Fearless Heights

Anxious hearts weave through crossroads of confusion.
The road ahead looms, while the path behind leaves souls worn.
Kaleidoscope glimpses instill an urge to fear what lies ahead.

Take this heart.
Walk before me.
Whisper sweet soothings.
Draw me closer.

Hazy visions of expectations collide with reality.
Protectors fail.  Leaders bail.  Promises sail.
Lessons on disappointment force hearts to place hope higher than fear.

Take this mind.
Clear its clutter.
Grasp my hand.
Draw me closer.

Finite disappointment arises, but protection is ever present.
Anxious anticipations dissolve, because higher strength overcomes.
Darkness fades as light illuminates each step taken forward.

Take this life.
Exchange my heart.
Hold me steady.
Draw me closer.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13

The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights.  Habakkuk 3:19

Arise My Love, The Rain is Gone

Despair and depression are the rock and rope that often threaten to sink hearts into the depths of hopeless. Walking through the darkness of our own heart, or the darkness imposed by others is inevitable in a fractured world. The challenge is to enter into the storm; to take painful step by painful step through the bitter winds of whatever your nightmare is titled: deceit, betrayal, rejection, abandonment, consequence, miscarriage, cancer, divorce, death, or fill in the blank.  The challenge is to learn to walk through the ominous paths with the knowledge that the Lord has each moment in His hands, and each moment is designed to weaken our mental death grip on the temporal, and strengthen our faith in the knowledge that everything goes beyond the here and now (2 Corinthians 4:17).

I'm slowly learning to not despise the difficulty of hard living, because the Lord is teaching me to rest in His promises.  He's filling me with the knowledge that his love is overflowing in joy and in sorrow; in difficulty and in disease; in clarity and in confusion.   When the weight seems unbearable there is solace knowing that He is constantly renewing me day by day.   The heaviness is real; the pain is real; the struggle is real; and his love is real: ^"Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted" (Hebrews 12:3).  His love is the kind of love I ultimately hope to display. The knock down, drag out, suffer, struggle, and fight kind of love.  I'm not talking the knight in shining armor culture love, but I'm talking the lay down your selfishness and woman up kind of love.  Oh you mean, it's not all about me?  There's not someone out there who is going to fill all my lonely?  No "the one" to meet my every selfish notion?  No prince to erase all the nightmares and paint a pretty portrait of me being whisked away when things get ugly?  No, because the truth is, real love involves letting go of self and grabbing hold of sacrifice.  

How does that translate into daily living?  Well, there's this reality that my self-focused, fear, and anxiety driven heart can often slam me against the wall of consequence, or wreak horizontal havoc on those around me.  The temptation is to remain in the shame and guilt of past mistakes or to throw up my hands in despair, but my hope must remain firm in the fact that He is relentlessly pursuing my whole heart, and the ugliness within is slowly being chipped away.  His goal isn't to ambush, or trap, but to set me free from heart entanglements  that threaten to destroy.  He is changing the old me day by day.  He presses where I need cleansing the most, and he meets me in the midst of the painful process. All the while he urges me to not grow weary, for the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it (Hebrews 12:11)... not an easy lesson. Yet, it's a beautiful lesson with a sweet spoken promise: 

"Arise, my love, my beautiful one,

and come away

for behold, the winter is past;

the rain is over and gone."'

Song of Solomon 2:10-11

http://www.thevillagechurch.net/sermon/examining-roots-renouncing-rerooting-and-asking#.Upv6SXYfQEA.email

Facing Fear

My family and I recently spent a week vacationing in the Outer Banks, and nothing quite fills my heart like a week filled with smart aleck comments from brothers, coordinating nap schedules of kiddos under the age of 4,  and the endearing nostalgia that accompanies a place visited every summer since I was a child.  This vacation I observed  and embraced a new phase of life; moments where I felt as if I was given an exclusive backstage pass as  I watched my brothers and sisters tackling parenthood with grit and grace.   I giggled thinking it was just yesterday that I was the age of my nieces and nephew, but oh how time has flown.  

One of my favorite moments from our vacation was standing by my three year old niece Cate as she faced her respectable fear of the ocean.  A fear that is warranted especially if you've ever seen the aerial view of what lies beneath the ocean surface...  hello  sharp toothed and pointed fin attacks.   Cate insisted I hold her hand and it was apparent that her faith was lacking in my ability to protect her in any kind of way.  This expressive little girl has no trouble emoting,  and so her big, blue eyes widened  and her clasp of my hand turned into a death grip as we took steps closer to the water.   We creeped our toes past the dry morsels and placed our tippy toes onto the wet sand and she looked as if JAWS were about to swallow her whole.

I chuckled in my head at her obvious lack of faith in my ability to protect her from the perilous water barely reaching our toes.  I patiently waited as she watched the waves crash onto shore, reach our feet and recede several times.   She then looked at me,  her grasp loosened and with a glint in her eyes she cautiously took two steps forward accompanied by a nervous giggle when the water drowned her ankles.  My playfulness emerged as I started to splash my feet in the water, and she mimicked me with a newly infused confidence.  As the water rose to her knees we approached the breaker and she draped her entire scrawny body around my solid legs, which according to my affectionate brothers are as solid as California redwoods.  Before too long we ventured forward and the waves were up to her waist.  Each step I praised and reassured her that I was not letting go. She clung more fiercely when the waves hit, but we continued to step further and deeper.   Cate's once stricken demeanor began to give way to confidence and she continued to battle further into what was moments before her greatest fear.  

