Note: I had a conversation with God Wednesday morning and while I won't post all of it here, I found that looking back through and picking out parts of it that are less specific is actually more helpful. Some of it I think my friends might be happy to hear - at least the parts about the spiritual fascination. I'm fighting off some sort of illness I think which has made me very tired, but I feel like I still should put something down here. Actually, I'm beginning to wonder if my attempts to progress in several areas and the good fellowship with God and church family is WHY I'm feeling so weird...that unseen world fights back hard sometimes.
I was honored to be at a prayer meeting that same night that God and I spoke and there were some very beautiful people there and lovely things that were said. It was pretty cool. I have been trying to be more vocal (as in, with my audible voice), but I'm not sure how well I'm succeeding. Anyway, I'll put down a few thoughts beginning with the selected parts of my 'conversation'. To me, writing can be a form of prayer and certainly was in this case.
Me: "Through the most recent chapter of my journey...You've been there."
"I should come to You always for intimate discourse."
"You are sovereign, patient, gracious, merciful, and really do have only the best for me in mind. Please help me to remember that in days and years to come."
God: "I think that what you were thinking about (earlier) was good and right. You are not fascinated so much with the darkness of the supernatural as the supernatural world itself. So in those times where the darkness seems more attractive to focus on, it should be a conscious decision on your part to turn your attention back to the 'light'. Its not always a temptation...but be vigilant, alert, mindful of your thoughts and attentions...."
"I have a purpose for everything, even when you don't listen to me.... Neither you or anyone else has the power to derail my plan whatever the mistakes. You give yourself too much power sometimes."
There was a quote that was given at the prayer meeting (several actually, but this was I found very special) that really touched me. It's from Richard Foster. "If we genuinely love people, we desire for them far more than it is within our power to give, and that will cause us to pray. The inner sense of compassion is one of the clearest indications from the Lord that this is a prayer project for you."
Friday, January 16, 2015
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Hrum Hrooom... TypeBeard Typeth...Buruum 0.o
I was planning on blogging tonight on a God conversation I had this morning as well as some thoughts and reflections from the prayer meeting tonight. However in the past hour I have discovered that I am in far too wacky of a mood and doubt that I would have the fortitude between the maniacal giggling (always a tell-tale sign of exhaustion) to sit down long enough to do so. So before I get to the stage where I begin wondering if I have somewhere injured relationships or done something wrong or otherwise be sad-silly I believe I shall retire and wake to write another day. Goodnight! 0.o :D 0.o! *blink, yawn*
Thursday, January 8, 2015
Writer's Group Writing Prompt
Author's Note: So, tonight I went to my first ever West Shore Writer's Group at my church. I'd been meaning to do that for years, and finally made it tonight. Honestly, I had SUCH a good time! I'm so glad that I went! One of the things we did was a writing prompt with a 5 minute window to write. I am blogging now what I wrote during that prompt. Now just to give you a point of reference, before I went into the group, I was nearly in tears because I was stressing over financial issues (namely the inadequate heating at home during a bitter cold few days). But despite that, during the writing prompt, this short 'poem' I'll call it regarding 'Courage' came out. I am considering it a blessing because despite everything else, God's positivism came out and it was not my doing at all. God simply speaks for Himself. Those are always the best. And to my surprise and delight, (even though it wasn't really me) the group loved it and had rave reviews for it. :) I say that not to brag, but to express my joy in the warm, fuzzy feeling that the affirmation gave me. Yes, even for me, the occasional 'warm fuzzies' are a GOOD and needed thing. ;)
The actual prompt was: Demonstrate or personify either Cowardice or Courage.
The actual prompt was: Demonstrate or personify either Cowardice or Courage.
Courage
Looking yourself in the face and saying, "I accept you, but let's grow."
Looking at grief and saying, "Yes. It hurts. But I will learn rather than grow bitter."
Looking at an enemy and saying, "You don't have to like me. You can even abuse me. But I will love you in return."
Looking at what you fear the most and walking up to shake its hand.
Looking at your child and saying, "Follow me. Learn from me."
(any parent will understand how terrify *that* can be)
Looking at a past that has defined you
Nodding and saying, "Its been nice knowing you."
