Father, Son, Spirit ...
complete
perfect circle
perfect unity
all in one
and yet
there came a moment when these three in one
took a risk
and invited in a 14 year old girl
in all her littleness
to become pregnant with the plans of God
and there comes a moment
from time to time
when we
each one
in all our littleness
are invited in
to become pregnant with the plans of God
to birth the plans of Father, Son and Spirit
on this earth
in this soil
in the fullness of time
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
a state of abandonment
In the state of abandonment the only rule is the duty of the present moment. In this the soul is light as a feather, liquid as water, simple as a child, active as a ball in receiving and following all the inspirations of grace. Such souls have no more consistence and rigidity than molten metal. As this takes any form according to the mould into which it is poured, so those souls are pliant and easily receptive of any form that God chooses to give them. In a word, their disposition resembles the atmosphere, which is affected by every breeze; or water which flows into any shaped vessel excatly filling every crevice. They are before God like a perfectly woven fabric with a clear surface; and neither think nor seek to know what God will be pleased to trace thereon; because they have confidence in Him, they abandon themselves to Him and entirely absorbed by their duty they think not of themselves nor of what may be necessary for them nor of how to obtain it. The more assiduously do they apply themselves to their little work, so simple, so hidden, so secret and outwardly contemptible, the more does God embroider and embellish it with brilliat colours. On the surface of this simple canvas of love and obedience His hand traces the most beautiful design, the most delicate and intricate pattern, the most divine figures.
It is true that a canvas simply and blindly given up to the work of the pencil only feels its movement at each moment, Each blow of the hammer on the chisel can only produce one cruel mark at a time, and the stone struck be repeated blows cannot know, nor see the form produced by them. It only feels that it is being diminished, filed, cut, and altered by the chisel. And a stone that is destined to become a crucifix or a statue without knowing it, if it were asked “What is happening to you?” would reply if it could speak, “Do not ask me, I only know one thing and that is to remain immovable in the hands of my master, to love him and to endure all that he inflicts upon me. As for the end for which I am destined it is his business to understand how it is to be accomplished; I am as ignorant of what he is doing as of what I am destined to become; all I know is that his work is the best and the most perfect that could be and I receive each blow of the chisel as the most excellent thing that could happen to me, although truth to tell each blow in my opinion causes the idea of ruin, destruction, disfigurement. But that is not my affair, content with the present moment, I think of nothing but my duty and I endure the work of this clever master without knowing or occupying myself about it.”
It is true that a canvas simply and blindly given up to the work of the pencil only feels its movement at each moment, Each blow of the hammer on the chisel can only produce one cruel mark at a time, and the stone struck be repeated blows cannot know, nor see the form produced by them. It only feels that it is being diminished, filed, cut, and altered by the chisel. And a stone that is destined to become a crucifix or a statue without knowing it, if it were asked “What is happening to you?” would reply if it could speak, “Do not ask me, I only know one thing and that is to remain immovable in the hands of my master, to love him and to endure all that he inflicts upon me. As for the end for which I am destined it is his business to understand how it is to be accomplished; I am as ignorant of what he is doing as of what I am destined to become; all I know is that his work is the best and the most perfect that could be and I receive each blow of the chisel as the most excellent thing that could happen to me, although truth to tell each blow in my opinion causes the idea of ruin, destruction, disfigurement. But that is not my affair, content with the present moment, I think of nothing but my duty and I endure the work of this clever master without knowing or occupying myself about it.”
Monday, September 25, 2017
community and the banquet
Luke speaks about a banquet, and the invitation to the banquet
and how although originally accepting the invitation to attend, when the meal was ready, everyone found an excuse and did not show up …. the excuses were based upon people, position and possessions …….
and I am struck by the similarities between community and the banquet ..
it is the desire of the that Lord we live in community … he invites us to do so …
just as food and drink are served at a banquet, food and drink that feed the body,
there is food and drink that feed the soul to be found in community …
community living can be messy and it can be hard … it certainly necessitates replacing the I with we …
and yet, when there is a need within the community, too often no one shows up …
the invitation to live in community has been accepted …...but the excuses arise when it is time to come together, to sit at the same table, whether it be a table of suffering, or loss, or pain or ……
and the excuses interestingly are the same …
people, position and possessions ……
and how although originally accepting the invitation to attend, when the meal was ready, everyone found an excuse and did not show up …. the excuses were based upon people, position and possessions …….
and I am struck by the similarities between community and the banquet ..
it is the desire of the that Lord we live in community … he invites us to do so …
just as food and drink are served at a banquet, food and drink that feed the body,
there is food and drink that feed the soul to be found in community …
community living can be messy and it can be hard … it certainly necessitates replacing the I with we …
and yet, when there is a need within the community, too often no one shows up …
the invitation to live in community has been accepted …...but the excuses arise when it is time to come together, to sit at the same table, whether it be a table of suffering, or loss, or pain or ……
and the excuses interestingly are the same …
people, position and possessions ……
the art of listening
I have noted over the past few years how few people listen …..
another’s story is precious, part of the fabric of their lives,
and when they choose to share it, the whole or simply some moments,
care must be taken to listen, to be fully present while listening,
eyes focussed on the story teller, not looking elsewhere, over their shoulder, around the room …
so important not to interject moments of our own story or cast doubt or judgement or attempt to wrap the teller in a cloak of shame ….. why has it become so hard to keep our hearts open and our mouths firmly closed while another speaks …. there is an art to listening that often is missing that we need to rediscover so as to honor one another’s story …...
another’s story is precious, part of the fabric of their lives,
and when they choose to share it, the whole or simply some moments,
care must be taken to listen, to be fully present while listening,
eyes focussed on the story teller, not looking elsewhere, over their shoulder, around the room …
so important not to interject moments of our own story or cast doubt or judgement or attempt to wrap the teller in a cloak of shame ….. why has it become so hard to keep our hearts open and our mouths firmly closed while another speaks …. there is an art to listening that often is missing that we need to rediscover so as to honor one another’s story …...
