Advent Needed Today

Last night it was at 2 am.  Sometimes it comes in the quiet of the morning... or maybe it comes into the stillness found when I am chopping vegetables for dinner.  Worry.

Worry comes.  Unbidden.  Unwelcome.  But, it comes and I find myself fighting for breath and truth---searching for a solid rock for my emotions to rest upon.

Worry.  Often about yesterday.  Most often about tomorrow.  The thoughts swirl around my mind and my heart.  Dizzy with what feels "real"...but, in reality isn't real at all.  It isn't now.  It's a story.  It is only a fictional piece playing in my mind:  Re-membering yesterday and fore-telling tomorrow.  What might have been?  What I should have done.  What I did wrong?  Will I have enough?  What might come?  What could be the end of this story line?  What if?

Last night it came at 2 am.

The darkness and loneliness of night makes the battle evermore fierce sometimes, doesn't it?

Truth fought hard at the corners and edge of my mind last night.  Do not worry.   Do not be afraid.  Do not be anxious about anything.  I heard the whispers.  But, these words felt so far off.  He felt so far off.

Lord, why is it so hard sometimes for me to take this in?  Why can I not live in this freedom that you offer and bought for me?  

Lessons long learned.  Lessons taught and written about here.  Freedom found.  And, so easily lost... again.  I believe.  Help me with my unbelief!

Morning came.  It always does.  Oh, my Dayspring!  "...through the tender mercy of God, whereby the dayspring from on high hast visited us, to give light to them that sit in the darkness..."  (Luke 1:76-79)

His faithfulness found me here again.  This morning I came.  I sat and waited.  I listened to His Word.  I asked.  Today, a fresh day.  A day to stand on His Truth and He, Himself, as the rock that can steady my heart.  His hold ever secure in midst of the fictional flood that overwhelmed me last night.

He came.  Today, He came.  My Dayspring.  My love.

Love comes.

Truth comes.  Light floods.  Welcomed.  Asked for.  ...hoped for.  The coming.  The Advent again this morning.  Fresh coming.  His whispers---ever steadfast---won and pushed through this morning.  No longer at the edge, His Presence filled.

Advent means the arrival.  The coming.  The rising.  The dawning.  My Advent, my Jesus!  Oh how this heart needs Your coming each and every day.


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The Loaves

"Fraud alert!" is never a good email subject line.  Right?

Usually these alerts amount to nothing.  Something I did has triggered the credit card or bank alert system. But, not yesterday.  

Yesterday 1,000 dollars was taken from my bank account.  After seeing the alert, I logged into our bank and my savings account sat there staring at me with 0.08 cents as it's balance.  Black and white.  8 cents. The money was gone!   

In the following micro seconds, while staring at the 8 cents,  I had a fervent stream of  deep fear and worry.... my daughter's help for college, travel to my brother's wedding this summer, the car breaks...  AH!  How?!  NO!?!  

And then almost immediately the phrase came into my mind... understand and remember the loaves...

Quiet and whispered...  remember the loaves, Stephanie.  

The phrase floated over my consciousness, as I sat staring at my empty bank account, and I could feel a peaceful invitation.  Actually, maybe a smiling, happy invitation:  Come in... You need never be afraid.  You can be unmoved.  You actually can trust Me right now, too.  

Recently, my son and I have been discussing this "loaves" phrase from Matthew 6: 50-52 " Take courage!  It is I.  Do not be afraid.  Then He climbed into the boat with them and the wind died down.  They were completely amazed, for they had not understood about the loaves; their hearts were hard"

Directly after watching Jesus feed five thousand people, the disciples get into a boat and get caught in rocky, difficult weather and water.  They are afraid.  Jesus walks to them on the water and that freaks-them-out maybe more!  The minute He gets in the boat, the water calms.  This surprised and shocked them, too.  What?  Jesus can do miracles?  What?  He can walk on water?  ...and in His presence, the wind dies down?!  It is almost as if this was the first time they had seen Him do miracles.  But it wasn't!! They had already seen so much.  In fact, He had JUST fed five thousand mouths in front of their eyes.  (with twelve left over baskets of fish and loaves, I might add!) 

But, their hearts were hard and they hadn't taken it in.  They hadn't understood.  They weren't remembering.  They were walking into this new situation---rough, tough seas and the ghost of Jesus--- and they were not translating His previous work to their difficult-now.  

How often do I do this?  How often do I forget?  

Oh! How many thousands of loaves has He given me and others I love!?!  Oh... how many answered prayers has He heard and answered.  He has lavished His very Self on and in me.  Years and years of fresh, daily miracles:  His power shown forth in food and the elements.  In the midst of difficult and the hard He has been present.    

In that early morning moment in front of my empty bank account, I stopped.  I hear you, Lord.  Almost with a slight giggle myself, I said out loud:  I understand the loaves, Lord!  I will remember and not harden my heart.   And, I left it.  ...not physically, of course.  There are phone calls and emails to be written---follow-up needed.  But, I left it emotionally.   I really left it.  

The whole day I left it.  Because of the time zone issue, there was nothing to be done till evening.  But, I dropped it and moved on in my day with peace and joy.  

With the trust, there was an implicit assumption and understanding that it may mean the money was gone for good, never to be recovered.  Sometimes God says, "No" to our requests.  He doesn't always give us physical loaves, to be sure.  Jesus never promises that the boat isn't going to rock!! 

If the money is gone for good...  Jesus, You've got this and You are with me!  

If it can be recovered... Jesus, You've got this and You are with me!  

I need never worry.  

I do worry sometimes.  And, I do harden my heart.  I don't always hear or respond to His peace-filled invitations.  But...  

Today, I understood the loaves.  

*In the end, the situation was sorted by the bank.  The money was returned.  There was indeed theft and apparently someone in New York had my debit card (even though I have it in hand here in the UK).  The joys of this dark and clever criminal world we live in!  But, in truth, all is well.  By the end of the day... all bread was back in the basket!  And I have plenty.    ...but, actually, in truth, I had plenty and enough when the bank account showed 0.08 cents.   

Can you just sit and wait, Stephanie?

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It was 2 in the afternoon when the electricity went off.

Surprised, I got up and went in search of the landlady to let her know.

I had come away for a few days of quiet retreat with the Lord.  Staying in a tiny little cottage down the road from my house, I had been having a great time journaling and praying.  

Hardly even bothered about the electrics, I stuck my head out of the cottage and happened upon the landlady to let her know about the shut-down. She wasn't surprised; but apologetically explained that she would have it all sorted by 4----a few hours time.  No worries, right?  

The hours past quickly as I continued to worship, journal, read and pray.  I first realized the passing of time when I noticed the darkening of the room and I started to get a little cold (the heating is connected to the electrics).  I got up in order to start the kettle for a cup of tea.  ...no electricity.   Looking at the clock, it was now 5 PM...  and the daylight was quickly leaving.  My little cottage was starting to get dark and cold---and I just wanted a hot drink.  

