Thought

Into Dreaming

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The lizard in the rough

In my waking and my slumber may your presence fill my heart. When my eyes close let me see you clearly. When all of me is shut down and distant let me hear you shout loudly. Even when I’m unaware, you’re guiding me, warning me, comforting, drawing me near to your glory. My ever present refuge, my deliver, strength of my heart. I trust in You.

Let me dream dreams of vision. Let my passion be bigger than me. May my vigor for your purpose drive my life; a pen in the hand of a ready writer (Ps. 45:1). All I am I give to you, my desires, my dreams. Make them into something more. Make them lovely. Overwhelm, consume, edit my life until it portrays your message.

I’ll dream again and wait for you.

Proverbs 16:9 “A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps”.

Need

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I watched a newborn baby snuggled tightly to her mother’s chest in perfect peace amidst the noise and chaos all around. I sang with all I had in worship to my father, the author of all I am, the one we so often forget to acknowledge. We pursue Him in word and song, praying He will meet us where we are. We pursue the strength of His arm to sweep in and lift our heads from the weight of the burdens we insist on carrying.

The baby before me needs her mother’s arms to carry her. She gains her sustenance from her mother. Without her parents or someone to care for her, she will not survive, let alone thrive. Yet we act and live as if we are somehow independent.

My prayers changed in that moment.

I don’t want to long for an encounter with God or for His strength to meet me and carry me through moments I cannot handle on my own. I want to NEED Him! I realized He is faithful to meet us in the place of our need. I pray that I will need Him in everything. I pray I will worship Him from a deep knowledge that without Him, I cannot hold my own head up. Without Him, I am thirsty and hungry. Without Him, I am bound by the impossible weight of this world. Without Him, I am weak and broken.

In Him, I am alive. In Him, I can breathe deep and inhale the wonder before me. In Him, color awakens to brilliance. In Him, shadows flee, questions have answers, light and hope fill the places once occupied by darkness. In Him, I love and am loved. In Him, there is joy unexplainable. In Him, I live and move and have my being. Everything I need, He has given. My desires become captured by beauty and purpose. Meaning takes on new meaning.

Lord, I pray that I would be consumed by a passion and a need for you. I pray that I would continue to decrease making more room for your glory in my life. There is no greater joy. I am enamoured and captivated by you. As I seek you and find you, I realize that I can’t get enough of you.

White Washed Tombs

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I took a drive today to a place I once lived. Something once so familiar now screams of distance and abandon, of days long past and reminders of how far I’ve come.

Even the sky is dim framing the homes fallen to disrepair, forgotten or ignored by the “noble” ones; still occupied by dreamers or those who’ve given up, a little of both, who am I to say?

The middle of the street interrupted by medians that were created a few years ago by those seeking to rejuvenate or beautify the otherwise dismal. Live oaks and palm trees stand like proud pillars lending shade to the mass of flowers beneath. Anything to train the eye to ignore the reality and focus on the seemingly lovely.

Money spent to cover up instead of resolve. Funds allocated to appearance instead of wholeness and recovery. An attempt to buy hope for the broken instead of introducing the need to the one who IS hope, the answer, the truth.

Maybe that’s what we’ve become. White washed tombs who hide our need behind proud pillar smile and flowery words. Broken and bound within but perfumed and covered by manicured skin and rote responses, “I’m doing great! How are you?” “Blessed and highly favored” though the words lack sincerity and genuineness.

My heart breaks for the broken ones, the ones hidden behind showcases of beauty. Can we acknowledge the need and do something or do we drive by and focus on the flowers? Am I willing to allow my eyes to see? Am I broken for others and pouring out in prayer and kindness? Am I offering my hands and my heart or am I content with the covering?

Not just on the street among the drug bound and needy, but in the grocery store when I see someone who needs a smile and a word of encouragement. To the cashier whose day consisted of complaints and busy people. In the church where the people so often hide who they really are for fear of rejection (struggling with secret sin but too afraid to admit it and find healing)? Do I walk by and join the others, refusing to go deeper into the fray? Will I not be moved to compassion for another?

