Mr. and Mrs. Goose --- simple LIVING

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”.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I know... i'm not suppose to actually admit that am i?

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”?

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.

Last night as i lay my head down, i pondered on the lone goose by the watering hole.

He was the picture of what i should be ----- he was doing it so well.

I found myself in class again. Time to learn, from a wee feathered creature in a dangerous place.

My heart was engaged because ---- he was ----- alone.

Egyptian geese are not suppose to be alone. It's instinctively placed inside them to have a companion – another goose --- one goose – beside them.

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.)

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...

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.

He was not alone

She is not alone.

They know who they are and who they belong to and what they are doing.

And they do it.

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.

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.

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.

A goose can teach.

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.

A goose can teach.

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.

Does Mrs. Goose look at them and wonder, “why can't i have more of my kind around me?”

i watch her and i know the answer ----- she does not.

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.

A goose beside a muddy water hole in a dangerous place ---- can teach.

... do others think on the same sort of things?

... or am i perhaps “alone” in my learning.

There are those among us who are intensely l-o-n-e-l-y. Even surrounded by people, aloneness can still come.

Some will distract themselves from the sense of aloneness by

a hobby --- something to do ---

or work --- something to accomplish ---

or buying ----- something to have ----

or going --- somewhere to be ---

or watching ---- something to entertain ----

or medicating --- someway not to feel ----

or drinking ---- someway to numb ----

or retreating --- someway to hide ---

or succeeding --- someway to feel significant ---

or dominating --- someway to feel powerful ---

or denying --- someway to feel innocent ---

or defending --- someway to feel right ---

it goes on and on.

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.

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”.

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.”

I've read it over and over again.

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.

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.

Mrs. Goose was teaching this very lesson, better put, she was living this very way.

Even as i write, i laugh at myself.

Is it ludicrous to watch a couple of geese, consider how they live, and see something worth learning?

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.

But do we really? Or do we impose so much more on ourselves?

Is it possible that the simple, focused, living of the geese by the watering hole holds golden lessons we are too busy to notice.

There are many differences for sure, but if we are wise, we will allow ourselves to learn from their silent sharing.

And for today --- as i seek to learn --- i see this clearly.

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.

They are focused on exactly what is their part ---

------ they graze and eat

------ they stay near enough to help each other

-------they are always watchful against those who would cause harm

------ they are not concerned over what other birds think of them

------ they don't criticize or judge other birds either

------ they share what is around them and never complain

------ they are thankful for another day of living, they know how close death is

------ they never sleep too deeply nor celebrate to loudly (for they know there is always something lurking near willing to end them)

------ they don't compare themselves to others, and they don't tell other birds how they should behave.

They are focused ---- content ----- peaceful ---- persevering ---- dedicated.

In their solidarity and autonomy, they do not view their simple life as empty or lonely.

They could...

But they do not.

As i watch the pair of simple geese, i rethink DeMello's words, and see that not one line applies to their life.

Just as not one line of it applied to Jesus' life.

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.

Perhaps we might say, “well, their assignment is simple...”

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.

There is a way to live focused --- peaceful --- content --- and faithful.

Sharp hooves might surround us (unkind people saying unkind things, threatening to do even worse if they can).

Hyenas might approach (those who look for death and then will devour us with bone crushing jaws that make us tremble).

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).

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”).

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.

And the morning light will find us ----------

doing what we were created to do ------------

loving God and loving others.

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).

 

These Last 30 Days...together

It's come to an end.

I sit on his bed typing these words as he sorts through clothes and shoes and memories.

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.

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.

And with the goodbye looming on our horizon, this Christmas i saw things in a different way.

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.

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.

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?

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...

He released His Son on Christmas morning into the hands of the unable and unworthy ----- for one reason alone. HIS LOVE.

He released what was His greatest treasure ----- because of His real love for those He would adopt into His fold.

Christmas is a time we celebrate with colorful lights, evergreen trees, carefully wrapped presents, and tables overflowing.

For me, this year, i allowed myself to weep over The Gift ----- that could only be ours because the Father gave Him up.

Now ---

my dear son is not the Christ child ----- and i am not the Father.

But we are all made in His image, and He feels as we feel.

So this Christmas season, i've learned something new.

Because of love for another ----- we have been taught to release what we love most.

Our Yahweh taught it to us --- He did it for us.

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.

So as i watch him pack, and we talk over the details of the next few days, i write.

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.

To tell it rightly, we must go back 12 years.

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.

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.

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”.

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. :)

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.

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.

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.

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.

We are so thankful.

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.

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. 

So on December 14^th, 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!!!

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. 

God gave us 3 perfect days.

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.

It was a dream trip.

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.

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, 

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. 

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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. 

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. 

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. 

 

We stood in front of the cave where those monstrous, mane-less killers stashed the bones of their victims.

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. 

(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.)

He's just finished packing his second bag.

It's really happening.

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).

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.

And each day we work to remain diligent in our eagerness to obey Him and serve others.

