seeking God

Revealing Truths in Exodus

~ Extravagant Hope ~ 3 Comments

I’m reading through the Bible in a year. I’ve done it before and each time have found fascinating nuggets of truth, revelation and delight that I never noticed in my previous readings. I am in Exodus now. I know this part like the back of my hand, or so I thought. Today, the Lord opened my eyes to some beautiful, yet hard hitting truths about myself, about Him and maybe about you, too.

Beginning in Exodus 13:3, Moses tells the Israelites to remember this day that they left Egypt forever; the place of their cruel and unbearable slavery. Moses reminds them that this is the day the Lord brought them out of their bondage with His mighty hand. His. Not their mighty hands and strength in numbers, but His. There is no place for self-reliance and self-congratulation here. The Lord heard their cries, their groaning and weeping and He rescued them because He is all mighty, a Warrior and because He loved them and He chose them as His own. Their bondage and the cruelty inflicted upon them by their earthly masters reached the heart of Almighty God and He responded with amazing power, might and compassion for the Israelites. He answered their cries.

In Exodus 13:17, God does not lead His people toward the Promised Land by the easy, straightforward route taking them through Philistine territory, because He knew them. He knew they would be terrified, turn around and head back to Egypt, because it was familiar there. Despite the horrible oppression they suffered, they knew what to do there. This applies to us, too. He knows our fears and weaknesses. Sometimes, when He seems to leads us in odd, circuitous routes to get to our Promised Land, have we ever stopped to think that because He knows us so well and loves us so much that He leads us around a mountain that might just be too big and cause too much pain? That we are not ready for yet? That touched me and explains some paths that I’ve had to take that seemed to make no sense.  I love how He speaks through His Word. It never returns void.

Verses 21 and 22 say “The Lord went ahead of them. He guided them during the day with a pillar of cloud, and he provided light at night with a pillar of fire. This allowed them to travel by day or by night. And the Lord did not remove the pillar of cloud or pillar of fire from its place in front of the people.”  What a lovely reminder that we are never alone. He is our constant companion. He knows where we are going. That feels peaceful to me. Safe.

The people panicked when they saw the Egyptians had followed them. They cried. They were terrified. They had already forgotten the way the Lord had brought them out of Egypt. They forgot that He guided them and lead them with pillars of cloud and fire. I love how Moses tells them in Exodus 14:13, “Don’t be afraid. Just stand still and watch the Lord rescue you today. The Egyptians you see today will never be seen again. The Lord himself will fight for you. Just stay calm.” This verse means a lot to me, because there was a time when a trial, a wound, seemed too deep and too hard to overcome. It was blindsiding and overwhelming. I remember asking God to show me something, to please tell me what to do. I found this verse immediately. I did what it said. I stood still and I watched Him rescue me from something that I didn’t understand. He fought for me, because He loves me. What are you facing that seems impossible? Do you trust God to fight for you? Can you wrap your mind about what that really means? God, the Almighty, the Prince of Peace, Creator, the King of ALL Kings wants to fight for you! He is telling you to just stay calm and watch Him. The Lord is our rear guard. He goes before us and leads us, but in times of battle, He is behind us, just like Exodus 14:19-20 shows us. “Then the angel of God, who had been leading the people of Israel, moved to the rear of the camp. The pillar of cloud also moved from the front and stood behind them. The cloud settled between the Egyptians and Israelite camps.” He leads us out of harm’s way, and then moves behind us to hem us in and guard us from what He just delivered us from. Protection. Safety.

The first half of Exodus 15 is a beautiful song of praise, acknowledgement and love to the Lord for His protection, guidance and compassion; recognizing that He is an unmatched and mighty Warrior who stops at nothing to defend and redeem His chosen ones. I am His chosen one. You are His chosen one. Do we dance, sing and worship out loud when He delivers and rescues us, sharing with others when our prayers and cries are heard? Are we like Miriam and the women of Israel who danced and sang this song to Him; “Sing to the Lord, for He has triumphed gloriously; He has hurled both horse and rider into the sea.” (v. 20, 21). This hit home. Am I raw and open and lavish with my praise and honor to Him for all He has done and is doing in my life? Do I give Him praise and thank Him for all the “horses and riders” in my life that He has hurled into the sea and battles He has won for me? Do you? Will you?

