So many days, I wondered when
the season would change and then it did.
It's sudden arrival was such a shock
a day at the park meant shoes and sock?
The hot summer temps of what was here
quickly slipped when Fall appeared.
Breezy day ushering cooler air
becomes the thing of blanket affair.
Campfires, friends, sweaters and such
comes when leaves depart their clutch.
Winter is near of this I'm sure
but who can resist Fall's allure?
Clothes needed for seasons of two
last year hanging like something new.
Lingering in sweet fall time
is this tasty change divine.
So I savor the time I have it,
because change is the season's habit.
Written by
Tammy
This was shared at "One Stop Poetry", so click over and share yours or for your viewing pleasure, read the ones already there.
what's invisible is visible in all of creation and this is where I speak of the supernatural among the natural. (Psalm 19:1-4, Colossians 1:15-16, Romans 1:20)
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Gethsemane's Invitation Of Purpose
My purpose has little to do with my outward actions. They only follow what I've purposed in my heart.
This weekend a visual image came to mind from the Garden of Gethsemane.
It'd been a long day and the Disciples were tired. Too weary to keep any watchful eyes open, they succumbed to weary bodies and slept. Little did they know the hour was soon to come or surely they wouldn't have been able to sleep. Separation from their beloved Christ was near!
In writing this post, I was reminded of the first garden of separation started on a tree by a relationship broken by sin. And now in Gethsemane, the fruit of Promise was soon to hang from a tree. Two gardens connected by sin, one entered death by the first Adam, the other resurrects Life from death.
God in the flesh poured sorrowful tears in a darkened eden of Gethsemane. Were those first garden fruits also watered with tears?
So it was this weekend in prayer, I pictured Gethsemane's invitation. The visual, I won't describe in detail, but went something like this: I was standing there with the others as Jesus, with outstretched arm, stood looking at us, me, with an unspoken: watch and pray. I sensed it wasn't as much about His need for my prayers as much as it was about my need to enter it. The need to look suffering in the eye and share in it. It was more for my good than it was for His own good.
Caring for, supplying, and tending to someone's need and distress isn't just about how to give but also how there is a gift in sharing the burden of it. There's opportunity when I'm watchfully awake to see it.
Like Elisha and the widow's jar of oil, miraculous provision set her free. When I pour at His prompting, His provision blesses my emptied jars. All I need for living is in supply. It's what truly sets me free and makes me full.
It's in the gathering, the working by His word and the pouring out of trusting His word, does increase have opportunity to fill. I don't want to slumber and miss sharing with Christ the blessing of being Hands, Feet, Heart to those around me. Too much stuff gets in way of heart.
My purpose is to be the emptied vessel with room for Supply's increase.
Elisha said: “'Go, borrow vessels from everywhere, from all your neighbors—empty vessels; do not gather just a few. 4 And when you have come in, you shall shut the door behind you and your sons; then pour it into all those vessels, and set aside the full ones.' So she went from him and shut the door behind her and her sons, who brought the vessels to her; and she poured it out. Now it came to pass, when the vessels were full, that she said to her son, 'Bring me another vessel.' And he said to her, 'There is not another vessel.' So the oil ceased. Then she came and told the man of God. And he said, 'Go, sell the oil and pay your debt; and you and your sons live on the rest.'” 2 Kings 4:3-7
Join me and others tomorrow in "God's Purpose for me" in "Jam With Me Thursdays" at Faith Barista.
This weekend a visual image came to mind from the Garden of Gethsemane.
It'd been a long day and the Disciples were tired. Too weary to keep any watchful eyes open, they succumbed to weary bodies and slept. Little did they know the hour was soon to come or surely they wouldn't have been able to sleep. Separation from their beloved Christ was near!
In writing this post, I was reminded of the first garden of separation started on a tree by a relationship broken by sin. And now in Gethsemane, the fruit of Promise was soon to hang from a tree. Two gardens connected by sin, one entered death by the first Adam, the other resurrects Life from death.
God in the flesh poured sorrowful tears in a darkened eden of Gethsemane. Were those first garden fruits also watered with tears?
