Rich Faith Rising

What if?

2012-02-23T10:50:00.001-08:00

Faith. The faith fight. The topic of my life. Yet, faith is believing in something we can't see.

But, what if....

What we see....with spiritual eyes....has. Is. Has always been....more real than what we see with the flesh?

What if the temporal is more like a box we're trapped in?

.....And we mourn for and ache for and long to be present with God....because we have already tasted of heaven?

What if.....we were here, simply to fulfill whatever work God has called to be finish....

Reluctantly.

What if heaven. Yes, that seemingly far off place we share with children. That hope for tomorrow. That promise for more....

Is not just a scribbled picture in our child's Sunday School Bible we read before sleeping?

What if heaven.....is in us? Through us? Among us?

What if eternity has never really left us.....From the time of conception?

What if this world is just Dejavu? What if...in us...in the back of our mind....there are imprints of a life that is much more permanent.....

Than that metal Mercedes? And plastic house? And t.v. like plays of what others say our life should be about?

What if we were made for freedom? Like all of creation? Somehow hindered by man's interpretation of the world we live in?

Like scientist and environmentalist.....attempting help.....by isolating species....caging the extinct...in hopes to preserve that God creation that is somehow in us?

What if our attempts at fixing. Changing. Learning. Are in somehow, simple ways, that we isolate God....

So that we can better understand Him? Put our mind around Him? Shrink God to fit in the palm of our hand?

When His ways are limitless. His magnificent has no understanding.

What if God cannot be contained.....in the minds of men? What if He reigns beyond where man made space ships can even go?

What if the heart of all men.....beat with His heart....yet, sin alone....has polluted it?

And our attempts to correct, restore, redeem ourselves.....are just vain attempts....

Without the blood of Jesus.

What if, this isn't our home? What if we could close our eyes. See. Taste. So much more?

Bigger?

A greater life. One with only strength....not man-made.....but, originating from it's source. God.

What if we left this place? And each day....on our knees? Gathered strength from Him....before starting our day....

Would anything change?

I ask. Wonder.

Hope for the world....that it would be so.

Closing my eyes to escape. Longing more as the days progress and approach.....

For faith that sees.

Eyes that know.

Walking On Water When The Storms of Life Surround You

2012-02-20T08:57:00.002-08:00

In the quiet. Out here. Where nothing can be heard. But the downpour of the fallen. The crackling and bolt of pain found deep in the storm now.

And I close my eyes to see His face. For the tranquil waters of yesterdays have passed......And no open sky lies before me. Only clouds. Clouds of my heart refusing to part to further pain.

And in this silent place. It is here where true faith finds me.

This place where no eyes can see the Promised Land. No flesh can taste the essence of Him. And on the skin is only the wind and sting of so many things keeping me.....in the eye of the storm.

Yet, it is here in this darkest hour, where the world of the soul opens. And eternity becomes all we are striving for.

And the ships that pass and toot their horns.....and the vessels of grandiose......seem only vain......Having absolutely no appeal anymore.

And it is here where Jesus walks on water.

So, I close my eyes of my soul to meet Him. His voice calling from this boat of doubters. He is present as the world looks at the downcast skies. Darkness overhead. And says....."We all are lost". It is hear the eyes of The Only Saving Grace can fully help us.

And I reach. And step. And long for Him all the greater.....as he welcomes me nearer The Father' Heart.

But then, loved ones. I see them. Unlike the disciples who at least ventured out.

These ones...their ships still tied to shores of reason. As waves crash in their lives, surrounded by thunders of doubt....they have willingly welcomed.....

Refusing to let go.

Though the rope to land that they had thought would save them.....will actually keep them....flooding their gallows with the waters from the storm.

And oh how I want to help them. But, I have shifted my eyes from the Savior....to be the Savior.....far too often....

And it has only brought destruction.

So, I must, must trust....

The same one who calls me....calls them.

Reaching. Patiently. In love. Stilling the storm with His presence. Making a path of grace through the waters of life.....

In hopes that they might cut cords of pride.....

Trusting. Believing. Reaching for.....

The light in His eyes. The hope in His grip. The peace of His presence.

So, I pray, my friend. That as I touch His hand. And keep Him in the center of my storm....

I can whisper in His ear....your name too. So that He might run to you. Run to you.....carrying me. And severe the cord......the ones flesh and works and will had no power to. The cords keeping you back from the fullness of what God has promised you.....

Redeeming....a lifetime of weather.....by one touch of His hand.

He alone has the power. To free us from the land.....empowering us to walk on water.....

Though the rain may pound and the wind can knock us off our feet.....over and over again....

It is away from the shore. Out of the boat that we will find Him....

If we are willing......to cut the cord......look into His eyes.....

Get out of the boat.

And walk on water.

When God Calls

2012-02-11T09:06:00.001-08:00

I wake to the moon that just sung you goodnight. Recalling the bundle that I once held in my arms.

And how lassos and wishes and hearts can't hold you back.

A dream awakened. A calling placed.....in the ground like a seed....in the heart of you. Grown by God. Now bearing fruit.

And I am so proud.

That lies have not kept you. And my mother's heart had no influence.....Or I would have never let you go.

Though my dreams for you......those kneeling moments of hope.....have clearly awakened now.

And the world......like a vapor that doesn't last......has dissolved in faiths first steps.

Of that I am sure.

Outdoors preaching. And touching the scared hands.....of children in the sex slavery.

And how God expands hearts. As you witness the gospel come to life. The sick one's The Physician came for and died.

And He calls you to go out....like Timothy and Paul. To bring the Balm of Gilead....to a dying world.

Fearlessly. Away from home. Traveling in foreign land.

And I remember when you said......you didn't want to.....but you only had peace when you agreed to go to the Philippines.

And how God knew. A Typhoon was coming. And those hands knelt praying......Would be the very one's used in tangible ways. To pick up ashes. To mend lives. To be placed around the hearts of those most desperate for hope.

And how His Spirit shatters hearts made of stone, through gentle strokes of love and compassion from our fellow man.

And of this I am sure....His Spirit has awakened a God-man destined for this time...made for this very season.

And I have no regrets. That His Heart has captured you. That the next time I see you.....it will almost be a year since you left.

For, I know....though distant, and far, and separate from your mom...who borrowed you from God for eighteen years....

Your Father now must lead you.

For, there comes a time for us all that we must choose. Will we let The Father lead? Can and will we trust Him?

And I have always known.....you would head....His voice above the world.

For the feet of faith that now carry you......are the one's I washed and bathed...watching taking their very first steps.....

Now, by grace, are getting the chance......to walk in His holy, righteous steps.

And for this....I am thankful.

In The Arms of My Lord, on Humbled Knees

2012-02-09T09:34:00.001-08:00

Aging knees give no regard to hard wood floors. Blowing away dust of yesterday left to unfold.....

Nestling into that place where whispers waver and the voice of thunder shouts out His name.

And it is here. In this place.....that I finally let go.

Here. Alone.

Where questions and reason float from my soul.....

Making their way to The Heavenly Throne. So His blood can cover all lies with truth.

And instead of feeling small. Lost. Somehow all alone. I feel surrounded by His warmth. The tangible presence of a Savior protecting me.

And I hear. Music of Loved One.....Calling me.

Into further worship. Into that place where Heaven's pour down. Where no tears of yesterday can be found.

Erasing a lifetime of trying to redeem on my own.

And the shadows all scatter.

The sound of His glory shatters all faulty wishes and hope and dreams....that ever had weight....and lived apart from Him.

And He alone is all that matters. Here. Alone. Just Him.

This place. His voice. Where healing consumes and His breathe dissolves the world around....

And I am o.k.

Despite the pain......Despite the heartache.....Despite this charade that has been going on for years now.....

I am o.k. Here. Near His throne. Where His peace outweighs this earthly home.

And I cease.

Yes, I finally cease from striving. Here. Open arms. On knees. Up toward heaven....

Seeking to reach Him. Desperate to pull Him down. My Jacob soul.....wrestles for blessings now.....

Wrestles to be known.....in this fallen world.....by The One who made me. My Creator.

And with groans and moans and pleading cries...my heart is humbled. This place where mercy pours out from His throne.

And it is as if.......I can see Him. Reach Him. Though trapped in flesh in this plastic wrapped world.....

I can touch Him. Running so eagerly into the arms of The One who loved me enough to die for my freedom.....

And I keep Him.....close to my heart.....long after going about my worldly obligation.

That piece of heaven. There. Apart from here. Where all of life seems to come into perspective.

And my worries though big become unevident, to God..........in light of the cross......

And faith rise grows strong.....

Leaning on The One always found....

on humbled knees.

When His Shores Are Rest

2012-02-08T09:42:00.001-08:00

The beach beckons. Because indoors can't contain my soul cry that needs deliverance.

And I am lured to the water, as a wanderer through the dessert seeks desperately for life.

And I know quite well by now....the earth and it's foolishness never suffices.

It is only the Savior. The Creator. The One called to worship that can give peace through this storm....

And rest in the darkest of nights.

And I hold on tight to hope. For hope has been my thread that is now a tight woven rope....

Over the years keeping me when foundations fall and I am left dangling.

And I take hold of what I know....