Friday, April 28, 2017
nothing wasted
there is something so amazing about the very familiar story of the loaves and fishes ....
after the offering, the breaking, the feeding, Jesus Himself orders that all the left overs, the fragments, be gathered up " so nothing is wasted" .....
if we offer our all to Jesus and allow His breaking, He is aware of and cares for our "fragments" ...
the pieces of us that we consider left overs, of no use ..... He wishes them to be gathered up ..
"so nothing is wasted" .....
even our left overs can feed someone else .....
and that happens when we share our story of redemption ...
I have never seen that before .... what an absolutely tender truth ...
"so nothing is wasted" .....
those parts of us that we let fall to the ground Jesus wishes to be gathered up
"so nothing is wasted"
I am so moved by this ......
the more I learn about this man Jesus, the more humbled and astounded I am ....
and that alone breaks me ....
after the offering, the breaking, the feeding, Jesus Himself orders that all the left overs, the fragments, be gathered up " so nothing is wasted" .....
if we offer our all to Jesus and allow His breaking, He is aware of and cares for our "fragments" ...
the pieces of us that we consider left overs, of no use ..... He wishes them to be gathered up ..
"so nothing is wasted" .....
even our left overs can feed someone else .....
and that happens when we share our story of redemption ...
I have never seen that before .... what an absolutely tender truth ...
"so nothing is wasted" .....
those parts of us that we let fall to the ground Jesus wishes to be gathered up
"so nothing is wasted"
I am so moved by this ......
the more I learn about this man Jesus, the more humbled and astounded I am ....
and that alone breaks me ....
Tuesday, April 11, 2017
vision from 2004
One day while in prayer, I saw myself being taken up to heaven. Before me I saw a huge house with many rooms. I knew instantly this was Father’s house. I could feel the love of Father drawing me in, so I began to run as fast as I could to enter the house. As I entered, the Lord walked me through many rooms…. He quietly invited me to follow Him into the most beautiful room in the whole house -the intimacy room. It was absolutely extravagant and beautiful. Upon entering this room I was overwhelmed with love and wanted to stay there forever, In the Spirit I could hear others in all the different rooms in the house. Some were studying books in the library ...others were in the wine cellar. I was somewhat surprised that everyone wasn’t in the intimacy room since it was the most beautiful room in the house. As I was admiring the intimacy chamber, I noticed a little wooden hatch door on the floor adjacent to the bed. It seemed really odd to me because it wasn’t fancy and hardly seemed to fit with the rest of the room. I asked the Lord why it was there and He told me it led down into another room in the house, I asked Him why he would put this door so close to the most beautiful thing in the whole room, the bed. He responded “I keep it here because down there is where I spend most of my time.”. Instantly my curiosity was stirred so I asked what was down there. He said it was the “weeping room”. Although it hardly sounded like a room I wanted to be in, there was a cry in my heart that said if that is where the Lord spends His time, then that is where I want to go. I asked Him if I could go down there with Him and He responded “very few choose to go down there. It is not extravagant like this room. It is lonely, not comfortable and you have to get very low to fit through the door.”. I told Him that I didn’t care what the conditions would be like. I just really wanted to be wherever He was. So we opened the little hatch door and began to slowly climb down a dark staircase until we came to the tiny room. I had to get on my knees to fit through the door because it was so small. As we entered the room it was very simple. All it consisted of was a small wooden chair. One of the walls had a small window in it. The Lord took His seat on the chair and turned His face to look out the window. Instantly I became aware of why this room is called the weeping room. As you look out the window you could see and hear every single cry coming from people on earth. You could see every single act of injustice all at the same time. Every starving child crying out to God, every woman being raped, every moan of the rejected. You could hear every prayer , every cry all at the same time. The Lord sat in His chair and watched and heard it all. At once I was overwhelmed with intercession and began to weep. I wept for hours. I wept for those who were hurting but even more I was undone by this beautiful King who would choose to spend His time in this place. This King who paid such attention to every cry and who was so full of compassion. As I sat and wept with the Lord I began to feel His heart and all my selfish ambition began to fade away. While we were in that place I noticed there was another door in the weeping room. I asked the Lord what was behind that door and He told me that was where the strategy room was. As he said those words instantly in my spirit I. knew in that room divine strategy for end time revival was available. Although the door was still closed I recognized that wisdom and revelation were in there. Heavenly blueprints were laid out to see the fulfilment of His kingdom coming to earth from that room. It was the hidden room that everyone searches for. Everyone longs to have divine strategy. I immediately asked if I could go in there and the Lord soberly told me that I didn’t fit through the door. I instantly understood that I had to spend time in the weeping room. As I began to really apprehend the heart of God for the poor and the broken, then issues of my soulish nature would be stripped away until I would become small enough to fit through the door. At that moment everything became clear. This was the way to access divine strategy. From the place of intimacy God invites us to a deeper level - He beckons us into the weeping room - a place where we choose to see what He sees and feel what He feels. And as we spend time getting the heart of God things of our flesh begin to be stripped away until we are small enough to fit through the door that leads to the strategy room. I had this encounter over two years ago but believe God is now moving many in the church from a place of intimacy into weeping. This will lead them into the strategy room. In actuality you never have to leave the intimacy room you just discover the deeper levels. Many have surrendered themselves to the weeping room and extravagantly pursued the heart of God for the broken, they are now being invited into the strategy room.
I had another encounter a little over a year ago in which I heard a loud voice say “it’s time!!” and in the spirit I saw the strategy door swing open. God is inviting us into divine strategy that will release a global harvest of souls and establish the revelation of His kingdom on earth through overcoming saints. I believe that as we enter the strategy room we will be compelled and moved by what we have seen and felt in the weeping room. I have a sense that some have gone before us into the strategy room. Unfortunately most quickly forgot what the strategy was for and used it to build their own kingdom. (Haggai 1:3-7)
God is in the process of raising up a whole company of believers who are repulsed at the idea of building their own kingdom. This company will have their hearts truly branded with passion and compassion. These arethe ones that God is looking to release into the strategy room.
