tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61225796965666738522024-03-14T03:17:44.993-07:00Reaching for the RobeI'm on a journey with a set destination. Heaven! I want to journey well and bless those traveling alongside me. I don't want to sit - I want to make progress - everyday. But I know, I must feel the brush of His Robes, or I'll never make the climb. This blog will chronicle my journey, but more importantly, it will share my moments of reaching for the Robes of Christ.Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.comBlogger164125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-17235185202652404692020-08-16T20:07:00.002-07:002020-08-17T04:40:24.961-07:00While Hummingbirds Battle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOMDlXyKY3BiHwIRhaE4LdN0soHiCOQEauMueJrbTaDVR7k7CSWVOA5ThIlojQV3C11XhyphenhyphenTXV-9TK7oEVNPAlPtJ-4AjPh92WCyMdOXr96EXJs1ncy6bz_ZZ2CLD-KMNe2CEQpXkzNw4_0/s2048/IMG_4584.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOMDlXyKY3BiHwIRhaE4LdN0soHiCOQEauMueJrbTaDVR7k7CSWVOA5ThIlojQV3C11XhyphenhyphenTXV-9TK7oEVNPAlPtJ-4AjPh92WCyMdOXr96EXJs1ncy6bz_ZZ2CLD-KMNe2CEQpXkzNw4_0/w410-h307/IMG_4584.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We sat on the front porch this morning, early, before the temperatures pushed us inside. My dear husband and coffee and donuts and sunrise.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Before the day arrived, my ukelele and I had worshiped softly while the hummingbirds battled over the feeder at the edge of the porch.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After Steve returned with donuts for our early morning date, the hummingbird battles increased. It's astonishing to watch them in their territorial struggles ----- beating their tiny wings almost 60 times each second, sometimes even faster as they defend their cache of sugar water. We talked. They battled. We laughed and watched as they flew maneuvers black hawk helicopters would envy.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Then two collided,</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">mid-flight,</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">just over our heads --------</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">and two tiny feathers slowly floated to the porch floor.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Steve retrieved the tufts of fluff quickly for me; any faint wisp of breeze would have stolen them away. He gently placed them in my hand. He knows my love to hold a feather that's flown in silence, high in the blue above, and carried wind in its wings over mountain tops and seen all this old earth as little and distant and not-so-very-important beneath it.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">To hold a feather is to touch a bit of something that's traveled freely in the space between the dirt of earth and the holy of Heaven.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Yes – i'm a bit ridiculous about it. But, the Father let's me tuck under His wing often enough ----- I love when a feather comes near.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Holding the minute, wispy feathers in my hand while we talked the morning away, I then opened my Bible and taped them inside. A blue colored pencil gave a bit of background trying to make way for the white ends of the miniscule feathers to be seen. It did not work. For so faint was their petite feather strands, they hid under the tape, as if they were shy or secretive or wishing to camouflage themselves on the holy page.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And I thought on that for a bit.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Wishing I could hide myself sometimes, taped to a holy page.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Moving through the morning and the day ------ my heart seemed captivated by the whole of the morning and the whispered thoughts of my heart began to meet in the flow of................ this..............</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So much turmoil has boiled up in the world of America with the presidential elections looming and racial strife bubbling and lingering struggles of a pandemic and economical grievances ----- so much is shaking at the center of so many souls. And for those of us who pray, it's been like our very breath. I've had little to nothing to say about any of the above.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Not because it doesn't matter.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Not because it doesn't effect me.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Not for lack of care or concern.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Not for ignorance or aloofness either.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The hummingbirds battled this morning. Until a collision unfolded and feathers flew and injury came and something fell, there was loss, there was impact, it mattered. And it was a tiny picture for my soul to grasp hold of a “see”.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We people. We battle over things or opinions or thoughts or feelings. We have our own versions of “sugar water treasure”. And it's all well and good and even important to some degree. But when we collide and something falls, when there is loss, when hearts and souls are wounded --------- we are in err.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Love is the way.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Love endures all things.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Love will not be found colliding itself into another for the sake of an opinion or feeling or stance.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Love is kind.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Love is patient.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Love knows that everyone matters, God says it.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We people ------- we tend to think that what we think about this or that matters so very much.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Hummingbirds collided today. Tiny. Weightless. Hard-working hummingbirds. They crashed into one another and -------- part of what holds them in flight, fell.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I've watched quietly as many have voiced their stance, their opinion, their strong words flying, their line drawn in a place where there is no sand. And i've grieved it. I'm not special or holy or better than or “above” it all. I'm right in the middle of it and grieving.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I'm not intelligent enough to understand how a political party can maneuver great waves of influence to cause currents of confusion and compel hard-working people to suddenly demand this, require that, point fingers at one another, and defy authority ------- any authority ------ all authority ----- because they think they've grasped something all others have missed. And suddenly they act as if it is their job to teach and educate others based on their grievances. Oh God.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There I've said it.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I dug deep and sought the dregs of my heart, mind, and soul to try and find out ----- am I racist. The loud masses were saying if you're a white person living in America and especially if you grew up in the south ----- then for sure you are racist ------ and “you don't even know it, so you must first learn that you are, before you can change, to become something you should have been all along...”......</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So I dug.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I prayed.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I read books ---- numerous books.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I asked questions.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I asked others if they saw any racial attitudes in me.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And here goes ---- i'm going to say it ----- softly and loudly all at the same time.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I ------- am -------- not -------- a-------- racist --------- person!</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I'm white. I grew up in the south. I've loved people of every color in places all over this world. I'm a mess in many ways, I have a tendency towards fear, I can become anxious over even a loud noise, I have to work d-a-i-l-y to cling to the Robes of my Father above for healing of mind and grace upon grace and I know what the dew of mercy tastes like every morning.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Oh i'm so far from actually being the way my Abba-God-King-Healer-Father sees me.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But He is steadily, patiently, kindly, firmly and gently working on me still, still, still.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I adore Him. He is good.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When I asked Him if I was a racist unaware ------ He paused and flowed love into my heart with a faint whispering that sounded like, “I love you, you love others, that's our deal”.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I contacted a young lady i'd met in Uganda because she wrote words that stung as she accused missionaries she had met of being racist. She's a beautiful black woman who grew up in America. When I met her in Uganda, she told me how “white” she felt, and I was confused. She said she came to serve in Uganda because she felt she had grown up with so much privilege and love and opportunities, she felt she needed to serve those in Africa who had not had all the opportunities she had always known. I thought her one of the most lovely people. Then when the racial strifes unfolded after the George Floyd death/murder, she wrote posts that spoke very differently. Suddenly, she had major grievances saying she'd grown up under a weight of racial persecution. Those words were a paradigm shift from words she spoke while serving others in Uganda. Confusion could not hide. What a disappointment to my heart and soul. I asked her if Steve and I were included in her grouping of missionaries she accused of racism while in the field. She replied that we were not included in that group. But she went on to say that our opinions about Harry Potter (sorry, we're not on his fan-page) had hurt her and made her feel......(she went on)......</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">and it seems she held this against us.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">You see, when asked about racism, she could not point her finger at us, but she would use these dark days of strife to voice any grievance. Sort of an ala carte of offenses now on the racist platform.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Aren't we --- God's kids ----- called to love and forgive ---- and give grace. It's freely given to us from above.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Shouldn't we be the people found faithfully caring for one another?</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It took me a few days to work through the confusion of her views.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I've spoken with some friends who have expressed passionate views during these high-tension days and i've grieved.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I've spoken with some precious friends in Kenya and asked them many questions. Are Steve and I racist in our actions, reactions or interactions? Oh how I thank God for their words.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I've had Kenyan friends say ------ we can not begin to grasp why blacks or whites in America would destroy their good country in this way.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">One friend said ----- it was a black person in Africa who kidnapped and sold another black person into slavery ----- and many still do it even today. It is not a monster that was created by the white people.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Another said ------ if only I could have been taken to America (and to clarify, she actually meant even as a slave)---- I would have suffered there rather than suffer here ----- and at least my descendants would have had a chance to rise above. I would have gladly suffered there to change the paths my children walk on.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I've been told by the BLM movement I couldn't compare the two worlds ---- been told I shouldn't compare the two worlds ----- but i'm tired of being forced to ignore the raw reality --------- the suffering i've witnessed with my very own eyes in Africa ------- makes my knees weak. Daughters sold into slavery by neighbors or thugs or even family members. Not sold to a white person. But sold. And so many beautiful people working so hard to rescue them. There ARE still so many good people in this world. And what are they doing during these dark days? They are steadily, quietly, working and praying and helping every person they can. They are out there ----- doing beautiful, breathtaking work. They are unseen, they are quiet, they are busy, they are loving.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And the most beautiful souls I have met in all this wide-deep-long world ----------- are the ones who have suffered deeply in some way, then grabbed hold of Jesus, laid themselves in His hands, and came through the fire of their suffering knowing that He is good and His blood heals and love is the answer and what they think or feel or want is like a passing breath when they lift their eyes up to the One who adores them and is preparing a Home for them and holds their tears like treasures to His heart.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Beautiful ones are suffering even as I type this.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Precious babies are being murdered and ripped from the place where Holiness is forming them.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Servants of Love carrying the Good News to dark places are persecuted and tortured, beaten and murdered ----- it's happening right now ----- while you read.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This world is ruthless and cruel. But we are not suppose to join in.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The accuser is being loud these days. But we are not suppose to join in.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Every life matters. E-v-e-r-y-l-i-f-e-m-a-t-t-e-r-s.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">and</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Every life needs love. The dying one needs love. The tiny one needs love. The tired one, the beaten one, the lonely one, the hungry one, the accused one, the quiet one, the screaming one, the kind one ------- everyone needs love.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We can not, should not, must not let anyone, any cause, any position, any opinion compel us to join in with the masses and their movements. We have a call. We have One who stands, we fit perfectly ---- </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">right behind Him. And He is no wimp. He is all-powerful. He is the One who WILL END IT ALL.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We, His kids, must prove that we trust Him, and we believe Him, and we know a day of vengeance is coming and it is HIS. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We, His kids, we must prove that what His Word says is true ----- in our hearts, in our words, in our actions, and in our reactions. And His Word says we are to Love God and love others. All others.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The strife and stances and opinions and arguments are so much like the battling hummingbirds on my porch this morning. Collisions are happening among beautiful people who really need to pause and remember ----- the One that made us tells us to love each other. When love grows, hate fades. When love is chosen, accusing is quieted.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When the hummingbirds were at war with one another -------- not far away ------- high in the tree ----- a fierce hawk screeched as he watched the drama ------- and he waited.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He waited for his chance to kill and destroy,</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">something beautiful and tiny -- that sips nectar from flowers and causes no harm to any living thing.</p><p>Except perhaps............ to its own kind. </p>Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-92101933292309284822019-08-27T06:10:00.000-07:002019-08-27T06:43:45.105-07:00She Held Her Story.......... in Her Arms<style type="text/css">
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Her story was there for all to see. She
held her story in her arms.</div>
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With a soundly tenderized heart, I
watched this girl-child love the girl-child she'd given birth to and
love dripped from every move she made.</div>
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And I disliked this world all the more.</div>
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She lives on the side of a mountain in
Africa. She buys her baby's clothes from an open air market, the kind
that sells piles of used clothing from other parts of the world for
cheap prices in rural places. Huge bundles find their way to Mombasa
on ships. Merchants buy the bundles and carry them to every corner of
Kenya where local ladies buy the large bags of clothes. It's their
livelihood. They'll wash and re-fold the clothing and display it to
sell on market-day. (Display means – they lay them on plastic
sheets on the ground.) It's the “mall” in rural Africa.
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For the young momma I watched ---- it's
the only “mall” she's ever seen. She can imagine no other.</div>
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Her darling girl wears a frilly dress
with thick grey leggings. The dress, a perfect fit. The leggings are
far to large. Her bib is an echo from my own children's childhood.
Chuck E. Cheese is printed across it with a comical mouse grinning.
Instantly I remembered birthday parties where that same mouse danced
on a stage and pizza filled the plates. It's a world away from this
mountain-side in this rural church where girls gather.</div>
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I ask myself many times ------- what am
I doing here?</div>
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“Surely they need someone with
something more than me.”</div>
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It's a plaguing thought that comes when
the need is so big and my skin feels too small.</div>
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But I have learned............</div>
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I have learned that my skin is not the
part that matters. What a relief.</div>
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The ONE who brings us to the side of
the mountain -------- HE IS THE ONE who can stand up to the need that
I shrink under.
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Abba knows what to do.</div>
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He knows.</div>
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And I think of another young girl who
has given birth to a little girl in a place far from this mountain.
She too found herself with child.
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She too faced the choice.
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“Do I hide? Do I 'get rid of' the
little one growing inside me? Do I listen to the pressures of
others?” But she knew, both girls knew, “One reason this child
grows inside me is because I listened to the pressures of a boy-man.
He's long gone now. But I remain with a child growing inside. What am
I to do?”</div>
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The story's as old as dirt itself. The
momma is left to care for a child even if the “contributor “runs
away.
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And both girls I speak of asked <u>the
One who still saw them</u> for help. HE still looked at them for
----- who they are ----- not for what they'd done ------ and He
guided them in ways the world would not have. Both girls now hold a
girl-child and love gushes between child-mother and baby girl.
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And I feel the need to get on my knees.</div>
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This writing is not about pro-choice or
pro-life (although I always cheer for life). But I have had to face
horrific sights that have sent me to my knees and no judgement can
survive in those moments. I've looked into the eyes of girls who have
frantically worked to destroy the baby inside them or end it the
moment it was born, because she knew the horrors it would face if she
tried to keep it. I've held the girl who felt mercy was more
important than life. Some of them weep. Some are like stones. The
world is a cruel place. No judging is allowed.</div>
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The girl-child momma looked at her baby
girl with such deep-love. She had made her choice to deliver a baby
on the side of a muddy mountain and hold love in her arms for as long
as she could. Her girlfriends flocked around her; as if the baby-doll
they should have been able to hold as little girls was instead a
breathing-baby in their half-grown arms and they were thrilled to
hold something that would not hurt them. No judging is allowed.</div>
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We have come to this church to meet
with over 250 girls who do not have enough money to buy what they
need for their “monthlies” (as it is called here). Their parents
struggle on this mountain-side to provide school fees, so providing
even a few shillings more for private needs is something the girls
are left to figure out for themselves. For some parents it is
neglect. But for many, it's a reality of harsh life. When the choice
is either food on the plate or pads for the month ------- food wins,
every time. And so, as if out of a horror movie, the enemy of God
takes advantage of the need. He places a dark plan in the ugly hearts
of lusty old men. The crusty goats would provide a meager amount of
money to any girl who would “give” herself to him. She could then
go buy her needed pads, he would satiate his lusts, and he'd sit back
and wait until the next young girl rapped at his gate.
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Then it happened. A group of Kenyan
ladies on that same mountainside met and grew courageous together.</div>
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They knew what was happening.</div>
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They knew why so many girls were
getting pregnant at 12, 13, 14, and 15 years of age.</div>
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And they prayed for God to help
them help the girls.</div>
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Prayers led to conversations. We were
asked to pray. We prayed. </div>
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Sleepless nights overwhelmed us ------ we prayed through the dark hours.</div>
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God was clear. “Ask others to help.” </div>
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The air was as
thick the morning we wrote our hearts out in an email and
asked for H-E-L-P from friends back home. We could feel the
weight like cement blocks on our chests. </div>
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Why? </div>
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Because the enemy of
our Father knew what we were asking for and he knew it would mess up
his dark plans for destruction on the mountain-side.
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But we asked.
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And then it came rolling in ------ the
support to buy pads and undergarments for the girls came. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Generous hearts responded.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When we prayed with gratitude and asked
God for guidance, He sent us to mentors for their thoughts.
Wholeheartedly, they confirmed our thoughts, we should use the money
given to carry a whole generation of girls in this community through
the tender years of private needs ------- and enable these girls to
get their education, grow up, become influential ladies someday, and
then they, the young girls all grown, could become the mentors for
the next generations. It would enable these wounded girls to become
warrior ladies who KNEW the need and could deliver the final blows to
the lusty-users on the mountain-side. And the plan was set in place
by the One who heard their cries for help.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's why we go to the mountain-side.
The Kenyan ladies mentor these dear girls week after week and month
after month. When we are here, we join in and encourage them all.
It's beautiful. Really beautiful. Kenyan ladies helping Kenyan girls
rise above what would have smothered their future.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sunday I shared Psalm 25 with these
precious girls. The church was packed, but the girls sat so still.
They listened to every word given them. Their numbers have grown.
They're calmer than they were 2 years ago when this all began. They
smile more. They are being fed in ways life on the mountain would
have left them starved and dying. 5 Kenyan mommas allow us to come
alongside them as they grow up a new generation of girls. On Sunday I
was allowed to offer them Jesus-in-their-heart. As their hands were
filled with what they needed, their hearts were filled with the
Answer.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So many wanted to accept Jesus as their
Savior. They raised their hands and prayed aloud. And I know, the
Kenyan mommas leading this group will disciple them week after week
in the ways of Christ. We didn't count how many prayed ------ but we
know that the One who loves them dearly held the number to His great
heart and smiled. They are saved. They are being rescued. He knows
the plans He has for them.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The girl-child holding her girl-child
-------- I got to talk with her that day. She could speak no English.
That means she has been unable to go to school as much as she needed.
Monthlies keep girls out of school when they have no pad to stop the
flow. She is/was one of the “casualties” of the mountain. She is
the living proof of what had been happening.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A friend had recently invited her to
come to the church to meet the ladies who are helping the girls.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
That friend helped translate for me. It
was the young momma's first time to come to the gathering and she was
so happy to be received by the group and helped by the
Kenyan-momma-mentors. No judging allowed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's just such a beautiful picture of
the faithful way God moves in an unfaithful world.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He never gives up.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He does not turn away when we fall
down.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He is ever ready to respond to the one
who says, “<i>Help me Lord</i>”. <span style="font-size: x-small;">Psalm 91:15</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He is the One who “<i>rides across
the Heaven's to help us</i>”. <span style="font-size: x-small;">Deuteronomy 33:26</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAkMYnN3WbxnGrubp-rGKWhpUjqdEf0zWNCfDfyawo3fgX9ZABjfJcPYWSaGcc9coeaTGnFC_Jif2_z6FzEzpUzdnfKkz5wHbgZUObNZOzjv3mlypu2Lwq3MS0bHUUGXBanOTCHUYdWo2N/s1600/DSC_1686.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAkMYnN3WbxnGrubp-rGKWhpUjqdEf0zWNCfDfyawo3fgX9ZABjfJcPYWSaGcc9coeaTGnFC_Jif2_z6FzEzpUzdnfKkz5wHbgZUObNZOzjv3mlypu2Lwq3MS0bHUUGXBanOTCHUYdWo2N/s320/DSC_1686.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She left the church with more lines
added to her story. Good lines. Love lines.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She carried a baby-girl in her arms
when she arrived that day.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She left with her baby-girl in her
arms, supplies for her monthlies in her hands, and Jesus in her
heart.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And Love's arrival on the side of that
muddy mountain could not be stopped.</div>
<br />Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-44282849427539890272019-07-31T09:04:00.000-07:002019-07-31T09:04:05.931-07:00The Odds are Actually Against us......but He Isn't
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When something happens in our lives, or
something is about to happen........
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When we step into the places of
meta-cognition, and actually slow down enough to think about what
we're thinking about...........
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When someone says something to us or
sometimes even worse, when they should have, but they
didn't...........
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
At almost every juncture of human
interaction, it can happen in the blink of an eye.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We form a view, we develop an idea of
what we think they meant by what they said or did. We adopt an
internal view that can compel our response, or we may stay silent and
keep it to ourselves. They too are forming their own view of the
situation. Hopefully both views are positive. We can hope the heart
and mind of both individuals is upright and well-intentioned. If so,
it's the best chance the interaction will land in good places. But
here's the craziness of human interactions ------- even when both
participating parties are good hearted and well-meaning -------- so
often something that should have glided through smoothly,
inadvertently turns sideways, a clog-up forms, and one or both people
can walk away a bit quirked on the inside.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Good grief, it happens quicker than
lightening. And always the thunder boom comes afterwards, sometimes
in the far distance, sometimes close enough to rattle a heart.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The thunder-moment comes when we
realize the odds have worked out against us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's terribly important we realize,
that when lightening strikes, it always causes damage! Every-time.
When we hear the thunder roll, it is telling us that somewhere,
something just got whammed with upwards of one billion volts.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If the thunder roll is far away, we
know the impact was miles away. But when the thunder rumbles our own
chest, we know the volts did damage up-close.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lightening is much more clear than
human interactions.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Here's the skinny of it. When we have a
conversation, whether through verbal words or body language, we must
remember -------- two thought-clouds are coming near one another
------- and if they collide, emotional-lightening will be produced.
Emotional-thunder lets us know damage occurred. For some people the
lightening's damage shows up quickly (the sanguine and choleric), but
for some the damage that occurred will show up in more distant
thunder (phlegmatic and melancholy). But, the impact happened, the
damage is there and the wise among us are cautious on the front side
and quick to care in the aftermath.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hang in here with me for the real dilly
of it. (As if lightening and thunder isn't big enough........)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When communicating with one another,
there is usually something of importance to convey. Whether it's the
list of items needed at the market, the information needed to
complete a task, or the way we feel concerning a previous
interaction, what we need to hear from another needs to be heard in
right ways. What they need to convey needs to be said in right ways.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And right there at the birth of the
conveyance ----- we can see four ways it can go.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Two are positive: it was said
accurately and it was heard accurately.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Two are negative: it was said wrongly
and it was heard wrongly.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then consider the crazy that comes when
perhaps it was said right, but heard wrong..................</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Add in the timing, tone, facial
expressions of the speaker ------- and then timing, mood, and
previous interactions of the day for the listener, and you have more
levels of multiple options for negative or positive understanding.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bottom-line reality is -------- there
is one right way to communicate and one right way to hear ------ and
if either of these is “off” then, clouds come close and collision
is likely.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some might want to click delete now. I
totally get that. The thinking that says, “Good grief it's just too
hard and i'm already tired from all life's other pressures. There's
no way I can win. Why even try?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But oh let's reign in that runaway
horse and remind it of who is in the saddle.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The phrase, “There's no way I can
win”, is a BIG reveal and we must keep it exposed and defeated.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Winning isn't wonderful when alone is
attached to it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And if someone else had to endure the
emotional-lightening of about a billion volts, they're not going to
want to keep standing close to the one who keeps delivering the
impact.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Winning matters in war and the
Olympics. One wins, all others lose.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Winning in relational interactions can
only be accomplished with two or more winners. No losers are allowed
on the field.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Every divorce i've ever heard of meant
that one had demanded they had to “win” OR that one was exhausted
from being forced to lose. That's when marriage looks more like war
than love.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And even if the “one” thinks
they've finally found a way to win, in the end, there's so much
rumbling thunder in the skies, the damage done will take years to
repair if reparation is even possible. Sometimes “winning” is the
worst thing that can happen.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Winning and losing is the wrong goal in
relationship. It's right for a world-war ------ but wrong in a home.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And <u><b>communication is the key that
turns the lock one way or the other.</b></u> It will either unlock
what had been locked up tight, or it will lock up what had previously
been open.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Communication. Is. So. Important.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In 1967, Dr. Albert Mehrabian and Susan
Ferris conducted 2 studies of 30 females trying to determine the
correlation between verbal and non-verbal communication. They wanted
to determine which weighs in heavier? Which carries less impact? The
results of their study have been widely shared and wrongly
communicated.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Interesting.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A study on communication being
w-r-o-n-g-l-y communicated. Gotta grin, don't we?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He's famous (much to his chagrin) for
the 7-38-55 theory. Broken down the study implied 93% of
communication is non-verbal. His theory proposed the breakdown as: 7%
being verbal, 38% vocal (tone), and 55% visual (expression).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But wait. All this could come from two
studies with 30 females?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And yet, can we remove the numbers and
percentages and look at the realities they expose.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We might walk away with gold in hand.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
How someone says what they say is much
more impactful than the actual words they use. Don't we already know
this?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I can say, “I love you”, with a
hawk look in my eye ------- and it can become a scary string of
words.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Or I can say, “I love you” with
gentle eyes, leaning forward, arms uncrossed and it becomes a safe,
kind string of words. Add to the words the prior actions that
validate the words and the communication can land without
complications. As long as the “runway” is clear of debris.
Because the receiver either has or does not have the ability to
“hear” and believe.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No matter how expertly a pilot is able
to land the plane, if the runway has been bombed and boulders cover
it ------- the plane can not land.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So ------ communication requires both
the giver and the receiver to allow goodness and kindness and what is
upright to land between them.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
What is upright will bring a rightness
to the space between them ----- no voltage ------ no winners or
losers. Just both parties bringing the desire for good to fill the
space.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's not easy.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's actually immensely difficult.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Add in the reality that there is an
enemy that wants healthy relationships to fail. That enemy wants to
isolate, and separate, and make people feel alone.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So ------ what am I driving at?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Relationships are pre-determined to
struggle. There are at least a billion ways it can go wrong ---- as
each bolt of lightening can deliver that many volts ------ so each
string of words can bring lethal damage if not carefully handled.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Therefore ----- to know the seriousness
of each communication ---- to “think about how we think” about
communication ---- to begin the work of crafting our words, gestures,
facial expressions, and actions as if we're intentionally painting
our own private Sistine Chapel. Every stroke of Michelangelo's brush
was intentional. He never once could allow a messy, careless slinging
of paint.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Intentionality............. so what is
created is beautiful.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Intentionality.............because what
could be lost would cause all to lose.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Intentionality.............in word,
gesture, facial expression, action, and motive.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Intentionality.............since all
the world is aching to see goodness actually win.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Intentional .............. to remember
that everyone who catches a glimpse of the-authentic-beautiful might
be willing to try and carefully put paint to brush on their own
relationship-canvas.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For this to actually happen we must
lean away from the wild-card-ways and careless-words flung around in
this limping world. And remember ------- the One who created us knows
the best way through the landmine of communication in relationships.
He said, “Be kind. Be gentle. Be patient. Consider the interest of
others. Love one another.” It's sprinkled all in God's Holy Words.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And isn't Jesus the ultimate example of
intentional living. Wow! 30 years of waiting.........3 years of
ministry........... knowing His death and resurrection would be
needed. He was, is, and will always be the way. The truth.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Considering the reality that there are
about a billion ways communication can fall short ------- it compels
me all the more to hold tight to His robe, walk at His pace, do what
He says, and “speak” carefully (using words when needed).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We must face the reality ----- that the
odds are against us ----- but there is ONE who is forever, faithfully
for us.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Run your race, speak carefully, hold
the Robe.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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Imagine ----- this is what flooded
through my heart before my feet touched the floor this morning.</div>
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No wonder I grab coffee and His word
before the sun slides over the horizon. :)</div>
<br />Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-58355609140823299482019-03-11T22:45:00.002-07:002019-03-12T04:22:08.585-07:00Dwell in the Shelter of the Most High, Rest in the Shadow of the Almighty<style type="text/css">
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Dwelling in Your shelter, resting in
Your shadow.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Is it real? Is it possible? Or are
those just words printed on ancient pages spoken long ago by a clever
king?</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>“He who dwells in the shelter of the
most high will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.”</i></div>
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<i>Psalm 91:1</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When the hard days roll 'round, we've
got to have something we hold on to.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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So i say to myself, ---- “donna,
where are you dwelling?”</div>
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It's a simple, hugely important
question. Where are you dwelling ? Mentally?
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>I've learned that where i'm dwelling
physically doesn't matter nearly as much as where i'm dwelling
mentally.........</b> <b>spiritually.........emotionally.</b>
</div>
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Took me years to get that piece settled
in my bones.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Truth is, where i'm dwelling physically
can even end up being a distraction from where I need to be dwelling
mentally.
</div>
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Remove all the wonderfulness of being
in a comfortable place. Go through the personal “fire” of letting
go of all that you thought mattered so much. Lay down the house, the
stuff, the familiar wonderfulness of all you've nested up around you
-------- lay it all down and go to an uncomfortable, unfamiliar place
and if we let Him ----- He will show us Himself in ways we might
never have seen Him in that nest of comfortable.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
That laying down can happen in about a
million different ways. No one way is more powerful or important than
the other. What's important is that we allow it to come to us.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Look around you and you'll find so many
souls who have refused to lay down their life.</div>
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They will not consider it ----- because
maybe it makes absolutely no sense to them. That's only because they
haven't yet let themselves feel the touch of His hand or heard His
still small voice saying, “Come away with me.”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's ok. It's not that they are bad or
even selfish. It's mostly that they don't know how to get from where
they are to the place He can take them. It's that they don't know how
and they haven't been brought to the place where they “let go”
and “let Him” do what only He can do.</div>
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And maybe they're wildly afraid of even
considering it.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I wasted so many years pointing my
fingers at others. If you're one of those dear souls I pointed at
---- you likely never knew it ---- I was a closet pointer. Pointing
at others with a criticalness that only reflected my own ugly heart
of frustration towards myself. I knew I couldn't get from where I was
“dwelling” to where I wanted to be -------- so I pointed at
others who weren't there yet either.
</div>
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What an exhausting, ugly way of
half-living.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Then the good One began reworking me
from the inside out. He began pulling my “nest” apart long before
He moved me out of the home where I perched. Abba began shifting my
thoughts. I asked Him to. I profoundly remember sitting on my front
porch with a blanket wrapped around me on a cold winter morning and
saying, “Fix me Lord. I'm not who you call me to be, i'm not who I
want to be. I'm not who my family needs me to be, i'm wasting time on
lesser things, when surely You had more in mind.” Nothing actually
happened in that moment, but something began to move. I kept knocking
and asking for help from Him.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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I had to come to the end of myself. My
ways.
</div>
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I was “dwelling” in places that
were consuming me.
</div>
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Imagine that. We people can live in a
type of symbiotic existence with our mental/emotional nests of
comfort. It supplies us with a place to lay our thoughts ------ while
we provide it (un-alive as it is) with our devoted presence.
</div>
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My mental, emotional, and physical
energies were focused on levels of living that spoke more of “this
world” than they did of “the shelter of the Most High”.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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There are three types of souls reading
this.
</div>
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Those who get it, because the same
Daddy-God has opened their eyes to it.
</div>
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Those who have no idea what i'm talking
about and probably haven't even read this far.
</div>
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And those who are aching over the
realization that they no longer want to remain in the
mental/emotional/physical nest they've worked so hard to create
around them.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The first group ---- i'm hugging you on
your good (albeit hard) journey.</div>
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The second group ---- i'm literally
praying for you as I pen these words ---- you've got a storm coming
that will scoot you towards the next group. I pray you make it all
the way to the the first group.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The third group ----- oh don't feel
alone in the Holy shift. If you'll hang in there for the climb,
you're about to get to step into places you never imagined possible.
Places of freedom (and loss), where you can breathe deeply and lay
many things down. A place where you understand more, have less
confusion, where you'll see and you'll care, you'll no longer judge
and compare. But it's not an easy climb. Moving is always hard.
Always.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>“The one who dwells in the shelter of
the most High, will rest in the shadow of the Almighty”</i>--- eat
every morsel of those words.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We simply can not dwell in God's
shelter and remain in our own place. We've got to be willing to let
Him move us w-h-e-r-e-v-e-r He wants to.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Over and over again I hear people say
things like, “Oh I love God with all my heart ---- but I could
never go.............. and do...............” and I get it. Who
chooses to free-fall into the unknown? I'd guess a very small
percentage of people would choose it. But, many of us just knew we
couldn't live without it.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
----- we are living a half-faith-life
if we can say with one breath, “I love the Lord with all my heart”
----- and then insist on having it our (human-self) way. The two
pieces can never fit side-by-side. The two pieces can exist in the
same life ------- but they are not connected. It produces a divided
way of living.</div>
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<br /></div>
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That's the painful reality.</div>
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<br /></div>
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It's what so many people who have
stepped away from the church say they have seen. Seeing the church
say one thing ----- but living another thing. And oh God help us all
----- haven't we Christians done it so poorly. I have. But may it not
be so now.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If I want to “dwell in the shelter of
the most High”, I must not insist on living in another shelter (one
that i've created and one i can manage). My emotional, mental,
spiritual dwelling must be in the place He is found.
</div>
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And oh the goodness that when ---- I
move to that shelter ------ I can breathe “in the shadow of the
Almighty”.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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Is this making sense?
</div>
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I'm not talking about the physical
place we lay our heads down and call our home.
</div>
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I'm talking about the mental place we
let our thoughts lay down in.
</div>
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We can live in a palace and our
mental/emotional thoughts dwell in the gutter. Likewise, we can live
in a dirt-floor-room and our mental/emotional thoughts dwell in a
sanctuary.
</div>
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We people too often think that if a
person is living in a fine mansion, then they are “doing well”.
But that's only the physical appearance of things. They might
actually be the “poor” that are in need of the most. The other
side of that coin tries to tell us the person living in a hut with no
modern luxuries is “in need”. But again, that's only the physical
appearance of things. They might actually be “dwelling in the
shelter of the most High”. It all depends on where their heart and
mind are centered.
</div>
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Jesus never owned a home on this earth
------ and yet He was and is the King. His mind was centered solely
on the Father. Jesus dwelled in the shelter of the Most High.</div>
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<br /></div>
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God speaks this soundly to my soul.
</div>
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I've had to learn it over and over
again.
</div>
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I was willing to care for the one
without food or water or shelter ---- because I could easily “see”
their “need”.</div>
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But I was brutally blind to the one
living in opulent wealth who was grievously poor in heart. So wrong
donna.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Last Sunday we went up on the side of a
mountain in Kenya to speak at a remote church. The old me would have
been troubled over their obvious “needs”. It's hard work to
resist that old-self. But God let me see something precious --- it
was a reminder again.</div>
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There was a beautiful little girl
running around with an old, worn baby-doll held tightly to her back.
It was ragged and dirty. She held it to her back as if she was a
Kenyan-momma. I watched her for so long. She was happy. Bouncing
about with a worn doll on her back, wearing a torn dress, and I
thought to myself of the challenges I knew she would have to face in
the years ahead living on this mountainside.
</div>
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My thoughts wanted to “dwell” in
the wrong places ----- places that were not “<i>in the shelter of the
most High</i>”. My mind began its old way of thinking. “donna, the
least you can do is buy this precious little girl a new doll. You
need to send one back up this mountain to her. She needs a new dress
too........ and then............”
</div>
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<br /></div>
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But i've learned .....</div>
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So I grabbed those thoughts and held
them up to the One who adores her most.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And He whispered so sweetly to my
heart, <i>“She is thrilled with her tattered baby-doll. Someone loved
her enough to give her a doll they were able to provide for her. Look
at her eyes. They sparkle. She has no idea you are watching her. I'm
letting you SEE her. Stop looking with wrong eyes. If you try and
make 'things' better, according to your standards ------- then you
will silently convey that how she is living is not good enough and
how her hard-working parents have provided for her is not sufficient.
And you'll teach her to define poverty wrongly. Truth is, she
sparkles. She is not actually poor in My eyes. Remember how many
other children you've seen surrounded by too many dolls and things of
that sort who were not sparkling at all. They were pouting over
wanting even more. See with My eyes donna, those who have so much are
so often the poor. This little darling will have needs all her life,
and you have your part in helping her, but it has nothing to do with
the ragged, torn doll she happily carries on her back. Do the part I,
God, call you to do. Stop letting your thoughts 'dwell' in the wrong
places ---- 'Dwell in the shelter where I am, rest in My shadow
there.' Follow MY lead. I will guide you. You can not do My work ----
your way. It won't work. But dwell close to Me and I will give you
rest as you do My work My way.”</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The only way to live from the place of
His shelter, and rest in the place of peace found in His shadow
------------ is to turn my eyes always to what He says matters most
to Him.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The world will not understand it. The
world will even be critical of it. But the One who is our Shelter
will let us rest in His shadow ----------- even as we <u>put our
hands to the work needed</u> in this broken world <u>again and again
and again</u>.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><br />
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>But this world Lord</i>........ in this
world.......</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When babies are being slaughtered
inside the womb --------- we must stay focused on the One who always
reaches for them.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When babies are rejected out of the
womb (abortion) and lay crying in their struggle to live (surviving
abortion)-------- I must stay focused on the One who hears their cry
and <b>gathers them up in His good arms</b>.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When 'little'-power-hungry-people pass
laws that feed a fallen world ----- I must not focus on them (the
people or the laws), I must focus on the One who sees it all and will
deal with those who are corrupt.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When a “preacher” says things that
are NOT in God's Word ----- I must stay steady in saying
what is in line with God's heart (and His Word).
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When eyes are diverted and focused on
lesser things ---- (I must remember my own tendency to do the same)
------ and choose carefully to see with His eyes what my
distracted-eyes will miss.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When criticisms and/or accusations
come------ I must remember ----- I have a Defender who says, “Get
in My shadow daughter, i'll handle this MY WAY.”
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The one who dwells in the shelter of
the Most High, will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.”
</div>
<br />Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-135521430681882682019-02-27T02:15:00.001-08:002019-02-27T02:15:21.276-08:00Living Held
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I've always loved the image of an older
person walking with a young toddler. Neither of them are rushing. The
former has learned the value of slowing down. The latter has not yet
learned how to go quickly.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Let yourself picture it. They're both
looking down, they each have a feebleness to their gait. When one
looks at the other, they each smile. They neither really focus on
where they are going, but they both are just enjoying not being
alone. Melts me as I picture it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Their pace is perfectly matched yet
from two different perspectives. And in their slow walk together the
young one has a chance to learn. The elder one feels the gift of
being needed.They bring much to each other. They laugh and look and
bend down low to see something that would have been missed if either
had been in a hurry.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's been just such a walk that i've
experienced. Left alone, I would have only seen a troublesome pebble.