So it was this weekend in prayer, I pictured Gethsemane's invitation. The visual, I won't describe in detail, but went something like this: I was standing there with the others as Jesus, with outstretched arm, stood looking at us, me, with an unspoken: watch and pray. I sensed it wasn't as much about His need for my prayers as much as it was about my need to enter it. The need to look suffering in the eye and share in it. It was more for my good than it was for His own good.
Caring for, supplying, and tending to someone's need and distress isn't just about how to give but also how there is a gift in sharing the burden of it. There's opportunity when I'm watchfully awake to see it.
Like Elisha and the widow's jar of oil, miraculous provision set her free. When I pour at His prompting, His provision blesses my emptied jars. All I need for living is in supply. It's what truly sets me free and makes me full.
It's in the gathering, the working by His word and the pouring out of trusting His word, does increase have opportunity to fill. I don't want to slumber and miss sharing with Christ the blessing of being Hands, Feet, Heart to those around me. Too much stuff gets in way of heart.
My purpose is to be the emptied vessel with room for Supply's increase.
Elisha said: “'Go, borrow vessels from everywhere, from all your neighbors—empty vessels; do not gather just a few. 4 And when you have come in, you shall shut the door behind you and your sons; then pour it into all those vessels, and set aside the full ones.' So she went from him and shut the door behind her and her sons, who brought the vessels to her; and she poured it out. Now it came to pass, when the vessels were full, that she said to her son, 'Bring me another vessel.' And he said to her, 'There is not another vessel.' So the oil ceased. Then she came and told the man of God. And he said, 'Go, sell the oil and pay your debt; and you and your sons live on the rest.'” 2 Kings 4:3-7
Join me and others tomorrow in "God's Purpose for me" in "Jam With Me Thursdays" at Faith Barista.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Glory Days--And I "Striving" For It
There is a wonder that hovers over earth like a huge crayola or big, fat marker. He brightly streaks colors for all to see and we know. I, watching, only want to mingle with the Spirit who saw it all created. My soul is cloudy with flesh and sin. I strive to be, to do, to become. Why don't I strive to rest too? Why don't I let my heart go down with Son? 
In all my boisterous ways, I want a quiet spirit. But my head clutters and clamors, of things, thoughts, words. I need a Like the glory of an evening sky, His shines in a shimmer at day's golden end. Of the many gonging thoughts that scamper in my head--He made me. He knows my things because He stitched every little string of DNA to make me, me. So the other dangling thought is--
how can we (He and I) make me better? To live His glory like the evening sky?
"We all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory.." 2 Corinthians 3:18
I shared this on Emily's "Chatting At the Sky" just click on her name to read more or to add yours. This Tuesday, I'm unwrapping--change. I'm listening with my soul and hoping that the fear of failure doesn't keep me from making it or from getting out of the boat.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Brokenness--When We Are Shredded for Growth
Whatever brings us to a grinding state of brokenness is also the very place that breaks up fallowed grounds. Perhaps it's our eyes seeing clearly the damage so blindly hidden behind sin or the soul-starved poverty of us walking around in our ram shackled skin, or the intimacy of Christ plunging the depths of Love straight through us.
Brokenness turns the dirt of our hearts and painfully penetrates the hardened soil of souls. There's a tearing and pulling away from firm surface which becomes soft with each tug of the plow.
In the breaking is a place fertile for planting.
Our brokenness tenderizes us to receive the small seedling that needs to be buried deep inside our fresh upturned hearts. A ready cocoon for nurturing where busting open is the birth of sprouting.
This weekend, I was reminded of how small and broken my little hands are. How could I do anything to touch the poverty, soul-starved brokenness of these? So in a way I grieved like so many others, Here, and Here, and Here and many more.
This past Sunday I heard John Alan Turner say something like this (paraphrased): "Knowing they (the Disciples) aren't able to feed the multitudes, yet stretching their faith Jesus says, feed the people. They only have a little fish and bread and that's it. This is all the food there is. Far from enough. So Jesus tells them to bring what little they have, then He breaks and blesses it and gives it back to them. As the meager portions are handed out, He multiplies them in the distribution. And like the same, Jesus asks us what meager smallness do we have to offer? What little portions? Do we trust Him to do something or anything that'll be enough from our little offering? Jesus says, bring me what you have so I can break and bless it, give it back into your hands as you become part of My multiplication." (Mathew 14:13-21). No matter how little, within our hands are miraculous possibilities.
