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The Invitation

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

The steam from her Paris Blend morning tea dances in the breeze floating in through the patio door. It is a pretty morning. The air has that perfect blend of crisp coolness with an undercurrent of warmth. It’s going to be another lovely fall day.

Crystal’s gaze falls on the Japanese Maple in the backyard that is just beginning to turn. Her hard work re-doing the garden is paying off with bright bursts of oranges, yellows and reds as the Mums proudly display their colors.

Stepping outside to fill the bird feeders, she whistles and calls to the doves, crows, finches and various sparrows that grace her yard. Crystal loves that they wait for her every morning. They trusting and count on her. Sometimes she feels like the birds, squirrels and neighborhood cats are her only friends; the ones who look forward to seeing her and notice if she’s off schedule or away from the house. They don’t care whether her hair is wild and untamable, or if her sweats have a hole or two. The longing in her heart pops up again for someone to accept her and her quirks, flaws and humor; someone who will like her and enjoy her company without pretense, expectations and judgment. She wants to belong.

Finishing her egg white omelet and toast, Crystal hears something rustling at her front door. Curious, she wonders what her cats, Dixie and Dude, have gotten into this time. Dixie lounges on the back of the recliner watching while Dude investigates a cream-colored envelope that’s been pushed under her front door.  Lifting it up, there is nothing telling on this envelope except for her name, Crystal, in a font that seems familiar, but she can’t quite place.  It is heavy and looks to be of good quality paper. Hmmm… As she holds the envelope a gentle feeling of peace settles over her shoulders and a lovely warmth spreads through her hands, arms, and chest and seems to hover there, right over her heart. The sensation brings tears to her eyes though she isn’t sure why. The anticipation over what this simple envelope holds rises up and up as she carefully lifts the flap. Crystal slides a crisp, iridescent card out of the envelope and sees that it’s a hand-written invitation in that same beautiful script.

“Your presence is requested at my banquet. Come as you are, Crystal. You are enough. Follow the Light, you will know where to go.”

An invitation to a banquet? She’s never been invited to anything like this before. She’s uncertain what to think and do. What will she wear? It said “come as you are…” There isn’t a return address, or a location listed. How will she know what the Light looks like or where to find it? The anxiety trying to push in and distract her slowly ebbs and fades as she gazes at the envelope. There is something about the handwriting that soothes her mind and spirit. The warm feeling of safety and peace is still there, enfolding her heart.  She feels, more than she hears, a faint whisper reminding her that she knows the way.

In faded jeans and her favorite green shirt, Crystal takes a final look in the mirror. Will she fit in? The invitation says she is enough…

Feeling drawn to the nearby lake, the random words to a song she sang in a church she once attended, flit through her mind…”all who are thirsty…”.

 Approaching the lake, Crystal sees the warm autumn sunlight filtering and shimmering through the branches of the willow tree. It’s breathtaking. “Follow the Light…” the invitation said.

Reaching the tree she sits on the familiar bench, the warmth of the afternoon and the peaceful shushing of the lake lulls and quiets her mind. Her breathing slows.

Looking around, she notices a rustic wooden table that hasn’t been there before. Its simplicity is beautiful. The rough-hewn wood appears to be hand-crafted by a Master carpenter. It’s stunning as it glows and beckons her to take a seat. The chairs around this table have cushions of bright purple with gold thread woven throughout. Moving around the table, she sees her name, Crystal, on a lovely blue place card. Her name is hand-written in the same script as the invitation. This is her place, and she sits down.  

There are other place cards around the table. Each one with a name and a unique script. The space to her left is reserved for Jazz and the one to her right is for Juan Carlos. Interestingly enough the table appears small, but it isn’t. There are so many seats and so many names.

The other invitees arrive with the same look on their faces that Crystal imagines is on her own. Awe, uncertainty and hesitation, yet a longing for community and joy all mixed into one. Bill sits down across from her, joined by Wren, Miriam, Yosef, Carmen, Jessica and Braden. A bit further down Damien, Grace and Vincent find their places at the table. She looks in fascination at each person who takes a seat. The mix of humanity at this table is beautiful. Everyone is so unique and different – life experiences that are intentional and diverse yet connected in a deep and perfect way. Belonging.

