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                                       

Just let her jump

"Just let her jump."

We were strolling through the gardens of the Chateau de Chantilly and it was our last day in France. My husband said those words after I had repeatedly voiced my concern over the state of my two-year-old daughter's leggings and dress as mud and cold water splashed above her rubber boots. There seem to be a puddle on the garden path every five feet. I stared in frustration as she let out a giggle and jumped both feet first into the next one. I sighed, staring past her towards the picturesque scene behind us. A 14th century home of a French noble family; stone walls, graceful architecture and elegant gates. It was too beautiful to be irritated, yet there I was, wrinkles across my forehead and my lips crooked into a frown as Isabelle splashed into yet another puddle. 

I feel like I spend half my time as a mother cleaning up spills and accidents and rubbing stains out of clothes. Its even worse when you are on a three week trip to Europe with two toddlers. In my defense I was trying to avoid as much mess as possible. But I somehow failed to see the green grass and blue sky and most of all the wonder in my daughter's eyes. She wasn't worried about her clothes or cold water or my feelings on the matter. All she knew was she was free. No one was strapping her into a carseat or holding tightly to her hand or telling her to sit still. She was simply being a child, in all the the glory and wonder of it all. 

As we meandered deeper through the gardens, leaving the chateau behind, I was reminded quite vividly how easily it is to forget beauty amidst worry. I was letting my importance on appearance and comfort take over the deeper meanings of life. We had just spent an entire hour touring one of the most beautiful, historic buildings I've ever visited and within minutes of walking out the exit doors I was worried about minor inconveniences. I forgot the pleasure of my child's heart and focused on the selfishness of my own. Too many times I fixate on everything out of place instead of seeing the depth of richness right below the surface of chaos. As I passed the broken bridges and overgrown statues amongst the garden paths, remnants of the french past, I could hear Isabelle's laughter echoing the trees. She was surrounded by beauty and that was all she saw. Would that I had eyes to see that more often. Would that we all. 

And so she kept jumping, from puddle to puddle, trekking through the mud, her curls askew and her cheeks ruddy red. 

Children are a blessing

I spend every day, every moment with my two little bundles of joy. I change diapers every hour, read books every 30 min, I sing Pooh Bear theme songs before breakfast and after lunch, I nurse constantly, I soothe tears, kisses bruises, wipe dirty noses and doctor rashes; I spend every waking moment and even the sleeping hours thinking and mothering. Some people might say that's exhausting, don't you ever want a break? Its never exhausting and the times I do get out for some free time, I'm always missing them within an hour and can't wait to get back home to them. I can't imagine life without them both. I love being home all day. I love cooking, doing laundry, cleaning, writing (yes I get writing done here and there) and working on DIY projects, like making homeade hand soap. (shout out here to Young Living Essential Oils) I love doing all of this. Its restful, peaceful and so rewarding. And when I think of the fruit of what will bring it is so fully rich of blessing. These two lives that depend so solely on my care  right now could one day impact that world. Instead of overwhelming me, it is humbling. Nurturing the life of human being from the day they are created is beyond the best job and career in life. It has so much farther reaching results than any other career or position in life I can think of.

Every day I treasure because I know these days go fast. Children grow exponentially and these little moments of sweet sighs, little voices and pattering feet don't last forever. I watch as they learn new things every day from first smiles to first sentences. Its likes watching creation being spoken into being. There is glory and peace all wrapped into timeless moments. The blessing of children dictates the atmosphere in a home. Like the first spoken word that was breathed from God's lips, the lives and spirits of children breathe life and a creation of joy within a home. I know this is the fruit of months of prayer and setting our hearts as parents in the right place of receiving them as blessings and speaking the truth of who they are in Christ over them. (I mean literally speaking out verbally the truths of who they are)