With all these in mind, I had a conversation over the weekend. This was only in my heart with God but it would've looked something like this:
Me: "I don't want to ever forget or move from this brokenness. I want to remember."
Him: "My joy comes in the morning."
Me: "What?"
Him: "Arise. There's a time for grieving but My joy comes in the morning."
Me: "But how?"
Him: "Praise Me."
Me: "But I don't want to ever be the same, to go back. What of this brokenness, what of it?
Him: "It served a purpose to break your heart so I can finally plant this seed in it."
Me: "What kind of seed is it?"
Him: "You'll have to wait and watch the plant grow."
Brokenness is more than breaking. It is sowing.
"Sow for yourselves righteousness; reap in mercy; break up your fallow ground...." Hosea 10:12
I'll be sharing this on Tuesday at Bridget Chumbley's "Word Carnival" and this one is aptly: Brokenness. Timely, I might say. Plus, don't miss John Alan Turner's sequel, "How to Walk On Water" . Yep, you're the Peter, now walk. PHOTO: courtesy of photobucket.com
In the breaking is a place fertile for planting.
Our brokenness tenderizes us to receive the small seedling that needs to be buried deep inside our fresh upturned hearts. A ready cocoon for nurturing where busting open is the birth of sprouting.
This weekend, I was reminded of how small and broken my little hands are. How could I do anything to touch the poverty, soul-starved brokenness of these? So in a way I grieved like so many others, Here, and Here, and Here and many more.
This past Sunday I heard John Alan Turner say something like this (paraphrased): "Knowing they (the Disciples) aren't able to feed the multitudes, yet stretching their faith Jesus says, feed the people. They only have a little fish and bread and that's it. This is all the food there is. Far from enough. So Jesus tells them to bring what little they have, then He breaks and blesses it and gives it back to them. As the meager portions are handed out, He multiplies them in the distribution. And like the same, Jesus asks us what meager smallness do we have to offer? What little portions? Do we trust Him to do something or anything that'll be enough from our little offering? Jesus says, bring me what you have so I can break and bless it, give it back into your hands as you become part of My multiplication." (Mathew 14:13-21). No matter how little, within our hands are miraculous possibilities.
With all these in mind, I had a conversation over the weekend. This was only in my heart with God but it would've looked something like this:
Me: "I don't want to ever forget or move from this brokenness. I want to remember."
Him: "My joy comes in the morning."
Me: "What?"
Him: "Arise. There's a time for grieving but My joy comes in the morning."
Me: "But how?"
Him: "Praise Me."
Me: "But I don't want to ever be the same, to go back. What of this brokenness, what of it?
Him: "It served a purpose to break your heart so I can finally plant this seed in it."
Me: "What kind of seed is it?"
Him: "You'll have to wait and watch the plant grow."
Brokenness is more than breaking. It is sowing.
"Sow for yourselves righteousness; reap in mercy; break up your fallow ground...." Hosea 10:12
I'll be sharing this on Tuesday at Bridget Chumbley's "Word Carnival" and this one is aptly: Brokenness. Timely, I might say. Plus, don't miss John Alan Turner's sequel, "How to Walk On Water" . Yep, you're the Peter, now walk. PHOTO: courtesy of photobucket.com
Thursday, September 16, 2010
One Crying In The Wilderness--When Poverty Hurts
"“ The voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the LORD, Make His paths straight.’” Mark 1:3
She's seen their faces. How can she ever go back to this western world of stuff and religion? The former abode of what seemed a simple life now lay waste in the heaps of Guatemala. The weight presses in and crushes one lone voice. How can just one do good? Can one good supply desperate need? We too are one. Each one a singular voice but collectively an increase of one.
Ann who traveled to where poverty hurts, writes: "I don’t know really how to come back to this space. What to write about, what to say, what doesn’t sound flippant, indifferent… negligent."
There is a hunger for more and how do we feed it? To where do we go to settle the bile of our souls? We are only one crying out in a worldly wilderness. But it was one, John, who came to herald the One who came and handed His Life for us.