There is one last part from this first half of Exodus that causes me to examine myself. Exodus 16:4 “The Lord said to Moses, Look, I’m going to rain down food from Heaven for you. Each day the people can go out and pick up as much food as they need for that day. I will test them in this to see whether or not they will follow my instructions.” I read this over a few times and it blessed my heart. I believe He still does this for us today. God rains down food from Heaven, for us, every day. He gives enough for each day. Just enough. It might come in the form of physical provisions; such as food, shelter, water and clothing. It might come in the form of health and relationships. Maybe He gives me enough skill, ability and talent to get through whatever the day will bring me, because He already knows what that will be. He knows what I’m going to need and provides just enough. That spoke to me in a big way. Am I grateful, daily for what He is doing? Do I actively look to see what He is providing and how I need to use it? Do I spend time with Him saying thank you? Do I remember what He has done and what He has provided with a grateful heart or am I selfish and greedy like a giant gobbling mouth, demanding more, more, more and complaining relentlessly that what my Father has rained down from Heaven, for me, is not good enough? What do you do with the daily, loving provision your Father has given you? Food for thought….

The Beauty of an Altar

~ Extravagant Hope ~ 4 Comments

This year I am reading through the Bible and taking notes on things that jump out at me. The theme that is jumping off the page at me right now is altars. The first time an altar is spoken of in the Bible is in Genesis 8:20 “Then Noah built an altar to the Lord and, taking some of all the clean animals and clean birds, he sacrificed burnt offerings on it.” Noah obeyed God and built the ark. God remembered Noah. He caused the winds to blow over the Earth and the waters to recede. When Noah left the ark, he immediately built an altar and made a sacrifice to God. God was pleased with the aroma. God then made His promise to never again curse the ground and destroy all living things. Here was a divine interaction.

Throughout Genesis, Abram, Isaac and Jacob built many altars to the Lord. Often the altar was built after the Lord had appeared to, spoken to, or protected His child. The altar was a place where the divine and humanity interacted; a place of communion, sacrifice, divine exchange and worship. Particular places were named in honor of what God had accomplished there.  There was a keen awareness of the smallest acts of God and His intervention and concern in the lives of those who put their trust in Him. I noticed, too, that God actively responded to altar activity. He smelled the aroma and it pleased Him. God sealed promises and made covenants with His people after they built an altar. This altar building speaks to the priorities of these men of God. They wasted no time in erecting an altar and offering sacrifice and praise to God for all He had done. They gave God glory and honored Him. It deeply moves me to read about these altars, these markers of peace which commemorate an encounter with the Most High. It speaks of humility, love, dependence and a true heart of thankfulness.

Thinking about altars and the way our forefathers commemorated God’s acts of love, kindness, mercy and generosity started me thinking about whether I am creating altars of my own for all that He has done in my life. What would that look like?

I have some thoughts on that. One altar might look like giving God glory and recognition when something is accomplished or an obstacle is overcome. It reminds me of my battle with breast cancer. It is God alone who healed me. He directed my path to the doctors I needed, to the treatments that worked and He alone gave me the courage and strength to fight every day during my almost 2 years of treatment. I give glory and praise to Him for healing me and allowing me the honor of sharing my story with others.  He takes every single thing that touches our lives so seriously.  It brings me peace to know that everything that touches me or my family is first filtered through hands of love.

Another altar might look like a true physical structure. In my garden, I love to decorate with rocks and stones and other natural things. I could build an altar commemorating His love, protection and divine guidance over me and my family. A memorial of all He has brought us through; an altar of praise and thankfulness that we can physically see and touch.

A prayer journal might be another altar that records the prayers I have sent heavenward and the answers He has given. Not every answer will be one that I want or understand. Not every answer will turn out the way I think it should, but the journal will be a record of the human and divine exchange that took place when I humbled myself and cried out for His help. What a reminder it would be of all He has done! I imagine seeing a beautiful theme of redemption, love and tender care as I look back on all that I turned over to Him and all that He did with it. He is a good, good Father.

I wonder if living a life sharply attuned to the Father’s heart could be an altar? I wonder if seeing others as He sees them and treating each other with forgiveness, tender mercy and compassion would be a pleasing aroma to Him? I wonder if being grateful for each day and thanking Him for His breath in our lungs would be a beautiful memorial to all He has done for us and through us; all that He has yet to do? I wonder if asking Him to use us for His glory would so please Him, that He would make covenant promises to us and speak declarations of love, purpose and blessings over us? I wonder if He would take our seemingly mundane lives and show us parts of the tapestry He is weaving and how the ordinary is transformed into the extraordinary, if only we would expectantly look, watch and listen?

I would love to hear your thoughts about how you create altars to God. We have so much that we can learn from each other!