Just like Cate I contend the battles of my own fear and doubt God's provision.  My fears look a little different, but still strike quivering terror and a sheer desperation for protection.   Fear often surrounds my feeble heart and threatens to immobilize; infiltrating every part of my mind and soul if I allow it to fester.  Fear does not magically dissipate, but it must be combatted with cultivating a deep seeded trust in the Lord who promises to protect us in every way.  Often I begin redefining God through my fear and circumstance; however, the Lord continues to surround me with his love in so many ways, although my heart is still painstakingly slow to trust.   The past few days I've whispered short pleas for His mercy:  change me; move me; fix me; help me.  Those pleas mixed with confession:  my selfish thoughts; my stagnant heart;  my faithlessness.   But, when it comes down to it, the reality remains that his love remains the same.  No matter what challenges arise, he does not change.  He is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.  There is nothing that I have to do to convince him to love me or pursue me, and nothing that I will do that will change his mind about me.

So why do I feel I am sometimes in a vicious cycle?  Well, because I am in constant motion of Him drawing me closer even though I shy away from His grasp.  He continues to affirm that it isn't about the past, present, or future failures I fear, but about Him and what He has already done and what He will continue to do.  He will never walk away despite all my heart mistakes, and all the messes I seem to keep creating.   The beauty of grace is that it is a part of the process of Christ refining me, not yet finished, but one in which He pursues until His purpose is complete in HIS perfection and not in my OWN doing. There is joy found in facing my fears and fleeing to him for refuge.  I find protection when I take a deep gulp of  His sovereignty, and breathe out the insecurities that threaten to flood my heart. Martin Luther describes this grace as, "a very great, strong, mighty and active thing. It does not lie asleep in the soul. Grace hears, leads, drives, draws, changes, works all in man, and lets itself be distinctly felt and experienced. It is hidden, but its works are evident.” So, I don't hold my breath in fear of the unknown, but I breathe in the grace of His healing work in my life.  Like Cate, I must learn to let go of my fear and dwell in the safety of His love, "because it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me....I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me (Galations 2:20), while my soul waits in silence for Him only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, My stronghold; I shall not be shaken. On God my salvation and my glory rest; The rock of my strength, my refuge is in God. (Psalm 62:5-8)

Reign and Rule

Angst is a blessing that points her gaze upwards; a necessary pain signaling a heart still pumping and not failing.   He will be the only one to hold her together,   ¹⁶ For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. ¹⁷ He is before all things, and in him all things hold together (I Colossians), but she's overwhelmed by the pull of the here and now.  The glint of the bright and shiny distract her fickle heart; where her treasure is, there her heart is, there her emotions are, there her spirit is. ²¹ For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also (Matthew 6:21).  A constant battle for affections wars and the line must be drawn and defended every day, every hour, every minute, and every moment.  The weight of her weakness presses heavy, yet His promise to restore remains her hope.

No longer is she suffocating under the misconception that she can swim to safety by herself, but a fight still rages to grasp tight her desires.  She's tempted to wrestle the waves of the temporary on her own.   The tide of wistful longings and numbing substitutes threaten to overtake, and all the while the threat of drowning is not outside of her, but within.   The desire to control the  uncontrollable height, depth, and strength of the waves produces overwhelming fatigue, and she must continually let go of the misconception that anything but Him will carry her safely to the shore.  The knowledge that He is in complete control and His love remains the same gives her peace no matter the tow.

The tide pulls from all angles; yet, her joy ignites as she savors the impact of beauty created from ashes; how an infinite, omnipotent, all-knowing creator, can weave all circumstances, all free-will decisions, all sin,  and all actions for the good.  The unlimited patience of Her creator to see His work complete gives her comfort, but she acknowledges that it requires an internal wrestling, a brutal facing and relinquishing of the here and now;  a continuous letting go of selfish desires in exchange for the beauty of His perfect reign and rule.

Joyous Holiday Blues

Psalm 34:18
18 The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Holidays are always interesting. I love them, but at certain moments I get sucker punched with emotions. You know when you hit the point of exhaustion and become frustrated with your heart and situation? I become frustrated because I feel I should "be over" those feelings, but they still come back just as strong. So then I have condemning thoughts which leads to sadness which leads to doubt which sticks me back in that pit of despair. UGGG it's the worst! I become fearful that I will always experience these brutal feelings which causes my heart to break all over again. Yet, the good news is that Christ has got me right where He wants me, and He's going to walk with me through every painful step. I know He will use all of this for His glory. Memories and loneliness are beyond difficult and suffocating. But again, it keeps me depending on Christ for my ultimate security - not easy but essential.

The hard times will continue to come, but Christ is right there with us and He will continue to place people in our lives to help us make it through the depths of the depths. The beauty is that He knows exactly how we feel and no one else really understands the depths of our pain but Him. I just found this secular song turned spiritual (b/c being a Christ follower means we get to see Him in everything) and it speaks to my heart in a huge way - knowing Christ is continuing to heal and repair my heart, even when it feels completely hopeless.

James 4:8a
8 Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.


