could invite others into rest, I can try too.

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