Divine Exchange

~ Extravagant Hope ~ 2 Comments

Maybe this time, I tell myself.  I can do it.  I’m strong, I can handle this.  I strain to see.  I try to remember how it looks, but it’s been a long time.  A primal knowledge in my soul tells me that I need to see it, must find it again, but things are obscured through the webs; my vision seems cloudy and I can’t clearly make out the shapes in the strangely filtered light.  Frustration wells up inside as the heaviness settles back in to take the place I’ve given it. When did that happen?  Did I give it permission?  I used to hear, but the sounds I’m searching for are muffled now in my ears; very faint and far off; disturbed by an odd rattling, scraping sound. Frustration, blindness and confusion; is this where I’ve settled?  “Maybe if I get up and move around I can get a better view; this odd lighting is the problem, “I decide.  With that decision made, I make my move to stand and am confronted with the source of the rattling, scraping sounds; thick, heavy, rusted chains.  My chains.  Mine.  I can’t get up and move around for a better view, because I am bound to this place of filtered light, muffled sounds and intolerable frustration.  Why? When? How?  Panicked, I struggle and fight, then in exhaustion I slump down in defeat.  Tears begin to fall from my eyes and spatter down on the ground all around me.  Am I bound here forever? Is there no escape, no way out?  Dark images flicker across my line of vision; stealthy movements threaten and mock.  Is that faint laughter I hear?  I didn’t start out here, bound like this, in chains like a condemned prisoner.  Who put me here? What did I do?  “Please,” I call out, “someone, will you help me?” I don’t belong here.  I want out.  “Someone, rescue me!”

I hear faint movement coming from all around me.  The dark shapes are shrouded by the obscure, filtered light, but I sense them coming closer, bold and violent; mocking in their approach.  “Help yourself,” one hisses in my ear, arrogance and fear scenting its breath, mocking laughter flowing from its tongue.  As hopelessness starts to fall, I look more closely at my surroundings. I am elevated on a mass of circular stones with faded words written on each one.  They are carefully arranged and set just so, in a small clearing.  Like an altar.  All beauty has been methodically wiped away, revealing only dust, barrenness and grotesquely twisted roots, thrusting up out of the ground.  The harsh loneliness of this place is terrifying.  Wait…I can see more clearly now; this used to be shadow-like and obscure, but now I sense the light shifting; brighter, clearer, full.  I don’t like what I see.  Webs from something horrid and smothering have been woven around, above and below my prison, trapping me; altering my view; skewing my perspective.  “Lies,” a Voice gently says, “lies that have kept you snugly ensconced on your altar of self.”  Altar of self.  Yes, that is exactly what this is.  As recognition of my pridefully built, self imposed prison floods my awareness; I realize that I cannot get out on my own.  I have locked myself in.  Trapped.  The mocking laughter swells and I feel the heaviness trying to descend again, the weight of my chains pulling cruelly at my limbs.  I am at the end of my self.  ”ENOUGH!” I shout.  “Please, Jesus, You have the keys…set me free!”

The mocking laughter is silenced by my words.  The atmosphere shifts and grows completely still, except for a deep vibration I feel surging up from the altar on which I stand, as it cracks in two. I look down and see a clear stream of water gushing out from that crack.  You stoop down and scoop the water in Your hands and offer it to me.   I see the silvery scars on Your hands and a song I can’t name, but deeply understand, floods my soul.  Thirst quenching.  A divine exchange is taking place here and my cracked altar becomes the catalyst.

The sounds and scents I have longed for begin to reach me.  Sweet laughter, gentle voices, Spirit breath, heavenly song.  Delicate and powerful, they flow all around me, bathing me in sounds and scents so sweet and pure that my breath comes in gasps; expelling the dust and debris that accumulated in my spirit as I worshipped at the altar of self.  I again breathe You in deeply, richly, slowly.  Freedom bathes me, ministering to the wounds inflicted by the stones named Fear, Pain, Loneliness, Pride, Rebellion, Abuse that I used to build my altar.  I feel lighter, clean, loved.  Heavy, rusted chains break apart and fall away from me.  I dance before you with abandon, unashamed, cleansed; my weakened muscles growing stronger and more nimble.  The heaviness is gone and a gentle, but vibrant spirit of praise now clothes me.   “Climb down, child, get down off of your broken altar.  Take the stones with you; they have a purpose to fulfill here.  There is something you need to see again.”  I fill my white robe of praise with all of those stones. Somehow they all fit.  I follow You out of the clearing where that altar once stood. As I go, new life is sprouting up. The gnarled roots of bitterness and rage, rejection and vengeance are sprouting into lovely trees of forgiveness, peace, Sonship and humility.  “Stop here, beloved.  Now You must use these stones to build your steps leading up to My Cross.”  I look up at the Cross and it speaks to me of ultimate sacrifice, profound mercy, joy indescribable, unmatched beauty and plentiful grace, even grace for one who built her own altar of self-protection. Tears of gratitude and love wash over my face and spill down onto my hands as I build those steps. It is hard work.  My building stops at times, as I find a tenacious tendril of frustration or pride trying to creep in over and around my stones, but I rip it out with Your strength in my hands.  As I lift my stones into place, I notice that where my tears have fallen shoots of brilliant green are pushing their way out of the rich soil.  As the sprouts emerge, You bend down and I see You writing something in the dark ground and I hear You speaking tenderly to the new sprouts. Your voice is the nourishment they need as they continue to grow. You rejoice over the harvest that only You can see.