Looking at past accomplishments and realizing you learned more from your defeats
Looking at the sunset and anticipating dawn
Looking at the cross and remembering resurrection
Looking at death and focusing on the rest of your life
Even if you have only moments remaining
Friday, January 2, 2015
Riding Out The Storm (Reflections on Noah)
Author's Note: Once again, this is still a rough draft and work-in-progress
Sometimes we're asked to go through the flood. Trouble or sorrow pours from the sky. I think sometimes its natural for us to wonder if our troubles are a punishment for our actions, even if there is no obvious wrong-doing we can pin-point. Job asked God to reveal any sin that he had committed to deserve his sufferings even though his end conclusion was that he had not sinned. (He asked 'why', what the reason was for his suffering.) But Noah wasn't being punished. His struggle in going through the flood was actually an indication of God's approval of him. He did follow God, He did serve Him faithfully in a world full of perversion and sin. Noah's reward for faithful service was a safe haven through the storm (which he had to work to build I might add). He wasn't spared the flood by any means, and a very heavy responsibility was laid of him (the preservation of all human and animal life). But Noah, unlike the rest of the world around him, survived. Noah, despite every rain-drop and pitch of the sea, was the one man used to continue God's plan.
Unlike Noah, we are rarely given a set date when the rains would stop, nor always a warning before-hand, though maybe there are signs that we do not see or recognize.
Riding out the storm, being kept afloat.
Noah kept sending out hope for life. Over and over again he sent out the bird, until FINALLY... a living branch came back.
I would like to believe that in my current flood God is promising me too that He will never put my world through this kind of (financial) devastation, but the truth is, I probably will not know that in so clear a way. -- Even after the flood had passed, I'm sure it wasn't easy trying to rebuild the world. In fact, in Noah's case, there is clear evidence that it wasn't. Even after the rainbow of promise. But, life did go on, the world was rebuilt, and Noah's descendants marked a new beginning not only for his family but for God's restoration plan.
Sometimes we're asked to go through the flood. Trouble or sorrow pours from the sky. I think sometimes its natural for us to wonder if our troubles are a punishment for our actions, even if there is no obvious wrong-doing we can pin-point. Job asked God to reveal any sin that he had committed to deserve his sufferings even though his end conclusion was that he had not sinned. (He asked 'why', what the reason was for his suffering.) But Noah wasn't being punished. His struggle in going through the flood was actually an indication of God's approval of him. He did follow God, He did serve Him faithfully in a world full of perversion and sin. Noah's reward for faithful service was a safe haven through the storm (which he had to work to build I might add). He wasn't spared the flood by any means, and a very heavy responsibility was laid of him (the preservation of all human and animal life). But Noah, unlike the rest of the world around him, survived. Noah, despite every rain-drop and pitch of the sea, was the one man used to continue God's plan.
Unlike Noah, we are rarely given a set date when the rains would stop, nor always a warning before-hand, though maybe there are signs that we do not see or recognize.
Riding out the storm, being kept afloat.
Noah kept sending out hope for life. Over and over again he sent out the bird, until FINALLY... a living branch came back.
I would like to believe that in my current flood God is promising me too that He will never put my world through this kind of (financial) devastation, but the truth is, I probably will not know that in so clear a way. -- Even after the flood had passed, I'm sure it wasn't easy trying to rebuild the world. In fact, in Noah's case, there is clear evidence that it wasn't. Even after the rainbow of promise. But, life did go on, the world was rebuilt, and Noah's descendants marked a new beginning not only for his family but for God's restoration plan.