But walking beside the One who was willing to keep a slower pace,
Holy moments have shown up and i've learned.... I can better see the
diamond in the rough.... i've learned.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's not that i've been trying to
become holy. Just as the toddler walking with the elder-one is not
trying to become an old sage. Nor is the elder trying to become young
again like the toddler. It's simply that by spending time together on
an unhurried path, they will see and learn things they would have
missed if they'd been walking alone.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Most all my life, regardless of my age,
i've felt like a “toddler”. It's not that I feel perpetually 2
years old, it's only that I embrace the sense of “there's so much I
don't know, there's so much still to learn”. Somehow my heart and
mind have a propensity to look for the wiser, older, kinder,
stronger, slower paced, sparkling “teachers”. Some might be bored
senseless over it, but there's nothing more entertaining or
intriguing than wise words and timeless stories told by someone who
has lived well and out lasted life's storms. To say it's fascinating
is an understatement.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In retrospect, there are also few
conversations sadder than those with an old person who has not lived
well, not learned much, and left a trail of void in their wake. So to
be clear, not all older people can be counted as wise. The overflow
of their life will determine how much they should be heard. Another
way to say it is, look at the result of their choices in life before
listening to their stories and trying to learn from their example.
Perhaps that seems obvious, but, it's worth clarifying. Because there
are too many people who think they earn a badge simply because
they've lived several decades. And we're surrounded by a world of
young people who have been wounded by older people who were not good
to them. Sadly, there are those images in their minds of being the
toddler walking beside the older person being drug along in rushed,
harsh ways ------ there were no gentle moments of kind-paced-living.
Those are some of the most wounded adults around us. When an older
person is harsh with a child, it breaks much.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
That being said ------- when we find a
wonderful old soul who has lived well, we are wise to scoot up our
chairs and listen close. Wisdom compels us to walk at their pace for
as long as they will let us.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm thinking it's part of the Maker's
plan. After all, He is the One who decided we would be born as babies
and grow towards being old. He could have chosen the opposite. We
could have been born wrinkly and old only to progress towards youth.
Certainly if that had been the course of life, we would appreciate
the health and energy of youth much more. But why is it that all too
often we don't embrace the pace and wisdom of the wise elderly souls
among us? Do we? Perhaps you do. I hope so. Still, it's fair to say,
that all too often they seem to be swept to the side, and viewed
through rushed lenses and can't-you-go-faster sort of ways.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Did you catch that last sentence? Too
often we view the elderly through “rushed lenses”. The very
mannerisms that wound a toddler will also wound the older souls.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sitting in the airport is one of the
best places to “see” things a bit more clearly. Perhaps it can
happen because we don't actually know the people we're watching. If
we'll try, we have a chance to see much about them without knowing
any of the details of their life. The way they interact, the look on
their faces, the way they sit. And i've learned something in my
non-judgmental observations. It's the toddlers and the elderly that
are the-most-beautiful-people. Certainly, there are many kind-souls
found among the people in between the young and the old. But casual
observations have repeatedly conveyed to me ----- the one's who know
they have no control over their setting, are the one's who are the
gentlest and kindest. The toddler being held in her daddy's arms is
not rushing or worried, she's holding her stuffed animal and looking
at the passing faces. She's literally looking to see if anyone sees
her. When she notices my smiling eyes are on her, she smiles
the-most-peace-filled-response. Her good daddy didn't know his girl
was scattering gifts as they rushed to their gate. I needed her
precious smile. She gave it with perfection.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just after them came two old people in
wheelchairs being pushed along by airport attendants. It was a him
and her duo with flowing robes and a red dot painted on their
foreheads. I instantly knew they believed differently than me in
their souls, but still I was watching for something. They were quiet
in their wheelchair procession. Again, just like the little girl
being carried by here daddy, these two were also being cared for by
others. They didn't have to rush or worry ----- <u>someone else was
doing the work for them</u>. That's a major factor not to be
overlooked. Still, as their loaded down wheelchairs passed in front
of my gate, the lady turned her kind face in my direction and gave me
a smile that was a faint whisper of my sweet grandmother's sparkle.
My responding smile brought a broad smile across her aged skin and
right there ---- in the wild rush of people ---- she and I felt the
touch of “goodness”.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And nothing that happened the rest of
that day was as beautiful as those two “touches”.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If I had looked for a smile from the 40
something year old lady sitting across from me, I would possibly
still be waiting. Oh i'm not slamming her. It's just that, somehow
too many of us get off the good course in the years between
learning-to-walk and no-longer-able-to. We lose something so
valuable.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Maybe it's only me...... maybe i'm the
only one who notices all that I seem to inherently overlook. If so,
then this writing is only of value in that now you all know ---- i'm
finally seeing what you've known all along.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But the sharing of it can still be of
value I hope. Because as I walk down the street in most any place,
it's always the little and the old that seem to know the most. There
are no words exchanged usually, only a nod, a smile, and a kindness
given. The world misses it so often. I've missed it for too long.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When lonely is stalking about, it'll be
the little carefree toddler (who is being cared for by loving
parents) who, without a word, reaches clear through the wall of
lonely and shifts things.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When worry is breathing down a tired
backbone, it'll be the elderly soul (who has lived well and passed
through much) who, without even an ounce of power, can give a short
string of solid-rock words that strengthen marrow and broaden
shoulders. Sometimes they can do it with just a nod and a knowing
look. It's an amazing gift from “the One who rides across the
heavens to help us, across the skies in majestic splendor”. <i>(Deut.
33:26) </i><span style="font-style: normal;">And catch this ---
whether they know He is using them or not --- HE still will. (If God
could make a donkey talk.......... He can flow through anyone.)</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then I sit in the
quiet and ponder --- studying it --- as if i'm preparing for a final
exam not on my calendar. And i see something tucked inside of value
to my soul.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a whispering
from the Good One. He will speak to His children who are still enough
to remember who HE is and all that they are not.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It comes like a
blanket on a cold windy day. As He lays it on my shivering shoulders,
He whispers to my heart ------</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>The ones who are carried well,
respond well. </i>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It's the ones willing to be carried
well that are willing to respond well.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It's the ones who let Me, God, carry
them, that will always be able to respond well.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It's the ones who know they can not
do 'it', the one's who know they need My help, the one's who rely on
me to carry them ----- they are the one's who are able to respond
well.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>They show up, they hold on, they sit
where I tell them to and trust Me to get them to the right places ---
they rest in My shadow, tucked under My wing ----- they have eyes to
see and a smile to give because they know they are carried by the One
who knows the way.” (Psalm 91:1&4)</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh good Lord.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's so very true.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
You are ever
willing to carry me as if i'm a toddler in your good-Daddy arms. You
will carry me the full distance, I need only to stop squirming and
worrying and fretting. Too often i've forced you to sit me down in my
unruly lack of trust or refusal to let you h-o-l-d m-e. Oh God i'm
seeing. I'm learning, The picture of the smiling toddler in her
good-daddy's arms IS the picture You desire for You and me. Always.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm held.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
You know the way.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And I can look
around at all that we pass ---- giving to others a spark of the
goodness that comes from being held by You.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And the elderly
ones being pushed along in the wheelchairs, glowing over the knowing
that others have the work of getting them to their gates ----- that's
suppose to be “us” too isn't it Lord?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
You are willing to
let me rest while your walk with me through the hills and valleys of
this life. You will do the work, I only need to remain in the seat
you give me. I'm not doing “nothing”, but i'm not doing it all.
You are. I can rest in Your presence. I can not rest apart from it.
It's the lovely picture of “Be still and know that I AM GOD.”
(Psalm 46:10)</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Whether I like the
chair where you've placed me or not is where so often the
s-t-r-u-g-g-l-e begins.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As if I know
something more than you do.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The toddler doesn't
question --- she's not asking her daddy if he's sure he knows what
he's doing. She actually won't even notice if he messes up. She just
rides along in his arms.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Forgive me for
being a squirming one.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
To trust that You
will carry me is either a truth in my life or not ----- and I need to
quit faking it if it is not. Likewise, I need to rest in it if it is
the Truth. I cause so many problems with my squirming thoughts.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We grown-up kids
seem to think we are able to do something of value.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">But if
we're not being carried by the Good-Daddy-God ----- we're destined to
mess up whatever we think we can do. Mess up in the sense of ----
it'll only be base-line acceptable at best. But it won't be touched
by the Holy One who will bring the excellence – the goodness –
the i-never-imagined-that-was-possible essence to whatever we're
putting hand to. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It'll be
sufficient, maybe, but it won't be what it could have been.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The toddler's smile
went to a secret place in my soul, as did the elderly ladies.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
They trusted that
they were being c-a-r-r-i-e-d, they were not worried over the
details, they were able to see and do much from their
cared-for-perch.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh Father ----
whether i'm cooking dinner, teaching a class, praying on my knees or
scrubbing something clean ----- no matter what i'm putting my hands
to ------ please Lord ----- help me to remember this lesson from you
------- You are willing to carry me, You are willing to carry us all
---- and You know the way, You know the best way, we need only to be
still in your arms and let the world around us see in our eyes
------- and receive in our smile ------ we are held and YOU ARE
GOOD....... always.......
</div>
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<br />Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-87004690077866425632018-10-26T02:12:00.000-07:002018-10-26T11:27:30.445-07:00I will remember...again<style type="text/css">
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's 16 days before we board a flight
with our last remaining things and fly back home to America. This
flight is profoundly different that all other flights before it. This
time ------ we're going home.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Going home doesn't mean we stop
working. It doesn't mean we're finished. Retirement isn't a word in
our personal vocabulary. So what does it mean?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It means our borders are expanding in a
new direction. One that will let us be present for family and friends
as well as be more available for those needing renewal and
rebooting. We're so thankful to know we already have 3 missionary
couples lined up for soul-care beginning in December. Makes my heart
gush.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Imagine it.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
5 ½ years ago my eyes could not stop
leaking......... moving to the mission field was no small thing. It
opened flood gates of tears.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now 5 ½ years later my heart is
gushing over the fullness of all that has taken place and all that is
still to come. I know much is ahead. How can I be so sure? Because I
also know that what has happened these last few years did not come as
a result of <i>me</i>. It came from the One who is ever able; the
One who knows what is needed and can deliver with perfection. Without
a doubt ---- HE still knows the way forward and there's
peace that He is writing the script.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm doing the steady work of processing
it all out carefully. That's my part. I'm not trying to lean into the
GOD-part. <b>His part is huge.</b>
</div>
<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mine is simply this: <i>Pray, listen, remember, </i>
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>prepare, focus,
respond, </i>
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Praise Him</i>!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's my heart's desire (and my job
under Him) to encourage. This I know. Oh what peace comes in just
knowing.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Encourage the dear Kenyan's through
teaching truth and fostering healthy upward growth.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Encourage girls who aren't quite sure
why they were born and what the world says to them.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Encourage ladies who have been wounded
but they still want to love others and live loved.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Encourage couples who are brave enough
to say “Yes” to each other <u>and</u> the path of being His
servants in hard places.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Encourage parents to help their
children grow-up-in-God, because they will face a hard world on their
own someday.</div>
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Encourage through writing..... for
those who want it on pages.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My heart is gushing for sure. It's
intimidating, but in a good way. Years ago it would have doubled me
over and sent me to a corner. But oh, i've been taught so much in the
midst of flames that burn off what's fluffy and soft. There's more to
learn (there'll always be more to learn). Still i'm so thankful for
the hard courses the Teacher has guided me through thus far.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Today i'm able to click pause for a few
hours and remember. Glance again at what is my part:
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><i>Pray, listen,
remember, prepare, focus, respond, praise Him</i>!</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I wish I could show it in the
circle/cycle way it rests inside me. It's basically a wheel image.
Where “praise Him” appears to be at the end, it's actually not.
It's always followed by “pray”. It is ever on repeat. It speaks
of constant movement even if i'm sitting still. It's an internal
motion that's good.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
To <i>pray</i> is to acknowledge, “I
need You Lord! (in everything), and so i'm coming to you over all
things.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
To<i> listen</i> is the still that's
needed inside and outside, the proving that “it's not my activity
that makes things happen rightly, it will be Your guidance that leads
me forward”. It requires self-control and heart-ears-opened. It's
shutting out the noise of world and self, and connecting to the
wonder of that still-small-voice. It's the whisper of the faithful
One inside us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
To <i>remember</i> is the faith
building part. It's the living-out of Psalm 77:11-12, <i>“I will
remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of
long ago. I will consider all your works and meditate on all your
might deeds.” </i><span style="font-style: normal;">Remembering the
parting and closing of the Red Sea... remembering the burning bush
moment... remembering a baby born to a virgin destined for a cross...
remembering the veil torn from top to bottom... remembering that a
donkey spoke (and even he could speak truth)... remembering an ark
and a rainbow and an empty tomb. Remembering the touch of His robe
brought her healing... There's so much to remember that builds faith.
And I also remember all He has done in my personal life. I remember
who I was, who I am still capable of being, and who He invites me to
be in His hands. I remember the dark nights i've pleaded with Him and
the sureness of the coming sunrise. I remember the innumerable times
there has been no way forward unless He does what only He is able to
do ----- and He does it. I remember the moments I knew “death”
was in front of me, and He stepped between us. I remember and it
breathes courage in. Remembering is also a quiet, still time before
the good One. Oh the value of being still with Him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I'm
remembering, as I prepare for these 16 days ahead. I'm remembering
His faithfulness over these past 5 ½ years. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I'll
never be able to share it all. It's a miracle really. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I'm
moving back home, but i'm ever-changed.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Steve
and I have 16 more sleeps on this side of the world before we board a
plane (on my birthday no less) and feel again the sensation of a
lift-off that others on the plane won't be feeling. And mostly all I
can do in moments like that is sit in quiet amazement. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I look
at my journal entries, going all the way back to 16 days before we
left home and felt the lift-off that would carry us to life in Kenya.
I remember well those days and I want to go back and hug that lady
who penned out her heart. She was leaning into the wind of obedience
and giving it all she had. But good-grief, she was so aware of her
sorrow and need. She was honest with ink. Imagine it. She knew she
was obeying the One who made her, yet she still felt profoundly weak.
Think of a person preparing to run a triathlon who's also hooked up
to IV fluids. I remember how i'd cry out to God saying, “You do
know YOU are the One who has to do this. You are aware that I can not
do this. You realize this is all YOU, right Lord?” (It's in my
journal.... it was real.) And He again was faithful.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">16
days before we departed for Kenya, I was helping my daughter and
sister make pretty little pink and brown burlap flowers for Maggie's
wedding which would take place 5 days before we departed. Sitting at
my dear sister's dining room table we laughed and worked (and
sometimes cried) out all the details of planning a wedding and moving
to Kenya. It was a lovely time. It was a gut-wrenching time. And now
I sit 16 days before departing from Kenya and flying back home.... 10
days of intense teaching is complete (10 more teaching days will
begin next week), final exam given this morning, we'll go visit a
woefully sick little girl today and carry desperately needed things
to her and her family in a slum nearby. If we had never come, we
would have missed so much that is in His heart. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">And
--- we'll return home changed.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">We've
seen and smelled and heard and felt much that could never let a
person stay the same.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I've
been held in the arms of strong Kenyan women who have scars. I
thought I was suppose to hold them in my arms..... but they were so
quick to hold me. I've seen strong American women care so deeply for
them and for me, and do the best they could to reach for us all. The
flow of His heart through them, it's overwhelmed me body and soul.
I've had Kenyan ladies inspire me and American ladies compel me
forward. I've watched Kenyan girls flounder in the grip of cruelty,
and found courage to enter the arena with them. They don't
necessarily want to be “rescued”, they really just want to be
able to believe they are loved and they can rise above. THAT is a
miracle to see. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Heaven
is the place of rescue. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Heaven
will come for everyone who carries Christ inside them. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Facing
the realness of a hard world makes us know --- we can not rescue
anyone really. But we can carry His love to them. It's no small
thing. It's the right way. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Love
God – Love others. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDA2WntA83syrlhk8HyIkCXu9-zlwlWD2Hx-4XgusXYGRC1mWWhzBLcmR1vBxtF8Cfn3U6vNWuR5v2xBezAYk1-gRn1Quv3hcGI6FLFFqBbQtCw5OLJvgcYVBwTmN6Keg7Gqd1AHJbz2T/s1600/IMG_1258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDA2WntA83syrlhk8HyIkCXu9-zlwlWD2Hx-4XgusXYGRC1mWWhzBLcmR1vBxtF8Cfn3U6vNWuR5v2xBezAYk1-gRn1Quv3hcGI6FLFFqBbQtCw5OLJvgcYVBwTmN6Keg7Gqd1AHJbz2T/s320/IMG_1258.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">It's
the stepping stones that lead to the moment of relief. The moment of
release. The moment when we will, in Christ, step out of this broken
world and into His HOME. That's the place of rescue. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">But
that can only happen --- true “rescue” can only come ---- after
HIS LOVE has entered in and they are able to see that nothing can
separate them from His love. WE CAN rise above whatever surrounds us
because HE HAS entered into that place with us.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">It is
in the remembering, we are compelled to prepare (for what is
next)...... to focus (on that assignment)........respond (in the way
He guides)....... and praise Him again and again, because we know
it's all His.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">His
journey (being lived out in us).</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">His
plan (being worked out through us).</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">His
heart (being guided in our own).</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">And
His love (that brings the Light). </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Without
His love --- darkness overwhelms. Mansion or slum, in wealth or
poverty --- without the entrance of His love, darkness keeps the
light shut out.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I've
learned so much (in a hard classroom) these 5 ½ years. Perhaps, this
reality is at the top of the long list. It's been learned at a deeper
place found only in the guts of a heart that's been broken and
restored.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<i>If I speak in the tongues of men
or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or
clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all
mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move
mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.............”(1 Cor.
13:1-2)</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This restored heart
is gushing over the joy of what's ahead.
</div>
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HE authors it all. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Aren't we all so thankful for that?</div>
<br />Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-88333334845488044372018-10-12T10:00:00.001-07:002018-10-12T10:00:41.417-07:00The Camino De Santiago - Tiny and Weak works for HIM
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
How can He possibly be so attentive and caring? While He sits enthroned in the heavenlies, is praised without end
by creation, commands the angel armies ----- He still gives focused
care to His soul-carrying little ones. Little ones....... that's us
friend.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Little.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It seems the older I get the better i'm
able to grasp just how infinitely tiny I am. So little. When we stand
beside the great oceans, we feel our smallness (and don't we love that feeling). When we look at the
massive size of the mountains, we know. We are specs in a massive
universe.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Camino De Santiago is a path often
called The Way of St. James. It stretches from the western corner of
France all the way across the country of Spain ending at the far
western town of Fisterra. Ages ago most people believed Fisterra,
Spain to the the edge of the world. They thought if you sailed past
Fisterra's immense ocean horizon, you would fall off the world.
Remembering history class helps us put it in place. Columbus believed
the world was round while most everyone else thought it to be flat.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Steve and I have just completed the 29
day journey of biking (and on the biggest hills, walking) the Camino
De Santiago. I've never felt so tiny and needy in all my life.
Everyday we prayed as the sun came up, literally saying, “Father we
need you again. We're so needy of You.” Our fifty-something- selves
felt overwhelmed at the daily task of biking another 20+ miles day
after day after day. Muscles we didn't remember we had came alive
again ----- and they ached as they woke up. It was a struggle to put
away the wish for comfortable and familiar. But for almost 2 decades
we had wanted to travel this path the apostle James had carved out on
his missionary journey to a very pagan people. The goodness of God
and the teaching of Jesus had never crossed those huge mountains and
flat plains. All they had were other lesser gods, created by people
in an effort to reach for something greater. When James arrived, they
had never heard the Truth, they did not know the Way, they had no
hope for the future. To walk (bike) that ancient path was an
experience I will likely spend the rest of my days processing.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpci5HBXgzFKnj1EFRs00BqU_mbUIK2dkICC3qMZnmLWM1CULcNoFRojDT6jCdRbRMoLWv0IVk4EnbHowHciWiFUHpJ8qyJUWhg2gBD-U50DU-6XCJ55AOoNmhhmZRneIKOsDJuPp9pkMC/s1600/IMG_2676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1371" data-original-width="1100" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpci5HBXgzFKnj1EFRs00BqU_mbUIK2dkICC3qMZnmLWM1CULcNoFRojDT6jCdRbRMoLWv0IVk4EnbHowHciWiFUHpJ8qyJUWhg2gBD-U50DU-6XCJ55AOoNmhhmZRneIKOsDJuPp9pkMC/s320/IMG_2676.JPG" width="256" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It is the "smallest" i've ever felt. It
was right.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Every morning we asked for His help. We
knew we couldn't cover the ground in front of us if He did not go
before us. Every evening we asked for His help. We knew we wouldn't
find a place to lay our heads if He didn't provide. Every night we
asked for His help. We knew our sleep would only come if He gave us
the gift of rest. We knew we could not do the Camino if God did not
do it through us.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I looked at other pilgrims, the term
used for everyone traversing the Way, and wondered if they too knew
their inability, or was it just me that felt so profoundly unable? At
least 2 dozen times I wanted to turn in my mountain bike and get a
bus to the airport. Not kidding. But inside me there was this urging,
like an invitation, “Come, do this with Me”. It was yet another
experience of knowing that if I did not do this, I would have to
answer for it when I stood before Him on that great judgement day. So
I talked long with the Father. We talked through all the reasons why
I wanted to give up. He spoke so clearly to my heart. Here's a
sampling of some of our talks during the 500+ miles I peddled across
Spain.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iX5gKphTeOkkXBuZO8g2GBbkpIuA5kr4yjGB73fRdCscykmbFEmiueNIXXL1G3qSvLTbn1t20DwPSFkS4FKIJFpZr5mhyxQN4Vr1QlG0yqia7z7rUyf465QmEA7OrH1x7hPAiXiia1gR/s1600/IMG_2552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iX5gKphTeOkkXBuZO8g2GBbkpIuA5kr4yjGB73fRdCscykmbFEmiueNIXXL1G3qSvLTbn1t20DwPSFkS4FKIJFpZr5mhyxQN4Vr1QlG0yqia7z7rUyf465QmEA7OrH1x7hPAiXiia1gR/s320/IMG_2552.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me: Now God, you know there are about a
hundred other things I need to be doing right now...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Abba: None of those things will please
me as much as you spending these miles with me.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me: But God, don't you think people are
going to think i'm indulging in a month long sabbatical?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Abba: If they do, that's between me and
them. Focus on what I think donna. I'm your Defender.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me: But God, what about our wonderful
supporters? People who give so generously every month so we can obey
Your call and serve others?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Abba: Those supporters give because I,
God, stir their hearts to do so. Their support is about Me and what
I'm doing through you, it's not about you and what you think you're
doing for Me. They are giving to Me ----- not you.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me: But what if we get hurt doing this
Lord? You know there are so many things that could mess-us-up on this
journey...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Abba: Do you trust me or not?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me: I want to do this Abba, I really
do. But i'd rather have a bunch of friends with us. It would feel so
much safer and we'd all have so much fun.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Abba: I'm jealous for you.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me: Will you use this journey?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Abba: I already am.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me: Did James know all the ways you
would use his obedience?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Abba: He didn't know then. He knows
now.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me: Is it right that I feel so
immensely small and useless?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Abba: I've been waiting patiently for
you to feel this way. I can use a tiny daughter.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And so it went, on and on, day after
day. I'd speak out my heart (no hiding allowed), and He would
respond. Scripture flooded my mind. I'd cry and the wind would dry my
cheeks. He'd guide the direction of my eyes to notice the little
things that He never misses; things He adores. The old couple, each
with a cane, walking slowly holding hands. The bird that flew beside
me stopping on fence posts to wait for me to catch up and as I passed
it would sing so loudly. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The millions of dandelions
e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. Over and over again I'd be walking my bike up a
mountain (cause this little-girl can NOT pedal straight up), looking
down (so the sweat wouldn't keep sliding into my eyes) and there
would be another bright dandelion, smiling up at me. The times the
wind was at my back, almost as if there were wings pushing me onward.
The times the wind was in my face, pushing the pesky flies away. Do
you know how hard it is to bike uphill with flies attacking your eyes
and nose?... maybe you do. I didn't. I do now. But when strong winds
come, flies can't stay. (there's another whole blog in that sentence)
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Every thought i've had about the
transitioning from Kenya back to home in the States, well, we sorted
it out on that long bike ride.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Every hurt i've wrestled with while
living in Kenya........ we set right and laid down at the foot of the
cross.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Every concern i've had about “are You
sure about this change in ministry?”, I cried it out to Him and He
reassured me again that, it's His, not mine. His words to my heart
were, “Well of course you feel unsure, since it's not your idea,
not your plan, and you know you can't do it.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's mine, my plan, and I will do it.
You just obey me daughter...”.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And the Savior soothes the soul He
knows, and strengthens the weak knees He made.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Imagine it..... He doesn't despise our
weakness. He glows IN IT.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This morning this tiny-Light-carrier
sat with His words again. Steve brought my morning cup of wake-up and
read these Oswald Chambers words to me. And these are the words we
ruminated over together.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />~from October 12 – <u>My Utmost
for His Highest</u></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<i>Enoch walked with God...”
Genesis 5:24</i> (imagine our hearts, we just finish a 532 mile
journey and this scripture <i>preaches</i> to us more than ever
before)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The true rest of a person's
spiritual life and character is not what he does in the extraordinary
moments of life, but what he does during the ordinary times when
there is nothing tremendous or exciting happening. A person's worth
is revealed in his attitude toward the ordinary things of life when
he is not under the spotlight (see John 1:35-37). It is painful work
to get in step with God and to keep pace with Him --- it means
getting your second wind spiritually. In learning to <i>walk with
God</i>, there is always the difficulty of getting into <i>His
stride</i>, but once we have done so, the only characteristic that
exhibits itself is the very life of God Himself. The individual
person is merged into a personal oneness with God, and God's stride
and His power alone are exhibited.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It is difficult to get into stride
with God</i>, because as soon as we start walking with Him we find
that His pace has surpassed us before we have even taken three steps.
He has different ways of doing things, and we have to be trained and
disciplined in His ways. It was said of Jesus – “He will not fail
nor be discouraged...” (Isaiah 42:4) because He never worked from
His own individual standpoint, but always worked from the standpoint
of His Father. And we must learn to do the same. Spiritual truth is
learned through the atmosphere that surrounds us, not through
intellectual reasoning. It is God's Spirit that changes the
atmosphere of our way of looking at things, and then <i>things begin
to be possible which before were impossible</i>. Getting into God's
stride means nothing less than oneness with Him. It takes a long time
to get there, but keep at it. <i><b>Don't give up because the pain is
intense right now--- get on with it, and before long you will find
that you have a new vision and a new purpose</b></i>.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh dear one, along The Way these words
lived. If “i” thought I could do anything (within my human self),
it became almost laughable at how quickly the impossible-wall
overwhelmed me. But if I kept my internal and external focus on the
pace of my Father walking beside me, before I could even grasp the
size of the mountain in front of me, it would be behind me. I felt
almost giddy over the sense of being carried.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Even though my feet took every step or
pedaled every inch ----- so often at day's end I wondered if i'd
actually done it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And I knew --- we were traveling at
His pace. My job was to show up, be honest with Him, and then
l-i-s-t-e-n. Now then, it's ok if you might be thinking i'm a bit
wacky. I'd likely agree with you. But still --- I want you to have
this, to know this, to journey far with the One who adores you
completely (battle-scars and all, imperfections wash away beside
Him). To travel the distance of your numbered days with the One who
wants to carry you. You probably won't need to walk across a country,
or bike to the sea. You can journey the distance right where you are.
But for sure, you'll have to put sole to soil and press yourself to
obey ------ and then it'll come to you too. The joy of watching the
Holy Words come alive ---- when you see it happen, when, <i>“The
Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never
leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”
“...He rides across the heavens to help you and on the clouds in
his majesty.” “Who is like you, a people saved by the Lord... He
is your shield and helper (your Ezer).” ~from Deuteronomy 31:8,
33:26-29</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There's so much
more to share and in time, at the right pace, the pace of the One
i've settled down into. I hope i'm able to put it rightly in words
that can honor Him and encourage you. In the mean time, this
tiny-daughter is moving forward, peaceful in front of the mountain,
secure on the shoreline of mighty waters. She knows the One who's in
charge. His robes have become her blanket.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And step......... step.......... step.........</div>
<br />Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-37644886177947070852018-04-14T05:25:00.002-07:002018-04-14T05:25:31.547-07:00Do Good and Follow the GOOD KING
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<i>(Warning: This sharing is raw and
“uncensored” in ways I usually censor myself. I'm angry today.
I've been angry for a while now. I've stayed quiet. I'll be quiet
again tomorrow. I won't enter into debates and if ugly comments are
left in postings I will delete them. For most of my life i've
hesitated to speak strongly. People pleasers don't like to ruffle
feathers on other birds. Today, anger is overriding my
southern-genteel-ways. I will not discuss these words with those who
think their political opinions matter more than they actually do. I'm
simply stating the anger that's boiling over inside me and trying to
do it in an appropriate place --- not in anybody's face. So, you
might not want to read this sharing. It might make you angry with me.
If you do read, and if it does make you angry ---- i'm sorry. This is
not personal. It's just the raw me. Proof again of just how much I
need God's help.)</i></div>
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<br />
</div>
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<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Holy Words shake me. Shake me.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They can comfort. They can reassure.
They can guide or bring clarity or correct me hard.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But oh sometimes they shake me just as
surely as if the ground moved under my feet.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It happened again, and it's kept a
strong vibration shaking in my soul. That means it's time to try and
ink it out on paper. It helps to bring heart to paper and see the
clear contrast between what felt like muddled ink inside me sitting
rightly in front of me. Doesn't mean it is “right” when it comes
out - but only that it's no longer a blur inside. Sometimes
comprehending/facing the wrongs of this world can sit better when
they come out and are exposed. Maybe, we can better figure what to do
with them when they are in front of us rather than hiding out inside
us.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I read it in the book of Judges. <i>“In
those days, Israel had no king; all the people did whatever seemed
right in their own eyes.”</i> Over and over again those words come
throughout the pages of Judges. And the words trail after a telling
of some terrible thing someone did that “seemed right in their own
eyes”.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And it vibrates still because we live
in that same-same world today ------- don't we?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you're fortunate enough to live in a
place where the agonies of many aren't physically in front of you
every day, then you might have just quirked your face a bit at that
last sentence. <i>Implying that we live in the same-same days of
Judges..... what is she talking about?</i>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
People might think they “know” a
thing when they read it in the paper or watch it on the news reports.
In truth, we may know of it, we may have become aware, but we do not
actually KNOW a thing simply because we've been told about it. Sadly,
some people believe they know something after reading it on Facebook
or other social media outlets. If you know me well, you know, I do
not eat from the media troughs (social or network); I do not believe
something just because a reporter or facebooker says it. Wisdom might
tell us to learn more about a thing, but we should not act as if we
know anything prematurely. And a news report is not a good teacher.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When I read the words in Judges, <i>“In
those days, the people had no king and they did what seemed right in
their own eyes”</i>, I shutter. Always before, those words have
seemed somehow far away from me. Distant words spoken concerning
another place, another time. But, I cringe, because I know they are
as true today as they were when Samuel penned them. It happens so
often, we've perhaps become numb to it. People doing “their own
thing” at the cost of others, and getting away with horrific
offenses that are too often ignored, tolerated. Oh i'm angry today.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Why am I so angry? …......
</div>
<ul>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because of the little girl who was
walking home from school when two unknown men <i>did what seemed
“right” in their own eyes. </i><span style="font-style: normal;">They
b</span>rutally beat her, raped her, and threw her broken body into
the bushes. I'm f-u-r-i-o-u-s. The news will tell nothing of her.
The men are free.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because of the monstrous actions
of a dictator in Syria who gave orders to attack innocent people
through chemical terrorism. He knew he was biting the cubs in an
attempt to provoke the mama bear. Remember the bullies on the
playground – they always provoked the weaker, in hopes to get
attention and feel powerful. Assad is nothing more than that. He
apparently <i>did what seemed right in his own eyes</i>. It's a
warpage of the mind. Pictures released show the horrific suffering
of those dear children. But since it's not us and ours, we somehow
--- move on --- because we don't know what to do, right? But oh i'm
so angry at those who are far from the war zone but have the
audacity to criticize those who are trying to do something to stop
the suffering.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because of the lady I met on the
street this week whose nose had been cut from her face and knife
scars surrounded her right eye. Someone, somewhere, long ago, did
what <i>seemed right in their own eyes</i>. And she now wears a
cloth tied around her face to try and protect the open sinus
cavities her nose should be covering. Today i'm wrestling with so
much anger.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because of the hard working donkey
I looked at last week with open wounds running down it spine. The
hard man with the kiboko (stick) bearing down on this poor animal's
back was doing <i>what seemed right in his own eyes</i>, but the
donkey suffered terribly under the stupidity of that man. So much
anger.......</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because when I take a few minutes
to try and read about my countries response to the use of chemical
warfare in Syria, and find that the UK and France have aligned with
the leadership of my country, I also have to wade through soooooo
manyyyyyyy peoplessssss opinionssssss on what THEY think the
President should have done. I'm furiously angry today. People are
hell-bent on giving advice and criticizing leaders, because people
want what <i>seems right in their own eyes</i>, and they think
leadership should comply. Never mind that the President has advisors
and input from many who know much more than the average
news-reading-joe on the street. And regardless of what people say
about a President ---- if he prays to GOD before making his
decisions ---- we are a fortunate country under him. Our beautiful
America was in a mess before Carter, Reagan, Bush, Clinton, Bush,
Obama, or Trump took office. These great men have worked to do the
best they could to lead the most powerful country in the world in a
horrifically fallen world. It's so embarrassing when people open
their mouths to speak about what they do not know. Acting as if they
know more and could do a better job than the one who is seeking God
and trying to manage the position GOD has allowed them to hold. Do I
agree with every decision every President has made? No. But oh I
tremble to imagine what a mess I would have made of things if I had
been the one bearing the weight on my shoulders that each of these
men has born. I am furious with the critics. All of them!
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because when a person chooses to
walk into a school with a gun and they CHOOSE to kill others, anger
erupts in all sorts of directions rather than at the wrongness of
one person taking the lives of others. I am NOT a politically driven
person and honestly, I avoid those who are. Why? Because I have seen
with my own sad eyes how the politically opinionated talker will
step right over the dead person in front of them to argue their
political point. They will overlook the agony of the wounded one
even while they use it for a platform supporting their OPINION! Oh
i'm so angry at the person who cares more about their opinion than
they do about the bleeding soul in front of them. Shoot me with your
words if you must --- but here's a real truth ----- guns have the
potential to do good or bring harm. It's all determined by the hand
of the one holding them. And if a hand is bent on hurting other
people ----- if the person intends to kill another ---- I personally
would rather they be holding a gun in my face than a knife or a can
of gasoline and a match. There. I've said it! Guns are much more
merciful than hot paraffin poured on skin and lit with fire. And
yes, i'm furiously ANGRY that a woman has been tortured and burned
over 90% of her body by her muslim husband over the past 10 years.
She's now being protected and cared for by another Kenyan woman. But
the story is so horrific that the caregiver is needing
counseling...... oh GOD. I'm so angry that the
mouth-moving-opinionated-gabbers are still spouting off their
judgements while quiet caregivers are loving the wounded and doing
the hard work.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm angry that months ago when
someone asked me about yet another shooting in America, that before
I could open my mouth to respond, an opinionated dominator shut out
my response while she declared her disgust of our President and
anger against guns. I stayed silent until she walked away. And the
lady who had asked my opinion looked me in the eye and said, “I
agree with you dear, guns don't kill, people do.” And I had not
even opened my mouth. But I'm guessing the opinionated woman felt
good about herself because she dominated the conversation. I'm also
guessing she has never been chased by a person holding a knife
threatening to carve her up after raping her. I despise knives.
Always have. When I was 17 years old I was that girl chased by a
crazy man with a knife. Thankfully, I got away. I've hated knives
since that day. But I do not think knives should be outlawed. I
believe the key of good or bad is found in the heart of the person
holding the gun – knife – bat – fire – stone – etc. I'm so
tired of the opinions of the masses muddling up the support of the
leaders who ARE TRYING to do good! And my last word on this is -----
I was also the woman who had two men trying to enter her home to do
God only knows what ---- but when I cocked my gun and held it up,
they got in their truck and left. I never had to fire that gun, and
i'm thankful for that. But just showing that I, a defenseless woman,
had something I would use to defend myself and my children was all
that was needed to end the terror of that day. Guns CAN do good in
the hands of a good-hearted person. They CAN protect. They did that
day.
</div>
</li>
</ul>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I bet the “haters”
of President Trump would sit down and finally be silent ----- if they
had to endure one term of a dictator like Syria's Bashar al-Assad. I
bet words would change dramatically if those with such strong
opinions were the ones holding a dying child while its body writhed
in agony and it foamed at the mouth because a dictator had unleashed
chemical bombs. And one week later when the airstrikes began as
American, United Kingdom, and French forces bombed and destroyed the
known storage facilities of future chemical attacks, I bet they would
be thankful to see a powerful force standing against what had
destroyed that innocent, precious child.