My steps are built. They are placed firmly and deeply into the ground at the foot of Your Cross. Engraved by Your hand on that first step are the words Nisi Dominus Frustra.  “Come up, Daughter.  Come up higher to the very foot and find rest. Up here is what you have been searching for in vain.”  I ascend those steps in anticipation. As I come closer, I stop for a moment and look back down, surveying where I started.  My tears watered what You divinely planted and I see beauty stretching out below me and Your Cross is beauty before me.  I feel a shout that I absolutely cannot for the life of me contain, rising up in my throat, so I shout! It is a shout of pure joy, a song from my spirit to Yours.  A harvest will be reaped from my pain that I never thought I had a right to know. It is a beautiful inheritance.  It is You.

Yearning

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

There it is again.  I feel it rising up from somewhere deep inside.  It is difficult to describe, but there it is all the same.  I want it to have a name.  Somehow that will make it seem safe and predictable, possibly even controllable.  However, it is anything but safe and predictable, most certainly not controllable.  It is pressure that builds and needs a release; a cry from the deep that can only be satisfied by an answering calm, a gentling of the urgency; a whispered word, saying “Peace, be still child; how very close I am to you.”  It is birthed in quiet moments of meditation and worship, where time ceases to exist and I know I have Your undivided attention.  It is a place where my voice, my love and the groaning of Your Spirit, mix and intertwine in the Heavenlies, bringing delight to Your heart; setting into motion things I could never comprehend.  It is so beautiful, yet not safe and certainly not predictable; uncontrollable.  This it comes surging up as I fall to my knees in awe of all that You are; knowing that the small bit I know of You is almost more than I can bear.  To know that there is more, that You are richer and more brilliant than my most vivid dreams frightens me, because that, too, is not safe, is not predictable and cannot be contained.  No, it is holy, a consuming fire, pure and wild; it’s more fierce and passionate than I can handle on my own.

At times, it swells up when my fingers finally release their death grip on what I knew all along I could never control or hold onto, yet almost died in the trying.  I hear it in the sound of chains falling and walls crumbling, as another stronghold tumbles to the ground; the scent of victory overcoming the stench of defeat. It comes as a wave, a pounding of the heart, as Your anointing falls when obedience calls and is answered with “Yes Lord, here I am.”  It is there when the howling loneliness calls out for filling, clawing in desperation until Your presence is given permission to enfold and permeate the void.  I sense it’s presence when joy unspeakable and peace that passes all understanding snaps like a banner in the wind, high above the circumstances and distractions of life, proclaiming that Jehovah Nissi is my covering and victory, shielding me with love.

As I wait in Your presence, I am beginning to understand what it is.  It is desire for You so indescribable it hurts, a needy emptiness that can only be filled by all that You are. It is the craving my spirit discerns can only be satisfied when I am forever in Your presence for all eternity. It is an obsession that keeps me hungry and thirsty for revelation and wisdom; for truth and a startling intimacy found only with You. No, it isn’t safe or predictable; it’s certainly not controllable, but I know it will be with me until I see You face to face. I am learning to love it, not fear it, to embrace the wildness and fierceness of it.  I will welcome it with open arms and tender heart.  Its name is yearning.

Mary, Did You Know? Pondering Treasures

~ Extravagant Hope ~ 5 Comments

Mary, the mother of Jesus, is one of my favorite people in the Bible. I aspire to have her spirit and her faith.  The way that she watches, listens and fully takes in the miracles she witnesses; the miraculous that becomes her life; the miraculous that collides with her humble and ordinary humanity and literally alters history and brings saving hope to mankind. As I imagine her feelings and thoughts; her wonder, fear and acceptance when the angel Gabriel appears to her and says, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you!” it captivates my soul and draws me deeper into her life, making me wonder what it must have been like to be her.

