strength

Hurt and Healer

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

I have been feeling a bit nostalgic lately. I’m dealing with some health issues that are coming to a head soon with some tests and procedures in the works. Maybe that is triggering memories of my cancer days with surgeries, radiation, chemotherapy and biotherapy, when I really didn’t know what the outcome was going to be and if I would be healed.

Music has always had a tremendous impact on me. When nothing else can reach that deep place or describe my feelings, music has always done that for me. It is a gift that I am so grateful for and that I hold very dear to my heart. To me it is God’s mouthpiece to my soul.

During the most intense times of my cancer treatments there were many songs that spoke to those places in my heart that were weary, afraid and overwhelmed; songs that spoke peace, hope and safety to my soul.

This song, The Hurt and the Healer, by Mercy Me is one of those that I clung to tenaciously and listened to over and over again, multiple times a day sometimes; declaring to myself that even in the midst of my deepest fear, pain and hurt, Jesus is there; the Healer colliding with my hurting body and heart, whispering to my soul that one day this will all be understood and made clear. I know that one day I will hear Jesus say, “It’s over now.” That brought me such hope! I know that whatever I face and whatever scars I’m left with, He will use for good and His glory; to bring hope to someone who has run out of steam and needs to know it will be ok. If this is you today, soak in these words and promises from a God that sees all, hears all and watches your every move, cherishing you and catching every single tear, bringing you healing in unexpected and beautiful ways. His arms are open wide.

The Hurt & the Healer”

Why? The question that is never far away

The healing doesn’t come from the explained; Jesus please don’t let this go in vain

You’re all I have, All that remains

So here I am, what’s left of me, where glory meets my suffering

I’m alive

Even though a part of me has died; You take my heart and breathe it back to life

I fall into Your arms open wide, when the hurt and the healer collide

Breathe

Sometimes I feel it’s all that I can do;  pain so deep that I can hardly move

Just keep my eyes completely fixed on You

Lord take hold and pull me through

So here I am, what’s left of me, where glory meets my suffering

I’m alive

Even though a part of me has died; You take my heart and breathe it back to life

I fall into your arms open wide, when the hurt and the healer collide

It’s the moment when humanity, is overcome by Majesty

When grace is ushered in for good and all our scars are understood

When mercy takes its rightful place and all these questions fade away

When out of weakness we must bow, and hear You say “It’s over now”

I’m alive

Even though a part of me has died; You take this heart and breathe it back to life

I fall into your arms open wide, when The hurt and the healer collide

Jesus come and break my fear, wake my heart and take my tears

Find Your glory even here, when the hurt and the healer collide.

-Mercy Me

You can find the video to this song on youtube.

 

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.

The Banner

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.  You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.  Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

There is change in the air; I can feel it. I stand on a gentle rise and see that same banner in the distance snapping boldly; vivid colors weaving and twisting in the steady breeze. It’s been there, just beyond those high, craggy mountains, since the start of my journey with You, like a back drop in a production.  Oddly, I feel very drawn to it; I yearn for it, yet can’t quite explain the pull it has on me. Something bright under that banner catches my eye.  What is that glinting in the sunlight? I survey the path opening up before me in the soft grass; wildflowers nodding and dipping as the perfumed air lifts them and tosses them about on their slender green stems.  Such beauty here; such peace – must I leave this place?  Is it already time to move on?

Memories return of days spent resting and healing, when time seemed to stand still as I walked with You by the quiet waters, drinking in Your presence as You restored my soul.  My scars have begun to fade, pieces of my shattered soul returned to their rightful places, stronger than before.   My mind and spirit are full of the sweet memory of grace and mercy poured out over me as strongholds fell and angels rejoiced over the victory. Strength has returned to bones made weary from battles only fully comprehended in the Heavenlies.  You revealed a pathway of righteousness and truth and my feet were set upon it, leading me to Your place of safety and rest.