1 Peter 5:7
7 casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.


Psalm 22:14
14 I am poured out like water,
and all my bones are out of joint;
my heart is like wax;
it is melted within my breast;


Lamentations 2:19
19 “Arise, cry out in the night,
at the beginning of the night watches!
Pour out your heart like water
before the presence of the Lord!
Lift your hands to him
for the lives of your children,
who faint for hunger
at the head of every street.”

Friends the holidays sometimes mean one foot in front of the other - God will be right there. Sometimes holidays mean a grand canyon absence of those who are no longer - the worst pain, and I wish I could take it away. However, I know that God does not take us through pain as punishment, and He loves us more than anyone could. Continue to trust that this is all a part of His ultimate plan for good. I am praying for you every step of the way. Love you friends.

My Jonathan

“....for he loved him as he loved his own soul” (v. 17).
- 1 Samuel 20

Vulnerability is not his forte, and his words will leave others bare.  His condemning thoughts turned to action have stripped him, and there is nothing left but to reveal the rotting flesh.  The miles running under the tires are building the dread of laying his deepest debt upon the table, but he is compelled to end the charade.  He has no thoughts to feel for others, because his hole of a heart has become a crater of self-preservation; devouring deceptive promises into his starved soul.  Now is the time to end the concealment and dangle his heart on the line.

The biggest battle originates from within, and it will destroy all in its path. The scales that have multiplied must be shed.  He sits across from eyes that will soon experience busted betrayal.  He wants more than anything to be rid of the lies, but knows the pain that will gush forth with the tidal wave of truth.  He fears the layers that must be scraped are too deep for his own healing much less anyone else, yet the eyes that meet the first swell of shock are a stunned, saddened compassion. A reaction of devastation mingled with a piercing acknowledgment of the real man.  A man wounded, lost and in desperate need of someone who abhors the evil within him,  but clings to the good and devotes himself to fighting whatever demons arise.

The selfish man meets the self-giving man who shares  the weight of consequences.  The lonely wanderer meets the loving brother who wipes away his tears of sorrow.  The hopeless meets the hopeful - a radical who loves his neighbor as himself.  The trusted foe sees beyond the disaster, broken and bloody, and sets his friend's eyes towards the restored and refined road.  He takes his brother's hand as they navigate the ruins and reminds him of his substance,  a path pointed towards joy, hope, and love. They grasp onto hope and persevere through deafening doubt towards  a destination guaranteed to bring ultimate love, security, fulfillment and significance. 

The Difficult Plan

"This moment of difficulty is not in the way of the plan. This moment IS the plan. The difficulties are a sure sign of his redemptive love .. Not unfaithfulness."  - Paul Tripp

Dear regret,

Those condemning  thoughts just won't let you sleep and keep nicking those healing scars open.  Yes, your reaction to the cage of pretense was cruel.  Walls upon walls of numbing protection growing in response to manipulation. Bricks surround your bleeding heart.  Bricks meant for a tall tower of protection, but resulting in a fortress for a battle leaving victims in its wake.

Dear wounded,

Unspoken words left a gaping hole; a slicing silence of retaliation.  You know it was too much for another to enter into the pain of the cuts you carelessly carved.  You weep over another's apathy and mourn your sinful search to fill the void.  You tested beyond what any heart should face, yet you still feel the consequences that burn of hatred and numbing disregard .

Dear fearful,
A small heart was replaced with another, a gift wrapped with sorrow, as one mother's tears give way to another's joy.  One moment full of promise, and the next a harsh inhalation of despair.  Trepidation produces the thought that your gift, too, could be taken at any moment and the struggle against doubt threatens to consume.

Dear bitter,
A life was stripped from your loving grasp, leaving billowing storm clouds.  The senseless pain and loss weigh heavy upon your soul and threaten to suffocate.  The loudness of an empty home screams of memories spent and dreams dashed.  You choke on the silent sob erupting within and raise fists to the dark sky.

Dear friends,
The ghosts that haunt can linger if we grip tight.  How shall we answer?  Oh Lord, be our hearts and minds, when we cannot feel or think in tidal waves of despair.  Restore in our hearts the faith to relinquish from our hands and place back into the hands of one who orchestrates every grief-stricken second for the redemptive good.  We will most certainly breathe again when we gasp fighting against the chains that so easily shackle.   His blood cleanses, His word breathes new life, and his love...  
Oh, His sweet love breaks the chains.  

When the "Whys?" become Wise

There is something about a love that's lost.  The pain of loss through mistakes.  The pain of loss through senseless.  The pain of loss not understood.

I gather the tears of friends.  Wounds of heartless nights in a union of wedded souls.  Cries of babes who will never be heard.  Shouts of cancer silencing another saint.

His perfect rhythm was fractured and here we are.  Fighting.  Fighting without.  Fighting within.  Limping along.  Feeling sinews tearing at the frustration of the unpredictable.  Feeling failure.  Feeling helpless in an out of control world.

But, He said look unto me, and so I look.  I keep looking, and I keep pressing.

There is a beauty in restoration.  A restoration that does not return love lost.  A restoration that heals without answering the why.  A restoration that slices deep down in the soul and reveals the reality of a heart struggle.

There is a joy in facing fear.  A joy in everything stripped bare.  A joy that begins to seep ointment into the wounds of abandonment, suffering, and pain.  A joy in the "whys?" of rage becoming the "wise" of trust.