Monday, November 24, 2014
Jeremiah 31:31-34
If you've spent any amount of time at all in the church, you've likely heard the term Law vs. Grace, which is what this passage speaks of. Most of the Old Testament speaks of how God set up the law as His special covenant between His people and Himself. So... why the change? Why the need for a new covenant? It certainly wasn't because the original Law and covenant was bad. God didn't change it because He had to. He could have decided to wipe out the entire fallen creation that He had made because we had hurt Him so grievously, and a few times (as with Noah and the Ark) He very nearly did. But instead, in His love, God saw the frailty of man and His weakness and IN LOVE He made another way. He saw how difficult it would be for us to keep His perfect law, so in love, He gave us Jesus to cover all our sins, even the ones we have yet to commit. If held to the true standard of holiness, we would never measure up. So He made a way in the wilderness. (Isaiah 43)
We hear this a lot, and we do live now under grace, not the law. But do we really believe it? We say it, but so often it seems that we try to attribute a strict, works-based love onto God. We try to do all kinds of good deeds as though this will somehow make us more worthy of God's love. We try not to do bad things that might make God angry or ashamed and somehow love us less. That's not how grace works. Nothing good we can do will make God love us more, because He can't love us any more than He already does. Nothing we can do will be so bad that He will love us less. (which I certainly find encouraging!) We do try to please Him because it is the right thing to do (according to the law), but let us try to respond as God first did to us, with love being the first reason for doing anything.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Jesus Laughter
{Author's Note: As usual, I find that there is still a great deal of room for editing and revising in this short story. But I laughed as the idea was coming to me in my car on the way home from the grocery store. As often in my life as I write, only occasionally will I write a song or a story that feels different. While some of the poetry and other things I write are technically good in a literary sense, its the few that don't come from me at all that feel the best. Words that I cannot truthfully attribute to myself because... well, I don't write "fluffy stuff". *sniff* :) And yet... somehow the ones I might in some sense term "fluffy", that don't come from me at all, turn out the best... Not that this is perfect yet, but the concept certainly wasn't mine. The concept was beyond me, and therefore much better than anything I could think to write. It does remind me a little of 'Footprints', a poem which I have loved since I was a child, but I did not mean at all to replicate it. This just stands alone. I will post some pictures to go with it later when I come back for editing. And anyway... writing it made me smile. Thank You, Father. Your timing is perfect.}
One night, a troubled young women struggled to sleep. Every mistake that she'd made in her life seemed to haunt her now when she needed rest the most, and every worry and shame that had collected in her years of living seemed to pour our into the writhing vessel of her mind. When sleep finally came, she had a dream.
She opened her eyes and found herself in heaven. All around her was soft, brilliant light that did not hurt to look at, yet there was no sun. As she looked around to find the source of the light, she found a man standing next to her. It was Jesus, and the sight of Him standing there, and even more than that the absolute delight in His eyes to see her, stole her breath away. She did not know quite what to do. No words would come, so she found herself sinking into a kneel. With her eyes downcast, she could not see His smile, but she could feel it as He knelt down and took her hands. "Come now beloved, rise. I appreciate the praise, but we have things to talk about."
She rose as His hands gently lifted her and dared to look at His face. Tears came freely as she realized that the love in His eyes was saying something just to her; He utterly cherished her. He lifted a hand to wipe the tears away, then took her hand smiling. "Come." He invited.
He led her along a gold-paved street beside mansions and dwellings far more fabulous than she had ever imagined and she could only stare around her in awe. He finally stopped at the gates of a courtyard to one mansion that seemed to be only half-made. The gate itself was opened wide and as Jesus led her inside to the courtyard beyond, somehow she felt that this place seemed extremely familiar. The opened gate held her eyes. Jesus told her warmly, "You let me in long ago. And since then we've kept the door open wide." Not too far away on one side of a grand set of marbled steps leading up, an angel gracefully swept away at what appeared to be ashes. The ashes were the only dark thing to be seen. As she wondered at this, she looked up at Jesus. "What is this place? Who does this mansion belong to?"
Jesus laughed. Funny, all the times she had imagined Jesus smiling never once had she imagined the sound of his laugh. The sound of it sang to her soul. It sang of joy, but even more of freedom. "Why beloved, don't you know? This mansion belongs to you."
A thrill of excitement filled her at once, Though unfinished, the part of the structure that stood was more magnificent than anything she had yet seen. As she looked around the courtyard, she saw a large, well-tended garden with many sparkling crystalline fountains, latticed arches adorned with roses, and many perfectly constructed statues carved out of pure gold, silver or pearl. The part of the house that stood had many sparkling pillars and countless turrets and with silken flags of every brilliant color one could imagine. The sweep of the angel's broom came to her ears and brought her back to that one unpleasant thought, and she looked back at the angel again who was sweeping the ashes. She gasped. Where the angel was sweeping, the shimmering shape of a statue had begun to appear. The more the angel swept, the grander the statue grew and the darker were the ashes that lay at its feet seeming now as discarded shavings. Jesus had been watching her closely. "Jesus!" She said in amazement.