Did she wonder what Gabriel meant when he said she was highly favored? Did it terrify Mary that God looked upon her and trusted her, a virgin from a tiny town, to birth the Savior of the world? “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, who will be given the throne of his father David, who will reign over the house of Jacob forever,” (1) the One who’s kingdom will never end? How can this be? I’m sure this thought crossed her mind…yet, she believed that “…nothing is impossible with God.” (2) She received this honor from the Most High God and said “I am the Lord’s servant, may it be to me as you have said.” (3) I may not be asked to birth the Savior, but I am asked to seek Him, love Him with all my heart, soul, mind and spirit. I may not be visited by an angel of the Most High God and given a commission that will alter the history of mankind, but I am asked to boldly and without fear tell my story of how He became my Savior, how heavens plans for me collided with my humanity and altered my history and forever changed me.  I want it to be said of me, as Elizabeth said of Mary, “Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished!” (4)

I wonder what Mary’s thoughts were as she and Joseph set out on the long and wearying journey to Bethlehem. Did she worry about how they would actually get there with her being so far with child? Did Mary imagine and fret over the difficulty of it all and the enormity of what was set before her? Was she cold? Would they make it? Could they do this? Did Mary ever wish God had chosen someone else? Yet, they were obedient. They trusted God.  I’m sure the sound of Gabriel’s voice, his greeting and encouragement to her and the awe of the blessing bestowed upon her played over and over in her mind, as the God of all creation comforted her and reminded her that nothing is impossible.

As she wrapped her newborn son in cloths and gently placed Him in the manger, amidst the sounds of the animals settling in for the night, I imagine her listening to the rejoicing of heaven as the heavenly hosts praised God and sang of His glory and of the coming Peace and Hope of mankind. What was it like knowing that this was happening because of the birth of her first born son, the Son of the Most High? The very words of Gabriel coming to pass; prophecy fulfilled in her hearing; watching and listening as angels sang and rejoiced. This would be something to ponder in her deepest soul. Here would be what Mary treasured and stored up in her heart. I can see her smile and reflect on all that had been spoken to her and prophesied over her and her baby boy.

Did Mary feel wonder and awe? Was she afraid? Did her heart fill full of hope, joy, love and anticipation? I wonder if Mary sat that night and reflected in the quiet. Was she dreaming of the future? As she looked at Him, new, small and fragile, did her heart fill to the brim with love and expectation? Could she comprehend that this precious baby boy would be her deliverer? That her first born son would die for her sins? Could she understand that this baby boy was the hope of mankind? I wonder if her spirit discerned that this baby would cause her such joy and such deep sorrow.

Mary could not have foreseen all that her son, the Son of the Most High, would come to mean to me; an ordinary, imperfect, fairly normal and fanciful woman, 2000 years in the future. She couldn’t know all that I sit and ponder and store up in my heart about Him – what He has done, will do and is doing for me. How I know that He dances, rejoices and sings over me; how prophesy flows forth from His mouth as He calls me Daughter and speaks to all that is not, as though it was and it becomes what He pleases. All the small, little moments and miracles known only to my soul and my heart that I store up as my treasure; all the revelation, healing and protection He has showered on me – things that even my very soul and spirit cannot comprehend. It is all undeserved, but given with such a wildly, fiercely generous love. Mary, did you know?

“But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” (5)

(1) Luke 1: 32-33 (2) Luke 1:37 (3) Luke 1:38 (4) Luke 1:45 (5) Luke 2:19 (NIV)

Isaiah 55:11 – A Word of Encouragement for those with children in our lives

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

Good morning friends! I want to share and pray over you these scriptures, whether you are a parent, grandparent or are blessed to have children in your lives in some way. I have a 17 year old daughter and an almost 13 year old son. I began this habit of praying God’s Word over my husband and I, to strengthen us and guide us to be the parents He wanted us to be and for us to be a good influence in the lives of our children and the children we are blessed and honored to know and love. I ask God daily to let this be a legacy we leave for our children; that their parents prayed God’s Word over them and over our family, anticipating great and amazing things from God.

Jeremiah 29:11 is such a beautiful promise, reminding us that He knows each one of us and the children in our lives and that He has good, good things in store for us; more than we could ever hope for or even imagine. He is the God of the miraculous and can turn around every hurt, poor choice and mistake into something that strengthens us and our children; beauty from ashes; sadness into singing; despair into joy and pain and abuse into a lovely legacy of hope. He is our hope.

Jeremiah 29:11

 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Isaiah 55:11 (NKJV) is one of my all time favorite verses. I pray it and say it out loud often during my day.

“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.“

This is a promise from God that when His Word is spoken, when He sends it forth from His mouth, it WILL accomplish His will. This brings me such hope and encouragement. I hope you will sit with this verse and pray it over any and all situations happening in your life right now and the lives of those you love. His Word DOES accomplish His will, it will not return void.

Deuteronomy 11:18-19

“Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.”

Father God, I ask that Your Word will be fixed in our hearts and our minds. I pray that Your Word will sink deep into our souls, so that we know You intimately and are able to teach our children all about You. May we be examples of Christ’s love, sacrifice and character to the children in our lives that watch what we do and see us as role models. Give us many opportunities in our day to speak Your truth to the children in our lives and to lavish them with Your love. Give them teachable hearts and guide our words.