There is a healing in the fight to believe.  A healing in the refusal to accept the here and the now.  A healing in the laying down of desire. A healing in fists flung at the demons of the night.  A healing of open and raised hands towards the light.

Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved, for you are my praise.

Jeremiah 17:14 

Psalm 40 - June 2011

Psalm 40For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.
I waited patiently for the LORD;
he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand.

A dear friend asked me the other day how I was feeling. Now, most of my close friends know when they ask this particular question at this time in my life, it has the potential for a theological dissertation. The usual topic of choice: the purpose of affliction brought on by one’s own sinful nature. AKA~ Don’t ask unless you are ready to take a ticket on the emotional rollercoaster of a convicted sinner.

Well, s/he did ask…

My response was a metaphor, which corresponds to my recent thought patterns. My whole English major background has trained me to connect any and every situation to a concrete example. I’m a “live and learn kinda’ girl”, which is not always the most direct route but it does provide me with the capability to make an abundance of metaphors come to life.

My response to my dear friend is one that has taken shape through the means of various sermons, conversations, and stories. Often, I preface my painfully long answers with this statement, “You really want to hear how I feel?” It gives my poor friend (or should I say victim?), a chance to say something such as “I totally forgot, but I do in fact have to wash my hair, but is a rain check possible?” However, my sweet, patient friend insisted that I continue.

I began with one of my metaphors, “Have you ever seen Deadliest Catch? You know the documentary/reality TV show that portrays events during the Alaskan king crab fishing season? The show that mirrors its title based on the hazardously high possibility of injury or death associated with the work? Honestly? I feel as if I’m in the middle of the latest episode. It is the middle of the night, pitch black, and I am stuck in the center of a fierce Bering Sea storm. I am blindly clinging to whatever hard, stable object I can grasp. My body is bracing for the next onslaught of icy waves that will certainly, drench my body and send me slamming, reeling, and grasping for the next solid object in the scope of my exhausted grip. I am attempting to avoid being pitched into the churning, chilling waters.

The craziest part about the situation is that I’m the one that steered the boat into this storm. I’m the one that disregarded the Captain’s orders, the weather watches and warnings. I’m the one who blindly and arrogantly assumed there may be danger ahead! I’m the one that failed to protect her crewmates who were pitched into the darkness of the night. Yet, I continued to direct the ship towards the dark, looming clouds. Now, I’m alone in the fiercest storm of my life. However, I suddenly realize that I am really not alone. My omniscient Captain has awakened to the sound of my cries for help. He has taken back the wheel that I foolishly thought I could handle. Still, even though I know His capable hand rests on the wheel, the gale force winds and waves continue to lash around me. As the storm’s winds throw me about, I realize they are consequences of my stubborn pride. My weakness, failure, and foolishness have left me vulnerably clutching to the deck amidst the crashing roar of consequence.

Still, my Captain does not fail me. Even though I doubted him, even though I rebelliously chose to steer his ship towards destruction, He stands like a strong tower. I merely had to whimper for his help and He came to rescue. His strength and wisdom are navigating me through the darkest throes of the night. Though my body is bruised and battered from my foolish decisions, he instills courage throughout my being. Calmly, he is driving out my fears in the midst of my self-inflicted chaos. He tells me that this is His purpose: to save me from myself, to drive out the disillusionment within, and to set my feet back on solid ground. Although the storm rages on, the grace of His presence overwhelms me, and His voice assures me that He will save me. He does not promise to take me back to where I began. He does not promise to bring back my crewmates. He does not promise that I will not feel the searing pain of broken limbs, dreams, and desires. But, He does promise to set my feet on solid ground, to create in me something drastically new, and to steer me towards the rising sun of the shore."

How beautiful to find that our captain, our God, is in the business of saving us from self-inflicted storms? How merciful, how gracious, how mighty is He!? Clinging to our Lord amidst the afflictions of our life, whether self-inflicted or not, is our calling. At times, we are the misguided fisherwoman and at other times we are the wounded crewmates. No matter the storm, our Captain desires that we look to Him in this fallen world. When we are weary, broken, afraid, hurt, lonely…He is the only one who will give us the sense that this world is not our hope. Our hope does not lie in situations, occupations, people, or possessions. Our hope lies in a God who will and does abundantly more than we can ask or think.

Shattered Promises - July 2011

Shattered Promises

A glance in the rear-view mirror screams
Dark alleys of accusation and crime
Blinded by a pulsating ache for recognition
Turning to anything to numb the pain

Don’t fear
You are not alone
I am with you
Trust me
Take the next step
Turn my darkness into light
Hold my hand along these unfamiliar paths
Overcome with sobs for love
Neglecting to turn to the one who fulfills

Don’t fear
You are mine
You are passing through rough waters
You will not drown
Grasp me tighter
The burn of shame and regret sear
You are precious to meThe heat of consequence glistens on my forehead
Forget the former thingsThe flames of failure rise higher
See, I’m making a way in the desertImmobilized by pride
Call upon meWeary with pain
You will find streams in your wastelandFear of failure
Your dark alleys will become smooth pathsBlinded by regret
Open your eyesPervasive potholes
I will walk with youEmpty longings
I will show you love like you’ve never known beforeSave me
For your sake I will rescue you.