Keeping our chins up and our hearts true (Kweli Moyo) --- we do the best we can to submit and stay.

But there are those moments when our hearts melt ---

and in truth we can only say ----

it is ever-so-hard to say ----

goodbye----NO – not goodbye --- rather --- we say --- see you later son

we will see you soon son ----

we will see you again ----

oh how we do love you ----- 

My wish list for today...

 

 

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.

...and i...

i will work carefully to give her a map.

My hands will not hold it, my words must.

And those words will need to come ever so gently, but with a sure pressing of the Truth in them.

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.

It's not TB – but it is suffocating her.

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).

There's no medicine she can take for this sickness that has stolen her peace and brings suffering to her heart.

But there is an antidote available. This morning we will begin administering it.

Forgiveness.

Forgiveness is the only cure for her.

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.

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.

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...

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.

She understood this dynamic. She was not one to rebel or cause trouble.

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.

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.

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.

All was right in their world... or so they thought.

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.

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?”

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.

In time, she began to sit up in the dark. It was easier in the darkness.

Her auntie had been caring for her day and night; always caring for her head, feeding her, and cleaning her body tenderly.

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.

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.

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.

The mother was outraged, for her very own brother who had done this to her child.

But not even a lioness can stand against a lion.

She gathered her daughter, prayed with her sister-in-law, and went.

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.

So, nothing was done to hold the brother accountable; nothing could be done.

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.

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.

When she speaks, her voice is soft and gentle.

When i speak to her, my voice is as well.

She exudes kindness.

She compels kindness around her.

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.

She was wronged. Terribly wronged.

Today she will walk through my gate. We will open The Book together.

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.

Judges could rule and put all evil-doers in countless prison cells.

But it would not release her mind from the bondage it holds within its wounded self.

Honesty compels me to scream through silent words typed ----- IT --- IS ----- NOT------ FAIR!!!!!

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.

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.

Abba ---- help her ---- punish the one who wronged her ---- let her feel your protection today, even though she was not protected then.

Gandhi said, “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”

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.

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.

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.

I sit with Isaiah as the sun rises through these acacia trees.

And the whisper comes strong ----

“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.

They will rebuild the ancient ruins... repair cities destroyed... revive them... (what was ruined can be rebuilt, what was destroyed can be repaired)

Instead of shame and dishonor, you will enjoy a double share of honor... (suffering can bring strength that will be used for good)

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)

Your Words are perfect Lord.

Help me today to help her see how Your Words fit perfectly in her.

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.

I long for you to take us Home Lord.

My clay-covered self can barely make sense of it all (actually --- i can't).

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.

My wish list today Lord -----

please set her free and heal her wounds.

"there is nothing new under the sun"...

Tired fingers open Holy Words as a weeping heart wipes leaking tears. And the brokenness of the world whispers weakly ---- we need ...

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.

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.

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.

King Solomon declared in Ecclesiastes that “there is nothing new under the sun”.

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^rd 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.

Solomon wasn't being negative --- he was being clear.

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.

Terror has emerged again ---- but it is not new. In these wonderful old pages, the revisiting of it's schemes can be seen, and the sureness of its defeat is remembered.

Nehemiah had trouble on his hands.

It's the place where the days of old met my day today on the space of a couch this morning.

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).

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).

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.

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.

Overlay page --- “when you obey God, there will be enemies who oppose you...”

Nehemiah's response to this --- he prayed.

“Hear us, our God, for we are being mocked...”

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”.

Overlay page --- “keep steady at the work donna, no matter what goes on around you.”

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.

Overlay page --- “sometimes enemies will criticize with words, but sometimes their plans will bring threat of an attack”.

Nehemiah's response to these plans of an attack --- “We prayed to our God and guarded the city day and night to protect ourselves.”

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 overlay page of “prayer” 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.

Imagine with me how tired these workers must have been.

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.

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.

The mumblings and grumblings of those around us ------ can weigh us down ---- like lead boots in a lake.

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.

It's what happened in Jerusalem. Complaints began, people were discouraged and tired, they were weak, the doubting thoughts and strained attitudes were contagious.

Sanballat and Tobiah were not the only enemies at work against the builders on the wall.

The most dangerous enemies are the ones who find a way to sneak inside our “camp” --- and come out of our own mouths.

Overlay page --- “don't let murmuring come from your mouth or sit in your thoughts, don't surround yourself with those who do”.

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). 

There's nothing new under the sun --- is there?

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!”

Only God could let Nehemiah's strength speak to my tears this morning.

His words spoke straight through from those days long gone to these days before us.

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.

But we kids... we get tired... we hear threats... and we wonder... will we ever be able to finish the work before us...

Then word of terror comes --- and we wonder, will they swoop down on us and kill us and end our work...?

And we doubt ----- ourselves ---- as we doubt ---- the One.

But the Nehemiah's are among us.

They must not be silent before us.

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”.

Overlay page --- DO NOT shrink back, do not be afraid – Remember the Lord is great --- fight for what He has given you.