It’s time!
I had another encounter a little over a year ago in which I heard a loud voice say “it’s time!!” and in the spirit I saw the strategy door swing open. God is inviting us into divine strategy that will release a global harvest of souls and establish the revelation of His kingdom on earth through overcoming saints. I believe that as we enter the strategy room we will be compelled and moved by what we have seen and felt in the weeping room. I have a sense that some have gone before us into the strategy room. Unfortunately most quickly forgot what the strategy was for and used it to build their own kingdom. (Haggai 1:3-7)
God is in the process of raising up a whole company of believers who are repulsed at the idea of building their own kingdom. This company will have their hearts truly branded with passion and compassion. These arethe ones that God is looking to release into the strategy room.
It’s time!
Thursday, March 30, 2017
rediscovering a voice
yesterday I had the privilege of sitting with a gentle woman
whom I have sat with in a group for a few years
but never before had it been just the two of us ..
this lovely woman carries herself with a quiet elegance
and always looks peace-filled and at ease ...
I knew a tiny piece of her story ....
her husband died about 18 months ago
and she had been to Isreal
but that is all I knew ..
she had asked if she could come and sit for a bit ..
almost immediately her story started to come out
she spoke dispassionately, giving facts,
fighting emotions ....
and it was a sad sad story
of a marriage
that was all fake ..
there was no unity of heart, mind or spirit ..
only hard control
there was no tendeness, no expression of love
no times of being cherished
of being wanted
of being heard
of being seen
all while being upstanding, upfront pillars of the Christian commnity ...
her life was all a sham
she shared that in order to communicate with her husband
she had to write him a letter .... he would not
or could not
or chose not
to hear her voice
let alone her heart ...
and now, she finally had the courage to speak
to start tearing off the shrouds of death she had been wrapped in
for years
and years
she rediscovered her voice
and saw that the world did not end because she dared to speak the truth
and so we began a journey together ...
she will come back when. she is ready to again speak
and together we will move forward into the Light ...
I so admire her courage
but am left with this huge wondering ....
how many of us are out there?
how many of us are living a lie
a sham
how many of us have lost our voice
when I look around at my sisters
what do I see
when anyone looks at me
what do they see
God have mercy ....
whom I have sat with in a group for a few years
but never before had it been just the two of us ..
this lovely woman carries herself with a quiet elegance
and always looks peace-filled and at ease ...
I knew a tiny piece of her story ....
her husband died about 18 months ago
and she had been to Isreal
but that is all I knew ..
she had asked if she could come and sit for a bit ..
almost immediately her story started to come out
she spoke dispassionately, giving facts,
fighting emotions ....
and it was a sad sad story
of a marriage
that was all fake ..
there was no unity of heart, mind or spirit ..
only hard control
there was no tendeness, no expression of love
no times of being cherished
of being wanted
of being heard
of being seen
all while being upstanding, upfront pillars of the Christian commnity ...
her life was all a sham
she shared that in order to communicate with her husband
she had to write him a letter .... he would not
or could not
or chose not
to hear her voice
let alone her heart ...
and now, she finally had the courage to speak
to start tearing off the shrouds of death she had been wrapped in
for years
and years
she rediscovered her voice
and saw that the world did not end because she dared to speak the truth
and so we began a journey together ...
she will come back when. she is ready to again speak
and together we will move forward into the Light ...
I so admire her courage
but am left with this huge wondering ....
how many of us are out there?
how many of us are living a lie
a sham
how many of us have lost our voice
when I look around at my sisters
what do I see
when anyone looks at me
what do they see
God have mercy ....
Thursday, March 23, 2017
emerald ash borer
I remember so well the first time I saw this absolutely beautiful creature ...
it was a brilliant green, a little larger than a grass hopper ...
sitting perfectly still on the road .... I carefully picked it up and moved it over
into the grass so no one would run over it ...I was mezmorized by its unique beauty ...
a week or so later, I saw another ..
this time down by the water, on the side of a stump ..
shedding its skin.... I watched fascinated, taking care no one touched it
or harmed it in any way ....I still had no idea what it was ... just that it
was so very attractive that my desire was to protect it from being killed ...
only later, much later, did I learn about the emerald ash borer .....
a stunningly beautiful, seductively attractive killer .....
this thing that is so amazingly attractive
bores into the ash tree ...
bores right to the core, the heart, of the tree ...
unless you look very carefully to find evidence of its route to the core
you would not be aware of its presence ...
it simply hides inside sucking and feeding on the sap,
the lifeblood, of the tree
for some years
until one season the leaves begin to droop a bit,
and then the next season the leaf growth thins out considerably
and then next the branches are totally bare
and the tree begins its quiet inevitable journey into death
and is this not a picture of sin .....
how attractive it can look
how seductively beautiful it can seem
birthing a desire to protect it ..
place it somewhere no one would kill it ....
and before you are aware
this beautiful thing has penetrated right to our core
right into our heart
and unless it is uprooted
and put to death
it will suck the life out of us
and put us to death .....
is there an emerald ash borer hovering near by
trying to catch my attention ????
it was a brilliant green, a little larger than a grass hopper ...
sitting perfectly still on the road .... I carefully picked it up and moved it over
into the grass so no one would run over it ...I was mezmorized by its unique beauty ...
a week or so later, I saw another ..
this time down by the water, on the side of a stump ..
shedding its skin.... I watched fascinated, taking care no one touched it
or harmed it in any way ....I still had no idea what it was ... just that it
was so very attractive that my desire was to protect it from being killed ...
only later, much later, did I learn about the emerald ash borer .....