Isaiah 43When You're Between a Rock and a Hard Place

1-4 But now, God's Message, the God who made you in the first place, Jacob,
the One who got you started, Israel:
"Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you.
I've called your name. You're mine.
When you're in over your head, I'll be there with you.
When you're in rough waters, you will not go down.
When you're between a rock and a hard place,
it won't be a dead end—
Because I am God, your personal God,
The Holy of Israel, your Savior.
I paid a huge price for you:
all of Egypt, with rich Cush and Seba thrown in!
That's how much you mean to me!
That's how much I love you!
I'd sell off the whole world to get you back,
trade the creation just for you.

The Year of The Lord's Favor - August 2011

The Year of the Lord's Favor

61:1 The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor; 
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; 
2 to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor,
and the day of vengeance of our God;
to comfort all who mourn;
3 to grant to those who mourn in Zion—
to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;
that they may be called oaks of righteousness,
the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.
4 They shall build up the ancient ruins;
they shall raise up the former devastations;
they shall repair the ruined cities,
the devastations of many generations.

My morning commute travels down a picturesque landscape of the Deep South.  Most days, I try to capture a mental snapshot of the sun sliding upwards over the floating docks of the Ashley River estuaries.  The warmth of morning light glistens through rippling water reeds and the smooth strokes of a wading, snowy heron calm my morning jitters.  A glance further up the highway flickers a picket fence pasture full of life; geese gathering speed as they ascend into a soaring V, red cows munching breakfast while small egret weave in and around foraging for insect prey disturbed by the thud of hooves.  These are the moments I must catalog into my soul album; precious glimpses of God’s intention for his world; harmony and holiness.

Above all others, the snapshot I treasure most extends overhead in a canopy of mossy oaks sent to console my aching heart.  The beauty of these trees is a deep-down in your bones stirring comfort; the trunks tout strength, the curving limbs careen grace, and the branches drape a refuge in my soul.  It’s hard for me to fathom that these trees could be any less magnificent than at this very moment, yet these strong oaks were susceptible to the destruction of Hurricane Hugo in the ‘80s.  The hurricane left much devastation and despair in its wake, including my mighty oaks. What are you telling me Lord?  My first thought is I own no sense of nostalgic connection with what these trees used to be, but then I pause.  I can relate.  I ache with a wistful desire to erase the devastation of the past year.  After which, I am left painfully aware of my powerlessness in the midst of circumstance.  The Spirit connects to me through nature.  These grand oaks allow me to revel in nostalgia for the girl I lost.   Yet, lived through the lives of oak trees, I unearth a renewed hope in the available promises of beauty and restoration after disaster.

My thoughts gather momentum as I contemplate the oak to self.  I discovered the life and quality of an oak is greatly influenced by pruning.  The tallest and most arching trees are often the ones pruned at a young age. Most oaks develop mechanical growth problems caused by self-inflicted wounding usually due to neglect, which can become a haven for insects or a potential disease infection.  Self-inflicted wounding sounds too familiar.  My heart is diseased, but I long to be a magnificent oak.  The reality is I have failed to turn to my Healer for pruning. In the absence of pruning shears my senses deadened and thus, disease could flourish; a sickness resulting in heart wilt and devastating darkness.   Pruning for my heart was way past due.  Christ was sent for this very reason; to open my eyes, to mend my broken heart, and to release me from sin’s bondage. The great healer is going to work pruning my wounds:  self-inflicted and neglect ridden.   

It’s a matter of survival for a live oak to have optimal irrigation and I have an eerily similar parched thirst.  Recently, I’ve gulped from Christ’s cup of divine justice for he has already satisfied the debt for my sin. The weathered, mature oaks tower over my tree stump and whisper comfort that God will restore the scorched places within me.  The oaks encourage, insist I take swallows of undeserved grace, and that I rest as incessant mercy hydrates my drought filled heart.  My heart is crowded with disease like an oak’s decaying branches and must be trimmed immediately or else death is certain.   My broken heart meets God’s forgiveness in the midst of despair and hopelessness.  Everyday his Spirit lobs off branches of my evil desires and vices.  Removing an oak’s dead branches helps the tree’s overall health by pushing the growth to upper branches, which provides better growth structure to the highest canopy.  And there I am again, mirrored in an oak.  He is removing my dead, self-centered branches, helping to push my growth to the upper branches of humility.  His strength begins to circulate hope through my limbs as he reminds me that he has conquered Satan, destroyed the disease manufacturer, and has provided me with grace sufficient to shear off sin-infected branches. 

Resistance to wind is often the reason many oak limbs break. Isn’t that how I’ve been broken?  I’ve resisted God’s call and blindly searched for healing in all the wrong places.   Perhaps, the oak’s greatest pruning need is to thin the large, heavy tufts of growth that form on the ends of the branches. If these are left to grow, the limbs often break during storms because of the great weight that causes them to sway back and forth.  Did I foolishly think I had this God thing down as tufts of self-righteousness weighed me down?  I determined I could rule my own kingdom and God was welcome to join me if he wanted. The weight of my foolishness pulls on my heart.  The knowledge that my desire for control led to an envy of God’s omniscience and caused me to fearfully sway from my Shepherd’s path is why I was eventually left, lost and broken.  However, hope rises because the magnificent oaks of saints past and present still stand to display a promised beauty instead of a forever darkness clothed in ashes of mourning. 