So, slightly bothered now, I popped my head out of the cottage in search of the landlady.  She was no where to be found.  So, I ventured out...  finding the electricians hard at work by flashlight and lanterns.  Yes, darkness was indeed quickly descending.  

I politely asked them when they might be done working... and they assured me that it would only be another half hour at most.  As I turned away from them and began walking back to my dark cabin, I felt the strong urge to cry... sadness was welling up---hard and fast.  

Wow!  These strong emotions...for this relatively small thing, Lord...  What is this about, Father? I want to weep here.  What is really going on in my heart.  

I sat down and picked up my journal and with the trickle of light from the descending sun,  I wrote: "This is definitely not only about the electricity!" 

I spent the next few minutes crying and writing...  trying to articulate all the "small" and large things that have been frustrating lately.  ...the myriad of things that I am and have been waiting for.  

Waiting.  It is not an easy thing to do!  I am not a patient person.  ...and there is a lot of waiting and ambiguity in this life.  

The landlady said it would be working at 4:00... it was now nearly 6 PM.  I was cold, getting hungry, tired, and it was dark.  I was imminently loosing my the ability to do any journaling or reading.  

The next hour was spent in utter frustration.  In and out of the cottage, I went.  Making my annoyance known in small ways... I paced, I sighed.  I asked again--- when?  When will this be sorted?  I kept getting the same answer...  only a few more minutes.  Surely just 20 more minutes.  

The sadness I had been feeling slowly and steadily turned to anger.  Utter frustration.  

As I sat in the dark cabin... verses kept coming to my head, on after another.  Wait on the Lord.  Wait for the Lord continually (Hosea 12:6).  Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him (Psalm 37:7).  I wait for the Lord, my soul waits!  (Psalm 130:5)  

Just wait.  Can you just wait?  

Stephanie, wait on the Lord. 

At 7:15, I texted my husband:  Dark.  Cold.  Hungry.  Electricity is still out.  I am done.  I am so frustrated.  Waiting in the dark...  

He wrote back:  Do you want me to come get you?  

Clear as a sun-filled day, I knew in that instant the answer to that kind question from my husband...  

I knew.  I knew I needed to wait.  

I texted back...  I don't know.  ...No,  I think God is asking me to wait.  

He texted back...  Ok.  Wait it is.  Hmmmm...  Waiting in the dark.  Praying for you right now.  

Yep!  He knows.  My husband knows all the things we are waiting for.  

In that moment, I put my phone down.  I  walked over with distinct purpose and sat on the couch. With stubborn resolve... with a sorta-"fine, then!"-mild tantrum feeling, I sat down.

OK, Lord,  I am going to wait!!  I don't know how long, but here I am...  Here I am.  I am waiting.  Into the dark, I went and I sat. Hands on my knees, sitting with obstinate determination... I sat and chose to wait. In that moment I felt surrender.  

It was only seconds, hardly even a minute later...the lights came on.  

Just like that... as if with perfect comedic timing the Lord responded to my final surrender with: Good!  Well done.  Finally!  And, bam! the electricity came on.  

It was 7:30 PM and God had another life lessons for me...  Can you wait, Stephanie?  Just stop, sit down... be still and know that I am God.  Not the first time we have been here!  But, indeed, here we are again.   Just waiting.  

A Friend's Lament...Tears as Intercession

When I heard the news, I immediately burst into tears!

Tragedy struck my friend's family last weekend and I could barely believe my eyes as I read.  NO!  I can't possibly be understanding this correctly... No, Lord... NO!

The stream of tears surprised me.  Tears, like I have said before, are not a norm for me... and yet, they came like a torrent.  I wept for my friend.  I wept for the loss of a brother.  I wept for the children. Very few words... only tears.

It was as if the Lord was allowing me to feel, just a small tiny bit, of what she and her kiddos must be feeling when they heard that their father was gone.  ...in an instant.  One car.   One moment.  And, his life here on earth was over.

The shock.  The trauma.  The confusion. The pain.  ...oh! the grief, Lord!

While, I know, we don't grieve like those without faith... (1 Thessalonians 4:13) We have a great and enduring hope!  I am certain, without any shadow, where this man who loved God is now living--- oh! the glory of the resurrection! 

BUT, while we don't grieve without hope; we do still grieve.  We must grieve.  We must lament. We turn our hearts and our tears into a Psalm to set before the Father's heart.   When I read the news, I wanted to wail, to rend my garments and put ash on my head.

Our hearts are made for eternity.  Death is a separation that cuts and bleeds and tears at our very God-made natures.  We know we are made for more... for always-togetherness.  Death feels like a harsh blow in the now.

For days now, I have been carrying this friend.  Night and day.  As if I am walking so very closely to these dear ones.  It is like I can hear their hearts, feel their cries.  I have been feeling deep and profound sadness for days.  "When one part of the body hurts, the whole of the body hurts."  (1 Corinthians 12:26)  I know I am not alone in this pain-carrying.  I see it on social media.  Others are affected by this loss of a friend, a brother, a mentor.  We grieve and we pray.  We worship and we try to lend a hand.  What else do we have?

I believe that God gifts us with this grief-intercession in order to bear the burden and lighten the load. Jesus Himself is the "light" yoke (Matthew 11:28)--- and we are His hands, feet, mouth, and His eyes as we cry.

Lord, may my tears to you be an offering---an intercession.  Would You count all our tears as we grieve and would You have mercy and hear our cry?  We know this world is not our home.  We put our trust in You alone.  We believe that You are the God of all comfort; that you, Jesus are a man of sorrows, well acquainted with suffering.  Oh! How this mamma and those children need You right now.  We ask, ...we know..., that you will come alongside and cover.  Just as their daddy once covered... would You be their shield and their rock; their strong tower in the midst of this time of trouble.  

~~To support and carry this family, please consider giving to their go-fund-me account. We can lend a hand and lighten the load, even if only slightly.

Defiant Against a Dark Morning

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There are just those days...  

There are mornings when I wake up and it feels really dark.  ...the sun is shining and the sleep was fine---but, the cob webs are thick in my brain and my heart feels heavy.   A dark cloud hovers.  I just feel very tired.  Sad.  Dark.  Do you ever feel this way?  

This morning I crawled out of bed with a hovering weight and exhaustion...  wishing for more hours in bed.  As I sat down, methodically following my stubborn routine of "God-time first", I opened up to Psalm 25. And, there it was... 

There it was in black and white print---life on a page.  An invitation.  Light to be had.  ...an offering:  

"In you, Lord my God, I put my trust"

On dark and difficult days, I have a choice.  Do I open up and let the light in?  Do I lift my face and speak truth to my soul?  

This morning, as I read these words, I knew there was an invitation.  Trust Me.  