Am I a white washed tomb, who appears to have the answers but never provides a solution? Am I real? Do my words show the genuineness and compassion of a loving, infinite, savior and comforter who longs to mend the broken-hearted and restore the weak.

Lord, break my heart for what breaks yours. Here I am, send me.

Courage

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My kids and their cousins ready to conquer the world of canoeing

My daughter is working on an essay about Courage. She asked me the other day to name someone I found to be courageous. The problem wasn’t that I couldn’t think of anyone, it was more that I can think of so many acts of courage that happen daily. To name one courageous person seems difficult in the light of so many who have given their lives in sacrifice for others or who face great odds to accomplish great things.

 

Honestly, I didn’t think too much more about the subject until this morning when I opened II Samuel chapter 4:1 “When Ish-bosheth, Saul’s son, heard that Abner was dead in Hebron, his courage failed, and all the Israelites were troubled and dismayed.”  Then dropping down to verse 4 “Jonathan, Saul’s son, had a son who was a cripple in his feet. He was five years old when the news came out of Jezreel [of the deaths] of Saul and Jonathan. And the boy’s nurse took him up and fled; and in her haste, he fell and became lame. His name was Mephibosheth.” 

 

Later in the chapter, we find Ish-bosheth napping (not exactly an act of heroism) and he is killed upon his bed. Poor Mephibosheth is crippled for the rest of his life because of one woman’s fear which proved to be completely unfounded in the end.

 

Fear causes us to do dumb things. It can cripple us if we allow it to. We fear what others think of us so we do nothing or we hide. We fear rejection so we don’t connect with others. We fear being hurt so we put up walls around our hearts. We fear failure so we keep our ambitions to a minimum. We’ve heard it said that the only thing we should fear is fear itself. Maybe there is an element of truth to that. When I read II Samuel 4, it is pretty clear to me that the results of fear or the lack of courage led to destruction and death.

 

So what is real courage? I think David gives us a pretty good example. In I Samuel 30, David and his men came home to find that their wives and children had been taken captive. David was “greatly distressed” (verse 6) “But David encouraged and strengthened himself in the Lord his God.” Then he did the most courageous thing of all, rather than reacting blindly, verse 8 “David inquired of the Lord, saying, shall I pursue this troop? Shall I overtake them? The Lord answered him, Pursue, for you shall surely overtake them and without fail recover all. 9 “So David went…”

 

Over and over again, we find David in overwhelming circumstances with enemies coming after him and armies surrounding him. Each time we see the same words, “David inquired of the Lord” True courage is found in true faith. David strengthened himself in the Lord and knew that without the Lord, he could do nothing. In each situation he waited for the voice of God to speak into the circumstance and then he acted in obedience. Philippians 4:6 “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.”

 

Courage isn’t just the absence of fear. Courage is the knowledge that despite the circumstance, God has is under control and His plans are good.

 

Lord, let my first reaction to every situation be to inquire of you. Then give me the courage to do what you tell me to knowing that You are good and You will never leave me. I am completely secure in Your hands and completely able to accomplish whatever you set before me with You leading the way. Thank you that you choose to do great things through vessels of clay and dust. Thank you that you can be glorified in any circumstance when we are courageous enough to get out of your way and walk in obedience.  I love being yours!

Reinvented

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In rural, southern Ohio somewhere there is a band of stuffed animals and baby dolls who were once taught the word of God. When I was a little girl, I was convinced that I would be a preacher and a singer. I would play church with my stuffed animals in the backyard. I would lead worship, then read my bible aloud to them, then expound and teach them everything a teddy bear and bunny could need to know about the kingdom of God. At the end, I’d have an altar call and pray for them and for everyone else I know.

