A Time for Grace

 

I have prayed for healing by bedsides, to see some prayers answered and others not. I’ve been healed instantly, and at other times it is was a process that built character and perseverance (Romans 5:3-5). Right now, my granddaughter is recovering from Miller Foster Syndrome, learning to walk again and to see without double vision. I have prayed for instant healing, but also for wisdom and insight as to her Kingdom calling. Today, watching a video of her using a walker and getting stronger, the Lord started revealing that her healing would be a process that would be a pivotal point in her life, creating character and perseverance. He started downloading this new blog post and referring to her as being in a spring season of rain. Yesterday, the rain poured here causing floods, and waterfalls off the roof and down the deck steps. Spring rain has a strength and movement, characterized by power and authority, like no other season. Yesterday, she turned five years old. The years between three and five are when character takes permeant root, after that we build on what has been established, but after that, major character changes require something dynamic to shift. The Lord’s grace often can only be seen in hindsight. Waiting, has been a current theme in a bible study through Habakkuk, prayers with a joy group, and dreams from the Lord. Grace could heal her immediately, but oh the loss of what she is receiving now would be a greater loss if not for the process. She had already been stepping into a season of power, but lacking the authority of taking control of her body that she is now experiencing in physical therapy.

She has as unusual connection with my husband, her Pappy, who she never met. He passed in the fall, years before she was born. The week before he passed, the Lord led him in revelation bringing healing to our marriage, and clarity to his health. The Lord reminded me of something he said during that conversation. He was sorry that his body was deteriorating quickly and that he wouldn’t be able to take care of himself soon, making the burden on me even greater. He wasn’t afraid to die; he was afraid of what was coming and how that would affect his family. He had worked hard to keep me in the dark as much as possible. He refused to let me go to doctor appointments, and kept his medicines from me so I couldn’t see how much he was taking or what it was for (there were baskets everywhere of old and new bottles). He was mad at himself for life choices he had made that led to some of his health issues. Could he have quiet smoking earlier, exercised more, ate better? It was too late to make those choices now. He was heading into his winter season. A time when water stands still and we watch life go by. 

That last week was one of the happiest of his life. We celebrated our 30^th anniversary and his 56^th birthday while camping as a family. He told us he slept on his arm wrong and that he had a migraine. We didn’t notice that he wasn’t using his left arm, eating with his right hand (only noticed in photos afterward). The signs something was wrong, but not shared, because he didn’t want the camping trip to end. The Lord’s grace has perfect timing. While my granddaughter can pull from grace as a process now that will give hindsight to all of her future choices, my husband wanted immediate and painless grace to what he saw coming. God is grace, and His timing is perfect for whatever season we are in. He knows our heart, our journey, and our purpose, and our prayers are answered exactly when they should be.

Seasons of Water

 

If I had my perfect tiny house in the woods somewhere, it would be on a stream instead of a lake. There are many different reasons for this. First, I love the sound of running water. Second, running water is clearer than water that stands still, where plants like algae can grow. As I was thinking about this in prayer, God brought up an old song called “Keep Your Lure in The Water” by Randy Travis. I wondered am I stepping out in faith and going where I’m called to go. Now retired, I rarely leave my home. Am I being complacent? That’s when I realized my life has been like seasons of water. There were two parts to my job, I created exhibit environments for preschool children and parents to grow, and designed hands-on art programs that helped people love literature and develop character. Now the true one focus of my job was to highlight exhibits and create interest in them. As a person of prayer, God showed me the importance of increasing literacy in the region and using the power of words to build character. It was never overt. God directed me and I was obedient. I prayed without ceasing for most of my 33-year career. I watched parents play with their children and talk about things like honesty, kindness, caring for others, taking turns, being humble, respect, and patience. During art programs parents would ask their children about their art, what it meant to them, how it helped them see the exhibits, and what about the exhibits and their interaction that impacted them. It was exhausting, challenging and inspiring all at the same time. At the height of my career, I was working 60-70 hours a week, often seven days a week, creating 120 programs a year and designing new preschool exhibits every two months. My life was like white-water rafting. Swift, steady, and often unpredictable, but greatly satisfying. My dreams were filled with visions for exhibits, books that related to our traveling exhibits, and creative art ideas that brought exhibits and books alive. God inspired all of it. Life was fast and fruitful.

Since retiring, I have been in a season of stillness, recuperating from years of being on the edge of empty. Each day I poured everything I had out, and at night I would rest in His presence and be refilled. Recently, I have seen years of extended loss, and redirection. Long moments of stillness and peace. I am no longer thirsty having been saturated in the waters of His love day and night, and night and day. It’s been just me and God hanging out with the fish. As I think about how much I love fishing, how God called me to be a fisher of men, I wonder if that is still the case. The memory of taking my son fishing when he started college is teaching me some new lessons. While I grew up fishing, my children didn’t fish with me. When we camped, I would send them out fishing with their dad while I cleaned up camp and prepared meals. My son was surprised to learn how much I loved fishing. We went charter fishing in Florida before the holiday season started. The rest of the boat was filled with dads and their sons. We put our lures in the water and we were still and waited. It’s a special skill to wait on the Lord, eagerly listening, feeling for a pulse on the line, and awaiting with anticipation. We started pulling in the fish. The others gathered around us thinking we had found a school of fish, yet we continued to be the only ones catching. We caught over 120 pounds of fish that day. Listening, knowing the touch of the Lord, and believing in His goodness is always rewarded in prosperity and peace.

As I think about this season of being in still waters, I feel like it’s a new season of being reborn. This stillness is new, I went from never being alone, to almost always being alone. Yet God is still the constant companion. The enemy whispers I have fallen away, just lies. God reminds me of the little fish I caught and how I would release them back into the water for them to continue to grow. That’s the season I am in now. It may not seem fruitful from a worldly perspective, but God has released me back into still waters to take me deeper into His presence and His glory. Fish get put back when they are not ready for their next assignment. Perhaps I’m being fattened up by the Global Celebration School of Supernatural Ministry so that I’m ready for my next assignment. I am thankful for the meals of truth, like good fats that stick to my bones, protein that is developing new muscles, and the wine of joy that is starting to bubble up in my blood. 