Trust me for your enough again today.  In Me you have all you need.  Trust Me for all you need.  Trust that I am bigger than it all.  

In exhausted surrender, my head fell back into the arm chair, face raised... 

I can only whisper these words today---  You are bigger than it all!  In, You, Lord my God, I put my trust!  

I sat...  for how long, Lord?  I sat and I asked.  I prayed.  I listened.  In You, Lord my God, I put my trust!  

Into my heart began a faint song...  words that rang true and echoed life.  "We are more than conquerors through Christ"   (song here... do have a listen, if you can...such beautiful truth in this song!)  

I found my phone and listened on repeat--- these words becoming my prayer.  

There will be dark days...  we have them.  We all do.  The heavy dark speaks lies to us and makes us feel we are separated from Him in some way.  This is not true!  We are never separated from His love.  Never.  

Seek Him first...  open His word, looking for His heart and His invitation of life and light.  

For, indeed, we are more than conquerors through Christ!  
"In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us!  For I am convinced [that nothing] will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus, our Lord!" (Romans 8:37-39)

Songs of My Heart

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Like a stream of consciousness, the memories come unbidden.

I was simply sitting down to blow dry my wet hair and then in my mind's eye, I am there...  nearly 20 years ago, but I am "seeing" it and feeling it, like it was yesterday.

While in this season of launching my first child, there seems to be this movement in my mind... seemingly random memories coming like a wave.

Different things trigger the memories---a picture, a smell, a song, a comment.  This morning it was music.  As I often do,  I hit play on my "Worship" playlist.  I sat to begin a regular morning routine of makeup and hair.  Within only a few notes, the memory came rushing in...

link for song...  take a listen, if you can

The song begins with ..."It is our confession what we are weak... so very weak!" 

In a moment, I was taken back...  holding, rocking, clutching a baby girl.  We had taken this little one with us across the ocean into a backwater country.  Young and terrified, I stood over her crib, holding her tiny body while her fever screamed at my momma's heart, "Be afraid, be very afraid!"  

It is an intense fear that we feel as we hold our little ones and watch them writhe and struggle against sickness.  It is a deeply intense fear that we all feel when we are out of control... when we can't fix it, we can't make it okay.  

That night long ago, it was this song that I sung over her.  As I held her and prayed, the words seemed to flow out of my soul---a song, a prayer, a confession---

 "It is my confession, Lord, that I am weak---so very weak---but, You are strong!"

It's our confession, Lord that we are weak…So very weak, but You are strong

And though we've nothing, Lord…To lay at Your feet

We come to Your feet and say, "Help us along"

A broken heart and a contrite spirit, You have yet to deny

Your heart of mercy beats with love's strong current.

Let the river flow, God.  By Your Spirit now, Lord we cry

Let your mercies fall from heaven! Sweet mercies flow from heaven!

New mercies for today--Shower them down Lord, as we pray

How long did I rock her and sing this song over her that night?  It feels like I have been singing and rocking this over her for her entire life!

Today, as I writhe and struggle with the feelings of launching her.  As I watch her sadness, her pain, and as I feel my own...  As we truly roller-coaster-ride the ups and downs of this launch:  ...excitement, hope, anticipation, mixed with the high fever of grief, frustration and terror...

As her tears, and mine, scream at us, "Be afraid, be very afraid!",  I am in that selfsame place I was 18 years ago.  

I am holding her, rocking her with my heart, and I am praying these very same words... 

Help us along!  New mercies for today, Lord, shower them down as we pray!  

And, each time I sing this.  Each time I pray...  He holds and He rocks.  He stills.  In these moments, I know He sings over my soul.  Even when I can't hear it, I know He is singing...  He is always singing His song.  

Today, I choose to listen and lean in.  I let Him hold me and rock me.  Today, I say "yes" and hear His words--- Be strong and courageous.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go (Joshua 1:9)

My Enough

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In this season of life sleep is not always a given.  There are many mornings when I feel heavy and exhausted after the restless or sleepless night.  It had become a daily habit of mine to tell the family at the breakfast table how much sleep I had gotten...  "I only got 3 hours of sleep last night" ...longing for those around me to take part, sympathize, and understand.

It was only a few weeks ago that I had the thought... why am I keeping track?  What is the point?  Is it helping me in any way to know?**

Brene Brown in her fabulous books often talks about a 'mentality of scarcity'.  We walk around struggling with the "not enough" feeling all day long.  Scarcity.  I am not enough... or I don't have enough.  Not thin enough.  Not smart enough.  Not tall enough.  Not funny enough.  Not enough time.  Not enough sleep.  Not enough energy.  Not enough fun.  Not enough money.

This 'not enough' mentality--- scarcity--- haunts us and follows us around throughout our days. But, it's a lie.  This way of thinking is absolutely false.

In contrast, we are told that we have "all we need for life and godliness"...  (2 Peter 1:3).  Scripture tells us that God gives us all we need...

It is false to say I don't have enough for life.  No!  In Christ, I truly have all I need!

"The way to slowly die is to believe you live in scarcity---not abundance" ~Ann Voskamp

According to Scripture, when we live in Christ, we live in abundance.  Abundance of grace. Abundance of strength.  Abundance of peace.  Abundance of life and light and truth...

So, I have decided to stop keeping track.

An older friend here told me she read an article that said it is helpful to not look at the clock when you wake up in the middle of the night.  The news article stated that it helps you fall asleep quicker if you don't know... or don't look.  I started there one night.  (and this was quite a discipline)

Now when I am tossing and turning... or wide awake... I just don't look.  I cover my clock with a book!  Why do I need to know?  It only brings trouble to my mind, it never helps.

I just stopped keeping track entirely.  I don't count.  I don't keep track and I don't tell my family how much sleep I got, or didn't get.  I actually don't know!

My goal in the morning, instead, is to swing my feet around, plant them firm on the ground and stand on the truth that I have enough.  For today.  For life and godliness, today, I have all I need.   In this, I can be very thankful for any and all sleep.  Slowly, I am trusting I got exactly what I need.  Jesus is my enough.  He has given me all I need today for life and for godliness...

Today, I had just enough sleep.  If, in fact, I didn't get much; then, He will give me enough energy for what He is calling me to today.  In Him, I have enough.

I speak to my soul...  Trust the Lord, Stephanie.  Trust that He is Your enough.  Trust that in Him you have abundance.  He has given you what you need.  And, indeed, He will give you what you need for today.  



**Of course, it is helpful to keep track of these things when we are struggling to take good care of ourselves.  ...am I giving myself the vegetables I need?  Am I giving my body exercise and healthy care?  Am I going to bed at a beneficial time---allowing for enough sleep?  In these ways, it can be super helpful to know... or keep track.  But, this isn't my problem.  I am taking good care of my body--- heading to bed at a decent hour.  I am just simply not sleeping.  (a very common problem, so I hear, with women 'my age' and older!)  