Bringing her focus back to the table, Crystal sees the delicacies arranged in front of them. It appears random, yet there is perfect order here. Dishes overflow with fruit, earthen-ware jars filled to the top with honey, and baskets of fragrant, warm bread are interspersed all along the table. At each place is a tall, thin glass with mysterious etchings and symbols carved into them, understood only by the Host. These glasses are filled with clear water that sparkles, shimmers and dances in the Light that filters though the willow branches. The water captivates her with its absolute clarity and a unique fragrance that flows, caresses and feels like love. At the same moment, each guest lifts their cup and drinks deeply; it feels like healing…”all who are thirsty…”

Crystal knows that the Host is here. This is Holy ground and He sits among His guests. Supernaturally, each one of them holds His undivided attention. He speaks, heals, reveals and lavishes joy, peace and belonging on all who are at His banquet. They are all enough. There is no one at the head of this table and no one at the foot. Every place is equal, chosen and important. In His mystery and wisdom, He is everywhere at once ministering exactly what is needed. No one is taking over, minimizing, drowning out, or elevated over another. They all belong because they are all His. Agendas, politics, and man-made idols are not found here. They are not welcome and have been denied access to this banquet. Ahhh…the peace, beauty and tranquility of a table set for everyone.

As His gaze penetrates her soul, the pain and despair of feeling like an outsider and the trauma of rejection, fear and loneliness flow out of her heart and into His hands. He speaks and sings over these things in the language of heaven and Crystal’s heart is cleansed. It feels new, tender and ready to receive Him and He is enough. Her lungs fill with His breath. Her blood flows with His healing. She is ok. She is safe. She belongs to Him and that is enough. She belongs to this family seated around His banquet table. There is a place for her.

The whisper of faint singing rouses her from sleep. How long has she been here? She doesn’t remember falling asleep. This is her quiet place where she comes to talk to Him.  A gentle breeze tickles her neck and fluffs her hair. As she wakes and stretches, Crystal notices something sparkling in the reeds along the water’s edge. Curious, she moves in for a closer look. It’s a piece of gold thread. Smiling, she picks it up and wraps it in her hands, as memories fill her mind of a blessing-laden table, acceptance and her name written on a place card at His banquet.  

Shafts of Light

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

The Gifts wait with anticipation in the incense-filled room. The voices of the beloved rise and fall in a constant blend of timbres and tones, each voice precious, seen and so very loved. The Gifts love to watch the Creator as He gently lifts and listens to each request, praise, cry for help. Sometimes there are no human words, but utterances of the Spirit as deep calls out to deep. These are the voices of His precious ones. Each one cherished. As He lifts each voice and holds it carefully in His hands, He sings and prophesies over it. The Gifts thrum with excitement as they await His command. With a nod of His head, Peace is sent forth. Descending from the heavenlies, Peace makes a way through the swirling turbulence of humanity to the dear one asking her Father to please blanket her in His peace. Gently surrounding, above and below and on all sides, Peace wraps up the precious one and whispers the words to her spirit that it was sent forth to proclaim. She feels the soft warmth begin to soothe and soften her fearful heart.  It is supernatural, this sending forth, as Peace simultaneously, yet personally, ministers to thousands of souls at once – the Father’s voice and love flowing down and through and within each of His children. Mystery.

Next to descend on a golden shaft of light is Joy. With excitement, Joy finds the man who calls out for relief. He is stuck in the never-ending spiral of his daily grind. He wants to feel alive again, so Joy dashes in with bursts of lightness, humor and the beauty of hidden blessings revealed.

At times, the sounds of the rising voices make the Father smile. The Gifts love to see how attentive He is to each and every soul. No one goes unnoticed. No one is lost in the crowd of millions. Each and every voice is completely unique, designed with forethought and purpose; none better than the other, all equal and perfectly loved. There are also times that He weeps with those who mourn. The tears that His beloved cry are never wasted, not one single tear drop. He knows the origin and reason for each one. He meticulously collects them and safely places them in lovely crystal jars that have an eternal purpose and plan. They will not be wasted.  

The next Gifts sent forth are Protection and Healing. These two often travel together. They descend on a powerful beam of light piercing evil and darkness. These Gifts find the ones ensnared and tangled in chains, fear and illness. The Father infuses these gifts with His authority, power and love. Chains break, strongholds crumble, illnesses flee and darkness bows. Gentleness and abounding Mercy follow Protection and Healing, as hearts, souls and bodies are healed, restored and led into His Light.