 

 

Pushed to Obedience

There have been several times in my prayer life when God has pushed me to obedience and I have been blown away by his response. As I was praying into the word “push” this morning He reminded me of the time He pushed me to growl in church. As an extreme introvert, I can tell you that was no easy task. I was on the floor in front of the alter praying, when I heard God say “I need you to roar and bring my people to the river of living water.” The worship band was playing a song about living water. As I wrestled with God the song came to an end and I thought I was off the hook, too late. Then they started playing the next song about coming to the river. I remember taking a deep breath and saying “ok.” As I sat there on my knees, I practiced what it might look like, “quietly” roaring. I sounded a lot like a sick kitten. That’s when I told God I was willing to roar, but I didn’t know how. He was going to have to help if He really wanted me to roar. That’s when my stomach started churning, like a raging fire had been lit inside my belly. I actually thought I was going to be sick. As the fire intensified, I said “ok” again and opened my mouth. Up from the deepest parts of my soul came a revibrating roar. A wave of power came out of my mouth, bounced off the wall at the front of the church and hit me on the way out to the congregation. That was a turning point in our call for revival.

Several times after that during worship we were asked to roar and call out for revival, but it was not the same. In all of my experiences being “pushed” I can say honestly, I was willing to take the first step of obedience, but God was never expecting me to act completely on my own. This journey is meant to be lived hand-in-hand with God. Jesus made that possible. The creator of all has a plan that includes us, but it is His plan and requires His touch. Had I roared in my own ability, that sick little kitten would have just sounded a little louder and nothing would have changed. True change only happens in the authority and power of the one true God. We are called to be His hands, feet, heart, and mouth. Come in obedience today, but allow God to move through you so that what happens from your “ok” makes a difference.

Unique as a Snowflake

 

I was thanking God this morning for all the beauty I’m surrounded by, and in particular the blessings of all my unique Christmas boughs. Each one has a story. I love the diversity of the ornaments, the themes, what they are each made of, and their different colors. As I’m thanking God for His blessings, I suddenly have an “ah ha” moment, there is one thing that ties all of the boughs together. Ice and snowflakes. All these years and I never noticed it. The Michigan State bough has several Spartan snowflakes. The “folk art” bough is primarily all wooden snowflakes of different sizes and shapes. In the living room my original bough is made with handcrafted glass icicles from a local artist, over 30 years old. There is also a dragonfly and metal snowflake bough. The bedroom bough of purple and fuchsia bulbs has three-dimensional metal snowflakes I found at a hardware store in Florida 20 years ago and intricate silver snowflakes, both have to be polished every year. A new bough went up this year in the bathroom and contains all of my favorite ornaments that used to go on my tree. I call it my element bough because there is wood, fiber, glass, metal, clay, bamboo, oranges, and porcelain ornaments. There is even a sand dollar with Mary and baby Jesus painted on it. Materials matter when you are a textile major. My Christmas tree is filled with crocheted snowflakes I received as a wedding gift and has a wooden snowflake as the tree topper. This year I added giant paper snowflakes to the snowman decorations in my kitchen.

So, I start praying into snowflakes. Why do I love them? Why is God highlighting them? This obviously goes with my blog theme. Does God want me to write about snowflakes and if so, what does he want me to say?

“My people are like snowflakes.” Each one is created uniquely, no two, not even twins are completely identical. God the creator of all of earth, designed each one of us in our mother’s wombs to be one-of-a-kind.  God’s unending love imagined cultures, diversity, and beauty in a rainbow of colors. He gave each one of us our own unique identity and purpose.

Wilson Bentley was a young boy who also loved snowflakes. He would draw them, study them, and grew up to be the first person to ever photograph them, proving that each one was different. A few years ago I learned about Masaru Emoto, a Japanese scientist who attempted to prove water is alive. He took glasses of water and exposed them to different types of music. He then froze the water and looked at the icicle formations. Water that was exposed to classical, gentle music had beautiful formations, while the water that was exposed to heavy metal music showed deformed and ugly crystals. While the science is questionable, because he couldn’t repeat the results under a controlled environment, it does remind me about our walk with Jesus. Jesus introduced himself as the living water to the woman at the well. He said whoever drank of his water would never thirst again. If we have accepted Jesus’s gift of salvation and invited Him into our hearts, He lives inside of us. However, the world we live in is filled with ugly music, filled with selfishness, pride, evil, hatred, offensive, and anger. If we don’t constantly turn to the source of our living water, our hearts can become tainted, and the beauty of the God of Peace that should reflect through our words, actions, and thoughts, can cut and hurt others. Emoto believed praying over the water could heal it. We know as Christians we communicate and invite Jesus into our lives when we pray. We have the choice to change our focus from a world full of evil and challenges, to the love of Christ, who died to remove our sin and give us a life of abundant peace and joy.

When we recognize others for their unique beauty, when we respect the God given gifts they walk in, and love on each other we honor God in unity. Thinking of snowflakes, we still each have our own DNA, but when we function as a community and the bride of Christ our hearts melt and become one. We join Christ, the living water, sent to cleanse and beautify the earth by spreading the good news. This Christmas as we decorate with snowflakes, set up our manager sets, and love on our families and community, may we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, the one son of God who came to save us all. Let us move closer to becoming unified in God’s love and salvation. May we become one water through Christ

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I See You

 For over a year the words “I see you” have been echoing in my head whenever I pray. Since COVID there is so much judgement, assumptions, and anger that I feel like people have lost the ability to REALLY see each other. Lately, I have found myself quickly judging others actions as well. I had been praying to be able to see others as God does when I had a small stroke at the beginning of March. I was fortunate that it only affected my left eye leaving it paralyzed. I was still able to take care of myself, but I couldn’t drive and if I had both eyes open at the same time, I had double vision and everything I looked at was either on top of something else or blurry, a lot like looking through water. Images in the water are hard to see clearly, and items you reach for at the bottom of the lake or ocean aren’t always located the first time. I spilled a lot of beverages in the beginning and laughed at the number of times I grabbed at things and missed.

I have an amazing group of friends that took me shopping for food and gave me rides to doctor appointments. At home I wore a pirate like eye-patch, but when I was out, I just closed one eye when I needed to see something. I learned to adjust to the blurry vision, mainly so that I didn’t make others uncomfortable. It’s interesting to me the assumptions that I came across. I can’t tell you how many times men winked at me as I was leaving a restaurant, when I was just trying to make it to the door without running into someone or something.