"Yes." He answered. "I see."
"What do the ashes and the statue mean?" She said in wonder.
"The ashes are your past. As the old remnants of past hurt and despair are swept away, something beautiful is erected from within them." This pronouncement should have been met with wonder, and at first it was. But the smile then faded from her face and her eyes were downcast again. "What is it that saddens you?" He asked.
"Jesus," She sad sadly. "It hasn't felt lately as though the past has gone away. The hurt seems to stay with me. The consequences of my sins from long ago... they seem to follow me with every step and weigh on me so heavily that I can barely breathe." Jesus said nothing, but listened quietly. The young woman found that they were sitting on plush cushions now one of the many marble benches in the garden, but now that she had begun speaking with Jesus directly, nothing else seemed to matter except that her thoughts and hurts be poured out to Him.
"I've made so many mistakes in my life." She said. "And while I know You've forgiven me, still it seems that the consequences won't let me go. I feel like I've failed so many people, disappointed so many that I love. You've given me Godly friends whom I cherish, and they are there for me Lord when I need them, they bless me with so many things. But I feel that I have nothing left to give them in return. As others now make my life brighter, I feel as though nothing I have done has made things better for them. And even though You've saved me, my sins are still so many." She began to cry again.
Jesus held her hand and allowed her to cry for a while, then finally rose and drew her up with Him. "Come." He said very gently. "See what else I have prepared for you."
He led her into the main entryway of the mansion, then to a ballroom nearby where a marble floor was being laid by many cheerful workers. "See." Jesus invited. "See the sparkle glowing deeply in the marble's polish, the way it reflects My light, the way it reflects the grandness all around us."
"Yes." She agreed. "Its unfinished, but still beautiful." She said, wondering faintly why he had not responded to her words in the garden.
"Unfinished, but beautiful." He smiled at her in such a loving and knowing way that her lingering tears immediately dried up. "This floor beloved, began being laid when you lost your job just the other day."
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "When I lost my job. But I feel such a failure for that. Why is there a thing of beauty for something I've lost?"
"It is being laid for tomorrow, when you will trust me anyway despite the uncertainty. And for the next opportunity that I send your way because of your continued faith. Of such, beloved, are your treasures here made."
He led her on pointing out other beautiful items, masterwork tapestries and paintings, statuary and glistening things that were half-begun and relating them to her life. They entered what seemed to be a trophy room. The plaques on the wall glistened like many-colored stars and she saw things written on them like, 'Cried for the homeless man you saw along the highway.' 'Prayed for the boy that was mean to you at school.' 'Forgave your mother for neglecting you.' 'Rejoiced at seeing a friend come to Me.' 'Kept trying even when you failed.' Many, many places there were plaques that read simply, 'Loved as I have loved.' "You have a great capacity for that one." Jesus said when He saw her counting these.
He gestured for her to look at a glass display case set against the wall. "Look." He said. She did as He bid and inside the velvet-lined case she saw crystal casks filled with the most pure and perfect gems she had ever seen. And beside each one was the name of one of her friends. "You feel as though you cannot give anything back to the friends that love you in My name. These treasures I will give to them in your name. I store them here. They will soon receive them for loving you as I do." Understanding flooded her eyes along with happy tears as she looked up at him in joy. "All of this that you see is but a taste."
As they continued to look around the half-finished mansion, a thought occurred to her and she asked, "Lord, on the plaques in the trophy room. I didn't see any that mentioned the time I helped at the food pantry, or sang at church, or baby-sat my friends children. Weren't those good things?"
"Yes." He answered. "They were good deeds. But the deeds themselves don't make much difference here." The continued walking and as they did, she thought of her life, of all of the things she felt she had messed up, all the struggles, all the confusion, the pain, the frustration she felt for herself when she messed up, for not being able to serve as fully and often as she felt she should. She thought of all of her failings and all the little things that kept her up at night worrying, She thought how infinitely small it all was compared to this. And how those things seemed to disappear entirely with Jesus there walking beside her. It was impossible to despair with him there.