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I THANK GOD for a
President who will stand toe to toe with a monster in Syria and say
----- we will use our power and strength to stop you from killing
innocent people!!!! and yes, i'm a mother who has a son preparing to
enter into those places where protection is needed against monsters
who terrorize.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Until those who
have such domineering opinions have suffered and learned and truly
KNOW what they are talking about ---- they have NO right to speak.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Until they have
served in the places where monsters destroy innocence and something
bigger than them was needed to come to their rescue ------ they have
no voice against those who are trying to do the best they can to
help.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Until we've
literally felt the weight on our shoulders ----- we should NOT be
telling someone else how they should carry it.
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So, today is a
very different kind of post than any i've ever written before.
Because today i'm “reaching for the Robe” of healing --- needing
help to process out and lay down the intense anger I feel over being
in a world where people do not honor the KING of KINGS, and instead
they just do what <i>seems right in their own eyes</i>. (And
sometimes they <u>talk about</u> what <i>seems right </i><i><u>in
their own eyes</u></i><i>.</i>) I'm sick of hearing their opinions
--------- in a world where we need to roll up our sleeves and DO
GOOD!</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Suffering always
comes, when people do not honor the King.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Suffering always
comes when people<i> just do what is right </i><i><u>in </u></i><i><u><b>their</b></u></i><i><u>
own eyes</u></i>.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
People do not know
the way of goodness.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The King knows the
way.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
God is the King.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We must follow
Him.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And pray for those
who carry great weight on their shoulders. God will put great weight
on the shoulders He knows can carry it.
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
(Opinionators
around them are like knats and fleas.)</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thank you
President Trump for trying.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thank you
President Obama for trying.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thank you
Presidents Bush, Clinton, Bush, Reagan, Carter, Lincoln, Truman, etc.
----- I believe you tried to do what was right for the country and in
God's eyes. You were not perfect; none of you were perfect. But not
one of you did only what <i><u>seemed right in your own eyes</u></i>!!!
You each tried to lead our great country with many advisors around
you. Some of you were brave and strong enough to lead her from your
knees; under the guidance of the King.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
President Trump
said yesterday, “We look forward to the day when we can bring our
warriors home... We pray that God will bring comfort to those
suffering in Syria. We pray that God will guide the whole region
toward a future of dignity and of peace. And we pray that God will
continue to watch over and bless the United States of America.”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
President Trump
reminds me of Peter in the Bible. He talks too much sometimes. He
says the wrong things sometimes. He is far from perfect for sure.
(But, remind me now, exactly how many of the opinion-mongers are
perfect?)</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Still, President
Trump is clear about this. He speaks with the One who is above all
things and is brave enough to follow His lead.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm praying for
President Trump as he leads the most powerful military force in the
world against a powerful evil that will not be stopped with mere
words. Evil feeds on the fodder of opinions, but it is never stopped
by them.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Weeks ago, we sat by a lake in the
Great Rift Valley, and felt the earth vibrate under us. We could see
the vibrations rippling on the water.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The earth was moving under our feet.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When people choose to do what seems
right in their own eyes--------------- all the earth trembles.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our only hope for a better world is if
our opinions can be made subject to the heart of the King and we work
together for what is good, for what honors God, and helps others.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Please ----- could we just stop doing
<u>what WE</u><u><b> think</b></u><u> is right</u> ----- stop
talking about what WE<b> think</b> others should or should not do
------ could we please just DO GOOD and <i>follow the Good King</i>.</div>
<br />Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-51201180735966939762018-01-30T03:46:00.001-08:002018-01-30T03:47:46.173-08:00Winter Trees and Dandelions<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>(Warning! If you knowingly or
unknowingly have an ongoing love-affair with the need to look young,
be young, act like your younger than you are ---- this post isn't for
you. :)
</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>But if you're willing to embrace the
aging process as God allows it to unfold ---- this post will
hopefully bless your socks off. It has mine. Years ago I began asking
God to allow me to “grow old gracefully” – this post is a
partial sharing of His response to my prayer.)</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Growing old is suppose to be a
beautiful thing. It's the result of having lived many years and still
having something to give, to do, to share.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq7-uR8moz9lC_PGJL9ephbf10n6bqUpukB8filP6rn22xWVIGBLsFY20AkpCgcSgEhCPsmAjM1DcOGvQaLFkLI_QFXBaFr1CfuUwAGd8N5W9P5i9iZcZhDpYtrZSJS9RlNWq4oeVvi_V1/s1600/download-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="177" data-original-width="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq7-uR8moz9lC_PGJL9ephbf10n6bqUpukB8filP6rn22xWVIGBLsFY20AkpCgcSgEhCPsmAjM1DcOGvQaLFkLI_QFXBaFr1CfuUwAGd8N5W9P5i9iZcZhDpYtrZSJS9RlNWq4oeVvi_V1/s1600/download-1.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But good grief how this world has
twisted our view of growing old.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm slowly approaching almost 6 decades
of living. I'm getting “older”. Period.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But IF i've chosen to live well and
love much – older won't be the focus - outflow will be.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Here's to sharing with you, what Abba
has whispered to me about growing better (older).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>It's not about getting
older. It's about increased OUTFLOW.</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sitting on our mountain porch in
December under wintry, grey, stick-like trees, it came so clear.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Those tall oak trees stood brave and
bear around me. The picture of winter.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As a child I always thought they looked
naked and cold.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not now.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As a grown woman joyfully living in the
autumn of my life, I see them with better eyes.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You see, those tall trees have lived
long enough to reach high above every man-made thing around them.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJWNCIjTaeQtiboxQEF4kIBtYM-xH0lNmUV45p-o7ZcumvHelWILZmC3BgTVMiolHZlf9cnYYInrSXPTOzOwT_D6tEJwvwpMLBwPnpK483j7-kY4Ssn1JUzcsSU8S7mHbG4XF63sqzU6K/s1600/images-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJWNCIjTaeQtiboxQEF4kIBtYM-xH0lNmUV45p-o7ZcumvHelWILZmC3BgTVMiolHZlf9cnYYInrSXPTOzOwT_D6tEJwvwpMLBwPnpK483j7-kY4Ssn1JUzcsSU8S7mHbG4XF63sqzU6K/s1600/images-3.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They remember what it was to be a tree
in the spring, with sap rising, leaves budding, bark stretching, and
birds nesting.
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They remember what the heat of summer
felt like on their wide green leaves. The rains washed them clean and
the sun dried them well. They remember the sounds of children under
their shady branches and treehouses built on their strong limbs.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hWwQvdiJ6zpc-by6PPMHlFBkgTwDOc5Pe-gFHTjnHS6p4ZD4jHEDR6OU9ZalNjKXVlzCmSJEsFuhRr6XqilZXUGpsK-B05ySRZt-k0oraP7lNHEf7laLrNnoC_jclTQx3_8iqHO6GOFa/s1600/download-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hWwQvdiJ6zpc-by6PPMHlFBkgTwDOc5Pe-gFHTjnHS6p4ZD4jHEDR6OU9ZalNjKXVlzCmSJEsFuhRr6XqilZXUGpsK-B05ySRZt-k0oraP7lNHEf7laLrNnoC_jclTQx3_8iqHO6GOFa/s1600/download-4.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then came the shocking beauty of their
autumn. When the leaves they had grown began to sparkle with colors
most extraordinary. No longer were they like every other tree in a
coat of green. Now they were unique in their own personal coat of
color. And they found their color looked even better beside the other
colors around them. Red is pretty alone, yes. But put it beside a bit
of yellow and a splash of orange and all together they become
astounding! Exactly how it should be with us people.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Fall leaves speak so loudly, if we'll
listen.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They say to us, “I've lived well,
I've grown. I have memories. And now, I get to bless everyone who
walks near me. I'm not longing for spring, i'm celebrating the colors
of autumn. I've had lots of sunshine days and soaking rains and i've
stored it up so I can give this blast of color. My leaves can not
hold it all in, they burst with the joy of living. The richness of
the colors only speaks out of all i've seen and learned.” The
autumn tree says to the autumn soul, “You have so much to give. Do
it with color and joy and life. Bust out of the confines of youth.
Share boldly of the richness that life has brought you.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Next will be the winter. And in the
winter of our lives, our leaves will fade in color, and fly. For the
first and only time ----- our leaves will do something they've never
ever been able to do before. They FLY.
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It should be true for us as well. In
our winter ---- we should be able to do a new thing, something we've
never done before. We should ever be learning and growing and
producing. When we stop --- we are no longer actually l-i-v-i-n-g.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The wind will pluck leaves from our
limbs and they will fly. It's beautiful really. The Windmaker takes
what we can offer and carries it to wherever He wishes. And we, like
that winter tree, are not left naked and cold --- instead we are
unashamed and eager as we hide nothing and hold everything high. Look
at that winter tree. Nothing conceals its long, strong branches as
they bravely hold every limb as high as possible, reaching upward
always. They are the picture of bare-bold-worship! They are not
focused on trying to look pretty. They care nothing about hiding
themselves in the folds of many leaves. They know fully what they're
made of and they are singularly focused on what is above them.
Amazing inspiration drips from their grey branches.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When we enter our winter years, what
will “fly” from us? What will the Windmaker be able to carry from
us to the world around us? There is a final flight scheduled for us.
Will the Windmaker find us having given all, hiding nothing, and
boldly showing our reach for Him?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The worldly way will twist this
beautiful imagery and distract us from seeing it. The worldly way
says we must try and stay young, look young; it says if we're not
young then we're not valuable. It says use this cream to remove dark
spots, and this cream to minimize aging, have this treatment to plump
up tired lines, and this procedure to take 10 years off your face.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But oh that's not the Father's plan.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Take care of ourselves? Yes! Do the
best we can with what we have? Yes! But oh, could we please be real
about what's real, and not waste time or money on trying to be
something we are not (were never suppose to be).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The leafy tree reminds us to embrace
the season we are in. Enjoy the new life of spring. Love the warmth
of summer. Indulge in the copious colors of autumn. And then <u>be
brave</u> in the bare-bold-worship of winter.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are many ways nature whispers the
secret joys of age to us. Can you think of others?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Look at the mountains. Formed from
upheavals of volcanic earth activity, their “spring” is steep
with sharp ridges. Millions of years pass until the “winter” of
their development finds them softened in steepness and covered in
green. The beautiful Appalachian mountains are the picture of this.
The soil has finally tempered and has become a fertile place for new
life to grow. The mountain's “winter” is its most life-giving
season.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One more? How about the dainty
dandelion flower. It's a fascinating little circle of sunshine
yellow. Since i've just written a book entitled “Dandelion: A
Warrior Beside Him”, i've taken much time to ponder this little
jewel. It teaches so much in its silent presence. It too has a four
season life span; it all occurs in less than a month.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Its spring season bursts with a bloom
of yellow joy. In this season its stem is usually shorter, holding it
closer to the ground.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then summer finds it closing itself up
looking almost as if it has not bloomed at all.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the autumn of its living the stem
grows long, sometimes increasing by several inches. Imagine the work
that is taking place in that little flower during its summer and
autumn stages.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But then finally comes its winter, when
the closed up bloom opens itself wide forming a full round ball of
seeds prepared to fly. It fascinates me that the round puff-ball even
looks a bit grey, like the grey hair of us in our winter.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Compare the grey puff ball to its much
younger version, the yellow flower. While the flower is a beautiful
blast of color, it does not yet have the ability to produce the
hundreds of seeds the grey-haired puff ball is able to give. The grey
puff ball would be woefully amiss if it struggled over its loss of
youthful color; what a waste of focus that would be. For indeed, the
yellow flower was destined to close itself up so that in the end the
ultimate purpose of its existence could be fully known. It must die
to its youth in order to produce what is needed. New-life coming from
new seeds.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a breathtaking reminder, that the
grey puff ball sits perfectly still until the wind touches it,
grabbing hold of its ready seeds and carrying them at will to the
places of its choice. If not the wind, then a bird will indulge in
the meal it provides and even still then, it will be carried on wings
to many other places. And sweet is the picture when a child eagerly
plucks the round seed head and “helps” the wind do its job.
However it comes about, the end result is the same.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The seeds are carried.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The dandelion in its winter is able to
doing something new, something it's never done before. It releases
all it has left to give and life is multiplied.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One dandelion flower obediently living
out its seasons of life will produce well over 100 seeds. More than
one hundred new blooms will come because the one lived as it should
have.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Can we people say as much?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Does the tiny dandelion do its work of
living-and-giving better than we soul carriers?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you're young, may this sharing
encourage you to live each season exactly as it should be.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Don't strain ahead trying to grow into
another season before it's time to be there. And someday when you're
old, don't pine away over the loss of your youth. Each season has a
wonderfully important purpose. Perhaps the winter season is the one
of most intense value; it is the one where multiplication should be
exponential if you've lived your other seasons well. If we can know
this in our youth, we can set ourselves up for a most beautiful
winter.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If your older, may this sharing
encourage you to embrace the wintry gift of multiplication. When
there should be nothing hindering our exposed worship with a life
raised high and nothing limiting the wind from carrying us. If we've
lived well, loved much, and grown in good ways, we now have the
chance to fly as the Windmaker carries us wherever He chooses.
Perhaps you'll multiply goodness in the generations after you as they
live out what you showed them. Or maybe you'll multiply your love of
God and Savior as you're legacy travels far. Maybe your life-work
will extend to places and people you never knew and in ways you never
imagined possible.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's the very essence of the words,
“........to Him who is able to do far more ----- abundantly beyond
------- all that we hope for or imagine, according to the power that
works within us, to Him be the glory.......... to all generations
forever and ever. Amen.” (from Ephesians 3:20-21)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4RmhrCQqVK60RyxgqodQO5Ez6o4dQCI8VZx8sN1VlgzDW2-Zyrt4t-B4ZlPtxXJAp0dyscJCOLWsXiuxRBOvuVaQoiHWRFNji91SZ5mUSbAC5NEKwDlPBTtkg49Ou6Ycs4jSCQ-TfDje/s1600/images-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="188" data-original-width="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4RmhrCQqVK60RyxgqodQO5Ez6o4dQCI8VZx8sN1VlgzDW2-Zyrt4t-B4ZlPtxXJAp0dyscJCOLWsXiuxRBOvuVaQoiHWRFNji91SZ5mUSbAC5NEKwDlPBTtkg49Ou6Ycs4jSCQ-TfDje/s1600/images-5.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There is more to give. More to do. More
to share. More...........................</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Notice how we can see further in the
forest when the winter trees stand brave and bare. If we will be
brave, bare winter trees, perhaps those younger than us can grow
stronger beside us. Isn't it the way of the great forests.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
J. C. Penney said,
</div>
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“I may be losing my ability to see in
my old age, but <u><b>my vision is better than ever before</b></u>.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>(Being on the other side of the world from them, i miss my mom and dad so much. Writing helps. And in writing this, i'm so very thankful for the way they are living their winter. They inspire. If you don't know them -- i wish you could. If you do, when you see them next -- give them an extra hug from their autumn-tree-daughter.)</i></div>
Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-84487340890021570292017-10-14T02:10:00.000-07:002018-02-01T03:38:32.967-08:00God looked, God saw ---- do i see?<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmpyc9hs5dSa3Q-sXaf6Ga3dGLduUsh55p2xtRTcI7_AxRxLuLSYSgUBlKQaADa0TUTL0HCcce_F79tY_eBKcKYYoUYrtcgeYOvrR6xpCISiMVThV80YEjhZBpg3yYR_Zw-ICBW_DvW1J/s1600/DSC_8803.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmpyc9hs5dSa3Q-sXaf6Ga3dGLduUsh55p2xtRTcI7_AxRxLuLSYSgUBlKQaADa0TUTL0HCcce_F79tY_eBKcKYYoUYrtcgeYOvrR6xpCISiMVThV80YEjhZBpg3yYR_Zw-ICBW_DvW1J/s320/DSC_8803.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">When in doubt, it's a good idea to go
back to the beginning of a thing.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It might be the beginning of a
conversation that turned south unexpectedly. Or the need to go back
to the recipe when it didn't turn out right. Rethink the
conversation, where was the kink? Review the recipe, what was missed?
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">How many times have I gone back to the
words, “In the beginning God...”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It's an amazing place to go. It grounds
me.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The fluff and flurry of the world, the
dirt and dander ---- it gets settled when I go back and remember the
way God began it all. It helps me remember His greatness, His
character, His patience, His ways. It's a lifetime pursuit to know
Him more. It's a need in me. Not because i'm trying to be smarter
about God, instead it's because, well, ---- I know me ---- and
therefore I know my need of Him. I choose Him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Try hard as we may ----- in the end,
when all that dust settles ----- we know, we can't ---- He can ----
we'll likely mess things up ---- He won't ----- we n-e-e-d Him to
show up and do what only He can do or the flurry and dander will
overwhelm the air and we'll go down again.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Sometimes I wonder if i'm the only
person still in Kindergarten. :)</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Seriously --- degrees have not altered
my Kindergarten level of thinking.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So when I dare to write my heart right
out in front of you ---- it's only that my preschool brain is needing
to lay down something and get it out, so I can grasp more of what the
Teacher is saying.
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Several years ago the good Father
whispered something solid-rock in my heart. It shocked me, but I
trusted His urging. He does still speak ya' know. He is not silent.
But we must measure it all carefully because His voice is not the
only one trying to talk to us.
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I do not hear “voices”. (God help –
some people do...)</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I do not believe God speaks to a heart
today telling it anything contrary to what His Holy Bible says. It's
a good way to measure a thought – does it line up with God's word
or not. If not – it's the wrong voice, don't listen friend!</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So how can we know if it's a stirring
from God? We simply must spend time in His Word in order to
understand who He is and what He would or would not be saying.
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It's the simplicity of a Father caring
for His child.
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The child knows the difference between
its father's voice and the voice of another man. How? Because the
child and father have spent time together. (Kindergarten level stuff)
:)</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So what was it He said to me, those years ago? He whispered into my storm and said, “I see you. Even if no one else sees you dear, I ---
see --- you.” And I wept a river of tears in the floor of my
closet.</span><br />
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</div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Then it came again to me several months
later, “I see you daughter. I'm not missing a detail. You are not
alone, I'm with you, I see you, you are mine and I am yours.” This
second time I wept a river of tears in the woods behind our house.
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="en-NLT-23423"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="en-NLT-23424"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="en-NLT-23425"></a>
I knew it was the Great One whispering to tiny me because I could run
to my Bible and read, “<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time
forth, and even for evermore.” (Psalm 121:8) --- so, He sees me, He
knows where I am, He cares enough to care for me, i'm not alone. And
then there's Matthew 10:29-31 “What is the price of two
sparrows—one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the
ground without your Father knowing it.</span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
</span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">And
the very hairs on your head are all numbered.</span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
</span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">So
don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of
sparrows.” --- so, He has looked at me long enough to know the
number of hairs on my head!?! What? I don't even know the number of
hairs on my head! Which (kindergarten level again) --- means, </span></span></span></span><span style="color: #001320;"><i><b>He
knows me better, more thoroughly, much more deeply, than I know
myself</b></i></span><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">.
</span></span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In
order to know the number of hairs on a persons head ----- He surely
sees them.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">He
is near enough to s-e-e the very hairs on your head. </span></span></span>
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuWoes6XJF21K2mip6xU3P9z2gFzN2sxHffq-fvIPXj1EgeFR0GPugQSD4xboTNe-3wPHYGZswJTzbQ0U_hJ_qA-Hz6fOiOOWjJ0o6TotFtgSZG6B8yOBteKtgMhb6SKd4A80rGZpT_EBA/s1600/IMG_1054.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuWoes6XJF21K2mip6xU3P9z2gFzN2sxHffq-fvIPXj1EgeFR0GPugQSD4xboTNe-3wPHYGZswJTzbQ0U_hJ_qA-Hz6fOiOOWjJ0o6TotFtgSZG6B8yOBteKtgMhb6SKd4A80rGZpT_EBA/s320/IMG_1054.jpeg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And
then there's the time when God spoke to Hagar in the wilderness, she
had run away from Sarai who had begun treating her harshly. Hagar
responds to the angel's words by using a “new” name for God ---
she calls him El-roi – which means “You are the God who sees me”.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It
was a defining moment for me. For you see, I was convinced I was
wasting air. I had tried to be good; tried to be a good friend, tried
to be a good cook, tried to be a good teacher, mother, wife, student,
servant, person. But I kept falling short somehow --- it seemed I was
never quite enough. (Usually my own scales were inflicting this.)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So
I ran back to the beginning --- again.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">In
the beginning ---- GOD created..... for six days He created, and He
said, “it was good”. Until He saw that it was not good for man to
be alone. Then He said, “It is not good....”. </span></span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Alone
--- being alone is not good. Feeling alone is not good. God designed
us for relationship; with Him and with others. </span></span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Have
you ever been surrounded by people, but you've felt alone, unseen?
You might speak, and someone talks over you. You might smile at
someone and they don't notice your kindness. Alone is a hard thing.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Even
a solid introvert likes to at least know they are loved, maybe not
smothered and coddled, but not completely alone.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The
enemy of God surely heard God's words --- “It is not good for man
to be alone.....”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">It's
why aloneness is one of the tools the enemy uses against people. If
he can make them feel alone, he can gain an advantage over them.
After all – God said it, “it is not good to be alone”. </span></span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Dare
I say (at my kindergarten level) --- even God Himself does not choose
to be alone! He created angels to surround Him and people to be in
relationship with Him. Amazing isn't it. The Creator made us people
in His image --- and we reflect the part of God that does not want to
be alone.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ2nKa_lb7qa0adPzlXwxKHnuuevzWxrQ8gMqDVeawxFaAED_YZTlBFW9s6CiMDa9pSGU2AtuD4Qfxxu6kd1bJhyphenhyphen3YyMl0CApqbVSIz_Fn8nBn0uLr__w0o4B1Tpj7BexeZaV7FIjoQy_d/s1600/DSC_2680.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ2nKa_lb7qa0adPzlXwxKHnuuevzWxrQ8gMqDVeawxFaAED_YZTlBFW9s6CiMDa9pSGU2AtuD4Qfxxu6kd1bJhyphenhyphen3YyMl0CApqbVSIz_Fn8nBn0uLr__w0o4B1Tpj7BexeZaV7FIjoQy_d/s320/DSC_2680.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Yet,
somehow we can feel alone even in a crowd of people.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
translate that to being “unseen” in the middle of many.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The
feeling of not being “seen” by others produces the same effect as
being alone.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">To
clarify, there are times of daily aloneness that are good. A little
quiet time, prayer time, time to reflect and think and ponder ----
this is a necessity. Susanna Wesley, mother to John and Charles
Wesley was only able to have this needed quiet, “alone” time by
sitting in a chair in the middle of a room filled with her own
children and pulling her apron up over her head. Her children knew
this was her time to be alone with God and they knew to be quiet and
busy when the apron went over mom's head. Chosen moments of quiet and
alone time are beneficial.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But
the aloneness that is not good speaks of being isolated. Not
included. Prisons use this to punish the worst offenders. It's
isolation --- solitary confinement.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">“<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Not
being alone” translates to more than just being with others, it
speaks of being “seen”. We know when we are being ignored,
overlooked, cast out. It is a tool used by society to wound and
isolate.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In
some caste cultures, not only were people isolated and not allowed
rights, it was considered offensive to even look at them. Still is
even today.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Did
you ever feel something like that in your teenage years? When you'd
innocently walk up to a group of peers hoping to be included in
whatever the conversation was about, only to realize no one was
making a space for you, no one noticed you, or worse yet, they had
noticed you but were not even going to acknowledge you were there.
You knew you were “unseen”, not included, not wanted.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Those
moments in life come to everyone. </span></span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Some
people avoid those moments coming to them, by inflicting them on
others first.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It's
all a cruel game that revolves around the damage of isolation, not
seeing, not including another.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One
of the reasons social media is so outrageously out of control, is
that it seemingly pacifies the ache of aloneness. It takes much less
effort to be “seen” through technology than it does to be seen in
real life. People can throw a careless statement online, and boom ---
they get some attention for it. But in person, if they said the exact
same words, they might be overlooked, ignored or even ostracized.
Since it's not being said in person, they can be “seen” virtually
but not really. The same is true with video-gamers. They can get the
sense of accomplishment and community, they are able to feel a part
of something even though it is virtual and not actually real. No
villain was actually defeated; no arsenal of weapons earned is
available in reality. It's a game. It's not real. And if the gaming
community does meet in person, their conversations, so i'm told,
usually revolve around the “game”. They don't share realness of
life, but they have at least found a way to be included in something.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">People
were not designed to be alone.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In
this world so many are wounded, isolated, and left feeling alone.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Counselors
tell us that one of their primary tasks is to give people a safe
place to be seen and heard. The world population has never been
higher than it is today, and yet, we are surrounded by lonely souls.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Social
media is not a solution, it is a slow drip of arsenic for the lonely
soul.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In
the beginning God created much that was good, but when he came to the
human created in His image, He said it was not good for them to be
alone.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Who
do you know that might be lonely or hurting or unseen?</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Do
they know you “see” them? Do we see them?</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A
few months ago I was criticized for conveying the words “i see
you”. The words that came back to me were, “Why do you say that
to people? It's actually not biblical at all for you to tell people
you see them.” It's taken me a long time of searching out whether
or not I was being biblical or not. I had to go back to the beginning
and spend time on my knees over those words.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">What
a healing ointment it has been to my heart and soul to go through
Genesis and make note of all the times God “saw”.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Genesis
1:1 --- He created.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Genesis
1:2 --- His spirit hovered.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Genesis
1:3 --- He said, “Let there be light.”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Genesis
1:4 --- God saw that the light was good.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">God
was a busy God in Genesis. Read through chapter one with highlighter
in hand, mark all the action words/verbs describing God's activity.
No matter the translation, you'll see a very busy God as He saw,
called, said, made, created, blessed, looked, warned, caused, took,
and brought. </span></span></span></span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The
balm for me is that HE SAW that it was good, and He responded to what
He saw. And if we are made in His image, and called to His purposes,
it makes sense to me that we should see and respond. When God saw
Adam and said it was not good for him to be alone, God did something
about it. We, as His children, have a responsibility to see what He
brings in front of us and respond in the way He guides us to.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT9ux6c28VXg0d-MgmNUW7rw5TimtNF9AGFQ0sI8r-5rVyrL6l4rZHiCRuhbcgDqUGug_k_VzSONPwAGaCu61WrHWJwsXW-yEPeeyD6q642jWlilAnTsaIrkgafgb097z14aV-xAFH_dL8/s1600/DSC_1721.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT9ux6c28VXg0d-MgmNUW7rw5TimtNF9AGFQ0sI8r-5rVyrL6l4rZHiCRuhbcgDqUGug_k_VzSONPwAGaCu61WrHWJwsXW-yEPeeyD6q642jWlilAnTsaIrkgafgb097z14aV-xAFH_dL8/s320/DSC_1721.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
went on to Chapter 3 of Genesis and found something i'd never fully
noticed before. It's after the serpent has come and deceived the
woman. She ate what was forbidden and so did Adam. Then in the very
next verse, 3:7, it says, “At that moment their eyes were opened
and they suddenly felt shame...”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Wait
--- i'm pretty sure Adam and Eve were created with the ability to see
with their brand new eyes. I'm quite certain that when God brought
the gift of Eve to Adam, Adam could see her when he said “This is
bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh...” </span></span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So
it's not that they were blind prior to verse 7, it's only that they
could not see the difference between good and evil prior to the
opening of their eyes. It's why they were ashamed after that first
sin came.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So
God calls us to be His children, to be His hands and feet, and
perhaps be willing to see with His eyes. His eyes will always see
through the lens of love and grace. If we only are looking with our
earth-bound eyes, we'll see in earth-like ways – and it's possible
we won't actually “see” what is right in front of us.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">But
if we'll be surrendered enough to let God show us what He wants us to
see, and then obedient enough to respond the way He wants us to
respond --- we'll be in the process of becoming more like the One who
is worth conforming to. </span></span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">God
sees you.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">God
wants us to be His image-bearers who do His good work.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">He
wants us to become more like Him. (John 13:15, Philippians 2:5, 1
John 2:6, 2 Corinthians 3:18)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Therefore
-----</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">we
need to refocus our eyes to be able to “see” each other.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">We
should see one another. </span></span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Facebook
and twitter and instagram are only tiny snap-shots --- sort of like
looking through the peephole in a hotel door. The tiny bit we can see
is only a glimpse and a fish-eye-lens view at that.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Really
seeing one another is the only way we can actually know someone and
be known by them.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Some
do not want to be known because they know if anyone looks too
closely, they'll begin to see the parts that have been covered over
and concealed. Others do not want to actually “know” someone
else, because if they do, they might need to begin to ---- actually
----- do something ---- like ---- care for them in some way. It's
easier to click a like isn't it or if possible, just ignore them,
don't “see” them. </span></span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">After
all – if I never “saw” them, then how could I possibly realize
I should have done something about what I would have seen IF I had
cared enough to “see”.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">How
many times have you witnessed people sitting together but not
actually “together” – because everyone was on their phone or
computer or playing a game on something in their hands. Hearts don't
engage that way.......... (how many children are growing up
surrounded, but feeling very unseen?) </span></span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So
we end up alone, even as we sit with others.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAi_3dMrpfd5rMZ9P2Tff0i57S2j8tjAldMEPRRbxoDwpzH6u7GYopsmQBMKjP8W_b7PYQ78nlv5N5Af-yUtZsPjqIoA2gQvsVyZblNYqF5pBHHmD7n4rJvLNpPPW9iFaawT6HQ67_So03/s1600/DSC_2681.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="497" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAi_3dMrpfd5rMZ9P2Tff0i57S2j8tjAldMEPRRbxoDwpzH6u7GYopsmQBMKjP8W_b7PYQ78nlv5N5Af-yUtZsPjqIoA2gQvsVyZblNYqF5pBHHmD7n4rJvLNpPPW9iFaawT6HQ67_So03/s320/DSC_2681.jpeg" width="309" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But
wasn't it the Good Father, El-roi himself who said, “It is not good
for people to be alone.”?</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Oh
friend --- let's see the ones in front of us. The One who loves best
still chooses to see us.</span></span></div>
Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-74759192228371642792017-07-19T17:37:00.001-07:002017-07-19T17:37:50.504-07:00...on earth, as it is in Heaven...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpcFWkfESHWkGziIdHp00egfz8B6JpEW3WyBSrKJZ33_ltEclNn9piNIiI1LlAoXA7xhLJuQWezzOEf4TpV2cW3QKr8V-I9kknRICI6ogiDCH3eh2n6TvVQgqxRDEuPJmBMAGm5MQygLD7/s1600/IMG_8841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpcFWkfESHWkGziIdHp00egfz8B6JpEW3WyBSrKJZ33_ltEclNn9piNIiI1LlAoXA7xhLJuQWezzOEf4TpV2cW3QKr8V-I9kknRICI6ogiDCH3eh2n6TvVQgqxRDEuPJmBMAGm5MQygLD7/s320/IMG_8841.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
God chose to enter the world through a
baby.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Imagine it ... He created a miniature
image-bearer of Himself, made it completely helpless, sent it into
the world by means of pain, and packaged hope in that tiny, wordless
messenger. The animals in a manger-cave were witnesses to the birth
of baby Jesus. He did not choose a mountain top or mansion or palace
or synagogue. He chose the humblest place to deliver His greatest
gift.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And God chose to come to us through a
baby.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
…....and He keeps doing it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I watched her face most of all. I knew
her face would tell me everything.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We had entered into that realm where
words would be lacking, when so much more would be said in silence.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My eyes were riveted on her face. I
looked at little else.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My daughter was becoming a mother. Her
own beautiful childhood danced about inside my heart as I watched her
become a mother.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My ears could not hear the words being
spoken, they sounded like Charlie Brown's school-teacher --- waa,
whaa, waaa, whaaa, wa... Buzzers, monitors, voices, instructions and
the sound of Maggie breathing as she worked – somehow my ears could
not decipher all the input.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But her face. As long as I could see
her face. I knew i'd see it all clearly if I could just keep her face
in my sights. Her face would show the bare-truth of each moment.
Prayers gushed upward as I watched her face. It was beautiful.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And it happened.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Her face went from intense work --- to
the most peaceful glow. Her mouth went from a straight line of focus
--- to the gentlest, peaceful smile imaginable. And her eyes --- they
went from closed to opened in wonder. I heard nothing, I saw his
arrival in her face. And the next movement that came --- her arms.
They reached for him. It was her first reach of many --- she'll reach
for him with a mother's love for the rest of her days. Her face
showed he had finally arrived ---- her arms reacted immediately. And
Heaven-filled-the-room.... “Thy Kingdom come, thy will be
done----on earth as it is in Heaven....”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jesus spoke those words.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We should have our eyes focused for
those moments when the Kingdom delivers and His will is done right in
front of our eyes --- here on earth. We miss so much when our eyes
are off-focus.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's those fleeting moments when we'll
see “on earth as it is in Heaven” --- when earthbound feet are
released from clay for brief, beautiful moments, and we rise above
it all to see His more for us. So like our great God to choose the
glimpse of His Kingdom coming in the quiet arrival of His freshest
creation.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPeZdjTdjdq4-8iO-LDoi20v-basQ43xnWz4WxNlpIREQuDlM3iqg6qsld6NDRljxhyZFAs321aCNa6ry1nnidR-NLG5PEPFmbhGufX7E-fR0wk-nI7a8OiosHwB8sou0FDOE1oOgfixNL/s1600/IMG_8840.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPeZdjTdjdq4-8iO-LDoi20v-basQ43xnWz4WxNlpIREQuDlM3iqg6qsld6NDRljxhyZFAs321aCNa6ry1nnidR-NLG5PEPFmbhGufX7E-fR0wk-nI7a8OiosHwB8sou0FDOE1oOgfixNL/s320/IMG_8840.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's not an exaggeration at all. Truly.
When a baby arrives ---- a tiny spec of His Kingdom has come.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We can choose to see it, or not. We can
choose to ignore it, or not.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh but I, I chose to sit in awe as I
watched God work a miracle in front of my eyes as our daughter
grabbed hold of His great robes and worked hand in hand with Him.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was a holy moment. <br />Holy moments
have been missed since the Garden of Eden was closed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But, they are still happening ---- and
most often they happen outside the walls of Sunday's meeting places.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Holiness ---- it came in an animal
stable. Nothing was neat and proper about the setting. The setting is
not the focus. The arrival hall of Heaven's gifts are rarely
polished, perfect places. For our great God brings His Holiness right
into the middle of our imperfection ---- and it's all about seeing
that HIS KINGDOM HAS COME (it has nothing to do with the setting or
decorations or lack there of).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It rolled through my heart and mind in
slow motion even during those swift seconds of “on earth as it is
in Heaven”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
---- all while I watched her face.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Maggie is a beautiful person, through
and through. If you know her, you know it's true. If you don't know
her, well, hopefully someday you will.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She's a jewel. Ray, her husband knows
it well. And he's a solid rock treasure as well.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And while Maggie is not a vain,
self-consumed person who focuses on how she “looks”, she is
someone who takes care of of herself and works to be her best in all
she does.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the moments when God grabbed hold of
her hand and whispered to her soul, “let's work together here
daughter, I've got a little Heaven-kissed gift I'd like to share..”,
when her great work began, the work of labor and delivery, she was
not focused on her ability or perfection or even worthiness of the
gift. Her heart, mind, and soul were focused on the Giver and His
gift.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Her everything was focused... in such
right ways.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She was watching for ---- “Thy
Kingdom come, thy will be done---on earth, as it is in Heaven.”.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Her labor was working to bring a baby
into the world ----- but it was also working to bring a bit of Heaven
to a needy earth.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And oh what we can learn from that
whispered lesson delivered in the delivery room.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It (life, living, performance,
ability).... it is not about us and who we are or what we've done or
what we didn't do ----- it's just simply not about us friends.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our eyes will serve us best if we'll
take them off all the stuff that bogs us down in the middle of all
that is so unholy........... and instead, raise our eyes up, setting
them on the One who delivers Heaven to earth in the silent package of
a helpless babe and says to those who will hear Him, “I'll bring
the holy part, you take my hand. I'll bring Heaven to earth, you just
work with me. I'll work the miracle, you just breathe...”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He arrives and brings heaven's
greatness with Him ----- no matter where we are. If we'll let go and
let Him.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No matter what we bring ---- His
holiness changes us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We waste too much precious time trying
to look or be or act or impress.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When it's all about His will being done
on earth as it is in Heaven --- that's where beautiful everythings
will burst onto the scene and we'll have those moments of standing in
the flow of the river of real-life --- and we'll know we're there
when what just happened in front of us or to us or in us came from
God --- because we know,
we-----could------not-------have--------done--------it.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Further still we know, I
-------did-------not--------do--------it.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We're the first to know, God ----
did------this!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Heaven touches earth in front of us
when the silent miracle appears and we know --- God did that.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I didn't do it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No person did it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No one could have brought that about
(although some will try and take credit for it).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But I know --- deep inside, in the
deepest places of my soul ---- I know only God could have done that.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
That's it friend --- that's when we are
standing on Holy Ground because Heaven has just touched down.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And it doesn't come in neat, polished
packages.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But if our eyes have been re-focused
rightly ---- we see the perfect arrival of Heaven-moments.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our God is so flawlessly good ---- He
is brave enough to share His holiness with us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And we wonder at the flow of it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He breathes His perfection into a
speechless, wet, tiny messenger that can't walk or talk and has no
seeable-skill at all, and He watches to see, will anyone notice my
presence and holiness if I package it this way? Awww, our Abba wants
us to see Him in the silent, still, small things. His greatness is
packaged in them. And the more we stop and see Him, the less we'll
care about the big, loud, flashy things, and the greater His chances
are to transform us more and more into another of His still, small
whispers into a loud, hard world.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Babies show it to us in their arrival.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They are messy, have nothing, they're
naked, they're helpless, they can't speak even one word --- and yet
we can't stop looking at them --- because we know, tucked inside that
precious soft skin is the very breath of God. We are mesmerized as
they deliver Heaven to earth. It takes our breath away.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI5G0EK0ND_eGxHChS7Tnlpo1jZAXm-PygpRjEG6N3IkWvbqGmJFPCqOpAvrdIUpt-S4OBn50N-sTb1-RBXFKBT70JSAuwj_enNBcIGQazB5JJ3R4BNv0QB4PCetf2nWAAZ3gOEOHy-aMt/s1600/IMG_8828.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1292" data-original-width="1600" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI5G0EK0ND_eGxHChS7Tnlpo1jZAXm-PygpRjEG6N3IkWvbqGmJFPCqOpAvrdIUpt-S4OBn50N-sTb1-RBXFKBT70JSAuwj_enNBcIGQazB5JJ3R4BNv0QB4PCetf2nWAAZ3gOEOHy-aMt/s320/IMG_8828.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The silent bundle is a teacher.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We grow up and become speaking, walking
producers of something ----- professionals, home-owners, workers,
money-makers, opinionated people with “rights” ---- but each
accomplishment seems to take us farther away from the wonder of
Heaven come to earth.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
------ oh good Lord, we have so much to
learn.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's not about us – nothing is
actually about us – what we can do or how much we've accomplished.