As an intercessor I am used to praying for others who I don’t know very well. God has always given me insight as to how to pray, so I’m used to walking into a room of people who think of me as a stranger, unaware of how deeply I see them. However, when I lost my full sight all of this disappeared from my mind. I had moments of self-pity and times when I felt trapped unable to safely leave my house alone. There were a few people I asked to pray for me, but until I asked someone in person my memories of who I am as an intercessor and my history with God didn’t come to mind. I never doubted from the moment I lost my sight that God wouldn’t heal me and I know without a doubt that he did not cause my stroke. My experience of walking through storms with God has taught me that there are almost always lessons to be learned. The bible clearly states that God can turn every situation around for His glory. Storms or periods of difficulty are life changing movements. We can get angry and hold onto trauma, building walls that trap us for decades or we can ask God to give us a vision of where we need healing and open ourselves up to see all He would have us see. As people prayed for me, I asked God what He would have me learn. I want to move forward; I don’t ever want to be trapped in pain and anger. I welcome storms for the turning points they offer. If there aren’t any lessons, then by all means heal me right away, but don’t let me miss this opportunity for greater healing, so much more than just my sight.

As my sight slowly improved, so did my vision of who God created me to be. Moving objects like cars, trees, movies, and people were the last things to come back into view. One night I was watching a show and suddenly everything was clear, just like that. As I praised God, he reminded me of being baptized. Under the water, where things are blurry, it can symbolize how we see life without him. When we come up out of the water, there is a sudden clarity and fresh hope. We are fully seen by the one who created us and knows us to the core.

A Lifeguard's Perspective

I worked as a lifeguard and swim instructor all through high school and college, that’s how I paid my way.  I can tell you that when you need to save someone the safest and easiest way is from the side of the pool.  You have greater strength, a better perspective, and you are in control of the situation.  Once you get in the water you are fighting the elements, struggling for control over someone who is panicking, and you can’t see all that is happening from that point-of-view.  You see I have saved a few people from drowning.  I’ve been in the water fighting to secure them as the fought panic and struggled.  I was taught to grab onto anything that would get their attention and hold on for dear life until they realized they were being saved and they could relax.  I once had seven kids holding onto me as we bounced around the pool and accidentally found the slope to the deep end.  I can tell you when you are underwater and trying to hold all the kids above water you can’t tell which direction the shallow end is from the deep end and you have to trust someone else to help you.  My most successful and easiest saves where when I was on the deck and I could see someone struggling and reach out to them from the pool side or grab their inhaler and be at the side when the arrived ready to hand it to them.  You see perspective is everything. 

I’ve been listening to a variety of end of the year reviews and I’ve been struck by how 2016 has taken on a life of its own.  It’s been referred to like a person who has taken lives, started wars, broken up famous Hollywood couples, etc.  Let me tell you it is a moment in time.  We are responsible for our actions, our reactions, and our point-of-view.  To me it is a matter of where you stand.  You could be underwater, trying to figure out which way is up or down, and to safety or into deeper trouble.  Most people are bobbing in the water taking one wave at a time to the face.  There are a small few of us who are standing on the word and promises of God.  To the world this is often referred to as giving up my choices, but in reality it is the exact opposite.  God is all about free will.  Every choice I make determines where I choose to view my life from.  Let’s just say 2016 had a lot of ups and downs for my family.  Many worried that I would be in the water battling the waves.  That was clearly a choice, but I choose to be sitting on the pier dangling my feet in the water, understanding the reality of our situation.  I knew that God was standing beside me with a full view of the situation and trusting that he alone could change things around.  It was God that gave Jesus the power to calm the sea.  Jesus decided when to use that power.  I don’t know that we would have understood the power of the story if Jesus had immediately awoken and calmed the sea.  It is important to understand that Jesus was not mentally on the boat; his perspective was with the Father.  He wasn’t caught up in the panic of the moment, but calmly watching knowing the right time to come to the rescue so that the disciples would understand the important of your point-of-view and the power of our almighty God.

If your argument for not believing in God is that you want full credit for all your accomplishments, please know you have it.  But wouldn’t it be nice to sweeten the deal?  That’s what it means to follow Christ.  You still have the authority to make your own choices, but you don’t have to make them from the middle of a storm.  You could be sitting at a place of peace, surveying the situation and working out your alternatives with God the Father.  It doesn’t mean all your ugly circumstances will change; it just means you have a better view point, a stronger understanding of the situation and the ability to make wiser and often easier moves.  God is the sugar that makes the medicine go down, but the choice is always yours.

God Thirsts For Us

It is time to write again as God pours new meaning into old understandings.  Several years ago God called me to dance in the rain with the children of Red Lake, one of the first mass school shooting locations.  After over a month of His asking, I said yes.  What followed was an amazing time of fasting, prayer, healing, letting go, intense warfare, and final surrender to the one and only one who could bring me through many months of trail.  God worked through me and others to heal the land through forgiveness, and to save the souls of three lost children in only twenty minutes.  My worldly mind kept trying to balance the amount of prep time (trials) to the amount of healing.  By earthly standards I had expected more.  So one night during youth group God cleared the confusion.  While meditating on the prodigal son I asked God to show me what I needed to understand.  He had me open my eyes and look around at the 70 some kids that where hanging around on the floor; some of them were deep in prayer, but most of them where totally lost.  When I asked God what he wanted me to do his response was “love them like I do.”  Then for one brief moment I felt a love so strong my heart couldn’t stand it.  I gasped for air, unable to breath.  For just a second I felt how deeply God loves us.  It doesn’t even come close to comparing how we are able to love.  The next thing he said struck me to the core.  I heard “I would suffer an eternity for just one of them.”  That is how much God loves each and every one of us. It is a love so deep we can’t even comprehend it.

I have been reading the book Radical by David Platt lately.  He shares an interesting perspective about Jesus’ last request to God about not having to experience “the cup.”  He suggests “it is not a reference to the wooden cross but to divine judgment.  It is the cup of God’s wrath.”  It wasn’t the physical pain he was fearful of, it was the total rejection.  In that final sacrifice God cleansed himself of all disappointment and what was left was pure grace and love. The cup that Jesus took was not just the final sacrifice for our sins, but also he took on himself all of the disappointment God had felt.  What I felt in that moment was nothing but love.  Not an ounce of regret or disappointment.  What I experienced after that was an unexplainable love for everyone around me whether they hurt me, disappointed me or failed me.  I couldn’t help but feel anything but love.  In Lamentations God is very specific when it comes to sacrifices.  He understood the specific requirements that were needed to repair and cleanse the broken relationship between God and man.  He was the chemist perfecting the blood that was needed to foster a physical, emotional, and spiritual relationship with each and every one of us.  The living water inside of us purifies in a way nothing else can.  It is a constant source of hope, peace, joy, and love.  Jesus is the only way to that relationship.  Have you cried out today for the cure inside you?  It is your only hope.