My God is Good. He will never leave. He has never forsaken me.

And I keep His Words close to my heart....devouring, like food, every morning, noon, and night.

And somehow, in heartache. God's Word becomes so much more than some words on a page....

But alive....Someway. Stories which are my life. As if time and place.....have no distance anymore.

And I feel the faith of Daniel. Surrounded in the lions den. And how His faith kept Him....safe from destruction.

And Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego .....And oh, how I go with them into the fire.

Refusing to worship false Gods.....and images made for and worshiped by man.

And how.....somehow.....in a crazy.....illogical.......most incomprehensible way.....

The fire doesn't feel quite so hot. And I feel the Holy One here beside me.

As I reach down to grab rocks. And on this shore of question marks.....He somehow calls out....

"Come. Taste and see. The Lord is Good."

And even in these softened minerals. I see God. And remember how immovable He has been all along....despite the foolishness of man's ways.

And even in the sunset.....the children dart to......Seagulls rush too......

I see the Son of God.

And I wait along shore.....for tides to change. Yet, know they won't anytime soon.

And in wings of soaring creatures......I see faith. The faith that helped the early Christians.....when slain or tortured or beaten......

To sing in their pain. Rejoice through their suffering.

And I know grace......was not surprised by my circumstances. The enemy devours with the sword.....

But my Lord will win the battle.

And I let the silence witness to me. For words have been too frequent. The noise more than deafening.

And in this waiting.....

I witness......

The Father around me singing.

And I want to rest right here.....along the shores. Where small walls cannot consume me. Distractions and others infractions......are forgotten in His presence.

But, I must go.

Back to the world where sunsets don't drown the evening sky.

However, I know.....in time. As night has just begun in my life.

That the promise of the Father is in this dimming light. And soon.....after evenings light passes from my life.

The sun will shine again. Morning will come.

And in mornings......His mercies will cry....

"Get up oh stricken one.....and serve me with delight. A new day has come. You are my child. In you and with you is the Maker of all life."

And so, I shut my metal door. And enter my transportation to my temporal home.

Leave......

Taking the sunset with me. Holding tight...yes, ever so tight......to the hand of the Lord.

Clinging Desperately To Christ

2012-02-06T13:33:00.001-08:00

This last week has changed my life. The house of sticks that has been built over time....has been crumbling down.

And this heart once lost in innocence and trust and faith keeps battling against getting hard.

And it is as if........a Picasso piece that once was created. Slowly. Carefully. Painted by the hand of God....

Now is splattered....by permanent ink upon God's carefully painted work of art.

And I watch.....Ink slowly dripping down the canvas. And what once was priceless seems now as garbage.

And I wait. Because waiting is all I can do now.

Refusing the questions. Gripping tight to faith somehow.....even in this nightmare.

And even when unexpected coals paint the snow with torment...I do all I know to do......

Open God's Word. Journal. And search within the Holy Spirit inside me....

Finding truth that has been piercing lies for a long while now. Though I failed to see them.

And I hear and read two months ago....

"If I took everything away from you, would you still worship me? Would you still think I am good?"

And my mouth whispers "yes"....but my mind struggles with lies I have been told....

Like...

God is only good when everything goes well. God would never harm or hurt or make bad things happen to you.

And yet. That is so true. God doesn't seek to harm us....but gives us good.

But, then....there is the book of Job? Did He deserve all the things that happened to him?

Did he wonder? And question? And hope that God still loved Him....despite him loosing wife, family, and home?

And these trials I read......are not strange. Not uncommon to man. For the back of The Book says that hard times will come and the closer to His coming....the more severe they will get.

Yet, the Word says rejoice.....because we are being formed to the image of Christ through our pain and circumstances.

And this is when faith is it's most powerful force. Stepping forward when there is no road. Seeing with Spiritual eyes.......what is. Regardless of what we see which is not.

Though flesh always tries to resist the cross.....on the outskirts of redemption. On the Eve of His glory revealed.

So, I untie these arms wrapped around this creature. This flesh woman incapable of saving this drifting ship from sinking.

And let go.

Because, I know. I have always known. It is not the heart of God to harm. There is an enemy in this world. And if this enemy has been given permission to reign.....

God has a greater plan. One that mortal eyes can't see through....in rain. And sleet. And this consuming fire surrounding me.

And I whisper with the only prayer that I can now..... "Help".

Injured. Shattered. Laying down my sword now.....

So that Christ can pick up His.

For.....even if I stand alone. Even if I lose all the blessings God has abundantly lavished upon my home....

I will clench tight to His arms....

No....

I will jump into His arms. I will hold on tight. And by faith.....faith rise.....I will let Christ wield His sword. Win this battle....

As I rest...Carried through this fight......

Until I get to my real home.

For sometimes flawed art can be the most priceless pieces of all.

Linking this post with Ann @ A Holy Experience

Snowed In

2012-01-27T10:31:00.001-08:00

We are snowed in. Have been for days. White powder, like grace, covering the world as we know it.

Leaving it....

Quiet. Dark. Still.

And the cars. The noise. The tireless efforts of our lives....seems to come to a stop. Abruptly.

Nestled in. Blankets chin high. Hunkered down tight. Like the clean, perfect white, layers outside.

And our new car refuses to climb up the hill.....just one more time.

Stopped. At the bottom, far out of sight. And how similar we are to our automobile.

Lives driven. Running. Climbing. Now settled in. Resting. Still. Refusing to move because of this snowstorm of grace.

And how our circumstances seem to know what our soul needs....even more than we do, sometimes.

Power out. Strangers. Acquainted again.

Flames of our lives. Embers forced together.....begin to burn again.

And people become of utter importance. As the God voice speaks loud to a listening world.

And there....in house cold. Wrapped in blankets and layers and layers of clothes.

Eyes clearly see what matters. Simply God. And Each other.

^{John 13:34-35}

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.”

And yet, I still look for answers to question.

Yet, the answer.....love. Always love. The first. Last. The in between.

Loving not just in word and tongue.....but in truth and deed.

And yet, in grace. This downpour of snow......causes us to wait. Wait. Hear. Listen.

And it is in these....The waiting. Listening. Hearing. That grace harvests much. And love grows wings....

Come spring.

The Drift

2012-01-22T08:43:00.001-08:00

We are all born. Pieces of Heaven. With our own glimpses of revelation. In us. Through us. God with us....from the time we enter....Creation.

But then, "The Drift" takes over. Like gravity, running through us....pulling us down....to earths level.

Making us into cold, intellectual, mathematical.........controllable types of people.

Making decisions apart from Divine's wisdom. Because reasons. And choices.....

Want earthly foundations to build upon.

And yet. Foundations sinking. Like quick sand. As does all wisdom of man.

And, there we are. Once again. Longing for "Home's Way". Times of fruitful days, where creativity surfaces from closing childlike eyes.

From listening. Hearing. Being. What we were made to be...In Christ.

Children rejoicing in our uniqueness. Children living in much freedom....

Because whenever we fall, we know....

Our Father gets us. Pick us up. Dusts us off. And sets us on our way again. By grace.

And yet, the drift shouts, "Proceed with caution". And we become, grown men. Caged by doubt. Confined by human reason. Left wanting.....

Fearing fearlessness......shrinking back from usefulness that charges forward with souls unarmed....Hearts untangled from the "World Tug" so common.

And yet. Somewhere deep inside us. We all long to soar.

But trade in soaring.....for logic.

We make our own nests. And are content to simply rearrange their contents....

Instead of letting wings take us to far off places....Places only faith can rise to.

Or we trade in wings of wisdom.

And wrap them around life unchanging....

Because unchanging things are controllable....manageable. Understandable things. Instead of stretching out into God Sky......where we belong.

And when did it become enough to simply sit and watch the Heaven's part. Smell the earth's wake each morn.

Listen to the skies cry....

Instead of taste the wind beneath our wings.....

And soar....

Like we did in the early morn. Of childhood.

When did our Heaven Heart leave us. Why did we compromise and relinquish it?

And give into the complacency of gravity asking us to settle. Telling us....it's over. Settle. Stop. Come rest for awhile.

Convincing us......we must just get by and that is enough?

I want more.

More than nests build from my own foundation. More than branches of fleeting promises....

Quickly broken.

I want child eyes. Eyes of Heaven. Open.

I want to soar.....Up, up and away from....

"The Drift".

Linking this post with Inspire Me Monday, On, In, & Around Mondays & Ann at A holy experience
& Laura @ Wellspring

When We Run From God

2012-01-18T09:56:00.000-08:00

When my son was little, he was a runner. He darted in stores. Down streets. And ran with great fever, wherever he went.

To keep Him close.....so he wouldn't get hurt......we found a long, rainbow Safety Leash that we wrapped around his waist.

It had a handle on one end that we would double up around our wrist.

That way. In the fair. At the mall. On any amusement type trips. Where sounds and sights called. We could always make sure he was within arms length.

At the time, we were young parents. This was our first child. And we were terribly fearful when our only son was out of sight.

See, he didn't talk very well. And as he struggled to communicate, we knew he would not be able to verbalize where he was or where he went.

And we knew he would not be able to find his way back if he got lost.