People always marvel at the happiness and ease with which both my kids interact with the world. I can't attribute it to good parenting, because I feel like a fail at things every day. It has everything to do with speaking life and not death, refusing to speak the curses of low expectations and stereotypes of them, and instead proclaiming what God has destined them to be. People keep saying: "Well, just wait til she gets a little older or until he starts crawling." She got older folks and its not anywhere close to all your nay-saying. She has a sin nature, not doubt about that, but its not like this big shock. When we work through temper-tantrums or impatience or frustration I never feel like it is wearing me out, mostly because it happens so infrequently. He's not crawling yet of course, but he has been sleeping through the nights since 4 weeks. I honestly don't know how that happened, except that God has surrounded that child with a peace that surpasses all understanding. And I am telling you that comes out of the place of prayer and placing our children in surrender to the Lord's leadership and care. I am seriously selfish and imperfect as a parent and to be blessed with children who are so patient and so easy, seems beyond what I deserve. I keep waiting for something to get hard, something to get seriously challenging, but it only gets better. I don't understand how or why, except that the Lord is good and His mercy endures forever. His promise that children are a blessing is literal and He eagerly and graciously gives when we ask to receive that promise.

I am so thankful and pray that my heart can expand to hold and faithfully care for the good that He gives.

Isabelle Noelle, March 2014

Benjamin Titus, March 2014

Decorating the Tree Photoshoot

Our son is coming!

In 6 short weeks (give or take a few days) we will be welcoming our second child, Benjamin Titus into the world. Times flies, faster than you can blink, literally. It seems like just yesterday I was walking down the aisle to say my vows, and now I'm a mother to two. As the Christmas season speeds into view, welcomed by a blustery ice storm and a three day weekend of cozy time with my family of three, it seems that life couldn't get much better. Between Christmas shopping (aka amazon.com), decorating, crafting, cooking and parenting a 1-year-old whirlwind of energy and excitement, life is full and overflowing with joy and thanksgiving. When our son arrives, it will only cap an already beautiful season of abundance.

We look forward to holding him in our arms and getting to be parents once more to a second blessing from God.

I am here now.

"Therefore, behold, I will allure her, bring her into the wilderness and speak kindly to her. Then I will give her her vineyards from there, and the valley of Achor as a door of hope. And she will sing there as in the days of her youth, as in the day when she came up from the land of Egypt. It will come about in that day,' delcares the Lord,' that you will call Me Ishi and will no longer call Me Baali. For I will removed the names of the Baals from her mouth, so that they will be mentioned by their names no more. In that day I will also make a covenant for them, with the beasts of the field, the birds of the sky and the creeping things of the ground. And I will abolish the bow, the sword and war from the land, and will make them lie down in safety. I will betroth you to Me forever; Yes, I will betroth you to Me in righteousness and justice, in lovingkindness and in compassion, and I will betroth you to Me in faithfullness. Then you will know the Lord. It will come about in that day that I will respond,' delcares the Lord,' I will respond to the earth, and the earth will respond to the grain, to the new wine and to the oil, and they will respond to Jezreel. I will sow her for Myself in the land. I will also have compassion on her who had not obtain compassion. And I will say to those who were not My people, you are My people! And they will say 'You are my God!" ~ Hosea 2 ~

I approached the tent with heart full of numb desire. I had nothing to offer, nothing to give him. I did not want him. It had been weeks since I had been with him alone. In my mind I understood, that this, even this, even my apathy towards him, my coldness, would not diminish his desire for me. In my heart I felt a thousand miles away from this truth. I could not love him. Yet he loved me with an unbreakable steadfastness.

I stopped two feet from the tent. The night shadows flickered from the torches burning around this dwelling place. I smelled the sweet aroma of his presence drifting from inside. It did not entice me like it once had. It did not draw me to him. I wanted to run. I wanted to run back to garden he made for me. I wanted to run back to his gifts and his treasures and the wealth of his kingdom that he lavished with great generosity over me.

I loved that garden. It was satisfying. I understood, in my mind, this was because it all was from him. It is was meant to draw me to him. In my heart however, I only wanted to stay in the garden. It was just too full of pleasure to leave.