I turn toward the sound of Your footsteps coming toward me, firm and strong.  “Come child,” You say, “today is the day.”  “Well, I’m not sure I’m ready yet, Father, I’m not fully healed.”  “Please, can I rest just a bit longer?”  I notice Your staff in Your hand and turn to look again at the path open before me.  Level at first, it seems to ascend, and not too far off, I see the beginnings of hills and further in the distance, the mountains; bigger than the ones I journeyed through not so long ago.  Can I do it?  I sense something familiar and uneasy begin to rise up in my throat; the tiniest whisper of Panic. No, I think, not again!  Haven’t I passed through enough mountains? Haven’t I already stumbled through the darkest valleys?  The grass stirs at my feet as You cradle my face in Your scarred hands. You bend Your mouth to my ear and You whisper; “You are stronger than you think, beloved.  I AM here.”  The scent of Your breath revives my soul and the fear is pushed away.  The sight of Your Staff brings me comfort. Didn’t it beat back the brambles and reveal paths where there seemed to be none?  Did it not stave off the enemy’s fatal blows as I passed through that last valley? And was it not there, always before me, as You led me around that mountain and parted the waters that threatened to engulf me?  Yes, yes it was; yes, yes You were.

With renewed hope and remembered faith, I take one last look at the tranquility of this place and turn to face the path You’ve laid out before me. You are already walking and I hurry to catch up to You.  The beauty we pass as we walk side by side along this wide, easy path is breathtaking.  The sights, scents and sounds are water to my soul and each grows stronger as You pass by, as if they know their Maker is in their midst.  Joy!

We travel in comfortable silence for a good distance before You stop, looking beyond the mountains. I follow Your gaze to the snapping banner, past the last looming mountain.  I look at You.  You’re smiling.  You are beautiful.  Laughter rolls from Your lips and You turn to me.  “Wait ‘til you get there,” You say.

Time passes too quickly in this place of beauty and soon the wildflowers begin to fade away and I notice small rocks have replaced the quiet swish of the grass underfoot.  The path narrows a bit and the footing is a little less sure. I find I am paying more attention to the growing size of the rocks than to my surroundings and to Your presence.  Unpleasant memories of what happened last time I became distracted flood my mind.  Stay alert and focus on the Staff, I chide myself, remember what you were taught.  I am not alone and I am not forsaken.  He makes a way when there seems to be none…remember…remember…

You are up ahead, walking with confidence and silent strength.  I watch as Your Staff easily moves larger rocks and thorny bushes out of my way.  You are not worried, not concerned.  You have my destination in Your mind and You will not be swayed or deterred.  Day after day goes by as we walk this new path of rocks and brush; gnarled roots jutting up just enough to pose hazardous to my tired feet.  I stumble more frequently now and You patiently stop and help me up each time.  Soon the sun dips out of sight and night falls.  The going is getting harder now and I tire more easily.  Sleep comes quickly as I lie down near You.  I rest in Your peace.  As I drift off to sleep, my mind is soothed and quieted, as the fears and worries of the day’s journey are eclipsed by the sound of You singing over me as I rest.  I have never heard a lovelier sound.  Heaven.

In the light of morning, I take in our surroundings.  Today we start up the first of the mountains, having traveled over the hills for a while now.  I’m not looking forward to this part of the trip. I have grown comfortable in the hills and I remember what the mountains of the past held.  The path is steeper and much narrower.  Not that far ahead, the path winds and twists out of sight and I cannot see ahead.  Fear slowly and stealthily attaches itself to me and I do not follow You as quickly or as closely as I had at the start of our journey.  I hear noises that frighten me as I pick my way up the path.  Shadows flicker and slink in the dark shade of the boulders that line my path.  Panic joins Fear and my thoughts get muddled as their voices mock me.  “You are out of control”, they tease, “You’d better make your own way; You are alone.” “This way is much faster,” they reason smoothly, “go ahead and try it, you may just beat Him there.”  ”Yes,” I say, “no harm in taking an easier route; why I’ll plan it out myself, no sense in getting too tired and sore climbing over and sliding about on this slick, uneven, unknown path.  This path over here looks well worn and safe.”  Panic and Fear retreat a little and Arrogance moves up to whisper in my ear.  “You can do this, no problem.  Once you arrive, you can teach others how to navigate these mountains, show them the short cuts. You’ll be a pro.”  The well worn path veers sharply to the left and I march on with renewed self importance. I can get there quicker and it will save so much time and effort.  How smooth and easy this new path is…why would anyone take that twisting and unknown one I was traveling on?  Briefly, an image of that brilliant banner flashes through my mind, but Arrogance and Self Reliance quickly distract with a tantalizing reminder that I am in control now. Pleased with myself, I continue down this wider path for a while, lost in my self serving thoughts.   After a bit, I begin to notice it’s getting hard to breathe.  It seems awfully stuffy and stale; suffocating. The lightly fragranced breeze that had been tousling my hair and buoying me onward has died away and it’s very still.  A bitter, pungent smell begins to filter through the still air.  There is a distinct odor of decay, of loss.  This seems too familiar.  I see the white glint of bones in the shadowy darkness that has begun to descend around me. This path is wider but filled with death.  No! No!  I know this place, I know it. I know it and I am terrified of it…wasn’t I just here? Panic rushes forward and I am having a hard time thinking clearly.  I can’t go on, can’t go further, but Fear and Dismay dance and leap around me, shrieking, laughing, knocking me down, convincing me I’m stuck, that there is no way out. I huddle alone on the ground, visions of a brightly colored banner streaming through my mind.  If I only I could get to it.  Before the wet heaviness of despair fully falls, the faint sound of the sure and steady tread of familiar feet, catches my attention.  A glimpse of something solid and safe comes slowly into view.  It comes closer and closer and stops above my head, the taunting jeers ended. I look up and see You standing above me, the Staff in Your hand. The eyes I see looking down at me are filled with compassion and something deeper I can’t name, yet I respond to it willingly, feeling my parched throat soften and my ease of breathing return.  I feel a sweet release as what were the beginnings of chains, clatter to the ground.  You lift me up. You carry me in Your arms.  As You take me through this deep, dark valley of shadows and death, I fear no evil.  The mocking voices are silenced, the stench of death is overridden by the breath of Life.