"..Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Luke 12:34
My heart holds the measure of my treasure and it's value is a matter of location. There's a poverty more depraved than ram shackled buildings and it's a black hole that sucks the soul to bankruptcy. I can become mortgaged to comfort and ease where convenience and technology hinder instead of enhancing.
"“If there is among you a poor man of your brethren, within any of the gates in your land which the LORD your God is giving you, you shall not harden your heart ..." Deuteronomy 15:7 and 8
The thing with hunger, ram shackled homes, absent monetary income, and thirst for water, is it cries out for attention. We can't ignore the gnawing hunger pains or the parched dryness but how do we recognize silent soul needs? The ones hidden behind fresh faces, tidy houses, "Everything is good. How 'bout you?" greetings, church attendances, or in our heated and cooled spaces where need is stuffed into pleasantries. Where's the 'need' in our 'rich' little worlds and to where do we start? Although we think we're rich, our souls are bloated with Holy starvation.
"Because you say, ‘I am rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing’—and do not know that you are wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked— I counsel you to buy from Me gold refined in the fire, that you may be rich..." Revelations 3:17 and 18
If our poverty-stricken souls limp through life then we miss the richness of Him. Our souls need to drink the communion of Christ, emptying our hearts of earthly treasure to allow the full measure of Him.
It only takes one. Not to save the world, because One already did that. It takes you. Not having to board a big jet to fly far away but to soar right where you are. It's one, need at a time. It's one step in time--each one step building a trail, a journey of many ones put together. It's meeting the One in Christ who longs to meet each one of you.
"For the poor will never cease from the land; therefore I command you, saying, ‘You shall open your hand wide to your brother, to your poor and your needy, in your land.’" Deut 15:11 Your hands are needed there too.
Although I still tend to the 'least of these' from my Eve womb, cared for the 'least of these' in a widowed ailing Grandmother and committed long-term to supporting the 'least of these' in a seemingly small Compassionate act to one named Mahlet, the world competes for my greatest poverty. Enemy's lie bankrupts the soul by furnishing it with things--nice things on the surface. They can crowd and cramp but don't satiate my starved need.
So we start with one seemingly small, insignificant You. But it's you alone He wants. Not parts or pieces, but all gloriously, wretched You. It takes each individual one to be filled by the One and washing away the world by the washing of His Word in You. It's the cleansing of worldly spot, that undefiled baptism, that also is pure religion. "Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." James 1:27
It only took One on the cross. If nothing else, start there.
For more journeys at Ann's place on how to help the 'least of these' click here at "WalkWith Him Wednesdays". And also, Sara, many thanks for your post. Yes, Lord, blur my vision, even blind me with your Love. Please click over to her place and read more from a misionary who's back to a life in America.
She's seen their faces. How can she ever go back to this western world of stuff and religion? The former abode of what seemed a simple life now lay waste in the heaps of Guatemala. The weight presses in and crushes one lone voice. How can just one do good? Can one good supply desperate need? We too are one. Each one a singular voice but collectively an increase of one.
Ann who traveled to where poverty hurts, writes: "I don’t know really how to come back to this space. What to write about, what to say, what doesn’t sound flippant, indifferent… negligent."
There is a hunger for more and how do we feed it? To where do we go to settle the bile of our souls? We are only one crying out in a worldly wilderness. But it was one, John, who came to herald the One who came and handed His Life for us.
"..Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Luke 12:34
My heart holds the measure of my treasure and it's value is a matter of location. There's a poverty more depraved than ram shackled buildings and it's a black hole that sucks the soul to bankruptcy. I can become mortgaged to comfort and ease where convenience and technology hinder instead of enhancing.
"“If there is among you a poor man of your brethren, within any of the gates in your land which the LORD your God is giving you, you shall not harden your heart ..." Deuteronomy 15:7 and 8
The thing with hunger, ram shackled homes, absent monetary income, and thirst for water, is it cries out for attention. We can't ignore the gnawing hunger pains or the parched dryness but how do we recognize silent soul needs? The ones hidden behind fresh faces, tidy houses, "Everything is good. How 'bout you?" greetings, church attendances, or in our heated and cooled spaces where need is stuffed into pleasantries. Where's the 'need' in our 'rich' little worlds and to where do we start? Although we think we're rich, our souls are bloated with Holy starvation.