Psalm 78:4,6

“We will not hide these truths from our children; we will tell the next generation about the glorious deeds of the Lord, about his power and his mighty wonders…So the next generation might know them – even the children not yet born – and they in turn will teach their own children.”

Father, I pray that You will put a passion and a strong desire in us to tell our children about Your power, love, might, strength and kindness so that they will grow up to tell their children and their children’s children. Remind us to share the miracles You have done in our lives and in their lives. Let us leave a godly legacy of trust, faith and hope in Jesus.

Proverbs 22:6

“Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.”

Give us wisdom to train the children in our lives in the way they should go. Give us strength and patience and lots of love. Help us to hold their hearts gently as we speak Your truth and love and mercy into their lives. I pray that when our children are old, they will not turn from all that they have been taught, but will love You and follow hard after You, beyond what we could ever hope or imagine. May Your will be done in their lives.

Ephesians 6:4

“Fathers [Mothers], do not exasperate your children; instead bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.”

I pray for discernment, self-control, wisdom and grace as we parent our children and teach those that we have influence over. May we bring our children up with loving discipline, wise instruction that comes from You and lots and lots of grace. May our home be one of kindness, safety, compassion, forgiveness and grace with wise and realistic expectations. May we be good examples of treating others with love and being the hands and feet of Jesus to all whom we come into contact with during our day. Let us show generosity, hospitality and understanding to those in our spheres each day. May we be good examples and may our actions speak louder than our words, as we seek to show the world how very much You love them.

Here is some  encouragement as you make your way each day from Galatians 6:9:

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Peace, friends; God has You and those you love in the palm of His hands. He knows how this life will end and we have victory in and though Him!

 

 

 

Hidden in Silence

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

The storm is on the horizon. I see it coming, but from far away it doesn’t seem so violent. It doesn’t seem like something that really needs attention. Not a big deal. It was only a little side step off the path, just a tiny compromise, a quick detour. Surely this other, smoother way will lead to the same destination? I didn’t care for the rocky terrain up ahead or the steep ascent I’d be required to make further along. This approaching storm will blow over; it will pass to the left or the right of me; maybe bring a touch of rain, a bit of thunder; but manageable, definitely manageable.  I will ride it out like I always do. In fact, this will be fun, exciting, an adventure! Permission is given and Rebellion takes a deeper hold with a sibilant slither. It invites some friends to come with it.  This gives me a delicious feeling of strength and confidence.  I will manage. I’m in control.

The storm is here. It begins as a stiff breeze, bringing a noticeable change to the air around me. Pin prick feelings of edginess. “Silliness,” I say. “There’s nothing to get all worked up over. It will pass right by me.” Won’t it?

The storm is here. It does not pass me by. It does not veer off to the right or to the left. It comes straight to me. The stiff breeze turns to wind; a rising, howling, screeching wind. Pounding and scouring; it rages. The rains pelt, sting and bruise. Thunder deafens and lightening blinds. All my protective armor of misunderstood self-reliance is violently shorn away.  Rebellion is brought low. There is nothing left of my well insulated life that I padded with denial, supported with beams of pride and girded up with planks of lukewarm complacency. The storm takes my painstakingly fretted over structure and has swept it away. I suppose at the very back of my mind I always knew it would. But self-reliance is addicting. Rebellion masks itself as a unique strength of character, which ushers in Pride and Arrogance and an entitled sense of self-righteousness.  I feel the vulnerability of having nothing to cling to, of nakedness and unworthiness. I sit in deep silence. It is deafening. “What do I have left?” I softly cry.  You have removed all of it in one fell swoop. “Nothing left,” I think. This is just barren ruins of what used to be; of the things and accomplishments that I thought I had brought about and earned from all of my hard work for You.  Wasn’t I entitled to it? Silence.  “Where are You then?” I shout out.  Silence.  “Where were You when I made these poor choices? Why weren’t You shouting at me to stop, to change direction, to wait? Why were You silent? Haven’t You seen all I’ve been doing, all the hard work and tireless effort? All I have accomplished for You has worn me out. I am closed off, fearful and competitive. I feel like I will never be enough!”  Silence. “Do I even matter?”

“Yes.”

What was that? Was that a voice in the silence? My ears have become accustomed to hearing only my own voice and words that I want to hear; other voices that knew where the less traveled path would lead me and were deeply afraid I might choose it.  How hard they worked to seduce me with visions of recognition, accomplishment, and worth! How well they convinced me that I was doing it all for You. Self-reliance, Idolatry and Pride merrily hissed and whispered in my ears exactly what I wanted to hear, which effectively drowned out that one Voice I so desperately needed to hear. Yours.