I was at a Women of Faith conference last week and Brenda Warner said when she was five years old she stood up in front of her church and announced that when she grew up she wanted to be either a preacher or a stripper. I guess it’s not who we think we’ll be but who we end up being that matters.

There are moments, when I can’t help but look back over my life and see the good and the bad. I’ve made so many mistakes and I’ve wasted so much time. There were times, I was so far from that little girl with dreams of changing the world, one teddy bear at a time.

Still, here I stand, determined that today will mean more than yesterday. Tomorrow will be a new beginning with new mercies and new opportunities. We have a choice to look back and mourn for what could have been or to pick up and do what we can with today.

I know there are those who look back and think that the past somehow disqualifies them from doing something in the present. I used to be one of them. The truth is that the past molds us into the person we are now and we are the ones chosen to accomplish that which God put in us to do. Through the grace of God, I see things differently than others might because of my experiences. I can use that vision to propel me toward the goals and dreams God put in me.

One of the greatest tools of our enemy is the ability to convince us that we are too messed up to accomplish our dreams or that it’s too late or that we aren’t good enough. As I listen to the stories of others I realize more and more that I am not the only one whose overcome great odds to become something beautiful.

God enables the willing. He isn’t constrained by our ideas of what it means to be “good enough”. He not only loves us in spite of the rubble. He is a master craftsmen who builds us into His image using the pieces we thought were irreparable. He simply waits for us to present ourselves to Him. Now is our greatest opportunity.

My Poor Inner Neat Freak

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I am a neat freak who is hopelessly trapped inside a messy person’s body. I find myself overcome with the desire to have a beautiful, clutter free home but the ability to keep it in such a state eludes me. This split personality frustrates me more than any other attribute I possess.

In May, we found the perfect, cozy little nest to call our home. It’s in a great location. The yard is great for the kids to play. We love it here and it was a huge upgrade from the tiny apartment we were living in prior to our move! As an added benefit, we live next door to our pastor and his wife. I work for the church and our offices have been located in my pastor’s home while our church was transitioning to a new facility so I can walk across the yard everyday to go to the office. Bonus!

Yesterday, I found myself colliding with my inner perfectionist when my Pastor called and said he had a dining room table we could have to replace the rickety one we had which never did quite fit in our dining area. It was a huge blessing! However, my house was not quite “fit for company”. I worked all day and then went to pick up the kids and rushed home to straighten up only to find out he was on his way at that moment. There was no time. In my frazzled state, my husband made a profound statement that shook me. He said, “It is what it is, why hide how we really live?” I can’t say I was happy with his comment at the time, but the truth is, we do live this way.

I can so easily find myself in a rose-colored world of denial where I run around like a madwoman attempting to hide the things I’d rather not let anyone else see. I can so easily find myself becoming comfortable with the chaos rather than mustering up the motivation to fix it. I can so easily find myself shifting the blame for my mania to those around me with things that are fundamentally true but possessing inherent faulty logic: statements like, “the kids really need to do more to help me around here. I shouldn’t have to do it all myself” which may be true, but I forget to acknowledge that I am responsible for assigning them tasks. I can’t complain that the house isn’t magically clean when I’ve not told them to do anything and I’m fighting in my own strength to stay on top of it as if I were some super ninja of organization. I can so easily find myself making excuses for my negligence (I am so busy, I work, I take care of three children, I’m pregnant and tired etc.).

Even deeper than the dirt and clutter in my home, are the implications these tendencies have in the realm of the soul. Are there areas I don’t want exposed to the world? Are there things in my heart, I’d rather not bother cleaning out, so I stuff them away to be dealt with later? Are there things that come out from time to time that would make me wince when others see them? Do I hesitate at the thought that someone may see “how I really live”?