Discernment and Wisdom respond to His command and travel on gentle shafts of light seeking those who are lost and alone, overwhelmed by choices and clamoring world-voices. These Gifts infuse the overwhelmed soul with calm, direction and clarity straight from the Father’s heart. The webs and twisty-looking paths that shroud the way forward are made clear, as the debris and obstacles of self-reliance are rolled away. Trust accompanies Discernment and Wisdom, as those coming out of the shadows need Trust to clearly hear and follow His voice.

Patiently waiting, Rest is summoned and joyfully descends on a beam of light infused with lovely colors. Rest flows like a sparkling creek and carefully washes away the busyness and exhaustion that covers so many of the beloved. The weariness of fixing, controlling, worrying and rehearsing piles on and sticks to His loved ones like a balm of good works that has gone rancid. In the beginning, the balm feels soothing and necessary, but as rest, peace and joy are sacrificed by the doing and the helping, the balm becomes suffocating and immobilizing. How beautiful it is to see the caked-on debris slough off in the stream of living water that beckons the weary one to rest in green pastures. Victory.

From His omnipresent vantage point, the Creator watches and is pleased as His love-gifts, in radiant light, descend continuously and purposefully to His beloved. He intimately knows where each and every shaft of light is going and declares that these Gifts will not return to Him void but will accomplish all that He desires and declares.

Promises Whispered

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

Bree’s favorite trail isn’t far from home. She can drive there in about 15 minutes, give or take, if you factor in the morning traffic. The aroma of her medium latte macchiato swirls through the truck as it warms her hands at the stoplight. She notices the way the sunbeams hitting the prism hanging from her rearview mirror shatter and regroup into lovely rainbows and shimmery light. The way the colors land on the dashboard and the sleeves of her hoodie bring a soothing feeling of hope and of promises whispered and kept.

The parking lot of the trailhead is partly full. Maybe she can get the clarity and peace she’s seeking this morning without the distraction of other trail-walkers. Freedom to clearly hear and seek the confirmation she’s looking for is uppermost in her mind. There are too many voices with strong opinions, sage advice and “words from the Lord” coming at her from all sides. Everyone has an opinion of what her next steps should be and how they should be taken. A lot of “shoulds”… The chaos is deafening.

Bree knows this trail with its curves, slight hills and beautiful trees that offer shade and bright patches of warm sunlight. It’s her go-to place when the chaos becomes suffocating, and she needs to re-center and re-focus on Jesus and what she knows in her heart He has spoken and promised. To Bree, nature is the sanctuary where she finds Him. Her church. Her sacred place where the living and breathing God of the universe speaks to her through all of her senses. She feels His breath in the breeze, His words sighing through the wind in treetops, His laughter in birdsong and critter chatter, His love in patches of sunlight that gently brush and warm her skin and his peace, that glorious peace. It enfolds her with scents of pine, warm soil, ancient things and nature. Holy.

Moving further along the trail, Bree hears that lovely silence, the gift of the forest. Her mind begins to slough off the voices and the “shoulds”.  The contrasting coolness of the woodsy air and the warmth of the sun penetrating the open spots of the canopy feels brisk and invigorating. Peeling off the hoodie, Bree picks up her pace and savors the competing chill and warmth of the trail. As she ties the hoodie around her waist, she notices the tattoos on her arms. Be Still and Faith over Fear.  In her busyness, she’s forgotten the deep meaning of these words inked onto her skin.  They are reminders of hard, life-changing circumstances, words that she clearly heard Him speak over her and to her – prophesy and promises. Promises…

As her mind wanders back over all she has weathered in her years, Bree remembers the words spoken to her soul through long walks on the beach, the hope given though the laughing song of a rushing creek, the peace from events and circumstances that at first glance appeared random but were truly divine encounters.

Quieting her mind, Bree finds a spot just off the path and sits. She needs to hear from Him. She has questions and is worried about the next steps. She knows the gift she was given and what He asked her to do with it. She did it to the best of her human ability. She did it with excitement, joy and hope but also with fear and worry that she wouldn’t get it right, that it wouldn’t be enough and that she’d ruin it with her imperfections and humanity.  She tried to be a good steward with what she was given. Was it enough? What else should she be doing?