"Because you say, ‘I am rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing’—and do not know that you are wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked— I counsel you to buy from Me gold refined in the fire, that you may be rich..." Revelations 3:17 and 18
If our poverty-stricken souls limp through life then we miss the richness of Him. Our souls need to drink the communion of Christ, emptying our hearts of earthly treasure to allow the full measure of Him.
It only takes one. Not to save the world, because One already did that. It takes you. Not having to board a big jet to fly far away but to soar right where you are. It's one, need at a time. It's one step in time--each one step building a trail, a journey of many ones put together. It's meeting the One in Christ who longs to meet each one of you.
"For the poor will never cease from the land; therefore I command you, saying, ‘You shall open your hand wide to your brother, to your poor and your needy, in your land.’" Deut 15:11 Your hands are needed there too.
Although I still tend to the 'least of these' from my Eve womb, cared for the 'least of these' in a widowed ailing Grandmother and committed long-term to supporting the 'least of these' in a seemingly small Compassionate act to one named Mahlet, the world competes for my greatest poverty. Enemy's lie bankrupts the soul by furnishing it with things--nice things on the surface. They can crowd and cramp but don't satiate my starved need.
So we start with one seemingly small, insignificant You. But it's you alone He wants. Not parts or pieces, but all gloriously, wretched You. It takes each individual one to be filled by the One and washing away the world by the washing of His Word in You. It's the cleansing of worldly spot, that undefiled baptism, that also is pure religion. "Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." James 1:27
It only took One on the cross. If nothing else, start there.
For more journeys at Ann's place on how to help the 'least of these' click here at "WalkWith Him Wednesdays". And also, Sara, many thanks for your post. Yes, Lord, blur my vision, even blind me with your Love. Please click over to her place and read more from a misionary who's back to a life in America.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Feast of Tabernacles (also "Sukkot", "Booths")--Grafted by Grace & Camping Out Here
"By faith he (Abraham) dwelt in the land of promise as in a foreign country, dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob, the heirs with him of the same promise; for he waited for the city which has foundations, whose builder and maker is God." Hebrews 11:9 and 10
"But Christ came as High Priest of the good things to come, with the greater and more perfect tabernacle not made with hands, that is, not of this creation. Not with the blood of goats and calves, but with His own blood He entered the Most Holy Place once for all, having obtained eternal redemption." Hebrews 9:11-12
"For we know that if our earthly house, this tent, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed with our habitation which is from heaven, if indeed, having been clothed, we shall not be found naked. For we who are in this tent groan, being burdened, not because we want to be unclothed, but further clothed, that mortality may be swallowed up by life. Now He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who also has given us the Spirit as a guarantee." 2 Corinthians 5:1-5
I'm a novice when it comes to Jewish holidays. Ignorant of detailed customs and traditions, I'm only distantly familiar with them in name only. But this year they've been popping off pages of scripture and inundating me through various outlets. This week its been the "Feast of Tabernacle". Also known as "Feast of Sukkot", "Booths" or "Ingathering".
Essentially it boils down to tents and harvest.
Essentially it boils down to tents and harvest.
This past weekend was spent in a primitive tent. It'd been at least 12 years since I last stayed overnight in one. So when I returned home and first read about this "Feast of Tabernacles" I was all ears.
Already stirred by my tenting experience, my small library offered some books on traditions such as "Feast of Tabernacles" and such. Slipping one of these books to my bedroom for a longer read, I also discovered Yom Kippur, "Day Of Atonement" which begins on the 10th day of Tishri (Jewish calendar) That'd be around September 18th, 2010 (this year) for us laymen-type folks. The "Feast of Sukkot", "Tabernacle", "Booth" or whichever chosen title, begins 5 days after Yom Kippur.
This somber time of atonement, Yom Kippur, is also a reminder of sin being washed white as snow. Hence wearing white on this day symbolizes that cleansing. For those who believe: Our Yom Kippur was sacrificed once for all in Jesus and resurrected like Issac on the altar of Abraham.