In the silence of the storm’s aftermath, as Your whispered words reverberate in the stillness, I do remember the other path; the one from which I was so easily lured away.  It seemed less traveled, a little lonely even. There were definitely a few boulders and rocky terrain; a few very steep and narrow parts that looked daunting and difficult. It looked too hard and I was tired.  Surely the comfortable looking, wide path was good enough. Lovely trees, flowering bushes, gentle slopes.  Peaceful easiness that required little, but cost a lot. I see that now.  I close my eyes and I remember the little frisson of cold, creeping along my spine, as I turned away and headed along the wide, lovely path; the small Voice was quickly drowned out by singing birds and the sly smile of Rebellion. Idolatry and Arrogance beckoned and I hurried to them. Traveling along day after day, the calm routine of the well- traveled path began to numb the Voice into a breathy Whisper, barely noticeable, but still there. I knew it was there. I didn’t want it to be there. What a conundrum! I started out wanting to hear from You and seek You with all my heart, yet I didn’t want You here, on this easy, well-traveled path, filled with so many others who welcomed me and congratulated me and told me You were here, because  I knew this wasn’t where I would truly, honestly, completely find You. I was deceived and had no idea how to get back to you. Hopelessness told me it was too late; that You would be so very disappointed. Fear declared that it would be too hard to go back and that at least I was comfortable on this path. It was at least predictable.

“What now, Father?” I ask, “What now?” “Follow My voice,” You say. “I’m just over here, keep coming, keep walking, look straight ahead. You will know what to do.” I stand and look straight ahead. There is a small clearing just beyond the wreckage the storm produced. I have to clamber over strewn debris, broken idols, vestiges of what used to be and navigate some ruts and gouges in the ground, but I get to the clearing.  It is bright here. There is fresh air. Floating feathers; this is Holy ground. There is a pool that is deep, clear and lovely in the clearing, being fed by a bubbling stream. I walk to the edge of it. I see my reflection. I’m dismayed. I’m dirty.  I’m covered in debris and mud and my hair is tangled up with sticks and things I’ve collected along the way. The water looks so refreshing and inviting! Cool and pure.  Am I brave enough to step in? Am I willing to be cleansed? The stench of all I have believed and rejected, attempted and failed, attracted and repulsed is overwhelming. I want to live again, fully live, so I take the plunge and enter this pool of living water. As I go deeper in, I sense such peace. Here is undeserved mercy. Here is deep love and compassion. Here is being fully known. There is healing happening here; rejuvenation, rebirth, new life.  The striving, searching, desperation and fear are being washed away. Their voices are fading to nothing. I hear Your voice now.  I hear singing and prophesy. I hear joy and acceptance. You tell me I am enough.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! 2 Corinthians 5:17

Sanctuary

~ Extravagant Hope ~ 2 Comments

Sanctuary

I sit in the sanctuary of my heart, still, waiting for You. I long for Your presence, Your words, Your breath, Your kisses.  My heart once was a fearful place, but because of You Jesus, it has become a refuge, a safe place, my peace. It is a place that I long to go because You are there. I will shout to the mountain tops all that You have done; to You be the glory, Jesus.

I no longer fear what is and was in my heart nor try to deny it exists. You hold out Your hands to receive it – the damage, the sin, the struggles, the fear; the place where deep hurts and secrets dwell.  You are not afraid.  You smile as I hand them over; some quickly and with ease, others with hesitation and still others that take time, as I painfully and deliberately choose to release them to You, one finger at a time, one muscle at a time. What you do with these things of mine I am not entirely sure, but I do know You want them, every one and You, in Your abounding mercy and mind blowing love, take them and transform all that I thought was lost, used up and devastated beyond hope, into a thing of rare and poignant beauty, so precious and sacred to You that Your Spirit hovers over Your redeemed and transformed work, nurturing it, breathing life, wisdom and power over it; releasing authority and boldness into it and forever changing me.

How can I be the same when Your holiness, grace and sovereignty intercept me in my humanity, frailty and poverty? “Not possible!” my spirit shouts.  Not possible.  To be in Your presence for but a moment leaves Your fragrance, Your taste, Your fingerprints everywhere!  How could this not be my greatest desire?  But…life, busyness and superficiality also vie for my attention and the battle is hard.  Yet, Your Spirit which watches over the transformation is constantly at work, even if Your voice seems distant.  You are still shouting Your delight over me, rejoicing above me and dancing all around me. Will I choose to still my heart and mind long enough to hear You speak in the wind, feel Your touch in it’s caress, catch Your scent in the flowers, dance before You with no shame? Will I be still long enough and choose to trust You enough to take my hidden hopes and treasured dreams and place them in Your outstretched hands? You placed them in my heart. You have given me visions, dreams and desires too deep to name, yet You ask for them back.  Yes, Abba, I will give them to You. For You are good, You are faithful, You are truth and the lover of my soul.  Only You can give wings to the plans You have for me. You say that “no eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him.”(1) Oh, how I love You and oh, how I want what You have prepared for me.  Jesus, Your love has captivated me, ravished my heart.  Because of Calvary, undeserved sacrifice, grace and mercy I will never comprehend, love that freely flows from Your throne and pours into and continues to heal a scarred yet hopeful heart, I can sit here in peace and safety calling my heart Your sanctuary. Thank You, Jesus for the treasure You revealed in what was once a lonely and desolate place. Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom!