a stunningly beautiful, seductively attractive killer .....
this thing that is so amazingly attractive
bores into the ash tree ...
bores right to the core, the heart, of the tree ...
unless you look very carefully to find evidence of its route to the core
you would not be aware of its presence ...
it simply hides inside sucking and feeding on the sap,
the lifeblood, of the tree
for some years
until one season the leaves begin to droop a bit,
and then the next season the leaf growth thins out considerably
and then next the branches are totally bare
and the tree begins its quiet inevitable journey into death
and is this not a picture of sin .....
how attractive it can look
how seductively beautiful it can seem
birthing a desire to protect it ..
place it somewhere no one would kill it ....
and before you are aware
this beautiful thing has penetrated right to our core
right into our heart
and unless it is uprooted
and put to death
it will suck the life out of us
and put us to death .....
it is interesting that while some birds might rest on a branch
or take shelter amongst the leaves
no bird ever nests in these infected trees ..
they seem to understand
this is no place to give birth
to bring vulnerable new life into being
is there an emerald ash borer hovering near by
trying to catch my attention ????
Friday, March 17, 2017
the scream
The Scream
If I ever let out the scream inside me, it will be heard for miles. It will echo across acres of land and tens of years. It will be a scream of rage and hurt and violation and of things wrongfully taken. It will put fear into the hearts of wild beasts, topple mountains and shatter the calm. It will ripple and grow and turn in upon itself as it simultaneously devours everything in its path.
If I ever let out the scream inside me, it will come from the very depths of my soul. It will start at my toes, explode through my heart, spring out through my tears. It will freeze my face in an expression of terror and pain. It will rip through the essence of my being. It would convulse my body into spasms of anguish and sorrow.
I would know, at that instant, how murders happen, how suicides are excused or explained...how vulnerable each of us really are.
I would scream the rage for myself and every other child throughout time that has been hurt, abused, neglected, afraid, abandoned or forgotten. I would scream the rage for myself and every other child throughout time that has sought comfort and been turned away or ignored, that looked for answers without knowing the questions.
If I ever let out the scream inside me it would be an emotional vomiting of things rotten and diseased, of things soured and spoiled...contaminated things that sit and churn and cannot be purged by any other means than an immense, sudden and explosive release. For the feelings behind the scream are volatile....and pressurized.
If I ever let out the scream inside me, I will have to do it alone, for I was alone when it was forced upon me in the first place. The scream is mine and mine alone. It is one of the few things I was allowed to keep. Most everything else was taken.
But now the scream wants to be set free....it doesn't want to be mine anymore. It demands release. How can I expect anyone to hold me near? I don't even want to be here...Hide, hide! Go to sleep! Maybe it will fade away. Maybe it will stay... I don't think so. I think it wants out.
It hurts! It swells and presses outward...but I can't let it go!!! I am paralyzed by it. It's got ME captive instead of the other way around.
Or...maybe we're both prisoners of each other....? I just don't know....
If I ever let out the scream inside me, it will be heard for miles. It will echo across acres of land and tens of years. It will be a scream of rage and hurt and violation and of things wrongfully taken. It will put fear into the hearts of wild beasts, topple mountains and shatter the calm. It will ripple and grow and turn in upon itself as it simultaneously devours everything in its path.
If I ever let out the scream inside me, it will come from the very depths of my soul. It will start at my toes, explode through my heart, spring out through my tears. It will freeze my face in an expression of terror and pain. It will rip through the essence of my being. It would convulse my body into spasms of anguish and sorrow.
I would know, at that instant, how murders happen, how suicides are excused or explained...how vulnerable each of us really are.
I would scream the rage for myself and every other child throughout time that has been hurt, abused, neglected, afraid, abandoned or forgotten. I would scream the rage for myself and every other child throughout time that has sought comfort and been turned away or ignored, that looked for answers without knowing the questions.
If I ever let out the scream inside me it would be an emotional vomiting of things rotten and diseased, of things soured and spoiled...contaminated things that sit and churn and cannot be purged by any other means than an immense, sudden and explosive release. For the feelings behind the scream are volatile....and pressurized.
If I ever let out the scream inside me, I will have to do it alone, for I was alone when it was forced upon me in the first place. The scream is mine and mine alone. It is one of the few things I was allowed to keep. Most everything else was taken.
But now the scream wants to be set free....it doesn't want to be mine anymore. It demands release. How can I expect anyone to hold me near? I don't even want to be here...Hide, hide! Go to sleep! Maybe it will fade away. Maybe it will stay... I don't think so. I think it wants out.
It hurts! It swells and presses outward...but I can't let it go!!! I am paralyzed by it. It's got ME captive instead of the other way around.
Or...maybe we're both prisoners of each other....? I just don't know....
hidden gifts
there are some who are deeply wounded
so crippled by their wounds
that all one sees are the wounds
often those wounds have a voice
that screams and disrupts and demands attention
but
there are some
who have wonderful gifts
buried in those wounds
and too often
we ignore, cast aside, throw away
the wounded
and never see those gifts
so crippled by their wounds
that all one sees are the wounds
often those wounds have a voice
that screams and disrupts and demands attention
but
there are some
who have wonderful gifts
buried in those wounds
and too often
we ignore, cast aside, throw away
the wounded
and never see those gifts
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
March 15/17
how is your heart ?????
this is the question that fills me ......
it is not so much what happens,but rather my response to what happens ...
how is my heart?
it is sooooo hard to live in a black pool of negativity ..
there are times my feet struggle to find bottom so as not to sink ..
how I long to laugh ....
how I long to simply live every moment in childlike delight
how I long to bash the negative with a huge BUT .....
so much to be grateful for ...
here we are in the midst of this huge storm ..
snow and wind and cold everywhere ..
people being hurt ... one man has died ...
and I sit by the fire,
coffee in hand,
warm, safe .....
and I give thanks for the little things often taken for granted ...