Treading Water in Poison

It was the middle of winter when we headed out by bus for our weekend youth retreat.  We settled into our rooms, filled the shelf above the window with more sugar than a group of girls should have in a month, let alone two days.  We were introduced to Daren, an athlete, who told us about the women and children in Africa who walk miles everyday for polluted water to survive; then we started walking in their shoes.  Through the dark we walked back up the long snow and ice covered road to where we first pulled into the camp.  There we found water jugs, one for each of us.  We were to carry them back to the cabin and use that as our water throughout the weekend.  We brushed our teeth, washed our faces, and carried the water to the mess tent for all of our meals.  We learned more about the conditions in Africa and what people all over the United States were doing to raise funds for water filters and wells.  We prayed, we brainstormed, and we asked God to show us each our individual strengths and how we could use them to help this cause. 

I enjoy writing, several of the girls loved photography, and a couple knew how to start a blog, so that’s what we did.  I asked God for words to share and each post related to my faith walk and water.  By capturing my faith and struggles I hoped to encourage and share about God's love with the youth around me.  God blessed all of us that weekend and for several years through this blog by showing us how to serve others with the gifts he gave us.  At the end of the weekend, our jugs stored under our chairs, we worshiped and thanked God.  Then we were asked to pick up our jugs and look underneath them.  Almost every jug bared the name of a parasite commonly found in the polluted water.  We took turns raising our hands; discovering about each parasite and the damage that it caused, and in the end there were few survivors.

I wonder why women and children would work so hard to do something that is so detrimental to their health.  As I ponder it, I realized sometimes you just don’t have a choice.  Life can be a race, which is won only by participating and taking your chances.  We walk by faith that God is watching, listening, and hopefully clearing the path before us.  If you have read past blogs you know that I have overcome being crippled, a cancer threat, lost children, the death of numerous friends, and so many other challenges too numerous to list.  Each time God was lifting me up, walking beside me, clearing my path, and whispering hope into my ears.  Recently I have been traveling through a season where God was saying it’s time to step up your game.  Faith like a muscle requires constant exercise and pushing your limits; I was in a comfort zone of triumph and grace. For over a year now I’ve been trying to tread water in a cesspool of poison, because that’s what I needed to do to survive.  I’ve juggled issues with my ministry, my health, my family, my job, my finances, you name it life has been about as unstable as it could get in every area of my life. I’ve needed a life line, someone to walk along side me and pull me out.  (The theme music to Rocky comes to mind.)  God created us to give when we are overflowing and to receive when we are drained.  I am so thankful to the pastors, prayer warriors, and amazing youth around me that have poured into me sips of hope, truth, strength, wisdom, and love.

I am fortunate to be surrounded by so many who care for me, who have my back.  At this moment Daren, who shared so much with us about serving as we are called, is presently running across the United States again to raise funds to provide filters and wells for those living on polluted water.  Join me in praying for, donating, and spreading the word that we are all called to serve, however we can, from wherever we are, those who are in need.

http://www.rundarenrun.com

Worship by Living Water

When Jesus met with the lady at the well he offered her living water; endless water that refreshes and never leaves you thirsty.  It seems to me that if the bible is the living word, the bread of life, then worship is the wine, the blood of Christ, the awakening of the Holy Spirit that lives inside us when we accept Christ as our savior.  

I have been dwelling on the practice of worship and have achieved some clarity.  First, worship is between me and Jesus.  Worship needs to be authentic and sincere; in order to do that I need to block out all those around me and focus on Christ; expressing my love and appreciation for his gift of sacrifice that set me free.  

I often close my eyes and picture Jesus sitting under a tree in the garden.  I sing directly to him and no one else is around.  Each song speaks to my heart differently and I respond in kind.  Sometime I raise my hands because the song confirms in my heart that it is all about Jesus and I can’t help but acknowledge that it is not about me.  Songs with a strong beat tune into the beat of my heart and I can’t keep my hands still; the drummer in me creates a beat to match on the table, chair, or pew in front of me.  There are times when the day or week has been especially challenging and I find a wall and sit on the floor or a chair or couch and curl-up in the lap of Jesus like a child and just listen to the music and the words and I allow Jesus to soothe my soul.   There is one worship leader who plays a flute that opens up the Heavens.  I immediately picture myself as the branches of a weeping willow tree and I dance in the breeze created by Christ himself as the wind.  The freedom of this waltz pierces my heart and draws me into the arms of Christ.  There have also been times when I feel lost and the music acts like a rescue whistle and I listen intently trying to find my way back.  

Man does not live by bread alone.  May I encourage you to both read the word of God, the bread, but also to worship and take in the living water, the blood of Christ?  Accept the gift of salvation and rejoice and celebrate through worship.  Soak in the waters of his love, drink when you are weak and thirsty, cleanse yourself of the daily sins of life, and draw close to the only one who offers you living waters. 

The Well of Living Water

The well of living water exists in the empty places; I didn’t realize it till recently. For the past four years there has been a veil of doubt that covered my heart and I didn’t know. I witnessed God’s love for lost souls, but I didn’t realize the power of that love. I shared that I have cried over the soul of Jeffrey Weiss, but not all of you know his story. Jeffrey was a little boy when his father committed suicide. He was barely eleven when his mother was injured beyond healing in a car accident. He moved to an Indian reservation in Minnesota before he became a teenage; an orphan of sorts, full of pain. He was alienated, bullied, and alone. That pain turned inward and he became the bully. At sixteen he murdered his grandfather, his grandfather’s girlfriend, the school security guard, a teacher, and six students before he killed himself. I have cried for his soul in Hell because he was as much a victim of life as the lives he took. I have been angry with God for not saving his soul. I recently figured out I never asked. My faith was so blind to the power of God it never occurred to me he could be saved. While praying into this a little while ago I remembered that Jesus traveled into Hell once and I realized he could again. The scripture verse that says there is no place we can hide from God popped into my head. I asked God to save Jeffrey’s soul from Hell and I heard “done.” How often we are in the middle of a struggle and forget that the answer to our peace is just a few words away. The waters of life are endless, powerful, and always available for those who fully trust in God.