 

~ Melissa Giomi, June 2009

(1) 1 Cor. 2:9

Letting Him Love Me

~ Extravagant Hope ~ 8 Comments

In May of 2009, is when I really began to write down all the things I felt God was talking to me about. I really sensed that He had things to say that He wanted me to write down and share. Except for a small, select group of friends, I did not share my writing with anyone else. It is a very vulnerable place to be when you share deep, personal thoughts and feelings and I was afraid to do it. Honestly, I still am a little afraid to do it, but I will.

This first short writing is something that I experienced with Jesus on an annual women’s retreat that I go to almost every year without fail. It happens in the Northern California Redwoods and is so breathtakingly beautiful, if you have not seen and experienced it yourself, it is hard to describe. I love the smell and sounds of the Redwoods. The peace and power and majesty of nature in this area is really beyond compare and it is a perfect place to experience and connect with God on so many levels. My hope is that as you read this short bit, you will sense and begin to know how much Jesus delights in you and finds you lovely and fabulous and how He loves to just hang out with us, whether we are deep in the Redwoods or going about our busy days. He just digs you!!!

Here you go – enjoy!

I went to retreat in 2009 with a lot of expectations on God.  I wanted to hear His voice and have Him explain and define things for me that I was going through, because this is what He and I have always done and it’s what I wanted Him to do again.

I have my routine down for each retreat.  On Saturday afternoon, I go on a hike by myself to be alone with the Jesus.  This year I planned to do the same thing I always do and go to the same place I always go to pour out my heart, hurt and requests to Him.  Jesus, however, had something very different in store for me.  I reached the general area where I usually sit, but it didn’t feel right, so I kept moving.  The trail was so beautiful and peaceful I didn’t want to stop. Then I happened to spot a little open area off the trail, where I could walk down and sit right above the stream that runs alongside it.  As I climbed down, I knew this was the place and my heart was overflowing with anticipation of meeting with my Daddy…what was He going to say to me, what was He going to reveal and work out and explain?  I got myself comfortable and sat waiting for Him, examining my surroundings.  This place was very isolated and quiet, almost undetectable by anyone walking along the main trail. Interesting, I thought, no one can see me here; I’m hidden.  I kept waiting and asking Him to speak, telling Him that I was listening, ready and all set for Him.  I heard nothing.  So I waited a bit more, sitting and thinking that I was starting to feel very hot.  I was  annoyed that Jesus wasn’t speaking yet, because that was not how we usually do things.  In the next moment, a very subtle, gentle, cool breeze began blowing over me at just the perfect temperature.  I didn’t notice much of a breeze anywhere else, just right here.  Interesting, I thought, it’s like this breeze is just for me.  Then I sensed Him say, “It is just for you, beautiful one, how I love you.”  Speechless.  I had nothing to say.  All my expectations were forgotten.  All my carefully thought out conversations with Him were wrecked and so was I.  All I wanted to do was worship and adore Him and I did. I sang to Him and praised Him. I spoke out all my love and deepest desires for Him and He absolutely received it, lavished it back on me and wrecked me some more.  I asked Him if I was beautiful and graceful to Him, in all my stumbling and trying and falling and I sensed deep within me, that I know like I know, that I am all those things to Him and more. I was overwhelmed.  I never saw myself like that.  In my spirit I knew I had His undivided attention in that quiet, hidden away place by the stream, where no one could see me but Him and it was perfect.

My off key singing delighted Him, my praise and worship pleased Him and my spirit was so full of Him that I never wanted to leave that spot.  I believe that He showed me the power of praise in that secreted away place.  Abandoning myself to love Him and delight in Him, brought me more healing, peace and joy than time spent speaking out my hurt, fears and requests to Him could have done.   Loving Him opened wide my heart to receive His love for me.  I am learning to love Him on a new, higher level and am falling deeper into believing how much He really loves me.  I knew He had something for me at this retreat, and what He taught me, on Saturday afternoon by the stream, was how to let Him love me.  Will you let Him love you?