even my freedom .... or especially my freedom!
teach me Lord to live from a child like trust in You
Jesus asks "what do you want?"
how would I answer ....
what would come out of my mouth .....
it is hard to drink this cup ...
it does not always taste nice, or sit well ...
often causes indigestion
HEARTBURN ....
how is your heart??????
how is my heart ......
this is the question that fills me ......
it is not so much what happens,but rather my response to what happens ...
how is my heart?
it is sooooo hard to live in a black pool of negativity ..
there are times my feet struggle to find bottom so as not to sink ..
how I long to laugh ....
how I long to simply live every moment in childlike delight
how I long to bash the negative with a huge BUT .....
so much to be grateful for ...
here we are in the midst of this huge storm ..
snow and wind and cold everywhere ..
people being hurt ... one man has died ...
and I sit by the fire,
coffee in hand,
warm, safe .....
and I give thanks for the little things often taken for granted ...
even my freedom .... or especially my freedom!
teach me Lord to live from a child like trust in You
Jesus asks "what do you want?"
how would I answer ....
what would come out of my mouth .....
it is hard to drink this cup ...
it does not always taste nice, or sit well ...
often causes indigestion
HEARTBURN ....
how is your heart??????
how is my heart ......
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
weapons of mass destruction
so much war all around
killings, maimings, beheadings ...
violence done one to another
in the name of ?????
rockets fired one nation into another
death dropped from the skies
men, women, children killed indiscriminately ..
from near
from afar
and just as lethal
a whisper of doubt
a hint
a soft suggestion
death comes in many forms
some sudden
some seeping in over years and years
blood soaked ground
crushed and broken spirit
each one a victim ....
bombs destroy buildings
a simple whisper can deatroy this temple
killings, maimings, beheadings ...
violence done one to another
in the name of ?????
rockets fired one nation into another
death dropped from the skies
men, women, children killed indiscriminately ..
from near
from afar
and just as lethal
a whisper of doubt
a hint
a soft suggestion
death comes in many forms
some sudden
some seeping in over years and years
blood soaked ground
crushed and broken spirit
each one a victim ....
bombs destroy buildings
a simple whisper can deatroy this temple
Tuesday March 14/17
Jesus knocks
Jesus waits
I invite Him in and ask for the grace to be open to what He is asking of me ...
grace to receive the pressing of His finger prints deep into the clay of me ...
the scripture reading this morning was about authority and what authority means ..
how to carry it out, how to live it out ...
authority is not for power
but for empowering ......
may it always be so in my life ...
look into my heart Lord ...
hear the words I cannot speak
feel the longing I cannot utter
as I live and be on the thin edge of this broken sorrow .....
and bend
to pick up a towel
Jesus waits
I invite Him in and ask for the grace to be open to what He is asking of me ...
grace to receive the pressing of His finger prints deep into the clay of me ...
the scripture reading this morning was about authority and what authority means ..
how to carry it out, how to live it out ...
authority is not for power
but for empowering ......
may it always be so in my life ...
look into my heart Lord ...
hear the words I cannot speak
feel the longing I cannot utter
as I live and be on the thin edge of this broken sorrow .....
and bend
to pick up a towel
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
have been thinking about Bartimaeous ...
it is said he was blind ...
spending his time sitting by the roadside
on a mat
and Zaccheous ....
it is said he was short
so he climbed a tree ...
to better see
or was it to see while yet hidden ....
and Mary ....
it is said she had been with many men
they each had a level of desperation
that touched the heart of Jesus
Bartimaeous cried louder when told to be quiet
Zaccheous precariously perched to peer through the foliage
Mary pushed her way through walls of blackrobed religiosity and legalism
how many times have I too cried out louder
climbed higher
pushed harder
you weren't there
you didn't know
you didn't hear
you didn't see
when He found me
and so I still cry
climb and push
to be with Him
to break my life open before Him
to wash His feet with my tears
to be loved while being known
is a wondrous thing ...
He knows
and
He loves
and so I will continue to cry
to climb
to push
it is said he was blind ...
spending his time sitting by the roadside
on a mat
and Zaccheous ....
it is said he was short
so he climbed a tree ...
to better see
or was it to see while yet hidden ....
and Mary ....
it is said she had been with many men
they each had a level of desperation
that touched the heart of Jesus
Bartimaeous cried louder when told to be quiet
Zaccheous precariously perched to peer through the foliage
Mary pushed her way through walls of blackrobed religiosity and legalism
how many times have I too cried out louder
climbed higher
pushed harder
you weren't there
you didn't know
you didn't hear
you didn't see
when He found me
and so I still cry
climb and push
to be with Him
to break my life open before Him
to wash His feet with my tears
to be loved while being known
is a wondrous thing ...
He knows
and
He loves
and so I will continue to cry
to climb
to push
remission
re·mis·sion
rəˈmiSH(ə)n/
noun
the cancellation of a debt, charge, or penalty."the plan allows for the partial remission of tuition fees"
synonyms: cancellation, setting aside, suspension, revocation;
formalabrogation"the remission of all fees"- formalforgiveness of sins.
synonyms: forgiveness, pardoning, absolution, exoneration;
formalexculpation"the remission of sins"
A decrease in or disappearance of signs and symptoms of cancer. In partial remission, some, but not all, signs and symptoms of cancer have disappeared. In complete remission, all signs and symptoms of cancer have disappeared, although cancer still may be in the body.
we had this word spoken to us, into us, over us, a week ago and I have been pondering it ever since .....the signs, the symptoms have now been treated, dealt with and are no longer seen ..... although the remnants are still felt ...
there is still an awareness of the cancer dragon that lurks within ....
the need to live wisely, carefully, so as not to awaken him again ....
and is this not like sin???? one can deal with the visible manifestations of sin, put sin to death.... at least for the moment .... but the propensity to sin always lurks within. ...
like cancer, the sin dragon simply waits to be awakened ......