Yet, inside I was still empty. I did not feel empty. However, I knew I was, because I had not see him.

That was only reason my feet had taken me here. It was a choice, not a feeling. My trembling hand reached out to pull back the tent curtain. It was time to be with him again. It was time to let him fill me with satisfaction. I did not want it, but my will was dragging my reluctant feet forward.

I slipped inside, taking a deep breath. My head was screaming a thousands fears, my heart continued to beat evenly, numbly, without feeling. I saw him before he saw me, standing near his couch holding a book open in his strong hands. The candlelight gleamed off of his golden hair. I swallowed, suddenly awkward and frightened. I should turn and leave, now, before he saw me.

It was too late, he turned, fixing those burning blue eyes on my face. The book slipped from his hands as a smile brushed his lips. Then I was in his arms.

" I knew you would come," he whispered, kissing me softly. I weakly responded, unable to resist him, but still not wanting him like he wanted me.

" I'm sorry," I whispered back, trembling arms slowly entwining around his strong body.

He chuckled against my neck, and then pulled back to gaze into my face. I could see myself in

his eyes, and hated the relfection. I was not a the bride he deserved, or needed, or should want. I did not love him.

" Don't look at me like that, my love," he said against my lips," I don't care how long it has been, or how you feel or what you've done. I will never stop loving you."

I did the unthinkable and angrily shoved him away. Hurt clouded every radiant aspect of his beautiful face.

"Darling..."

My hand covered his lips and my words fell out of my mouth like a rushing torrent," Why did you give me everything? Why is everything so pleasant without you? Why can I not love you now? Why do I not want you? Tell me...you know everything, nothing is hidden from your eyes. Why give me the very things that turn my heart away from you? Was it not better when I had nothing? Was it not better in the desert when it was only you and me? Where have all my desires..."

I broke into bitter weeping unable to continue, and dropped my eyes from his. I immediately felt his hands cradling my face.

"Beloved, I don't want your love just in the desert. I want it at all times. I want it when you feel it and need it and when you don't. I want it when you have nothing and when you have everything. There are deeper places we have yet to go. Everything I have given you is to take you to those places. Open your eyes...look at me."

I slowly and stubbornly did. His eyes burned like fire into my soul.

"Listen to my words..." he kissed my lips,"...every time you let the music you hear calm your spirit and stir your heart, it's because it's drawing you to my peace and passion. Everytime your imagination and courage is inspired by a story you hear or see, it is because I am showing you pieces of my heart. Every time your friends make your heart glad and free, it is because I am showing you the freedom of my presence."

I sucked in a breath, feeling a tightening my chest for the first time since walking in the tent. He had not mentioned the deepest part yet...

I waited.

He picked me up softly and carried me to his couch. I closed my eyes against his chest. I could feel the pressure, the expectation, the waiting....

He sat us both down, nestling me in his lap.

"Beloved..." his lips brushed my cheek, arms tightened around me with possessive strength.

"Every time he holds you, kisses you and speaks love to you, it is all coming from me. I want you to know how you've captured my heart. When you are heart pounds with desire for him, it is because it is desiring me. When you long for him surround you with safety, it is because you are longing for my safety. When you heart is screaming for his kisses and his touches, it is because you want my touch. When you dream of him at night holding you forever, it is because you want me to hold you forever."

I broke into sobs as he ended these words. They were all true.

"He is becoming everything to me. He is satisfying," I choked out.

"That is because I am everything," he whispered," I am satisfying."

I buried my face into his neck and my heart exploded with a thousand emotions. I was in my king's arms again. He was holding me. Wanting me.

"What do I do," I whispered against his lips.

"Enjoy me, come to me, let me show you my heart in this," the thick aroma of his presence and smell, consumed the room. He was drawing my heart again.

"I'm here now," I said weakly.

"And so I will love you..." his lips overwhelmed mine.