And in remembering this time.....it just makes me ask? Why in good times, is it easy to know God is with us?

And what about bad times? Do we believe....He is still there?

Or do the lies seep in.....

God is not good? God could not love us? If God really cared.....He never would have let this happen to us.

And we drift. Drift from the God we love. Like a little boy on a tether.

Like a child being drawn by carnival sites. Lured by delights he sees with his physical eyes......Instead of clinging to the God who loves him.

Yet, I remember well, when I was one. The blind one wandering by promises of wealth and perfect living. The child so caught up and continually running....to whatever the world offered.....climbing ladders to self achievement.

But like clenched hands grabbing sand.....the tighter I clung.....the emptier my hands.

And when the circus noises died.....I would wander, trying to find.......my Father once again. Thinking He for sure had left me this time. Lost for good. No more hope for redemption.

Unable to see him in the dark. Unable to hear Him.

Ears muted by my own sin....Eyes blinded by my own heart. Mind clouded by my own self-righteousness.

Thinking......when I ran. I left the God I love. And He left me.

But now, today, in this season. Arms cling to The Father I need. And I am reminded of My Savior's faithfulness that says....

"I will never leave or forsake you."

And though we may have painted ourselves into a corner of hopelessness. Wandered to the darkness. Made bad choices. Or tried to cut and chew and severe the cord that holds us......

Jesus is still near. Holding the handle. Drawing us back to His loving arms.

And even in our Job moments.....when the world and those that we think are closest to us, shout condemning statements.....

We can hold on and trust and believe....God will never leave us!

So, the question pleads....

Do you believe? Yes, do you believe......He has a child safety cord wrapped around you?

A tether of grace continually keeping you....

Close to The One who loves you?

Psalms 139:7-8

   Where can I go from your Spirit?
   Where can I flee from your presence?
   If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
   if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

Emily @ Imperfect Prose & Women In The Word & Women Living Well

Martin Luther Was Right: Christ Sets Us Free

2012-01-16T11:13:00.000-08:00

John 10:2,3,7,9 "But he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. To him the doorkeeper opens, and the sheep hear his voice; and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. Then Jesus said to them again, “Most assuredly, I say to you, I am the door of the sheep... I am the door. If anyone enters by Me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture."

O.K. so here it is. I grew up thinking church was a club. Why?

Church had it's own uniform (dresses and ties).
Church had it's own rules (no running in the church, no happy, outgoing, emotional behavior whatsoever).
Church had it's own unspoken code (share about anything that seems holy and good. But, don't share the fact that you might have real life problems or that life might be hard in any way).

I found it impossible to follow it's ways. And tended to detect very early the counterfeits, hypocrites, and fakes.

......And I wanted out. Out from the walls of all man made religion.

And yet, church seemed to make sense when I read.....John 10.

"He leads them into the gate."

See, I envisioned church as a pen. A pen that keeps us in.....and keeps the world out.

Inside the pen.....we all looked the same. All holy (supposedly). All looking, acting, being.....clones of one another. Meek. Quiet. Obedient.

See, I never saw the church in the way that God created it to be.....

Open. Free. Without walls.

But then, I watch, "God in America". Christianity as we know it....spread because of people like John Wesley. Who left the confines of traditional rules....and got up on a soapbox outdoors to preach the gospel.

And I wonder why the best churches seem to have no walls.

Like Billy Sunday. Tent revivals. Breaking through with....no heating. Velvet lined benches. All those things....that make churches so comfortable now.

And I think of the church with a tarp up high in the mountains of Guatemala. The place where we took our children. Many, many miles away from where cars can reach them. And how powerful the weight of God seemed to be. There. On a mountain. In the middle of nowhere. The place where hungry people meet Jesus.

But, then...I keep reading John 10.

Jesus didn't just call His sheep.....but He leads them out. Out of the pen. Out of the wall of rock that at the time might have kept them in.

Jesus calls His sheep to freedom.

Like Martin Luther King, Jr. envisioned, when He gave His speech....."I have a dream."

The same freedom found in Psalms 23 when it says He leads His children to green pastures. Beside still waters....

Freedom......according to John 10....to leave safe places.

The temple of Christ....because of Jesus now.....not needing walls to restrict.

For doesn't the church now reside in us?

In living emblems. Empty vessels. Flesh and bones.

So, why do people fear or hide in man-made pens or shelters.....of religion?

Didn't Jesus come to open the door?

And what a waste. My childhood believing. Our Shepherd: Controlling. Manipulating. Restricting. Limiting. Keeping us, His sheep, in a pen.....with little freedom.

And what need is there for Jesus....is we live by rules that keep us from really living what the gospel paid for?

When Jesus is the doorway. Jesus is freedom.

And I thank Him.....as He calls us out. To still waters of refreshment. To graze on the earth that He made for our enjoyment.
The True Shepherd of the sheep. Leading us out.....

Beyond the pen. Out from traditions of man. To green pastures. Open skies. The water of life. A place of no limits. Free from "religion".

Linking this post w/ Michelle @ Graceful & Shanda @ A Pause On The Path
& Jen @ Findingheaven

What's The Point Of Fasting?

2012-01-14T08:36:00.000-08:00

I am a faster. No, not faster....but one who fasts. Not because I am super spiritual or have anything on anyone else.

I have simply seen the power and grace poured out in abundant measure.....

And know....as we humble ourselves....God reveals Himself to us.

And one thing I am sure of....I need so much more of Him.

I need Him in measures beyond what I ever thought.....especially the deeper I go in faith....the uglier I seem in the reflection of His Holy face.

And it is in fasting that I see my human nature, fleshly strength for what it really is. Nothing.

My self-provoked power. And achievements. And capabilities. And skills and intellect. Become fleeting.....

In my proverbial sackcloth and pleadings.

It is in this place where I acknowledge my weaknesses and see.....I need more of Him and less of me.

Fasting. A recourse for internal healing. Strongholds broken. Minds made clear. Lives restored. All through fasting.

Heaven parting time and time again.....In these weak hours, knee bend moments of confession and repentance. Declaring with more than simple words......the place of esteem He has in my life.

It is in the pleading.....the quiet desperation of the heart.....that Christ always listens. And never more am I close to Him.....than when I am fasting.

Closer to the Kingdom of God.....Lower at the feet of Jesus.

Yet, the funny thing about fasting....is that some might think it is control or manipulation. But, it is not. It's about seeing life. And self. And others....the way God sees them.

Crawling deeper into the heart of God. And finding....the only place that matters. Love.

Knowing.....He is our only answer.....to every single question.

And I rejoice at this exact hour.....where stomach growls and life is more than human feasting.

It is in this place of pleading....breaking strongholds. Witnessing......the life that God calls us to live in.

Helping the poor. Really seeing without the obstacles of the flesh.......the needy. Embracing the broken. With more than guilt or human empathy or manipulation.

It is about the letting go......and giving into the very purposes of God. It's about obedience.

It is the place where faith rises. And the love of God has no ceiling.

It's about freedom. Trusting. The heart and gift God gives to us.....

Through fasting.

I would love to hear about your personal experience of fasting.

Checking off one of #5 on 2012's list of resolutions. See a list of all 84 Resolutions below:

How Can You Change Your World this 2012?

Linking with On, In, & Around Monday

When Cancer Wins and Sun Shines with Amazing Grace.

2012-01-12T12:38:00.000-08:00

It's the drive that those who love, never want to take. The one where lives dangle from last breaths.....and winter has no spring coming. The time where no more stories will be told. No more eyes will see.....the beauty of God in Creation. In people. In this world. This God gift all around.

And we make our way to where Tio has chosen. The Care Center that has been the home to dear, sweet uncle. The one that happens to be Christian.

This place, our home as well....at least every day possible.....since uncle has been stricken with cancer. And it is true what they say....."Like God....Cancer is no respecter of persons."

And these moments before death.....who can plan. These weary last breaths that lift tired souls from earth...to eternity.

Holding Tio's hand. Talking.....whispering. Rubbing his hands with lotion so carefully.....in hopes for a few more memories before He takes His last breath.

And family floods the departing place. Things left unsaid, hearts wounded.....healed again.

And for this alone....this healing of souls.....this recovering from offense.....this reuniting of people once broken and torn apart by silly wounds......It all seems to be worth it.

Yet, on this day.....this last day we drive.....Husband and I get the call....."I am sorry. He is gone."

Emotions, like arrows, running through our heads....as we try to make sense of it all. Why we were only moments away....and he died without us there.

And though husband talked continually about Jesus....and I shared openly about what Christ did in me....

Though simple confession, I struggle to wonder....."Was it enough to get Him into heaven"?

And emotions surface in mind whirling......as I hear the Father speak......"He is waiting."

And I know what that means. "He is waiting."

And within seconds....Heaven's part. Grey days that haven't tasted sunlight for weeks, now part, almost instantly, as we squint and struggle to see through the bright light, driving down the freeway.

And it does not cease....these Heaven rays.

But then I hear Him whisper while husband in silent with pain...."Sing.....Amazing grace."

And what insanity it seems. Singing after just getting word that someone we love, who suffered painfully....died.

But, me. Obedient.