cancer is quietened by filling the body with poison, bringing one to the very edge of death and then hopefully pulling them back ..
sin, on the other hand, comes out as poison, bringing everyone it touches to the very edge of death, and sometimes beyond the edge .....
but there is remission sometimes ....
remission of cancer
remission of the cancer of sin ....
this is quite a journey
Saturday, February 4, 2017
foot prints
while glancing out the back window this morning
I noted foot prints, all sorts of foot prints, in the fresh snow ...
we live on the edge of the woods and regularly have lots of visitors
n the night searching for food but it is not always there is evidence of
their visit .... this morning it is obvious there were many last night who stopped by ...
some prints skipped lightly across the surface
some went in a perfectly straight line
some hopped all over the place
some went very deep, pressing right down to the frozen ground
but each one left its mark
and I pondered all the people who have walked in and out of my life
some stayed for a season
some stayed for years
some were simply quickly in and out
but each one left a mark on the land of me ...
the ones who skipped lightly in and out
the ones who trod heavily
the ones who encircled
some left scars
some left deep holes
some barely scratched the surface
but
each
one
left
a
mark .....
I noted foot prints, all sorts of foot prints, in the fresh snow ...
we live on the edge of the woods and regularly have lots of visitors
n the night searching for food but it is not always there is evidence of
their visit .... this morning it is obvious there were many last night who stopped by ...
some prints skipped lightly across the surface
some went in a perfectly straight line
some hopped all over the place
some went very deep, pressing right down to the frozen ground
but each one left its mark
and I pondered all the people who have walked in and out of my life
some stayed for a season
some stayed for years
some were simply quickly in and out
but each one left a mark on the land of me ...
the ones who skipped lightly in and out
the ones who trod heavily
the ones who encircled
some left scars
some left deep holes
some barely scratched the surface
but
each
one
left
a
mark .....
Thursday, February 2, 2017
blind and deaf
how many times are we,
am I,
blinded and deafened by only seeing the outer person
and thus unable to hear their words ....
unable to hear because of the familiarity of the person speaking .....
how often have I missed God because of the person He chose to speak through ....
or because of the situation .....
there is a cerain willingness to be shaped by the hands of God
but if He choses to shape us through another in our life ..
we resist .....
or run ....
am I,
blinded and deafened by only seeing the outer person
and thus unable to hear their words ....
unable to hear because of the familiarity of the person speaking .....
how often have I missed God because of the person He chose to speak through ....
or because of the situation .....
there is a cerain willingness to be shaped by the hands of God
but if He choses to shape us through another in our life ..
we resist .....
or run ....
Tuesday, January 31, 2017
I am undone ......
yesterday,
because I had the freedom to do so,
I did something so horribly foolish
something that did not honor myself
nor my God
something that did not bring life
but only spoke of death and fear and hate ...
I reposted a video that had been posted originally by a site
a teaching site
that I trusted
I saw the title
and thought this is an area where we all need to learn
and so
without watching it myself
without learning myself
I simply reposted it
it was not until my son had the wisdom and the foresight ..
he obviously did watch it ....
to text me and point out the totally inapprorpriate timing of this post
just 24 hours earlier there had been a mass shooting
people were shot simply because they identified with the religion in this video
and here I am
a supposedly mature surrendered woman of Christ
posting something that could promote more violence against this same religion ...
my thought had been simply to educate
if we knew the roots of this religion
we would know better how to pray for these people
but instead Isimply promoted more hate
more violence
I am crushed
not at the video
but at my lack of wisdom
my lack of sensitivity
and I am so grateful for Jesus speaking through my son
bringing it to my attention
thank you Lord for the freedom in which I live
please I pray teach me to live it wisely
carefully
and thus bring honor to You
the giver of this freedom
yesterday,
because I had the freedom to do so,
I did something so horribly foolish
something that did not honor myself
nor my God
something that did not bring life
but only spoke of death and fear and hate ...
I reposted a video that had been posted originally by a site
a teaching site
that I trusted
I saw the title
and thought this is an area where we all need to learn
and so
without watching it myself
without learning myself
I simply reposted it
it was not until my son had the wisdom and the foresight ..
he obviously did watch it ....
to text me and point out the totally inapprorpriate timing of this post
just 24 hours earlier there had been a mass shooting
people were shot simply because they identified with the religion in this video
and here I am
a supposedly mature surrendered woman of Christ
posting something that could promote more violence against this same religion ...
my thought had been simply to educate
if we knew the roots of this religion
we would know better how to pray for these people
but instead Isimply promoted more hate
more violence
I am crushed
not at the video
but at my lack of wisdom
my lack of sensitivity
and I am so grateful for Jesus speaking through my son
bringing it to my attention
thank you Lord for the freedom in which I live
please I pray teach me to live it wisely
carefully
and thus bring honor to You
the giver of this freedom
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
cross marked
I really enjoy working with dough, making bread and buns and rolls ....
there is something deep within me that is touched with the burying of my fingers in the belly of soft dough .....
there is a need to push and press and squeeze and punch without being harsh or meanly aggressive ..
it is important to eliminate unwanted air bubbles as even tiny pockets of air have the possibility to alter the final product .... these tiny, little inoccuous bubbles can expand out of control in the heat required while baking ...
soooooo, I was making hot cross buns and wondering why they are called HOT cross buns as I was shaping each wee ball and then flattening it with the palm of my hand before the final resting and rising time ..... bits of dough with all their spicy perfume buried themselves in the nooks and crannies of my hand ...... we were inextricably one during this process .....just before popping them into the heat of the oven, one has to carve a cross into each top ..... care has to be taken in this carving .... if you carve too deep, or not deep enough, the outcome is affected ...one has to just break the flesh of the bun ....then during the baking heat this cross is beautifully accentuated .... this I guess is the HOT cross ....