We work to become something important only to realize in the winter
of our lives ---- it really never was about us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It, the whole purpose of life, is all
about how much Heaven-goodness we allowed to flow through us into
this wounded world.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Heaven comes to earth ---- miracle
moments unfold ---- when we lay ourselves down and watch for His
arrival. When we choose humility --- and grace --- and “you first”
--- and generosity --- and prayer ---- and kindness --- and the
holy-thinking of “how can I best accomplish this task so that i'm
not seen nearly as much as God's goodness is able to flow through
it...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the moments after little Gunnar
breathed his first earth-air, the doctor laid him up on Maggie's
chest. Heaven had come down, a speechless package spoke volumes, the
air was holy. I could feel God's nearness as He released His dear
Gunnar into the arms of His chosen parents. And then one of the most
beautiful things i've ever heard or seen followed on the heals of the
most beautiful moment i've ever witnessed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ray---- tall, strong, new-daddy Ray,
wrapped his long, muscular arms around his wife and baby, and he
prayed. Into the same air that Gunnar had just begun breathing, the
air His Heavenly Father released him into, his earthly Father talked
with his Creator-Father, and thanked Him for the gift of Heaven
coming to earth in the little package of this son. Ray committed
their hearts and home to care for the gift, and thanked God for His
miracle.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
… and I wondered how the Father above
must have smiled...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
... if angels watching shed tears...
(as we did)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
… if everything shifted in unseen
ways because two fathers held hands at the exchange of the miracle.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCaGMRWBq2fPUwcVQHHqtqRLF204Yg30NPIwfRJpjl1_uenjUT4fwDYXJDC9VhFAbN5xpzI3EvRs2iMFBdB6lKeGsXMC3eKSKRi0d3Mwa8Us2SlH90zlDcIruUnUyOhF6Ue3YDpvudVro/s1600/IMG_8842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1499" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCaGMRWBq2fPUwcVQHHqtqRLF204Yg30NPIwfRJpjl1_uenjUT4fwDYXJDC9VhFAbN5xpzI3EvRs2iMFBdB6lKeGsXMC3eKSKRi0d3Mwa8Us2SlH90zlDcIruUnUyOhF6Ue3YDpvudVro/s320/IMG_8842.JPG" width="256" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As Ray prayed, I watched her eyes.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Everything was being said in her eyes.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She's a mother, holding Heaven's-gift,
wrapped in arms that call Heaven down around her, she's loved, she
loves, they love, Abba loves -------- and Gunnar will grow under
their care and God's cover as he becomes what his name declares ----
“warrior”.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Heaven delivered a tiny helpless babe
---- but “on earth as it is in Heaven” he will become one of
Heaven's warriors among us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Only God can do all this ----
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
my eyes were set on her face, and it
was there that I saw Him... again.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-11487429079380692272017-06-14T06:30:00.000-07:002017-06-14T06:30:05.352-07:00Words from a Clay-Carrier-Pigeon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbDeUUiey4bAznjiBu4n36goWHoHa-5H7O_8tq9XbLqr0gaxoh8HvPbgVVSEEQhpSSa_5Z98DtfvWLuoch2WZygZw1vukfPFbyHvxg47FKRbRNcwR8E3hchwMFvHqu4ddB-ETJUFbLOAfU/s1600/IMG_1240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbDeUUiey4bAznjiBu4n36goWHoHa-5H7O_8tq9XbLqr0gaxoh8HvPbgVVSEEQhpSSa_5Z98DtfvWLuoch2WZygZw1vukfPFbyHvxg47FKRbRNcwR8E3hchwMFvHqu4ddB-ETJUFbLOAfU/s320/IMG_1240.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our car passes from one world to
another; carrying us from pavement to dirt, smooth to rough, and
barely processable to utterly unprocessable surroundings.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Is “unprocessable” even a word?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Today it has to be.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The creation scene around us is
breathtaking. The mountainous scenery speaks of solid strength and
power, no man-made building has ever done that for my soul.
Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel is deeply moving and beautiful, yes.
But it's small in comparison to what the Creator can do with color
and space. Slopes dressed in green with grey rocky outcroppings,
laced with a blue-sky crown and white-puffed clouds for jewels. The
creation speaks of powerful peace ---- but the man-made muddle of
confusion underneath it quickly deafens the earth-bound ear.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For it's the troubles created by man
that have once again broken the heart of the Father and He has turned
our hearts in this very direction. And I am reminded of HIS goodness
in the middle of this mud. If Abba were not good, then He would not
care what is happening to His creation. And if He did not care, He
would not speak to our hearts concerning it. And if He did not speak
to our hearts over it, we would not glance in its direction, since HE
is the barometer for what is good and what is not. It is HIS heart
that stirs the hearts of His image-bearers. It's His longing to
respond, once again, to the ones who cry out to Him --- this longing
of God is the reason our feet have landed where they are found.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I sit with this truth often: If God
were not so good, I would not even notice what is not good.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It keeps my head straight in the middle
of the battlefield, where the enemy wants to fling spears of lies to
try and twist truth --- where doubts can break us quicker than
stones. The liar will say – if God is good then why do such bad
things happen?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh but does that enemy realize how
deeply foolish and off-point he is? For knowing God means we actually
know what GOODNESS is --- and if we did not know His goodness, we
would not even be able to recognize the opposite of Him. And it is
the enemy of Goodness that has authored the very badness our Good
Father is calling us to respond to. Always under His cover and
because of His love.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a battlefield for sure --- where
the Great God who is good, wants His children to respond with Love to
the deep-running attack of evil against innocence.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJLQZbebDhRkSHijPiCOluVPhlN26Top_EB5Tmtr_Yhyphenhyphen96B6WvXHHxjLGYZ6MwhcA4_IKnnP-An_3DaC7UwAp5PNQl9yMJ_on7Af2Sdwpnlovr3HDUHnn8rslxqKEO-zef917PbUdTqQLW/s1600/unnamed-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJLQZbebDhRkSHijPiCOluVPhlN26Top_EB5Tmtr_Yhyphenhyphen96B6WvXHHxjLGYZ6MwhcA4_IKnnP-An_3DaC7UwAp5PNQl9yMJ_on7Af2Sdwpnlovr3HDUHnn8rslxqKEO-zef917PbUdTqQLW/s320/unnamed-4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Doesn't the Word say that “Love covers over
a multitude of sin”?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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So I sit often with the truth: If God
were not so good, I would not even notice what is not good.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bad does not happen because God is weak
or uncaring. Bad happens because... there is this fallen being who
hates God and hates goodness and works to defeat and discourage and
destroy what God loves dearly (us). Hurting us, is the fallen ones
way of hurting God. So God calls on His children, the ones He has
poured Himself into by our own invitation to Christ, to respond on
the battlefield to the devastating attacks on the innocent ones.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Should we be surprised --- or
discouraged --- or shocked?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We can hardly resist being leveled in
our inner most parts when we see just how low, gruelingly low, the
enemy of our good Father will go, as he works to wound the heart of
God.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But should it be allowed to stop us?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Should we become fearful --- thinking
warped thoughts like --- “if this can happen to them, then
shouldn't I get out of here and not dabble in these terribly broken
places – shouldn't I shore up my walls and lock myself in to a safe
place...?”</div>
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Another truth comes in response: Fear
is the opposite of Faith.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Faith defeats giants because Faith
focuses on the Faithful One.
</div>
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Fear defeats us, because fear compels
us to take our eyes off the Faithful One.
</div>
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And if our eyes sway from our Father,
we're as powerless as the dust we're made of.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKsfgwpFZfGiVhpC8TFTpVMOEB9L0xR9grNe3e9NvdoODsz88eH9s61EbQvHrlF58_UdBHBfq-ySQzl6EWIzQ86JcSeDJfalEWFxmBH6Sk1ouqWA1OHd3qeLfzCaP3nZ_Fqh3sD6AxAIh/s1600/unnamed-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKsfgwpFZfGiVhpC8TFTpVMOEB9L0xR9grNe3e9NvdoODsz88eH9s61EbQvHrlF58_UdBHBfq-ySQzl6EWIzQ86JcSeDJfalEWFxmBH6Sk1ouqWA1OHd3qeLfzCaP3nZ_Fqh3sD6AxAIh/s320/unnamed-5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loaded with boxes and boxes of pads (the night before we traveled), so thankful for the help of Caroline (Kenyan coordinator for Mom's in Prayer), along with Angie and Quillen, dear friends from the States who spearheaded the message and gathered funds for the girls before coming to spend a month with us in Kenya.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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It's the blood of Christ touching the
dust of us that makes us able to stand --- wherever the good Father
places us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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When we arrive, after bouncing down a
dirt trail where feet and pikis (motorcycle taxis) and donkeys only
travel, we hear their songs (yes, the wounded girls are singing). I
open the door and in doing so, I remove the last barrier between my
safe cocoon and their world of lack.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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You see, I recognize each layer of a
cocoon, since I lived most of my life tucked deeply inside one.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We step into wet mud. The kind that
sticks.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The kind that dirties the bottoms of
our clean shoes.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And He whispers to my soul, “It's a
wasted life that keeps the soles of its shoes clean in a world filled
with wounded souls longing to be cleaned.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He has spoken those words so often to
me in these latter years of my life.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Clear – the words come through clear
--- and they pour a resilience into marrow.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm not crazy. It's not foolishness
that opens my soul up to His whispers. Some might wonder...some
might.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But I know it for sure --- because I
know what life feels like apart from those words. I remember well how
it feels when my thoughts and the world's words filled the spaces in
me.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When you know the difference, you know
how it feels when He whispers inside.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And it's those whispers received that
are the mimicking of David reaching for that smooth stone in his
pouch with a Goliath roaring in front of him.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And there's a wave of courage flowing
around us as prayers have filled the air between us and the good One
and those He will place in front of us here.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's in those places where I must hold
on to His Truths, otherwise i'll never make it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We are welcomed with kind handshakes,
hugs, and the warmest of eyes.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We walk into the sweet hillside church
made of quarried stones with wooden rafters holding a tin
roof above us. It's
a church that holds His children. It's like a fox-hole dug out in the middle of a battlefield. It's a place
provided to tuck in, a rampart, a hiding place. And it's here that
rest can be felt and dry cups can
be filled.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9RyUINPRnDK_BICDjoROxvMfLEIDcD6BuDpubp7whanfqMNjJFdY5vsh5ovD9pJ1Sdf5JFUpaJHsxz6h6ekvj9ILMDOA7yS6y0i5zsCtoFJZ1a734O5FLKbGrVnVglB1azZw3AD9Df71k/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9RyUINPRnDK_BICDjoROxvMfLEIDcD6BuDpubp7whanfqMNjJFdY5vsh5ovD9pJ1Sdf5JFUpaJHsxz6h6ekvj9ILMDOA7yS6y0i5zsCtoFJZ1a734O5FLKbGrVnVglB1azZw3AD9Df71k/s320/unnamed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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There are lovely Kenyan ladies leading
the songs being sung by the Kenyan girls standing before them. It's
the way we know our Father loves it to be done. Let the “mommas”
of the land who love Him deeply, lead the girls of the land who
wonder (about God) as they wander (in hard places) and watch (for
goodness). We are to support these “mommas”, making sure <u>His
Truth</u> is handed out, and doing the part we can beside them. Eyes
should not come to us and land there --- I watch so closely to be
sure they don't land for too long on us. We are not the
answer........ but we know the One who is. The wrestling now, in
front of these dear girls, is to be sure they shift their eyes from
us, and settle them on the Good Father who whispered to us concerning
them.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They must somehow come to see, that God
is good and He sees them, He cares for them, He has responded to
them. We are simply carriers.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Like pigeon-carriers ---- I love that
those pigeon's just do their part when they feel the message clipped
to their foot and their wings are released to fly. They go where
they've been taught to go, carrying a vitally important message with
them. And never does that pigeon puff itself up and think it's done
something big. It's just thankful to find a receiving hand on the
other end of its journey. It has no real knowing of the important
work the messenger is able to accomplish through it's willingness to
fly and land where it's been told to go. Now we, are a bit different
than a pigeon, yes. But --- even as we might think we know a bit
about the message we are delivering --- do we really know the
fullness of the flow being delivered into the hearts and minds to
these girls --- the flow from the Messenger to them? We know it in
part, but we can not know it fully. Our minds can't conceive all that
HE is able to do; our minds can only grasp it in part.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I love that.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Why? Because it matches the other side
of this in front of us. We've been told of the horrors these
beautiful young ladies face ---- even seen the evidences of their
wounds. But truthfully, I do not KNOW the depths of the pain they
feel. My mind can not fully conceive their thoughts or sorrows or
griefs or needs. My mind is so limited. But not the mind of God. He
knows them deeply, completely, He knows their going out and their
coming in, He knows the purposes He knit into them, and the He knows
the way to actually use their pain to strengthen them towards His
plans for their futures. And He knows that His plans for them are
good IF they will love Him and allow His purposes to guide them out
of the pain. He is the One who can use all things, even the things
intended for deep harm, He can use them for great good if we will
allow Him to.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So I see --- I don't know the fullness
of the work of the Messenger --- and I don't know the fullness of
their depths of suffering. I know each piece ---- in part. But what I
do know is that the One can meet the other perfectly ---- and my part
is to help defeat the enemy's lies and bring His Light to their
darkness. My part is to connect the good One right into the middle of
the pain.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
HE IS NOT AFRAID.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He will go straight to the center of
their suffering. And He will do things there, that no eye has seen or
heart can fully understand. But He will do it. He knows what is
needed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He is the Giver of that Peace that
passes understanding.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I don't have to understand it all. But
I know it is true. I know it is good. I know goodness and light do
defeat darkness and evil.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So we reach in our pockets for the
smooth stones. And we do the part that we understand.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJG0vrbE9BDDyF5mgPBwcIUaPjW-_EPUYsCVzuOFnAA9eACTusgvOi4Iu4DF0OvXqRHBbz6X59jUja1WJgeh7i3GFb0adtedt7iJQKwURS2npp-2ZR69rfEqzLAWtHXfBRmmApSnmcs8G/s1600/DSC_4147.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJG0vrbE9BDDyF5mgPBwcIUaPjW-_EPUYsCVzuOFnAA9eACTusgvOi4Iu4DF0OvXqRHBbz6X59jUja1WJgeh7i3GFb0adtedt7iJQKwURS2npp-2ZR69rfEqzLAWtHXfBRmmApSnmcs8G/s320/DSC_4147.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We divided into small groups for a time of Q&A, prayer, and sharing of hearts.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
These beautiful girls have washed
themselves carefully, cleaned their school uniforms tediously. (No
one else washes what they wear.) They look so good, they are doing
their best. I've lived here long enough to understand their unspoken
messages sent through their eyes. They wonder... do you know what
i've done? Do you know what I face?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And my eyes speak back, I know. And I
see you. And you are trying to be brave. And you matter so much. And
i'm glad you came today. And you are seen by the One who is bigger
than your pain. And you are important to Him. You are loved, really
loved. No matter the muddiness of your world.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's deep heart-soul work.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
To not fixate on what they face in
their lives. But instead to fixate intensely on the importance of the
note tied to my heart for them. To focus only on the heart of the
Messenger, His message to them, to their hearts.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Focusing on the surface lands the
message only on the surface.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Meeting their hearts is the heart of
the Messenger.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJR8J2z6KeJ8A_wbGkvrEdo1t47w1js4LkmG390lWyydu2-TX_vDSuRKv5780EeyCfzqMO34zFa8HQWVmug7JVUVpwOINYTCwShmglI9JrOTF5AAq0HA6-FTmV2YEFevJI6BvqrL9LUIg/s1600/DSC_4142.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJR8J2z6KeJ8A_wbGkvrEdo1t47w1js4LkmG390lWyydu2-TX_vDSuRKv5780EeyCfzqMO34zFa8HQWVmug7JVUVpwOINYTCwShmglI9JrOTF5AAq0HA6-FTmV2YEFevJI6BvqrL9LUIg/s320/DSC_4142.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Small group time with some of the younger attenders. Quillen supported as Emily led the group. Emily grew up on the mountain herself --- she knows first hand the challenges these girls face. She also works with us at ICM/ATS.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
These girls live in a place where few
parents can afford to meet their needs. School fees alone usually
overwhelm their pockets. In a country where school is said to be
free, somehow there are still fees each term that are nearly
impossible for most families living on the mountainside to produce.
(Corruption?)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Their nice school uniform is one of the
requirements ($$).
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They are required to stay in a boarding
school since travel each day would be impossible since there are no
“good” schools within walking distance. (keep in mind that even
an “good school” here is so very different that what those words
might make you think). Boarding school ($$)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
School supplies, books, note-pads,
soaps (for body and laundry), all needs that must be met while away
at school --- ($$$).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Parents will go without food themselves
in effort to TRY and give their child a different life. And here that
different life comes through getting an education. ($$) And how
thankful we are that parents are now willing to send their daughters
to school. In some places, and for decades, only sons were allowed to
go to school.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But when the girl grows into a young
woman, and the “monthlies” begin to come. Few parents have the
extra $ to buy pads for her. At home, they can use rags, washed
daily. But at school, there usually isn't enough water provided to
wash those rags. (Having enough water for basic needs is a challenge
in many boarding schools here.) And the girls are so embarrassed to
hang those private things beside their beds at night ---- since there
are some girls who have “disposables”. Can you believe a world
where having disposables each month becomes a “status” and a tool
used in peer-pressure?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There is a real NEED. I can't put more
words to it than that. It might seem so small in some worlds --- but
in their world it is a mountain.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So how has evil responded to that need.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Dirty, twisted, depraved men living on
the mountain seek out the needy girls and offer to “sponsor” them
each month. When the girl goes to be “sponsored” he will then ask
how she can repay him for his “kindness” to her. She knows what
he wants. It's the o-n-l-y thing she has to give. She gives. She
loses. But------ she is not “shamed” <u>at school</u> when the
monthly comes. She is able to attend classes, and work to keep her
grades up. High grades please teachers and parents. Low grades bring
severe punishment from both. Keeping in mind too that the one thing
she is able to “give” to the dirty man, is something that was
likely already taken from her during her childhood. It's a different
world --- where darkness has won for too long.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Recently the government became alarmed
at the growing number of pregnant girls (11-13 years old) living on
the slopes of the mountain. They did studies, created reports, wrote
a few articles, and admonished the schools for not having tighter
control. One school official said, “These girls are causing so many
problems for us...”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When all this happened, the dirty-men
told the girls to no longer call them “sponsors”, but instead to
begin calling them their “prayer-partners”, since few people
would ever question her willingness to seek out prayers............</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When this occurred, some girls shared
with their REAL prayer-partners, ladies at the church. And that's how
it came to be that our messenger-feet found this space.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This team of four Kenyan ladies began
praying for God to open up a way for them to provide for the needs of
these girls. Nearly a quarter of the girls in the area have become
pregnant over the past year. Almost all because of the dirty-men
using them.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One of these ladies asked me to pray
for them, for God to help them help these girls.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6X8d3A9hBIddGKcA7kXabeYxtVoXYGDU718hUpA0ctH8ZYHhk-rM-m4dE9jO3-Rn9_l6RBPDl-rGAn-QYgFOhYVZq2bYcBuIh3ZUcRHNxkXr6-3qSmR25EjnrVL4m3utf2PNqokj2GAzk/s1600/IMG_0969.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="372" data-original-width="640" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6X8d3A9hBIddGKcA7kXabeYxtVoXYGDU718hUpA0ctH8ZYHhk-rM-m4dE9jO3-Rn9_l6RBPDl-rGAn-QYgFOhYVZq2bYcBuIh3ZUcRHNxkXr6-3qSmR25EjnrVL4m3utf2PNqokj2GAzk/s320/IMG_0969.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All together -- a nurse, lawyer, secretary, student, Bishop, teacher, and church leader. These dear Kenyan ladies will continue the monthly work as true prayer-partners, mentors, and suppliers of needed feminine products. We're so thankful for them!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After 3 weeks of earnest prayers ----
my heart was broken for the ladies, the girls, the families –
broken through and through.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sharing my heart through writing to
those who walk closely with us --- within 2 weeks, God had responded,
through His kids. And the four Kenyan ladies saw doors open before
their eyes. Provision for needs can be met --- through TRUE
prayer-warriors.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As we sat off to the side, that day in
the church, 3 Kenyan ladies taught them many truths. They invited us
to share words as well, words to encourage the girls, to strengthen
them in their resolve to understand that now they actually have a
choice!!!! (and this choice will be theirs forever, in Jesus'
name).They can choose freedom from false “prayer-partners” and
instead a new walk beside true-prayer-warriors.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Each girl left with supplies for the
next 3 months. (And the knowing that at the beginning of each term of
school, they can come to the Kenyan ladies and receive their needed
supplies for the entire term.) She will have all she will need to
care for herself personally. The One who made her will provide for
her, through His kids, because He asked and they responded. Messages
clipped to feet ---- that can speak to hearts.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's not so much about responding to
needs in “perfect” ways. It's about responding with Abba's heart
gushing through our hands.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I grow weary sometimes of critical
evaluations assessing if, when, why needs should be responded to.
How? (perhaps assessing the validity of motives for helping).... do
they really deserve it ?(implying this is their fault).... will it
really solve their problems ?(implying the problem wall is too big to
chip away at).... even words of “how do you think you can actually
help them”? (Oh God knows --- the weakness that keeps me on my
knees)... ?? (by the way, none of the questionings came from
beautiful supporters – instead they are found in books written to
try and curb ineffectual giving to uninformed doers --- and those
questionings are definitely worth spending time sorting through.) But
how it wearies the soul when questions build walls that keep love
from flowing.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love doesn't say you have to accomplish
the final product. Love says --- each step counts and the One who IS
LOVE is using each step towards the Omega of it all.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love can only win if it
moves/responds/acts.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiPnCpoc5EOztFFOMRv_4TrOVcCJKo_P1c6O_tK8mprlwCBFOzrIMyMEp3SYtUBCSP6vlnLv-V6ecvCLtG6Nq2giFcF1ayQoFNhttDd0YTTWGZewB23J2MQqiJEm7sCN990iuGKQ3RItDp/s1600/IMG_0946.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiPnCpoc5EOztFFOMRv_4TrOVcCJKo_P1c6O_tK8mprlwCBFOzrIMyMEp3SYtUBCSP6vlnLv-V6ecvCLtG6Nq2giFcF1ayQoFNhttDd0YTTWGZewB23J2MQqiJEm7sCN990iuGKQ3RItDp/s320/IMG_0946.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steve playing with children from the surrounding community while we are with the girls.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love standing still, and critically
assessing every angle, accomplishes nothing. And does real love
actually do that?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love washes dirt away --- with
living-water.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love is God's response.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love ran red on the cross.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love isn't afraid to get its hands
dirty.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love knows the gush of living water can
wash away the dirt that clings.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love in action --- Faith not fear ---
renewed Hope ---- these ride on wings of carrier
pigeons-with-souls-in-mind.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="color: #545454;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for </span></span></span></span></span><em><span style="color: #6a6a6a;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>good
men</b></span></span></span></span></em><em><span style="color: #545454;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>
</b></span></span></span></span></em><span style="color: #545454;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">to
</span></span></span></span></span><em><span style="color: #6a6a6a;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>do
nothing</b></span></span></span></span></em><span style="color: #545454;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">.”</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #545454;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~Edmund
Burke</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">What
makes any of us good? What makes a man or woman good? It all hinges
on what fills them and leads them and compels them to respond. It's
their willingness to let the GOOD ONE live inside them, and respond
through them. No person is good. Only the choice to love the Good ONE
above all else, can bring them out of darkness; and there we find
what is good. </span></span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">So
may I humbly edit Mr. Burke's quote to more fully say --- </span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">“The only
thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for the goodness of God to
be hindered by timid men, causing them to do nothing.”</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Oh
God, give us your strength to carry Your goodness........ and then
---- let us come home. </span></span></span></span>
</div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(What
gratitude we feel for the many who responded to our email asking for
help for these girls. The response was more than we ever dreamed it
would be. We had prayed and asked God for a certain amount --- we
went to our knees as God multiplied the amount we asked Him for --- 5
times over. The girls on the mountain slopes in this one area will
have their needs met ---- for a long, long time. Now, they have a
real choice --- they can be free from the user-abusers, and feel
cared for by the One who responded to the prayers of many concerning
them. And may they see “the goodness of the Lord in the land of the
living”!!!!)</i></span></span></span></div>
Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-81490127037398467192017-03-22T22:11:00.001-07:002017-03-22T22:11:22.241-07:00Brokenness --- finding a new way in and old wave<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Part 1 – it happens... things get
broken
</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She shared words that were hard in
coming. Words that told a story she wished had never been written. I
said in the softest flow of air, “You can't stop what's happened,
but you can choose a different ending than the one you're in now.”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No vase would choose to be shattered.
No heart asks to be broken. And when things break, the world would
say it has been ruined. It is useless, it is finished.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But the world is wrong......... again.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because the One who is above all things
looks at that same brokenness in a wiser way, with a keener eye. He
says He can bring beauty from a pile of ashes --- He can bring
streams of water in the desert --- He can take what seems ruined
------------- and make it------ new.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's the way of brokenness.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Few will invite it to come. Most refuse
its approach. Usually we have no choice.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So rather than allow it to complete
it's work in us, we fight it --- deny it ---- medicate it ----- run
from it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When we've known the hammer blows of
personal brokenness, and lived to see the smoothing out of something
rough in us, then we begin to understand it.s importance. But until
we've known its effectual work, we struggle to sit still in its
unsettling presence.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's one of the huge differences
between living in a first world place and a third world place. The
contrast is stark. In a third world environment, there are few ways
to escape the “thing” that is working to break you. You have no
option, you can't simply go to another place and begin doing a
different thing. Need and hunger hold you still. But in a first world
place, there are options, choices, ways to get away from the thing
that is pressing down. You can pick up and move, get another job,
leave the spouse that's hurting you, get in your car and drive to a
new life.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But what if you're a child and the
brokenness is coming to your parent, who is not covering you, and
their brokenness rolls into your little world. You can't escape it.
(In a third world country like Kenya --- this is exactly how many
street children come about. They do run --- to the street. And a
different, mean, worldly kind of broken begins to breathe.)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Or what if the breaking is coming in
the form of a disease. Even in a first world place, there's no way to
hide from it's impact.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's just that brokenness is a
universal thing --- it comes in every corner --- and to everyone.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yet when it comes to us, when it's
painfully personal and standing on our doorstep, we can feel so
alone. Alone is not good. We were not created for aloneness.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She knew that something was <i>gravely</i>
wrong. Tears came as her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our toes dug into the sand, we watched
families playing in the waves, the sun began to set. She'd endured
life, and worked to overcome much pain, but her past was haunting her
present and fear was crashing in again.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Grave – it's the right word for it.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She could smell the pungent stench of
death, her eyes could only see the struggle around her. And her
strength, all of it, was being consumed (and wasted) on trying to
maintain, survive, endure, and find a way to defeat the problems
before her. And they weren't just her problems anymore. They were the
problems being lived out in the lives of her children now ---- their
hurts carried a faint echo of her own even though they knew nothing
of her story. She had held it silent for all her 60 decades.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It looked exactly as though the other
person in this painful “Life-Play”, was the cause of the stench.
It was their sin, their fault, their wrongdoings that caused the
problems. (And to a very large degree, this was oh-so-true!)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If they would just change....</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or perhaps if they had just
disappeared...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“could they just go away please?”...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Then this suffocating dust could
settle and the sun might shine again and life could get back on
course... perhaps happiness could then come.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But as surely as that solution seems so
right ------ it would only be a temporal reprieve. For that would be
the outward way of “relief” --- not the inward way of “healing”.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When the struggle inside us collides
with the hammering-tool outside us (the situation, the person, the
sickness, the “problem”), our eyes become fixed on IT, the
problem. We put our focus on IT. We laser in on it. And all our mind
can think on is “if this thing was changed, I could find peace”.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
IT is the problem. Right?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But what of the Holy Words that say,
“In this world you will have trouble. But do not be afraid. For I
have overcome the world”.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Doesn't that mean that in this old
world, there are going to be so many “its”? Struggles will
abound. Problems are “normal”. Oh but I cringe even typing those
words.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a hard reality --- not a sparkly,
feel good truth --- it's raw.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Troubles come ----- then they go ----
then others come -----
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The woe-is-me-soul would want to throw
in the towel and give up on life. But not the Jesus-in-me-soul.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Have you ever walked on the ocean's
shore, sand under you, sun above you, and waves steadily pounding
beside you? There's a rhythm to the steadiness of it all; on most
days it comforts us in some inner way.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then the sun gets too hot and we long
for the coolness of the water. We inch our way in, toes first.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As she spoke, the waves beside us
seemed to speak as well, “keep going, we're not shocked by anything
you might say”. They invited her every word, they were not afraid.
Waves know what to do with the dirt of life.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The cool waters feel good to our feet,
so we keep moving forward. As we make progress into the waters, we
come to that place where the waves crest. Where they peak and then
fold, tumbling down in a ribbon of white rush. That's the line where,
if the wave has any size, we might get knocked down. When we walk to
the line of the rolling waves, we either choose to let it knock us
over OR we choose to lean into it.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The former means the wave is unbroken
and <b>it will carry us where it wants to</b>. That's usually a whirl
of confusion in foaming, sandy waters.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But the latter means<b> the wave line
is broken</b> and we find ourselves still standing on the other side
of the impact.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Either way ----<u><b> something gets
broken</b></u>--- either the wave line is breeched or we are.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you've ever found yourself coming
against a big wave in the ocean, you know this, you have to brace
yourself, even crouch down, bend your knees and lean forward to be
able to endure the impact.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For me ---- those big waves require
that I ---- bend my knees.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I've never once conquered a wave with
straight, board-like legs.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Try it sometime if you never have ---
you can't do it.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's the bending of my knees that gives
me balance.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>It's the bending of our knees that
gives us balance.</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Part 2 --- Facing the waves wisely</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In this sharing, the waves represent
the “in this world you will have trouble” part of that verse.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Unbent knees, stiffness, will not serve
us well when facing those waves.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bent knees, a lowering of ourselves,
better allows us to withstand the impact, and find ourselves in a new
place. We're not bending our knees to give in to the trouble --- no,
we're bending our knees to balance ourselves against its impact.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Have you ever noticed how calm the
water is just beyond the wave line? (calm at least until the next
wave comes)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Too often we might think of the wave
line as the place where we should become strong, rigid, firm. We
think if we get tough, we can beat the wave. But it's not our
strength that will get us on the other side of the impact.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
More Holy Words speak directly to this
thought of rigid strength winning. “Not by power, not by might, but
by my Spirit say the Lord.” (Zechariah 4:6)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The way of the world says, get
stronger, meaner, tougher --- fight fire with fire --- if they hurt
you, you hurt them more.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But that world-way doesn't fit with the
Abba-way. Jesus showed us clearly. His greatest show of strength came
on that cross; He stayed there during the breaking. Then His greatest
show of power came at the mouth of that tomb.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our willingness to<u> face the “wave”
wisely</u> (because <i>“in this world you will have trouble”</i>),
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
to “bend our knees” (<i>“do not be
afraid”)</i>, and choose to focus on the calmer waters beyond (<i>“for I
have overcome the world”</i>), (<i>John 16:33</i>)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
------ this will carry us through.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's not the removal of the wave that
is needed.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The waves are there ---- they will
always be there ---- they will not be removed --- until Heaven.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If it's not this person, it will be
another person. If it's not this challenge, it will be another like
it. If it's not this unkind situation, it will be another. The waves
are always there.......</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
(and if we can r-e-a-l-l-y understand
this at a soul-deep-level, we'll find a storehouse of grace and mercy
for those around us who are being tossed about in waves of
brokenness)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's not the removal of the waves that
will finally bring us happiness or peace or calm.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's our willingness to face them, and
<u>allow our bended knees</u> to break the impact that will bring us
to new places in life.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
What happens to the wave?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you've ever bent your knees, lowered
yourself, closed your eyes, held your breath, and leaned forward into
a wave, you find that you can endure it. The whirl of its waters
will pass by. Then the wave continues on to where it was going. But
it has not carried you with it. It might even lift your feet off the
ocean floor briefly, but if we keep our positioning, it can not carry
us with it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Therefore ----- our stance does not
change the wave. We can not change the waves. We can not complain
about them enough, argue with them enough, fight back against them
enough, or in any way alter them. We have no control over the wave.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
What we can do ---- what we do have a
control over --- is how we choose to face it. It is our only chance
at altering the outcome.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It can either throw us backwards onto
the shore and crash its waters all over us OR we can choose to bend
our knees, lower our center, and lean into it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The waves of life ------</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
they might intimidate us with their
size, they might hit hard when they come, but oh --- with bent knees
and a “lowering of self”, they will not push us backwards into
old places.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So this means that I can't face the
waves without <u>bending my knees</u> and <u>lowering my center of
gravity</u>.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Those two things must be in place ----
two things that will allow a breakthrough --- but two things that
will also allow a “breaking” in me.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a very different kind of
“breaking”. Not the brokenness that comes from the hand of
another; it's rather a brokenness that comes IN the hands of the
FATHER.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bending my knees is that visual
reference to praying. Bending myself, no stiffness of leg or heart or
mind or emotion. (This is a hard thing to do if we're stuck in the “i
must defeat it” mode.) Bending my everything to HIM, not it or
them. It means I must grab hold of His robes, look for His way,
choose His hand on my heart. No more shaking my fist at the wave.
Instead choosing His way in the wave. Trusting that He really is good
and He truly can carry me through the impact(s) of this life and in
so doing, He will be washing me with each wave, He will be washing
something from me that needed to go. Something I hadn't even realized
was stuck to me. And when I will allow the truth to really come
through --- i'll realize the stench that i'd faced so often, thinking
it was on the other, was actually also on me.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Only Abba can wash that stench away
with His blood. But because of His sacrifice on the Cross, He can
also use the waves of life to help us, as we bend our knee to Him.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For just a few lines, i'll share of one
wave that repeatedly crashed into my world and left me covered in
scratchy sand. For all my life i've been eager for friendship. Even
as a little girl, having friends around me, good friends, meant all
was right with my world. Somehow I was wired to enjoy friendship. But
throughout my life there have been sad stories of friendships gone
wrong. Not all my friendships, thank God --- for there are many who
have journeyed closely with me for all my days. What a gift. But
still there have been several key friends who I treasured so much,
who i walked closely beside, but then suddenly they stepped away, and
disappeared, sometimes even hurting me in the process. Never once did
any of those “friends” come to tell me what i'd done to cause
their rejection. Even if I went to her and asked “why?”, there
would be no reason given. Just an abandonment of the friendship ----
and i'd be leveled by the wave. Some people, of different
temperaments than mine, don't care so much when a friend moves on.