He spoke kindly to Her...

This is something I started writing the beginning of this semester. The woman in the story is the Church, the man is Jesus. The unborn baby represents the generations to come. Read it from that viewpoint...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The young woman stared at him angrily, with blue eyes that could have scorched a cornfield. He was taken back by her hostility, distrust yes, but not this.

He took a step farther back, kneeling on one knee, as she curled into a tighter protective ball around her swollen belly.

"I promise I won't hurt you, or the baby," he told her softly.

She began crying again, obviously unable to believe his kindness or so overcome by it she couldn't speak. He waited patiently, until her eyes turned towards his again. They were still hostile, but not quite has distrustful as before.

"What happened?" he asked, continuing to be patient.

She slowly sat up, painfully, as if every bone in her body was aching. Bruises covered her cheekbones, and a huge cut marred the right side of her neck. With great effort she began to speak.

" I have no mother, I have no father. The child I bear is not even my husband's. I have no husband. I have no home. I have nothing to call my own. Everything I have has been given to me or taken away by others. Why do you even care to ask me? Can you not see what I am?"

The young man's heart was torn by the despair and absolute finality he felt in her voice. What was even worse was the belief he heard in her words.

Suddenly she doubled over, throwing up all over the ground between them. His first reaction would have been one of disgust, but immediately his vision blurred in a cloud of color. Handwritten words the color of blood on an ancient pages burst before his eyes.

He blinked, trying to see, but they would not leave until he read them.

You will love me.

You will love what I love. Hate what I hate. Speak what I speak. Sing what I sing.

You will love my bride.

As soon as he finished reading the last line, the words and colors vanished and he was staring at the young woman once more.

The young man felt his heart melt. He wanted to bury his head in the dust and beg this woman's forgiveness for all the injustice that had been done to her, for all the lies, bitterness and hatred that had been brought against her with the fierceness of a thousand vengeful dragons. If he could bleed, cry and scream for her, he would.

Instead he bent closer once more," I know you have no reason to trust me, but what if I was your only hope? I cannot be worse than what you have known. What if I have the answer? Can you be willing to risk that?"

She blinked, staring wide-eyed without expression, yet the mistrust had faded from her gaze.

"It may take a while, I know," he continued," but I must tell you that this is not who you are."

"Who are you to tell me such a thing?" she told him, voice sharp and cynical," You don't know me."

Now it was his turn to blink," I know more about you than you may think."

She did not seem to like this answer.

He continued talking ignoring her conflicting attitude.

"This baby your carrying for example. She is not a curse, but a blessing. Do not give birth with heart that only feels derision and frustration at her conception. She is life. In that you must find hope and destiny."

The woman stared at him like he had absolutely lost his mind.

"How do you know it's a girl?"

He shrugged, and held out his hand," Are you going to stand up or not?"

She very slowly reached and slipped her hand into his. He pulled her up, steadying her unstable legs and then slowly turning her towards the river.

"I think you need to drink from the water, before we go anywhere."

She began trembling, and turned her face, against him as if the river had eyes that haunted her.

"What's wrong?" he lifted her face, to see her eyes.

"I don't want to go there."

"Why not?"

"The more I drink, the more thirsty I get. I hate being thirsty."

He stared at her, bewildered.

"With that kind of attitude, you will always be thirsty. You must drink if you will ever find satisfaction."

She glared at him," You don't think I've tried. It's hopeless."

He let go of her hand," How far did you go?"

She blinked," What do you mean?"

He repeated the question.

She shook her head, beginning to cry," It hurt too much."

He gently pushed her ahead of him," I'll go with you. We'll drink together."

She didn't want to go. But with him pushing her, giving her no choice, the young woman slowly walked forward.

They reached the water's edge. She stared down at it like the water's held a nest of poisonous snakes.

He took her hand and knelt first, drawing her after him. He cupped on hand into the cool wetness and brought it to his lips.

"You try," he released her hand, letting it be her choice.