“Please, she whispers, I need to hear from You.”

As the words leave her lips, a feeling of hope and peace settle over her like a light brush of wings and air, a gentle blanket of fragrance that permeates and soothes. The familiar goosebumps she feels when in His presence prick along the nape of her neck and arms. The supernatural is here, a divine encounter. Be still…be still…

Resting in this peace and breathing in the calm, joy, and hope of Him, Bree envisions herself lifting it up, this gift, and placing it back into strong, capable, divine hands that know exactly what needs to be done and how He will do it. She remembers the verse in Isaiah 55:11 (HCSB) that He showed her when He first gave her the gift – “so My word that comes from My mouth will not return to Me empty, but it will accomplish what I please and will prosper in what I send it to do.”

His hands receive it and the cacophony of voices clamoring for attention, giving advice and opinions are silent now. His will prevails and His voice drowns out all else. This. This is what she’s been seeking. This peace that doesn’t make sense, but still is…this knowing, this discernment that speaks to what is and is to come. She needed to remember all the times and ways He has spoken and that she is capable of hearing, discerning and resting in that knowing.

With her spirit and soul refreshed by her divine appointment in the forest, Bree sits a bit longer soaking in the healing balm of nature. Her heart feels hopeful. She is confident again that she will discern the next step when it is time to take it. She will rest in that hope. She will be still and listen to His promises whispered in the wind and dancing through the trees.  

The Gifts

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The Gifts

The day is winding down. Putting on the tea kettle, I stand at the kitchen sink looking over the garden in the slowly dimming light. There are still birds and plump squirrels investigating the bird feeders and taking their evening baths before the sun fully sets.  The frogs in the marshy area of the open space nearby are beginning their evening chorus. Something about their song is soothing and I look forward to this acapella performance as a gift from nature that I get to unwrap.

The shouting kettle calls that it’s teatime, so I pour hot, steamy water into my mug with the word Serenity written in bold, black letters; the aroma of the Portland Blend black tea rising up. My hands are warm from the tea. A sense of calm settles on my shoulders as my mind wanders back over my day, recounting what transpired and all the blessings…

As usual, the dog and cats woke me up early, insistent that the established routine be followed. They don’t forget, so it’s best to get up and start the day – besides, coffee will be waiting! Their dependence on me for all their needs struck me. These beautiful creatures love and need me. It is wonderful to be needed and trusted. The gift of joy and unconditional love they offer in return is invaluable.

After tending to the animals, I spent the morning volunteering with other lovely people who have a heart for those who need extra help feeding their families. I’m tired at the end of the shift, but it’s a good tired. Helping take some of the worry and fear off of the shoulders of a weary mom, a struggling dad, a tired grandma is humbling and it’s a gift.

After lunch, a much-needed chat with some amazing women with the same fears, worries, and unknowns while our sons serve and protect our country is something I will never take for granted. These brave women fully understand it all. The support we give and receive is a beautiful and treasured gift. The heartfelt conversations and prayers of dear friends and fellow military moms and the safety to share those parts of life mean more to me than these precious women realize. They are a gift that I don’t take lightly.

As I ponder the events of my day, I see that there were many small, but not insignificant gifts that God showered on me. Things that might go unnoticed unless I looked for them.  Such as a good parking place, joyful birdsong, the way sunlight filters through clouds, a beautiful rainbow, a compliment from a stranger, and giving and receiving kind and encouraging words.

By intentionally seeking out these gifts places in our lives each day, our perspective can change from one of anxious worry to one of hopeful anticipation of the lovely gifts we will unwrap as our day begins.

There is joy in simply thinking about the intentionality and love our Father has for each of us. It is hard to grasp that I am so loved and cherished that I have the undivided attention of the God of the universe as He crafts and blends up joy, surprise, laughter, peace and intricate detail into every day I am blessed to wake up. He is doing this for you, too.

There will be days that are beyond hard to endure, with unwanted things that blindside, hurt and wound us. That is never to be dismissed or minimized. My limited understanding cannot explain it. But perhaps, in the midst of all the hard and unwanted, the calm and the peaceful, there are deeply personal and breathtaking gifts waiting to be unwrapped. I believe He delights in placing them in the midst of our messy and chaotic humanity – waiting for us to slow, to settle a bit, to look around in expectation of the good and the lovely because He is good, lovely, praiseworthy, and can be trusted. I love what Psalm 37:3 & 4 say, “Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” (NIV).