But it's been a wave that has pounded me at least 3 hard times in my
life. The last time this hard wave came, I lifted myself up to Jesus
and said, “Please help me, I need help here, this hurts too, too
much.” I bent my knees to Him, lowered my center (myself and how I
felt), and asked Him to wash me, wash off of me what needed to go to
be healed from the inside out.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And He showed me something IN ME that
He wanted to “clean up” (change).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The wave can wash us. It might not
touch the one who has hurt us, but it can wash us in good ways.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
What was it in me that needed to go?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
What needed to be washed away?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He was jealous for my focus. He did not
want me to be so focused on that friend, what they thought, how they
cared or didn't care, if they responded or walked away. He did not
want their actions towards me to matter nearly as much as I was
allowing it to matter. He wanted me to lean in to HIM, and not lament
over them. Period. It was that simple. And in the bending of my knees
in the wave, Jesus said, “Pray for them, give them to me, i'll deal
with them, YOU FOCUS ON ME, I will never leave you.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
John 21:22 came alive for me, <i>“If
I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? As
for you, you follow me.”</i> Paraphrased and personal for me it
became, <i>“If I want them to... (step away from you), what's that
to you donna? As for you --- my instruction is clear to you,
you----follow----me.”</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yes, this is a small thing in life
right? For some it is. For others it can be debilitating. For me it
was bigger than it should have been. I'm letting you see the bottom
side of my scrapings as i dare share it here. But, the point is ----
waves come in different sizes and with different strengths. Small or
big --- if a wave (a trouble in this world) has the strength to knock
us down, then it needs to be handled carefully, faced wisely, and
dealt with completely. It needs to be approached and measured and
honestly laid before the One who will use it for good in our lives,
if we'll hold His hand at the wave-line. Bent knees. A lowering of
“me”, my center of gravity (what holds me in the right place).
Little or big, if something wounds, then when the wave comes again,
as it always will, we can learn to let it wash something off us that
needs to go!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Next time you find yourself near those
strong ocean waves, do yourself a favor and let yourself experience a
visual of this. Don't laugh at me here, resist the urge to roll your
eyes (cause you're gonna want to...).
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Find a spot on the beach all to
yourself. This is not a spectator “sport”.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Carry a bottle of ketchup with you, the
cheaper the better.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Stand at the shoreline and pour that
ketchup all over your arms and legs. You'll feel goofy for sure, but
only for a second or two. Then walk your sauce-covered-self out into
the water up to the wave-line. Bend your knees and lower your center
of gravity, brace yourself for the waves, don't let them break you
--- instead you break their line. Stay there for wave, after wave,
after wave. With each wave you'll find you get more accustomed to the
stance you need to have, how low you need to go, how much you need to
bend your knees. You'll get tired, yes. But you'll get wiser in the
ebb and flo of those waves. Let 10, 12, 15 waves come and go, then
turn and walk back to the shore. Look at your arms and legs. Is there
any red ketchup left? There won't be. What was on you will have been
washed from you as you focused on bending your knees and lowering
yourself.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Is it a silly visual or a solid picture
of truth? (maybe both) :)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now, be honest with yourself and with
the One who already knows the answer to every question. What's the
cheap ketchup mess in your life? What is stuck to you that needs to
go? (Because if it gets to stay it will bring a world-brokenness
inside you.) How many times have you felt its stickiness in your
life? Be honest with God about it ---- right now ---- and ask Him to
help you as you bend your knees (pray over it again and again), and
then lower yourself before HIM (so He can increase Himself in you).
Ask Him to show you the new way you need to allow a cleansing
brokenness (from HIM) to wash the sticky mess away. It won't happen
in a day --- or even a week --- for me it almost always takes a
steadiness in many waves to finally walk back to the shoreline and
feel “clean of it”. But begin today dear one. Begin today.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Part 3 – Wash me Lord, use those waves
to wash me – Broken for GOOD.</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lowering yourself, lowering your
“center” of gravity so the wave doesn't catch you off balance and
throw you backwards is the picture of John 3:30 <i>“I must decrease
and He must increase.”</i> Oh how we struggle in the living out of
those 7 little words. For we think we must increase, we must get
stronger, we must press our point or win the fight or prove them
wrong or take our revenge in order to beat “the wave”. But this,
dear one, is the lie of the evil one.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We can not beat the waves with stiff,
strong, unbent legs.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We can not stop them from coming, we
can not alter them.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But if we will decrease (let go of what
needs to be washed away from us) ---- as we choose to increase Him,
choose Him at the center, raise Him up in the lowering of “me”,
then we find there is a bedrock strength that can stand in the wave.
It is He who then causes the wave to wash us, as it passes by, and we
find ourselves in a strange new place of still waters.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Watchman Nee writes so beautifully of
this lowering of our center --- but his words call it a choosing of
brokenness, an allowance of God's dealings. His book “The Release
of the Spirit” has filled my plate of late, and opened my eyes to
much.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Brokenness.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Brokenness is something to be avoided
if it's only being used to destroy; where the waves of life keep
throwing us down on old shores laced with boulders and sharp edges.
This is the brokenness that comes when the world wins and ashes
remain.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But --- the brokenness Jesus guides us
towards, is something to be embraced. It's a revelation of being able
to see what in us needs to go, what needs to grow, and what needs to
change. It's a realization of our inability and His ability which
compels us to bend our knees. We see the need to lower our center of
gravity; allowing ourselves, our will, our attitude, our
my-way-mentality to be broken and washed away. And after the work of
this kind of brokenness is complete, we find ourselves standing in a
new place. A place we thought we could only arrive at if “they”
or “it” changed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Instead we find, ----- the thing that
needed to change, was something in us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now ---- perhaps “they” or “it”
are a serious issue, a real problem, a troublesome thing to endure.
No doubt there are those grievous people and painful situations that
cause much angst in our lives.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Certainly change is needed in them as
well.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But just as we have not power over the
wave ------ we know, we have not power to change them.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Keeping our focus set on them, will rob
us two-fold. We'll never see the good possibilities of bending our
knees and increasing Christ-in-me and we'll never know what life
could have been like after the wave-line was broken and the stuff
stuck to us washed away.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The answer is not found in running from
the waves. The answer is found in overcoming them by facing them
wisely.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Brokenness.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Life is a constant remodeling taking us
from what was to new places of what can be. But in order to get
there, we must be willing to let the One who made us, carry us
through the waves. And He can only do that when we bend our knees and
lower ourselves in His hands.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He will deal with those who wrong us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He knows --- He sees --- He will deal
with them. And a fearsome dealing it might be. (Makes me cringe to
think of it, it compels me to pray for them.)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But never forget, He's also watching to
see how we respond to the wave-lines in life. Do we lean into Him,
bend our knees and lower ourselves as He increases in us? Or do we
rigidly fight the impacts of life and struggle in the surf after
being knocked down again?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<i>For the eyes of the LORD run to
and fro throughout the whole earth, to show himself strong in the
behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward Him.”2 Chronicles 16:9
KJV</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
... in my kindergarten way of thinking
this verse through, this I know to be solid-rock truth....
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I can not even begin to have a “heart
perfect toward Him” if I have not become practiced in bending my
knees, lowering myself, and facing the waves of life. Letting the
waves flow over me in such a way that what needed to be removed
inside me is washed away and my eyes are found set like flint on Him.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh Lord, help her (the many “hers”
--- and the many “hims” too).
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh Lord, help me.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh Lord, help us all.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Wash us again and again -------</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hold us steady in the waves Daddy-GOD.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We trust Your dealings with us on the
path of brokenness. You can take our rough selves and find the
diamond inside.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The world's dealings with us brings a
brokenness that takes our rough stone-selves and pummels us into sand
--- where little if anything remains.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Two kinds of brokenness.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One destroys --- the other “makes
things new”.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We choose you and your way Father.</div>
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Don't let us miss seeing what you see,
when you look at us.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-16301839040684098902017-01-04T06:43:00.000-08:002017-01-04T06:43:32.140-08:00Count it all Joy...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikMoq0GsW_LDWC8WCPLwVjWGU6_KbNZ0XO6zNchI7_sKJ3ufhbdW0ch2Ow5Nmv5Tycd6hxc0Xrz5JXPRcBcuA_CqVSmzIvF7e9IpGy0ZJilR95nH5xagMtrK0AcqiiOopTeJtEcv22aLOa/s1600/DSC_2684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikMoq0GsW_LDWC8WCPLwVjWGU6_KbNZ0XO6zNchI7_sKJ3ufhbdW0ch2Ow5Nmv5Tycd6hxc0Xrz5JXPRcBcuA_CqVSmzIvF7e9IpGy0ZJilR95nH5xagMtrK0AcqiiOopTeJtEcv22aLOa/s320/DSC_2684.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Joy is a choice.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Long ago someone boldly said to me they
believed LOVE was a choice, and i cringed a bit.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
His wife had confessed her
unfaithfulness in their marriage; even admitting she had been with
other men while carrying their unborn child inside her. What a
challenging thing for a husband to face.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But his response ---- “love is a
choice – and i will not let her choice alter mine --- i choose to
love.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was such a profound moment. It
shifted something important inside of me.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It is true. Completely and unavoidably
true. Love is a choice. We choose to love or we choose not to love.
It's not their fault if we don't love them, and it's not to their
credit if we do. It's all on us, our choice.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<u><b>The same is true with joy.</b></u></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Too often we get caught up in the whirl
of circumstances and stress, letting them dictate to us how we should
feel. And some days can take our breath away --- in not-good-ways.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But, we <b>always</b> hold the key to
<b>how</b> we will choose to respond. No one else holds our key.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And i believe God in Heaven smiles with
delight and nods His great head when we choose to lift our eyes above
the world-mess-stress; choosing to remember we are dearly loved by
Him and HE IS THE ONE WHO IS ABOVE ALL THINGS.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He can take what was intended for harm
and use it for good.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He holds the earth on its axis and the
stars in the universe.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He saves the world through a baby.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He saves our souls through the shed
blood of His Son.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Joy immeasurable is ours because He
lives, we're saved, we have a home, the King is our Daddy.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Joy is a choice.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We can get distracted and deceived to
the point that we even forget it's an option on the buffet He
prepares daily for our consumption.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
That's the game plan of the enemy ---
to keep us from even remembering ---- JOY is an option we can choose
anywhere, anytime.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One way to keep our hearts and minds
better able to remember what's on the buffet is Philippians 4:8 --
“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever
is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable --- if anything is
excellent or praiseworthy --- think on such things...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then the Word says --- “and the God
of peace will be with you...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Peace and Joy hold hands --- they are
tight with one another.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So for JOY to be chosen, we must manage
where we allow our thoughts to dwell, we must grab hold of what's
good and go with it. There is always a good to grab hold of (we might
have to look for it, but there is always a good option)--- joy is a
choice.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For me --- <u><b>i'm actively choosing
to set the stage for joy</b></u>--- for the goodness of the Lord to
be seen center stage,
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
when i :</div>
<ul>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Redirect my thoughts from what has
grabbed my attention, and choose to guide my thoughts to where they
need to be.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Notice the flower, the cloud, feel
the wind, hear the bird-song.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Light the candle before i pick up
His Word in the dark hours of morning.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Become captivated by the giggles
of a child – thanking God for good people caring for her.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hear my husband's snores as if
their reminders that again tonight... he chose me to rest beside.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Reframe the actions of the rude
driver --- instead choosing to consider they might be rushing to the
hospital and need my prayers or they might be rushing to a toilet
because they have diarrhea.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lingering long enough to see the
kindness between two aged-people holding hands as they walk, smiling
as they've chosen to wait for each other.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Pushing through doubt, and
choosing to memorize the verse that helps us. Letting our mind go to
that verse wherever we are, because we're choosing those words
instead of...</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Saying no to the
couch/tv/phone/computer and yes to conversation that lets the people
around us know --- we see them, we chose them.</div>
</li>
</ul>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The list is infinite. All the ways we
can choose specs of JOY instead of robotic responses to life that
might very well leave us feeling drained and tired.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Joy has the essence of living
intentionally ---- not reacting wearily.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When we take the wrong turn and allow
our joy to be connected to another person or place or circumstance,
we make it really easy for the enemy of our Lord to pull the rug out
from under our feet. Because no person, place, or situation can bear
that load. They're not built for that purpose, it's not their
responsibility.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When Jesus said, “It is finished”
on the cross He was breathing out the option of JOY onto any who
would be willing to see it, and grab hold. But first we must see HIM.
Joy comes from Him.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ben Carson's mother once told him,
given his good mind and good God, that if he (Ben) was not wildly
successful it would be all his fault. (paraphrased a bit but that was
the charge she gave him)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
i have learned and applied this same
way of thinking to the “choice for joy”.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Remembering all that has been done for
me, and all the options before me, if i do not choose to
live-with-joy ------ it will be all my own fault.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There may be days of tears (there will
be), but the flowers will still bloom, the stars will still shine.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
At the end of the day ----- what i
choose ------ is mine.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But what of those who suffer intensely,
those trapped in places of horrific pain and injustice. What of the
sick who agonize with gripping, shooting, breath-taking pain? Am i
supposing that joy could still be a choice for them?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's in those very arenas that knees
begin to tremble and the questions will try and wipe the Holy verses
out of our head. The verses that keep the belt of Truth buckled. If
those verses can be overwhelmed in the midst of suffering, then, joy
can float down the rushing river like a life-boat cut loose from its
ship. Those are perilous, ominous waters to be adrift in.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So, let's be brave and look into those
places where darkness crashes in and birds might stop singing.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I think of Daniel --- he was a real man
---- he wasn't just a long-ago-character in a story.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He was a stellar person on all sides.
Even though he had been kidnapped from his childhood home, he still
worked to always do the right thing and press himself to excellence.
He worshiped God, served the king, and wisdom was his running-mate.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But there came the day when he found
himself in a lions den ---- because he wouldn't succumb to a wrongly
placed ruling. Was it possible Daniel allowed joy to stay inside him
as he descended those steps into the growling pit?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWp7tf-3aqLXkf-4lTbQbdGbRuKo9MteuodEoB9mzD5r_FQgq9AcOUFMXPSndIF0YEQJmW5U_eFm4aaD3r1qUZEIuxesFYleN9uJKUJV3DTLSXxLyuOdT-olF6usBcnHnaXFzFjwxp219D/s1600/Daniellion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWp7tf-3aqLXkf-4lTbQbdGbRuKo9MteuodEoB9mzD5r_FQgq9AcOUFMXPSndIF0YEQJmW5U_eFm4aaD3r1qUZEIuxesFYleN9uJKUJV3DTLSXxLyuOdT-olF6usBcnHnaXFzFjwxp219D/s320/Daniellion.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Or what of the day he watched his three
closest friends, those he had been kidnapped with and had served
beside for years, being wrongfully thrown into a fiery furnace? Could
joy have been present as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego stepped into
the flames that incinerated the guards holding the door open for
them?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Joy might not always show itself on the
outside of a person, but it's the presence of joy on the inside that
lends great strength and endurance to our steadfast resolve. Not joy
in the wrongful thing that is happening, but a joy that is above the
circumstance. A joy that whispers into the marrow of bones ----- God
is over this, God is with me, God is not defeated, God IS my good
Shepherd, yes, though i'm walking through a dark valley, i will not
be afraid, for God is with me, His rod and staff surround me...
keeping my eyes fixed on Him, He will finish this in His way.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Joy comes (bubbles up to the outside of
us) in the morning after the long night of steadfast trust.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Joy is not the same thing as carefree
happiness.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Joy has the aroma of powerful faith.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So yes, Daniel had joy coursing through
his veins as he descended into the lions den, because he knew his God
was with him. And whatever the outcome, he knew God would be in
charge.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The three in the furnace stepped
forward bravely, and joy was present in their resolve. Because they
knew God was about to be seen by all. At the very least they knew HE
was with them.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Imagine the joy that rose to the
surface and shined in their faces as they stepped back out of that
furnace knowing everyone present had witnessed the greatness of their
God. Joy was present.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_ClCalZN5l5yHmSL1ApwAQGVX8JPdFR7qaDZ1u1yYRFBetNjY1uDU6djiP3h7w7l40Wlyd9NMlr41cRKldBTBxO2vjG0sN1fzNTYb4SwRoaSqGRvTthCVPODEpi0XDV4_SZ9LmKfbLfz/s1600/44f08945c9943873e6faefe858633c96.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_ClCalZN5l5yHmSL1ApwAQGVX8JPdFR7qaDZ1u1yYRFBetNjY1uDU6djiP3h7w7l40Wlyd9NMlr41cRKldBTBxO2vjG0sN1fzNTYb4SwRoaSqGRvTthCVPODEpi0XDV4_SZ9LmKfbLfz/s320/44f08945c9943873e6faefe858633c96.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Betsie is in the middle, Corrie on the left. <br />Nollie, was also a sister, but was released early on from the concentration camp. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Betsie, the much loved sister of Corrie
Ten Boom, carried a sparkling kind of joy inside her that even though
her circumstances were all-wrong, she was all-right on the inside.
She died in a concentration camp, her sister witnessed her passing,
but for the rest of Corrie's life, she told the stories of joy-found
in dark places --- forgiveness-given to the undeserving --- peace in
the midst of war.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A dear friend of mine was held as a
prisoner of war for many years. He was tortured and starved and faced
many horrifying moments. Yet, he was not destroyed because he worked
to keep his personal, internal (that place where no guard could
reach) focus on the knowing that God was with him, He was not
forgotten. His testimony is powerful. (God bless Captain Jerry Coffee
and all those who have suffered wrongfully while serving our
country.) Was joy with him in those dark cells? He says it was; not
on the outside like a bubbling brook, but on the inside like an
artesian well of promise.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Joy is available when Jesus is present.
Evil can not destroy it, unless we choose to allow it to do so.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Joy is a choice.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Few of us will face days of dark prison
cells and concentration camps. Those are places where heroes carry
joy and hope ---- and the rest of us watch in awe, inspired. But if
joy can walk into a lions den with Daniel, and joy can be the sparkle
in a dying woman's eye, the smile on her lips at Ravensbruck
concentration camp, then joy is an unstoppable force if we choose to
let it live inside us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Before Betsie died, she whispered to
her sister Corrie, “There is no pit so deep, that He [God] is not
deeper still.” Those words could only be spoken by a woman who knew
what the deep pits looked like, and found “the joy of the Lord is
my strength” there.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
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Joy is a choice. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
Count it all joy... (James 1:2)</div>
Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-25460944419447581952016-10-04T08:37:00.003-07:002016-10-04T08:37:47.896-07:00Behind the Veil
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPlqOPDIT-fk41hpbyikZyWMZ-2TZHbs4BJYJ2CrCeKaSRIJH_yGoGuahveJxesSyMDQL1jf8nmo_s_H2-IZgaGIzl_wzcwCN5SZ3LjU-MTpFiB4dXmbNPfFSG3QCMoqHmG88ffe0w2CFy/s1600/DSC_2155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPlqOPDIT-fk41hpbyikZyWMZ-2TZHbs4BJYJ2CrCeKaSRIJH_yGoGuahveJxesSyMDQL1jf8nmo_s_H2-IZgaGIzl_wzcwCN5SZ3LjU-MTpFiB4dXmbNPfFSG3QCMoqHmG88ffe0w2CFy/s320/DSC_2155.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Leaning toward Steve i said, “Goodness,
it is scary.” He nodded in agreement. Then as i stepped up to the
guard to be scanned, she said, “You are scared? Why are you
scared?” Shocked that she had heard me, i replied, “No i'm not
scared, i only spoke to my husband about something that is scary.”
The female guard looked me in the eye and said, “i know, and yes it
is.” She felt the same way i did, she understood.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We had been driving most of the day,
headed north. Stopping to buy some groceries, we approached the
entrance of a store just as a young woman stepped in front of me to
get a cart before entering. She was not rude, no offense was taken.
But it was her clothing that caught my attention and gave me pause.
She was wearing a full hijab, with a niqab, (where a small slit
allows only the eyes to show). I've grown accustomed to seeing them
here and there, but usually they are in full black. Her's was
different.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's still hard to believe i live so
far from my homeland. But, i do, it is real, and daily my Abba
stretches me to know more of Him, His ways, His plans. I no longer
allow myself the indulgence of seeing things with my own eyes only.
There's just so much more to be seen, understood, and done. Looking
with my eyes alone would only limit me from seeing the real reason
i'm breathing. There's more, there's always more. And the more Abba
wants for His kids is not purchased with coins, instead it's found in
obedience to whatever He is saying in the moments of any day.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Finished with the guard's scans,
assured we carried no weapons, she smiled warmly as we entered the
store. The fully-robed lady walked in front of us, and i noticed how
everyone stared at her. She did draw attention to herself, but even
from behind i sensed she did not want to be noticed.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some might think me silly, but another
thing i have learned living in this country, is when in doubt----- it
is time to pray. And honestly, i am in doubt so many times every day.
Doubt of what someone is about to do, how the police are about to
behave, where the crazy matatu drivers are going when they fly past
us on the dirt side of the roadway, the doubt goes on and on.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I grew up where there was order, rules,
and for the most part people followed those rules. If they didn't,
they eventually ended up in jail. But that is not the case here.
There are rules, yes, but they are viewed as suggestions not
requirements, unless of course the random police officer decides to
enforce them. All this to say, it is always wise to pray... always.
So we spend much of our time praying. It feels completely normal to
us now. The crazy swirl of piki drivers, noisy loudspeakers, guards
with guns, a riot of colors, and languages from 120 different
dialects all within this one wonderful country of Kenya, doubt
prevails, so must prayers. For sure, i love this country and its
people, but it keeps me ever on my toes, no scratch that, it keeps me
on my knees.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So as we walked down the first aisle
and i noticed her shrinking shoulders responding to the
ever-watchful-eyes of everyone she met, i prayed.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm not trying to sound all holy and
perfect when i say that i prayed. Please don't read it in that way.
Instead, it was a prayer asking for protection, and an asking for
her. I needed her to not do anything to harm anyone. But i could not
ignore that she needed someone, anyone, please s-o-m-e-o-n-e pray for
her.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If i believe my Abba Father is who He
says He is (and i do), then more than anyone, i know the depth of her
intense need for Him. Imagine it --- she does not know the One who
made her, she knows nothing of His love for her, she eeks through her
days dry on the inside because she has not one drop of living water
flowing through her parched soul. It hurts to see her with those
eyes.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But hey, why am i getting all prayerful
and deep in the middle of the market ---- i'm there to buy onions,
chicken, and yogurt right??</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Still, i prayed, “Father God, you see
her, you know her, help her please... and as for us, no harm is
allowed to come near us in the Name of Jesus. I'm covered and cared
for by the One who is above all things... no weapon formed against us
will prosper... Father help her...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As i said amen, she went straight and i
turned right.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was over ---- now, ..... where do
they keep the creamer i like in my tea?...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Steve went one way, i went another. We
Americans, we like to be efficient with our time. Our plan, we'd be
in and out in less than 5 minutes.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But two minutes later as i headed
towards the yogurt cooler, guess who was standing near the cheeses?
Reaching for the yogurt, she spoke to me. She said, “Could i please
speak to you?”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Within 2 seconds i had 10 solid
emotions rush through me.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The afraid-woman should pretend i
didn't hear her, ignore her, and walk away quickly.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But is that why i'm breathing...?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The defensive-woman should level her
with a hard glance and ---- walk away.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But that's not who i am...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The unsure-woman would respond with
trembling hands and her doubt would be smelled by all.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Nope.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But the woman who knows who she belongs
to and why she is breathing again today, knows, buying yogurt isn't
what matters. People matter.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So i paused for a breath prayer (i'm
not kidding about praying allllll the tiiiiiimmmmmme).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Looked at her and said, “What did you
say?”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Could i please speak to you?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Certainly.” <i>Lord, fill this
space.</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And i prepared
myself for what i suspected she might want to say to me. Had she
heard my words at the entrance speaking of how “scary it was”...
had she known i was speaking of her clothing and how it covered
everything but her hands and eyes? Was she about to confront me?
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Lord, fill this
space... </i>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I stepped a bit closer, so i could
understand her timid voice.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Lord, fill this space between us...</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And she said, “I
am the oldest of 7 children. We live with my grandmother. My parents
both died in a car accident in 2008, my grandmother has cared for us
since that time. She is now very old and very sick. Caring for the
family has fallen to me, and i need a job please, i will do whatever
is needed. I can cook, clean, it's only that i need a job.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Lord, help me help her...</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I shared with her
briefly that we already have a dear lady who cares for our home so
well, so no job was available. But i pressed ahead quickly to say,
“The only thing i can do for you is pray for you, that God will
make a way for a good job to come.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
By now, she was
looking me in the eyes, and giving me the unspoken permission to look
into her eyes. Much is said when eyes meet.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She responded and
said, “Please do pray for me, since your God is my God, and he will
hear your prayers.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Lord, give me your words, your know
what she really needs...</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ever so carefully,
as gently as is ever possible, I said, “Thank you for letting me
pray for you, but you must know, my God is Jehovah. And by the way
you are dressed, shall i guess that your god is allah?” She nodded.
“But still, may i pray to my God for you?”
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And the look in her
eyes...</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
if only words could
match the depth...she knew she needed more than just a job... she
knew...</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She looked around
cautiously and said, “Yes, please, perhaps He will hear you and
help me.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I asked her name,
she softly gave it. I called her by name and said, “For sure my God
will hear a prayer concerning you, for whether you know Him or not,
He knows you and He loves you. So i will pray for you by name as i
go, but may i pray for you right now so you can hear what i will ask
on your behalf.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And she visibly
shrank.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Her eyes darted
about as if enemies lurked in bushes near by (as if we weren't in the
freezer section).</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She said, “You
mean here, you are asking to pray here?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes, you see my
God is with me wherever i am. He never leaves me, He is everywhere
and He always cares.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Again... those
eyes.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When all you can
see of a person is their eyes, those eyes must be carefully looked
into. There is no tilt of the lips that can be assessed, no shrugging
of the shoulders can be seen, and no smirking face can be detected.
Only the eyes can speak when words are measured and all else is
hidden.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I called her by
name again and said, “I will pray with my eyes open, and even
looking at you, no one will know we are praying, only you and i and
the God who is a Father.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Her eyes watered,
she shifted her face-cover, then ever-so-softly said, “p-l-e-a-s-e”.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
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And so in the
frozen food section of a public market, i carried her name to the One
who loves her. No veil can stop His great love-longing for her soul.
We prayed, i spoke, she remained silent, and there was kindness in
her trapped brown eyes.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Who was watching
her? Was anyone watching her? Why was she so afraid? Yet, she had the
courage to allow me to pray for her in public.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Fear. It is the
enemy. Fear drives people to do horrendous things to other people all
because they are afraid. They might think they are killing for other
reasons, but i've grown to understand, even the terrorists are
killing because of fear. They are afraid of their gods disapproval,
they are afraid of what their comrads might think of them if they do
not, they are afraid of being killed themselves. Two months ago we
sat and talked long with two young men who grew up muslim, but
converted to Christianity during their early twenties. Now they run
for their lives as even their own family members search for them, to
kill them, all in reverence to their god. These young men explained
to us how you are trapped in that religion, and if you try and break
free from it, you will suffer. One of them had been persecuted so
harshly for his Christian beliefs, that when he refused to renounce
Jesus, he was pushed from a four story high window. His stomach burst
on impact, spilling his stomach and intestines out onto the ground.
His last words to his attackers were, “You can not kill me even if
you push me, Jesus will save me, or He will take me home, but you,
you are not able to end me.” They pushed. He fell. He burst open.
He lived. Those who pushed him... two have died since that time, the
third is losing his mind and hides in his home, to afraid to be seen.
Why? Because he saw Jesus save the life of the one he pushed.</div>
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They knew.</div>
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Jehovah is the One
true God.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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The lady in the
market, who allowed me to pray for her, she too knows there is
something more. She is trapped behind the veil... she carries an
aching soul inside. A soul that Jehovah l-o-v-e-s.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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My life rarely has
space to read what social media conveys. I miss most of the whirl;
the words, the rants, the trending fads, the accusations and
declarations.
</div>
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Still i know that
often times harsh lines are drawn by some who hate this group or
criticize that group.
</div>
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But as for me, my
Abba reminded me as i walked out of the market that day, “Don't be
afraid, don't let the outside cause you to miss the inside that I
see. Just be where I guide you to be, and speak what I guide you to
say, and I WILL DO THE REST.”</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We are not in this
world to win. We are not here to argue a point and come out on top.
We are not here to dominate and rule over others. We are not here to
be afraid.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If we call Abba our
Father ----- we are here to love Him and love others... and maybe we
will grow in our ability to live out the truth that love actually
covers over a multitude of sins --- love covers all --- love drives
out fear ---- LOVE WINS. </div>
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---- when you
see the veil covering the face ---- pray for the soul it is trying
to hide ----</div>
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Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-3719157224693046212016-05-26T04:00:00.000-07:002016-05-26T04:00:15.699-07:00When You Walk Into a Room
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When you walk into a room, what
happens? How does your arrival make others “feel”?</div>
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Are they intimidated? Happy? Anxious?
</div>
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<br />
</div>
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When we walk into a room, sometimes, no
one notices. But more often than we realize, others will have a
subtle emotion surge through them when we enter.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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How we live beside them, how we respond
to them, how we look at them begins to author the emotion they feel.
Are we a calming influence? Do they feel rejected? Can they feel
safe? Do we make them feel insecure?</div>
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<br />
</div>
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Jesus showed us the importance of
seeing others and responding to them in right ways.</div>
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When Jesus walked into a room, things
changed.
</div>
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And when He left this earth He said we
would do all He had done --- and more.</div>
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So ----- i've been sitting with this
question ---- what happens when i walk into a room? Do joy and peace
arrive with me? Or do i bring anxiety and strife? Something more than
just flesh and bones enters when we walk into a room.
</div>
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Something more than used air will
remain after we go.</div>
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If we asked 10 people closest to us to
share one word describing how our presence makes them feel, what
words would they use?</div>
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Wherever we go, we fill up that space
with more than can be seen.
</div>
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When we walk out of a room, we leave
something behind. People feel better, worse, or untouched completely.
Have we warmed hearts or chilled them?
</div>
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It's the pre-cursor to the legacy we
will leave when we die.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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It's what Heaven's been whispering to
me of late.</div>
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On a Monday we prayed again over my
aching chest. The cough had first come four weeks earlier. Tears had
dominated my night; fear is a mean bedfellow. Ugly thoughts like,
“could this be the beginnings of a heart attack?”. Since i've
never had one, how can i know how it would feel? I'm not typically a
worrier, but this extended sickness had begun to win and i was losing
the battle in my mind. After lots of prayer, and sorting out many
details, my husband bought the ticket to fly me home the next day.
It's the cheapest ticket we've ever bought between Kenya and home,
what a relief.</div>
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Tuesday i boarded the plane.
</div>
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Twenty-three hours later i landed in
Atlanta.</div>
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People surrounded me. But my eyes
searched only for my daughter.</div>
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<span style="text-decoration: none;">Maggie
walked into the room</span> at the international arrivals in ATL ---
and everything changed.
</div>
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A sparkle of “home” arrived with
her. Flowers in hand, she brought peace, calm, love, and the sense of
you-are-not-alone. It all walked in the room with her. My chest still
ached, but my heart breathed more easily ------
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The next day found me sitting in a
doctor's office. Friends had made the appointment for me, we'd spoken
with them just minutes after booking my flight on Monday. I needed to
see a doctor, they made the arrangements for me (thank you Gene and
Jackie!). Seventy-two hours later found me in his office. I sat
quietly on the high examination table, Jackie and i watched the door.
The doctor would soon arrive; he would bring a knowledge of what was
wrong with my chest and what needed to be done.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The doorknob turned, Dr. Momin<span style="text-decoration: none;">
walked in, a </span>smile and a greeting, and i knew answers would
soon come.
</div>
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When the doctor walked into the room
--- everything changed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Before meds were even prescribed, my
thoughts shifted and i felt better, just knowing someone was present
who knew what to do. No more guessing, i could rest. It was only
bronchitis and pleurisy ----- the words heart attack or lung disease
never came. It's a tiring battle to keep believing the best when your
mind runs rampant over less appealing possibilities.
</div>
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When someone who could give an educated
answer walked into the room --- there was no more space for
battlegrounds in my mind.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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Two days later i sat in a room
proportionate to a castle hall. Called the “Great Room”, it a
quiet space where students can retreat from the continuous activity
of university life. My youngest son had said, “Mom, while you're
home, come to class with me...”. He now attends my alma-mater. It's
a beautiful campus in a small gold-mining town, hence the steeple on
the oldest building is covered in gold found in the mines long ago.
Between classes we walked pathways familiar to us both. I shared
storied of the places his father and i had sat and talked during our
dating days, before a wedding ring, before children. Under the
same-same oak trees, walking the same-same pathways, my son now
journeys where i once did, and we felt time shrink. As class called
him away, i headed to the great room, he would meet me there after
lectures were done.
</div>
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It's a dark room with a stained glass
window on one end, flags hanging high around two perimeter walls, and
couches neatly placed in groupings. I chose my spot, slid off my
sandals, curled up against the cushions and studied along with the
other much-younger-students in the great room. They delved into books
like physics and foreign language, poli-sci and calculus. I opened
familiar pages of ancient history laced with endless love. My Bible,
my greatest study, my home.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I read, journaled, read more, prayed.
Mentally sitting right beside the hems of His robe, and wiped tears
over the flood that comes. The hour flew by. Looking up from my
studies, i saw him round the corner.<span style="text-decoration: none;">
Peter walked into the room, and everything changed</span>. There came
that smile on his face as he found me in the dark great room, that
smile of recognition, that look that silently says, “There you are,
i know you, i've been looking for you ----”. Familiar kindness,
peace, calm – it all came into the room with him.</div>
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Days later, i sat in my parents
beautiful mountain home. It's their weekend runaway, where the deer
battle with my mother over her newly planted flowers and the trees
wrestle with my dad over their leafy covering of his long mountain
views. It's a place of silence and peace even with these playful
wrestlings of nature. Mom and Dad know, the mountain owns itself
really (the Deed in their hands means nothing to the mountain), and
the trees and deer and bear see their lovely home as a well manicured
playground. We'd laughed the night before as we stayed up late and
talked. Early morning found me perched in the quaint sitting room off
their breakfast area, holding leather-bound-home in my hands again
and talking with the One. Everywhere can be home with Him. Finishing
up my readings, i sat quiet. The morning sun was shaking the
shoulders of the mountains as a mother does the shoulders of her
children, “time to wake up”. Light leaked into the little room
wrapped in windows. Then mom walked into the room, and familiar
flooded in, dad was right behind her, and everything changed.
Familiar faces with familiar voices ---- for over five decades.
Familiar, safety, kindness, and i-miss-seeing-your-face walked in
with them.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
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My short two week visit home was a
flood of much-needed-moments with those dear to me--- walking into
the room. And for those two weeks, i allowed myself the gift.
Mentally, i wrapped each entry as if it were a literal present.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
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It was an unplanned trip. A last minute
decision. Go home to see a doctor (chest pains pressed the decision),
but also, and perhaps even more important, go home to see your
children, your family, rest in quiet places with souls that your
heart is aching to see.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Perhaps it wasn't pleurisy that pressed
me home after all... no, it wasn't a heart attack... instead it was a
heart in need.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My dear husband gave me this gift ---
go spend Mother's day early with them. The time it will take to fly
there and back will be about the same amount of hours you labored to
bring them into this world.
</div>
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What a thought.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As i flew back to Kenya, sitting alone
surrounded by people, i revisited all the moments of familiar faces
walking into the room.
</div>
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Words are not able to share the heart
sometimes.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's perhaps one of the great griefs of
releasing a loved one to the grave. The pain of knowing they will
never walk into the room again. Living so far from home, i do think
on such things. And it grows me. Others-centered thoughts, not
self-centered ones.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Appreciating the fact that when someone
walks into a room with us ------- it is a gift that will not be
allowed always. This should not provoke sadness; this should provoke
appreciation. SEE the soul that enters the room. Embrace the gift
that has come near. And go a step further still --- ask ourselves to
be truthful about what others might feel when we walk into their
rooms.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the blink of an eye, my visit was
over. Good meds had begun defeating the chest pains and coughing. I'd
rested near my children in my daughter and son-in-laws home. Getting
to lay my head down under a roof that's also covering the heads of
those i gave birth to --- well, that's better than ten Christmas
mornings for me.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Waiting on airport tarmac, anticipating
those wheels leaving home-soil again ----- those moments of seeing
them “walk into the room” filled in the cracked pain of leaving
them again.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Landing back in Kenya, i held that same
leather-bound-home in my hands. And i purposed in my heart to
appreciate who would be walking into the room here. My Steve. We who
have been married for many years can all too often overlook the gift
that should be seen when they walk into the room. Steve and i have
been married for almost 34 years. That's over 12,000 days of walking
in to each others rooms. Too many let it become common --- it should
not be.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
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“Walking into the room” ------ it
was a thought, a grouping of words that i'd been studying on for near
two weeks.</div>
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How it felt when others walked into my
room... how it might have felt for them when i walked into theirs.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then two days after my return home to
Kenya, i sat with a missionary friend as we prepared to lead worship
on Sunday. She had chosen several songs for us to consider. Playing
her guitar, we sang. Coming to a song i'd never heard before, she
sang it alone, i closed my eyes and listened. She sang the words
-------
</div>
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“When You walk into the room ---
everything changes...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She did not know the journey i'd been
on with <u>those very words</u>. I opened my eyes and reached for the
song-sheet, as she continued to sing.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<i><b>When You walk into the room
----everything changes. Darkness starts tremble ----at the light that
You bring.</b></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><b>When You walk into the room-----
every heart starts burning --- and nothing matters more than just to
sit here at Your feet ---- and worship You.”</b></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When Maggie walked into the airport
arrivals room – everything changed for me.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When the doctor walked into the
examination room --- everything changed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When Peter walked into the great room
at university --- everything changed for me.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When my parents walked into the
quiet-time room --- everything changed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
...there were countless other moments
of special room arrivals, each of which is dear... and perhaps i
appreciate them all the more because it is not often i get to see
them walk into my rooms.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But when it came in a song ---
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“When YOU walk into the room,
everything changes --- darkness starts to tremble at the Light that
You bring...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Heaven whispered.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
HE had been giving me glimpses of it –
the importance of what happens when LOVE walks into a room.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Truth --- when we walk into each
other's rooms, it matters. We bring something with us when we arrive.
