Perfectly…

Isn’t it wonderful that God knows us so well, loves us so deeply, and covers us so completely with His grace and mercy? He knows what it’s like to be human – perfectly imperfect, but so loved!

Overflow of the Heart

Psalm 141:3 NIV “Set a guard over my mouth, Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips.”

The imagery of words bubbling up and out of my mouth from what is stored in my heart has always been fascinating, yet convicting for me. I like to think that my words are always lovely and inspiring, flowing from kindness, but they aren’t always. I don’t like to envision my heart filled with poisonous words and thoughts that leak and spill over onto other people, but I know that they have and they do. They likely will again.

The only way I know to keep these knife-sharp words at bay is to ask Jesus to examine what’s in my heart. It’s not pleasant. Most of us don’t relish having our hearts and deepest thoughts laid bare before God.

There are things deep inside these hidden places in each of us that are not nice, not kind, and in desperate need of healing, and cleansing. Secret things and painful wounds that we have tried so hard to heal, clean up, and bandage on our own with weak, frail bandages that are temporary and fleeting. Our self-made bandages never stop the seep and stain that taints our hearts and souls with pain that spews up and outward. That depth of exposure and healing can only come from Jesus and His mercy, compassion, and power to bind up and heal our soul deep wounds. He will do it, if we invite Him in to do that hard work.

As we go about our lives and intersect others life-travelers, I hope we keep fresh in our minds that our words contain so much power – the ability to heal, lighten, inspire, and spread kindness. I want to be known for that – kindness, acceptance, compassion. Everyone we set eyes on is deeply loved by God.

Father, please keep a guard over our mouths. Let kindness, mercy, joy, and compassion be what bubbles up from our hearts, out of our mouths, splashing all whom You place in our path. Keep watch, Lord, on the door of our lips, so that hatred, condemnation, judgement, and cruelty have no room to pierce and wound those we come into contact with daily. Let us not give the Enemy a foothold to weaponize our words. Fill us with Yourself – Your name is enough to silence all thoughts and words that are not of You. You are good, You are love, You are peace. In Your name, Jesus our Healer, amen.

You are so loved. Peace be with you.

Blanket of Hope

Romans 8:26 NLT

“And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don’t know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words.”

Have you ever felt so bone-deep tired from circumstances and hard life seasons that the thought of putting together coherent thoughts, words, and ideas is just too much? I have, several times, and it’s not a pleasant place to be.

This verse brings me a lot of encouragement. When I do not know what or how to pray anymore over a certain situation and simply do not have the energy, the Holy Spirit knows. He knows. When human words cannot express the longing, the need, the fear, the hope, the Holy Spirit speaks in heavenly languages straight into the Throne room, interceding on our behalf. That is beautiful. That is love. That is power and compassion that swirls in mystery and bathes us in the supernatural.

If you are in this season now and simply can’t find the words to pray, be encouraged that He hears you, He knows, and He is acting. Let the sweet blanket of hope and mercy fall on you, cover you in the language of heaven, and rest, my friend, just rest. He’s got this. All is well. You are so loved. Peace be with you.

Some things cancer taught me…

April is a big month for me. On April 26, 2012 I celebrated a HUGE victory. That is the day, at 2:15 pm, I was told, “You are cancer free!” After being diagnosed with an aggressive breast cancer in November 2010, I began surgeries and treatments that ended in April 2012.  

As this anniversary date approached, I had many things running through my head; random memories of the cancer center and that “one of a kind, not found anywhere else” smell; the taste of the peppermint candies I sucked on to keep the horrible taste of saline and chemo out of my mouth; the blanket I brought to keep warm during treatments and comfy pink slipper socks. I can still hear the sound of radiation equipment being dialed into place. It was such a lonely feeling being alone in the radiation room, as the technicians went behind layers of safety walls, and I lay there exposed, cold and numb, willing the machine noises to stop; hoping I wouldn’t burn.

Good memories also pop into my mind of my faithful husband going with me to my treatments while the meds flowed in; or when a friend kept me company during a long treatment. The distraction of good company meant so much to me, even though I knew it was hard for them and uncomfortable. There are the memories of my little 2nd grade boy telling me to hop on his bed, as he tucked me in with blankets and got out his books to read to me. Blessed. Loved. Precious. I treasured up in my heart when my 6th grade girl would tell me about her day and the ups and downs of middle school; feeling so blessed that she shared with me; praying so hard that I would have years and years ahead of me to just listen to her talk to me.

Through all of this, I learned I am physically strong, as my body fought with everything it had to beat this invader named breast cancer. It endured extreme treatments, nausea, steroids, exhaustion and hair loss, but never stopped fighting. God gave me the strength to make it one more day, through one more test, one more treatment. He did it. He is absolutely faithful. His eyes never left me and His tears mixed with my own as I would cry out of fear, rage and frustration; when I wondered if I was going to die.

I see my body through a different filter now. I am proud of my scars. They shout out that a battle was waged and won. I want to be strong and healthy, so I do what I love – hiking, biking, swimming and all things outdoors.  I want to enjoy every single second of life I am given. If my son asks me to go get ice cream, I will. It’s a memory we are making and it makes me happy that he wants to share it with me. So I will eat ice cream and I will not worry over whether or not I will look ok in a swim suit because of it. I am alive and that is enough. Our days are numbered and I want to take advantage of each one with those I fiercely love.

I am mentally and spiritually stronger, as well. Despite days of deep sadness, fear of the unknown, rage and brain fog, I told myself I would get through this; that cancer would not win and that God would not give me more than I could handle. I knew God would be with me through every test, every treatment, every bit of good and bad news. I held on to that and He proved Himself faithful and merciful and compassionate. Yes, it was the hardest thing I have ever done. Yes, it put my body, mind and soul to the ultimate test, but I am an overcomer and I am victorious in Christ Jesus.

During other trials that have come along since this cancer diagnosis, I have looked back on all that Jesus brought me through.  It gives me strength and courage to face the trials that I know are coming. Life is hard, unpredictable and unfair, but I have found that if you look closely, you will find nuggets of joy and hidden treasures of beauty in everything. It is there just waiting to be discovered, but you have to look for it, change your filter from a victim mentality and choose life; choose to find peace, hope and sweetness in whatever is swirling around you. I promise you it is there. I remind myself daily, sometimes minute by minute, that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. It is only by His strength, love and healing that I am here to live another day and breathe another breath. It is His breath in my lungs and as long as I live, I will give Jesus the praise, honor and thanks due Him. He saved my life and changed my perspective. I am thankful. I have another day to live and my prayer is that I leave everyone better than I found them. Peace and love, readers.

Hurt and Healer

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.

 

Divine Exchange

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

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.

Hidden in Silence

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

Something to ponder…

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

Sanctuary

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