If a shark had just jumped out of the water at her, she could not have looked more frightened. Very slowly she stretched out shaky fingers towards the water. Her gaze shot to him, seeking courage.

" You can do it," he encouraged.

Trembling, she plunged her hand into the water and brought it dripping to her sunburned lips. She swallowed it with a groan, and dropped her hand into the water for more.

"Go as slow as you need to," he told her.

She only leaned closer to the water in response. In fact she began to drink greedily. He reached a hand out to steady her from falling into the river.

Then suddenly she sat back, face wet, glistening, but suddenly beautiful, calm and peaceful. Cuts and bruises had disappeared.

"Where does the water come from?" she asked in a whisper.

He chuckled, rocking back on his heels beside her.

"Do you want to find out?"

She nodded, he stood, giving her his hand. She awkwardly held her belly and rose, leaning against him.

"Then follow me..."

I remembered he loved me...

It was the way the enemy moved. The way they walked. Talked. Looked. Breathed. Smelled. Smiled.

It was the way the enemy pulled you in, like a seductive woman, teasing you with a temptation only the very strong could resist.
It was the way the enemy pulled the trigger, destroying a soul, that only deserved death, but had been chosen for life.

I watched them die, every day on the battlefield. I watched them die together. I watched them die alone. It was always the same. The same lies they believed. The same stories they told, over and over again. The same defenselessly way they surrendered. Every time nothing changed.

Why? How could this weak enemy have such victory, over people who knew the truth? What possessed some one to embrace darkness over light? Where was the love that had been written on their hearts at birth? Why would they forsake it all, and except so much less?

I cringed every time I saw them go to the front lines. I knew only half would return. A broken and hopeless half. Despair and anguish would weaken them for days, until resolve would grip their hearts, and they would run to the front lines once more. Still fewer would return whole.

It was hard not to scream at them for their blindness. It was painful to remain silent. To remain faceless and nameless among a company of people who should know their own names...the names their king had named them long ago

But I have been where they have been. I know nothing I say will save them.

Only one Voice saves them.

I heard that Voice, it was the only thing that pulled from the enemy's dark and lovely arms. I know what it's like to be saved, what it is like to resist the enemy. I have done it, and it is possible.

I've watched the enemy crumple to dust with their own lies embedded like bullets inside their chests. And I have watched their strongholds go up in flames from one word I spoke that came from the King.

It has never been a question that the enemy can be defeated, the question is how long will we let them think they can't? What price are we willing to pay, to follow the battle plan? Why do we always think we can defeat them with ardor and passion, and forget the wisdom and discipline of our leaders?

I was with the King today, and his heart was breaking for those who are lost. I asked him why he lets them fight, if he knows they will only surrender to the enemy.

He looked at me, with those eyes that burn away all fear and said through tears," Because I know I will get them back."

"But they are hurting," I whispered in anguish.

"I have to give them the choice," he said," if I didn't they could never love me."

I knew it was true. I had made that choice once, more than once, many times over. I knew what it was like to be loved even in darkness by this king. I knew what it was like to discover what I was made for. To love this king...and him alone, forever.

I tried to love other things. Sometimes I thought I'd reached it, that pinnacle of fulfilled desire and longing...always I had crashed and burned, except in loving him. Love with him, only ever ended without an ending....it was eternal.

Fighting for him now was loving him. Loving these people, who turned their backs every day on him was not easy, but because I loved them, and I loved what he loved, my heart broke for their brokenness.

When I trudged with the faithful through the valleys, on hot days, when water was scarce and words were few, I remembered he loved me.

When I cleaned my weapons and blistered my feet from shoes too big for me to wear, I remembered he loved me.

When I endured sleepless nights of watchful anxiety over the enemy's near presence, I remembered he loved me.

When I held a dying child in my bruised arms, I remembered he loved me.

When I forgot, and people disappeared, I remembered he loved me.