We bring joy or angst, peace or turmoil. And we actually get to
choose. We should choose well what we allow to enter a room with us.
It will matter --- more than we know.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Heart-healing can come when others walk
into our room – when the doctor walks in – when my children, my
sister, my parents, my husband walk in. Heart-healing.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But ----
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
SOUL-HEALING comes when HE walks into
our rooms.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So ---- when the room is filled with
too much pain, too much lonely, too much ache --- and we're longing
for something to come and relieve the empty space around us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Let's close our eyes and ask HIM to
walk into the room.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When He walks into the room -----
everything changes.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We must not let the wild commotion and
deep pains of life on planet earth keep us from remembering -----
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
what we REALLY NEED --- is for HIM ---
to walk into the room ---
</div>
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and when we walk into the rooms of
other's lives, we need to carry Him with us.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And may we never forget --- some of the most unkind among us --- have never felt HIM walk into their aching rooms. May we carry HIM all the more steadfastly into their hollow spaces. </div>
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Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-54077894716397472852016-04-07T04:53:00.000-07:002016-04-07T04:53:33.403-07:00A Story of Faith
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She stared ahead as bare feet skimmed
over red dirt and she wondered, what will come of me. </div>
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Her tattered
blue and white school uniform hung from shoulders burdened with
weights not meant for a child to carry. Around the curve on the trail
her friends would be waiting, the path to school was more wisely
traveled together. The journey would be quick; the schoolmaster would
be harsh if they delayed.</div>
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In her thirteen years, hard lessons had
come. She'd buried her father, then 3 blinks later, her mother. It
might have been 3 years, but for her mind it was all a fast moving
blur. Three children were left, Faith and two younger siblings. Left
in the care of her mother's family, they were not abandoned. So why
could she never seem to escape the sound of shoveled dirt landing on
a hollow, wooden, casket? It was the last sound she heard before
sleep came each night, and the first sound she heard before the
rooster called each morning. Another year with bare feet gave her not
a second thought, but the passing of endless days never uttering the
words “momma” or “daddy”, that revealed a lack in her
innermost heart no covering could protect, no words could sooth.</div>
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But today, fear had a white-knuckle
grip on her stomach. Keeping morning ugi down was proving to be a
monumental task as her feet padded down the path.</div>
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In Uganda there is a law that declares
if anyone is caught molesting a child, then few questions will be
asked, before they are thrown in jail.
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Great in theory, this appears to lend
weight in the direction of protecting children. But in reality, there
are always clever ways deceitful people are able to circle 'round to
the back door of something and find a crack.</div>
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The backdoor crack in this law goes
something like this...</div>
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There are evil-minded people who
“promote” their young daughters or nieces to lustful men. Warped
men who look with perverted eyes, and plan with darkened hearts how
they can take innocence. The “seller” may be a family member,
looking to make a schilling as they “off the record”
sell their own niece or daughter. However, there's a wicked catch.
When the “client” arrives and begins taking what he has paid for,
the “seller” secretively takes photos using their cell phone.
With proof now in the photos of the violation of this Ugandan law,
the “seller” eagerly threatens to call the police and prosecute
the “offender”. The perpetrator begs for mercy, the negotiations
of bribery begin, and the lost innocence of a devastated child is
ignored. Not only has she been sold ---- she's been sold by those who
should have been her protectors. The “agents” (usually family
members) begin working their deal. “If you pay us $----, then no
police..., if no, then we have proof...” More money exchanges
hands. The child bleeds in more ways than can be seen.</div>
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It's not a trumped up story in a book
or headlines on the evening news.</div>
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But instead, it is reality for too many
little girls.</div>
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As she walks to school, struggling to
ignore the hot breath of fear on her unprotected neck, she
concentrates on holding breakfast down. More food will be long in
coming, she needs to keep the ugi down.
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Her mother's sister had come to care
for her after her mother's death. Auntie Anne was kind and good, the
children were safe in her care. But rumors were rumbling and auntie
had cautioned little Faith. The family of her deceased father were
plotting. Was her father rolling over in his grave? Did he know, his
own family wanted to “sell” his daughter? Before that could
happen they would have to take her from Auntie Anne, and that would
not be an easy thing to do. The community had been alerted, the
rumors were being used as a warning, “Protect little Faith, protect
all the girls. Trouble is lurking.” So daily, little Faith walked
with caution traveling between home and school. No one should walk
alone, girls would walk together.</div>
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Faith knew she was in danger. But
threats could not put schemers behind bars, and absence from school
would only cause marks to decline on test day. She had to go, fear
had to be beaten.</div>
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She released the long-held air from her
lungs when she saw her friends waiting under the mishola tree; never
even realizing she'd been holding her breath since leaving her
auntie's hut. Little Faith kicked off fear as her friends smiled.
Feeling safer with them beside her, shoulders shifted under her worn
shirt, eyebrows rested above tired brown eyes.</div>
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Many miles away, Auntie Eve is praying.
She knows the dangers young Faith is facing, and she knows her
sister Anne is doing all she can to keep her safe. Eve laments again
over the painful moments of seeing her sister's life slip away,
leaving three orphans behind. But what can she do to help as this
trouble appears on the horizon. She's in Kenya, Anne and Faith are in
Uganda; a country spans between them. She prays.</div>
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Faith walks with purpose beside the
familiar bare feet of her friends. Life is hard for each of them, but
they are together. Strength in numbers.They smile at one another.</div>
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Laughing together over things little
girls find funny, they are almost there.</div>
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But a car swerves off the road and
rough hands grab at little girls like lion claws. It happens in a
flash, but their minds see it all in slow motion.</div>
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There are screams.</div>
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Tears.</div>
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Joy hides in the bushes as fear snarls.</div>
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Before she knows it, her friends
disappear and the car lurches wildly down the hole-pocked road.</div>
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And what can a thirteen year old little
girl do in those moments?</div>
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Three friends stand alone, there had
been four. As the car disappears, flying dust swallows up their
friend. Faith has been taken. Looking at one another, no words come,
only screams as they run wildly to school. The headmaster rushes to
them listening carefully to their horrid tale. He calls Auntie Anne,
she calls the police. They all know little Faith's every breath now
hangs by a thread.
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Anne in Uganda calls Eve in Kenya as
police begin their search and Faith hears only the sounds in her
head, of dirt being shoveled onto a hollow wooden lid. It's the first
sound she had heard after her mother's face was covered, it's the
dark sound that comes when she can not face this pain. Life goes
numb.
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The aunts know, prayer is the only
thing they can do. Thoughts must not be allowed to careen them over
the cliff, they must control their minds. Prayers, to the One who
sees and knows and can save. Prayer is the only right response when
life goes so wrong.</div>
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The aunt in Kenya is our own dear Eve.
It is her niece who has been taken.</div>
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We've met little Faith once, when her
mother passed away and we visited the family to show respect.
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But now, in these dark days, when
little Faith has been kidnapped by the family of her deceased father,
Eve's grief became visibly evident. Her heart pained so deeply for
her niece, her eyes rarely left the floor. After sharing with us all
that was happening in Uganda, our home remained silent as we each
went to separate rooms to pray to the only One who could save this
stolen child.</div>
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We prayed together...</div>
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We prayed alone...</div>
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For 24 hours few words were shared as
we each held to prayer and clung to hope. Internet was down. No
emails for prayer could be sent. Prayers don't need internet. Nothing
can separate us from the One who is over all things.</div>
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It would take the hand of God to rescue
this child.
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Nothing else could do it.</div>
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And i thought to myself ---- how many
little girls are treated in these ways, and no cover of prayer
reaches into the darkness for them. Oh God, the evilness of mankind,
how grievous it is.</div>
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Idi Amin trampled over the very ground
this little girl was now being consumed by. The soil of that land has
soaked up much blood. But Lord, this innocent child, may we see Your
hand move these mountains of evil and save her from the monsters who
have taken her.</div>
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Twenty four hours passed. Prayers stuck
in our throats, but tears kept them flowing. Pleading for the life of
a child, it can freeze blood in veins.</div>
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But that evening, Eve called with the
news.
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Little Faith had been saved.
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The police had surrounded the huts of
the deceased father's family. Auntie Anne had been forceful, more
demanding than most African women. Carrying witnesses who testified
of the plotting family's threats to take the child, this aunt did not
stay silent! She did what good people should do, she fought for what
was right. “Evil prevails when good people are silent...”</div>
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Both aunts were doing all they could;
one demanding police attention, the other calling out to God.</div>
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And a child was saved.</div>
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Worth repeating.</div>
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A child was saved.</div>
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So often we can get to words like those
and we cheer and celebrate and say, “What a great story! How great
to know they rescued her from certain horror...”</div>
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But when you live up close to the
endless flow of the stories, you realize something that maybe can't
be seen as easily from a distance.
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The child's life is not finished, it's
not over for the child. There is still very present danger as she
walks the path to school the next day, week, year, decade.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just because the first plan was foiled
by an over-zealous auntie, doesn't mean the destroying evil will fold
its hands and sit down. Oh no. We must step out of the mentality that
everything is solved and the bad guy is defeated all within the one
hour drama, and just in time for a commercial break.</div>
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For little Faith is still alive, still
breathing, still falling asleep at night hearing the thud of dirt on
wood as she ends another day wishing she could have said the words,
“I love you mother”.
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She's still a little girl with fears,
and now she needs to stand stronger than ever before, because she
knows what it feels like to be gripped by cruel hands and thrown into
the back of a car. Her screams were ignored. She must work that
horror back out of her mind. Faith still lives. Faith has more
chapters to come. She still is a little girl in Africa, a little girl
------- in Africa -----
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So what happened next in her story?</div>
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When the police found Faith, her
father's family had locked in her a ramshackle shack behind their
huts. Plots were being formed as to who they could bribe for the
highest price. Perhaps they were planning to let the trauma of the
kidnapping pass, or time to let the news of the kidnapping fade, or
they might have been planning to send her to another area for the
“sell”. Regardless of their reasons, their hesitation gave time
for her rescue before she was molested. When the police found her
tied in the shack, they untied her, carried her to a nearby safe
place, and raided the family compound. But... as evil as the plots
were --- no arrests were made. No one was locked up for traumatizing
a little girl. No one could be convicted of what they hadn't
done...yet. And after all, couldn't they simply say they wanted to
visit with their niece and that is why they took her??</div>
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So loud words were shared, police
intimidated, Faith was rescued, but no one suffered for what they had
done. Only the child bore the wounds of it all.</div>
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Immediately both aunts began praying
and trying to figure out what to do to keep Faith safe.</div>
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The fact that she had been saved, could
only be celebrated a short time, for the clear presence of real
danger was still lurking near. One foiled kidnapping only meant the
ruthless family would now hire another to kidnap her again, this time
carrying her far away from local eyes.</div>
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Eve and Anne, good aunties of Faith,
prayed and talked and a plan came clear.
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Anne would send little 13 year old
Faith on a bus, from Uganda to Kenya, to the waiting arms of Eve.
Anne could not travel with her, for she had 2 other children to care
for, and travel costs would be too much for them all to travel
together. Eve could not go to get her, for she too had 2 small
children at home. Eve has four children of her own: one is 20 and out
of the home working as a seamstress, another is 17 at boarding
school, then twins a boy and girl, 9 years old living with her. Eve
is a single mother, having been abandoned by her husband 9 years +9
months ago. The night he left her, he brutalized her terribly
intending to end her life. She did not die. Instead, 9 months later
she gave birth to twins.
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Seven years after that nightmarish
night, God moved us to Kenya, and as we asked a dear friend here to
let us know if he knew of a good woman who needed a good job, Eve
walked into our lives.</div>
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Can you see the hand of God at work?</div>
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We do.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9LyAqlw-x_i-WkdSDH02Khy6r7IVS0ytXfIiWLnZXH4QrsKHhV0bxP5fsExYb8zgXmEZdbTv3vZoXqzDEFz_zOJI24llXS5H7Dj5RssetXi68pPNyns2KAwIY5aDP61eeTJD4QvjZBbp2/s1600/DSC_9858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9LyAqlw-x_i-WkdSDH02Khy6r7IVS0ytXfIiWLnZXH4QrsKHhV0bxP5fsExYb8zgXmEZdbTv3vZoXqzDEFz_zOJI24llXS5H7Dj5RssetXi68pPNyns2KAwIY5aDP61eeTJD4QvjZBbp2/s320/DSC_9858.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eve with her three youngest children - this pic was taken about 1 month before the events shared in this blog took place.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Auntie Eve knows what ruthless hands
feel like. She's raising 4 children alone, and now she peacefully
says, “It is for me to give little Faith a safe place to grow up. I
can do this mom and dad, it's why i've been given a safe home. So she
can have a safe place to grow.” Now, again, can you see the beauty
of God at work?</div>
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We do.</div>
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Two days later, little Faith arrives on
a bus.</div>
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On that same day, two dear friends
arrive to visit us from America.</div>
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That evening, one of our friends hands
us an envelope with $100 and a beautiful note of love and support.
Sent from a young lady back home, she simply shared her desire to
send the money to be used in whatever way we felt God guiding us.</div>
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That night ---- when the dust had
settled from the whirl of the day ---- we prayed.</div>
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Thanking God for the safe arrival of
Faith to Eve's home and our guests to ours.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thanking God for saving Faith and for
blessing Eve with a good home to welcome her into.</div>
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Thanking God that our children were
safe and sound and had not been taken from us...</div>
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Thanking God for dear ones at home who
support and love us and help us in countless ways.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And then ---- asking God, “Be sure
and show us Lord, where you want your $100 spent...”</div>
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No sooner had “Amen” come out of my
mouth, than i knew for sure. Like a wave on the ocean's shoreline, it
rolls all around you, leaving you standing in the same spot, but you
know you've been touched.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The money had been sent weeks before
--- from America --- and it was for little Faith's needed school
fees. The money had begun it's journey to us, even before she had
been kidnapped. Her Abba knew what would be needed and where. That
money has now paid for little Faith's school fees for one whole year.
She sleeps peacefully tucked safe inside her Auntie Eve's little two
room home, with cousins to play with and a good school with new
friends.</div>
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These days, little Faith is found
walking with her cousins to a nearby school, wearing a new school
uniform and shiny, black leather shoes AND sparkling white socks. She
smiles. She's a whole country away from those who plotted dark
schemes.</div>
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She's safe.</div>
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She has a future ahead of her.</div>
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And the sound of dirt hitting hollow
wood is beginning to fade away.</div>
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Instead she closes her eyes at night,
to the sounds of giggles and prayers and love all around her --- and
morning's light brings still more of the same.</div>
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Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-38318318044253513492016-02-18T03:03:00.000-08:002016-02-18T03:03:16.846-08:00Oh the places He is found...
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It says... “All humanity finds
shelter in the shadow of your wings.” Right there in front of my
eyes, David said it, wrote it down, in another age, so long ago. But
the words still speak into today. The Creator cares about and offers
shelter to all humanity, and not just in a mansion on a secluded
hillside, but also in a shack in the bowels of humanity. The Word
says all humanity finds shelter in the shadow of His wings. And the
shadow of His wing is found right up under His shoulder, up close,
b-e-s-i-d-e Him.
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Oh the places He can be found...</div>
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“Come pray for a little girl please,
she is very sick, and she needs many prayers...”</div>
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Those words carried our feet on the
packed-earth pathway that weaves between mud slathered walls holding
up rusty roofs, with a tangle of twine tied from this one to that one
holding dripping dry laundry washed in muddy waters from the stream
at the bottom of the hill. Those tight, closed in places where living
souls are trying to breathe and live in the midst of stagnant air
and... too much evil. We walk quickly, as no good would come from
pausing beside the overly friendly men sitting beside the bowl of
fresh cooked brew. Here, you walk with purpose, with intent.
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We arrive at the doorway and step
inside, leaving the bright light of day and entering into darkness.
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Eyes must be given time to adjust, if i
don't give them time, i'll stumble in the darkness...</div>
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As eyes adjust, so does my soul. An
adjusting soul doesn't need time as much as it needs the whispering
of prayers. God's Word tells us to “Guard our hearts above all
else, for everything you do flows from it.” -Proverbs 4:23
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So when entering “dark places”, it
is right to be diligent to put a guard over our hearts.
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Prayers are right when we step from
light to dark.</div>
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Some might say --- we shouldn't go
there --- we should protect ourselves best by not going to the dark
places...</div>
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But my soul has heard His voice speak
clearly in my heart --- why have you been given such a great Light if
you are not willing to carry it into the darkness?...?...?</div>
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Two steps from the blue sky canopy, the
rusty tin holds many shadows. But the sounds inside the tiny hut are
sweet. A mama speaking softly in Swahili and a child making childlike
sounds and my eyes adjust. And slowly by slowly i begin to see.
Within the four-wall room that is their home, a mother holds her five
year old daughter. The treasure in her arms wears not a stitch of
clothing but the mother holds her close ---- you can feel the love in
the room. Her daughter's head is dramatically dis-proportionate to
her body, the little girl's head is larger than her own mother's. She
struggles to hold it up, but she works hard to do so because she has
a smile to share --- and her smile ---- is a carrier of intense
J-O-Y.</div>
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Joy...</div>
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This naked child suffering from an
accumulation of fluid on her brain (hydrocephalus), is a giver of
joy... and the story told by her mother's eyes needs no language of
the ear... this child is loved.</div>
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In this slum area tucked in Africa
where much is needed... my senses focus in on one thing ---- love.</div>
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My human eyes go to war with my heart
--- because my eyes want to shoot arrows of “this is SO WRONG” --
but my heart rests in an other-worldly place ---- responding to my
humanness by whispering solidly ---- she is loved ---- she is loved
---- she is loved ---- she smiles with joy ---- she knows what it is
to be deeply loved ---- look at her mother's eyes ----- she is dearly
loved...</div>
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One of the things i have learned here
in Kenya is that a child with a birth defect is rarely abused by
those who do evil things (molesters, abusers, rapist, etc.) because
they are “afraid” of catching the “curse” they believe she
carries. They usually will not even touch the child.</div>
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So this treasured one, is not molested
by wicked hands. And that is a great merciful blanket that surrounds
her unclothed shoulders.</div>
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Her mother holds her as we talk, a
translator helps me understand what the mother shares. Little Mary is
her third child, two others are older. Mary's father is a good man
who sells fruit and vegetables in town to provide for his family. The
mother gathers wood in the nearby forest, she then sells to her
elderly neighbors. She says of her husband, “He is a good man...”
Those are golden words to hear from the mouth of a woman in a slum in
Africa, few women can speak those words in these places.
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Time slows down...</div>
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In a world that struggles with the rush
of busy, here, in these moments, it slows down.</div>
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Time slows down for little ones like
Mary and the kind mother who holds her.</div>
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The outside world is shut off from
these places. No electricity lines in these alleyways, no television
shows invade here, no internet, no emails, no social media presenting
its fabricated appearances. Life is raw and basic ---- food and
shelter and water take priority --- there is little time for other
things chased after by the masses who live beyond the horizon.</div>
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We've been asked to come and pray.
We've not been asked to come and fix... or change... or “do”.
We've been asked to p-r-a-y.</div>
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Again – the priority is solid and
clear.</div>
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This mother does not know what is wrong
with her much-loved child. But she DOES KNOW that praying for her
beautiful daughter is what is needed. Prayer... simple, earnest,
heart-felt prayer.</div>
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We pray...</div>
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And little Mary rolls her head from
side to side. But as i pray, she blesses me with rays of JOY as she
works hard to hold her head steady long enough to be sure i
see-her-smile-of joy. It's all she has to give............ and she
works hard to give it ............. and i know.......... Jesus is
present.</div>
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The mother wiped eyes that grew wet as
we called out to the One she knows loves her daughter too.</div>
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Simple faith --- in a far from perfect
place.</div>
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Pure love --- in a hard and dirty
world.</div>
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Complete joy --- in a child's eyes who
knows nothing beyond the place where she lives.
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...and i'm amazed beyond belief at the
magnitude of the wave that rolls through me.</div>
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As i leave their hut, i try and help
the two dear friends who are with me in their processing of what they
just saw and how they are internally responding to it. We usually
respond internally before we take action externally (we should), so
healthy internal processing can lead to better external
thoughts/actions. I know they are stunned – shocked --- overwhelmed
perhaps (likely).
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Less than a week prior they were doing
life in America --- today they met “life” in a completely
different setting. Every sense is challenged and all those questions
impact the heart before dripping down into the soul. And the
processing of it is an important step, for the soul to be impacted in
God-honoring ways.
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The enemy of our souls is ever watchful
and eager to make us view things in distorted ways. He's always
looking to make God appear a liar (that hasn't changed since Gen. 3:
1-5).</div>
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So as my guests and i walked and
talked, i encouraged them to try and “see” little Mary's world
from her eyes. She is l-o-v-e-d. She is cared for by the tender,
gentle hands of a mother and father --- that is rare in this world.
She is fed, and held, and washed, and safe. She actually has more joy
and contentment that many children who live in fine places.
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We look at her and see neediness -----
SHE DOES NOT.</div>
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And we must be careful. We must seek
God diligently before we let her see “our” eyes and impose on her
a look of pity. Pity would be a mystery to her. For she lives wrapped
in joy and love.
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Oh it's a hard moment indeed.</div>
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But it's part of the “i must decrease
and HE must increase” that's found in John 3:30.</div>
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We must learn that our Abba does great
things in hard places... He doesn't have to have polished, pretty,
well-decorated rooms to work His great miracles.</div>
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And in this world ------- isn't the
presence of complete joy and love ---- a miracle?</div>
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Our minds might want to demand that
healing would be the right miracle... but would we overlook the
miracle of joy and love in the midst of sickness?</div>
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I've learned many hard lessons living
so far from all that was familiar and comfortable.
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I've sat long and silently (imagine
that miracle in itself:) -- and looked up.</div>
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And i've embraced the suffering that
happened at the Cross – where the blood of the Innocent One flowed
down on the souls of the guilty masses – and the miracle of
salvation was birthed through unimaginable pain.
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And i've learned... that my Abba can
work so beautifully in places where we weaker ones shrink back. He's
not afraid of suffering. He's not afraid of pain. He knows exactly
what to do with it. He works miracles in the places we hesitate to
touch.</div>
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So in the processing with my dear
guests, i asked them, “do you think we should immediately cast a
net to the many who love us and love God – and raise funds to have
a needed surgery to place a shunt in little Mary's body? Do you think
the risk of invading her body through surgery done here (not in
America, but here, where surgery here looks very different) and with
recovery time required, in the place she lives now – do you think
that is for sure the right thing for her? Do you think we should
“rescue” her from her home, the only place she has ever known,
and bring her into our home, for a safe recovery --- where her mother
and father will not be able to be beside her... because they will
have to remain in their hut so squatters don't take it from them? And
what do you think will happen to her little heart, her mind, her soul
--- if she endures the surgery, recovers in our home, then goes back
to her home w-o-n-d-e-r-i-n-g ---- why? Why is her home so different,
why does water not flow threw a pipe, why does light not hang from
the ceiling, why...why...why? And in those moments do we really think
the enemy of her soul will miss the chance to drain her of the
valueable love and joy she now glimmers with?</div>
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She will always need follow up
surgeries...</div>
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She will always need a clean place to
live...</div>
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She will always need good medical
care...</div>
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For her to live long --- she will need
these things.</div>
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But i've learned another hard lesson
here.</div>
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Life is valuable, this i learned many
years ago as a child. But living long is not the most important thing
about life. The value of life is found in the way it is lived. What
we do with it, how we share it, if we love others with it...
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Do you know anyone who lives their life
for themselves? What they want? How they can get what they want? Who
they can use to get what they want? Distracted... from the needs of
others because of the many distractions they surround themselves
with...</div>
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Are they living well?</div>
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But it might possibly look like they
are, if we just view the “outside” of them.</div>
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If we just look at the outside of
little Mary's life, we could wrongly judge it and say, she needs to
be rescued from the one room shack in the middle of a slum...</div>
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But if we pause long enough to feel the
joy-of-the-Lord in the radiance of her smile --- we can more
accurately see the good LIFE in her. Perhaps she was placed exactly
where she is, by the hand of a God ---- who because of His great love
--- also placed His Son on the cross.</div>
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Abba can work miracles in desperately
hard places.</div>
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And we can feel the intense weakness of
ourselves in those same hard places.</div>
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Doesn't He remind in His word --- that
“in our weakness, He is strong”.</div>
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I asked my young visitors to let God
guide them carefully as they processed little Mary's situation. Not
to view it through “American”, “Western-world”,
“save-the-world” thinking. But instead to allow themselves to
face their helplessness and in that moment choose to see God's
able-ness to do all that is needed regarding His precious little
Mary. Then ---- in those moments --- in closet-prayer-with-Him ---
ask Him if HE would have them do anything according to His good plans
for her.</div>
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I did the same. I prayed fervently in
the same way.
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Oh it can feel so wrong to not jump in
with everything we've got --- thinking, “this is wrong and i must
do something...”</div>
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But in the quietness of “being still
and knowing that HE IS GOD” --- peace flows strong to trust Him and
believe, He knows what He is doing and i----- do-------not.</div>
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Perhaps you're reading these words (if
you've made it this far) ---- and you might be thinking --- this
woman is a nut! I'll laugh with you there and say, i might just be.</div>
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But all i can do is learn what my Abba
is teaching me --- and trust what He is doing ---- and when He says
jump in --- may my feet clear the ground at “j”.</div>
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But when He says, h-o-l-d steady ---
i'm doing a work that doesn't need your hands ---- may i sit still
and pray.</div>
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It's a part of “He must increase...”</div>
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The hard truth is this...</div>
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Precious smiling Mary will likely not
live to the fullness of 80 years. She will most likely succumb to an
illness sooner rather than later. But the life she is living right
now in the little hut of her mother and father who love and care for
her --- is rich.</div>
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She sparkles with joy. She rests in
love. She is content with the sounds of her mother and father around
her. She brings Light into a dark place. She proves, things do not
have to be perfect in order for them to be good. She preaches the
good words ---- “under His wing, refuge is found”.</div>
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And His wing is not limited in where it
can reach.</div>
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Mary will someday leave this earth ---
just as we all will.</div>
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But i am most certain of this one thing
---- when her little brown feet step into her Maker's Heaven, her
head will not falter when that sparkling crown is placed on it. And
she will not need help when she lifts it from her normal-sized brow
and places it at the feet of the One she is well acquainted with. And
her days here may be shortened only to allow them to be increased in
a land where there is no suffering, where the lion lays beside the
lamb, and no disease or sickness is found.</div>
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Guide us Lord ---- help us Father -----
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to see things more with Your eyes
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and realize how very needy we ALL are
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for more of You
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and Your ways.</div>
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And Lord --- thank you for the JOY you
have placed inside of little Mary. Help her Lord to shine Your love
in a dark place. Bless her momma and daddy, give them all they need,
fill their hut with your greatness, and if you choose to ask us to
action on your behalf regarding Mary, we are most willing. We trust
You and what You are doing --- more than we trust ourselves and what
we would do. So you guide ---- and we will follow.</div>
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Oh Lord --- thank you for being God.</div>
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Thank you for little Mary.</div>
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And thank you for little Joseph ---
that precious little baby you put in front of me just four days ago.
With his ulcered skin sores and whimpering attempts to scratch them
---
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Thank you that with him you whispered
so surely, this one... this one... get him the help he needs. And now
already, the meds are working and he is being healed.</div>
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Oh the places You are found...
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“God will never forget the needy; the
hope of the afflicted will never perish.” Psalm 9:18
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Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-17264940027539710862016-01-22T21:23:00.000-08:002016-01-22T21:23:02.919-08:00Mr. and Mrs. Goose --- simple LIVING
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Yesterday i bought Ernest Hemingway's
“The Snows of Kilmanjaro” for our oldest son, this morning i
write sitting beside that mountain. It's snowy peak often hides
behind the high clouds, hence its name, “the shy mountain”.
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In front of me is a sprinkling of much
lesser mountains, they lay across the western side of Tsavo. Their
peaks are too many to number and they're wrapped in acacia trees.
They've been well watered this morning as rains came with the
sunrise. But now, rainclouds have given way to blue and the trees
sparkle, like cared for children in the cradle of these mountains.
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Steve and Peter have gone for an early
morning game-drive. Usually i would be beside them, but my safari
(journey) this morning will find me sitting still; opting to “be
still” to think ---- pray ---- read ----- write ---. Rather than
going to look for the animals, i will wait and see what comes to me.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
The field in front of me is home to an
Egyptian goose. Smaller than the rocks around it --- it's captured
my attention. How very “odd” i realize i have become. The giraffe
mother and here babe have just disappeared back into the tall acacia,
but it's the little goose who holds my rapt focus. Last night he
peacefully sat alone beside the watering hole.<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He weighs maybe 3 pounds soaking wet
and his “hang” is a watering hole in Africa surrounded by animals
that dwarf him in every way --- yet, he moves about as if “all is
well”. Last night the zebra, who fear the darkness behind them,
inched closer and closer to the watering hole. Mr. Goose glided out
of the water, settled his webbed feet on the shoreline, and held his
position without ruffling a feather. Did he not realize dozens of
sharp hooves surrounded him, and each held the power to end him? But
almost as if he had been given the assignment to “be still” ---
and “fear not” ---- that little goose silently preached to me, as
i sat all comfy in my safari chair drinking tea (on the outside) and
yet deep inside i was squirming with discontentment and worry.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I know... i'm not suppose to actually
admit that am i?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
but sometimes i do wonder --- who among
us, wrapped in dust and clay, doesn't have their moments of
trembling?? If we did not know what trembling felt like, would we
ever really reach for Abba's “be still and know that I AM GOD”?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Egyptian geese mate for life. They are
rarely found alone. If you see one alone, then it is likely either
eating while its mate roosts on their clutch of eggs or it hasn't
found its life-mate yet. But for sure it will not rest until it finds
the one it will live with for the rest of its days. A ranger once
shared with us his great admiration of the feathery foul. He shared,
“They will mate for life and they mean it. They are born with the
need to be faithful to one and only one. They will live together for
years and travel together always. On the day that one of them dies,
the other will soon follow.” We asked how that could be. He
explained further, “On the day the male goose dies, the female will
simply stop eating. She will slowly kill herself by starvation. But
if the female dies first, the male will begin searching for her. Even
if he sees her death, in disbelief, he will fly to each of the many
places they have nested over their years together. He will search for
her. As he visits each place where she has been, and finds she is not
there, he will fly on to the next place where he remembers being with
her. When he has exhausted all possibilities, he makes one final
flight, straight up. He beats wings hard to fly to the highest place
he will ever go, then when he can ascend no further, he folds his
wings for the last time and plummets to the ground below. It is his
way of ending himself. He will not live without his she-goose.” The
ranger ended by telling us how much he knew Kenyan men could learn
from the little goose. We knew he told us the story because he knew
of our call to minister to marriages, but did he know how deeply the
story moved us. And don't we all need to know of the faithful little
goose? Husbands and wives in every country on every continent. We
need to realize there are feather-covered-faithful ones that sparkle
with a goodness we skin-covered-souls often struggle to emulate.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Last night as i lay my head down, i
pondered on the lone goose by the watering hole.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He was the picture of what i should be
----- he was doing it so well.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I found myself in class again. Time to
learn, from a wee feathered creature in a dangerous place.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My heart was engaged because ---- he
was ----- alone.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Egyptian geese are not suppose to be
alone. It's instinctively placed inside them to have a companion –
another goose --- one goose – beside them.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As i closed my eyes i wondered if he
would still be by the muddy water in the morning. Imagine my lunacy
as i thought to myself how i would like to go out to the waters edge,
scoop him up in my arms, shower him off good, and let him be my
little buddy for the rest of his days. He should not be alone... i
would be his friend. (Surely Abba shakes His great head so often at
me.)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This morning as i write ---- i smile
--- for it is being proven to me, Mr. Goose is not alone after all.
Mrs. Goose is right there beside him...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They're walking about stirring up seeds
and bugs, having their morning feast together. And even as i ponder
over where she was last night, i watch as he waddles over to a hidden
nest in a grassy mound tucked carefully out of the way. It's nestled
at the high edge of another watering hole, where few animals would
consider going. Smoother slopes are plentiful, that's where thirsty
animals would more likely drink from. The short escarpment edge is
the perfect spot to grow their littles. Mr. Goose now sits, hidden,
on the nest. Mrs. Goose is foraging about, appearing to be the lone
goose now ---- but how thankful my heart is, to know she is not
alone. They are together. They are working together. It's just her
turn to walk about and eat, while he tends their treasured eggs. And
i'm reminded --- he moved about during the more dangerous hours, when
prey huddles near the watering hole and predators stretch muscles for
a late night hunt.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He was not alone</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She is not alone.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They know who they are and who they
belong to and what they are doing.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And they do it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The lilac-breasted roller glides into
the acacia near by, with all its brilliant colors of blue and
lavender, it moves about so freely and captures the attention of all
who see its flight. What a beautiful bird.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mrs. Goose neither notices its
glamorous arrival nor cares when it flies on. She doesn't ponder
after its colorful flight, lamenting over her drab brown and grey
plumage. She does not let her focus or her peace be intimidated by
the flair of the other foul. She walks and eats, and holds faithful
to the course before her.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just now she has paused to look up and
to the right. She stares, something is in the bush and she watches.
She eats nothing in these moments. She focuses closely. She's the
very picture of confidence.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A goose can teach.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The movement in the bush ends (likely a
mouse or lizard), she turns back to the ground. She doesn't fluster
or fume --- she's neither fearful nor irritated. She attends to her
“calling”. Graze and keep watch, then sit on the eggs and keep
watch... graze and keep watch...sit on the eggs and keep watch.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A goose can teach.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Guinea fowl now approach her. She cares
not. She doesn't run them off, selfishly gorging herself on the few
seeds around her. She just peacefully continues eating. Guinea's are
adorable birds who look like little helmets running about in the open
field. Hence their name, the helmeted guinea. With blue heads and a
rounded body covered with white-polka-dotted black feathers, they run
about comically. They are surely the most ADHD bird in Africa. They
travel in flocks, many of them in a grouping.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Does Mrs. Goose look at them and
wonder, “why can't i have more of my kind around me?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
i watch her and i know the answer -----
she does not.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She is not a guinea fowl. She is a
goose. She has an assignment in life, and if she ponders the guinea
or the roller, it will only distract her from the faithful attention
that is needed to be who she is and do what she is suppose to do.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A goose beside a muddy water hole in a
dangerous place ---- can teach.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
... do others think on the same sort of
things?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
... or am i perhaps “alone” in my
learning.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are those among us who are
intensely l-o-n-e-l-y. Even surrounded by people, aloneness can still
come.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some will distract themselves from the
sense of aloneness by
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
a hobby --- something to do ---
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or work --- something to accomplish ---
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or buying ----- something to have ----
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or going --- somewhere to be ---
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or watching ---- something to entertain
----
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or medicating --- someway not to feel
----
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or drinking ---- someway to numb ----
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or retreating --- someway to hide ---</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or succeeding --- someway to feel
significant ---</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or dominating --- someway to feel
powerful ---</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or denying --- someway to feel innocent
---</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
or defending --- someway to feel right
---</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
it goes on and on.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mr. and Mrs. Goose ---- they need none
of this. They have a purpose, and they are sticking to it. No
distractions are allowed, they know the frailty of life and the need
for careful attention to the work they are called to. It's simple.
It's sure. They won't change the world; they won't take from it. They
will do their small part in it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Brennan Manning seemed to be sitting
at my table this morning, speaking ever so clearly with his writings
in “Abba's Child”. He begins chapter eight with a powerfully
blunt excerpt from Anthony DeMello's book “The Way to Love”.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
DeMello writes, “ Look at your life
and see how you have filled its emptiness with people. As a result
they have a stranglehold on you. See how they control your behavior
by their approval and disapproval. They hold the power to ease your
loneliness with their company, to send your spirits soaring with
their praise, to bring you down to the depths with their criticism
and rejection. Take a look at yourself spending almost every waking
moment of your day placating and pleasing people, whether they are
living or dead. You live by their norms, conform to their standards,
seek their company, desire their love, dread their ridicule, long for
their applause, meekly submit to the guilt they lay upon you; you are
terrified to go against the fashion in the way you dress or speak or
act or even think. And observe how even when you control them you
depend on them and are enslaved by them. People have become so much a
part of your being that you cannot even imagine living a life that is
unaffected or uncontrolled by them.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I've read it over and over again.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And... i think of Jesus, and how He
does not fit inside the lines of that paragraph. He neither tried to
control others nor did He allow others to have control over him.