And soft, gentle whispers flow from my mouth.....as tears shoot out my eyes at the disbelief of it all.

"Amazing Grace.....how sweet the sound.....that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now I am found.....was blind but now I see."

And I always knew Amazing Grace was my song....my grandmother's song.....who died with the same cancer that uncle just suffered from....

But, in these words of sweet utterance....I hear.....

"This is Tio's Song.....Tio is now healed."

And I know Uncle struggled to receive grace. Yet, in last hours of questions and suffering and pain.....He seemed to embrace Jesus. But, more amazingly, somehow, someway.....I realized through this pain......that I had never fully understood grace, at least as completely as I did now.

See, I understood.....Grace washes away all sin.....but to witness in that moment....sun shining, tears flowing.....the erasing in action.....the erasing of a lifetime.....a whole different thing.

In those final breaths where all sin is washed away.....In this birth before death. A remarkable thing.

And I taste grace's sweetness......as song grows louder....."How precious did that grace appear, the hour I first believed."

And I get it now.....Grace does not simply cross out all sin.....it erases it completely.

And I wonder why.....at the end of our life....in pain....through suffering.....can we see Jesus so clearly?

Is it because He suffered? Is it because through suffering and pain Jesus more easily surfaces?

Or is it our scales....our scales of pride....somehow get washed away by pain and trials?

And I wonder....

As I sing in full force now....bellowing out the overwhelming goodness of grace despite this hour of sorrow.

Tio was such a good man. Yet, through cancer....Uncle's goodness did not provide the peace and happiness he thought it would when caskets call and darkness takes over the heart.

And I think how....

There are not good people and bad people in the world. There are only bad people and forgiven people.

And how good people don't go to heaven. It is only by the accepting and believing and faith in the blood of Jesus that anyone finds mercy.

The giving over of self....and letting Christ be Lord.....over our tomorrows.

And why is it at the end of our lives....everything comes into perspective? What matters surfaces? And all the petty things of the world seem to drown in the truth and the knowledge that we in fact need a Savior?

And what if Tio had acknowledged Chirst while acting....or traveling around the world. What if he had known Christ before His last breath.....

Oh, how his life could have been different.

But, then.....heaven's continued parting and the rays of light come drowning into my own mathematical mind. And I see that I am not God.....and I don't need to understand or ask why. I just need to love and try to show the world Christ.

And it is through this trip to the lifeless shell and back home again, that Jesus light flows and the truth of this hard journey makes me see clear....

Last time I saw Tio alive......He told me. I asked Him......

"Will I see you again?"

He knew. And I knew......exactly what that meant. And his answer was not frail like the words coming prior. His spirit was not withdrawn like when we had shared about the Bible. This time......

He was certain.....As I cling to this frail man's hope for life.

"For sure" he pronounced. "For sure" he repeated.

......And we leave a piece of ourselves in that Care Center at last....until, we can reunite.

And the sun keeps shooting down it's rays....all the way home......to the tune of....."Amazing Grace".

And in this final, painless, liberating conclusion.....all somehow seems grace.

Linking with Ann @ A holy experience

When An Abused Child Looks Like Jesus

2012-01-10T12:24:00.000-08:00

I didn't know what to expect. Never do when I get a new placement. But, I saw her. Eyes dim. Spirit fearful. Meek. Heart broken. Hands clenched.

And we open up doors of our home to this little girl. The doors once confining our own "perfect" obscure ideas of what Christianity is......before foster care.

Religion that once revolved around me. Imploding with empty notions of grandiose ideas of what....a world tailored, safe, isolated should be like. Not real Christianity.

But, now, we go outside our doors.....not just to the world.....but letting the world in. In all it's brokenness. With all it's flaws. And we trust God who sent His Son outside the walls of the church....outside the walls of the city.....to die on Calvary.

And it is here, when our God soul overcomes the impurities of the world.....where real liberty lies.

It is this place, where He sets the captives free.....where Christ's blood begins to have real meaning.
This place where we die.....to live only as an extension of His grace.
His light to the world.....instead of.....following religions replacement that uses empty words to seem righteous. The appearance of holiness as a substitute for having real power.

And this is the place......in the world of the broken......where real love reigns. This rich soil fertilized by grace, where sickness fades, lives are changed, real power, like tongues of fire......Redeem it's claimed.

And we see her face. Turned downed eyes. Weary smile. The famous child. The one I read about in every newspapers many states wide.

Another statistic.

This faceless child that diverted readers attention from themselves for awhile.....at least long enough to drink morning's coffee before starting the day.

But, to our family.....now.....this child has a face. Is a person. Here. Fragile. This petite one. Heart leaping with questions and eyes search with uncertainty. Hesitant. Wondering. Longing.....for any glimpse of hope. Seconds of freedom.

And I wonder how many children go through similar tragedies. So many like her....whose stories never get told.

And I step forward with feet of faith. And introduce myself. Her smile big. Welcome warm. Her heart cries somehow without words......in front of me.....through me....

"Help".

And I bring her home to our world. The one we have made....with pieces....once also broken.

And, I try to think....what if I was her.

Taken away from family. In home after home. Far across the country. For a whole year consistently beaten and abused.

Now at a strangers house....trying to predict their patterns....their rhythms......the day to day way that they live, work, and speak.

For isn't each home a song that each individual plays. And adding or taking away just one note......changes everything?

And I tuck her into pink comforter. I tell her how we went and bought blankets just for her. Remembering the stories I read of how she had to sleep in the cold. Outside. All alone........without blankets or pillow. Locked outside of hope....suffering in the cold....clinging to life....trying to make it till morning.

Then, night comes. And it is as if I have an infant again. I hear cries and wonder if I am imagining it. I go in and see her shaking, struck with paralyzing fear. Curled up in a ball. And saying....."I don't feel good".

And oh, what this child must have gone through.

And I whisper gently, reassuring her. Asking her what I can bring. Offering her blankets, food, water. Any kind of comfort. Anything....

And the thought of food in the middle of the night somehow seems to incite her. And she is thirsty. So I bring water. And her favorite chips....in hopes her mind won't wander....to the time she starved.....and had to go without food and water for days on end.

But, then, I hear through the misery of this child from her nightmare. "Jesus".

And, I hear Him say.....

"I am thirsty". And I think of Him on the cross before me. There.....desperate for a drink.......but given none.

And how He and this child at one time are not so far from being....One.

And I hear Him say......"I died to save more than you. Salvation is for everyone. Do you trust me? Don't you remember, how I have Redeemed you?"

And I wonder why sometimes our minds have limits. How we believe He can heal the blind, make the crippled walk. But when it comes to a person or situation.....somehow the enemy tries to slip us up....enough to even for a second think.......that Christ is not enough. This is too big for God....a particular situation.....whatever it is!

But then, through it all....this overwhelming broken child before me quivering in wretched fear.......I hear. "Don't forget what I have done for you."

And I am reminded of nights where fear had once gripped me. And chains once bound around me and in me, so clearly....that I could almost see them. And how......by grace.....He delivered me from my fears in an instant!

And I find hope for this child again.

That's then I see them. The cigarette scars on her feet and hands. Of this little girl. Malnutritioned. Aching bones weary from mistreatment.

And in them....Jesus.

Remember how Jesus also was scared......So that I can be forgiven. So that the world.....including this little girl.....could be redeemed, made new.....forgiven.

And I wonder....

Was it coincidence, how this little girl's oppressors quite literally scared her with the very marks of Jesus?

And how cigarette scars and nail scars look far from different.

And questions set in.....like.......Did they reject her, beat her, torture her, scorn her....because they saw she was meant to be redeemed? Would someday be a Christ follower? Was purposed to be free.....from all the slavery she had witnessed?

And the thoughts and questions and pain of it all makes me see......how lucky this little girl is to be alive.

And we all go to church on Sunday. As they preach......

"Don't think that God has given up on you. Keep hope. It is like a rope.....that even if you let go.....God has wrapped around you. And He loves you. He has a plan for you. He has chosen you."

"Do you believe that He is able, capable, desires to deliver you.....Making you into more than you can imagine?"

And I see this Lost One here beside me. Heart broken. Life shattered by devastation and deceit. And she sits up in her seat......staring eagerly at these words of life and liberty.

Hope. Victory. Anything that might make her whole again. And this broken picture, shattered creature listens attentively......for any light from the darkness she has known.

And I know in the darkest rooms, any pinhole of light seems to shine right through. For even a small amount of light has great power.

And it is almost seems as if her heart leaps right out of her seat.....as she struggles to wonder....

Where will be my new home? Could someone love me? Is God able to deliver....

A child like me?

And I am certain as I look on her......that she is not so different. Not so damaged. Not so broken....that God's love can't deliver, liberate, redeem.

For who of us have no scars?

Maybe not a body battered with visible scars.....but what about in hearts, emotions, minds severed at one time? And just because others may not see them....Does it mean that scars don't live under the surface in other people's lives?

And I start to see clearly......the hope of Jesus......stepping out from the open doors of The Bride Of Jesus....

Praising God for second changes. This little girl. And how I know, trust, believe without a doubt....that God can change her, help her.....God can do anything!

And it is here where memories cease to fade. Faith rises. This place of His power, where there is complete authority over the night.