As I settle in for the night under my blankets with softly purring cats I feel a sense of calm settle over me.  Yes, there is still chaos and hard things swirling and poking for a place to seep in and cause worry, but the weight of those things are kept at bay, at least for the moment, as I focus my attention on the gifts I unwrapped today and allow my mind to wander and wonder at what I might find tomorrow… James 1:17 “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” (NIV)

A High Rock

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

Wrapped up in her crimson scarf, dark green beanie and brown combat boots, Jasmine makes her way to the dirt road that winds past her home. Tendrils of black hair wisp and flutter around her cheeks and forehead as she walks.

The air is bracing and chilly, but the hot coffee with cream warms her hands through the lidded cup.

The crunching of her boots along the dirt packed road is such a satisfying sound, purposeful with meaning and direction. The rhythmic sound is comforting and familiar and she’s been craving that feeling.

This year has been one of many changes – some welcome and some not, some expected and some blindsiding. The feeling of having no control over her life and the lives of her loved ones weighs so heavily on her raw and tender heart. There seems to be no balance to any of it and she cannot fix, re-route and smooth it over. The helplessness of it all piles up and up and leaves her feeling overwhelmed and so very tired. With every step she visualizes pounding the troubles deep into the dusty country road, imagining the puffs of dirt and tiny pebbles left in her wake floating away on the breeze and disappearing, but they don’t. The troubles just settle onto a different spot in her journey.

As she makes her way along the road Jasmine feels the peace and tranquility of the countryside begin to work its magic. Her tight shoulders and neck release, just a bit, her mind focusing on what’s around her. Birds chatter in the copse of trees just up ahead, down and around the slight bend in the road. There is a bit of marshy land to the right filled with tiny bugs and tasty treats for the morning hunters. It’s a joyful and happy noise these birds and creatures make as they faithfully trust in the Creator to supply their needs. All they need to do is watch, listen and seek out what He has given.

Passing under the branches of the old, gnarled oaks, Jasmine feels the slight change in temperature as the morning sun is temporarily blocked and chill air brushes her exposed neck and face. This is how her heart has been feeling – as if a shadow has fallen over her spirit drowning out the light and warmth, leaving her chilled, shivery and exposed. In this shadowy place she’s lost her perspective. Everything seems obscure and vague with too many unknowns. It isn’t fixable and the way is so hard to see.

On the other side of the oak trees a small trail branches to the right from the main dirt road. As she passes under the trees she feels, almost hears, in the tufted and swaying grasses, an audible sigh beckoning her to veer off and take the path. “Why not?” she whispers.

Curiosity mounting, Jasmine makes her way along the trail. She has traversed this old country lane many times and doesn’t remember this obscure path that’s barely visible through the wildflowers and grasses.  Up ahead it curves off to the left around a cluster of small trees. Once past the trees the path drops down snaking off through the countryside. At the point where the path begins its descent, she sees a cluster of large rocks to the right jutting out like a shelf. There are fragrant flowering bushes around the rock cluster that give it a tucked in feeling. Safe and protected. Fascinated, Jasmine climbs up and sits on the rock shelf. She lets herself breathe in the cool air and feel the warmth of the late autumn sun penetrate her exposed skin. Warmth and protection begin working their way into that shadowy, frozen place in her heart.  It’s such a lovely, cozy, feeling of safety. She hasn’t realized just how frantic and overwhelmed she’s been and how she has missed feeling safe and peaceful.  

Looking at the rock she’s sitting on, she notices bits of dried leaves and finished flower petals from the nearby bushes. They spin and shimmy along in the breeze like random spinners, until they float off the edge of the rock shelf following the breeze on the journey laid out for them. The freedom in these floating petals makes her smile. Oh, to feel so light, so free, so joyful…

The breeze picks up, dancing and whispering through the wildflowers around her rock. She feels a gentle peace descend on her shoulders and thread through her hair. Tears of release that she has so fiercely guarded and held at bay, freely fall and flow down her face, splashing the rock like drops from her heart. Each tear holds the name of one she holds dear, of one she loves and desperately wants to protect, wrap up tight and keep from all harm and violence. But she’s tired, her heart can’t contain all the striving, soldiering on and fixing…it’s beyond what she can do. It rips and pulls at her spirit.