Instead, He was mastered only by His Father and because of that, He
loved ------ perfectly.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ghandi's words echo again --- “I like
your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so
unlike your Christ.” Did Ghandi perhaps feel this way in part
because we Christians so often look like DeMello's paragraph and our
Christ looked/looks nothing like it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mrs. Goose was teaching this very
lesson, better put, she was living this very way.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Even as i write, i laugh at myself.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Is it ludicrous to watch a couple of
geese, consider how they live, and see something worth learning?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We might say --- they are only geese,
they do not have the pressures of human life imposed on them --- they
are born, they procreate, they survive until they die, and that is
all there is for a goose. Human beings have so many more demands
placed upon us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But do we really? Or do we impose so
much more on ourselves?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Is it possible that the simple,
focused, living of the geese by the watering hole holds golden
lessons we are too busy to notice.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are many differences for sure,
but if we are wise, we will allow ourselves to learn from their
silent sharing.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And for today --- as i seek to learn
--- i see this clearly.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The mother and father geese are
peaceful and gentle. If husbands and wives could interact as these
geese do ----- there would be no broken homes with wounded children
limping for years after the cave-in.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They are focused on exactly what is
their part ---
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
------ they graze and eat</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
------ they stay near enough to help
each other</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
-------they are always watchful against
those who would cause harm</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
------ they are not concerned over what
other birds think of them</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
------ they don't criticize or judge
other birds either</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
------ they share what is around them
and never complain</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
------ they are thankful for another
day of living, they know how close death is</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
------ they never sleep too deeply nor
celebrate to loudly (for they know there is always something lurking
near willing to end them)
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
------ they don't compare themselves to
others, and they don't tell other birds how they should behave.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They are focused ---- content -----
peaceful ---- persevering ---- dedicated.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In their solidarity and autonomy, they
do not view their simple life as empty or lonely.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They could...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But they do not.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As i watch the pair of simple geese, i
rethink DeMello's words, and see that not one line applies to their
life.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just as not one line of it applied to
Jesus' life.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When we think of Jesus's life, some
might say, “well of course Jesus could live that way, after all, He
is God in the form of man...”. So does that mean we don't press
ourselves (as we should), to try and live like Him. But what can we
say in defense of ourselves when we see two little geese living it
well beside a watering hole in Africa. They are not controlled by the
need to please or placate others – they do not crave the approval
of others – they do not cringe over rejection of other feathery
companions. They simply live well --- according to the assignment
they have been given in their lives.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Perhaps we might say, “well, their
assignment is simple...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And to this my heart hears this truth
----- our assignment is simple as well ----- in whatever we do,
wherever we are found, in every moment we breathe another breath ---
we are called to one sure thing ---- we are to love others.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There is a way to live focused ---
peaceful --- content --- and faithful.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sharp hooves might surround us (unkind
people saying unkind things, threatening to do even worse if they
can).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hyenas might approach (those who look
for death and then will devour us with bone crushing jaws that make
us tremble).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Feathered beauties might fly near
(those who look, act, and sound perfect and who work to feel better
about themselves as they compare their opulence to our simple walk).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Or crowds of activity might swirl
'round us (when the life of others seems to be filled with “more”
and we sit in our simplicity of “less”).
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But if we can keep our focus on “why”
we are alive --- then we too can make it through the dark nights by
the watering holes.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And the morning light will find us
----------
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
doing what we were created to do
------------
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
loving God and loving others.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Simple living that honors the One who
made us, blesses those around us, and allows the one beside us to
never feel alone (no matter how dark the night).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
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<br />
</div>
Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-69443289690305791012015-12-29T05:30:00.003-08:002015-12-30T10:46:22.183-08:00These Last 30 Days...together<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's come to an end.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I sit on his bed typing these words as
he sorts through clothes and shoes and memories.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We've agreed this last week (this whole
month actually), we will stay close, no phones or emails are allowed
to enter in to these last days together. All families have to say
goodbye – goodbye is a part of hello – hello can only come after
someone has said goodbye --- hellos matter --- but goodbyes do too.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Even when this youngest born son came
to my arms those 22 years ago ---- somewhere in my heart i knew ---
the Creator had likely hesitated as Heaven whispered goodbye to him.
We can't be in Heaven and on earth at the same time.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And with the goodbye looming on our
horizon, this Christmas i saw things in a different way.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Always and Forever we rejoice over the
birth of the baby Jesus, the Prince of Peace, the One who willingly
came to pay for our sins and show us the way of love. Christmas is a
joyous time because it applauds the moment the Savior was willing to
breathe air beside us.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But this Christmas i allowed my heart
to feel the heart of the Father God – the “parent” of the One
who would become God wrapped in flesh. For Jesus to be born of a
virgin --- He had to step away for the arms of Heaven.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Did our Abba grieve over the step His
Son took when earth received a babe born in a manger and the space
beside Him in Heaven was silently vacant for the next 33 years?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This Christmas --- i was silent as i
allowed myself to love my Father more deeply than ever --- asking Him
to allow me to scoot up close beside Him ----- and cry ------ over
the space He undoubtedly felt. In the “seeing” what i had not
fully opened my eyes to before, something new slid into my heart...
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He released His Son on Christmas
morning into the hands of the unable and unworthy ----- for one
reason alone. HIS LOVE.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He released what was His greatest
treasure ----- because of His real love for those He would adopt into
His fold.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Christmas is a time we celebrate with
colorful lights, evergreen trees, carefully wrapped presents, and
tables overflowing.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For me, this year, i allowed myself to
weep over The Gift ----- that could only be ours because the Father
gave Him up.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now ---</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
my dear son is not the Christ child
----- and i am not the Father.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But we are all made in His image, and
He feels as we feel.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So this Christmas season, i've learned
something new.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because of love for another ----- we
have been taught to release what we love most.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our Yahweh taught it to us --- He did
it for us.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And in the moments when we surrender
what we love so dearly ---- our Abba meets us there. He's the perfect
fit for the hole left inside. He knows what He is doing --- He knows.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So as i watch him pack, and we talk
over the details of the next few days, i write.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And i want to share with you the
amazing ways we have chosen to “paint the caboose” of his days
beside us here in Kenya.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
To tell it rightly, we must go back 12
years.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When Peter was 10 years old, Steve and
i made a decision that was perhaps one of our best parenting moves
ever. We wanted to give each of our children a special gift that
would allow us time to invest in them personally. So as each of our
children graduated from high school, we invited them on a “dream
trip”. Rather than them heading to the beach with friends, we
wanted to personally escort them from their childhood days and into
the first steps of their future.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So when Peter was 10 years old, we
began saving a small amount each month, preparing for the trip he
would receive. We did the same for each of our 3 children.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our oldest son Michael enjoyed a week
in Scotland with his dad for his “senior trip”. Our daughter
Maggie and i traveled for two weeks covering 3,000 miles from
Yellowstone Park to the Grand Canyon for her “senior trip”.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Peter had always dreamed of going to
Australia --- specifically, he wanted to go cage diving with great
white sharks. What!!! Yes – that's just what his giddy-up looks
like. :)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But when Peter was graduating High
School, we were deep in the throws of selling our home and all that
we owned, preparing to move to the mission field. We sat with him
tearfully during those strained days and asked him to give us time...
his father could not step away at that time to enjoy a special trip
with him. With much grace (yes, even an 18 year old son can give
beautiful grace), he said he completely understood, and that even if
he was 30 years old before it happened, he knew, someday it would
happen.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now we sit over three years later and
prepare to say goodbye to him. In four short days he will board a
plane and fly home to America. We will remain here and continue in
the work we are called to.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For all these years, we've held the
money we had saved for his “senior trip”, wondering when we could
bless him, how it would work.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well ---- our hearts could not bear to
watch him go without somehow showing him our love and gratitude over
his willingness to wait ---- and even beyond that ---- his eagerness
to support and love us as our calling has changed his world
completely. He's not complained the first time --- but instead he's
made the most of it. He's grown beautifully in ways that we don't
believe he could have grown in our safe little haven on Mockingbird
Road. He knows what it is to be the major minority. He knows how it
feels to be discriminated against. He also knows what it feels like
to know God is near and protecting and guiding and “speaking”. He
knows what lonely tastes like, and he knows how God shows up with a
feast in those moments. He has grown.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We are so thankful.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After much prayer, and some help from a
dear friend --- we decided to surprise Peter and give him his “senior
trip” before he returned home.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We couldn't swing Australia (round trip
flights from Nairobi to Sydney are a whopping $2000pp), but we could
still make shark-cage-diving with great whites become a reality for
this last born one who drinks adventure in like it's morning coffee. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So on December 14<sup>th</sup>, imagine
our JOY as cashed in the “senior trip” savings and boarded a
flight to Cape Town, South Africa. It's arguably proclaimed the best
place on earth to share smiles with the great whites. For 3 days and
nights, the 3 of us celebrated Peter's high school graduation --- 3
years late. But IT HAPPENED!!!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
While i perched myself on the top deck
of the dive boat, father and son donned their dive suits and entered
the cage. It wasn't Australia, someday that might happen, but it was
the perfect way to say “Congratulations Peter” for high school
graduation, and for working hard to make a success of your years in
Kenya. </div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
God gave us 3 perfect days.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And since He is the One who made the
great whites, He proved His authority over them as He brought them to
us, and they showed off.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was a dream trip.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We'll never forget the moments of awe
and laughter and even though there was a sprinkling of tears in the
ticking away of our minutes together ----- what a gift to share such
moments together.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We sat beside each other on the rocky
shores of the Cape of Good Hope, we climbed the stairs to the
lighthouse on the cliff at the southwestern most shoreline of Africa, </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
we looked out at the waves and knew ------ the One who controlled the
rolling waters before us was in complete control of our lives, and
peace washed over us. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Flying back to Kenya we couldn't stop
smiling. That even though our lives have changed in ways we never
could have predicted, we had still been allowed to enjoy a feast of
moments with one another and accomplish something we'd dreamed of for
over a decade with our last-born-treasure.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But the days of December were not
finished with us ---- and we still ached to make the most of every
minute of these last few days.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One week later it would be Christmas
day. Living in Kenya, we have learned, there are few things we can
“buy” and give as gifts. We've been blessed all our lives to have
all we need, so for us, Christmas in Kenya is more than ever before a
time to look at those around us and g-i-v-e.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our little 3 foot tall Christmas tree
held no gifts underneath, we needed nothing we did not already have,
and the day means so much more than ever before. We did finally slide
a few sweet presents under our tree – for the children who live two
doors down and our dear Eve and her children.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We talked together of Christmas and
decided that again this year we would give memories instead of gifts
to each other. We have not given Christmas presents to each other
since Mockingbird Road.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Being away from “home” at Christmas
time is challenging for our hearts. We miss being with family, seeing
friends, eating the wonderful foods of the holidays, and counting
twinkling Christmas lights as we drive at night. Cold weather with
warm scarves and steaming drinks in shivering hands. Christmas music
played while cookie smells fill the house...
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
well... we had it so good for so many
years. Memories fill our hearts --- and who wouldn't miss being in
those kind of beautiful places. So --- for us --- we've learned, we
need to do something “different” at Christmas time, if we don't,
we set ourselves up for sadness.</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So we packed ourselves up and for 3
days we visited Tsavo National Park on the western side of Nairobi.
We've always wanted to visit this special park, where Mzima springs
flow and extra big lions with no manes roam. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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We drove our Lori-car
the 6 hour drive and spent 3 days looking at what God had made and
was now willing to share with us. </div>
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<br /></div>
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We visited the famous Tsavo bridge
that Colonel Patterson built for the British in the late 1800's,
where two man-eating lions terrorized his camp of workers and in the
end killed over 100 men, reportedly eating over 30 of their victims. </div>
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</div>
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We stood in front of the cave where those monstrous, mane-less
killers stashed the bones of their victims.</div>
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Colonel Patterson killed
both of the man-eaters who are now stuffed and on display at the
Chicago Field Museum. We stood on their still present trails and took
pictures at the mouth of their lair. The true story of the man-eating
lions of Tsavo was portrayed in the movie, “The Ghost and the
Darkness”. It was creepy ----- but also exciting. We love visiting
places where history books hold true stories of living --- especially
when good won over evil. </div>
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(As i share of our special month of
travels ---- please know this, not a dime of ministry money was spent
for one minute of either of these special December trips. When so
many support our ministry work here, we feel compelled to be sure you
know this.)</div>
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<br /></div>
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He's just finished packing his second
bag.
</div>
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It's really happening.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And we will find ourselves living on
the other side of the world from each and every treasure of our
hearts (except for the gift of each other).
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
How honored we are to be allowed to
serve our Abba and minister to marriages, to pastors, to hurting
women, to wounded homes. Each and every day we begin it by asking ---
“Use us Lord, we are yours.” We are humbled that He is willing
to let His truth and love flow threw us --- cracked vessels that we
are. It's proof of His great God-ness --- if He were not GOD, we
could do nothing.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And each day we work to remain diligent
in our eagerness to obey Him and serve others.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Keeping our chins up and our hearts
true (Kweli Moyo) --- we do the best we can to submit and stay.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But there are those moments when our
hearts melt ---
</div>
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and in truth we can only say ----
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
it is ever-so-hard to say ----
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
goodbye----NO – not goodbye ---
rather --- we say --- see you later son</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
we will see you soon son ----</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
we will see you again ----</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
oh how we do love you ----- </div>
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<br /></div>
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Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-67753525733687523332015-12-07T21:10:00.005-08:002015-12-07T21:10:58.868-08:00My wish list for today...
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<dl><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxiAFs7QsO8ONb70TW3659ucpL8dlRIYMMcjngAOnKLG_CDh42d1ikUsAdS79115gRim77BAZqj4yir2OVSCqxhPpeTLC-tCkYcaqjGvLKh71IBiw636vyfXUPlEI1PwXRSx8mXAxM2Jwl/s1600/DSC_4092.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxiAFs7QsO8ONb70TW3659ucpL8dlRIYMMcjngAOnKLG_CDh42d1ikUsAdS79115gRim77BAZqj4yir2OVSCqxhPpeTLC-tCkYcaqjGvLKh71IBiw636vyfXUPlEI1PwXRSx8mXAxM2Jwl/s400/DSC_4092.jpg" width="400" /></a> </dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in; text-align: center;"> </dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">In four short
hours she will walk through my gate. Her closely cut hair will bear
no braids, her slightly scarred face will frame a shy smile, her
dark brown eyes will look down.
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
...and i...</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
i will work carefully to give her a map.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
My hands will not hold it, my words must.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
And those words will need to come ever so gently, but with a sure
pressing of the Truth in them.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
She is suffering from a “disease” that is perhaps slowly killing
more people than we might imagine possible. This 20 year old
treasure whose eyes shine with kindness, holds a dark spot in her
heart. It's not cancer --- it's worse.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
It's not TB – but it is suffocating her.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
It's not pneumonia which so often closes in on the last breaths of
those suffering from HIV-AIDS (but thankfully she does not suffer
from either).</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
There's no medicine she can take for this sickness that has stolen
her peace and brings suffering to her heart.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
But there is an antidote available. This morning we will begin
administering it.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Forgiveness.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Forgiveness is the only cure for her.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
To forgive another for the wrong they have committed against us ----
it is the only way to detach the chains that silently, but firmly
come, when we suffer from the selfish acts of others. Those chains
do not disappear on their own. They must be mastered; they must be
broken.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
When she was a child, only 4 or 5 years old, she had been left in
the care of her aunt and uncle while her mother went to work in the
fields of Uganda. Family land was producing a good harvest there,
and that harvest would feed children and pay school fees. Those two
needs are ever on the minds of African mommas here. How to feed and
educate their children... they think on it constantly. One speaks of
survival, the other of hope.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
While her mother worked in the field harvesting, she was to help her
auntie gather sugar cane. She would sleep in their hut and work
beside her aunt through the day. Her mother would send money from
Uganda to help pay for the ugali (food) she would eat. It was a good
plan ---- but...</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
The uncle was a “lion” in his home. It's the way his fellow
Kenyans would describe him. Aloof, distant, commanding, and in
charge; this man held himself apart from the “underlings” that
lived under “his” roof, and when he growled, everyone scattered.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
She understood this dynamic. She was not one to rebel or cause
trouble.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Obediently she did exactly what she was told to do. Like a furry
cub, she hung close to her auntie and did whatever work was asked of
her.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
But one day as the “lioness and cub” finished their work
gathering sugar cane from the field. They carried the load on their
backs as they talked and laughed. She remembers her aunt's playful
way as they chewed on sugar cane together and walked the dirt path
home. It was a treat to chew on small pieces of the sweet cane they
had work to gather --- what they carried on their backs would bring
a good profit at market the next day.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Chewing on the cane, sucking the sugary juice from the thick fibers,
and then spitting the remains out on the roadway, they made their
way home in time to prepare ugali before the “lion” returned.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
All was right in their world... or so they thought.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
As the fire warmed the cooking pot, her uncle returned with a scowl
on his face. His words, “Did you harvest the sugar cane today?”
Auntie softly spoke, “Yes, and tomorrow we will take it to
market.” The growling voice lowered, “But someone robbed us, and
even chewed our cane spitting out the remains on our trail.” “No
one robbed us husband, we only enjoyed a treat ourselves, rewarding
our stomachs from the work of our hands.” The little girl by the
fire kept her brown eyes lowered. The “lion” was growling, the
“lioness” was there to protect.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Three days later the little girl woke. The pain she felt would not
allow her to open her eyes. It felt as if an elephant were sitting
on her head, holding it in a painful vice between the ground and the
sky. She could move her arms and legs, but the slightest shift of
her neck shot agony throughout her little body. Someone spooned
water and porridge into her mouth, swallowing was unbearable. For
many days she lay this way, unable to see, unable to move. Someone
cleaned the ground beneath her grass matt, she was unaware of the
excrement her body released, all she knew was a blind splitting
pain. She wondered ---- “is this what death feels like?”</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Weeks passed by, and in that time, she began to hear voices again.
Then slowly-by-slowly she was able to open her eyes. The light shot
new surges of pain from her head to her toes. She preferred keeping
her eyes closed even though she knew she could still see, for when
the sun went down, she opened her eyelids just a sliver to watch the
firelight under the ugali pot.
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
In time, she began to sit up in the dark. It was easier in the
darkness.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Her auntie had been caring for her day and night; always caring for
her head, feeding her, and cleaning her body tenderly.
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Her mother was soon to return. How thankful the little girl was to
know that she was not actually dead; she would see her mother again.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
When her mother returned, the “lion” was away. Auntie wept as
she explained the deep wound that now marred the top of her nieces
head. The uncle had become angry when the little girl and her auntie
had admitted to chewing on bits of sugar cane after harvesting from
the field. He had called them thieves, and had vented his anger on
them. For his little niece, he had chosen a large stick out of the
firewood, and standing behind her, had swung it like an ax onto the
top of her tiny, brown, bowed head. The auntie received her
punishment in other painful ways.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
No doctor had visited to care for the child, as the “lion” had
declared he would not spend a shilling to care for a thief. So the
auntie had done the best she could to care for and pray over the
wounded little harvester.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
The mother was outraged, for her very own brother who had done this
to her child.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
But not even a lioness can stand against a lion.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
She gathered her daughter, prayed with her sister-in-law, and went.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
In this culture, there is little recourse for a woman or child who
have been wronged by a man. There is even less to be done if you do
not have money to hire a lawyer. If she had called the police, (we
are told by all here) they would have surely laughed at her. But
worse still, since the offender was a family member, it would have
been considered shameful to have caused any trouble for the brother.
What happens in the family ---- stays in the family... the strong
rule, the weak suffer... if the weak do not want to suffer, they
better grow strong.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
So, nothing was done to hold the brother accountable; nothing could
be done.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
The little girl was lovingly cared for by her mother. And in time,
she recovered fully except for an unending headache, tenderness to
her entire scalp (she can not bear for her hair to be braided), and
a deep wound in her soul.
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
She struggles to forget. She wants to forgive. She fears her uncle.
She fears all “lions”. She trusts slowly. She feels strangled by
the claws of helplessness – she remembers how it feels to be
unable to move, to see, to hear, to feel safe.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
When she speaks, her voice is soft and gentle.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
When i speak to her, my voice is as well.
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
She exudes kindness.
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
She compels kindness around her.
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Her head never stops hurting. Even all these years later, she
carries the physical reminder of her punishment for chewing a few
bites of sugar cane walking home from a day of harvesting.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
She was wronged. Terribly wronged.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Today she will walk through my gate. We will open The Book together.
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
I will share Truth with her ------- the only way to be free from the
chains of injustice are to clip them with the work of forgiving.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Judges could rule and put all evil-doers in countless prison cells.
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
But it would not release her mind from the bondage it holds within
its wounded self.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Honesty compels me to scream through silent words typed ----- IT ---
IS ----- NOT------ FAIR!!!!!</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
She was wounded. She suffers still. But now today SHE will have to
go the extra distance to forgive the one who wronged her --- in
order for her to be free.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
I lift my “unwounded” head to the One who is over all things
---- and i weep for her. She was a litttttttle girrrrrrrrl attacked
by selfish meanness.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Abba ---- help her ---- punish the one who wronged her ---- let her
feel your protection today, even though she was not protected then.
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Gandhi said, “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the
attribute of the strong.”</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
It's the weakness she felt as a helpless child that holds her in
this place of deep anger and silent suffering. She wakes in the
night angry. She sees the face of the lion-uncle. She cringes when
she hears his voice on the days the family gathers together and he
acts as if the scar she bears is normal. She shrinks from his
presence and yet never seems to be free from it.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Her wounds must today be used to remind her of the strength she
carries within her. Only the strong can survive such wrongs. Only
the able can rise above such offenses. Anger whispers to her to use
her strength to hold offenses against her offender. But the Good One
tells us to use our strength to rise above the offense, forgive it,
hand it to God, and break the chains that hold us down.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
It is through our suffering that we can be transformed... if we will
allow it to complete its work in us. Strength is needed in these
waters.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
I sit with Isaiah as the sun rises through these acacia trees.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
And the whisper comes strong ----
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me (so there is no value
in thinking in my little-person-ways), for the Lord has anointed me
(why me, i have no idea, but i know He stirs me and i must follow)
to bring good news to the poor (and today, that poor one is the
little wounded girl in the young lady's body who will walk through
my black gate with an aching heart). He has sent me to comfort the
brokenhearted and to proclaim that captives will be released and
prisoners will be freed (prisoners are not held captive by only bars
of steel – more often hearts and minds hold chains around them).
He has sent me to tell those who mourn that the time of the Lord's
favor has come, and with it, the day of God's anger against their
enemies (yes, my Good God is angry over the wrongs done to the
innocent). To those who mourn in Zion (the place where Jesus is
found), He will give a crown of beauty for ashes (and may that crown
completely cover the scar she bears, help me help her see this
Lord), a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead
of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks
that the Lord has planted for His own glory.
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
They will rebuild the ancient ruins... repair cities destroyed...
revive them... (what was ruined can be rebuilt, what was destroyed
can be repaired)</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Instead of shame and dishonor, you will enjoy a double share of
honor... (suffering can bring strength that will be used for good)</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
For I, the Lord, love justice. I hate robbery and wrongdoing. I will
faithfully reward my people for their suffering and make an
everlasting covenant with them.” (from Isaiah 61)</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Your Words are perfect Lord.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
Help me today to help her see how Your Words fit perfectly in her.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
<br />
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
There is controversy everywhere Lord. People argue over everything.
Everyone seems to have an opinion they are certain is right. But, no
one, NO ONE is actually right. There are shootings and bombs from
terrorists, there are refugees running for their lives. There are
shoppers shopping and Christmas lights twinkling, and wish lists
shared, and wallets emptying -------------- this world is madness
Lord.
</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
I long for you to take us Home Lord.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
My clay-covered self can barely make sense of it all (actually --- i
can't).</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
But for today's portion --- i thank You Lord ---- and i ask You for
help ---- as one of Your treasures walks through my gate and sits
beside me.</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
My wish list today Lord -----</dd><dd style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0in;">
please set her free and heal her wounds.</dd></dl>
Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-18941404516917608802015-11-15T06:35:00.000-08:002015-11-15T06:35:01.730-08:00"there is nothing new under the sun"...
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tired fingers open Holy Words as a
weeping heart wipes leaking tears. And the brokenness of the world
whispers weakly ---- we need ...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This morning i found comrads as i sat
on my couch and opened the leather book again. Letting myself go deep
and allowing time to connect where i am to where they were; it was as
if two places fit together --- almost perfectly.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When i was a girl, my parent's had
those timeless World Book Encyclopedias. We were fascinated by the
human body pages, they had the coolest overlay sheets. The first page
was simply an outline of the human body. But then one by one each
transparent information page was laid over it and the complexity and
completeness of the human body came into view. The skeleton, the
nervous system, the internal organs, the veins and arteries, each had
it's own page. Not until all the transparency pages were laid
together could you get the full picture of the miracle of the human
body God created.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's such a familiar picture of what
happens in us as we kids of Abba sit with Him and look into His word.
We can begin to see m-o-r-e as He lays another overlay page on the
one we bring to Him. And the longer we sit in His classrooms of life,
the more pages He overlays into us.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
King Solomon declared in Ecclesiastes
that “there is nothing new under the sun”.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When i was younger and read this, i
thought him not-so-wise. For to me, at my young age, so many things
were new. Ahh yes, my ignorance showed for sure. But, as i celebrate
my 53<sup>rd</sup> birthday --- and youth is no longer my
running-mate --- Solomon's words sound very right. Truly, there isn't
anything new. All that we experience has been experienced before by
others who perhaps thought they too were the only ones to have
visited those high mountain-top moments or low-valley journeys. We've
all been wrong on this one if we thought we were experiencing
something new... instead it's just an “old” thing coming to a new
place.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Solomon wasn't being negative --- he
was being clear.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There's nothing new under the sun. So
what we're facing today, was faced yesterday, and someone will face
the same tomorrow. But --- HOW we face it today --- that could be
difference.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Terror has emerged again ---- but it is
not new. In these wonderful old pages, the revisiting of it's schemes
can be seen, and <b>the sureness of its defeat is remembered</b>.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Nehemiah had trouble on his hands.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's the place where the days of old
met my day today on the space of a couch this morning.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I brought my simple outline drawing of
me, my life, my heart, my need, as i sat on that early-morning-couch
---- asking for... (too much to list).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'd read through Chapters 1 and 2 and 3
--- remembering the story from my vacation Bible school days. We'd
drawn “the wall” on paper, built “the wall” in skits, read
the story, and cheered the words, “I'm doing a great work and i can
not come down...” (thank you again God for a momma and daddy who
made sure their little ones were in those rooms on Union Hill Road).
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But for two days now, sitting in
Africa, so far from those sweet days, the Lord has laid another page
over my simple outline. And Nehemiah has become ----- a friend to me.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You see, Nehemiah was doing the work
the Lord had given him to do. He was “on assignment”. Rebuild the
wall. But he had enemies, many of them. Sanballat, Tobiah, Arabs,
Ammonites, Ashdodites, Samarian officers... all these mocked Nehemiah
and the jews who worked to rebuild the wall.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Overlay page --- “when you obey
God, there will be enemies who oppose you...”</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Nehemiah's response to this --- he<b>
prayed</b>.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hear us, our God, for we are being
mocked...”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As scoffers criticized and Nehemiah
prayed, the work continued and the wall was completed to half its
height around the entire city. The Word says the people “worked
with enthusiasm”.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Overlay page --- “keep steady at
the work donna, no matter what goes on around you</i>.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then in verse 7 the Word says those who
opposed the rebuilding of the wall were furious because the work was
continuing, the wall was being repaired, their threats and criticisms
had not hindered the workers. So the enemies made plans to go to
Jerusalem, fight against the builders, and throw confusion into the
work.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Overlay page --- “sometimes
enemies will criticize with words, but sometimes their plans will
bring threat of an attack”</i>.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Nehemiah's response to these plans of
an attack --- “<i>We prayed to our God and guarded the city day and
night to protect ourselves</i>.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Their response of old brought another
overlay for me today. This one had no lines on it, nothing was drawn,
but instead it was a solid color, of the faintest blue. Blue being a
that calms. This <i>overlay page of “prayer”</i> doesn't directly
respond to any line below it– instead it just covers over
everything beneath it – it changes the intensity of the dark lines
of enemy-attack-plans --- it weakens them, it speaks of something
powerful enough to COVER anything under it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Imagine with me how tired these workers
must have been.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Nehemiah himself, he'd worked and
planned, up early and working late, with tools in his hands and plans
in his head, he was a man working overtime. He's no different than a
man today, working to get the contracted job done, managing many
people in challenging conditions. But Nehemiah had enemies breathing
down his neck, he was extra tired, for his eyes must have always been
on the horizon, watching for the approach of those who would do them
harm.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then verse 10 comes and it became so
“real” to me as i read the words. “Then the people of Judah
began to complain, 'The workers are getting tired, and there is so
much rubble to be moved. We will never be able to build the wall by
ourselves.'” Surely --- we today are like these of old. Working
hard. Pressing ahead even when obstacles and enemies distract us.
Growing tired. Praying for strength to “guard the city day and
night, to protect ourselves, and keep steady at the work”... But in
our humanness, we get tired and perseverance grows thin and we begin
to ------ complain. Our weary eyes cause us to focus on the “rubble”
that needs to be moved instead of the progress of the “wall”. We
hear the murmurings of others, the criticisms too, and we lose sight
of the race that has been set before us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The mumblings and grumblings of those
around us ------ can weigh us down ---- like lead boots in a lake.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And murmuring complaints are as
contagious as flu germs passing from mouth to mouth. What a gross
picture that is --- we don't want to think of germs jumping into our
mouths. But isn't the image accurate? When one mouth murmurs ----
those around it have to steadfastly WORK (at the wall) to not allow
those words to jump into their own mouths and multiply off their own
tongues.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's what happened in Jerusalem.
Complaints began, people were discouraged and tired, they were weak,
the doubting thoughts and strained attitudes were contagious.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sanballat and Tobiah were not the only
enemies at work against the builders on the wall.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The most dangerous enemies are the ones
who find a way to sneak inside our “camp” --- and come out of our
own mouths.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Overlay page --- “don't let
murmuring come from your mouth or sit in your thoughts, don't
surround yourself with those who do”. </i>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the midst of their murmurings, their
enemies sent threats, “We will swoop down on them, kill them, and
end their work”(V 11). FEAR screams at us when we are already tired
--- and threats make their way to our door. More words came, “They
will come from all directions and attack us!”(V 12). </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There's nothing new under the sun ---
is there?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yesterday, terrorists killed over a
hundred people in France. Many more were seriously injured. Today,
hundreds of families grieve their loses. And we see threats of terror
and attack unfold. Some tremble, some want to hide away in their
homes and forget any “wall” they might have been called to build.
But others, they step forward like Nehemiah. He had a response to the
threats that came in his day. Verse 13, “So I placed armed guards
behind the lowest parts of the wall in the exposed areas. I stationed
the people to stand guard by families, armed with swords, spears, and
bows. (14) Then as I looked over the situation, I called together the
nobles and the rest of the people and said to them, 'Don't be afraid
of the enemy! Remember the Lord who is great... and fight for your
brothers, your sons, your daughters, your wives, and your homes!”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Only God could let Nehemiah's strength
speak to my tears this morning.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
His words spoke straight through from
those days long gone to these days before us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We've been given assignments by the One
who knows what is needed ---- He knows where the needs are --- He has
a master plan --- He knows what HE IS DOING.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But we kids... we get tired... we hear
threats... and we wonder... will we ever be able to finish the work
before us...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then word of terror comes --- and we
wonder, will they swoop down on us and kill us and end our work...?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And we doubt ----- ourselves ---- as we
doubt ---- the One.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But the Nehemiah's are among us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They must not be silent before us.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Those anointed by God to speak the same
truths to us that Nehemiah spoke as he stood beside the wall and said
“Fight for your homes and for those in your care”.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Overlay page --- DO NOT shrink back,
<b>do not be afraid </b>– <b>Remember the Lord is great </b>---
fight for what He has given you.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the moments of
morning when the birds begin to sing, it was as if the Holy One
breathed in the room, as Nehemiah's words kept coming and Abba's
whispers filled air-------</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Do not be afraid...</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
donna – do not be
afraid for your sons and daughter.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Wars and rumors of
wars will come, that is nothing new--- bullies have always been, and
they will always be, until Heaven's doors are opened wide and hell's
gates are sealed shut.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
daughter – hold
steady at the work, FIGHT for what is yours, do not murmur, do not
complain, do not whimper in fear or listen to lies of terror.
REMEMBER ME, for I AM GREAT... I am with you... I have already won...
no matter how things look... Calvary's work is still alive...</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
(15)”When our
enemies heard that we knew of their plans and that God had frustrated
them, <i><u><b>we all returned to our work on the wall</b></u></i>.
(16) <u>But from then on</u>, only <u>half the men worked</u> while
the other <u>half stood guard</u> with spears, shields, bows, and
coats of mail... (17)...<u>the laborers carried on their work</u>
with one hand supporting their load and one hand holding a weapon.
(18) <u>All the builders had a sword belted to their side</u>. The
trumpeter stayed with me to sound the alarm.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And i thought of
all the laborers i know who remain steady at the work.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I let myself
envision all the ones i know who stand guard with weapons --- not
literal weapons, but the powerful weapons that flow from “the
fervent, effective prayer of the righteous”. The most powerful
warriors among us are the ones who have weathered many years. It's
not their first rodeo... They can see a more complete image of life,
because they've let the Holy Warrior place many overlay pages upon
them. They see more, even as their eyes grow dim; their lenses don't
focus on the things of this world. They SEE MORE.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And they pray
fervently, passionately, powerfully ---- they pray as if victory
could unfold in the words they utter --- because they lift those
words to the ONE who is over all things.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
They know how to
draw a sword, because they've had many years of becoming well
acquainted with how it feels in their hands, how to sharpen it, how
to grasp it firmly and swing it at just the right moment. Their
aging, weakened hands can do more damage with the sword they hold
because they pull it from the sheath that's between the leather bound
pages of power and life. They know the double edged surfaces of the
sword they hold; it is heavier than a shaft of iron. It's the “Word
of God” and its power shakes the gates of hell and crumbles those
trained in terror.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Verse (19)... “The
work is very spread out, and we are widely separated from each other
along the wall. So when you hear the blast of the trumpet, rush to
wherever it is sounding. Then our God will fight for us!”
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh my heart – as
i read the words -- “we are widely separated from each other along
the wall...”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
How right Solomon
was, there really is nothing new under the sun.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
People have been
widely separated from those they love --- for ages and ages. But so
often, it is what is required --- for the work to be completed.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
No matter where we
are working. No matter what threats are given. No matter that there
are enemies trying to stop the building of the wall of hope and
goodness and life and love --- the final word is this ---</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Our God will
fight for us!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ol start="21"><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
(21)“We worked
early and late, from sunrise to sunset. And half the men were always
on guard...(23) “During this time, none of us ever took off our
clothes...we carried our weapons with us at all times...”</div>
</ol>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Solomon was right
--- “there is nothing new under the sun”.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There is much work
to be done ---
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Those who can build
---- build.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Those who can pray
---- pray.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Those who can lead
---- lead.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We must not be
deterred ---- we must not be afraid!</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Final
overlay --- “Our God will fight for us!”</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtAYtNH9VX1eyWwiRAcClUHyoUER_1YuFUmCTieJ7AV-ZadL011AEsSWteEKwXQZfEngP-NI9BzWjr0SjvFHjnD_i_W85IgZoJl-r5eR54z2btTX1wRsRUhP-Y0Baw4HFvtNaV07li-Tmc/s1600/11145117_2460758191419_7971265290465242713_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtAYtNH9VX1eyWwiRAcClUHyoUER_1YuFUmCTieJ7AV-ZadL011AEsSWteEKwXQZfEngP-NI9BzWjr0SjvFHjnD_i_W85IgZoJl-r5eR54z2btTX1wRsRUhP-Y0Baw4HFvtNaV07li-Tmc/s320/11145117_2460758191419_7971265290465242713_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(<span style="font-size: xx-small;">found this pic on fb -- don't know who to give the credit to --- but THANK YOU to whoever made it!)</span></td></tr>
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Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-44951224263722719542015-10-06T07:58:00.000-07:002015-10-14T01:07:57.592-07:00No Strings Attached...<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
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Seriously God... are you telling me
that after all these years of living and loving, i've been “off”.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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That's exactly what my Abba tells me.
But His words are wrapped with so much love and grace. Not berating
and harsh, but gently wooing. i find myself pausing lonnnnng to
actually grasp that He is once again using the “rod and staff” to
comfort me (even as He corrects me).
</div>
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That same rod will discipline me if i
linger too long on the guidance of the staff.
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It's the right moment to go silent. To
sit still, be steady, and drop my head. To allow the wind to blow
away what i thought..., and let the Son settle the warmth onto my
shoulders of what is better.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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It's been a mystery for most of my
decades.
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You might want to stop reading now ---
as what follows might be something you “got” long ago. You'll
possibly roll your eyes over the words below and declare inwardly,
she's a mess.</div>
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But as i reach for the robe over, and
over, and over again, i bend to the obedience of sharing what He's
teaching me and if only the slower to learn surround me, well, how
beautiful to know He calls even the slow ones His Beloved.
</div>
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After more than 5 decades of l-o-v-e,
here's the bony skeleton of me.</div>
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Why is it Lord that i can love someone
completely, sincerely, purely, with an upright heart, but the result
of my love for them might or might not bring love in return? It's not
a pitiful “i'm not loved” issue. Not at all. I am loved, this i
know. But, instead it's a lonely whisper of rejection and dismissal
that has plagued me for far too long. Today, is it's last day of
hiding in a back room.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In a recent conversation with my oldest
son, he said words that dove deep into the waters of what my Abba had
already begun pouring. He said, “Mom, do you know what you could do
to make me the happiest son in the world?... Let yourself rest and
know, that you are wildly loved.”</div>
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Steve and i have just finished reading
“Beyond Ordinary” by Trisha and Justin Davis. It's a great read
for the married couple who's decided they really do love each other,
but they are tired of the whiplash moments in their “good”
marriage when life hits too hard and the seatbelt of commitment that
holds them in place, might have saved the marriage but they're left
stunned and aching.