There are more days of arduous travel left, yet Your Staff comforts me.  There are more mountains to conquer, valleys to endure, storms to weather and paths to be revealed.  There are times when You go before me to show me the path and make my way clear, yet You are also behind me, hemming me in.  My Protector.  At other times, You walk by my side, Your hand resting gently, yet possessively on my shoulder.  I am safe because I belong to You.  I am Yours and no words can describe what that knowledge does for my soul.  Knowing my every thought and points of weakness, You speak out words of encouragement when snippets of mocking laughter or menacing shadows threaten to overwhelm or distract me.  Fear, Panic, Dismay and Arrogance have no place here.  Prophesy flows out from Your mouth as You shout over me Your plans, Your vision, my destiny.  It is more than I can take in; my thoughts are not Your thoughts, but Your Spirit captures those declarations and plants them deep in my soul, to be watered by my tears and looked after by Your very words which will not return to You void.

As I struggle on the slippery rocks of a steep slope, my fingers scrabbling for a hand hold, You reach out Your right hand to me and pull me up over a craggy out-cropping of rock.  As You settle my feet on the ground, I see that the path is once again soft and smooth, caressing my feet after the pain and sharpness of the rocky trail.  Ah, what a blessing.  “What do you see?”, You breathe in my ear, “look all about you, listen and look.”  My eyes and ears are met by the vivid colors of the snapping banner. A steady, fragrant breeze billows it out and in, out and in.  The colors are rich, deep, mesmerizing; colors of royalty, purity, power.  I can’t look away.  There is safety here. I never want to leave.  I look to You and You throw back Your head, smiling, and laugh!  The sound is beautiful and untamed as it ripples out and out, echoing off the mountains, resounding through the trees.  Joy fills my heart just hearing it.  “Keep looking, daughter”, You shout, “I’ve only just begun!”

I scan the path ahead and notice a large open space.  In it, is a lavish table, set with the finest of dishes, glinting gold and silver with brilliant blue and brightest white.  This is what I saw glittering near the banner at the start of this journey.  You had already planned it and set it out for me? You prepared it for me and me alone?  The magnitude of Your love descends and envelopes me and I am undone.  I weep without shame before You; completely captured by Your perfect, unconditional love.  Oh, Father, this is what I have been searching for in vain on those wide, well worn paths, straying far from the narrow, uncertain one You urged me to follow. I thought I could find it on my own; thought I could control and command it. All along You were leading me to it; in Your way, in Your time.  I see it now.

On this table is the most sumptuous feast I have ever seen. Fruit ripened to perfection is strewn in perfect chaos around about the table.  Delicacies I have never encountered before are placed before me and You gesture I should eat.  I do and I taste Your goodness, faithfulness, patience and generosity in every bite. In the middle of this beautiful table is a pure white marble fountain. The purest, clearest water bubbles up from its center.  The water never stops flowing. The source originates from the right hand of Your seat. Mercy. My cup runs over.

Every good and perfect gift does come from You. I have tasted it and I have known it.  I dine with You in the presence of my enemies. Fear, Arrogance and Abuse; Rage, Pain and Bitterness.  They are there, watching from the paths I didn’t take, peeking from the thorny bushes that pricked me and drew blood.  They taste defeat, while I taste victory, freedom and deliverance.