and is this not like us ....... during our fomation time with Jesus, He shapes us, prods us, pushes and squeezes us to eliminate anything that should not be within us, then gently marks us so that when we go through the inevitable fire His mark will be seen, will be highlighted ...... it is not a surface mark, but a mark that has required a crucifying of our flesh ......the crucifixion fire releasing His fragrance that is forever part of who we are ..
and even after washing and cleaning up, tiny little remnants of the dough of Who He is will always remain ..... sometimes I get dough under my fingernails and I wonder if there is the clay of me under the fingernails of Almighty God ......
there is something deep within me that is touched with the burying of my fingers in the belly of soft dough .....
there is a need to push and press and squeeze and punch without being harsh or meanly aggressive ..
it is important to eliminate unwanted air bubbles as even tiny pockets of air have the possibility to alter the final product .... these tiny, little inoccuous bubbles can expand out of control in the heat required while baking ...
soooooo, I was making hot cross buns and wondering why they are called HOT cross buns as I was shaping each wee ball and then flattening it with the palm of my hand before the final resting and rising time ..... bits of dough with all their spicy perfume buried themselves in the nooks and crannies of my hand ...... we were inextricably one during this process .....just before popping them into the heat of the oven, one has to carve a cross into each top ..... care has to be taken in this carving .... if you carve too deep, or not deep enough, the outcome is affected ...one has to just break the flesh of the bun ....then during the baking heat this cross is beautifully accentuated .... this I guess is the HOT cross ....
and is this not like us ....... during our fomation time with Jesus, He shapes us, prods us, pushes and squeezes us to eliminate anything that should not be within us, then gently marks us so that when we go through the inevitable fire His mark will be seen, will be highlighted ...... it is not a surface mark, but a mark that has required a crucifying of our flesh ......the crucifixion fire releasing His fragrance that is forever part of who we are ..
and even after washing and cleaning up, tiny little remnants of the dough of Who He is will always remain ..... sometimes I get dough under my fingernails and I wonder if there is the clay of me under the fingernails of Almighty God ......
as a child
there was a moment when Jesus and His friends were on a hillside .....
after a long, full day of teaching, the sun had started to slide beyond the horizon
and evening approached ....Jesus, fully man, realized all who surrounded him,
men, women and children, must be hungry ....he asked his friends to feed everyone ...
there was a huge wondering then amongst the disciples .... how? how can this be done?
and a single young boy came forward and offered all he had .... five loaves and two fishes ...
this boy never stopped to consider that what he had to offer would never be enough to feed thousands ... he never hesitated or tried to figure it out or even hold back because he knew he did not have enough ....in his simple, yet not so simple, innocence, he offered all he had ....
and we all know the story ... Jesus accepted his offering, gave thanks, broke it and everyone was fed .. to overflowing... there was more than enough ...
what has struck me lately is that there must have been others in that huge crowd who had a small lunch yet no one else offered ..... did each one consider the smallness of what they had would never be useful? did they think it would not even be accepted? if they gave up their lunch, were they not willing to go hungry do that someone else might feed? while sitting right at the feet of Jesus was there such selfishness and entitlement that there was no love for a neighbour?????
several times in scripture Jesus speak of children, of being a child, of loving Him with a child-like love ..... not a childish love but a child-like love .... when a child loves, there is absolute trust that the one loved will love in return .... when we "grow up" all this intellectual wondering and posturing begins ....a need for acceptance with a belief that acceptance will only happen if we have something grand to offer .....
and then of course there is this loud huge overwhelming fear of being broken, of being truly seen...
and yet ..... Jesus gave thanks, He broke what was offered and only then was there enough, more than enough ...
we all need to fold the wings of our intellect into our heart and relearn how to live out of our heart ....
how to love as a child .....and offer all we have, all we are, all we ever hope to be ...
and I hear
I am your Father
will you be My child?
after a long, full day of teaching, the sun had started to slide beyond the horizon
and evening approached ....Jesus, fully man, realized all who surrounded him,
men, women and children, must be hungry ....he asked his friends to feed everyone ...
there was a huge wondering then amongst the disciples .... how? how can this be done?
and a single young boy came forward and offered all he had .... five loaves and two fishes ...
this boy never stopped to consider that what he had to offer would never be enough to feed thousands ... he never hesitated or tried to figure it out or even hold back because he knew he did not have enough ....in his simple, yet not so simple, innocence, he offered all he had ....
and we all know the story ... Jesus accepted his offering, gave thanks, broke it and everyone was fed .. to overflowing... there was more than enough ...
what has struck me lately is that there must have been others in that huge crowd who had a small lunch yet no one else offered ..... did each one consider the smallness of what they had would never be useful? did they think it would not even be accepted? if they gave up their lunch, were they not willing to go hungry do that someone else might feed? while sitting right at the feet of Jesus was there such selfishness and entitlement that there was no love for a neighbour?????
several times in scripture Jesus speak of children, of being a child, of loving Him with a child-like love ..... not a childish love but a child-like love .... when a child loves, there is absolute trust that the one loved will love in return .... when we "grow up" all this intellectual wondering and posturing begins ....a need for acceptance with a belief that acceptance will only happen if we have something grand to offer .....
and then of course there is this loud huge overwhelming fear of being broken, of being truly seen...
and yet ..... Jesus gave thanks, He broke what was offered and only then was there enough, more than enough ...
we all need to fold the wings of our intellect into our heart and relearn how to live out of our heart ....
how to love as a child .....and offer all we have, all we are, all we ever hope to be ...
and I hear
I am your Father
will you be My child?
Monday, January 23, 2017
marriage covenant
while reading Ann Voskamp's newest book, The Broken Way,
I came accross the following:
The marriage customs of first century Jews.
When a man had decided whom he had chosen to marry, his father would pour a cup of wine and pass it down to his son. The son would then turn to the young woman he loved and with all the solemnity of an oath before Almighty Yahweh Himself, the young man would hold out the cup of wine to the woman and ask for her hand in marriage. He would ask with these words. “This cup is a new covenant in my blood which I offer to you.”