Sorting and Slowly Saying Goodbye

She is sorting her room.  It's time.  In 12 short weeks, she will pack up and leave this home... beginning the launch into a new world.

Bravely, she has been sorting and purging her things.  Her clothes...  ah!! but, I remember her in that shirt, that dress, that sweater!  

This girl, my sweet girl.  The one who keeps everything... the girl who remembers gifts given to her from 10 years ago.
With courage, she sorts and she purges.

Her art... her crafts...her jewelry... her books...   ah!  I remember those art books and the years of painting with those brushes!   ah!  I remember her devouring that book series.  

Unlike some, we don't have the freedom (or the "illusion" of freedom) to assume we will be in this physical place forever... so she has to pack it all up.  It all needs to be put in a box or a bag... a few things to store for "memory" sake (can Grandma's attic even take any more of our things!?)  ...a few things to fill a dorm room.

Most of her things...  most---we will just give away.  The first load went today.  Dad drove it up to the local charity store and offered these things as a gift.  We lay it down and give it away.  It feels heavy as we carry the boxes of books and label them "free to a good home".  ...in a strange way, the books feel like they have life in them---tied so strongly to a lovely memory of her.  Her childhood in a pile stacked in a box.  ...memories of her snuggled up in bed, reading.

It's a strange journey we walk here on earth.  All of us.  We know, somewhere deep, that this earth is not our home.  We are not long for here.  We know this.  Scripture tells us that walking this sod is only a quick, whispering breath in the scheme of time and Reality.

"Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business, and make a profit.” You do not even know what will happen tomorrow! What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, “If the Lord is willing, we will live and do this or that.” (James 4:13-15)

Our lives are just a mist...  a mist that appears and then vanishes.  

So why does it hurt so much to let these things go?  Why does this pink sweater, this piece of art, that necklace, and these books... why do they tug at my mother's heart and hurt so much.  Why does the box of books feel so very heavy as I lay it down? 

I am pondering and sorting with her, I think.  I am sorting through memories.  Sorting through the truth of these last 18 years...  

I told her today that part of me wants to do it all over again!  She was such a joy to parent.  Like a good, familiar book that you want to snuggle up to read over and over again---I want to 'read' those years just one more time.  

But books are not always for keeping---they mold and gather dust.  The jewelry rusts.  The sweater will fray...  And, the sweater is not her. These things are not full of life.

And, ....and, my girl is not for holding-on-to.   I can't keep her.  She was never mine to begin with...  I must let go.  I must continue to release and surrender.  

Bravely, today I sort and purge with my girl.  I remember and rejoice.  I regret and rehearse.  With courage, I allow the very-now of sadness and grief to come.  I let go and lay down.  I hope and I pray. I trust and I press-in to the One who IS always.  

For, I, too, am launching into a new place...  

What does freedom look like?

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When talking about our fragile bodies, the word "mass" is never a good word. Mass is just a bad, bad word.

When the word mass comes with a measurement of length and depth and is found in your 17 year old daughter's abdomen... well, it is an absolutely sickening, horrid word.

She had been in pain.  We knew that the daily pain had been increasing... with frequency and intensity.  But, you just never expect.  We didn't expect it.

On January 14th, they found a mass in my daughter's upper abdomen.  The ultrasound tech poked, prodded and spent an extra 20 minutes measuring and trying to discern the realities of this mass.   In that beautifully new, pristine white, sterile, cold room, the doctor explained that there was a 3.6 cm x 3.5 cm x 1.5 cm mass.  He showed us the sonogram---there it was, plain as day...even to an untrained eye.   It needed more investigation and he scheduled a CT scan for the following day.

The next 48 hours was a wild mix of emotions.

We were in a different, foreign country.  We had only arrived the day before.  My husband was scheduled to speak at a 400 person conference in Asia on the topic of "Freedom".

Freedom.

For the past three months, as he had been preparing his lessons for the conference, it had become our family mantra, "What does freedom look like in this, Lord?"  ...when my email account is failing, when my friend is in depression, when my unsaved family member is in the hospital, when I spill beetroot juice on my white sweater, when the university decisions for our kids hang in the balance, when we are grieving the upcoming launch of our girl.... In these things, small and large, what does freedom look like?  

In jet-lag, in shock, in someone else's home.  With this news... what did this mean?  What was next? The mantra question just hung there around us, whispering into my soul.

What, Lord, does freedom look like in the midst of this?  

After we sent out an email to let our prayer partners know of the mass... the email responses began to come in.  Our friends, so many of our friends, were standing with us.  Praying, they wrote.  One after another wrote to us and told us, "We are praying!"  Our family, our friends... they were praying for us. These emails were a sweet balm.  As they came into our inbox, we read them together, prayed and felt the comfort of Father's kids worldwide standing in the gap.  Asking.  Pleading. Praying.

Our friends who live in this foreign land---they cooked for us, shuttled us to and from the hospital, prayed with us.  Laughed with us.  Cried for us.

Freedom looked like being the weak ones---the ones in desperate need of prayer and help.  Freedom looked like the comfort of the Body of Christ.  Freedom looked like unhindered asking... His kids knowing God's heart, His power and the possibilities asking on our behalf.  

For those who follow this blog regularly, or know me personally, you will know I am not a big "crier".  I don't cry easily.   I have often said that I have plenty of tears inside, they just don't seem to make their way out of me!  My crying friends  (which tend to be some of my favorite people) know that I envy them.  I tell my free-to-cry friends often what a gift their tears are to me.  If only... If only I could cry like that!

These past months, though, something beautiful has been shifting in me.  I finally asked a free-crying-friend to pray for me.  I asked her to ask the Lord to give me the gift of tears.  He has been answering.  Slowly but surely, I am crying!  ...weeping, in fact, at times.  I rejoice in this health.  I am still not a "crier"...and I don't anticipate that my personality will change... but, I am more free to allow the heavy, hard, tear-filled pain come and have it's way.  I am finding freedom to feel. Freedom to be sad---deeply sad---I am finding freedom to cry.

What, Lord, does freedom look like in the midst of this?

So, with this horrid, terrifying news, I quietly excused myself to the guest room...and I wept.  I wept freely and with faith that He was with me, He was hearing.  Lament in the purest form... I poured out my heart in tears to the Lord.  Pain,    pain,    pain... that was all the words that came with the tears. Just deep pain.

My baby girl.  My darling baby girl.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

Freedom in the Lord looked like pain and tears for me that night.  Freedom looked like feeling. Lament and surrender wrapped up in pain... there was deep freedom.

48 hours of deep pain...  waiting, watching, feeling...

As we waited in the hospital for the next poke, the gross green-colored juice to drink, and the IV... my daughter began to sing a song.  I don't remember what song it was... but it was quiet and it was worship.  It was surrender.  We joined her and sang.  A quiet singing in the busy, bustling hospital room. Freedom looked like surrender.  Freedom looked like worship.