If we've received the ram of Christ's sacrifice, then we're clothed in the white of Jesus' righteousness.
Five days later with high praise and worshipful celebration begins "Feast of Tabernacles". Though this Feast also has agriculture recognition (coming at the end of harvest), the "booths", "tabernacles", tents, represent the temporary dwelling of Israel's wandering in the desert. A long 40 years of wilderness, desert, thirst and hungering for a home.
We too live in temporary skin-wrapped dwellings erected by bone that hungers for a home. The Israelites reached Canaan's abundant land and miraculously crossed those Jordan waters to their Promised land.
To those who believe and receive: An eternal dwelling inhabits our temporary ones, the Holy Spirit a testimony and guarantee of eternity placed in our hearts. The two becoming one, Christ and us, Eternal and temporary, betrothed Bridegroom and Bride bond together by promise of a wedding feast.
And as the Jordan of Christ parted way to a Holy Spirit flowing with milk and honey, we too need only step our feet across for deliverance from a lost and desolate wilderness.
And as the Jordan of Christ parted way to a Holy Spirit flowing with milk and honey, we too need only step our feet across for deliverance from a lost and desolate wilderness.
Christ longs to redeem these tents inherited from the Garden. This tabernacle feast at the end of harvest and highly celebrated in tents, like those of wilderness days, is a foreshadow of things to come as much as things that were.
The time will come when He will harvest the fruits of His labor, His people, His Bride. Then we'll gather to celebrate our eternal deliverance from our former tents to inherit the dwelling of eternal Life clothed by Heaven. And what high praise and worshipful celebration will be this "Feast of Tabernacles" that overtakes all others.
The time will come when He will harvest the fruits of His labor, His people, His Bride. Then we'll gather to celebrate our eternal deliverance from our former tents to inherit the dwelling of eternal Life clothed by Heaven. And what high praise and worshipful celebration will be this "Feast of Tabernacles" that overtakes all others.
"For we know that if our earthly house, this tent, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed with our habitation which is from heaven, if indeed, having been clothed, we shall not be found naked. For we who are in this tent groan, being burdened, not because we want to be unclothed, but further clothed, that mortality may be swallowed up by life. Now He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who also has given us the Spirit as a guarantee." 2 Corinthians 5:1-5
Monday, September 6, 2010
When Hope Is Seen--Reading The Promise
"It shall be, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the rainbow shall be seen in the cloud; and I will remember My covenant which is between Me and you..." Genesis 9:14 and 15
There's a colorful promise this side of heaven. Sometimes it's suspended on the horizon and we need only step out to see it.
I almost missed this one. God's creation putting on a show. The second one in a week.
There's a colorful promise this side of heaven. Sometimes it's suspended on the horizon and we need only step out to see it.
I almost missed this one. God's creation putting on a show. The second one in a week.
This year our frequent rainbow spottings have been more fully-formed and more vibrantly arched unlike anything I've ever seen before. And their duration have given ample time to enjoy the awesome beauty on display.
No longer have I seen half-hidden glimmering colors of promise. They've not been partial shimmers in the sky that quickly fade any hope of color. Instead they've been bright, starkly-lit skyward things of artwork. Creator's canvas painting sky in abundance and emerging fullness with each gallery of wonder.
His covenant promise is shining brighter and fuller than ever before.
His covenant promise is shining brighter and fuller than ever before.
All the science of light refracting droplets of water with angles of sunlight and visual wavelengths, doesn't negate a covenant God. It doesn't seek to explain a painted promise or a Creator who chooses to look on His creation. "And God said:.. 'The rainbow shall be in the cloud, and I will look on it..'" Genesis 9:12 and 16
As the days draw nearer, so do His promises. Hope is fully written in the heavens for you as He arrays the sky with more than rainbows. He brightens them in Christ. "Like the appearance of a rainbow in a cloud on a rainy day, so was the appearance of the brightness all around it. This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the LORD." Ezekiel 1:28
Christ is a Light refracting in the world. A better covenant hung for the world to see and the skies testify this Hope like a rainbow written promise.