The Empty Places

I started a new study tonight, One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. I’m on page two when I’m faced with the holes that tear at my heart, the death of a child. I realize I’m destined to deal with this pain that I keep trying to hide, to run from. I have witnessed the burial of way too many children, victims of accidents, and violence, but it is the one who took his own life that still brings me to tears. I hear his cries in my sleep from the depths of Hell and I know he is the one soul I couldn’t save. I was too late. I am reminded of Rachel and how she peacefully floated away. I was unaware of her fight because she so joyfully let go. She was filled to completeness, at peace with her short time of existence. But Jeffrey screams silently of his pain; a pain that will never have a chance to heal. I pray for his soul. I pray that peace finds him. I share his story and tears fill my eyes and I choke back the pain. He is lost, forever burning in sin and sorrow and there is nothing I can do, he is out of reach. A homeless man pry’s at the meaning behind the tears. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to face the facts. He backs away, sensing that it is too painful to put to words. I scramble for an answer that will appease. He represents too many children who are in pain, who straddle a line between good and evil, who are both victims and killers waiting to take aim. He gently brushes back my hair and wipes my eyes, but he knows I am lying, running from the truth. The truth hurts too much. There is a soul in Hell that I can’t reach. A child who should have been saved, but was lost and swallowed up by the pain. That one soul constantly fills me with doubt. It shields me from God’s grace and leaves me wanting more; more answers, more grace, more peace, more joy. Yet, I feel empty from the loss.

The Gift of Tears

I appreciate those ha-ha moments when something finally makes sense. Life is like a great big puzzle and we are living one piece at a time. Some pieces just seem to hang out there forever while we study our lives, trying to figure out where they belong in the story. Well this Christmas a key piece to my puzzle fell into place. I have wondered for years how pain and tears became such a major part or my story. There was a Christmas movie I watched when I was young that had such a massive affect on my life that I haven’t been able to watch it again until this year. I actually found it a couple years ago in reprint. It has been in the drawer with the plastic on every since. When I see it I immediately get this feeling of dread and anguish, but all I can remember is that it was a sad movie. Well, I finally watched it this year.

The name of the movie is “The Littlest Angel.” It stars Johnny Whitaker, Jody from the television show “Family Affair” and Fred Gwynne as guardian angel Patience, more commonly known as Herman Munster. Michael, the Littlest Angel, dies unexpectedly and is shown the joy of Heaven by Patience. What I remember from my childhood was that it was the first time I was introduced to a child dying and leaving his parents. It took years to digest what that would feel like. I guess I should mention that on the Gallop scale of strengths empathy is my number one. For years I worked through how the boy would feel to suddenly be all alone without his parents. Then I thought about how parents feel when they loose a child. If I remember right I was somewhere between 8 and 10 years old at the time.

The first time I heard God’s voice I was twelve. I had been experiencing a number of deaths among my friends and I was mad at God for taking them. I understood how their parents felt to loose their children and how scared my friends were to be dead. God spoke to me and told me that He wanted me to help my friends let go and come to Him. As I connected to my friends in prayer I felt them let go, and glide into the arms of our savior. You see during those years of exploring the emotions of death I discovered how much God loves us. You see He knew the plan. He knew how much it would hurt to watch His child suffer and be tortured, then die. He knew what Jesus would experience, yet He loves us so much that He set the plan in motion anyway. As we celebrate Christmas I am reminded that along with the gift of salvation we also received the gift of tears. God knows our pain because He choose to suffer for us. I know God’s tears because I have shed them, but I also know His love.

So, to all the parents whose children have left this earth too soon: Alisha, Amy, Jeff, Nina, and Rachel, the children of Red Lake, Columbine, and Newtown God knows your pain, you are not alone. God weeps with all the parents as He holds your children tightly in His arms.

Rachal in the Wind

Rachal, your death perplexes me. I am no stranger to death. I said good-bye to more friends before my 20^th birthday then most say in a life-time. I have buried hundreds of friends and family over the years, but none have rocked me as much as your death. I want to know why. So, as you know I’m praying about it. What I know for certain is that you are up in Heaven right now enjoying a good glass of wine with Jesus and God and looking down at us all like dominoes and saying “you were using me to do all of that?” As I ask what is it about you that moves me I keep hearing “that you were the wind” and right now that is making sense. I know you would love this delving part, so I ask, “what is the wind like.”

There are some winds that gently blow up against things and people. You were like that. Even those who only worked with you for a month or so have been moved by your death and they don’t why. You touched them like the wind, gently, you moved them and they weren’t even aware.

There are some winds that physically move an object to a different place. You were like that. There are so many who not only found new meaning to their lives because of your perspective and wisdom, but those who made conscience choices to think and act in a different way because of your gently persuasion.

There are some winds however that move through people and objects; and to me that is who you are. Your spirit moved through me, not that I was always aware, but I now feel intertwined. I feel like God is reaching out to me with this lesson about how life is to change forever because of you. I am feeling led to see each and every relationship I make as one that touches all the way to the heart. I feel haunted by the depth of how much you touched me. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but I am learning to open up to it.

Lord I pray that a strain of what makes each person unique will twist with my heart strings and build a band of love that can overpower all evil and hatred. Lord, please use the spiritual winds of Rachal to bring a permanent change to this world. May love grow deeper, stronger, and more aggressively then ever before. May your will be done, and may we hear again Rachal’s sweet giggle in the wind, totally surprised and humbled by the change of events.

Standing in Still Waters

It’s time to get real and define what it means to be a Christian. There are too many people sitting in church missing the boat. Christianity is an action verb. You are a Christian if you are craving to know Christ and to be more like him. This means you are studying God’s word daily, looking for answers and clues to who God and Christ are. You are praying 24/7 listening and seeking the truth. You are becoming more dependent on Christ for all things, big and small. Here’s the big one…you are serving Christ in your home, work, school, church, and community, daily. The Holy Spirit is alive and well in you because you invite him to lead your life every morning, to fuel your heart, and focus your mind on Christ.