As the cleansing flood of tears subside, Jasmine notices that in the warm, life-giving light of the sun, her tears soak up and evaporate. A hush falls around the rock and a Voice she recognizes speaks into her soul. “I have them now. Their names are engraved on the palms of My hands, as is yours. Their burdens are not yours to carry. I have them and they are safe. I gathered up your tears in a bottle where My breath and My will have transformed them into droplets of peace, joy and beauty. You are safe and hidden in My sanctuary. I have placed you upon a high rock where you will find rest for your world-weary soul. I am a shield about you, you are never alone.”

Her parched spirit soaks up these whispered words and softens. Her troubled, fearful, frantic thoughts slow and dissolve; blown away by the flighty breeze tousling her hair. As she sits on this high rock, safe and tucked away, her heart and soul open up and she has room to breathe. In the place where fear, anxiety and a desperate need to control once dwelled, now courage, bravery and deep joy begin blossoming. Her captured tears have been transformed into fragrant, life-giving water that cleanses and renews all that was lost and broken. She will find beauty again. She is confident of this.

As the autumn sun makes it lazy descent, Jasmine is ready to head back. She isn’t the same person who started out this morning. Her feet feel light and confident as she follows the path back to the main road. The warmth of the setting sun on her back feels so safe, like the protective hand of a Father who is ever vigilant and watchful, who has all things under His control. She really can rest now. “…My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”1

  1. Exodus 33:14

Helpers

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Helpers

I happened upon a devotion this morning that caused to me stop and think. I am a helper. I want to help, fix and make other people and their lives okay. I take on and carry things with me that are not mine to carry or hold. As an empath, I deeply feel others’ joy, pain, sadness and all the in-between and that’s a good thing, right?

Perhaps, but it also gets very, very heavy. It can choke out my own joy, gladness and peace and that is a dangerous thing. The burdens of the world are impossible for me to shoulder and quickly take my focus off of being grateful, thankful and content. I miss good and happy things as well as blessings happening in my own life, because I feel such a need to help and be there for others. I am not equipped to walk another person’s path, just as they are not equipped to walk mine.  

Matthew 28:18 says, “Then Jesus came to them and said, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.”

All authority. All of it. He has the power to rescue, heal, save, change the trajectory of a situation, be miraculous or help someone navigate the rocky, unsteady, difficult road that is ahead of them, filled with important lessons and truths that they alone must walk through and learn. He has that authority. Not me. He alone knows what is needed all the time and in all ways. He is the one weaving our life tapestries and He knows.

In 1 Thessalonians 5:17, the apostle Paul exhorts us to “pray without ceasing.” How much better would it be for me to use my time and energy in being a good listener, having compassion and praying, yet leaving the burden and outcome in His omnipotent hands? By praying for someone and asking God to speak to and love them through us, do we not become a channel of His peace, comfort and love?

I don’t know about you, but this speaks volumes to the helper in me. I can feel a literal shift in my soul and much-needed peace and joy descend. I feel His gentle breath soothe my heart – “let them go, child. Lay their burdens down. It is not yours to carry. I’ve got them, they are safe with Me.”

“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; for he is my God, and I trust him.” Psalm 91:1-2

Light

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The first gentle rays of sunrise bathe the cluster of Redwoods in a pale, quiet glow. The forest air is crisp and clean as it sheds the last vestiges of night.

Nature’s early risers watch and wait. They are eager to greet the new day with gossip and chatter. The early light calls them to bring their songs and joy to the new morning. The undergrowth is full of rustles and kicked about leaves as the hunt for seeds and insects begins.

Shadows and light play off of each other illuminating swaths of the leafy forest floor as the sun makes its ascent. Sunbeams filtering through the branches catch and backlight tiny dust motes trapped in the air. It feels supernatural how the rays of light are so concentrated, yet gentle, like a divine spotlight that pierces and penetrates, exposing everything to the pure, beautiful light. Each beam highlights and dances over the branches, trunks and leafy bushes, casting an ethereal and other worldly glow to the waking forest. One might expect angels to move in this mysterious light. Whispers of the divine abound.

