Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Asking and Receiving


"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1


My husband hung up the phone and glanced over at me.

"That was the call you've been praying for."

I blinked trying to remember what he was talking about, "What do you mean?" 

"It was the La Ventana Apartments, they just had an opening."

That single sentence popped through my brain like a firecracker. My lips parted in a grin as we hurried our two toddlers to the car. All I could think was...God, why are you so good?

...

You see, three months ago, my husband and I made a pretty significant transitional decision for our family. At the time we were currently living in a 4 bedroom, 2 bath, large and spacious brick home in one of Abilene, Tx's newest and most family friendly neighborhoods. And we lived there for free. Now before you start asking how does that even happen, let me just remind you if you don't already know that Phil and I have been host parents for international students for the last 3 years. We were blessed to lived in such a home because the organization that brings the students to Texas provided it for us. Needless to say we were comfortable. Finances, though not perfect, were reasonable and looking better each month. We were paying off school debt, we were enjoying the three high school boys we had living with us, and we were only a couple blocks away from our church. Our two kids, ages 1 and 2, though growing out of their small tiny room (which technically was a very large walk-in closet) were happy and content. We completely assumed we'd be living there for at least another year, with more students and our own growing family. 

However, somewhere around mid-march, one of us (I don't remember which) brought up the fact that we actually hadn't prayed about next year and what God's heart was for us. It is the most logical thing to do and yet neither of us had done it yet. So...we sat down that night and did it. As you can imagine God doesn't lead in the ways we expect. Ever. 

It became very clear over the next week, after much prayer, talking with our parents and with our community, that we weren't suppose to to keep hosting students, which therefore meant we wouldn't be living in our house anymore. (which by the way, the organization that owned the house had actually sold it but they didn't tell us till after we had made our decision. So we would have had to move anyway. Doesn't it blow your mind sometimes that God already knows things?)

Anyway, I can tell you all the logical reasons for this decision as well as all the illogical reasons, but none of that matters, because the point was God was calling us into a new season of faith. We were downsizing to an apartment, we were losing income and free housing, but most importantly we were focusing on just our family, our two kids and each other.

So began the search for a new place to live. It was the beginning of April and we only had two months before we had to move out at the end of May. We were thinking we wanted an apartment but we were also open to a rent house and we needed to live within 5 minutes of ACU if at all possible because of Phil's job. Our budget was tight and though it seemed like a small picky thing, we really wanted an apartment with a washer and dryer. (when you use cloth diapers with your kiddos, laundry is a daily thing, not to mention how many pairs of clothing they both go through in a day)

Surprisingly it didn't take us long to find the perfect apartment. It was directly across the highway from our current neighborhood, it was within our price range, within the right distance from ACU, right next to our church still and it had a washer and dryer. It was kind of unreal how perfect.

But, the waiting list had at least 50+ people on it and all the apartments were leased out for the year. I couldn't believe when Phil told me the news. I remember telling him, "We are suppose to live in that apartment. I just know. It's too perfect."

He just shook his head. Obviously we knew there was nothing either of us could do. We moved on to continue the house search, but I started praying, because deep down inside I knew that was the place we were suppose to move to in May. I knew that La Ventana Apartments was our new home.

I've never been one of those name it and claim it type of people, they sometimes annoy me in all honesty, but I have asked God for more opportunities to grow in faith in the past year. And He normally takes you up on your word when you ask for such things. And I felt compelled to ask for this one. I could hear the still quiet voice in my heart, "This is yours, all you have to do is ask."

The apartment complex is right off the highway into town from our neighborhood, so I would drive by it every day. And every time I would pray and ask for divine intervention, even sometimes go so far as to turn into the apartment complex, drive through it.

A month went by and I kept at, much to my husband's growing annoyance. He was afraid I was getting my hopes raised, only to be disappointed. We laugh at this now.

One morning in the middle of the week we were looking at a house to possibly rent. It was very close to ACU, much too large for us and quite far above our budget, but we were considering it, thinking through any way we could afford it and ways we could possibly make it work. I felt slightly despondent. I had lost count of how many apartments and houses we had looked at, how many phone calls I had made and how many different ways we were trying to figure out our finances. Everything had both good and bad qualities and in every place these qualities differed from the one before. It felt like we were always trying to decide between the lesser of two evils.

I had begun to give up on the La Ventana apartments. My prayers were less frequent, my thoughts towards it no longer as hopeful. I wasn't even thinking about it when Phil's phone rang. We were almost finished looking at the house. I honestly had no idea what he was talking about when he said the words, "That was the call you've been praying for."