As we dine together, You rise and stand next to me, raising a golden horn of oil above me.  You anoint my head.  I am chosen, wanted, redeemed and purified in Your sight.  You set Your seal upon me and pour out Your blessing over me.  “You have an open invitation at this table, child, do you not know?  After all, I set it for you.  How long I have waited for you to come and dine with Me!  Dwell here in My house all the days of your life.  I have given you all you need; you are well equipped to be about My business.  My goodness and love will follow you; watch for them, listen.  Keep your eyes on My banner, never let it out of your sight, for it is My love.  Yes, His banner over me is love.

Death of a Stronghold

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

I want out of here.  I am so cold.  It’s getting darker. Where did the light go?  The air feels heavy and oppressive.  It’s getting harder to breathe.  I can hardly see anything around me.  I reach out my hands to grasp the door.  My fingers brush across the handle, but it doesn’t budge.  I realize that I’ve been sealed in.  Heavy, awkward looking blocks are stacked in front of the door; seemingly tossed in random piles, but effectively blocking my escape. “Who did this?” I wonder.  I turn around and around surveying this place I’ve built for myself. Funny, I don’t remember it looking so bare, empty and void of life; like a grave.  There is nothing of me in this place.  What happened here?  I try to remember the last time I really saw it as it used to be when I first built it; strong, safe, impenetrable, as it was supposed to be; guarding my secrets.  It was a long time ago.  I allow my eyes to wander around the room and then I see them.  The boxes…a flicker of recognition snatches at my thoughts and the old feelings of terror and pain stir and begin to move toward the surface.  I see memories shimmering inside their tightly bound boxes where I banished them all that time ago.  “No, no,” I cry, “I can’t!”  “I can’t see you!”  Not yet…not yet…

My heart is pounding far too hard.  “I can’t…please don’t make me.” I am frozen, staring at the memories bumping up against the lids of the boxes, straining against the ropes I used to tightly bind them away out of sight.  They have been safely tucked away in this tower of heavy blocks I constructed for them. I worked so hard.

I can’t look at them. I am too afraid.  Then, in the silence, almost imperceptibly, I feel a stirring in the air.  It is like the faintest breeze, buoyant; like a soft feather dancing lightly against my bare skin.  I catch the scent of something wonderful! It smells new, clean and light.  Pure.  I know this scent, but can’t yet place it; it’s been so long since I’ve breathed it in.  In contrast, the stench of death, decay and emptiness in this place is overwhelming, yet cloying and familiar.  My imprisoned soul is drawn to the new, the clean, the light and I search for its origin.  Compelled by something supernatural, completely unexplainable, I find myself moving toward the boxes. I am right there, closer to them than I have been in ages.  Despite the desperate sinuous fear that is crowding me on all sides, I sense a shift in the air. It is lighter and I don’t feel crushed by the weight of it. I smell the beautiful scent again and it gives me courage.  There is a palpable change in the atmosphere now. I feel the gentle, sweet brush of feathers all around me and know I am safe. I slowly let myself be drawn in again. The stench of death and decay is very faint now, replaced by the scent of Heaven coming from the wings and feathers in which I find myself enfolded.  Your voice is huge, powerful and deep, yet gentle, quiet and sure.  “It is time.  Look at them now, child; open your boxes.”  “Only if You promise to stay. I cannot face them alone,” I whisper.  Strength flows into me that I know cannot be of me. I am all too familiar with the sense of my own failed strength.  Your voice reverberates through the very core of my being saying, “I alone am your refuge; your place of safety; I am your God and you will trust Me. I will shield you with My wings; I will shelter you with My feathers.  My faithful promises are your armor and protection.” Yes, Father, yes.