</div>
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It seems that man of mine and i are
always learning. We graduate out of one “class” feeling pretty
good about our new-found-knowledge only to realize the next “course”
we need to attend started maybe 2 or 3 days ago and we're behind
again. (Not really --- but well, sort of). Perhaps it's because we've
dedicated our lives to ministering to marriages that it seems we're
always 3 steps forward, two steps back on the path before us. And
being honest, (but not giving too much attention to or credit) it's a
reality that the Lord we love and serve so earnestly, He has an
enemy. And that enemy works day and night to stop the kids that love
and serve the Father. So sometimes... sometimes it feels like the
wind is blowing too hard to stick our little, feathery heads outside
our timid, creaky birdhouse... maybe we should just forgo the worms,
let's just huddle in and hide.
</div>
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But love...</div>
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Have you ever noticed how love compels
us onward... always.
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Self will invite us to hide.</div>
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Fear whispers, you might get hurt.</div>
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Rejection declares, they're not gonna
like you.</div>
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Isolation uses a megaphone, “you ---
are ---- alone”.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But love...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love is like the wind-chimes outside my
window. It's gentle but clear, it responds to the wind but not with
resistance or frustration. It glides with it and produces something
the wind alone could never have accomplished. joy-sounds.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love says don't hide, i want to use you
in the wide open spaces.</div>
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Love says, yes, you will get hurt, but
it's ok, i'm in tight with the One who can fix those gouges so that
you'll be even better than you were before the wound broke you.</div>
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Love says, oh, for sure, some will push
you away. They do me too. It hurts for a time, but then, when all
the dust settles, you'll find --- i'm still alive and well.</div>
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Love says, when you are most alone,
nothing can hide.</div>
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Trisha and Justin Davis share their
pursuit of extraordinary out of the shadows of ordinary. Thank God
for the beautiful ones like them who are willing to pull back the
shades and let us see GOD AT WORK.
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After all, if something is perfect ----
what need does it have of God.</div>
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<br /></div>
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In one of the chapters, Trisha says
something that whammed me. Steve was reading that morning (we take
turns), and as the words slipped through the air, tears slipped down
my face. Trisha was sharing about her own epiphany while reading a
Brennan Manning classic, Abba's Child, with her husband, Justin. Got
the picture here --- i burst into tears as my husband and i are
reading about what another couple was reading from yet another book.
Go ahead, laugh, yep, i'm a mess. (We are now reading Abba's Child –
my learning continues.)</div>
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But here's what brought about my salty
eruption. Trisha writes:</div>
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“In the past when i would
authentically and deeply love people with compassion and tenderness,
I often didn't get the same in return. While I love seeing people
succeed, it crushed me when they would break my trust in the
process... I had thought, 'If i am faithful to you, then you should
be faithful to me.'”</div>
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(I wrote in the book margin --- “this
has been a heart trap for me”...)</div>
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In my lifetime i've had many, many
friends. What a gift a true friend is. Many of you reading this blog,
you are God's gift to my heart.
</div>
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But throughout my life there have also
been a very few friends that devastated my heart with their false
reciprocation of love. We've all experienced those short-term
friendships that shocked us when we realized they were only there for
what they could get. But wait... we thought they'd be there forever.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For me, when i love a friend, i'm all
in. But what happens when the friend only wants to use you while
you're “in” their life, and when you no longer have anything they
want, they toss you out, perhaps even with a smile on their face.
</div>
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It's always been a mystery to me. Users
who take, and feel fine moving on to greener pastures after they've
gulped all the grass you've lovingly given them.
</div>
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Well --- Trisha and i could share a
long cup of java over this kind of hurt.</div>
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But, what she writes a paragraph later,
opened my eyes (and expanded my tear ducts).</div>
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“God's mercies are new every morning
because He knew we would need them every day. I had to embrace the
painful reality that my view of myself masked a dangerous illusion
that I would never be unfaithful, when in truth I am unfaithful to
God every day. Yet in his great love and his daily mercies, he still
chooses to love me. The question – would i surrender to this new
way of life that would ask me to do the same?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“My new life in Him is daily choosing
to surrender my need to find my identity in the way people respond to
the way I love them, forgive them, and trust them. The “impostor”
(from Chapter 2, Abba's Child), tells me to stop trusting others
because they will let me down.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
(Oh Trisha, thank you, can i pour you
another cup of coffee...)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Of all the beautiful, close-to-heart,
loving friends i have, i've always had this horrific fear lurking in
a backroom closet. An impostor that sent relentless messages, “if
they really knew you, they'd hit the road”... “remember, once you
stop doing what they want you to do, you'll be alone again”...
“you've been a misfit all your life, you'll never really fit in”...(i'm not saying these are "truths", but just what the impostor presses for)-------</div>
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and that impostor works relentlessly to
keep people apart, friends separated, hearts unsure (and he's not
just doing that in mine and Trisha's lives...)</div>
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But wait...
</div>
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If i am unashamedly loving others -----
then won't they love me back?</div>
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People pleasers silently believe that
if they can please you, then your overflow of happiness, will
sprinkle back on them. And at the end of the day, everybody goes home
smiling.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And yet ---- people pleasers often feel
the slam of the screen door in their face as they watch their
“friend” walk away ---- pleasing them didn't secure the
friendship. No amount of sincere love could maintain faithful
friendship.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bottom line ----</div>
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people choose.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They choose if they will love, why they
will love, when, where, how often they will love.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love is a choice --- when people are
concerned.</div>
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Love is a guarantee --- with God.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Inside my Bible, on one of those
blank pages at the beginning, on the thin, parchment like paper, i
have written:</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>My life in HIM is daily choosing to
surrender my need to find my identity in the way people respond to
the way i love them, forgive them, trust them. </i>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>The impostor tells me to stop
trusting others because they will let me down. This impostor works
against me trying to take over my thoughts, shut me down, and keep me
prisoner in the muck and mire of bitterness and self-protective
anger. (Trisha Davis)</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>This is painfully true in my life as
well. So i must daily choose to surrender to God how others see me or
respond to me. “Others” do no define my identity.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>I must choose to do the next right
thing... and focus on God's eyes on me, not others responses to me.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>God loves me ------- His mercies are
fresh and new every morning for me.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>God chooses to love me.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>That's my focus.</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>And therefore ---- i choose to love
others ----- freely --- with no “if i, then you...” strings
attached. </i>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Surrender all the strings to Abba
--- and love others as God loves me! (they don't have to love me
back) Abba Does Enough of that...</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's been over three years now since i
last spoke with a friend that walked away from my heart. She had no
idea how much i treasured her gentle friendship in my life.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was ten years prior, that a
different friend had exited our family's friendship.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Neither of them gave a reason. They
just went away, a slow fade.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Does it sound laughable to you --- that
as a grown woman --- i wept over the void they left?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I prayed for them, reached out to them,
forgave them, asked God to bless them, prayed for their kids, missed
their kids in our home, and each time i pulled out a
family-favorite-recipe they had shared, i wondered... what did i do
that drove them away...?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Did you know i've always struggled letting
a new friend get close ---- because i knew it would matter deeply to my
heart if/when they chose to walk-away?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a secret... shhhh... don't tell
anyone...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But when Brennan Manning exposed the
“impostor” and Trisha Davis shared her secret pain, my tears came
quick and they were laced with years of hurt, over honest friendship
rejected and a people-pleasers sorrow.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And God entered in ---- center stage
---- and whispered from His spotlight position (no microphone needed)
----</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“My dear girl, you've been living and
loving with your life wheels out of alignment. You've always thought
you loved unconditionally, but hear my loving words over you as i
make all this clear. You have loved much ---- but with strings
attached.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
What God? No, truly, this can't be
true...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“donna, just breathe and listen
carefully to My heart-words-of-life for you. You've not known it, but
I have... don't condemn yourself, instead, feel My grace.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You've always done it. Somehow when
you were the littlest of girls, you did it. You've done it so long,
you didn't know there was a better way. My way. The way I love.
You've always loved others, but you've had little invisible strings
attached to your love. You silently thought, 'if i do this for them,
then they'll naturally want to do this for me, and we'll both feel
loved, and all will be well'. 'if i love them 'good enough', then
they'll automatically love me back, and i won't be alone, i will be
loved.' 'if i love my children with focused selflessness, they'll
always know they are loved and they'll always love me back.' 'if i'm
a good friend to others, loyal and true, then they'll be a good
friend to me...loyal...true.'”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh Lord --- when the words aren't
polished and the rawness hangs out --- that sounds so horribly
selfish. It sounds like --- “i'll love others SO they will love me
back --- and that means the reason for my love --- is wrapped up in
what it will get me in return...” Oh GOD --- that's not the way it
should be. Oh Father, i've been so wrong...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And His Heaven-clean words came and
washed me again...
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“donna, you've loved. That matters.
Now I, God, want to take you further into the great mystery of LOVE.
Your strings-attached love has been your frightened way of trying to
self-protect yourself. When that first hurt came to you, as hurts
always come to everyone, you, like others, began trying to figure out
how you could outsmart the pains of life. And you decided you would
out-love others so you could have a good return for your investment
of love. You didn't trust the simple fact of MY LOVE flow, you wanted
to insure a flow of love would come from those 'indebted' to you. Do
you see my daughter? Look deeply at it. For it has grieved my heart
these past many years. That's why when your friend walked away, i
allowed that pain to sit sideways inside you. I cared that you were
hurting, but what was more important to me was that you begin to see
--- loving others is no guarantee of their love --- and yet, it's
what i want you to do each and every day --- no return policy
allowed. No strings attached. No --- i'll love you and then you'll
love me strategy allowed. Because, I, God, am the only true source of
love. I loved you first --- donna, have you always responded to my
love with love. You haven't. And... it's ok daughter.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I will always love you whether you love
me back or not.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I do not love you in order to gain your
love in return.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I love you no matter what.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I don't need your love to steady the
flow of my own.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I love you freely, completely --- with
no strings attached.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You can respond to Me however you like
– and I will always respond with love.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And that is what I am calling you to
now.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love others freely.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No strings attached.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Don't love your husband sweetly and
deeply, hoping you'll get a good return on your investment.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love your husband with a Heaven-gush of
surrender.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Don't love your children with the dream
that they will call you every day and invite you to lunch every
Sunday.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love your children for the pureness of
making sure they feel loved, accepted, seen, treasured.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No strings/hopes/desires/expectations
allowed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Don't love your friends with the dream
of never feeling alone or abandoned or forgotten.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love your friends because you are
willing to let My love water-fall-out-of-you in their direction,
their response is mine... not yours. If they don't love you back,
look in MY direction, you'll be flooded.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love with no strings attached.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Your love is not yours --- it is simply
mine flowing through you.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So know that I, your Daddy-God, I see
you loving others, and that brings me great joy ---</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You Are Loved Deeply not because you do
or do not love others ----
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
but because
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I AM LOVE and I choose you.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
How about you my dear one.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Pray deep and ask the Revealer to show
you if you too have been loving with a few little invisible strings
attached.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Don't answer quickly.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Give Him a chance to whisper clear.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I personally believe this
string-attached love has drained countless hearts and left just as
many feeling abandoned, betrayed, and cast to the side.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our Good Father wants the impostor
exposed, the strings clipped, and the unencumbered flow of love to
storm the gates of our lives.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just ask --- He'll show you too.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
----- i write this, with so much love
------</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
no strings attached,
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
donna </div>
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Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-64551779177004479692015-09-15T03:23:00.001-07:002015-09-15T07:21:25.546-07:00...and this is your Kingdom...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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He'd walk into our house with a smile
so bright it made you realize, life just got better. His greeting was
for everyone in the room, you could count on it, he wasn't one to
exclude anyone, he welcomed all. He was eager for life. Expressive
with words that came through a voice Goliath the giant would have
been envious of, his voice dripped of authority, his delivery was
weighted with strength.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But ask me what i remember most about
him... and i would say... love... and a verse.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He loved his wife, his sons, his
family, his friends --- he loved deep, he loved big.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you were in trouble, he was the guy
that would be on your steps; he'd have a plan of action before you
could open the door.
</div>
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And there was this verse that rolled
off his tongue as easily as chocolate melts in sunshine.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yours, O Lord, is the greatness, the
power, the glory, the victory, and the majesty. Everything in the
heavens and on the earth is yours, O Lord, and this is your Kingdom.
We adore you as the One who is over all things. Wealth and honor come
from you alone, for you rule over everything. Power and might are in
your hand, and at your discretion people are made great and given
strength.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
1 Chronicles 29:11-12</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
He and his wife gathered in our home
along with many other friends for a weekly time of small-group Bible
study. All our kids would romp and run in the wide open yard until
the sun went down, then they'd pile inside to play in the over-sized
room above our garage. Parents opening the Word together while the
Word-Giver watched over His gifts to them. Sweet days.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Only the One who made him could have
known his days were running short and he would be the first in the
room to meet the Maker face-to-face. He was the healthiest of us all,
never eating carbs past 6PM, he took care of himself, we were proud
of his self-control, even as we passed around the plate of brownies
again.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Perhaps it's because he went “home”
so soon, or more likely it was that he truly did have a special
presence, but often we still reflect on the impact he made.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Of the many friends i've been blessed
to welcome into my life --- few of them have planted a verse inside
me. Many have given wise words of counsel, more still have shared
laughter and joy, but it's a rare friend who can do all three, and it
is always those Holy-Words that settle into the deep places of life.
Cultivating one particular string of scripture words that came from
them so often, that now, their friendship sits right there in my
Bible tucked safely beside those eternal syllables. They seem to
actually be “present” in the revisiting of the words they spoke
so often.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My grandmother was the first --- i can
remember her quoting the Beatitudes. And then she'd say, “Oh these
words have helped me...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My mentor --- she'd roll off Romans
15:13 so quickly, you'd feel like joy and peace and hope just wrapped
you in their blanket and tucked you into the bed called trust.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And this friend, Jeff. Dozens of times
he would fill the air with words from 1 Chronicles, never would a
month pass by that it failed to apply to whatever our topic of
discussion was for the evening. Each and every time --- there was a
sense that God just nodded His great mighty head --- for God knew He
was being praised with every word.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jeff would say them again for many
reasons. Sometimes they'd come as a reminder --- “...everything in
the heavens and on the earth is yours, O Lord, and this is your
Kingdom....” He'd smile and say something like, “It's His kingdom
man, nothing slips by him in His Kingdom...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sometimes they'd come as a comfort ---
“...wealth and honor come from you alone, for you rule over
everything. Power and might are in your hand, and at your discretion
people are made great and given strength.” He'd say, “We've got
to remember God decides, we make our plans, but God decides how
they'll go... we gotta just trust His plan...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And once when someone in the room was
talking a bit boastfully, my friend just said, “Yours, O Lord, is
the greatness, the power, the glory, the victory, and the majesty.”
There was silence for a few seconds. Not another word was needed. The
focus was realigned to where it should be --- on the only One who is
worth boasting over.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There were no harsh words, no
reprimands or corrections.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just the application of Truth --- the
antidote for arrogance was applied.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And those of us paying close attention
--- were awed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This friend planted his scripture seed
in my heart over a decade ago. It's grown deep roots.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Last week, we went to a small island
off the coast of Kenya. To get there, we loaded our bags into a wagon
pulled by a tractor that carried us from the mainland to the volcanic
rock eden. Millions of years ago, the Maker had allowed a solid,
thick, rock base to connect the island to the shoreline, so even
today no shifting sand hinders the islands ebb and flow of guests.
When tide is low, the island workers easily walk the quarter mile
span in 6 inch deep water. Imagine our eyes, when at first glance it
literally looked like Jesus had called them forth as they appeared to
“walk on water”. There are such beautiful places on this earth
--- the Maker loves so well.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We'd gone to rest. We needed it. But
there was also a second much needed reason for our “holiday”. We
needed to pray long and begin working on a long-term project that
will require more of us than we feel able to produce. It's a
God-thing. His idea. So we needed to retreat and realign ourselves
carefully. Sort out the “us” part and reach for His More.<br />
<br />
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Isn't it just like the Good-One to give
an assignment, send us to a place He put special care into making,
and let us “rest” in the middle of crashing waves, sandy shores,
slow moving starfish, and waving coconut fronds. So far from our
home-shores, looking at a horizon we'd only ever read about, the
Indian Ocean was before us, we felt the realness of distant shores.<br />
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Five sleeps lay ahead with colobus
monkeys as our closest neighbors. We laid our heads down for the
first snore, and woke early to be with the One who held the waves in
place.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ever working at reading through the
Bible (again – since once or twice isn't enough for one as needy as
me), i was wrapping up 1 Chronicles. Chapters 28 and 29 would be my
focus for the morning. In 28, King David is giving his instructions
to Solomon for building the temple of the Lord; what David was not
allowed to build, Solomon would now do. Verses 9 and 10 gave me
pause, my reading slowed to a crawl.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As David spoke to his son, he said,
“And Solomon, my son, learn to know the God of your ancestors
intimately. <b>Worship and serve him with your whole heart and a
willing mind</b>. For <b>the Lord sees every heart and knows every
plan and thought</b>. <span style="font-size: medium;"><i>If you seek him, you will find
him </i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(Jeremiah says
to seek Him with your whole heart...)</i></span>. But if you forsake
him, he will reject you forever. <b>So take this seriously</b>. The
Lord has chosen you to build a Temple as his sanctuary. <span style="font-size: medium;"><i><b>Be
strong and do the work</b></i></span>.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Does it happen to you too? Reading
along in the holy arrangement of words, something launches off the
page and grabs you by the shoulders. And you know... i ---- need ----
this.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Minutes passed as my soul fed. And i
prayed for MY sons (David prayed for his, i'll pray for mine). Just sliding their names in where Solomon's name
is found --- and it's a prayer worth sitting with, worth repeating,
often.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And Michael, my son, learn to know
the God of your ancestors intimately....”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And Peter, my son, ...worship and
serve him with your whole heart and a willing mind...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Mike and Pete, take this seriously,
the Lord has chosen you to build a temple as his sanctuary... Solomon
built one of wood and gold, but your temples are made of bone and
flesh. Be strong and do the work, and boys, know this always, if you
seek him, you will find him...”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Word is alive --- it breathes LIFE
--- it travels from then to now and from here to where they are.<br />
<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The sun rose higher in the morning sky
when i passed from Chapter 28 and began strolling through 29. It's
where David finished with his instructions and gave gifts for the
temple. And then before naming Solomon as king, David does what he's
most famous for, he praises God (the only reason he became a great
warrior and king was because of the One who gave him that strength
and honor, David knew this). And as i rounded the corner of verse 11,
there he was, my good friend.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Suddenly Jeff became the voice inside
my head as verses 11 and 12 came flooding up from the pages and out
of my heart simultaneously.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<i><b>Yours, O Lord, is the
greatness, the power, the glory, the victory, and the majesty</b></i>
(i lifted my head to watch the waves crash against the ancient lava
rock walls --- greatness, power, victory, majesty, it sat right in
front of my eyes). <i><b>Everything in the heavens and on the earth
is yours, O Lord, and this is your Kingdom</b></i> (this, this wide
open space with endless sky and distant horizon, where peace comes to
rest, this too is your Kingdom). <i><b>We adore you</b></i> (i do
Abba, i adore YOU) <i><b>as the One who is over all things </b></i>(we
kids of yours don't always act like you are over all things, forgive
us Lord, for how blessed we are that You are).<i><b> Wealth and honor
come from you alone</b></i> (people think they earn it, they don't –
You give it), <i><b>for you rule over everything</b></i> (those waves
could kill me, they don't, you rule them). <i><b>Power and might are
in your hand</b></i> (how thankful i am), <i><b>and at your
discretion people are made great and given strength</b></i> (at your
discretion, not theirs, not mine --- you alone choose).”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Almost 5,000 days have passed since my
friend planted those words in my heart because of the many times he
repeated them, applied them, and lived them.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
His voice was as present this morning
as it was those many years ago.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Others in the room spoke during those
small-group days ---- but nothing they said has helped carry me from
those days to these the way his choice of words have.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Moving from earth to Heaven hasn't
changed how present his voice is when it's attached to Holy-words
that are eternally true and right and good.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And i wonder ------</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
of all the things we do and say ----
will anything we ever produce be more valuable than --- the planting
of God's words in the heart of another...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thank you Jeff Gore ----- for the good
planting you gave us.
</div>
Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122579696566673852.post-37948112508780228772015-08-26T05:10:00.000-07:002015-08-26T05:53:39.448-07:00The Monkeys are out of the Barrel<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
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In my childhood, i played often with a "Barrel of Monkeys". They were well-behaved, plastic monkeys of red, blue, green, and yellow. Stringing them together, linking their long curved arms --- they would hang from chairs and drape from doorknobs, what fun those days were. But friends, now i know for sure, the monkeys are out of the barrel. </div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Walking across the lawn of the seminary
where we teach in Kenya, the monkey business going on in the trees
beside me wouldn't be ignored. Focused on my task, I was hesitant to
pause and take notice of them. I needed to get to the duka, the small
store on campus, to get copies made for the mid-term exam we'd be
giving the next morning.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The commotion in the trees let me know
the vervet monkeys were in an uproar about something, but what?
That's always a mystery when it comes to monkeys. As long as i wasn't
under them, i should be fine. (Monkeys sometimes do the nastiest
things with what comes from just under their long fury tales.)
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Intent on my objective, i walked with
purpose.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Then the stone came flying near me,
bouncing across the grass. So i stopped. Turned and looked up, as if
i might have a talk with these fellas. Ha. Their grey fur could
barely be seen as they frolicked 40 feet up in the green leaves and
high branches. They wouldn't show their faces, they were hiding.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In that moment, i traveled back in
time, to my college days. Many moons back, sitting under trees on the
other side of the world, the squirrels and i would wrestle in a
similar way. Me with my lunch and a book, trying to squeeze a few
more needed facts into my overstuffed head, i'd study as i ate,
waiting for class to begin. Whether it was the same squirrel or a
family of them that took turns going to war with me, i never knew for
sure. But each day we'd “engage” in a silent battle, each wanting
to claim the bench under me. It was my favorite spot on campus. No
one passed that way often, the shade was cool and the breeze in the
leaves made the perfect soothing sound for an over-active mind. The
view was long and peace-filled, and i loved that quiet granite bench.
It was almost like a silent friend, always waiting for me, never late
and never angry if i was. But... the squirrel fought me daily, it too
counted that bench as a friend perhaps. For all the many times he
threw those hundreds of acorns at me, only two or three times was he
successful. Persistent he was, a marksman he was not. And while it
stung a bit the few times he was accurate, it only made me laugh. He
was a tiny squirrel, throwing a tiny acorn, and for me it felt more
like play than war.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But rocks from a monkey are much more
serious.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Life gets more serious as we grow older
doesn't it...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Pausing long enough to remember, and
smile to myself, i turned and walked more quickly, there was work to
be done. No time for monkeying around today. I stayed focused, the
monkey failed.<br />
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just seven days earlier, we'd had a
different, much more serious encounter with monkeys of another sort.
It happened in Nakuru Game Park. Since the park is only a short drive
from our home, we'd made a plan to take a day of “rest” there. We
arrived early morning, planned to safari all day, and leave in time
to be home before dark. Here, it's best to be home before dark.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bearly inside the gates, driving along
the dirt road surrounded by tall acacia trees and green, scrub
bushes, we encountered our first troop of baboons. Baboons are common
in and outside parks here, so rather than being excited to see them,
instead we pause to tuck away our snacks, baboons will invade your
space at the mere notion of a cracker. On this morning though,
thieving was not their priority. They were grooming one another and
oblivious to our arrival. One particularly large male caused us to
slow the car, he was massive, we paused for a gander at him. But
seconds after we'd stopped a commotion erupted from the bush just
beyond him. A heart-rending scream came from the heavy green cover,
and movement of leaves revealed another equally large baboon. As i
held my breath, knowing something was suffering just out of sight, my
everything froze. Then, in a violent show of aggression, the big arm
of the male, flung a tiny baby from the bush and into the ditch just
inches from our car. It was a newborn. Helpless, it screamed, but too
quickly he was upon it again. He did not care that we could see his
ruthlessness, he was intent on not just killing the helpless babe, he
was going to “play” it to death. Throwing it, biting it, jerking
it mercilessly, flinging it hard. It's tiny pink side was ripped
open, i knew it was only the beginning of its end.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Screaming inside our Lori-car, i
drowned out the babies screeches with my own. Beating the side of the
car with my arm, yelling to try and distract the cruel baboon, he
would not be deterred. So i opened by car door, just 3-4 feet from
him. My son and husband reacted quickly, fearing i was about to
emerge from the car and take on the fight bare-handed. I was not. But
instead, i opened and slammed the car door over and over again trying
desperately to distract and gain his attention. It worked for a split
second, as he turned he face full towards me, snarled his horrible
teeth at me, and never releasing the baby, he let me know, he would
do the same with me if i gave him a chance. Heart-breaking...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
To see something helpless dying before
your eyes and knowing there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop
the pain. It's not something easily passed through.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As we drove away, we were surprised
when several female baboons began chasing our car. It was their show
of aggression. And i was infuriated even more. They would not stand
together to defend the baby one of them had given birth to --- but
instead they would act in defense of the cruel “leader” of the
troop.<br />
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's most likely that the huge male had
just become the new patriarch of the troop, and his first act of
office was to clear the “debris” of the previous male's
offspring. But, there was a warped enjoyment as he killed that
helpless baby, and i longed for Heaven. In Heaven there will be no
murdering of babes.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Last night we enjoyed dinner with
friends. It doesn't happen often here for us. Missionary life for us
doesn't allow us to indulge in that sort of normal too very often.
But as we talked over dinner, yet another monkey story was shared.
And i silently thought to myself, “Ok Lord, i'm listening.” Since
usually if a matter keeps coming before me, i've lived long enough to
know, there's something i can learn or glean from the pieces.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our friend shared about an incident
with a vervet monkey in Milimani, the area where we use to live in
Kitale. Our dinner companion had a friend who witnessed this event,
and shared.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
While she was walking along the road, a
small group of vervet monkeys came down from the trees and walked
across the dirt road. A mother monkey among the group, walked as her
baby held on underneath her. This is the common way small babies
travel, holding on tight to their mother's chest. But as the mother
rushed across the road to avoid being hit by an oncoming picki
(motorcycle), the babe lost its grip and fell to the ground right in
front of the picki driver who ran over it. Instantly the baby monkey
died. The mother monkey rushed back to it, trying to awaken it, stir
it back to life, and get it to grab hold of her chest again. When she
finally realized her little one was dead, she sat beside it on the
roadway and w-a-i-l-e-d. Crying out in loud mourning sounds, the
monkeys around her, high in the trees, joined her in her grief, they
wailed and moaned with agonizing sounds.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They cared.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They remained with the grieving mother
monkey.
</div>
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They mourned with her.<br />
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So tonight, as sleep slipped away.
Counting sheep did no good, monkeys kept getting in the way.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Pondering..., rock throwing monkeys,
wailing monkeys, and killing monkeys, i prayed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's just always the best response.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
What are we to do in a world where
rocks are thrown --- not just by monkeys, but by people too?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just on the other side of the wall from
the monkeys in the trees, children were throwing rocks at the
monkeys, who were then turning and throwing rocks at me. They were
only giving out what was being dealt to them. And it's likely it was
all just a game to them. But, rocks can hurt, they are not little
acorns.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We people do the same things don't we?
We take on hurts inflicted by others, and if we are not intentional
with our hearts and minds, we end up turning and tossing hurts onto
those around us. It's not playful, it's painful.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Today i sat with a lady who has been
wounded often. And in her pain, she must be careful to not deliver to
others what has been handed to her. How? How could she keep from
doing that very thing? Because, we've got a place to put our pains,
it's best left at the foot of the Cross. We don't have to pick up
rocks and throw them at others. We are not made to act like monkeys,
we were created in the image of our Abba. He knew in this world we
would have trouble... He tells us not to be afraid when trouble
comes... to remember that He has overcome it... He did that at the
Cross. It's where all our “rocks” should be laid down. We forget
sometimes. We all forget sometimes, even those who might act like
they don't --- they do. But, it's good to pause and remember. The
hurts that come to us in this broken world, have a place to rest, we
need to lay them down. Monkeys and children throw rocks... we grown
ups know better.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then there's the two monkeys, both
holding a dead infant in their hands (baby monkeys are technically
called infants).
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One grieved over the death;
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
the other caused the death.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One wailed with companion monkeys who
cared deeply.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The murdering monkey was surrounded by
others who made not response to stop the murder or violence.<br />
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And i'm reminded, it really matters who
we surround ourselves with.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Who lives up close to us?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We are called to love everyone ---
that's a hard calling when there are rock-throwers.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But, being called to love our enemies
does not mean we have to let the pain-inflicters live up close and
personal in our lives.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We must hold ourselves apart from those
who deal in the ways of “death”. Whether it's death of body or
mind or spirit or heart. We must choose carefully who we “do life”
with.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The killer monkey was surrounded by
other monkeys who were numbed to the violence and pain. To them, it
was normal, likely an everyday occurrence. They thought little of it.
They knew nothing else.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But the wailing mother monkey, she was
surrounded by others who cared for her and her lose. She did not
mourn alone.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As i spoke with a the lady today, she
needed to be reminded, that her response to others reflects her
choosing of which kind of person she is. A rock-thrower? A person who
is numb to pain and lacking the heart to care for others? Or a person
who cares deeply, grieves with, and stays near by to the
broken-hearted?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In this place, as in many places around
the world, there is so much pain. Rocks come... pickis hit and
kill... brutality erupts... innocence is attacked.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not one person will escape this
spinning ball without suffering some sort of pain. How we respond to
that very pain either equips us to love others through theirs or it
numbs us from even noticing their wounds.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
People are not monkeys -----</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Monkeys can't help acting like the
small brained mammals they are.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But people --- we were made with the
capacity to do good --- always ---- we have it within us to do the
good that is so desperately needed in this world.<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The fruits of the Spirit are --- love,
joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness
and self-control.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We people, made in the image of the
Creator , these good fruits, can flow through us. The world needs
them to flow through us. No matter how the world around us acts ---
whether monkeys or people, we are called to
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
put our rocks where they belong,
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
choose carefully who we do life with
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
so we are better able to do it right
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
--- even towards the ones who are busy
throwing rocks.<br />
<br />
Psalms 37 ------ says it so well...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-1">"Don’t worry about the wicked</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-1">or envy those who do wrong.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-2" id="en-NLT-14429"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>For like grass, they soon fade away.</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-2">Like spring flowers, they soon wither.</span></span></i></span> </div>
<div class="poetry top-1" style="text-align: center;">
<div class="line">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span class="text Ps-37-3" id="en-NLT-14430"><sup class="versenum"> </sup><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Trust in the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> and do good.</span></span></b></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-3">Then you will live safely in the land and prosper.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-4" id="en-NLT-14431"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-4" id="en-NLT-14431"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Take delight in the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-4">and he will give you your heart’s desires.</span></span></i></span></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
<div class="poetry top-1" style="text-align: center;">
<div class="line">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-5" id="en-NLT-14432"><sup class="versenum"> </sup><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>Commit everything you do to the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>.</b></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-5">Trust him, and</span></span></b></span></i></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-37-5"> <span style="font-size: large;">he will help you</span>.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-6" id="en-NLT-14433"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></b></span></i></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-6" id="en-NLT-14433"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>He will make your innocence radiate like the dawn,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-6">and the justice of your cause will shine like the noonday sun.</span></span></i></span></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
<div class="poetry top-1" style="text-align: center;">
<div class="line">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-7" id="en-NLT-14434"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Be still in the presence of the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-7">and wait patiently for him to act.</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-37-7">Don’t worry about evil people who prosper</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-7">or fret about their wicked schemes.</span></span></i></span></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
<div class="poetry top-1" style="text-align: center;">
<div class="line">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-8" id="en-NLT-14435"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Stop being angry!</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-8">Turn from your rage!</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span class="text Ps-37-8">Do not lose your temper—</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-8">it only leads to harm.</span></span></b></span><span class="text Ps-37-9" id="en-NLT-14436"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-9" id="en-NLT-14436"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>For the wicked will be destroyed,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-9">but those who trust in the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> will possess the land.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-10" id="en-NLT-14437"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Soon the wicked will disappear.</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-10">Though you look for them, they will be gone.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-11" id="en-NLT-14438"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><i><span class="text Ps-37-11" id="en-NLT-14438"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>The lowly will possess the land</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-11">and will live in peace and prosperity.</span></span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-12" id="en-NLT-14439"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>The wicked plot against the godly;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-12">they snarl at them in defiance.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-13" id="en-NLT-14440"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-13" id="en-NLT-14440"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>But the Lord just laughs,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-13">for he sees their day of judgment coming.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-14" id="en-NLT-14441"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>The wicked draw their swords</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-14">and string their bows</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-37-14">to kill the poor and the oppressed,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-14">to slaughter those who do right.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-15" id="en-NLT-14442"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-15" id="en-NLT-14442"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>But their swords will stab their own hearts,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-15">and their bows will be broken.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-16" id="en-NLT-14443"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>It is better to be godly and have little</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-16">than to be evil and rich.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-17" id="en-NLT-14444"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-17" id="en-NLT-14444"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>For the strength of the wicked will be shattered,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-17">but <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> takes care of the godly</b></span>.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-18" id="en-NLT-14445"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Day by day the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> takes care of the innocent,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-18">and they will receive an inheritance that lasts forever.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-19" id="en-NLT-14446"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-19" id="en-NLT-14446"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>They will not be disgraced in hard times;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-19">even in famine they will have more than enough.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-20" id="en-NLT-14447"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>But the wicked will die.</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-20">The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>’s enemies are like flowers in a field—</span></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-20">they will disappear like smoke.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-21" id="en-NLT-14448"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>The wicked borrow and never repay,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-21">but the godly are generous givers.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-22" id="en-NLT-14449"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-22" id="en-NLT-14449"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Those the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> blesses will possess the land,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-22">but those he curses will die.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-23" id="en-NLT-14450"><sup class="versenum"> </sup><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> directs the steps of the godly.</b></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-23">He delights in every detail of their lives.</span></span></b></span></span><span class="text Ps-37-24" id="en-NLT-14451"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-24" id="en-NLT-14451"><sup class="versenum"> </sup><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>Though they stumble, they will never fall,</b></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-24">for the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> holds them by the hand.</span></span></b></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-25" id="en-NLT-14452"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Once I was young, and now I am old.</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-25">Yet I have never seen the godly abandoned</span></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-25">or their children begging for bread.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-26" id="en-NLT-14453"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-26" id="en-NLT-14453"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>The godly always give generous loans to others,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-26">and their children are a blessing.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><i><span class="text Ps-37-27" id="en-NLT-14454"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Turn from evil and do good,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-27">and you will live in the land forever.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-28" id="en-NLT-14455"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-28" id="en-NLT-14455"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>For the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> loves justice,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-28">and he will never abandon the godly.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-28">He will keep them safe forever,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-28">but the children of the wicked will die.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-29" id="en-NLT-14456"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-29" id="en-NLT-14456"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>The godly will possess the land</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-29">and will live there forever.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span class="text Ps-37-30" id="en-NLT-14457">The godly offer good counsel;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-30">they teach right from wrong.</span></span></b></span><span class="text Ps-37-31" id="en-NLT-14458"></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-31" id="en-NLT-14458">They have made God’s law their own,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-31">so they will never slip from his path.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-32" id="en-NLT-14459"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>The wicked wait in ambush for the godly,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-32">looking for an excuse to kill them.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-33" id="en-NLT-14460"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-33" id="en-NLT-14460"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>But the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> will not let the wicked succeed</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-33">or let the godly be condemned when they are put on trial.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-34" id="en-NLT-14461"><sup class="versenum"> </sup><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>Put your hope in the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>.</b></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-34">Travel steadily along his path.</span></span></b></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-37-34">He will honor you by giving you the land.</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-34">You will see the wicked destroyed.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-35" id="en-NLT-14462">I have seen wicked and ruthless people</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-35">flourishing like a tree in its native soil.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-36" id="en-NLT-14463"></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-36" id="en-NLT-14463">But when I looked again, they were gone!</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-36">Though I searched for them, I could not find them!</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-37" id="en-NLT-14464"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Look at those who are honest and good,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-37">for<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b> a wonderful future awaits those who love peace.</b></span></span></span><span class="text Ps-37-38" id="en-NLT-14465"></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-38" id="en-NLT-14465">But the rebellious will be destroyed;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-38">they have no future.</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-39" id="en-NLT-14466"><sup class="versenum"> </sup><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> rescues the godly;</b></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-39">he is their fortress in times of trouble.</span></span><span class="text Ps-37-40" id="en-NLT-14467"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span></b></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Ps-37-40" id="en-NLT-14467"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> helps them,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-40">rescuing them from the wicked.</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-37-40">He saves them,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-37-40">and they</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-37-40"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>find shelter in him</b></span></span>." (NLT)</span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-37-40"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">©2015 Donna Taylor Reaching for the Robe </span></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-37-40"><br /></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-37-40"><br /></span></span></i></span></div>
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Donna Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12780252013210712336noreply@blogger.com1