When you accepted Christ as your savior you acknowledged your sins and asked for forgiveness. God washed you clean with the blood of Christ and welcomed you with his loving grace. What have you done since? When you fill a pond with water it looks fresh and clean at first. If you don’t continue to filter and move the water it becomes stale and stagnate. It fills with all kinds of contaminants. Start moving the water in your life; pray, study, serve, and seek. Stop standing!

Send in the Fog

Surrounded by fog today I was reminded of those moments when I feel covered in God’s love.  I am able to worship with a group of friends who are hungry for God.  I read the word and God speaks, softly but clearly, into my every need.  He fills me with his light and shines through me to others.  These are the times when God is out in plain view for all to see, usually because I have opened my heart to him and invited him into my life.  I am focused on God and it is effortless.

However, there are other times when as much as I long for his comfort and support that I find myself in a desert.  I feel alone, surrounded by nothing but dry dirt.  I long for just an ounce of water, but I don’t know where to look.  Actually, I do know where to look; I just don’t find myself going there.  I need to be searching his word for direction and hope, but I am lost in the pain, the loneliness, holding onto the anger and fear.  I hold onto the hopelessness because reaching out for God feels like to much work.  I am angry that he doesn’t reach out for me.  He knows that is what I want, why won’t He save me?

For many the trinity is a very hard concept to grasp.  The easiest explanation I have ever heard defined in it terms of water.  God is the ice at the core of it all.  He is the foundation that the world was built on.  Jesus is the water.  He flows around us and through us.  He provides the living waters that sustain us and bring us life.  His blood has washed our sins away allowing a relationship with God that is pure and holy.  The spirit is the steam, fog, or vapor that fills the air.  It is all around us, at times more visible then others.  It is the spirit that is hard to hold onto.  When we are dry it is hardly visible; when we are full of God it can be seen everywhere we go. 

When we are deep in despair and we find ourselves in dry land we are not alone.  God is just beneath the surface, but it will take a bit of effort to bring Him to the top.  We need a shovel or pick to break through the layers of dirt we are holding onto.  It will be worth it, trust me.  Pick up a bible and let the words guide you through the dirt to the core of all life. 

Sometimes it is fire that has left us dry and separated from God.  That fire comes from Satan.  He uses our sins to walk into our lives and muddy the waters, drying our souls and leaving us thirst and lost.  The fire may seem uncontrollable, but it is not.  Water will always put out the fire.  It will put up a fight, but in the end it will hiss like a snake and fade away. 

The Winds of Change

It’s been a while since I have written on this blog.  God has been preparing my heart for a new season of change and I haven’t understood which way the winds were blowing enough to be able to put thoughts into words.  I often find that God speaks in puzzle pieces and I need to focus on each piece and on what God is saying before I get another piece.  It takes a while before the full picture is revealed.

I had been praying into what God wanted me to do on the mission trip to South Carolina that I attended July 23-31.  He kept taking me back to a mission trip two years before.  It was a few weeks after our trip to Red Lake Minnesota and our youth leader was walking us through a meditation on the Prodigal Son.  On the third time through God stopped me and said “open your eyes and look around.”  When I did I saw the room filled with kids, some leaning against the wall, some on their back looking up, some laying down with their heads covered, others holding onto to another with tears running down their faces.  God said, “These are my children.  I would do anything for them.  That is what I want you to do.”  In that moment, for just a blink of an eye, I felt the most intense love I have ever felt.  God’s love for his children was so deep, and so strong that I thought I would explode.  I still fall apart every time I think about it.  As I prayed for this trip I kept hearing God say “expand your definition of children.” 

While I prayed into this idea of children, God started challenging my view of family as well.  This came even more into play at the death of my aunt.  I have focused on my immediate family for a while and had lost track of my extended family.  God allowed me to walk back into their lives and the memories of my childhood with them bridged the gap of decades.  For the past two years I have been focusing on the high school youth group.  God has given me his heart for them.  He doesn’t share details, but he lets me know when I need to start praying for one of them and when they need an extra hand, even when it all appears fine on the outside.

Jesus said that unless we all become like children we would not enter the Kingdom of Heaven.  This has been interpreted many ways.  Some feel this means we are to be “reborn,” to turn away from our ways of sin and become new in Christ.  For others it means letting go of our control and putting our lives, in full trust and faith, in the hands of Christ.  I believe it also means to accept our position in God’s family.  We are being called to look beyond the boundaries of our immediate family.  To see God as the founder of all life, the almighty power on Heaven and Earth and to see him in the flesh as Christ our brother, bride groom, our heir to the throne means we are all related as children of God.  My calling to reach out to the children of God is changing from just the youth to all adults and children around me.  I am being called out to mend bridges with those I have walked away from.  God is challenging me to see strangers, friends, and enemies as family --his family.  I am being lead to do whatever it takes, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me, to reach out and heal relationships.

The bible tells us he will never give us more than we can chew.  It appears my cud is increasing.  My family has often joked and called me Mary Poppins, “perfect in every way.”  Not so true.  But at the moment, I’m feeling like I’m holding on tight to the end of an umbrella and the winds have just taken a sudden change of directions.  Caught up in a storm, I’m about to land at the thresh hold of the dysfunctional family of man and God is saying “fix this.”  It’s a good thing he’s in charge because I wouldn’t know where to begin!

Ode to Aunt Marian

Everyone has a “fun” relative, Aunt Marian was mine. She was married to my grandmother’s brother, Russell. I always felt like I had three sets of grandparents. They had five children, the two youngest were still living at home when I started spending weekends with my cousin Lisa, the oldest child of Aunt Marian‘s oldest son. Their daughter, Angela, would come home from MSU on weekends and have girl time with us. When we were young Aunt Marian always had toys on the side porch room for us to play with. She always made sure you picked up after yourself before you left and she always checked to make sure it passed inspection. In the summer when it was hot and we started getting on her nerves she would send us all out to the swimming hole. It was a pond in the woods, back through a field, with a rope swing. I know how much this dates me, but I know you wish you had been there too. Perhaps this is where my love of water originated from.

Aunt Marian was a lady, with a bit of farm mom attitude. She would curl and put up our hair like we were princesses. She always had every color of nail polish possible, and she insisted we walk tall with our heads up. She made sure we apologized for belching while watching television with the whole family, even when she knew it was either Uncle Steve or Dan, just because ladies don’t do that. She was the lady in the country that pierced ears with an ice cube and needle before ear piercings were cool. She had us help Uncle Russell in the garden so that we could get rides on his lap on the tractor when we were done. She would also send us out to Dan’s fort in the woods even though she knew it had snakes living it in, because we needed the exercise before dinner.