When I stumbled myself into the enemy's camp and was often captured, I remembered he loved me.

He would always rescue. He would always forgive. He would never give up.

So when the enemy came, with their beautiful song, their enticing eyes, with their graceful movement and their unrelenting pleasure, I remembered only one thing...He would love me forever.

The battles would one day end. Death would end. The lies would end. Blood would no longer flow, but until then, we were commanded to resist, to arm ourselves, to fight with the weapons of the king.

Whether I ran to the front lines, or watched others go themselves, I was to always remember one thing...he loved me.

He loved them all.

The enemy could never love...and that was why they were already defeated. That was why they tried every thing they could to grab us with false love. It was all they had to offer.

It would never endure.

These people, these soldiers, these children, these chosen ones...they would fall, they would rise, they would fall again, but it was already written....they had been born for life, and nothing can keep back the love of a king.

And I remembered...he loved me. That was why I had been born. That was why we all lived and why we would never taste death. Ever.

Heat. Walls. Hope.

It was the heat, I think, that was the worst of it. The darkness I actually could take. But combine that with a thick, sweltering atomsphere of oppressive heat, the pressure is unbearable.

I can't remember why I am here. I know it was my choice. I wanted it. There is a purpose. A means to an end. There always is. In my life, absolutes are the foundation I walk on.

Things never shift or walk in shadows, there is never a "maybe" or " perhaps", there is only this or that, black or white, hot or cold. It's infuriating at times. What wouldn't I give to have the vague comfort of an abstract meaningless moment. At least it would feel good...maybe.

Yet, somehow, after falling asleep, I had lost all knowledge of why I was here, only the frustrating abstract reminder, that yes, you have to be here. Until, well...it's not quiet clear until when.

That's what sleep must do to you here...numb your senses, stifles your memory, suffocate your desires. I love sleep. I hate sleep.

I know this is bad. I know I'm in for it. Yet, still a part of me knows that this is exactly what is meant to happen. There was no other way to get to my destination. No other way to be challenged. I love challenges, right? I wish I could remember.

It's never easy remembering, maybe that's why I'm glad I fell asleep. Yet I really hate that I fell asleep. Why did I in the first place? The darkness pressed in further, tightened by the heat. I swallowed, realizing I am sitting up now. I of course cannot see, but never the less I know I can move. I stretch out my legs, testing their strength. They are numb, like everything else. I groan and wait until the feeling returns. Fire seems to burn through my limbs. I unsteadily decide to crawl. It wasn't far to the wall. How I knew there was a wall there is beyond me, but it was true. In ten feet I reached it.

It was a stone wall, cold to the touch. It felt good. I press my face against it's hard, coolness and then stood to me feet, leaning against the solid, strength. The oppressive heat still holds me unrelentingly. I am far from good, but the wall is encouraging. Letting a smile drip from my lips, I begin walking slowly, one hand on the rough-cut stones. Walls are dangerous things. Stones are too. But dangerous doesn't always mean bad. Walls protect things. I wonder what this wall is protecting?

I blinked....feeling like I'd uncovered a secret. Was that why I was here? To get inside this wall? Why the heat? Why the darkness? Why did I need to get in?

Nothing matched or made sense. Nothing was black or white, it was all colliding in a mesh of pressure. My chest was starting to hurt.

But one thing it was doing, it was pressing me on to follow this wall. Whevere it led, I would follow. Somehow the coolness of the stones took an edge off the heat. Just a little. This small spark of hope was quite powerful.

A journal entry...

So it's been a while since I've posted anything on here. Came across something I wrote in my journal last month and thought it would be something worth other peoples' time...maybe. Just a short little thing I wrote between me and Jesus...once again, a story.

I sat at the foot of the great oak. I knew my forehead was wrinkled in seriousness and that my mouth was turned down in a soft, but thoughtful frown. I could do nothing to stop it. Even when I heard his gentle footfalls on the path along the lake.

I didn't even look up when he crept down and sat beside me. I felt him tip his face to get a good look into mine.