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-------

Do not be afraid...

donna – do not be afraid for your sons and daughter.

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.

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...

(15)”When our enemies heard that we knew of their plans and that God had frustrated them, we all returned to our work on the wall. (16) But from then on, only half the men worked while the other half stood guard with spears, shields, bows, and coats of mail... (17)...the laborers carried on their work with one hand supporting their load and one hand holding a weapon. (18) All the builders had a sword belted to their side. The trumpeter stayed with me to sound the alarm.”

And i thought of all the laborers i know who remain steady at the work.

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.

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.

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.

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!”

Oh my heart – as i read the words -- “we are widely separated from each other along the wall...”

How right Solomon was, there really is nothing new under the sun.

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.

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 ---

“Our God will fight for us!”

(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...”

Solomon was right --- “there is nothing new under the sun”.

There is much work to be done ---

Those who can build ---- build.

Those who can pray ---- pray.

Those who can lead ---- lead.

We must not be deterred ---- we must not be afraid!

Final overlay --- “Our God will fight for us!”

(found this pic on fb -- don't know who to give the credit to --- but THANK YOU to whoever made it!)

No Strings Attached...

Seriously God... are you telling me that after all these years of living and loving, i've been “off”.

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).

That same rod will discipline me if i linger too long on the guidance of the staff.

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.

It's been a mystery for most of my decades.

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.

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.

After more than 5 decades of l-o-v-e, here's the bony skeleton of me.

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.

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.”

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.

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.

But love...

Have you ever noticed how love compels us onward... always.

Self will invite us to hide.

Fear whispers, you might get hurt.

Rejection declares, they're not gonna like you.

Isolation uses a megaphone, “you --- are ---- alone”.

But love...

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.

Love says don't hide, i want to use you in the wide open spaces.

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.

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.

Love says, when you are most alone, nothing can hide.

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.

After all, if something is perfect ---- what need does it have of God.

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.)

But here's what brought about my salty eruption. Trisha writes:

“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.'”

(I wrote in the book margin --- “this has been a heart trap for me”...)

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.

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.

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.

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.

Well --- Trisha and i could share a long cup of java over this kind of hurt.

But, what she writes a paragraph later, opened my eyes (and expanded my tear ducts).

“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?

“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.”

(Oh Trisha, thank you, can i pour you another cup of coffee...)

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)-------

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...)

But wait...

If i am unashamedly loving others ----- then won't they love me back?

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.

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.

Bottom line ----

people choose.

They choose if they will love, why they will love, when, where, how often they will love.

Love is a choice --- when people are concerned.

Love is a guarantee --- with God.

Inside my Bible, on one of those blank pages at the beginning, on the thin, parchment like paper, i have written:

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.

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)

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 must choose to do the next right thing... and focus on God's eyes on me, not others responses to me.

God loves me ------- His mercies are fresh and new every morning for me.

God chooses to love me.

That's my focus.

And therefore ---- i choose to love others ----- freely --- with no “if i, then you...” strings attached.

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...

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.

It was ten years prior, that a different friend had exited our family's friendship.

Neither of them gave a reason. They just went away, a slow fade.

Does it sound laughable to you --- that as a grown woman --- i wept over the void they left?

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...?

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?

It's a secret... shhhh... don't tell anyone...

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.

And God entered in ---- center stage ---- and whispered from His spotlight position (no microphone needed) ----

“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.”

What God? No, truly, this can't be true...

“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.

“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.'”

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...

And His Heaven-clean words came and washed me again...

“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.

I will always love you whether you love me back or not.

I do not love you in order to gain your love in return.

I love you no matter what.

I don't need your love to steady the flow of my own.

I love you freely, completely --- with no strings attached.

You can respond to Me however you like – and I will always respond with love.

And that is what I am calling you to now.

Love others freely.

No strings attached.

Don't love your husband sweetly and deeply, hoping you'll get a good return on your investment.

No.

Love your husband with a Heaven-gush of surrender.

Don't love your children with the dream that they will call you every day and invite you to lunch every Sunday.

No.

Love your children for the pureness of making sure they feel loved, accepted, seen, treasured.

No strings/hopes/desires/expectations allowed.

Don't love your friends with the dream of never feeling alone or abandoned or forgotten.

No.

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.

Love with no strings attached.

Your love is not yours --- it is simply mine flowing through you.

So know that I, your Daddy-God, I see you loving others, and that brings me great joy ---

You Are Loved Deeply not because you do or do not love others ----

but because

I AM LOVE and I choose you.

How about you my dear one.

Pray deep and ask the Revealer to show you if you too have been loving with a few little invisible strings attached.

Don't answer quickly.

Give Him a chance to whisper clear.

I personally believe this string-attached love has drained countless hearts and left just as many feeling abandoned, betrayed, and cast to the side.

Our Good Father wants the impostor exposed, the strings clipped, and the unencumbered flow of love to storm the gates of our lives.

Just ask --- He'll show you too.

----- i write this, with so much love ------

no strings attached,

donna