The family picnics were always at her house and she always had the best stuff going on in the kitchen. It was a big kitchen, long before they were popular. Ten people could easily cook in her kitchen. You would walk in and she would immediately put you to work, thanks to many hands it was always done on time. It was a traditional farm family. The women were inside cooking and all the men were outside around the barbeque. After the meal, and a short rest, everyone would take a walk through the fields. Uncle Russell always mowed a path and all the couples would walk hand-in-hand with us kids running up ahead. She was a bold lady, she spoke the truth in a direct and matter-of-fact way. She gave you some rope to run, but she was never afraid of yanking your chain. Lisa and I would spend hours at night talking in bed at the top of the stairs, until she told us to be quiet. Then all we could do is look at each other and giggle into our pillows. We longed for the time we were old enough to partake in the family card games. It seemed like twenty people fit around that kitchen table and the card games went on forever. I think that is where my love of family games comes from. There were jokes, friendly lessons, and “suggested” rules of behavior that went on around that table once you were old enough to join and you always knew you were loved.

My Aunt Marian was also a lady of God and she knew kids well. Uncle Russell and Aunt Marian attended a little, white, country church. She would dress us up, do our hair, tell us to listen and be quiet. Then she would give us each a little purse filled with cinnamon red candies, enough to make it through the service, and pennies to put in the offering. After the service Aunt Marian taught Sunday School and we were part of her class. I don’t remember the specific lessons now, part I do remember there was always an art project that made me think church was really fun.

She loved her kids, my Uncle Russell and all of her grandchildren. She took care of them like a mother hen, but she always believed in having fun. I learned a lot about relationships from her and how to play. The times I spent with her have impacted everyday of my life. My Aunt Marian died yesterday at the age of 92. She will be missed by all and we are so blessed to have had in her our lives.

It’s Crystal Clear

Sometimes the simplest lessons are the most basic. It’s not the elaborate plots that cause us to stop and admire God’s work, it’s those short, momentary glimpses of Heaven that bring us to our knees. I was reminded of this just a short while ago when our pastor shared his life changing moment with God. For a couple months we had sat in awe of his sudden passion for life and Christ, his clear crystal understanding of his purpose and the openness of his shortcomings and doubts. He had invited the Holy Spirit into his life and he was as bright as an LED bulb. The scene had been set for the big unveiling of this life changing moment. In total humility, tears falling from his eyes, he stood there and said “God loves me.” For a moment I was shocked, I was expecting more. But then I watched how this depth of love had wiped out all his pride, removed any thoughts or desires to control his life, and I realized the power of those three simple words. This pure form of love has reformed sinners, brought down giants, and created kings out of murders.

We are all created with this longing to be loved. It is a love that only God can fill, but rarely do we open ourselves up to experience that love. We are always so sure we can handle thing on our own, we are just fine, I’m ok, I’ve got it… Until we humble ourselves to feel God’s love, we haven’t a clue what real love is. It’s not a mental or emotional love or even a spiritual love. It’s like a piece of us that has always been missing, it goes right to our hearts and reminds us that even though we don’t deserve to be loved, we are loved by God in a pure and unconditional manner. Because there are no secrets that love fills every inch of us. Until you experience it you don’t realize how life sustaining those three simple words can be, “he loves me.” Even when you have experienced it, it is so easy to let it slip through your fingers like water. I wish we could hold onto that moment without any effort, but it takes strength, convictions, and focus not to let it get away. I think in some ways its too big to hold.

Like water, love doesn’t have a color, an odor, or a taste, it can be solid one moment and evaporate the next. Yet without either life doesn’t exist. God loves us regardless of what we have done or not done, how we have loved, acted, or obeyed. This unconditional love, this grace, is like water freely given yet so hard to hold onto. Our independent nature, our culture, and our pride are slippery like water, clouding our judgment and telling us that our goals align with God. Before we even know what is happening we are on our own again, taking our own path, and traveling further away. How do we prevent this from happening, is there any hope? Of course there is, he’s called Christ. Go back to that moment you first experienced God’s love, humble yourself because you know you don’t deserve it, and hold onto that need. It’s that weakness that reminds us to constantly turn to God, to not rely on our own understanding, but in all things turn to God for answers.

Lord, I sell you short way too often. I only turn to you when everything else I have tried fails. I want you to be proud of me, so I try to come up with the answer on my own, but that’s not what you want. You want me to recognize and grasp my weakness, because only then will I need you. In all things, big and small, may I say “let’s pray about it.” Lord, may you control my every thought and move. May I grow dependent on you every step of the way. Lord, speak and I will obey. May I never lose track of your grace and might. Your blessings surround me, may I be constantly aware of your love. Lord, I am a sinner unworthy of your love, but you love me just the same and it moves me to my knees in prayer.

Focus in the Fog

Have you ever noticed that when you are going through spiritual, emotional, or physical storms it is very easy to get confused in the fog?  It’s like everything is fighting for your attention and you can’t seem to figure out which direction to go.  Even those with a strong navigation system can get turned around in the fog by other influences.  If you’re driving it’s best to pull over and wait for the fog to pass, but that’s not recommended when you are on a journey towards Christ.  My instinct lately has been to you stand still and wait for it to end, but God clearly called me to stop waiting and to focus on him and move.

What does this look like?  It’s hard to say, remember I’m in the fog.  Sorry, a little fog humor there.  But seriously, it means in order to get out of the fog you really need to just focus on Christ and nothing else.  Anything that is distracting you from moving out of the fog, give it to Jesus.  So, if you are in physical pain and all you can think about is how much it hurts and how tired you are, pray.  Tell Jesus the pain is making it hard to hear and see his plans for you.  Ask him to take on the pain himself so that you can better serve him.  Then move on.   Know that Christ will remove that pain and that you are not meant to sit around and moan.  Start living because that’s what you were created for!