The words Jesus spoke during what we refer to as the Last Supper are “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which I offer to you.”
The Last Supper was a marriage covenant.
This fact really gobsmacked me and has left me rather undone .... I have been tampered with...
what a holy truth to absorb ........
I came accross the following:
The marriage customs of first century Jews.
When a man had decided whom he had chosen to marry, his father would pour a cup of wine and pass it down to his son. The son would then turn to the young woman he loved and with all the solemnity of an oath before Almighty Yahweh Himself, the young man would hold out the cup of wine to the woman and ask for her hand in marriage. He would ask with these words. “This cup is a new covenant in my blood which I offer to you.”
The words Jesus spoke during what we refer to as the Last Supper are “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which I offer to you.”
The Last Supper was a marriage covenant.
This fact really gobsmacked me and has left me rather undone .... I have been tampered with...
what a holy truth to absorb ........
Saturday, January 21, 2017
so happy to be writing again ......
I am not sure what plugged the flow
or even what released it
but just letting my stumbling words out
giving the jumble of thoughts space to grow instead of ferment
even though it is a bit like slicing an artery and letting my life blood flow
I can breathe again ....
yes, I was breathing all along
but it was as if there was a breath caught inside
pushing against the walls of me
longing to be free, to fly high
it is not important if anyone else ever sees these words
or reads these words
I can again breathe ...
in
and
out
in
and
out
these are not my words to own
I have no claim on these words
they are simply pieces of something
that can only be whole once released
I am so happy to be writing again ....
I am not sure what plugged the flow
or even what released it
but just letting my stumbling words out
giving the jumble of thoughts space to grow instead of ferment
even though it is a bit like slicing an artery and letting my life blood flow
I can breathe again ....
yes, I was breathing all along
but it was as if there was a breath caught inside
pushing against the walls of me
longing to be free, to fly high
it is not important if anyone else ever sees these words
or reads these words
I can again breathe ...
in
and
out
in
and
out
these are not my words to own
I have no claim on these words
they are simply pieces of something
that can only be whole once released
I am so happy to be writing again ....
seasons
there is this lovely potted plant near my window ...I have no idea of it's name but in season, it is covered with trumpet shaped blood red flowers and even out of season, it has an abundance of gorgeously deeply pointed shiny green leaves... it has faithfully delighted me with it's beautiful bounty for many, many years .... lately I have noted that the leaves are yellowing and one by one dropping, no matter how tenderly I cared for it ..... I suspected it was nearing the end of it's lifespan ... this morning I saw that almost all the leaves have now dropped, leaving a bare brown wonderfully twisted stem standing tall and straight and firm ...... at first I was deeply saddened but then while looking more closely I saw a tiny tender shoot poking it's head through the soil and beginning to wrap itself around the still sturdy stem of the now bare and naked plant .....
and this reminds me of life .... human life.... human spiritual life...
when nearing the end of our allotted number of years external things start to drop away, glitter falls to the ground, any external attractiveness wanes, there is no great bounty to catch the attention of other eyes but if our roots are deep and healthy there is still a wonder-filled purpose in this season....
we can be a trellis, a support, a guide, a shoulder, to a tender shoot ....
and this reminds me of life .... human life.... human spiritual life...
when nearing the end of our allotted number of years external things start to drop away, glitter falls to the ground, any external attractiveness wanes, there is no great bounty to catch the attention of other eyes but if our roots are deep and healthy there is still a wonder-filled purpose in this season....
we can be a trellis, a support, a guide, a shoulder, to a tender shoot ....
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
We're here to be loved -- and we can only be loved if we're seen. Try saying what you really feel, what you really see, what you really want, what you really love, what you really mean, with one safe person today. Maybe the safe person is you? Pen and paper works too! You are worthy of being free and known.
we need to create space to hear one another
"What kills a soul?
Exhaustion, secret keeping, image management.
And what brings a soul back from the dead?
Honesty, connection, grace."
- Shauna Niequist
I read recently that you are not loved if you are not known ….
and I completely agree…. the challenge is there is a wall, a huge hard wall, that divides the desire to be known and the willingness to be known ….this is a self-erected wall and thus can only be penetrated, overcome, knocked to smithereens by the one who builds it ….to be known is a scary thing ….it is a risk that can only be taken after trust is the foundation of that risk ….the trust foundation must be built slowly, thoughtfully, carefully and prayerfully …..if there are any cracks in the foundation, sewage can seep in undermining the whole thing. Paradoxically, the sewage as it weakens the foundation, strengthens the wall.
there is this marriage conference about to be held in our church ….
some have been married for some time, some quite some time, and there is a wondering if something can be taken apart without coming apart, without a great permanent undoing happening …. and yet, to be built correctly, on a solid foundation, sometimes a taking part is required ...
we need to create space to hear one another
"What kills a soul?
Exhaustion, secret keeping, image management.
And what brings a soul back from the dead?
Honesty, connection, grace."
- Shauna Niequist
I read recently that you are not loved if you are not known ….
and I completely agree…. the challenge is there is a wall, a huge hard wall, that divides the desire to be known and the willingness to be known ….this is a self-erected wall and thus can only be penetrated, overcome, knocked to smithereens by the one who builds it ….to be known is a scary thing ….it is a risk that can only be taken after trust is the foundation of that risk ….the trust foundation must be built slowly, thoughtfully, carefully and prayerfully …..if there are any cracks in the foundation, sewage can seep in undermining the whole thing. Paradoxically, the sewage as it weakens the foundation, strengthens the wall.
there is this marriage conference about to be held in our church ….
some have been married for some time, some quite some time, and there is a wondering if something can be taken apart without coming apart, without a great permanent undoing happening …. and yet, to be built correctly, on a solid foundation, sometimes a taking part is required ...
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