My goal for this week is to examine myself both inside and out. I know better than to overwhelm myself with trying to conquer all my giants in less than 24 hours. I also know that starting where I am, in all my shortcomings, without beating myself up when I don’t perform up to my own standards, is better than remaining stuck beating my head against the same wall day after day. So today, I will accept where I am and take a step forward. My house won’t be spotless tomorrow and I probably won’t be posing for a write-up in Better Homes and Gardens any time soon. I doubt I’ll be receiving calls from the saints gone on before to tell me what a model of faith and holiness I am, but when all is said and done, no one will be able to say of me, that I didn’t try. That is enough to make me smile and I believe it pleases my Father as well.

“And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men” Colossians 3:23

 

Forgiveness

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Bound

Anyone who has been a Christian for any amount of time knows a thing or two about forgiveness. First, there’s the fact that we’ve been forgiven so much, a concept that still blows my mind when I think of some of the things I’ve done or worse yet, acknowledge the things my heart was capable of doing. Then at some point, we dig a little deeper and find the skeletons of long ago that still cause our hearts to grieve and/or our blood to boil to the point of seething and we slowly start letting go of them. We clean out the baggage that takes up much needed space in the closets of our hearts.

We find that forgiveness comes easy in some situations and much harder in others. I can vividly remember a particular situation that I went through where I found myself coming repeatedly to the Lord and crying out for help because I wanted to forgive and said I’d forgiven but I knew in my heart I wasn’t over it yet. Some wounds are deeper than others. I would leave my prayer closet thinking I had overcome only to find myself fuming and my stomach churning the next time someone mentioned the offender’s name.

The beauty of such a long hard battle is that when the victory comes, it somehow seems sweeter. My victory in this situation was actually subtle. After years of prayer and struggle, I ran into said person at a store one day. I say “ran into” but the truth is I walked by and noticed someone hiding behind a fruit display in the produce department. This person apparently spotted me first. That struck me as so funny that I figured I’d go be pleasant and eliminate the need of any future fruit cover up.

I was standing there in the produce department having a conversation with someone who hurt and abused me, someone who threatened the life of me and my daughter, someone who had held the weight of my wrath for so long, as if we were old friends catching up. I realized in that moment that it no longer hurt. I was no longer angry. I had obtained my freedom without really knowing it until confronted with it. There were no lightning bolts from heaven signifying the end of an era. I didn’t need to ‘hug it out’ or have any real sense of closure on the situation. It was simply done. Hidden and absorbed with the blood spilled to free me in an old cross, and purged by peace into life.

I’ve found myself being confronted with this passage of scripture several times recently,

 “Therefore if you bring your gift to the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you,leave your gift there before the altar, and go your way. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.” Matthew 5:23-24

What people often overlook in these verses is that Jesus said if someone has something against you, not the other way around. Obviously, we know if we have something against someone else, we need to go make it right, but Jesus raises the standard. He doesn’t want us to allow strife at all. We are required to make an effort even when it’s someone else holding the offense against us. This, in my opinion, is a tough one.

I had a conversation the other day with someone who was adamantly refusing to make an effort to make peace with a person because they were convinced that was they said was right. My counsel to them was that it doesn’t matter if you are right, you don’t have to say you were wrong, but you are required to try to mend the relationship between you and your brother. God doesn’t tolerate strife, period.

We often allow our own pride and defensiveness drive our actions. I believe that though we never compromise on what we believe, we don’t always have to fight for ourselves. God will defend the righteous. That is His job. Our job, according to Micah 6:8 is this, “And what does the Lord require of you, But to do justly, To love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God?”

There are times when we will extend the olive branch of peace to another person and that person is not willing to accept it. I believe in those situations all we can do is pray for them and continue to walk in love toward them. God knows our hearts and will not hold the actions and attitudes of another against us. Please don’t take the effort to mend a relationship to an unhealthy extreme. I have seen people who become almost obsessed with trying to make someone forgive them or like them. You are only responsible for what you do. If someone else refuses to forgive, let it go. It’s between them and God.