It all happened so quickly. Apparently someone had to drop out of their lease last minute. Who knew? The apartment manager had called everyone on the waiting list and was telling us all that who ever brought a deposit first would get the apartment. We were literally two minutes away. Within an hour we had put down a deposit and signed the lease.

Perhaps, to some reading this, it doesn't seem that big of deal. A crazy coincidence. Simply luck. Or some may, sheesh, it's just an apartment, don't be so dramatic. But I say, God cares for His children. He cares about our desires and our prayers. And though He is not some magic genie in the sky handing out favors at the drop of a hat and though so many times He does not give us what we want or ask for...sometimes He does. And in those moments, no matter the simplicity or complexity of the request, His goodness can be overwhelming. I immediately wondered the question: why me? Why would You listen to anything I ask for? But never the less, thank you, thank you, thank you!

That's all I could think of for days afterwards. Now, every time I would drive by the apartment complex I would spend the entire 10 seconds thanking God for His provision and for His goodness. And you know what, we love our apartment. We've been living here a month now and have enjoyed every minute of it. From the wood floors, to the granite countertops, to the low rent price and the in-house washer and dryer. It's even on the first floor, whichever for anyone who has small children learning to walk you know is completely necessary. Oh, and did I mention it has a two playgrounds for the kids, a pool (with a kiddie pool attached), a community room for our lifegroup and 24/7 exercise room? Not to mention the entire place is well landscaped, the apartment manager goes to our church and the apartments themselves are just at the edge of the city. I can smell cow manure from the pasture besides us, which I know sounds weird, but makes me feel right at home, since I grew up in the country. Its the small things that God cares about.

I'm not sure if God has something more than just answering a prayer for us living here in this apartment. Maybe we could lead some future revivalist to Christ here or maybe we will create a deep, genuine community of people among the other residents or maybe...it was just lesson in faith, of asking and receiving, of sowing faith and reaping a harvest of favor. I don't know much about the future or what God's will is all time, but I know that He is a good father, who gives good gifts to children and delights in bringing them pleasure. And I am thankful I am His child and grateful for the favor He gives. It a good season to trust His faithfulness and to be reminded that He cares about what we care about often, because He is our creator.

"Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble." - Matthew 6:25-34                                       

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Jesus.


( I began writing something last summer that I remembered today. I decided to finish it, realizing how timely it was because of a song that God has brought into my life this week. I just wanted to imagine what is would be like if I put myself in the time, in that place, in Jerusalem, near Jesus. What would I do? I'm not sure this is a completely accurate portrayal of what I would be like...I might actually have run the other way instead of towards the cross. But know this spoke to me, even as I wrote it. I wanted to post the words to the song (that is the chorus of the song) too before what I actually wrote.)


May I never lose wonder, the wonder of Cross. May I see it like the first time, standing as a sinner lost. Under thy mercy I'm left speechless, watching wide-eyed at the cost. May I never lose the wonder, the wonder of the Cross. (vicky beeching)


Jesus

It was blood I found first. The streets were deserted, filthy with trash from the angry mob that had passed before me. The stones were smeared with a dark long stain. I knelt, one finger to the street, brushing the still-wet substance. My finger came away a deep red.

I closed my eyes, a terrible pressure tightening my chest, bearing down in a pain that threatened to explode. Full of dread, I rose, following the trail of blood; tears involuntarily dripping down my cheeks. Why were they doing this too him? Why?

I spotted a beggar on the street, hands outstretched. I rushed to him, grateful for someone, anyone to tell me the truth...truth I did not want to hear, but was desperate for none the less.

“What has happened? Where all the people, where is Jesus?”

I nearly shouted at him, the poor man. He cowered and pointed one claw-like hand towards his left. “To Golgotha, my lady. They mean to crucify him.”

I stepped back as if slammed into an iron wall.

No!“How long ago?” I managed to ask in a voice weak and lifeless.

“Only just. The crowd was here two minutes ago.”A small measure of hope pierced my mind.

Perhaps I could reach him in time. I thrust a gold shekel into the ragged man’s hands and took off in a sprint down the cluttered thoroughfare. His cries of gratitude fade amidst the pounding of my own heart.

I didn’t hear the crowd until two hundred yards later. My breath was ragged and lungs bursting, but I pressed on, beginning to pass scattered groups of people.They stared, no doubt surprised to a see a young woman running through the market streets. I ignored them, as the crowd’s roar began to heighten. I reached the first fringes, just as they neared the gates to the city.

“Let me through!” I screamed, weaving through the growing mob.Someone tried to shove me over, but I kept my feet and ducked through four porticoes and slipped through the gate.