This moment in time where hope reigns for this child.

Remembering with joy.....how Christ delivered me.

L:inking this post with Emily @ Imperfect Prose & Winsome Wednesdays& Laura @ Wellspring

When the "Yes" leads you to a little girl.

2012-01-06T10:30:00.000-08:00

It's all about the, "yes".

I remember it just like yesterday. Pony tails and girlie dress. Sitting in pew listening to what I thought was the neatest thing I had ever heard of....

A woman missionary.

And she said....."It's not about the great things we do in this life....it's about a heart surrendered to Him. It's about saying, "yes"....in the small things."

And I vowed to say, "yes" that day. "Yes" to faith. "Yes" to God. "Yes" to whatever He wanted me to do in and through me, in future days.

And now, fast forward, many decades......Husband and I pray......

"God, it's been awhile. Direction is not clear. Where do you want us to go? What do you want us to do? Show us."

And our computer has been broken. Kids gone to school. Silence shouting.....come sit awhile. Let the silence speak to you.

And emotions rise as noise of morning dies. And silence is the surrender. A breaking point that bares my soul and unclothes me from my own busy defenses and excuses of why I can't be still.

And the nakedness.....of self.....the channel to the very heart of God. The trumpet that awakens moments lost. Resurrecting spirit. With communion. And fellowship. Like once must have been so easy, in the garden of Eden.

In communions place......where "self" dies and God speaks loudest. The place where shrinking takes place. And God becomes big again.

There where His presence lingers. And the grandness of God swallows the silence with His love. And all becomes well again.

And it is here.....that I ask Him. Heart pleading....

"Lord, what do you want to do in us. I beg. Show us. I will say, 'yes'. And again, I told him....whatever it is....'yes'. I want to demonstrate your love....to a dying world."

And I specifically asked, "Lord, do you want us to take anymore foster children?"

Then, I get up. And hear.....almost immediately......the sound of a text. I check my phone. And it's one of our pastors......asking.....

"Are you still taking foster children. There is an African American girl that really needs a home".

So, I text. Opening this door. This crazy, unpredictable door to the unknown. And find out this girl just turned eleven years old.

Her story? Horrific. Her circumstances? Unbelievable. To tell you the truth, you wouldn't believe it if I told you.

And I call her teacher who goes to our church. I call her social worker and begin to ask.....the tough questions. The painful questions. The questions that have answers with two words that should never be used in the same sentence together.

"Girl" and "torture".

And we ask our eldest daughter about having an older child. Since, the past 8 years we have only taken infants and small children.

And she says....."Mom, I have been reading a book about a true story of a girl who was in foster care and was abused for years. And it is awful. It's a chronological memoir. And the part where I am at....

The girl in the book is the same age as this little child."

And I see how God lays foundations before we step. Carefully placing. Rearranging. And preparing.....any road he might ask us to walk on. Beforehand.

As I ask the Social Worker more questions.....

She says, there is only one problem, "This little girl has one specific request". And oh, the thoughts of all the demands and needs and things an eleven year old girl tortured and beaten might need or ask.

But, to my surprise and my shock and disbelief.....the social worker says, "She just simply asks if whoever has her can take her to church".

And oh, how my heart bleeds the love of Christ. And I think, who am I to get in the way of God.

And it is at that hour. That moment. Those words. When all my fears cease. Because I know that He is in this and with Him.....I can do anything.

And even now, beforehand......my heart loves this little girl.

Running out.....like any prospective mother would......To go shopping!

And I find sheets and a pink comforter on sale at an unbelievable price. Matching the pink walls of where this little girl will be staying at night.

And then, Social Worker tells me....pink is her absolute favorite color of all time.

Yes, God knew. God knows. It's not about any of our good works.....or great acts......or any type of trying to earn righteousness...

It's about love. And reaching the world with the love of God. Because out of His goodness....by grace.....He first loved us.

And I covet those moments where His love is so real. Clinging tight as we step forward, willing to do whatever He calls us to do.

And I know this will be hard. But Christ went to the cross and died for me.

He was also beaten. And did "hard"....yes, really "hard".....so that we might have freedom.

So, in just hours we do respite, to see how this little girl will do in our home. This little girl who lay in the hospital for weeks because her caregivers almost starved her death. This child with scars all over her body.

And I ask for your prayers. That God would hold this little one close. For strength and courage....that through this, we would walk close to the Father's heart.....in obedience and faithfulness.

And as we meet this child of God, we would serve her with joy.
And in whatever else Christ asks, we would respond......With hearts filled with....."Yes".

Linking with Brag On God& Womenlivingwell & Titus2sdays

Two Powerful Words

2012-01-04T13:01:00.000-08:00

"Surrender" and "Faith". Two powerful words. Words inseparable. Words definable by the Christian walk.

And I have seen and been either one or the other.

Surrendered One........Fasting. Praying. Pleading. Aching for more of Him. Or....

Faithful one.....Fully comprehending.....He is enough. Yet, hesitant to move forward and do really much.

One, incomplete without the other.

Surrender without Faith.....Sadism. Self-abased torment to somehow earn grace. Manipulate God.

Faith without Surrender.....Belief in The One who walks on water....yet fearful to give up 'self' for the purposes of the Father.

And the one cannot fly without the other.

Two wings holding tight to a Savior.

Both meant to work together.

And yet, both often at war.

Those Surrendered often question the Faith Full......

Thinking they must work to buy themselves grace. Duty bound religion lacking real faith....in Jesus.

Others Faith Full, struggle to embrace Surrender......

Thinking trusting alone, faith without works......will somehow promote them ahead in the Kingdom.

And the war has gone on for centuries.

Because.....the enemy loves extremes. Seeking to divide. Making God's people weak. Knowing quite well.....

God's people will not....cannot fly.....with just one wing.

Yet, I watch them soar. The balanced ones. The one's with face up toward the Son.

The one's with wings spread out in faith. Surrendered fully to His ways.

God's people soaring free on grace.

Up. Separate from man's way. Where skies are wide. In open spaces.

Moved by the power of both.....

Surrender and Faith.

Throwing New Years Resolutions in the Trash.....already!!

2012-01-03T12:08:00.000-08:00

New. Beginning again. Starting over. Fresh. Change. Different. Wiped Clean.

Have you heard them? Have you been.....the one wanting a new start?

Have you stopped and looked back and thought......"This past year was challenging, difficult, hard"?

Have you been wanting a white canvas to begin painting on again?

I have been there. Wanting past years to disappear. And thought.....New resolutions. A new direction. New hopes and dreams, goals, and directives.....would change my life course. Somehow. For the better.

Yet, this year, I think differently. This year I see this white palette before me. This clean slate. Starting over. Just a longing for more of Jesus.

Greater Redemption.

See, I wonder....if instead, every heart cry, every defeat, every throwing up our hands to say.....we didn't complete what we thought we should do, wanted to do, or really tried to do......is just a subtle, whisper, gentle clue.....we really just need Jesus?

For, didn't He say....."I will make you new.....as white as the driven snow?"

And, "Your mercies are new........every single morning?"

And yet, we write with carnal pens of hope. Make lists. Try with better effort.....which doesn't do anything. Really.

When, only grace is our healer. Surrender, our stepping stone. Wiping away the old.....has no chance alone.......without the power of the blood of Jesus.

With Him. A new beginning. Each day. Each confession. Each step we take admitting....we have no power apart from Him.

And yet, I read, and hear, and face so many......that struggle in their yesterdays. Pushing through and striving to be somehow more than what they hope or think......

Skinnier. Smarter. Prettier. Trying harder. Doing more. Being more. Somehow.....someway.....in their own strength...Something greater than before.

Swallowing somewhat empty air....trying to work their way to holiness, perfection, goodness. I know this. Because I did this.

But, who are we.....any of us....really......to strive our way to God? Who of us have any holiness....apart from the Savior who delivered us?

And I ask myself after years of failed attempts. Is the New Year about grabbing, getting, owning, striving just a little bit harder, farther, better than ever before? Or should this New Year be about no more, no less than......simply letting go?

And it seems, I have in the past, made life so hard.

When love acknowledges.....apart from Him......I will never be enough.

And if I was enough…..why would I need a Savior?

And I come to discover......Newness is found in nothing I do. All life and hope and joy and delight and prosperity......found only through....the blood of Jesus.

And I laugh at my foolishness. My vain attempts to strive my way to happiness. The me-try that usually ends in failed attempts......by February of each year.

And I take my lists that are all about me. And toss them in trash.

For, after all this time....I finally see......I don't want to be a better me....In fact, I don't want to be a "me" at all. I want people to look at me and see Jesus.

As I read Mark Driscoll say,

"Jesus does not make us better.....but new."

So, maybe it's not about a bigger, better, any new improved model of me.

But.....relaying on a Savior to do what we can't do for ourselves.

Throwing in the landfill all five steps to being smarter and wealthier....all those things appealing only to the world.

For doesn't the Word say, "God is no respecter of persons"?

And, maybe it's about dependency.....not self-sufficiency. Weakness....not any of our own power or strength.

Maybe life is about something more than performance, and ability, and our own hope to grow to be, new improved versions of ourselves.