When we choose not to forgive someone else we are binding that person to our hearts. I refuse to allow those who have wronged me to continue to have any effect on my life. I am determined to free myself of them and any chain they have in me. So I forgive quickly. When it’s hard I pray for them even through clinched teeth when necessary, until the chain is broken.

Forgiveness is one of the most freeing things we as mortals are given the pleasure of experiencing. I am so thankful for the forgiveness and grace extended to me by my Savior, Jesus Christ. I am so thankful for the people who love and bear with me daily as I make my way through this earthly existence. I am so thankful that I am given the opportunity to release the chains that bind my heart when I hold an offense against another person. We are blessed.

 

On Changes and Eggs

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I love to get a good deal. It’s almost a hobby. I say almost, because the truth is, I’m only obsessive about it sometimes and then I get bored. I guess I’m like that in a lot of areas, but I digress. One deal I recently ran into allowed me to get several new magazine subscriptions for free! Big smile!  FREE!!!!  (Mental picture of me standing on my dining room table screaming “Freedom” William Wallace style…don’t worry I didn’t really do that). I snagged some magazines for my hubby and a few that I’d never read but seemed relatively intriguing. I totally dig reading and sometimes crave the randomness found in a magazine so I was thrilled.

The crazy thing that I’m realizing though is that as I peruse through the articles before me, I find myself inspired in so many different ways. I’m instantly ready to try something new. Not earth shattering, morality, changing kind of stuff of course. As everyone who knows me can tell you I’m stubborn and opinionated about virtually everything of importance. Rather, I’m ready to try new things in the mundane areas of my life. I’m willing to completely reinvent my hairdo on a whim or change my wardrobe just to experiment. I’ll want to redecorate my house for no reason, other than maybe the kids left a mess so rather than just clean it, I’ll redo it ALL.

Maybe I should find some crazy art deco piece at a garage sale and paint the house to match or use it to inspire a new outfit or cut up an old outfit and sew it back together with remnants from other outfits to catch the spirit of the piece that so uniquely expresses me…or who I want to be.

I realize this sounds incredibly crazy. But the beauty of it is found in the fact that I am allowed to be who I am. I am free to be ME and I guess a part of me is still unburying who that really is from under my former life. I try not to talk too much about my past, but the truth is, here on the other side looking back I gain so much perspective and appreciation for where I am now.

I had an epiphany last week while stealing eggs from my husband. I cannot make that sentence make sense without a little bit of back-story, so indulge me.

My ex husband was extremely controlling (understatement alert). I wasn’t allowed to eat certain foods because he didn’t like them. That even sounds weird to me as I type it, but it was my life. Rather than fight and suffer the consequences of arguing with him, I ate my eggs scrambled for TEN years! (There were a myriad of other issues far more extreme than this that led to our divorce – disclaimer – I didn’t divorce over eggs…moving on). After the wedding, so many things that were uniquely me were forced into isolation. I had to hide who I was in so many areas for so long that I cannot describe the freedom that comes with being able to breathe again.

My daughter once told me that when I started dating my husband, there were things she thought were an act for his benefit that she later realized were actually the real me who she’d never known. A sad and scary sentence but it is so true. I am now a completely free woman who is married to her hero and best friend and who can eat her eggs any way she likes, which brings me full circle.

Last week, James was eating his breakfast and I stole a bite of his eggs (cooked over medium) and remembered that my entire life, minus ten ridiculous years, I ate my eggs over medium and now I am free to eat them that way again.

I can also wear clothes that I like. I can keep my hair short, long, medium, wavy, straight or in a bun. I can sing as loudly as I want in my own home. I can rearrange the furniture or paint the kitchen or cook for hours. I can work or clean or write or read or play my guitar without repercussions. I am FREE!!!

I’ve also learned that allowing myself to hide from who I am is insulting to me and to God who made me just like this and who cares about my silly thoughts. He loves me for me. My husband loves me for me. I am happy.