If you are surrounded by emotional drama may your eyes be like lasers focused on Christ.  Let the entire he said/she said fall to the sides and be who God created you to be.  I was reminded of a statement I made a few years ago about work this past week.  I actually wrote in print and turned into my superiors “I work for God.”  Yes, I have bosses at work, but if my focus is doing what God created me to do then everything falls into place.  If I’m all concerned about the drama and trying to please my bosses and figure out what they want I lose track of who my real boss is and everything gets messy.  If I instead turn to God while I work and ask for his direction I am serving the Kingdom using the gifts he gave me.  When that happens the people I serve are blessed and God blesses me as well.  It’s a win-win situation.

Our spiritual journeys for the most part take place in the storms, no getting out of this one.  If you are stepping out in faith you can expect plenty of storms.  The difference is when you are focused on Christ there is a lighthouse in the distance and the beam is focused on you.  You can be surrounded by rocks, flames, and lightening yet your path will be clear and safe because Christ is taking all that on himself so that you can walk peacefully through with God.  This is the hardest one to do because it requires a huge amount of trust and faith, but it is so worth it.  This is really what it’s all about.  We are in a training program when we turn to God.  The trials start out small and get bigger and bigger, so that we may slowly increase our trust and faith.  No matter the size of your struggle, if you believe in God, start trusting that faith today!

I love the visual God showed me this morning when I was praying (yes, in the shower).  I saw this horse pulling a buggy through the fog.  The horse had the side blinders on, so he wouldn’t get spooked and frightened.  I believe that is how we are to maneuver through the fog, with blinders on to block out all the distractions.  We are to focus straight ahead on Christ so that one day we will reach our destination.  May you have a memorable ride!

Walking in the Steps

I grew up in an interdenominational church, one my great grandfather helped build in the early 1900s. I was baptized as an infant, I gave my life to God when I was 12 and went through confirmation when I was in the nineth grade. I’ve always been blessed by the immersion baptisms at church, but I have never felt led to do it myself. Imagine my surprise when during the early Easter service I heard God say “you need to do this.” I started praying into it and asking why. I didn’t really get an answer, just a gentle push. The first service ended and I wasn’t convinced. I was in the prayer room for the second service. Between prayers I would ask God repeatedly “are you sure?”

It was a blessing to pray over all those who had asked for prayers and I was again surprised when we finished early and it was suggested we join the service at the end. I planned to stand in the back, but found myself heading to the front from the far side. I pulled into a seat near the front shaking and still asking why. When it seemed the service was about to end I found myself taking off my shoes and walking toward the front. I was met by an elder who took my hand and started leading me to the tub. As I passed my son I asked him to join me, for some reason I knew he needed to be there too. As we headed to the platform I was still confused. I believe in God, I know he is my redeemer, I know I am a sinner and I chose not to live without God, why did I need to do this? I start every day in the shower praying to be cleansed from my sin and committing to walking in Christ’s footsteps. (Hence the name of this blog) What was it that God wanted me to learn? It’s taken a week to figure it out and I’m glad I obeyed.

Leading up to the days before and after the crucifixion the disciples were also confused. Jesus had promised them a new kingdom, greater than any that had ever been known. He had been teaching them a new way of thinking and living. He had done miracles no one had seen before. Shirley he was the one they were waiting for. Then it all started to fall apart. Judas betrayed Christ, Peter denied knowing him, Thomas doubted, even Jesus asked does it have to be this way? Christ was taken away, beaten, humiliated, striped of his flesh and blood, mocked, and forced to carry his own cross. What happened to the promise? Had they been mislead, lied to? Was it all over? Suddenly, they found themselves in the middle of a storm.

Well, it appears that’s the way it works. There are seasons to following Christ. The first comes when we turn to him and believe in the promise. We have to take that first step to obey and trust. The second is the storms that come from that promise. You see God doesn’t want wimps following him, it’s serious business (not to be confused with strength, it‘s just not a leap you can only do half way). Sometimes we promise to do things for God and it is Satan that comes after us; throwing everything he can come up with to stop us from being obedient to God. Other times we believe in God, but we waffle in our trust. God uses the daily storms in our lives to help us to learn how much he loves us and to grow our trust and faith in him. When we believe and trust in him, when we know all the way to our souls that he is in us and with us, and nothing will shake that faith, he completes his promise. We have to be ready to receive the promise and sometimes that takes time.  Sometimes we have to have faith that what we ask may not be what is best for us.  We have to believe that God knows what that is and will see us through.

I was stilling discussing it with God all the way up the stairs, but when I got up there I made a commitment to see it through, God wanted me to do this and I said yes. I hiked up my dress and stepped into the tub. God doesn’t leave us during the trials, he is always there and he send others to help us out and walk along side us. I had to trust in those taking me down and bringing back up as I free fell back into the water. It could be my weight, but as I hit the water I was reminded of God parting the Red Sea for the Israelites. He always provides a way to his promise, some more spectacular than others, but there is always a way.

When I finally hit the water and I was ready to come back up, but that’s not how it works either. We have to go all the way under. You can’t make it through a trial if you’re not ready to go all the way through. I wonder how many times we walk into a trial then flounder there longer then we need to because we aren’t willing to experience or do what we are suppose to. We need to face our fears and work through them before we can get to the other side. Finally, after going all the way under, I came back up thanks to the pastor and my son. I felt like I had taken a step in the right direction and my family and friends where there to support me. I had done what God called me to do, but I still needed to reflect to figure out what God wanted me to learn.

I’m in the middle of many storms right now. I've been hanging out in the middle of some of these storms, not willing to experience the trials of taking those necessary steps.  I have been questioning whether God was with me or not. I now know he is. He hasn’t left my side.  In the last couple weeks I have stepped out and committed to my faith and my priorities at home and at work.  I know now that soon the storms will pass and things will be fixed and it will all be to his glory. If you are in a trial right now and you have put your trust in God, believe in that trust. The trials are there to bring you character and strength; you will need to accept the promise.

God loves us through all seasons. The seasons, like our weather repeat themselves and form a patterns. Once is never enough; with each promise will come new trials, and at the end of each storm there will be a rainbow!

“Don’t be afraid, I’ve redeemed you. I’ve called your name. You’re mine. When you’re in over your head, I’ll be there with you. When you’re in rough waters, you will not go down. When you’re between a rock and a hard place, it won’t be a dead end — Because I am God, your personal God, The Holy of Israel, your Savior. I paid a huge price for you: all of Egypt, with rich Cush and Seba thrown in! That’s how much you mean to me! That’s how much I love you! I’d sell off the whole world to get you back, trade the creation just for you.” Isaiah 43:1b-4 (The Message)