Maybe it's about the surrender. The giving up. The asking. The needing to be delivered.

Maybe it's about Him starting over..........in us.....through us. Despite us.

Yes, maybe it's about us.....yes, us.....in our fleshly and human state.....Simply trusting.

And......Could it be......even if 2012 brings discontent and disarray........Could it be, about faith? Do we believe......

God is still the same?

Maybe the question is not about how I am going to change......

But about the laying down.....and believing.....God alone is enough. He is good. Never changes. And loves us.....no matter what.

He is faithful. Just. Still Sovereign throughout all time and circumstance.

Capable, trustworthy, immoveable, and unshaken......

Regardless of what tomorrow brings......

Yes maybe, just maybe, 2012 should be less about us and more about Jesus?

So, this year instead of thinking somehow, someway, I could ever be a better me.....through self-centered, works salvation or achievements.......

I surrender. I Give up. And instead of wanting more of self….. I throw my hands up.....and make a conscious, intentional, purposeful determination......to do no more than......simply trust.

Lay it down. Believe.....Without doubt or question or recounting my confession that......

God is enough.

Throwing all attempts at me-centered achievements in the trash. Letting go of me. And believing. Once and for all. Completely. Christ alone is all I need. He is enough!

Regardless of what.....

Tomorrow brings.

How Can You Change Your World this 2012?

2012-01-01T09:54:00.000-08:00

When my husband and I were first married, we would sit...just the two of us....and write out our New Year's Resolutions on whatever piece of paper jumped out before us. Sometimes our dreams for the coming year were written on notebook paper, sometimes grocery lists, sometimes computer paper.

It didn't matter. All that mattered was that we were together. And that life was looking at us open armed and offering another 365 days.

And asking.....

"How will you spend this gift that I give you....this gift of life....this gift of love.....this gift of family?"

We delighted in that challenge, adventure, call to be more, do more, and change more in the days to come. Anticipating.....with young kids and much younger bodies.....what the New Year would hold.

And now, as year blows past like wind through my fingers; I try to grab hold of even tidbits of how the prior year left us....But can't.

So, I resurrect old traditions. Not with husband.....but with all of you. I reach out with expectant anticipation.....and sit down....to write my news years resolution for the coming year.

This Year of 2012, I set my goals to.....

1) Meet 12 new people.

Reach out and have influence on a minimum of 12 new people. Letting also, 12 new people influence me.

2) Go out and change the world through 12 acts of service.

Big or small....it's not the quantity....but the purpose. I don't want this year to pass until a God hand has been extended in a way that I can see 12 acts of God's kindness reaching others as I step out in faith and obedience to wherever He leads.

3) Try 12 new foods.

I usually only eat the same bland palette....and have never been adventurous, or daring, or even wanting to try new foods.

But, life is short. And food was created for enjoyment. So, my attempt will not be to loose 12 pounds or exercise each week for 12 hours....but, to try 12 new foods.

If ambitious, I will write about what I thought when I tasted them. Did I like them? Would I try them again? And the places and people and circumstance which affected the taste of my new eatings. For after all, isn't food and their creations, just an extension of people?

4) Read 12 new books.

I am a book lover, so this will probably be the easiest of all. But, this time, I don't want to just read.....I want to really learn, and meditate, and draw from the lessons in them all. I want to apply what I learn to help change the world.

5) Spend at least 12 days fasting this year.

Praying and fasting not for selfish wishes and out of self centered motives.....but for others. Usually, I start the year off with an extended fast. But this year, I want to do a minimum of 12 full days of complete fasts....as God leads.. I just love how fasting seems to break through the heavens....shattering strongholds in a way that prayer alone won't. I anticipate these fasts....with great joy! And will likely begin my first one....the first hours of January.

6) Do 12 things that I have never done before.

Not quite sure at the end of the year, how this one will look. But, I am tired of the trenches that keeps us in comforts grip. I want to do...."different", "more", "unique". Whether it's for God, other people, or just me. At the end of the year.....I will have to see what it is God leads me to do. "New".

7) Do 12, random, unexpected things for those I love.

Unexpected is the key. And others must not at all anticipate or be aware beforehand. It is easy for me to serve strangers....but to be quite honest.....sometimes I overlook those I love most.

So, this year, I will try to love extravagantly. In a way that says to those around me......"You are important"!

This one will be the most difficult one of all. I am hardly spontaneous. And struggle, at times, getting creative.

Yet, this year.....

I don't want it to be all about me. I want it to be about others. How can I bless and love and serve, and change the lives of others?

Will you join me?

I would love to hear about your New Year Resolutions and how you will impact others, as well as yourselves this year!

I will be giving updates of how I am doing throughout the year.

God bless each one of you with a grace filled 2012!! And thank you for being a part of my world through blogging these past eight months!

~ jen

When Death Becomes Life

2011-12-23T19:17:00.001-08:00

I walk down white hallways, the ones so familiar now.

These.....the exiting ones. Clinging to a thread....from eternity.

They dangle on breaths. Finding life in respirators, and pills, and televisions that spill out glimpses of the world they once knew.

These sterile walls....their home. A refuge....their middle earth.....between here and Heaven's Song....

And I taste it in the air. It is bitter. Stagnant. Death. In nostrils wishing for escape....

Like so many inside, gripping fate......with hesitant fingers.....

And I wait for death to take hold. Of uncle.....and so much more. My will. My own way. The life of those around me.

And I hear God in this silence. The silence that easily resounds His name. And I stretch desperate ears to listen.....listen to what He says.

The story of my sister-in-law surfaces. How she once was old and confined to her own personal dying. While children and husband went on living without her.

And how death of flesh made her spirit rise. True faith come alive. And I see it in her eyes....as I speak with her this Christmas.

Her body pain has stripped her gloriously........of silly things that don't really matter anymore. The petty things that once held such great weight. And created so much pressure.

And how, though husband has ministry that reaches thousands upon thousands each year.....very few knew.....her physical state.....and how inside she was suffering and clinging to life....

And I wonder now.....when our physical bodies decay.......is it like a wine press that presses away so much of what we once thought was so important?

For, it seems then, life becomes simple again. Clearer somehow.

And I wonder if physical pain, and trials, and suffering....brings some kind of outpouring of extended grace?

And I think of uncle, just rooms away. And how when he was wriggling in pain....his ear was keenly tuned to the gospel.

Yet, during times of reprieve......self-sufficiently surfaced. Ears closed. Eyes turned away from the message of salvation.

And could it be, pain is actually a gift....to shift our self-centered eyes to Him.....to draw us closer to Our Father. Instead of rising in our own ways.....leaning on our own strength.

And I think of Paul's request. Take this thorn from my flesh. Yet, God refused....as his pain served to keep him humble.

And I wonder when we pull out our own thorns. Medicate our own sores. Run from. Deny. And heal our own wounds.....

Are we really taking away from the intended work of Christ? Are we playing God......instead of surrendering to the work He wants to do in us?

And isn't it when suffering of any kind surfaces, that wisdom increases, and we can discern most efficiently, the difference between gold and dust.

The dying. A birthing of spiritual eyes. The suffering. An awakening of eternal life....within our own souls.

The faith rise.

Is it then that we need, and look to, and cling to a hope outside of ourselves most? And isn't that what it's really about anyway......a hope outside of ourselves? Isn't that what it says in Romans 5:5?

When suffering comes.....our hope in a Savior rises?

And how our friends lost their child. Born disabled. Caring for her. Until age eight. When she died.

And how out of her seed of death their ministries rises. A wheelchair ministry touching hundreds around the world.

And I wonder if the death of the Saints....is the seed to all ministry. All true ministry.....anyway.

And how.....

I have fought death for far too long.

Wiggling and squirming and rejecting and learning......death is not always like we think.

A curse.

Could it be......death.....especially when it's death of self......can be a gift.....if we see it with the right eyes?

And I return to room of where our uncle is dying.

Husband hears him whispering.....from his painful suffering.

"Yes, I believe.......Jesus died on the cross for me."

And I praise God for slow, painful dying. Because I know it was the only thing that led Tio closer to Jesus.

And the questions beams out of joy from this profession.....

Do I.......do we........embrace death in whatever form it takes in our Spirits. Bending, and trusting, and believing God will use it........to bring His loved ones closer to the feet of Jesus.

Or do we, in our flesh.....keep on fighting. And living.......and resisting.....

Living only for comfort.....and ourselves.

And I thank Him for the grain that falls to the ground. Dying.....to produce more. Yes, more......

A harvest. Yes, a harvest......of souls.....

All around.

Linking with Jen

Crushing Religious Boxes

2011-12-18T08:48:00.000-08:00

The box. It calls. Beckons..."Come rest in me. My straight walls. Sharp edges." It hides...

A people.

Asking them to leave....

The freedom bought in Christ.

To hide inside...it's small, dark corners. Confined.

While open skies beckon higher. Calling deeper...drawing closer to The Source.

Fear resists the open.

Like an infant....feeling....

Safer. With small. Shallow. Confining people.

Curling up tight in religions....or slowly constructing personal priesthoods.

To keep themselves safe...or to keep others out.

But the Lord called His followers out....into freedom

Outside of any confines of walls built by man. Hindering declaration for...