On January 16th, the very same doctor looked at us and shook his head, shrugging his shoulders.  He said he couldn't explain the discrepancy.  The mass was gone.  The CT scan showed a clean, pristine, beautiful abdomen.  No mass.  No problems.  All was "healthy and good" in my girl's abdomen, he said.

It's a miracle!  I said this without really thinking.  It just popped out of my mouth as an exclamation. "We asked Jesus to take it away!" I told him.  He just shrugged his shoulders and smiled.  "There is no mass," he said.

No mass, he said.  These are good, good words.

We walked away with two CDs in our hands:  an ultrasound with a mass and CT scan without a mass.  Walking away with a documented miracle, and deep relief, my daughter and I jumped, danced and cried in the hospital!  Right there in that place, we freely expressed our joy.

Freedom looked like proclamation and witness.  Freedom looked like profession of joy, praise and worship---  Dancing and crying and hugging... looking a bit "mad" I am sure to any on-looker.

As we exited the hospital, aware that we wouldn't be back anytime soon, the phrase came into my heart... He said "yes!"

He said yes...  

I knew that freedom looked like receiving and rejoicing in His "yes" to our asking, our praying, our pleading.  Freedom looked like knowing He sometimes says "no"... but, today, He said yes.   Trusting Him for His answers.  The freedom to ask and to trust His kind, His all-knowing heart...

In this... In this there is freedom.

What Lord does freedom look like in this?  

...freedom looked like being exactly who I am with and in Jesus.  ...Needy and weak.  ...Honest and real.  ...it looked like surrender and worship.  Weeping. lamenting, rejoicing and laughing.  ...freedom looked like asking, hoping, pleading, expecting.  ...freedom looked like receiving and proclaiming.  ...witnessing and trusting.

You Lord, present in the the unknown, the scary, the painful,  the "no" and the "yes".  You, Lord, Present in the lament, the worship and the joy...  You, Lord, are our freedom.  
You are freedom, Jesus.  You.

It is for freedom that I am set free.... (Galatians 5:1)

Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom... (2 Corinthians 3:17)

Rehearse the Truth

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Be careful not to forget, God says.

Do not forget... you are free.  I brought you out of slavery.  You are free!!  (Deuteronomy 6:12)

He tells His kids that He will give them comfy, warm houses with full cupboards.  He knows they will sit in quiet, green pastures. Good food.  Good drink.  Full bellies.  God gives and God also knows.

In that place... in a place of abundance... we must be super careful!  (Deuteronomy 6:10-12)

Be careful not to forget Me. 

How easily I forget.  He knows this of me.  In my comfy home, with my full belly... I can forget. How compassionate and full-knowing He is! He not only knows my forgetful heart; but, He offers a way to remedy the problem. He tells me how not to forget...

He helps our feeble, amnesia-prone hearts.  

Remember, He says.  

Recount.  Rehearse.  Remind.  

And He gives us lovely, practical suggestions as to how to remember!  Love me, He says and talk about Me all the time.  Know my Word and tell others all day, every day, about it. Write it down. Paste it on your walls.  Put it right there in front of your face.  (Deuteronomy 6:4-9)  Talk about it when you get up.  Talk about it when you sit down.  When you walk out and about, talk about Me. (Deuteronomy 11: 18-20)

He understands that we forget.  So...He says, as you go about your day--- your mundane, every day tasks like walking, sitting, eating--- while you go, talk about Me.  Speak the truth.  Tell yourself the truth. Tell yourself and tell others the love-filled, hope-arousing, peace-giving Truth!  

Today, I remember.  I remember what God has done in 2016.  I recount, with my family, what He has done in years past.   I remember His goodness, His salvation, His grace, His gifts of love and sacrifice.

I remember my freedom.  

We will recount.  We will rehearse and remind each other.  

Lord, I will be careful to not forget You!  My faithful, loving, kind Father... today, I remember!  

Comfort Food

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I am a hungry girl.

And, I love my comfort food.  Coffee.  Cakes.  Chips and Chocolate.  You?

I hunger for love and attention.  I hunger to be known.  I hunger for peace and quiet.  And, I hunger for rest.

The ways I have tried (and do try) to feed that hunger are wide ranging and numerous.  My "comfort foods" of choice vary in taste and color...  I attempt to use sleep and television.  I use people and reading good books.  I have also been known to plan and organize, to clean and order life.  I can use (and abuse) chocolate and peanut-butter.  Coffee.  Cakes and Chips.  What do you use?

The hunger in me to be at peace or to be known, heard and filled can be intense at times.  Like a craving that rises up from my gut.  It cries out and needs feeding.

Two days ago I opened God's word to Psalm 93 and read the first line.  "The Lord reigns" (Psalm 93:1).  Upon reading those words, in an instant, my hunger ceased.  In that moment, I sat with the words, trying to take them in.  Mulling, meditating, bathing in the truth of those words.

The Lord reigns. 

The Lord reigns.  

His Word---the Truth of who He is--- a meal for my hungry heart.

Yesterday, I opened the same Psalm.  I read the second line.  "...the Lord is robed in majesty and armed with strength; indeed, the world is established, firm and secure." (Psalm 93:1)

Better than chocolate.  Better than coffee...  better than a good night's sleep or a well ordered cupboard---my heart felt rest.  Even better than the best of friends.

As I mulled and sat with those words---whispering them under my breath.

The Lord is robed in majesty. 

Robed.  Majestic. 

The Lord is armed with strength.

Strong.  

The world is firm and secure.  

Ah, the comfort.  Ah the quiet that Scripture brings my heart.  This all knowing, reigning, strong God knows, sees and fills me.

The comfort food of God's Word never ceases to amaze me.  This hungry girl comes---even for just one short moment---and she is fed.

"I will be fully satisfied as with the richest of foods; 

with singing lips my mouth will praise you." (Psalm 63:5)  

A Mother's Lament

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I sent her off on a jet plane.

She is only going for a few weeks this time---a trial run, really.  Not the real launch.  Not yet.

In one big, true way I can see she is more than ready and it "feels right and good".  And, yet...
And, yet... wasn't it just last week that I was helping her eat, stand and learn to walk.  Wasn't it just yesterday that she was snuggled in or singing and swinging in my yard.

I keep saying it to friends, when they are kind enough to ask--- it feels like I am birthing again. It feels like labor.

Horrible, wonderful, productive, sickening, necessary and painful labor.  When you give birth to a baby, you know that this is "right and good" and you wait and watch in wonder.  It is "as it should be".  But, man---oh---man, does it hurt.  This has been my experience these past months as we ready our family to launch our first daughter.