You place the frayed, weathered ropes that bind up my boxes of memories into my right hand.  I still have Your strength flowing through me, so I pull the ropes with all my might.  As the ropes slither to the ground, my memories, carefully hidden and preserved, gently dance and hover above the box tops, bidding me to look at them and release them.  Peace that I cannot understand washes over me and I go to the boxes, Your hand warm upon my head; feathers brushing my cheeks.  I inhale You and deeply breathe in Life.  I lift up my head and welcome the memories, and they come.  I look at each one as they come before me. I weep and cry out as I acknowledge them all; the violence, terror, pain and fear; the cruel words and hateful actions and slowly nod my head.  I feel You hold me tight and whisper to my spirit.  I am startled and struck silent as I feel the sweet warmth of Your tears spill onto my face as You weep for me.  You turn my face upwards and I watch my memories, my pain, my loss ascending to Heaven, where You will take them and re-shape them to be used for Your glory.  “Is it done, Father?” I say.  “What about these walls of heavy blocks you constructed to protect your pain?” “Is it not time to tear that down, too, Daughter?”  “Do you really want to be free?”  You take my hands and turn them over. They are calloused and rough, from all those exhausting years of building my stronghold.  I watch in awe, as Your breath, Your right hand, begins to smooth away the hardness, the deep grooves and scales, revealing new skin underneath, that glows with life, energy and health. New life is here, in this place that was seeped in death and emptiness.  In the next moment, my attention is caught by a sound, unlike anything I have ever heard before.  It starts as a deep, low rushing, and then begins to spiral upwards, like a roar, like a violent storm and I fear I can’t stand up under the enormity of it.  It is too much for me to bear and I close my eyes, barely breathing.  As quickly as it came, it is gone.  There is peace; blessed silence, as I rest safely in the shadow of Your wings.  The roar is replaced by the most beautiful song I have ever heard, being sung above me, all around me.  I cannot understand the words being spoken; it is too lofty for me, but something deep in my spirit awakens and responds. I am utterly captivated.  I feel so light, so new, so clean!  As I raise my arms in praise and abandon to my Father, I see that I am free! The walls I built are no more, the boxes are gone, the air is clean, and the Light is back.  Gingerly, I begin walking where once the walls of my self imposed prison stood tall. I notice only a slight indentation, like a scar, left there; an indication of where the pit of my captivity had once been.  Today is the day I traded my stronghold for a strong tower.  As I soak in the song You sing over me, Your voice becomes imprinted on my heart, “I am the Lord Your God, I am with you, I am mighty to save.  I will take great delight in you, I will quiet you with My love, I will rejoice over you with singing.”

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.

Faces of Peace

~ Extravagant Hope ~ 1 Comment

I am on a constant journey to find peace. It is something I crave on a soul deep, inner man deep, level. It is difficult to describe, but it is there and it is insistent.  I search for rest, because I am weary. It is not always the feeling of overwhelming exhaustion or the desperation of drowning kind of weariness, but sometimes it is. Life is showing me that peace has many different faces and it invades every situation. It can be quiet and unobserved, waiting to be noticed and when it is noticed, brings surprise and a deep sense of well-being. This happens in the wee hours of the morning, while rocking a tired, cranky baby; back and forth, back and forth, praying for rest and calm until suddenly you feel it – peace. It was there waiting, gently and softly. Rest. Peace. Joy. Love. All is well, you are safe and secure. Sheltered.

Peace is there on an ordinary day, when things are flowing smoothly and life is pleasant and people are kind. Peace was there before the day started off well, before everyone got up and got ready for work and school on time, before lunches were remembered and PE clothes were grabbed on the way out the door, before the house emptied and things were quiet. Peace was already there, waiting and present and real.

Peace is there in the absence of storms, just as real and alive and powerful, as it is in the midst of grueling trials and storms that seem to have no end. Peace is there, strong and powerful and full of compassion, when the Doctor opens the door to your room, takes a deep breath and says, “I’m so sorry. You have breast cancer.” It is there. Peace is what keeps you from losing yourself to terror when desperation blasts in and you feel like you are drowning and have no control. Peace is there in the middle of the fears of the “what-if’s” saying, “Yes! What if you are healed? What if you are well taken care of and deeply loved, what if you are never, ever alone in the midst of this, what if you are held in arms that are bigger than all your fears, what if you have shelter in the midst of all this hurt and chaos? What if? What if…

Peace reminds you that it was there before this storm hit and it will be there forever after. Peace lifts your face and asks you to fasten your gaze steadily into the eyes of Jesus, the Prince of Peace. It is Jesus, peace is Jesus. Such calm, such safety, such lovely rest.