"Immediately I was in the Spirit; and behold, a throne set in heaven, and One sat on the throne. And He who sat there was like a jasper and a sardius stone in appearance; and there was a rainbow around the throne.." Revelation 4:2 and 3
I shared this at Bridget's place "One Word At A Time" on hope. Stroll out by her place and read the other places of hope and leave some of your own.
This was also shared on Emily's "Chatting At The Sky"s unwrapped Tuesday. Today, I'm unwrapping rainbows. Has something small spoken volumes to you? Or maybe a simple thing is being noticed just because? Share it at Emily's place so we can notice it with you.
"Immediately I was in the Spirit; and behold, a throne set in heaven, and One sat on the throne. And He who sat there was like a jasper and a sardius stone in appearance; and there was a rainbow around the throne.." Revelation 4:2 and 3
I shared this at Bridget's place "One Word At A Time" on hope. Stroll out by her place and read the other places of hope and leave some of your own.
This was also shared on Emily's "Chatting At The Sky"s unwrapped Tuesday. Today, I'm unwrapping rainbows. Has something small spoken volumes to you? Or maybe a simple thing is being noticed just because? Share it at Emily's place so we can notice it with you.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
I'm Infatuated With My Grill
Fire it up.
These eagerly awaited fall days are making their way onto our calendar just outside our air-conditioned walls. My grill has been lonesome on the back patio. There's something to be said about good quality time with tongs and sizzling steaks.
Marinating all the juicy candidates makes for tasty, seasoned morsels. My mouth waters in anticipation of the delicious fireworks. I missed you, grill. And all your goodies you bring to the table. But you've been too hot to endure in the already hot days of summer. So, you've been abandoned for the season.
Our soon-to-be reunion is going to be sweet and celebratory. Ringing in fellowship and signaling the falling season, you're like a marker of change. Albeit a cold, stainless steel one.
Yes Grill, you in all your special-ness, has a purpose. Besides my infatuation, I can't help myself. Standing under clouds and sky with you, I look up. Strange.
Sorry, but you're not my first Love. How did that come to be?
As one season passes on to another, we're changing with them. And like the tasty, seasoned morsels, what are we seasoned with? Are we salty with Christ?
“Salt is good; but if the salt has lost its flavor, how shall it be seasoned? It is neither fit for the land nor for the dunghill, but men throw it out. He who has ears to hear, let him hear!” Luke 14:34 and 35
These eagerly awaited fall days are making their way onto our calendar just outside our air-conditioned walls. My grill has been lonesome on the back patio. There's something to be said about good quality time with tongs and sizzling steaks.
Marinating all the juicy candidates makes for tasty, seasoned morsels. My mouth waters in anticipation of the delicious fireworks. I missed you, grill. And all your goodies you bring to the table. But you've been too hot to endure in the already hot days of summer. So, you've been abandoned for the season.
Our soon-to-be reunion is going to be sweet and celebratory. Ringing in fellowship and signaling the falling season, you're like a marker of change. Albeit a cold, stainless steel one.
Yes Grill, you in all your special-ness, has a purpose. Besides my infatuation, I can't help myself. Standing under clouds and sky with you, I look up. Strange.
Sorry, but you're not my first Love. How did that come to be?
As one season passes on to another, we're changing with them. And like the tasty, seasoned morsels, what are we seasoned with? Are we salty with Christ?
“Salt is good; but if the salt has lost its flavor, how shall it be seasoned? It is neither fit for the land nor for the dunghill, but men throw it out. He who has ears to hear, let him hear!” Luke 14:34 and 35
Friday, September 3, 2010
When Soul Wounds, Wound
There is a trail of the wounded.
In the hardcore exterior of false strength, I was only a shell. Hidden under layers of my self-erected compass for living. Grace was forsaken for serving, surviving and propping up self. Only after I returned Home did I receive the knowledge of Grace's depth and the vacancy of I how had lived without it.
Prodigal years made ragged my goody-shoes or any I thought I'd wear. Although I know there is no condemnation in Christ, I'm reminded of my hollow grace before Him.
What I had least to give, I received in spite of--the undeserved mercy of Grace. He broke my heart with it, replaced the stone with a flesh beating warm one. Although, I, responsible for so many woundings, was ministered by His healing graces. Me. The least of these it seemed. But I needed to be whole and healed to fully understand the wake of woundings. Ones I've committed and ones committed to me.