His Kingdom to rise. Healing for His people.

So I fight boxes closing in around me. Rebellious arms waring to contend for open spaces.

Resenting, remembering, rejecting...once restricting walls around me.

Knowing...breathing only The Word bringing liberty.

Awakening to the open.....

For caged people....have very little influence.

And aren't we called to be light bearers.....Kingdom Carriers.....

World Changers...Of His gospel?

For didn't His precious blood...purchase our victory?

While, even He....went outdoors. Outside the camp....to bring healing. Calling those predestined to freedom.

To the cross. Rejecting man-made rules and accusations.

Apposing the proud, most righteous among Him...

Making way...to love the Freedom Seekers crying out....in His day.

I just love Him for that. For the "box crusher" that He was...

That He is.

So....I step outside....sheltered, safe places closing in around.

Thanking Him for His victory that tore open the curtain....shattering man made ceilings...

From the box He calls us out....to freedom.

Can you hear Him?

God is Still Good!

2011-12-17T21:32:00.001-08:00

God is still good.....

When noise of pain echos in people's ears.....and God speaks truth to try to draw them close to Him...but, they refuse to hear....

God is still good!

When there is a typhoon on the very same island our son is now staying on...

And we haven't heard from him.....

God is still good!

When loved ones lay struggling for breath in hospital room....

And resists accepting Jesus.

God is still good!

When five year old sits on lap and spills coffee on laptop....my escape to your world.

God is still good!

When there are stories of children abused, hurt, alone, rejected. And they step into your path....

And we wrestle with our flesh, when God asks, "What will you do?".

God is still good!

See, I choose to believe.....

It has nothing to do with positive thinking...or positive confession....or simply believing that what we conjure up and selfishly want, always comes true.

Or that God is only good when heavens seem to part and skies are always blue....and sun always shines.

It is faith. The faith rise....

A trusting. A knowing. God's faithfulness remains through.....every trial. Each and every circumstance.

And as days wrapped with Savior soon become many......we can look back. Recall the goodness of our God. And trust Him completely.....without feeling....

Like He is withholding.....punishing.....or abandoning us. When tough things happen.

Instead, we begin to thank Him.....For every circumstance. Because we have over and over...

Witnessed the ceaseless faithfulness of His love.

Trusting......The goodness of God always surfaces from hard times. If we hold on when winters appear.

And I remember when we bought our house. Worst winter in many years.

A few of our fruit trees could not endure.

The weakest ones died.

But, the others....come spring....bloomed colorful offspring covering the trees.

And the abundance of fruit that came from that hard winter....was too much to eat.

And I asked.....why? Why is the fruit so big and juicy this year?

And someone told me....

The harsher the winter, the more abundant the fruit....Come spring.

And so. At least from what I have seen......Fruit does not grow overnight, harvesting abundance from the course of an easy life.

Sometimes it takes cold weather, and tough people, and hard circumstances to produce the best crops of our lives.

Because it is through these things, we grow deep roots. Strong branches. Trusted soil. Bending with His grace when the winds of this life come.

And, if we hang on through storms. Finish the race strong. We can look back and see a legacy of the goodness of our God.

Learning in trials to give Him praise!

And the fruit will be worth the cost we paid for it....when we trust the goodness of our God.

So, I rejoice in.....

The Great Redeemer.

I hold onto.....the Father of all fruit.

I choose to see that no matter what tomorrow brings.....

I choose to believe.....yes, I choose to see......

God is still good.

Linking this post w/ Thankful Thursday & Ann

When Christmas Brings Pain

2011-12-14T07:51:00.000-08:00

There he is. Clenched palms to chair. Lungs rising slowly......fighting for air. Wriggling in pain. Last moments....before breath grants no more days.

Cancer. Like a thief in the night. Taking away bodies ability to fight.

The battle's almost done.

Eyes dim. Struggling one.....recollecting what's been left undone.......what's to come.

Hoping for answers to the unknown.

Fear of going. Fear of leaving. Fear of everything. The struggle with having no choice.

Yet, I ask in my head as I see this brave man leave his own understanding of this life that he has lives.....

Who of us has choice....really? Even when we think we orchestrate our time, plan our lives, organize and delegate.....and set up our own kingdoms in our mind....when it's all said and done.....who of us really has choice? Don't we all really live under the Sovereignty of God?

And I preach to uncle, the message for us all. No matter what we've done...no matter how much money we make or how many people we impress or how much stuff we appear to accumulate.....

In the end....all that matters is God.

And this yellow one. Still One.......waring on the inside.....man.....who has done so much right over his life....struggles to find faith.

Tubes on his face. Gripping for air. He asks....

"But why? Why after I have lived a good life....in the end.....I die. Like this." And he looks around an empty room. Chairs hollow emblems of those he loves. The silence echoing in the questioning room......of his soul.

And it isn't just him. The enemy always uses the "whys" to draw us away from God. The.....us wanting answers. The "us"......needing matter of fact facts before getting close to Jesus.

Yet, faith is not in the seeing. Trusting is believing....God is good.....even when life doesn't make sense.

And all I have to say is this.....

"Sometimes we can't understand. Sometimes life has no rhyme or reason. But this thing I am sure of......Everything that happens is for the very purpose......to lead us closer to Jesus."

And uncle bends over weeping. And I know he understands.

Gripping me with both hands tight.....as if to hold onto life.....as if to save himself from death. Struggling for breath. This desperation to accept salvation. Yet, hesitating. Straining for understanding.

And I keep talking. "Tio. Life is not a mathematical equation. Good outweighing bad.....doesn't get us into heaven. Some religions believe that. But, God has no scale. There are not good people and bad people. And only the 'good' people go to heaven. We are all bad. We have all fallen short of the glory of God."

Truth is....."There are only bad people.....and those who know God and are saved by his blood."

We can't earn our own salvation.

There is no bargaining with God......when we take our last breath.

And though actor. And ship master. A crabber. World traveler. In the end.....He knows. Yes, he knows.....that he must surrender to The Father.

Yet, "I'm scared", he says.

"It's easy", I tell him. "Profess Christ. And that you cannot save yourself." I plead with everything in me. The Gentle One before me with child-like eyes.......hungry......for an answer to all his questions.

"Just profess Christ", I say again.

But, he doesn't.

Questions surfacing, I see them rise like bitter tides inside his eyes of wondering. Holding firmly to the world......in the same way both arms grip the chair again....hands white knuckling.

But, then. I tell him. "You have the rosary hanging around your head. How can you carry a cross of Jesus on your heart......but not accept him into your heart?" It is not enough to where Christ. We must let Christ where us.

And I think....how many of us like to show Christ and share Christ and flash others with our own Christ wearing.....but fail to let him grip our hearts? And how my Tio and I are not so far apart.....at times.

But, yet.....he holds on.....

Fearing death. Fearing Christ. Fearing loneliness as cancer is robbing and stealing every very last breath.

And finally I humble myself. I step back after hours of talking. Lots of tears. Explaining and professing.

And, I realize......I cannot help him. I am no Savior.....just a servant. And the only way to draw him is through the work of the Holy Spirit.

And, I have heard it said. The sinner has much greater chance to get to heaven, than the "good" man. Because a "good" man....a man who has done everything right.....fails to see his desperate need for Christ.

So, I walk away. Keep praying......but walk away. Though my son called me an evangelist the other day.....I know now......grace alone must find a way.

So, I meander through white, empty walls down the hall. Seeing presents under Christmas tree out in the lobby. And I long for the greatest gift of all.....

That our uncle would receive Jesus.

And as I leave, I think of Tio. Alone. Fighting questions and time. The battle of surrender we all must daily fight.

And I want to open The Gift for him....take it and share it and give it to him....freely. But, he won't let me.

There comes a time when each of us must unwrap our own gift. Our own gift.....of Christ. And receive Him as our own.

So, I pray.....Lord please don't take our Uncle from this earthly home.....until he finds the greatest gift that any man or woman will ever know......

Jesus.

Please pray with me friends for our passing Uncle, that He would know the glory of salvation and go "home" to be with Jesus this season. It would be the greatest gift of all to our family. Thank you.

Linking this post w/ Tracy & womenlivingwell & Emily

The Biker in Church Today

2011-12-12T08:20:00.000-08:00

I see him. Greeting time. Standing in the back of the church. Against the wall.

Coffee. Small talk. People wondering....how long they must chat.....before sitting idol for service again.

Tall one. 6 foot plus. Long haired. Giant. Biker-like. Straggly hair. Leather wearing. Intimidating one.

Alone.

No one introducing. Not fitting in with....the one's around him mindlessly mingling with comfortable friends.

God led to go talk to him. This Giant one. Standing alone. In the back of the church.

Introducing myself. His voice speaks gently. Like a giant. Gentle-giant. That's what he is.

Warm. Affirming. Tender where others can't see.

And I strike down quick thinking...that makes judgement by what is seen.....before getting to know....the stranger in the back of the church.

And we learn from....this rugged one. Husband and I. Loving him. Instantly. Cause his heart is on his sleeve. And it's....so refreshing.

From prior church.....deeply hurt and sadly grieved. And how much we have in common....