As she walked away from us at the airport with bounce and confidence... I wanted to feel excitement and joy.  And, I did.  She is ready.  Mixed emotions swirl---joy, pride, peace.  But, what I feel most strongly is deep grief and sadness.  It is so hard to let go.  Tears came unbidden even in the very public airport.  They stream out, with little attention to the "appropriate" time-and-place.

Tears well up even as I type.  How do I do this with You, Lord?  How do I trust more and lean into You alone?  

When a woman gives birth her everything changes.  Scientifically we know that labor and delivery changes a mother's brain, her muscles, her hormones, her skin---it all changes.  Before I was pregnant, my hair was a light, bright blonde.  After birth, my hair quickly grew thicker and darker. All "young" toe-head blonde Stephanie was lost with this babe.

These babies.  These dear ones change everything.

And, now, I find myself in the same state.  Changing.  Watching, waiting, feeling the swirling anticipation and anxiety.  Eighteen years of my life with my heart, soul, and body turned toward her.  ...and now she walks away.  With beautiful, bounding energy, she prances away into the passport line.  It is as it should be.  Right and good.  And, it is deeply painful at the very same time.

I checked my phone yesterday way too many times; obsessed with wanting her "touch" via that whatsapp or messenger.

I close the door to her bedroom, so I don't have to look in to the empty as I pass by.

I struggle for the gumption to make our regular Saturday morning fun-breakfast; as if her not being with us makes it less than.       Ah... the pains of labor.

I read in Ann Voskamp's newest book, "I know a mother's labor and delivery never ends, and you have to keep remembering to breathe" and my soul shouts: Yes, Ann!  Yes! This is exactly what I have been saying these past months.  I will remember to breathe, Lord.  Breath You in---the giver of life, my hope, my strength and my joy.  

Breathe.  Just breathe.

"As long as I have life within me, the breath of God is in my nostrils."  Job 27:3

Watch and wait.
As with labor and delivery, good things are coming in the midst of the pain.
God things are around the corner.

A Strange Song

We received hard news the other day.  My response was raw.

I was deeply sad, confused and angry.  I truly thought that God was saying "yes" to a particular request---and then He said, "No".  I felt like a bewildered and disgruntled child.  I felt duped.  The rug had just been pulled out from under my feet.

Had I heard wrong?  Apparently!

Only last month my mentor asked me, "How do you relate to God in your grief? Do you express it to Him?"  I had found myself dumbfounded with the question--- relating to God in the grief.  In the midst...

So much still to learn.

Ranting through the day, I gave it a go.  This concept of authentic and real interaction with God. With all of me---the real me.  These raw emotions.  Could I simply have them and communicate them honestly to my God? Could I, as David and Jesus did, express those hard emotions directly to my Father, in faith.

"Where are you God?"
"Why have you forsaken me?"
"Will you remain silent forever?"

Like my husband, who gently, gracefully and calmly listened to much of my rantings that day, God seemed quietly sitting with me.  Receiving it, but not responding.  Present.  Solid.  Okay.  God was okay.  His Presence didn't falter.  I didn't feel His wrath at my strong, ugly, raw emotions.  In my anger, I asked. I questioned.  I demanded.  I cried.  It wasn't pretty.

It certainly wasn't the first time---but, it was a significant step for me in being wholly and truly ME with God.  In the midst...  Raw and real with God.

Late in the day, standing at the sink and washing my hands in the warm water, my heart cried out, "Father..."  A cry of "Ugh.."  A deep sigh of frustration escaped my lips.

In that very instant, suddenly came the strangest song...

It was Elvis Presley.  (A caveat here---I simply do NOT always have a song in my head.  Rarely. Very rarely, in fact.  And, I certainly don't have Elvis in my head!  When even was the last time I heard Elvis?!)

In that moment, clear as day, Elvis was singing into my thoughts, "Love me tender, love me true.... for my darlin' I love you and I always will"

There it was---and I knew.  I knew, as surely as I was conscious of the warm water washing my hands, that this was God's heart speaking.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Y-bd3aDMGA

God was asking me, in the most tender way, do you love Me, even so?  

Job 13:15 "Even though He slay me, I will trust Him."  

He was saying, My love for you does not falter or shift.  All I ask in return is love.  Love me with all your heart, with your soul and with your mind.  

Stephanie, love me tender.  Love me sweet.  Never let me go.  Love me tender, love me long.  Take me to your heart---for it is there that I belong and will never part.  

This God.  This amazing Lover that offers Himself and His love to me, over and over.  For always. For keeps.  ...all He asks from me is to remain in that love.  He asks for my love. 

I am not told to understand Him with all my heart, my soul and my mind.  No.  I don't have to understand.  I don't have to agree.  I just must love.  

Yes, Lord, I love you.  I love you tender and sweet.  I am yours.  
All I want for Christmas is You!  

"We love because He first loved us" (1 John 4:19)

Do Not Despise His Word

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Take a load off.  Sit for a while.  Rest... 

Sabbath is really, really important to God.  Plain and simple.  He makes no bones about it.  His commandment of Sabbath is uber-important.  Reading through the Old Testament, it would be hard to miss this clear theme.

I was struck again with this idea when reading in Numbers 15.  Throughout the Old Testament, God offers, over and over, a 'way out' or an avenue for forgiveness from sin.  In this chapter, He enunciates the pathway for recovery and forgiveness for unintentional sin.  And, then, BAM... right in the middle of the passage, we read about the "Sabbath-Breaker" who is to be put out of the camp and stoned to death.  No restitution is offered.  There was no-way back from THIS sin.  What, Lord!?  

Sabbath is clearly really, really important to God.  I wouldn't even attempt to count how often He reiterates this truth in the Old Testament; but, indeed, He does again, and again.  

In Numbers 15, we are given clarity as to why this Sabbath-breaker is punished.  His sin was deliberate, Scripture tells us.  Rebellious.  He had contempt for God's commands.  "He has despised the word of the Lord." (Numbers 15:31)

But what was he actually rebelling against?  What was He despising exactly?  What was offensive to him... this condemned man?  A day-off!?  For Sabbath is a day of rest.  No work.  A day for worship. Quiet.  Why in the world would he (or we) rebel against that?  

(Now, let me just pause here and make very clear that I believe, as a child of God and one covered by the blood of Jesus, I am no longer under the law.  I know and believe that Christ died for intentional and unintentional sin!  And His blood covers all rebellion, curses, iniquity, and transgressions... and every thing in between.  ...just in case you were worried.   But, that doesn't lessen the reality of God's heart and character being the same today, yesterday and tomorrow. So, I also believe, this conversation is immensely important.)

So, why in the world would this man rebel against rest, quiet and no work?  

Or, more poignantly, what do I resist or despise the gift of Sabbath?  

Ezekiel 20:12 says, "I gave (a gift!) them my Sabbath (note whose it is) as a sign between me and them that they might know I am the Lord (note the why behind the giving) who sanctifies them." 

