Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Good to evil was the start of it all.
One choice. One action. One bite, chewed, but not yet digested.
Now healing to pain.
Justice to corruption.
Holy to fallen.
Love to apathy.
Joy to sorrow.
Closeness to separation.
Hope to despair.
Restoration, it comes not in the form of many, but in One.
One name to make the evil one scream.
One faith that was pure.
One man that was flawless, unconventional.
One message that hastened the stake, the wood, the cross.
One death that unraveled the pathologic foundation of the humankind.
One blood atoning for all.
One empty tomb, fulfilling the stories of old, signifying the finality of THE transaction.
One promised Spirit, that emboldens, sustains.
One world turned upside down.
One old law replaced by a new one, branded on souls instead of tablets.
One life shaken, stirred to restlessness.
One pursuit and divine revelation.
One surrender, many trusts, and continual abandonment, lovely but hard.
One faith that is strong because of the strong One.
One daughter, single and waiting.
One Father, One husband, good and adoring.
One path, rugged and steep; littered with fullness, peace, and joy. love.
Death to life.
This is my story.
After taking full advantage of the cheap thrill that is called -asking intrusive questions to the stranger sitting next to you (also known as flying), I find myself here, in Kansas City.
When I wasn't engrossed in conversation with the man sitting next to me, I found myself thinking about the concept of dissonance; a chord that hints at bitter, but is so close to being sweet. Unrest. In need of resolve.
Turbulence. It reminds me that I am flying, not in control. There is comfort in the shaking, healthy fear that makes your heart beat just a little bit louder.
Burning in your lungs. It reminds you that there is a price to pay for moving faster. Physically taxing, yes, but one can push through.
Acne. Ah, the ever constant reminder that perfection cannot be attained. Insecurity down played by Cover Girl. As if a mask is large enough to hide every seen flaw.
Flowers. At funerals. The prose that a bright spring follows the darkest of winters. New life enters and seasoned life flees, only to happen again.
Sunday. The week does not end on Friday, good Friday. Thankful for Sunday, a weekly reminder that consonance was achieved on the last day of the week. Harmony, the story that ends with the truth: love wins.
Turbulence. It reminds me that I haven't arrived. I am in process, work in progress, on this Journey towards Jesus. One must pass through Friday to arrive at Sunday. Father, would you take me there?
Sunday, June 26, 2011
I love it when the Spirit of God kisses your soul.
Today was one of those days.
You know, the kind of day where you revisit your journal several times -- only to update it with "Holy Ghost".
*Rewind* The past 3 weeks of my life have been peppered with the notion of belief.
You either believe or you don't. You cannot have both. No, I say not. They do not work like Peanut Butter and Jelly. They are not fabulous dance partners; rather, they sit on two extreme sides of the fork in the road and demand only one choice.
There are 3 mountains in my life.
Mountains that are just waiting to be addressed, waiting to be moved.
What stands between me and receiving the whispered fruits of my tender Father?
It is a daily decision. It is radical. It can be accelerated. And today, I lived in that reality.
Pedal to the metal! Or is it Medal? (I'm not very good with getting sayings right...)
Today, I smiled and chose to believe that these mountains will move. It is only a matter of time, and really, time is irrelevant. I am finding that the process of reckless belief is just as rewarding as what I imagine the fruit will be.
So I wait, some more, and position myself to receive what is coming.Victory is coming. And it's all because of Jesus. I can just taste it. It will be delicious.
Abba, draw me after You, and let us run.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
He is on a journey, an adventure of sorts. He finds his way to a tree-lined driveway and turns in. Parked. He is facing the house. Inside that glass door are the demons from his past.
Faced with a decision, he decides to entertain them.
He goes inside.
He is no longer the man that we knew. He has regressed. Life sucked out of his bones; marrow is gone. He is dry.
I am watching, screaming; he cannot hear. Running towards him, my feet take me no where; helpless.
The door closes behind him.
Actively engaged in his past, and the opportunity to escape the moment; FINALLY, my feet touch the dirt.
I am running towards him.
Coming up to the glass door, I look inside.
I am afraid, but I know that I must move past that.
I open. I call. He comes.
Standing outside, his eyes are wild. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close.
As if feeling my heart beat and breath on his cheek could bring him back to where he had been for so long. As if it could wake him up from this nightmare he walked into; has shaken hands with.
I whispered into his ear with all authority and urgency.
He wants you. You have to believe. He wants you just as you are. You are never too far gone. Abba longs for you. Wishes life for your soul. Wholeness. Wake up, turn around, He is waiting.
I wake up.
The ending is unknown.
The urgency is real.
He loves and He gave, so that we might believe and turn and live.
May you know that you are never too far gone from His invitation.
That the dark rocks in your life are never too dark for His light to shine on.
That the shame you are carrying is never too heavy for Jesus.
And may you always turn towards the precious woos of your longing Abba.
Today, really is, His day.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
That the world makes most sense on my knees.
That I am done and this is the product of 4 years. 75 questions in 50 minutes.
That I am moving; onward, forward, upward, homeward.
That not knowing what comes next is more than okay.
This much I have decided: my day will be radically successful if it was spent loving God and loving others.
Here is to a new chapter, a sustained pursuit, and the way of brokenness; for it is the way of Jesus.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Questions big and no response.
Waiting. Patiently, I think.
Second guessing historic whispers.
Unspoken insecurity covered up with confidence.
Stirring for something more, something greater.
Faced with the mundane.
Hopeful, but hearing the voice of reality.
Sleeping, for it is the only way you know to find the rest you are looking for.
The voice comes bright in the morning.
"Do you believe?"