And I begin to understand from my leather wearing friend. Love isn't always packaged tidy. And......Christian's don't always come smiling.....like Joel Osteen.

Love comes in many shades, many colors.....many blends. It's what we paint the picture with that transcends time and space.

Are we stroking with a brush of love.....gentle strokes of grace?

And as we read.....God's Word. We learn. Biker one. Knows scripture deeply.

This rugged one. On fire.....with the power of the Holy Spirit.

And I want to sit and listen to this once evangelist. This converter of sinners. This powerhouse of truth. Disguised with long hair and a long, unkempt beard. This unsuspecting Christian not fitting into traditional religions views.

And I must ask....how many more come in and leave....unrecognized, unseen, undetected....while we are busy playing church?

And I remember how.....

Truth lives strong in those who once carried much sin.

And how Forgiven Much, is a gift. And how Jesus embraces brokenness. And how Biker One is a perfect representation of grace.

Which makes me question, my own motives for being at church each Sunday?

Am I going to church.....because, well.....that's what you do.....to check off church each week?

A complacent observer.....missing the very walk and purpose of Jesus?
Or am I going to ignite the very life of Jesus in me? Not sitting tidy in religious pews.....but getting up and going out the rest of the week.....to live like Jesus?

Like this Biker....I admire. Unidentifiable. The most unexpected Christian of all......not molded to contentment's seat.

This stranger who is now a friend. One of the most tender, alive Christians I have ever seen.

In the back of the church.....where God's Spirit has no hindering.....caused by the fear of man.

And how many more weekly.....come and leave.....without any one else noticing?

And then, I see her today. Old lady in tears at the preachers sermon. Weeping with hands covering face. Humbly getting off her seat to place.....her seventy year old knees on the floor.

And I know......she gets it. She gets it most of all. There....in the back of the church on Sunday.

Do we see them? Could we learn from them? Do they matter? Do we know.......

Linking today w/ Michelle @ Graceful , Laura ,On, In, & Around Mondays

Hei Matau: The Reason We Missed Our Plane

2011-12-09T11:19:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you have one of those days.....where everything just seems to go wrong. The day we left for L.A. was one of those days.

We missed our plane.

Then, we learn, this new airline only departs for L.A. every five hours.

So, we go back to retrieve our car. Optimism slowly starving.

And my spirit searches for God. He lets everything happen for a reason......I try to keep thinking. God will bring good out of what the enemy wants for harm.

And we go on the bus back to where our car is parked. We share with the driver how our son is on mission. And we are going to see him because he will soon be leaving to the Philippines.

The man driving is friendly. And our hearts connect immediately.

Don't you love those stranger connections that seem to make you instantly, friends?

Man's eyes beam. His daughter might head to seminary. And he says something significant.....

"Don't worry about missing your plane.....maybe there is something you need to buy, that you can only buy here.....before going to L.A."

My husband just saying that very same thing.....a few hours earlier.

So, we head out and the day seems to go from bad to worse. We check out indoor skydiving and we miss the last session by minutes.

Why are we stuck home for five hours. God, what do you have for us?

And the waiting and wondering and question often so much harder than the doing.

Yet, it is in these moments where faith rises. True conviction of what we believe is tested and purified.

And we look for one last gift, with a sense in our souls......There is something more we're supposed to send with our son.

And then, we see it. A Christian bookstore. Time is tested. We question.....could we miss a plane twice in one day?

Yet, we run in, by faith.....making our way....through the store.

And on a table, in the back. It is there. Hei Matau. Me, drawn to it like a bug to a flame, picking it up, I proclaim.....

"Let's get this."

As I hold it up. My husband says...."Yes. I know what it means. It means safe travel over waters and seas."

And how significant an emblem that means protection and strength.....for our eighteen year old missionary who is headed to share Jesus.

So, we grab it. Purchase it. Run out of the store. As my husband explains....the symbol is the same as one I was reading about just two days before.....

This symbol was known to be given in love. Connecting hearts and spirit by God above. Those who wear it are held close between space. And safety was given over water.....by grace.

It also has some link to the sea.

And how much more ideal that my son is drawn to the ocean. To the depths. To it's waves. As he'll be sharing Jesus for two and a half months.

And, we cling to this emblem, barely making our plane.

And I think of how some things make no sense to human minds....

Like, how a stranger on a bus can proclaim the very same thing.....my husband spoke a few hours earlier?

Like, how our time and our schedule and our lives, really, are not in our control. Nothing is in our hands.

And how.....it's all about.....trusting God with every circumstance.

And we cling to more than hope in a symbol. Our God having residence over every human emblem....

Yet, it's the significance.....

That God cares about and sees and orchestrates everything for His purpose....

And as son parts. Clung to his neck where our arms cannot reach. Our gift....given from grace...

The reason we missed the plane......Hei Matau.

Linking this post w/ Laura - Brag On God Friday

On Top of the World. A "hello" and "goodbye".

2011-12-08T09:06:00.000-08:00

I stand in the center of a map of the world. Call2All Conference in L.A. And I hear a voice. Familiar. Deep. Coming from behind. The piece of me I have so longed to see.....

And there you are. Tan. Tall. Shining bright before all.

And you look different: Older. Wiser. Brighter.......with the light of Jesus.

And I grip time in my arms. Not letting you go, this piece of my heart.....returning to me after months apart.

And the strong one....denial.....has no chance. As tears flood face. Arms wrap around you.

And I ask....

How could my tiny bundle, now be this strong man, held in my arms?

......The question every mother eventually asks of her growing young child.

And how strange to find my son, birthed, here....in this middle ground, this place.....Surrounded by hundreds of people.

Standing on a map of the world.

The significance of it all.

And heart seals moments. Where infant returns to His mom.....as a man.

All seems complete. As the world seems to circle around us.

Here. Love has no barriers. Place. Distance. Worries.

Just us two. Alone. Embracing......as the world disappears.

And any words..... would pollute.....this moment. This......remembering between us two.

But, then arms must let loose. For even time cannot be contained forever.

And we walk and talk and be. Together.

You share how God has called you, to the Philippines. How they have asked you from YWAM to be a leader.

And I am proud. There is God heart behind your purpose.

I listen.

Life leaping. I see it. Inside you: Hope. Joy. Wisdom. Patience.

And the man I see.....I know.....has been chiseled out of distance.

And now......tomorrow you leave. Across far seas. With His Spirit inside you. Love clearly beating.....

Nothing holding you back from His dream....His purpose. Ripe.....in you.

And I am proud........Proud as any mom could ever be.

The purposes He has for you....coming to season.

And what can I tell you my son....

But.....

Grip faith. Hold tight to the firm foundation that no matter the circumstances....never shakes.

Stay strong. There is no real strength apart from God. He is the rock. The immoveable stone.

Remember your purpose. Embrace this High Calling before you.....

And hold tight to God who.......saved you, loves you, pursues you.....With an everlasting love.

The kind that even moms, and dads, and friends, and family.......have barely even tasted of.

For breakfast and lunch and dinner each day. Eat well. His Word. The Living Word that is Spirit and life.

And as you go over the waters and will likely be living by the water....keep drinking, my son.....the Living Water.....

The one that makes you thirst no more. The one that will never run dry.

Keep your eyes on Him. Your path straight. Looking neither to the left or the right.....or behind.

Live full. Live strong. Live in this moment in time......

Nothing good ever comes from looking back.

Let His light be your life. His voice be your direction.

Trust the one who is gentle and patience.....and kind.

Hold tight my son. And stay pliable and soft. The tenderness I see in your eyes as we eat lunch......

Is evidence of His work on the cross. And if need be......

Let Him continue to break through, whatever needs to be undone.

Let nothing or no one keep you from the fullness of His power. You are the hope of the world.

In you is life and light and the choice to.....be the hands and feet of Christ.

Live brave. And courageous. Find strength from Him.....only Him.....

And don't let time or people or questions....hold you back from the now before you.

You are not a boy anymore, my son. You are a man. A God Child living, blooming, being.......a witness for His goodness.

What a gift.

And thank you......thank you for being you. I never needed more or less or different from the one God made you.

You were always enough. Did you know that?

And I love you.....

When waters wash up and try to carry memories away......

The anchor in my heart for you will always keep you here in place....deep.....within my soul. The home a mother always has.....for her one and only son.

Though you are far. Though I don't know when you are coming home from what God is calling you to do.....

I am proud of you, my son

You are the gift God used, to change my life forever. I am thankful for that. So, thankful for you.

I believe in you.

May the God of the Universe....the Creator of Heaven and Earth....the Maker of the entire world......go before you.

I love you. Forever.....
Mom

Linking this post w/ Thankful Thursday& Jen @ Finding Heaven

Gone for a few days.

2011-12-03T05:33:00.000-08:00

Flying out as we speak, to go see my son who has been in YWAM in Hawaii. He is now in L.A. before heading to the Philippines, and just me & my husband are traveling....this time.

It was also our nineteenth year Anniversary. So we are taking a few days to get away, and be with our first born. Our gift straight from Heaven.

We would love all your blessings. Be back Tuesday.

May grace part cloudy skies. Open up the heaven's wide. Welcome us with hungry arms. And fly us to our beloved son.

Jen