Horrendous shouts, the foul stench of unwashed bodies and animal dung filled the air, mingled with dust and sweat.

“Please, I must get through!” I pleaded, pushing now in a frenzy.

I fell to my knees once, the stones scraped through the fine linen of my tunic. It stung violently, but I took no notice, nearly crawling. I found a way to the nearest building and pulled myself up. I pressed forward once more.

The crowd’s faces were full of hideous expectation, as though some spectacular play was about to flash before their eyes. My face no doubt was stricken with grief. I felt dizzy, my vision blurred. Was there anyone who cared?

I was nearly to the outer gate now, the momentum of the crowd was beginning to carry me along with it. The crack of the bullwhip was the first hint that I was drawing close. I knew he had already been beaten. I had seen crucifixions before. I knew what they were doing.My tears had calmed. I knew only one thing. I must see Jesus.

More pushing and pleading and almost near shoving got me fifty feet closer. I could see wooden beams being carried above the crowd’s heads. I covered my mouth to stifle a gasp and rushed headlong into the remaining crowd, until the men carrying the beams came into sight.

Jesus was not there. Hope lashed out with its bitter gust as I suddenly clung to the thought that his sentence had been reversed. But then I saw him, struggling behind the first cross beam, which was being borne by another man.

Someone was carrying his cross!

I swallowed tears of gratitude at the youth, who’s face was pouring with blood. Apparently he had been struck across the forehead. Then I turned my eyes on Jesus.It was the most ghastly of sights. I began to cry once more as I pressed closer, trying to get in step beside him.

His skin was covered in blood, his clothes hung in tatters, sticking to the open gashes and wounds gaping across his back and arms. I covered my mouth in horror as I realized pieces of skin were hanging from his tunic.

His face was still turned away. I knew it must be a horrific sight as well. Floggings disfigured and crippled men for life.

“Jesus...” I whispered, now within ten feet of his labored journey.

His head, glistening with blood, and painfully crowned with a mocking wreath of jagged thorns, turned towards me.

I sobbed in intense anguish as his one good eye, amidst a mangled mass of bloodied flesh stared back at me. The other eye, I saw was swollen shut, a purple lump.

“Jesus.” I breathed, gazing into his eye.

His brutalized appearance vanished as that one eye fixated itself on me. He consumed all other thoughts.It was as if I was being transported back to that time when I first saw him on the temple steps. He’d consumed everything then as well. Every thought, every breath, every movement.

“Jesus...” my voice came out as a pitiful whimper.

I once again saw my life flash before my eyes. Every little detail with startling clarity, yet through it all overwhelming love consumed my being. Like that day on the lake it knocked me to my knees. I wanted to die. If they killed him, I knew my life was over. I could not live without him.

His eyes didn’t leave mine. I saw the pain, the anguish, the weight of a thousands lives, but I saw something else...determination. He was going to see this through, til the end. His last words to me the morning before echoed in my grief ravaged mind.

...I must follow my Father’s will...

I didn’t like this Father he talked about. This powerful being who was making Jesus do such a horrifying thing. I wanted to scream at someone. Anyone. Only a stifled gasp poured from my lips.

“Get up,” said Jesus, in a garbled voice,” This is not the end.”

My eyes gazed at his mutilated face, unable to stand up.

“Get up,” he repeated, and then struggled past me as the soldiers shoved him on.Without knowing how I found myself rising and following, with less urgency than before, but with the same passionate force. In twenty minutes we were outside the city. Numbness had settled around me. I wanted to flee, to escape, yet I wanted to stay. I must stay.

The crosses were being raised on the hill by the time I reached Jesus once more. His screams were the only screams I heard as the nails went through hands and feet of the sentenced men. I was weeping now, beyond control.I stopped within twenty feet, near the edge of the hill, as the cross was raised. All I could see was the blood on his shaking body. I wondered how much more he had left. His eyes met mine once more, even as he shook in agony. I wanted to run again, but I had already fallen to my knees. I would not leave until he breathed his last.

“Why?” I moaned over and over again.Staring into his face, the answer slammed into my chest with a weight heavier than darkness.

...It is for you...

“No!” I screamed,” NO!”I tore my eyes away, unable to look at him any more and covered my face in shame.

Cold dread ripped into me, yet even as it did, warmth flooded my body.

...I love you this much...

The shame faded, receded like the tide going back to the sea.

...you are worth it...

And then I wept for joy. I wanted to stop myself, but couldn’t. Jesus wouldn’t let me

Thursday, August 14, 2008

An excerpt from Red Moon Rising...

(from an amazing book I'm reading right now!)


