Friday, February 2, 2018


We sat together in the prison. 
The ladies in Lowu Prison are from all over the world, I'm from a farm in America. They wear prison uniforms, I wear colorful clothes I think they'll like. 

 This Sunday, the 4th Sunday of every month, everyone looks forward to. We sit together in the prison room and hug and sing and pray and learn.

 I got to share the message last week, and summed up, it went like this; God says our names. He says them, He sings them, He enjoys them, He's permanently marked them into His Hands as artwork. 

Me and my friends in prison, and you, we're all craving the same kind of stuff. Someone to know us, love us, make a home with us. 

God put that craving there. He's the one, and the only one, who can satisfy it. 

After the message, I sat in a small group with a handful of ladies from Kenya and Tanzania and we talked about names and God saying our's and their favorite name to be called and how we all miss our homes. We didn't mean to, but "home" just came up in our conversation. I think that's because when we start talking about people who know our names and enjoy us, "home" is the best way to describe it. "Home" is the craving. 

"I've not been home in five years," one of the ladies told me. 
"Can you imagine?" she asked. 
No, I can't. I went 10 months without going home and didn't know if I'd survive the ninth month. 

But God's teaching me and the ladies in prison the same things, He's made our hearts His home. He loves dwelling with us in our hearts' secret chambers. The inside of us, the place where we really live that no one else can see, it's the space God made for Himself to build a really nice home. A let's-be-together home. Cozy, enjoyable,  intimate. Whether we're in a prison in Hong Kong or on a farm in America, the home that our Maker is building inside of us, it can satisfy our cravings. 

I've been sketching cottages lately. Talking to God about the home He's building out of my heart, it's got me thinking about what it may look like to Him. It's the place where we see each other, where I hear Him say my name, where He sings over me, where He makes love grow. I think He sees it as a pretty cottage. Not perfect, not done, but pretty. And home. 

He gazes into my soul, 
peering through the portal as He blossoms within my heart. 
-Song of Solomon 2:9

* Isaiah 49:16, Luke 19:5, Luke 22:31-32, John 20:16, Luke 10:38-42
He really is the God who calls our names