On this journey of mine, I have discovered time and again, that my searching and desire for peace leads directly to Jesus.  Every single time. I won’t find it inside myself, in my own strength. That will fall short every time. I know. I have tried over and over to be self-reliant and strong enough. The One who created me, when I was but a thought in His mind, the One who formed every single part of me, all my weaknesses and failings and all my strengths and gifts – He wants me to feel peace, to feel Him working out all things for good, according to that beautiful, unique plan that is my life. Your life. The time He took to carefully place us right where we are, surrounded by the people and circumstances that He brought into being, tells me that He knows what He is doing. He is the Master planner. He knows how it all ends. We win because He is victorious over death and sin. It is good. He’s got me, He’s got you. It is ok to not know what to do, if you know the One who does. It is ok to not have it figured out and planned and plotted. He already did that. It’s done. Can you and I walk this out? The not knowing? We can. We do it every day, don’t we? We wake up and just go. However, the going is so much easier when we understand and truly believe that He has us in His hands and that nothing, nothing at all, comes toward us, His children, that He has not first filtered through hands of love, a mind of infinite wisdom and a heart that loves us so intensely, intimately and fiercely, that He allowed His beloved Son to die for us, to take all this on for us, to forgive us and to become our Peace. This is a wild love. It is not tame and it is not controllable. Yet, in this fierce and protective love, we find the greatest of peace. Jesus.

Melissa Giomi, October 7, 2015

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!

 

 

 

Something to ponder…

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

Someone needs to hear this tonight or maybe it’s just for me… God loves you. He made you. He knows everything about you and loves all of it. Your weaknesses and struggles are not driving Him away from you. He is there always, as close as your next breath. You are seen and known and have God’s undivided attention. You name is engraved on the palms of His hands. You have tremendous value and purpose. You are here for a reason. God makes no mistakes. You are not a random happening. Those places in your heart that hurt; the place in your soul that has been so wounded has not gone unnoticed by God. He saw, He knows and He grieves.  If you give it to Him, He will take it and redeem it; He wants to do this for you. He can restore and transform those places that seem too lost, too broken, and too ugly. The secret hurt isn’t hidden from Him. He is “the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that are not as though they were.”(1) He knows all about the anger, the bitterness and resentments; failures and victories and joyful A-ha moments. He looks on you with eyes of love, compassion, joy and mercy. You are His greatest delight and lovely treasure. You are His child. Your voice is music, love and joy to Him. Talk to Him; He loves to listen. You are covered in grace, redeemed and delivered and so very loved by God. Sit with these thoughts for a bit. Let them permeate and percolate into your mind, spirit and body.  Rest in these words and flourish!

“The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” (2) .

(1) Romans 4:17 b  (2) Zephaniah 3:17

Healing

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Good morning friends! This morning I’m posting scriptures and prayers for healing. There are quite a few of you in my world that are hurting, ill, scared, waiting for results and fighting hard or watching a loved one do the same.  I am praying God’s Word over each of you today. My desire is that these will bring you hope, encouragement, peace, calm hearts and spirits and that you are able to just relax and lean into Jesus. Jehovah Shalom is your peace. Be well, in Jesus’ name!

“But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and by His wounds we are healed.” Isaiah 53:5

I pray that by Your stripes, my friends will be healed; by Your wounds, they will be made whole again. May Your peace that passes all understanding rest upon my friends this day.

“Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits – who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion; who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.” Psalm 103:2-3

Thank you for being the God who adores us, delights in us and heals all our diseases. Please heal my friends, renew their strength, restore their health, bring a smile to their faces today and fulfill the desires of their hearts.

“The centurion replied, “Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed…” Then Jesus said to the centurion, “Go! It will be done just as you believed it would.” And his servant was healed at that very hour.” Matthew 8:8, 13

Just say the word, Lord, and healing and restoration will come to my friends, in Jesus’ name. I intercede on their behalf and ask for renewed health, wisdom, strength and faith. I believe You answer prayers according to Your perfect will. May Your will be done in the lives of my dear friends. May they see You at work in their lives and know how much they are loved.

“When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick.” Matthew 14:14

Father, I pray that You have compassion on my friends and their loved ones today. Please completely and totally heal them.

“You do not have, because you do not ask God.” James 4:2

Abba, in Your Word You say that we do not because we do not ask, so right now, I am asking and interceding for my friends and loved ones. I ask that You will heal them totally and completely and restore their health and vitality, their energy and joy, their faith and hope in You. I pray that even right now, the diseases, wounds, hurt, pain and sickness will leave their bodies and that You will replace those things the Devil meant for harm with good, true, holy, pure and lovely things. You are our Father and You know what we need before we even ask it of You. Thank you for what You are going to do in the lives of these beautiful people that are in my life. All blessing, honor and glory to You, in the name of Jesus, amen.