The crooked curve of a branch, sharp, rough edges of tree bark, mossy growth and choking poison ivy that entwines as it creeps up the tree trunks are laid bare in the light. Everything stands out in stark relief. Even dead, cracked branches that are brittle, hard and dull are bathed in light and a kind of loveliness is restored. Beauty found in unexpected places…

There are no secrets here. Nothing is hidden. The rough, sharp scars, the dead, ugly pieces, the mossy growths and random vines threatening to suffocate the beauty of the trees, are naked and exposed in the lovely, glowing light. Holy.

Transformation happens in the Light. All is revealed and can be made whole again. We can find beauty in the dead, scarred places when the One who pierces the darkness with His breath, His gaze, and His thoughts turns His eyes to those unlovely parts that we so desperately want to hide. Shame is exposed and covered with grace. Wounds are bound and healed as life and prophesy are breathed over them. He makes beautiful things out of the dark, hidden places. Scars show perseverance and victory, dead places are pruned and healed, curves and bumps become testimony and entangling vines are exposed and burned away in the Light.

His Light can feel harsh, painful and exposing. It takes courage to stand in it and let the Light do its healing work. But the end result will reap untold, eternal benefits. Joy will come in the morning, when the Morning Star covers and bathes our exposed and vulnerable parts with soft, healing, lovely Light.

The Creek

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There is a little hollow with a bubbly creek running through it. You can find it if you listen.

A lovely jaunt through some meadow grasses will get you there.

The gentle willow trees sway and beckon, “Come, and sit a while.”

The only sounds are nature’s chatter and the swish of grasses and wildflower stems as they rustle against booted feet making their way to the water.

A slight dip in the path and you are there.

The gurgling creek splashes happily over some stones and fallen, decaying branches. The rivulets and tiny waterfalls rush and dash through the haphazard obstacle course.

On the opposite side of the creek the paws of the early risers have left their unique imprints. The routine of it is calming to consider.

The bank of the creek is dotted with a variety of wildflowers, all adding their color and charm to the hollow. Small yellow flowers on their tall, leggy stems seem to love the chaos of the breeze that randomly tosses them about. The purple-y blue flowers growing close to the ground create a lovely and fragrant carpet. Bold white flowers lift their faces upward to the patches of sun filtering through the drooping willow branches.

Downstream the water has slowed and taken on a lazy pace. Widening into a small pool that flows gently around the roots of an old tree, one wonders what creek dwellers make this restful pool their home.

At the edge, tiny fish dart in and out of watery shadows and the quick Boatman skip atop the quiet water. The grumpy, red-orange crawdad silently waits under a ledge of roots, motionless and spying.

Little plip-plop sounds come from the far edge of the pool – small frogs perhaps?

The tranquility of nature with its calming rhythms of sound, light and timeless order soothe and quiet a restless soul. The pull of it is ancient and constant.

Accepting the willow trees’ invitation to sit for a while, the weight of all you have been carrying lifts and floats – up, up to One who gives rest and peace. He is there in the light that sifts through the branches giving warmth and safety.  He can be found in the cooling breezes that kiss and skim the skin. The Divine whispers and sings all around you, as He leads you beside the still waters and restores your soul.

Book Release! Divine Appointments…

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

DIVINE APPOINTMENTS…IS LIVE – published and ready to go on Amazon as eBook/Kindle or paperback! It will soon be available at Barnes & Noble online, Books a million, Thriftbooks, Walmart and other online retailers. I cannot wait for you to get a copy in your hands and let me know what you think!!!

Please share and help me get the word out 🙂 You can visit my author page on FB @MelissaGiomiauthor and IG: @melissa.giomi

I am thankful and honored that so many of you have been on this author journey with me for the past 2 years. It means more to me than you know to have support, encouragement and prayers for this book and Divine Encounters…to accomplish what God has planned for them. It has been such a fun and exciting journey and I’m hopeful there are more books to come 🙂

Cheers and happy reading!

Coming very soon!

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

Hi everyone! Divine Appointments…will be live and published this month! Uploading to Amazon as eBook/Kindleand paperback has begun and both will soon available. I cannot wait for you all to get book #2 in your hands!

Thank you so much for the continued support – it is much appreciated and so very valuable to self-published authors.

Cheers!