So this guy comes up to me and says,” What’s the vision? What’s the big idea?” I open my mouth and words come out like this...


The vision?
The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.
The vision is an army of young people. You see bones? I see an army.
And they are FREE from materialism.
They laugh at 9-5 prisons.
They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday.
They wouldn’t even notice.
They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the West was won.
They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations. They need no passport. People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence.
They are free yet they are slaves the hurting and dirty and dying.

What is the vision?

The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes. It makes children laugh and adults angry. It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars. It scorns the good and strains for the best. It is dangerously pure. Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation. It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games.
This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause.
A million times a day its soldiers
choose to lose
that they might one day win
the great “Well done,” of faithful sons and daughters.
Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night.
They don’t need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards
and hear the crowds chanting again and again:” COME ON!”
And this is the sound of the underground
The whisper of history in the making
Foundations shaking
Revolutionaries dreaming once again
Mystery is scheming in whispers
Conspiracy is breathing...
This is the sound of the underground
And the army is discipl(in)ed.
Young people who beat their bodies into submission.
Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms.
The tattoo on their back boasts,” For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”
Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes.
Winners.
Martyrs.
Who can stop them?
Can hormones hold them back?
Can failure succeed?
Can fear scare them or death kill them?
And the generation prays
like a dying man
with groans beyond talking
with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and
with great barrow loads of laughter!
Waiting. Watching: 24-7-365
Whatever it takes they will give;
Breaking the rules
Shaking mediocrity from its cozy little hide.
Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs,
Laughing at labels, fasting essentials.
The advertisers cannot mold them.
Hollywood cannot hold them.
Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties
Before the cockerel cries
They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive inside.
On the outside? They hardly care.
They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide.
Would they surrender their image or their popularity?
They would lay down their very lives – swap seats with the man on death row – guilty as hell.
A throne for an electric chair.
With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days, they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.
Their DNA chooses JESUS (He breathes out, they breathe in.)
Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus.
Their words make demons scream in shopping centers.
Don’t you hear them coming?
Herald the weirdos!
Summon the losers and the freaks.
Here comes the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes.
They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension.
Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.
And this vision will be. It will come to pass; it will come easily; it will come soon.
How do I know? Because this is the longing of creation itself, the groaning of the Spirit, the very dream of God.
My tomorrow is his today.
My distant hope is his 3-D.
And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous resounding, bone-shaking great “Amen!” from countless angels, from heroes of the faith, from Christ himself. And He is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.
Guaranteed.

(Red Moon Rising by Peter Greig)

Sunday, July 27, 2008

No Rest

...another song I wrote this year.

No REST
My soul is ravished by Your thoughts
My heart cannot find its rest
You said to wait up on Your time
I'll wait until You show Your face

You've stolen my heart
Therefore I have no peace
I'm torn apart
It hurts just to speak

You have ripped my world apart
I cannot breath without You
Every love I've had
Is nothing compared to You

You won't relent
I cannot escape this time
Shake my life
There is no better love

Shake my life
Won't You break my life
Give me no rest
I cannot live without Your love.


[written by Natasha Fowler, April 08]

Monday, July 14, 2008

You are always good...


Where You go, I go
What You say, I say, God
And What You pray, I pray

Where You go, I go
What You say I say, God
And What You pray,I pray

Cause Jesus only did
What He saw You do
He would only say
What He heard You speak
And He would only move
When He felt You leave
Following Your heart
Following Your Spirit

So how can I expect to walk without You
When every move that Jesus made was in surrender
I will not begin to live withou You
For You alone are worthy
You are always good

Where You go, I go
What You say, I say, God
And What You pray, I pray

Where You go, I go
What You say, I say, God
And What You pray, I pray

The world sees and still forgets
We will not forget who You are
And what You have done for us
What You have done for us

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

...a love song.



Will You?

Will You stay forever?
Will you be my lover?
Will You walk next to me?
Gently like a brother.
Will Your gaze be at me?
Will you love no other?
Will You see yourself in me?
Let me be your father.

For you are My child
For you are My bride
For you are My child
you are My bride

Will You say I'm beautiful?
Will you be my daughter?
Will You always hold me?
Softly like a mother.
Will You dance this song with me?
Will you wait forever?
Will You melt my heart in love?
Let Me be your warrior.

For you are My child.
For you are My bride.
For you are My child.
you are My bride.

Say I'm lovely...
...you are worthy.
Say I'm perfect...
...you are holy.
Say You want me...
...I have made you.

Will You say I'm lovely?
I will say your worthy.

Written by Natasha Fowler, March 2008.