The Blue Jay House

I hated it. Everything about it. It was old, small, and smelt bad. Those three things, alone, could have been deal killers for any non-desperate person. But not us. Consider us to have been desperate, because after weeks of house searching - and extremely tight parameters inputted on realtor apps - we succumbed to the fact that this was literally the only house we could afford in Lakeway. How was a family of five supposed to live in a 1700 sq. ft. house anyway? I thought - as I signed the dotted line with a forced smile on my face. Despite all of the qualms I had with the house, I forced myself to accept the fact that our life was in the beginning phase of change, and I needed to put on my big girl pants and deal with it. My husband had changed career paths completely to take a job working for my brother (albeit in a city where driving a BMW or a Jag is completely normal), and I was still stay-at-home mom-ing it with my three boys under the age of 4 years old. The Blue Jay house was not my first choice, by any means, but it was the only available option if we wanted a shot in this city.

I tried hard to make it work. I had the exterior painted and put up new window treatments. We bought some new furniture (a Target special), and slapped some paint on the walls. It was all great...temporarily. Overtime, however, the facts about the house didn’t change. It was still old. It was still small. And it still smelled (fresh paint only lasts a little while when up against four smelly boys). The Blue Jay house, whether I wanted to admit it or not, mirrored the condition of my life. I tried really hard to “make it work” by filling it with unsustainable things. I lived life from one impulse to another, and I didn’t really think all that much about consequences and things like… the future. I lived for me and no one else. I looked to things like alcohol, drugs, parties, lusting after men that weren’t my husband, constantly wanting what other people had, and putting the needs of people over my own family (and myself) to fill my deepest unmet desire: To feel loved. Just like no amount of paint, furniture, and window treatments could fix the facts surrounding the Blue Jay house, no amount of fancy clothes, nice things (that I couldn’t afford), alcohol, and parties could fix the posture of my heart.

We had been in the old house for about a year when my dead heart first started feeling the subtle thumps of revival. My husband and I had gone out to a bar with some new friends the night before. All I really remember from the night was throwing up all over the side of whatever car took me home, and Mike running home barefoot. This was typically the norm whenever we would go out and drink (don’t ask). Around 11 o’clock the next morning, in that semi-conscious state of being awake but not really, I heard a voice. When are you going to follow me? The voice asked. My blood shot eyes shot open and I jumped out of bed. I could hear my boys in the kitchen struggling to make themselves waffles, and I knew the voice I heard wasn’t them. I knew exactly who it was. Even though I didn’t know Jesus at this time, I knew of Him. My parents raised me in the church, and my grandparents spoke of Him quite often. The knowledge of His existence didn’t elude me. I just simply chose to follow what I could see, feel, hear, and touch over an invisible God. The things that have never satisfied, and will never satisfy, were all too shiny and follow worthy than someone I didn’t really know, or care to know, for that matter.

It wouldn’t be for another year that the echo of His question, and my own rock bottom, would eventually resuscitate my heart; and I would get on my knees in the Blue Jay house and surrender my way of living for His. In the Blue Jay house is where He would lift my chin off my chest and wipe the tears from my eyes and tell me, through His word, that He created me. That I shouldn’t be afraid because He has redeemed me. He has called me by name, and I am His. That His love for me is unconditional and doesn’t change, and He has loved me before I was born.

What once stood as a dingy old master bathroom - where I would shudder every time I walked in - became my beloved battle ground where Christ in me would claim victory against the spiritual forces of evil that had tried (for 33 years) to steal my life. I no longer cared what the house looked like or what shade of paint was colored on the walls. With sharpie in hand, I wrote scripture on those old, dusty walls of my master bathroom and came to know the one who had been relentlessly pursuing me my entire life: Jesus Christ.

After that, everything looked different. The first difference I noticed was that a sunny day actually felt sunny. The sun was shining! Where was it before? When I was living in the dark, even the sunniest of days felt cloudy. Then my desires shifted. I no longer cared about going to the party on Friday night. I just wanted to stay home with my husband and boys. I stopped striving. My need for material possessions, popularity, and the “next best thing” seemed to dissipate compared to what I’d found. The things I had previously pursued didn’t hold a candle to the ultimate satisfaction found in placing my faith in Jesus. This satisfaction I’ve found has yet to run dry. And wouldn’t you know, I ended up loving the Blue Jay house. I still do. When it was time to put it up for sale and leave it, I cried. Although the hope I had found in that house would be enough to last to eternity and beyond, I was still sad to leave a place that aided in such a radical transformation as this. I prayed fervently that God would use Blue Jay to do for the next owners what it did to me.

I had it in my mind that I wouldn’t write another blog post until 2020, but God laid it on my heart to tell you this: JESUS IS THE ONLY THING THAT SATISFIES. If there was something else out there, I would have found it by now...trust me. There’s only one that can take that empty jar you’ve been pouring out of and fill it with living water. It’s Him. He’s the only one. Only Jesus can do that. Maybe you’re striving to gain popularity or a “following” because you think that will bring you joy. Or climbing the corporate ladder will fulfill your deepest desires and set you up for success. Perhaps you’ve been relying on a substance to fill a hole that can never be filled; or an addiction that has got you defeated. I’m here to tell you, set it down friend. Know that you are being pursued by a God that loves you unconditionally. That calls you by name. That has redeemed you. He went to Calvary and bled out FOR YOU. He did that FOR YOU.

I don’t know the Jesus you’ve been taught. But my Jesus loves unconditionally. He doesn’t care a thing about religion, outward appearances, politics, or the like. He looks at hearts, and He’s patient. Oh so patient. He’ll leave the 99 to find the 1. He did that for me, and He’ll do that for you. I don’t want you to live another second not knowing who YOU belong to. Who created you. Who made you on purpose and for a purpose. You are not here by accident or coincidence. You are here because the Creator of the universe hand selected and crafted you for such a time as this, and He CHOSE YOU. He chooses you today, tomorrow, and forever. He’ll keep choosing you even if you keep choosing the world. As we approach the dawn of a new decade, I’d ask you to consider answering the same question He asked me: When will you follow Him? And then I'd encourage you to set the world and the things of it down, my friend, and take hold of the only thing that brings lasting satisfaction: Jesus.