In Mark 2:27 Jesus reiterates this theme that Sabbath is for men--- a gift.  Made and given for us... for our benefit.  Not a legal law to remain under, but instead a gift to receive.  Or not.  

When reading and sitting with this idea, I was struck by the end of the Ezekiel verse--- I am the Lord who sanctifies them. I looked up the word sanctify and found this definition:  "the state of proper functioning".  In the Webster definition it adds, for clarity sake, "a pen is sanctified when it is used to write"

I wrote down in my journal:  "pens are sanctified when writing.  People are sanctified when used for the purpose God intends---living according to His design. People are sanctified when living with God."  Sabbath is part of our proper functioning as human beings.  Part of our very purpose here on earth is to rest, worship, and enjoy God!  It is what we are made for.  

When I don't live in the rhythm of Sabbath rest, I am living in an unnatural way.  A rebellious way.  It is anti-human to work non-stop.  Sabbath is clearly very important gift from God to man.  

Do I despise it?  Fight it?  And, if so, why?  

Just sit for a while and enter His rest.  

A Long Journey

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Life is a long, long journey.

Like destinations, there are many lessons that I wish I could just check off my list... and say I "have learned" this!  Been there.  Done that.

While certainly there have been lessons learned; I seem to circle back to 'same-old' places over and over again.

But, the one lesson that seems to be a reoccurring and reoccurring theme in my life is the lesson of "loved". I have both known it and not known it for many, many years.  For, "knowing" and surrendering-to-it are two very different things.

When I began this blog 8 years ago this very theme is clear in much of my writing---I wrote on my "Why Koodaigirl" page:  "I desire to live as loved".  This is still my same desire; and it only grows stronger, deeper, and more profound.  More hungry.

In the journey, though, along with the difficulties and struggles, we also have moments of great victory.  I have been seeing this victory lately in my life.  I can't really say when it began exactly; before time, it feels.  For God has been speaking to me of His love my whole Christian life.  All I really remember from my salvation day (at age 15) was a message about love.  I don't know what else Larry said that day... but, he said something very significant about the love of God.  That day I walked through the door of "loved" and have been journeying inward ever since.

These last months something significant has shifted.  I not only deeply believe, with all my mind, that God loves me (a profound gift He gave me about 10 years back); I now feel His love "poured out in my heart" (Romans 5:5) on a very regular basis.  Where I have felt it here and there for years, I am "knowing" this abiding love.  I am experiencing His love filling me.  This is no small miracle.  My physical healing 15 years ago was "nothing" in comparison to this battle won!

This knowing of God's love... to my mind AND to my heart is a great gift.  A gift I believe He wants to give all His children.

I have to admit it took many pleas from my wooing Lord.  He has used songs multiple time (the funniest was the 80's classic, "I can't make you love me.")  He has used dreams, people, gifts, blessings, and suffering.  And, He has many, many times used His Word.  "Do not harden your heart" was the most recent Biblical phrase that led me to repent of my hardening to His love and His rest---it led me to lean-in and open my hands.  (Why I harden my heart is another conversation to be shared another time!)

After spending the day with Him yesterday and enjoying this love---sitting with it, working with it, eating with it--- I lay in bed last night and had a memory flood into my mind.  It was of our first trip to visit Wales 7 years ago.  When I walked into the house we currently live in there was a sign:  "Loved".  Like a message from His Spirit to my soul, I knew then that it was for me.  He was, yet again, speaking love over me.

So, last night after seeing this memory, I said to the Lord, "Wow!  It has taken 7 years for me to be won over to this amazing love! Wow...You have had to work for me for 7 years like Jacob, Lord!"  

Instantly, I heard in my spirit, something akin to "Longer..."  

Longer, Stephanie.  

Yes, Lord, much longer.  Like Rachel.  I am Your Rachel!!  You worked for over 14 years for me to accept and receive Your love.  

I fell asleep relishing in the fact that I am Jesus' Rachel.  What a blessed thought.

In the morning, I woke remembering it with a smile.  I am the Lord's Rachel.  His bride.   His beloved.

But, even as I write this... right now...the word I heard last night still lingers and speaks.  Longer...  

I have worked longer for you...

"For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight... in love..." (Ephesians 1:4)

A very, very long journey for God indeed.

Another very significant song in this journey for me...  Video... a must listen.  :  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=azBAF3dObps  *the whole album is awesome, by the way!!  

"I pray that being grounded and rooted in love, you might have the power, with all God's people, to grasp how high, wide, long and deep is the love of Christ and to know that love that surpasses knowledge..."  (Ephesians 3:18)

Over Me

I took this photo a few weeks ago.  I know it is horrible quality.  That is what you get when A) You are me taking most pictures and B)When the picture is taken with movement, low light, and on a cell phone...  but,  I couldn't help myself.

I just had to post it--- because, this picture has been beautifully hovering around my prayers lately.   And, not just the picture... but the true, real, beautiful moment that this poor picture captured.  This tender wedding scene, which I was privileged to witness, has been informing my walk with God.

As the music played gently, this groom danced slowly with his new bride.  He and she were utterly enraptured.  They danced this way through most of the song.  ...this sight speaks of deeper things.

Look at the picture again and imagine the scene.  Then look at the picture with THIS verse in mind...  "As the groom rejoices over his bride, so shall your God rejoice over you" Isaiah 62:5.

So shall God rejoice over you...  

I will sit with this amazing truth for another quiet moment.  I will take a minute to breathe-in this reality again today.  How does God view me?  His church?  ...you?

So shall God rejoice over you!

Claws and Horns

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When God created Adam and Eve, He made them naked.  Utterly and completely naked.

I have been thinking of this today as I ponder and I think about my pride.

Pride can take on so many forms---some more detectable than others.  We all see, hear, and notice the gregarious boaster or the person who is verbally desperate to take credit; that type of pride is shown forth clearly and tastes awful to most onlookers.  But, what about the pride that is a still-small-voice of judgement in our hearts towards others.  "They really should do this..."..."That is so wrong"...."She is so immature"... "I can't believe he said that"... This pride is deep and insidious; causing shame within and without.  This quiet pride of self-righteousness--- the assumption that I am "above" or "beyond" or "separate" from you....  What about this pride?

Father, have mercy.  

Or the kind of pride that is self-indulgent and self-obsessed.  Sometimes masking itself as insecurity or even "humility", this pride leave self as center.  Physical self, spiritual self... either way "self" becomes primary.  We just can't help but think of ourselves---our comfort, our health, our wholeness, and our security.  This pride also gets labeled as "not thinking ever about myself"...because we are "constantly thinking of others".  But, in reality, we are most deeply thinking of ourselves.  For if our children are happy, then we will be happy.  If our co-workers are happy, then they will like me and I will be okay---  All this "service" of others can indeed only be, deeply, about ME.