Movement

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This morning when I woke up, the outer bands of Isaac were still making their way across Southwest Florida. It was beautiful. We slept peacefully last night to the sound of the rain. School was cancelled so we didn’t have to get up at five AM which was a plus.

I looked out the window and saw strips and gatherings of clouds scattered across the sky moving as if with a mission setting off to find their allies. They are still moving quickly, leaving enough space between them to let small banners of sunlight peek through.

I am praying for those on the other end of the Gulf Coast who may be impacted far more than we were. I pray that Isaac will dissipate completely before ever reaching land.

The thing that keeps striking me this morning though is the movement. When I opened the Bible this morning, the first scripture jumping off the page at me was Isaiah 55:10-11 “For as the rain comes down and the snow from heaven, And do not return there, but water the earth and make it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the earth. So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth. It shall not return to me void, but it shall accomplish what I please and it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.”

I keep looking out the window at the clouds moving by like an army marching to battle. I can’t help but stare at the canal behind my house where the water is moving faster than ever; drops marching collectively as if to the cadence of a masterful drummer. That’s how His word is. It’s sent forth with a specific purpose into the earth. Every word designed and precisely ordered to accomplish what He pleases.

We are going to be held accountable for our words. Are the words we speak designed to produce life or do we merely speak just for the sake of talking? Are we diligent about loving the lost or are we quick to use our tongues as swords against them?

I pray that my actions, thoughts and words are in cadence with the rhythm coming forth from the throne of God. I pray the words of my mouth and meditations of my heart would be acceptable in His sight. (Psalm 19:14) Perhaps as we move in purpose, it will make way for His light to shine through the shadows.

Even though the rain must fall from time to time, His light is always there enveloping the earth with warmth and abundance. His love invaded the earth to overthrow sin and death that once held us captive. I, for one, desire to follow Him to battle and help to release the prisoners of war still bound and longing to taste freedom. I pray my actions and my words always reflect that.

Our words should be like water to the thirsty soul. Our mouths should be carriers of truth to the parched earth below. We should see life and good fruit from what we say and do.

Isaiah 55 also says that His thoughts are not our thoughts and His ways are not our ways. I know His ways are so much higher than ours yet I can’t help but desire that His desires would become my desires. I want to think like He does and connect with His heartbeat. I know that so often I am not tuned into His cadence and His voice. I am thankful that He brings the occasional windy, rainy, storm to come along and recapture my attention.

Majesty

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Wading deeply into light (formless substance we are unable to hold still more solid than any reality)

Your cloak composed of starlight

Bright fire from your eyes escapes to cover the earth with heat

Majestic you rise to take your place

A realm man cannot fathom

Vast beyond dream yet existing in…on…around

You only, are everything

I am small but I am yours

Yesterday morning while coming home from taking my daughter to school, I was struck by the majesty of this sunrise (this photo doesn’t even begin to capture it but it was the best I could do while driving). The sun stood low in the sky but was larger than I’d ever seen it. I couldn’t help but worship as I thought about the son of the living God who watches over us with His infinite love and grace rising to take his place on the throne of my heart.

I’m continually awed by the thought that the God who stretched out the heavens with his hands, who spoke everything into being, loves ME enough to reach into my life and redeem me. I am so small in the grand scheme of things but he knows & loves ME. That baffles me.

I am in His thoughts and they are good! “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11

He rejoices over me, sings over me and comforts me. “The Lord your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.”  Zephaniah 3:17

I believe if we ever really got ahold of that we would never be the same. I am comforted daily by a comforter who wraps me up in his presence and quiets me with his love. It doesn’t get better than that.

I don’t serve God out of fear or to obtain a “get out of hell free” card. I serve the Lord because I am captured and amazed by a love that lights my darkness and intimately adores me. I serve the Lord because His life is abundant. I serve the Lord because I can’t imagine loving him more but I earnestly desire to spend the rest of my life growing in love for him.

All he ever asked for was all of me and I intend to hold nothing back. That is the only reasonable thing I can do.