Bent but not broken, shaken but still standing, wounded but not scarred.
Today, I believe that Your grace is sufficient for me.
And that is enough.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
(G, whom I love and am lucky enough to share life with)
Two months ago a group of people prayed over my life.
During our time of prayer, the theme of Ruth was spoken over my life.
Ruth received much favor from God during the time of the Barley Harvest -- through the generosity of Boaz.
The Barley Harvest began in the 2nd week of April and is ending today? Tomorrow? I don't really remember.
In these past 6-8 weeks, it is true that I have been walking in undeniable favor from God.
Literally, when I think of it, I am blown away. I have had many Holy Ghost moments, times of unnatural favor, deep connections with Him and His people, and fortunate circumstances.
When I think of God, I think of full hands. Hands that offer my life abundance. Good things.
While this season is coming to an end, I have found myself thinking about the next step.
Full hands are great. Full hands make it easy to be thankful, easy to trust. Full hands make it simple to believe that God's heart towards me is good.
But let's be real.
Full hands aren't forever.
Believing in Jesus, following Him, doesn't mean that you'll live in daily harvest. No. I say not. Jesus didn't promise favor and fortune and full hands for those who choose to follow Him.
He actually said that for those who are serious about this faith thing, others would hate us because of Him. He said that if we were truly following Him, our lives will lead us too to the cross. To imminent death and the end of ourselves.
As this season in my life is coming to a close, I find myself whispering the truth to my soul: even when His hands are empty towards me, His heart has not changed. His heart is still good.
Yes, this season of favor has been nice, but it is not forever.
What do you desire? Do you want a good life in this life? A life that is striving to collect goods, pursue comfort, and fixate on the temporal?
You need Jesus.
Allow me to bring you to Him?
The purpose of this life is to give it up for the eternal one. The signs and wonders and miracles of this life are just that.... SIGNS. They aren't the end, they are meant to point our soul to something more, someone more.
My prayer for your life, for mine, is that we may follow Him not for what He does for us, but for who He is.
(Been here far too much in the past week... yay studying for boards! $1.50 for green tea AND unlimited refills. I think yes! Just one more week of this and I will really be done)
Thursday, June 2, 2011
When you pause. And find yourself without words. Just wanting to weep.
It's not even a hormone thing (shocking, I know).
It's definitely more of a "who am I that God would pour His favor on me" kind of thing.
Today, I had a third interview at a hospital in Phoenix. Truly, truly, walked away an hour later and didn't make it far from the entrance. I parked it on a bench and just sat there. Feeling like I was in a daze, the homeless that passed me gave quizzical looks.
I was reading the Proverb for today and was struck with "He shows favor to the humble."
Last night, before turning out the light, I spent some time in my room. To know me is to know my closet. It is my favorite.
I digress... during my time last night, I was reading through the story of Ruth and asking the Spirit what I could learn from her story. The response I received was clear: her humility when Boaz was generous towards her.
I read and re-read Ruth 2 over and over again and loved her response to Boaz:
"Why have I found such favor in your eyes that you notice me...?"
With humility being far from my strong suit (kind of doesn't mesh with self-righteousness), that became my prayer for today. Waking up this morning and being intentional to strip myself of any tinge of entitlement, I found myself craving this sweet spirit. Skip ahead to this afternoon, and the lack of words, the introduction to tears, sprang from unusual favor in the eyes of a stranger.
And no, I am not perfect. I don't post these things to seek a holy-high-five from you. I tell you this day that my natural tendency would be to wear a mask. To pretend perfection. To mislead you. It is because of the sweet wooing of Jesus Christ and His example of reckless abandonment and intimate surrender that I am anything but the aforementioned. It is His most Holy Spirit in my life that is scrubbing me clean and blowing out the cobwebs of my locked and dirty closet... One trusting step and sacred hallelujah at a time.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
I am craving pizza. I am going to have to settle for broccoli.
Just a quick thought!
I was talking with a friend yesterday about -How can you tell that God is near if you don't tangibly feel Him? And how do you know if you feel God's nearness? What does it feel like?
All are great questions.
My answer came in the form of an analogy (welcome to my mind). A few weeks ago, I was home alone and laying out in the backyard. My rambunctious dog was running about, wet as usual, and refused to leave me alone. He can be kind of cute at times, but most times he's annoying.
This time was no exception. He would jump in the pool, sop up water, and come erp on me. It was pretty gross actually ;)
All that to say, I was laying out, on my back, eyes closed, thinking of everything and nothing when I had this impression that he was near. I opened my eyes and saw him perched right next to me. His head was over my legs, but he wasn't touching me.
I remember smiling and thinking that this is how God exposes Himself in my life. Not always touching, tangibly feeling Him, but He's near. Near enough to cast a shadow over me (the dog was prohibiting the sun from affecting my pasty white legs), near enough to affect me without actually touching me.
The last thought I had was this: have you ever had a guest stay the night in your home? Have you ever gone to bed and woken up in the middle of the night and wondered (panicked) "where is my guest?". Have you gotten up in the middle of the night to run to the guest bedroom only to find them sleeping?
Hopefully, not. Just because it is dark and there are many rooms in your house, just because you are asleep and not interacting with your guest -- doesn't follow that your guest has left you.
Jesus says that if you open He'll come in. He'll share a meal with you. He wants to stay. There is security in that. There is security in His commitment to your life.
My encouragement to you is that if you have opened the door to your private world, welcomed in the only Son of God and are in process of recklessly abandoning your own life, rest in the security that He is there. He is near, even when you can't touch Him, He is close enough to cast a shadow over you.
That is about all I've got.