Father, have mercy.  

Or, the pride that insists (usually internally) on "my" rights.  We might like to call it justice or righteous anger.  But, who, really are we defending?

Father, have mercy on me.  

And then there is the pride that desperately seeks to place blame elsewhere.  Anyone but me!  This pride is desperate to shine the damning light on someone else---anyone else.

I have been thinking about our nakedness:  Human nakedness.  It has struck me that God did not create humans like he created most every other creature--- he gave us no thick skin, no warm coat, no horns, no hoofs or claws, no poison or venom.  We were not given any armor.  God gave us no physical defenses.  We are a deeply dependent and needy beings.   We are vulnerable.  We were, on purpose, created naked.

But, let's be honest...  we really, really don't like this about ourselves!  We have tried from day-go to cover ourselves.  Once our eyes were opened to evil, in fact, we ran and hid and began pointing our fingers "to her" or "him" or "it".  Let me tell you, God, why it isn't MY fault!  Ah... the naked was now shameful.  Shame is such a painful reality of our now-nakedness.

We create our defenses: our armor and claws---of all sorts and colors.  One of our favorite weapons against this shame is pride; for pride is a nice thick shell.  It yells and screams out to the world "I am okay" and "Don't mess with me!" "I have no needs".   Pride...our covering---our claws and horns.

But, indeed, that is not true.  God created us, you and me, naked.  Naked and unashamed is God's heart for us.  For, He alone is to be our shield, our fortress, our strong rock and our substance. God alone is my defense!

Father God, have mercy on me.

Can't Quite Reach It

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There have been many thoughts and lessons from Leviticus lately.  I continue to find myself amazed at God's kindness in His Word and His revelation of Himself.  How often, though, have I also found myself utterly confused in this book?  Sitting with the confusion, turning not away from God in doubt or frustration, but turning toward Him to engage with Him, has been the key to this journey.

A wonderful thought:  don't turn away from God and wonder.  Just turn toward Him and wonder. Stay curious.  Why I don't do this more often in all of life?  Maybe I will now...

It makes sense, right?  If my husband's words or actions confuse me it is best ask him directly about it... not to "make it up as I go" and try to figure him out.  Instead, I can just ask him, "I am confused.  Why did you say that?  I don't quite understand you. Can you say it another way?"  Or, "Tell me more about how you think about this/or that?"  My husband's reply will give me another clue in understanding him, his words and his actions.  

So, why not go right to the source?

Why, Lord, do you say that a baby calf and it's mother cannot be killed on the same day?  What is your heart here?  Why do you one minute command your people to stone the man who blasphemed your Name... and then the very next verse you tell them not to take the life of a human?  I don't get it. What is Your heart here?  Would You tell me more?  

The discussions have been far, wide and deep.  There are possible questions and dialogue within every verse!  Often I don't get an answer; or not exactly.  Instead I might have a thought, another verse, or a clue to more of Him.  And, sometimes, I get "nothing" (or what I perceive as nothing).  I had total silence for days on the calf and cow question!  (smile)  But, that is okay, too.  If my husband can continue to remain a mystery to me after 23 years of marriage---certainly God can and will!!  

Recently, there has been a lesson lingering that I just haven't been able to grasp;  like a floating "answer" or knowledge that is just out of my reach.  With clues and words and sitting for days waiting, I have been asking Him about holiness (in all it's Levitical appearances).  And, the answer to the why and what and tell me more behind all this holiness seems to be dancing right on the edge of my consciousness. I believe God has been whispering, but I can't quite hear Him and can't quite understand what He is saying...  

Until this morning... When I picked up another book.  

What a gift the community of God is to us!  We need each other.  This morning, my brother Larry Crabb's written words reached out and grabbed the lesson that God had been whispering all week to me.  His words in 66 Love Letters were an invaluable help to me this morning.  

This beautiful book is Dr. Crabb's journaling his own journey through Scripture; one book at at time.  Wanting my own, unique journey with the Father, I had decided not to read Dr. Crabb's journal until I finished mine.  I read and finish the book of the Bible, then I read Crabb's journey through that book---my modus operandi for this adventure. 

Crabb's words and insight were like a long arm reaching out to grasp that which God has been saying to me for days.  

It's not for this blog post to write here what God has spoken to my heart. What I will say is this...  I am hungry for more!!  I cannot get enough of God's Word and engaging with Him about His thoughts, His heart and His Self.  

What I do feel compelled to say here is this...  Keep asking Him.  Keep reading.   Give it time and sit with it.  Don't leave the conversation too soon.  Keep wrestling.  And, involve the community you have--- your friends, your spouse, your kids.  Read other good books.  And, keep asking.  He is ever ready to show more of Himself to you!  

Surprised by Joy

photo source

I love it when God's Word surprises me.   It doesn't matter how many times I read it, or how much "theology" I have studied or adhere to...  God's Word often catches me off guard.  It has happened to me so many times these past weeks as I have been reading through Leviticus.  But, one instance in particular, has stuck with me.

The people have been given instructions on how to draw near to God through sacrifice.  They painstakingly follow all the law, to-a-T.  Moses notes again and again, "they did everything the Lord commanded".   They are truly acting as an obedient and faithful bunch these Israelites, right?!  (I think it is really interesting that we miss this truth when we talk about how lame and unfaithful the Israelites are... aren't we all just such a mixed bag!)

Anyway...  they have been obedient and have followed the path God has set up for them.  In response to these acts of sacrifice, "fire came out of the Presence of the Lord" (Leviticus 9:24).  Stop for a minute and just imagine this in real life.  We have seen enough CGI to work our imaginations around fire coming out and consuming the offering.  Loud, Hot, Red, Fast, ...terrifying, right?

But,... the people are not scared.  They are not filled with fear.  This surprised me.

In Exodus 20:18, only moments ago in the narrative, God speaks to the people from the mountain. They hear His voice as thunder and they are terrified and afraid.  They ask that He never do that again! They remain at a distance and say, "Don't have God speak to us or we will die!" (v. 19)

But, not here.  Why?

No, the people's response to this hot-burning-up-consuming-fire of the Lord is joy.  Joy fills their hearts!  Surprised by joy...

I was surprised by joy.

They see the fire and they are filled with joy and they fall down to worship.  I can't help but think that the joy welling in their hearts--- which brought them face down ---brought a wonderfully delightful smile to God's face.

I don't think He was surprised by it---that is what He made for us.  Fullness of joy in His Presence... No, God isn't surprised.

I can just picture it... seeing Him in my mind's eye:  God smiling; pleased and blessed.  They are worshiping Him rightly (if just this once) and they are responding to His presence with joy and awe. For weeks this passage has spoken to me of the Father's heart.  What He might really want from my sacrifices, my worship, and my drawing near to His Presence:  Awe-filled wonder and joy!

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him..."  (Romans 15:13)