Captured in the everyday are pictures of how God is at work in the events of history to work out his purpose.  Christ calls us out of darkness to turn our sorrows into joy when we turn from sin and to him, “ But ‘we’ are the ones chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a holy people, God's instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference he made for ‘us’—from nothing to something, from rejected to accepted” (1 Peter 2:9-10 The Message).  Our spirits of heaviness will be blown away and winds of praise and thanksgiving will freely flow through us and to others by his grace.  Our brokenness over sin is met with his promise to patiently eradicate the decay that so easily infects life. We will be planted and pruned so that he may be glorified through breathtaking branches of devotion. He will shear off sin’s bondage, comfort in sorrow, and cure wounds. He will extend our canopy as a refuge for others who are hurting, so that one day we will be called oaks of righteousness—a keepsake photograph for the soul.

GRAVITY - September 2011

GRAVITY

The cycle of wilderness living begins: no breathing, voices surrounding, conversation floating, daily life going on around, and trying to focus. FOCUS. My senses are acute: pounding head, aching heart, and limb numbness. Every part of me feels raw, vulnerable, and exposed.

She says to me, "You aren't your normal chipper self." It's been awhile since I've felt ready to face the day, much less chipper, but this innocent remark slings a derisive laugh within. "Really, today?" sarcasm dripping in the sinful response I would like to project, but only retaliating in my own head. I incredulously think, "Today, my iPod is just malfunctioning. How about months ago when life seemingly took a turn for the worse and forever changed?"

I want to fix everything, but I can't.

I'm devastated, angry, sad, lonely, lost, and confused.

RAW EMOTIONS LADEN WITH GUILT

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life
In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life (Mumford and Sons, "Awake My Soul")
I want the overflowing, happy, hopeful, cheerful, bountiful, focused, clarity. Be still? How am I supposed to be still when everything is crashing. Know? How am I supposed to know when everything is foreign? God? How is my weakness his strength? I sense the nearness of evil the harder I press in towards Him, and I cry to Him for help to sync my heart with His will.

GRAVITY OF REALITY MEETING CLARITY

Awake my soul, awake my soul
Awake my soul
You were made to meet your maker (Mumford and Sons, "Awake My Soul")
He walked in the betrayal of his closest friend. He knows the gravity of being tired. He knows the collision of sorrow, anger, and frustration. He knows the weight of being overwhelmed, distressed, fearful, and exhausted by uncontrollable circumstances and temptation. He knows sorrow, pain, and the gravity of loss, "He said to them (disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane), my soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me." (Matthew 26:36)

Jesus was tempted, betrayed, hated, suffered, and died. He endured for me. He lived hard, so he could be with me in the gravity. Am I alone in loss, sin, or suffering? No, he knows. He knows. HE KNOWS. I must take hold and believe in his grace, wisdom, and love. I plead, "Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long." (Ps. 25: 4-5)

Matt Chandler's sermon "Gravity"

Teach Me - October 2011

Teach me

Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
God teaches us so many things. Over the past year, I've begun to see how God introduces you to an idea and changes your mind. Lately, I've been feeling frustrated by my lack of heart understanding. Mentally, I can whip out what God is teaching me and why, but my heart has been undergoing major surgery for the past several months.

It's interesting how I can mentally grasp, Psalm 147:10-11 "His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse, nor his delight in the legs of a man; the Lord delights in those who fear Him, who put their hope in his unfailing love," yet my heart is having to feel every cut of the surgical knife.

God doesn't care about my strength, because it's not about me, but about his unfailing love in my weakness. I've been so scared to show vulnerability and weakness to my God and Savior, and he is slowly revealing to my heart that he is faithful to complete this work in me. The reality is that God is and was and will be aware of the complete failure that I am and was and will be. Isaiah 43:19 "See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland." Again, a verse that logically should seem to come naturally, "Trust God. He's doing more than you could ever imagine!"

But, faith is not brought about by Hello Kitty Band-Aids, but by surgical precision. God's enforcing the fact that his ultimate plan is good. His ultimate plan is not about me. His ultimate plan is about himself. "C'mon Liz, Can't you see it? I will show you that my love is beyond anything that this world can offer. I will show you that my plan is to use you, yes the sinner that you are, for my ultimate glory. I love you. I will deliver you from your sin. I am faithful. I don't leave you in your junk, but I redeem you."

Praise the mount, I’m fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.

Fount Ants of Blessing - October 2011

 

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Whispers of thanks fill my mind; manna in the wilderness is a precious thing if recognized. I wince down to stretch with my fellow runners, and I chuckle knowing that their ages combined match my own. Suddenly, stinging sensations prick my legs and arms; the red march of ants startles me into concealed panic. The shooting pain triggers my thoughts to ant piles of religious rituals that often hide my need for the mercy of my Savior. Thank you for planning my rescue before I even knew my need, "Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, nor of me his prisoner, but share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God, who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began" (II Timothy 1:8-9). Each prick of pain reminds me that he sees and knows every bit of me, "And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account. Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin" (Hebrews 4:13-15). Thank you for reminding me who I was yesterday does not dictate who I am today. The fire ants' venom punctures my skin and causes it to swell causing pain and irritation, much like the accuser trying to infect my faith. Thank you for never tiring in picking me up and defending me. The battle of fire ants can often leave scars, and sometimes its victims experience severe or life-threatening allergic reactions. I sense the same severe reactions to sinful failure and damning accusation: cutting chest pain, nausea, severe sweating, loss of breath, and serious emotional swelling. But, I also know the soothing balm promise of my Savior’s blood,"then he showed me Joshua the high priest standing before the angel of the LORD, and Satan standing at his right hand to accuse him. And the LORD said to Satan, 'The LORD rebuke you, O Satan! The LORD who has chosen Jerusalem rebuke you! Is not this a brand plucked from the fire?' Now Joshua was standing before the angel, clothed with filthy garments. And the angel said to those who were standing before him, 'Remove the filthy garments from him.' And to him he said, 'Behold, I have taken your iniquity away from you, and I will clothe you with pure vestments.'" (Zechariah 3:1-4) I stand accused and guilty, yet Christ erased my iniquity within a single day. Shouts of praise to my Savior for anthill reminders of undeserved grace, ever-flowing mercy, and conscience cleansing wholeness only made possible through his precious blood.

Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.

Gospel Rhythm Breathing - November 2011

Gospel Rhythm Breathing

She groggily rolls over to tap her cell phone backlight and groans knowing she has overslept. Her next thought immediately detects the familiar pressing weight upon her. She tries to push herself out of bed, but the inner pull of reclusion lulls her to tug the covers tighter. The self-talk begins, "Days like this are inevitable. Shove back the weight. Force yourself to go. You will feel better after church." But, she knows despite all her positive mantras that today will be a battle for affections.

Fifteen minutes to look presentable will have to work, but every move she makes feels like she has been shot with a debilitating tranquilizer. Fifteen minutes becomes twenty and the negative mental chiding becomes fiercer, "If you would have gone to bed early you would be ready to go. This is typical of you; you can't do anything right these days. Why are you even bothering going to church when you know your state of mind?" She already feels weak, a mere twenty minutes into her Sunday, yet she presses heavier on the gas pedal and speeds down the road.

She pastes on an adequate smile while swiftly moving past the sanctuary greeters, and exhales a deep sigh of relief as she sees one of her dear mentors strategically placed in the back row with an empty seat beside. She shoots an upward prayer of thanks, the first taste of sweet gratitude this morning. An hour at the foot of the cross an in the cocoon of community reduces the numbness of the early waking hours, yet the reality of heavy living to be faced within an hour or two terrifies and lingers. The closing words of her pastor leave her hungry for more of the grace and mercy she craves, but emotionally she still feels distraught with failures, insecurities, and fear.The drapes are drawn in her home and she retreats into the darkness of her room. Fatigue falls upon her like a suffocating avalanche. Self-hate creates iciness in her heart, and she aches for her Savior to breathe his warming balm upon her soul. However, the numbness is returning with a stronger force and she prays for no one to call her, so she can spare them from the brutality of her stormy day. Mindlessly she watches the characters on the Netflix^© screen until her eyes flutter shut for late afternoon hours of untainted sleep that flow into evening hours.

Abruptly she awakens at midnight to the reality that she has not escaped the avalanche, but she is still falling. She begins to scream with tears streaming and snot flowing. She keeps thinking the avalanche will soon halt, but the downward somersaults continue to bring her further down into the depths of the valley. Suddenly, in a split second, she feels the cold on her face; she doesn’t understand what is happening; she is confused but certain she has fallen off a cliff. She recalls a frightening documentary claiming ninety percent of all avalanche accidents are triggered by the victim, or someone in the victim's party and she knows this is true to life. She reflects on months of falling and feeling like a rag doll thrown by the snow. At times she remembers seeing the sky and the snow and the sky again and again as her body tumbled head over heels and from left to right. As she tries to lull herself back to sleep, dark flashbacks grip her and she feels powerless to thrash against the tightening straightjacket.

The next morning she awakens to the reality that she can't muster faith. She has to keep asking for his mercies and be obedient to his calling. Her hope is not in the now; buried in the avalanche of mistakes, or a rescue from present difficult circumstances. But, her hope is relying upon Christ in the darkest of days knowing that difficulty, suffering, and discipline are tools being used to dial her into His will and for his glory. She must remember and rejoice that God saved her, he changed her mind, he ended her selfish pursuits, and he enabled her to come near to him, "But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ" (Eph. 2:13). She thanks him for taking away her sin through his blood and cancelling the record of her debt.

The avalanche days filled with her dark lies or the whispers from authorities and principalities must be met with the reality that God has saved her (Col. 2:13-15). Jesus himself prayed for the Spirit to intercede for him during his dark, desert days when tempted by Satan. The Spirit enabled Christ to battle the devil and empowered him to be obedient to God’s will for his life. Likewise, she recalls that if she walks by the spirit, and believes in the promises of God then she will overcome the flesh (Gal. 5:15-25). She begins to rejoice because she knows that her failures do not take God by surprise, and he is faithful to complete his work in her life (Philippians 1:6). She rejoices because her identity is now being found in Christ and she belongs to him. He never abandons and she is not the point. God has chosen her, he will not give up on her, and he will finish his work in her. As it happens, struggling against the avalanche is a waste of time and energy. She knows she must stop panicking and trying to move herself. She thinks to herself: 'You must calm down, keep your energy and establish a gospel rhythm breathing if you want to survive.' It is then that she begins to see the glimpses of the blue sky above her and stops focusing upon the snow packed circumstances around her.

Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it;
Seal it for Thy courts above. (source)

How He Loves - January 2012

How He Loves

To you, O Lord, she lifts up her soul. In you she trusts. Make your ways known to her. Teach her your paths. Lead her in your truth and teach her, for you are the God of her salvation; for you she waits all the day. Remember, O Lord, your compassion and your loving kindness for they have been from of old. (Psalm 25:1-2, 4-6)

How long, Lord? Will you forget her forever? How long will you hide your face from her? How long must she wrestle with her thoughts and day after day have sorrow in her heart? How long will her enemy triumph over her? Look upon her and answer her Lord. Give light to her eyes. (Psalm 13:1-3)

Her anguish is just a heart skip away. She closes her eyes, feels the heaviness of yesterday, and cries out. But, he softly whispers her name, draws her back into his cleft, and gently says to cast it all upon Him. "My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely" (Song of Solomon 2:14). He tells her to drop her burdens and keep her gaze towards him. He says to open her ears and listen, "I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what is promised you" (Genesis 28:15). I will restore your broken heart. I will mend the wounds of foolish mistakes and searing consequence. Keep running hard towards me, "...and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know" (Jeremiah 33:3). Bring yourself; your real self for I am the "God who sees you" (Genesis 16:13a). You don't have to pretend. "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you" (Hebrews 13:5). You don't have to put up false pretenses. "Don’t be afraid, I've redeemed you. I've called your name" (Isaiah 43:1-3). Cast your doubts, insecurities, and disillusionment upon me, and I will give you clarity. "Approach me with confidence, so that you may receive mercy and find grace in your time of need." (Hebrews 4:16). I will be your water in the desert heat. I have parted seas, calmed storms, and healed the sick. You are my child. I love you. I know who you are. I know who you have been. I know who you will be. Take heart and know my grace is sufficient. Take your hardship and place it in my hands; for I am the Lord your God who is and who was and who forever will be. Find peace. "Blessed are you my child when you trust in me, when you place your confidence in me. You will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. Do not fear when the heat comes. Your leaves will be green. Do not worry if you are in a year of drought; you will bear fruit" (Jeremiah 17:7-9). "Be still and know that I am God!" (Psalm 46:10). Stop trying to solve your problems on your own and realize that I've already battled for you. "I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing" (John 15:5). Do not try to figure out my plans, but trust that I am in control, "for nothing is impossible with me" (Luke 1:37). So, my precious one, "wait quietly before me, for victory comes from me...wait quietly before me, place your hope in me" (Psalm 62:1,5). My beloved, "rest secure, for I shield you all day long. I love you and you can rest between my shoulders" (Deuteronomy 33:12). She lies all her longings open before Him (Psalm 38:9), and He satisfies all of her needs (Isaiah 58:11).

An Excellent Wife - January 2012

An Excellent Wife

"An excellent wife who can find?" Proverbs 31:10

His words cut deeper than she ever imagined they could. This was the one thing he said would never happen. This is the one thing she was certain he would not do. They had been through years of struggle, but this would never be an obstacle. He had hurt her before. Oh, so many times his cruelty sliced to her core, and she fought back with her own malice. But, never did she think he would take it to this level. The past was the past, or was it? Had she been building icy walls of frustration and bitterness which in return he assaulted her with his own arrows of self-pity and resentment?

Within her begins to stir a rage. A rage against all that his actions implicate; a righteous rage, a selfish rage, a scream streams of profanities into the dark of the night until tears dissolve into body shake rage. The numbness of betrayal seeps into the once warm flow of her veins, but now all that remains is a glacial isolation never felt before. The questions and doubts begin to pound in her skull and she wants to sling mirrors towards her offenders and hear the satisfying shatter of destruction from her own hands instead of the helpless sobs erupting from within.

He asks her the impossible. She's a blind woman crawling. She feels the glass slash through her hands, and the ache of bloody knees stinging from the sinful decisions of others. She crawls on the engulfing shards of broken dreams and promises, and her mind screams for her to sprint to the solace of a locked closet away from the trauma that surrounds her. She wants to slide her battered and bruised body into the consoling darkness of retreat, but a sound plucks on what seems to be her last heart string. Her agony demands that she make a decision.

"Sleep and take your rest later on. See the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand." (Matthew 26:45-46)

Her humiliation threatens to send her hurling into hatred. She struggles with the mocking voices of insecurity that strip her of dignity and the deceiving lies revealed feel like spit in her face. Yesterday, she was a wife and today a victim. Her shame strips her down to the depths, and she cries out Christ's name. She extends her wounded heart towards the sky, and wails for her Savior to come and rescue her from the depths of despair. His light meets her darkness.

"And Jesus uttered a loud cry and breathed his last." (Mark 15:37)

He begins to clean her wounds with clarity of the grace he has shown her through his own death. Her gashes run deep and he promises to heal them. She is unable to see beyond the darkness that absorbs her, but she believes that he is faithful like no other and can sustain her through the most gruesome afflictions. He died a mortifying death so cruel to show how violently he loves her. Nothing can stand in the way of his love he has shown her from the cross, and she chooses to not let anything stand in the way of her love.

"An excellent wife who can find? She is far more precious than jewels. The heart of her husband trusts in her, and he will have no lack of gain. She does him good, and not harm, all the days of her life." (Proverbs 31:10-12)