The two of them walked out into the garden together and to her the light seemed to have melted into all of the vivid, but lovely colors of sunset. He turned to her one last time now a silhouette against a lavender sky. "You see beloved, it's not what you do that matters. Because there's nothing wrong that you do that I have not already covered, and nothing right you do that can earn you more of my love." The image of Jesus and heaven began to rapidly fade, though His voice did not. The dream was nearly gone from her sight as His voice carried after her. "Despite every hurt along the journey, what matters is how you follow...."
One night, a troubled young women struggled to sleep. Every mistake that she'd made in her life seemed to haunt her now when she needed rest the most, and every worry and shame that had collected in her years of living seemed to pour our into the writhing vessel of her mind. When sleep finally came, she had a dream.
She opened her eyes and found herself in heaven. All around her was soft, brilliant light that did not hurt to look at, yet there was no sun. As she looked around to find the source of the light, she found a man standing next to her. It was Jesus, and the sight of Him standing there, and even more than that the absolute delight in His eyes to see her, stole her breath away. She did not know quite what to do. No words would come, so she found herself sinking into a kneel. With her eyes downcast, she could not see His smile, but she could feel it as He knelt down and took her hands. "Come now beloved, rise. I appreciate the praise, but we have things to talk about."
She rose as His hands gently lifted her and dared to look at His face. Tears came freely as she realized that the love in His eyes was saying something just to her; He utterly cherished her. He lifted a hand to wipe the tears away, then took her hand smiling. "Come." He invited.
He led her along a gold-paved street beside mansions and dwellings far more fabulous than she had ever imagined and she could only stare around her in awe. He finally stopped at the gates of a courtyard to one mansion that seemed to be only half-made. The gate itself was opened wide and as Jesus led her inside to the courtyard beyond, somehow she felt that this place seemed extremely familiar. The opened gate held her eyes. Jesus told her warmly, "You let me in long ago. And since then we've kept the door open wide." Not too far away on one side of a grand set of marbled steps leading up, an angel gracefully swept away at what appeared to be ashes. The ashes were the only dark thing to be seen. As she wondered at this, she looked up at Jesus. "What is this place? Who does this mansion belong to?"
Jesus laughed. Funny, all the times she had imagined Jesus smiling never once had she imagined the sound of his laugh. The sound of it sang to her soul. It sang of joy, but even more of freedom. "Why beloved, don't you know? This mansion belongs to you."
A thrill of excitement filled her at once, Though unfinished, the part of the structure that stood was more magnificent than anything she had yet seen. As she looked around the courtyard, she saw a large, well-tended garden with many sparkling crystalline fountains, latticed arches adorned with roses, and many perfectly constructed statues carved out of pure gold, silver or pearl. The part of the house that stood had many sparkling pillars and countless turrets and with silken flags of every brilliant color one could imagine. The sweep of the angel's broom came to her ears and brought her back to that one unpleasant thought, and she looked back at the angel again who was sweeping the ashes. She gasped. Where the angel was sweeping, the shimmering shape of a statue had begun to appear. The more the angel swept, the grander the statue grew and the darker were the ashes that lay at its feet seeming now as discarded shavings. Jesus had been watching her closely. "Jesus!" She said in amazement.
"Yes." He answered. "I see."
"What do the ashes and the statue mean?" She said in wonder.
"The ashes are your past. As the old remnants of past hurt and despair are swept away, something beautiful is erected from within them." This pronouncement should have been met with wonder, and at first it was. But the smile then faded from her face and her eyes were downcast again. "What is it that saddens you?" He asked.
"Jesus," She sad sadly. "It hasn't felt lately as though the past has gone away. The hurt seems to stay with me. The consequences of my sins from long ago... they seem to follow me with every step and weigh on me so heavily that I can barely breathe." Jesus said nothing, but listened quietly. The young woman found that they were sitting on plush cushions now one of the many marble benches in the garden, but now that she had begun speaking with Jesus directly, nothing else seemed to matter except that her thoughts and hurts be poured out to Him.
"I've made so many mistakes in my life." She said. "And while I know You've forgiven me, still it seems that the consequences won't let me go. I feel like I've failed so many people, disappointed so many that I love. You've given me Godly friends whom I cherish, and they are there for me Lord when I need them, they bless me with so many things. But I feel that I have nothing left to give them in return. As others now make my life brighter, I feel as though nothing I have done has made things better for them. And even though You've saved me, my sins are still so many." She began to cry again.