In the aftermath of abuse, we sometimes become our own physician.
We doctor our gaping soul-holes with quickly thrown band-aids in our attempts to be 'normal'. Hoping no one sees the damage we aren't truly able to manage. In our attempts to be better than the abuse, abuser, or victim, we instead become masters of our own salvation. Trust beaten back to self-reliance. This antiquated way coming from a fruit in the garden.
I, in all my glorious self, would not be a victim. Again. Little did I know of pain or the depths of which I'd inflict it. Healing comes by Grace of a great Physician.
It affects our vision. Our wholeness in Him adjusts our eyesight to His, removing the goggles of self and applying the contacts of Grace.
I am not able to save the wounded ones left in my wake of prodigal years. For though I thought I saved myself, I couldn't even save them from me.
There is only One who can save and only One who can heal. And I only by Grace have come to where I hope they too will find theirs. This thing of trust released at the Cross is met by the Person that makes us whole. It takes a greater Physician than us to know the depths of our wounds or the wounds we've inflicted on others but by His Grace we are healed to see them clearly. And by receiving the good medicine of Christ do we have lasting health for our soul.
"For I will restore health to you and heal you of your wounds," says the LORD, "Because they called you an outcast saying: This is Zion; No one seeks her.”’ Jeremiah 30:17
"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Psalm 147:3
Sharing fear vs faith and how my fear of being weak lead me to live in my own strength. That is until I came back to Him. My weakness allows His strength and my faith grows from it. Click with Tiffani's at more "Word Women Wednesday" for more.
I also shared this at Hillary's place where she's talking about Grace. Join us and leave your thoughts on grace in her corner of the blog sphere.
In the hardcore exterior of false strength, I was only a shell. Hidden under layers of my self-erected compass for living. Grace was forsaken for serving, surviving and propping up self. Only after I returned Home did I receive the knowledge of Grace's depth and the vacancy of I how had lived without it.
Prodigal years made ragged my goody-shoes or any I thought I'd wear. Although I know there is no condemnation in Christ, I'm reminded of my hollow grace before Him.
What I had least to give, I received in spite of--the undeserved mercy of Grace. He broke my heart with it, replaced the stone with a flesh beating warm one. Although, I, responsible for so many woundings, was ministered by His healing graces. Me. The least of these it seemed. But I needed to be whole and healed to fully understand the wake of woundings. Ones I've committed and ones committed to me.
In the aftermath of abuse, we sometimes become our own physician.
We doctor our gaping soul-holes with quickly thrown band-aids in our attempts to be 'normal'. Hoping no one sees the damage we aren't truly able to manage. In our attempts to be better than the abuse, abuser, or victim, we instead become masters of our own salvation. Trust beaten back to self-reliance. This antiquated way coming from a fruit in the garden.
I, in all my glorious self, would not be a victim. Again. Little did I know of pain or the depths of which I'd inflict it. Healing comes by Grace of a great Physician.
It affects our vision. Our wholeness in Him adjusts our eyesight to His, removing the goggles of self and applying the contacts of Grace.
I am not able to save the wounded ones left in my wake of prodigal years. For though I thought I saved myself, I couldn't even save them from me.
There is only One who can save and only One who can heal. And I only by Grace have come to where I hope they too will find theirs. This thing of trust released at the Cross is met by the Person that makes us whole. It takes a greater Physician than us to know the depths of our wounds or the wounds we've inflicted on others but by His Grace we are healed to see them clearly. And by receiving the good medicine of Christ do we have lasting health for our soul.
"For I will restore health to you and heal you of your wounds," says the LORD, "Because they called you an outcast saying: This is Zion; No one seeks her.”’ Jeremiah 30:17
"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Psalm 147:3
Sharing fear vs faith and how my fear of being weak lead me to live in my own strength. That is until I came back to Him. My weakness allows His strength and my faith grows from it. Click with Tiffani's at more "Word Women Wednesday" for more.
I also shared this at Hillary's place where she's talking about Grace. Join us and leave your thoughts on grace in her corner of the blog sphere.
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