Jesus held her hand and allowed her to cry for a while, then finally rose and drew her up with Him. "Come." He said very gently. "See what else I have prepared for you."
He led her into the main entryway of the mansion, then to a ballroom nearby where a marble floor was being laid by many cheerful workers. "See." Jesus invited. "See the sparkle glowing deeply in the marble's polish, the way it reflects My light, the way it reflects the grandness all around us."
"Yes." She agreed. "Its unfinished, but still beautiful." She said, wondering faintly why he had not responded to her words in the garden.
"Unfinished, but beautiful." He smiled at her in such a loving and knowing way that her lingering tears immediately dried up. "This floor beloved, began being laid when you lost your job just the other day."
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "When I lost my job. But I feel such a failure for that. Why is there a thing of beauty for something I've lost?"
"It is being laid for tomorrow, when you will trust me anyway despite the uncertainty. And for the next opportunity that I send your way because of your continued faith. Of such, beloved, are your treasures here made."
He led her on pointing out other beautiful items, masterwork tapestries and paintings, statuary and glistening things that were half-begun and relating them to her life. They entered what seemed to be a trophy room. The plaques on the wall glistened like many-colored stars and she saw things written on them like, 'Cried for the homeless man you saw along the highway.' 'Prayed for the boy that was mean to you at school.' 'Forgave your mother for neglecting you.' 'Rejoiced at seeing a friend come to Me.' 'Kept trying even when you failed.' Many, many places there were plaques that read simply, 'Loved as I have loved.' "You have a great capacity for that one." Jesus said when He saw her counting these.
He gestured for her to look at a glass display case set against the wall. "Look." He said. She did as He bid and inside the velvet-lined case she saw crystal casks filled with the most pure and perfect gems she had ever seen. And beside each one was the name of one of her friends. "You feel as though you cannot give anything back to the friends that love you in My name. These treasures I will give to them in your name. I store them here. They will soon receive them for loving you as I do." Understanding flooded her eyes along with happy tears as she looked up at him in joy. "All of this that you see is but a taste."
As they continued to look around the half-finished mansion, a thought occurred to her and she asked, "Lord, on the plaques in the trophy room. I didn't see any that mentioned the time I helped at the food pantry, or sang at church, or baby-sat my friends children. Weren't those good things?"
"Yes." He answered. "They were good deeds. But the deeds themselves don't make much difference here." The continued walking and as they did, she thought of her life, of all of the things she felt she had messed up, all the struggles, all the confusion, the pain, the frustration she felt for herself when she messed up, for not being able to serve as fully and often as she felt she should. She thought of all of her failings and all the little things that kept her up at night worrying, She thought how infinitely small it all was compared to this. And how those things seemed to disappear entirely with Jesus there walking beside her. It was impossible to despair with him there.
The two of them walked out into the garden together and to her the light seemed to have melted into all of the vivid, but lovely colors of sunset. He turned to her one last time now a silhouette against a lavender sky. "You see beloved, it's not what you do that matters. Because there's nothing wrong that you do that I have not already covered, and nothing right you do that can earn you more of my love." The image of Jesus and heaven began to rapidly fade, though His voice did not. The dream was nearly gone from her sight as His voice carried after her. "Despite every hurt along the journey, what matters is how you follow...."
Monday, November 10, 2014
Abstract
Abstract world
Not part of body, but of mind
Endless thoughts that are so unkind
A little mind with thoughts too grand
To sort out or to understand
What good the theory or the shame?
Conjecture sours when faced with pain
With broken smile I face the rain
Persistent storm without a name
With open arms I greet its flood
Its waters thicker than my blood
Resolved to meet determined fate
Am I early, am I late?
Surrendered now, or just resigned?
It won't hold back the hands of time
Love was grand in infancy
But left a broken heart is misery
With its raw, consuming power
Its brittle walls become a crumbling tower
Betrayed its friend to the enemy
Till ruin is all that's left of me
Perhaps a day, perhaps infinity
I'm too weary now to care to see
Where the war has left its charge
Too few victories, too many battle scars
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