"How's my girl?" he said in his dear familiar voice.Somehow, even this did not take away the edginess inside my gut.

"I don't know," I replied honestly, leaning my chin in my palm and turning to return his gaze. It was as beautiful as always, full of peace. I needed that solidarity.

I shook my head continuing to speak," It's all so wrong. I feel like nothing can truly be fixed in this world."

He didn't smile and his face grew solemn." I know," he paused letting those two words sink deep inside my soul. They gripped me like iron, and then he said," ...you feel like everyone, one way or another is always going to eventually make a wrong choice and we are all waiting on that moment when we do and once it comes nothing will ever fix it. This feels you with dread and despair, you feel doomed."

I stared at him, feeling that dark despair creeping into me even as he spoke. He had said it with such feeling. I knew he felt it too. That thought alone gripped me with terror. If he felt the same way then we all were truly doomed.

Reading my thoughts, as he always did, he then said," I feel every thought and emotion you have, don't think I don't, but I don't believe the lies they tell you. I never believe something cannot be restored. I don't believe in never or in endings."

I blinked, feeling the frustration build, like a dam about to burst. The words he spoke could not quiet me.

"People only see what they want to see, they play games and deceive. How do you know what truth is? Just when you believe, that belief is ripped away with gnawing little doubts. I wish I could save people, you know, I hate what I see. How do you watch it happen? Doesn't your heart break?"

I knew his answer, well, at least I thought I did. I knew also that all of this had nothing to do with me, especially when it came to saving people or making things right, but I was selfish and all I could do was question and rant like a spoiled child.

I took a deep breath, a tear sliding down my cheek. Full of kindness and grace as always, he wiped it away and slid closer, not speaking for an entire moment as he wrapped one arm around my waist, folding me into his chest.

"Every second I breath," he whispered into my ear," but then I sit here with you and I see the sunset and I remember one thing."

"What?" I whispered back, my heart pounding. That was not the answer I expected him to say.

"You are beautiful," he kissed my cheek," and what ever it takes to make you believe that I will sacrifice."

"You are crazy," I replied, closing my eyes even as the words strangely gave me comfort.

"My ways are not your ways," he said softly.

I suddenly felt much better.

A real feeling....

The lights glow with enthusiasm, then dim to a lull of solitude. The voices rise like an assembly, yet each distinctly different. Every sound unique, beautiful and full of pure, childlike peace and contentment. How could life be more satisfying and beautiful then it is right here, right now in this moment? Every little motion and movement is the action of close and intimate, comfortable friends.

A soft smile, a silly laugh, the touch of a hand and the rise and fall of conversation. Everyone is gathered to the gentle rasp of an acoustic guitar, faces raised in beauty, voices yearning with longing. could there really be anything more simple and pure as this?

I write, yet can capture nothing of this moment in time that will soon end as the evening slips by, minute by minute, second by second. How time takes a vicious unrelenting hold on our lives. I wish I could hit the pause button, yet to stop such beauty would be an abomination to it's life. I want to experience a thousand more like it.

Where are the angels, where is the sweet fragrance? Can I hold onto this forever? Do these precious moments just fade. Never...they will continue on for eternity...heaven is waiting with a treasure store of them.

Dance.

When I opened my eyes, the gory battlefield was gone. Instead, a huge meadow spread out all around me. I blinked; my heart beginning to pound. Dazzling white surrounded me, a sea of it. A million white daisies. The sweetest of perfumes filled my senses with a heady richness.

I raised my head, fingers rising from the soft grass under my hands. A gentle breeze blew, lifting my hair off my neck and swirling the aromas around me. I reached up smiling towards the clear blue sky, closing my eyes fir just a moment breathe deeply.

Then my eyes snapped back open as other sensations assaulted me. The pain, wounds, sweat and blood has vanished!

I glanced over my skin and gasped as I saw beautiful, glowing skin, every inch of me! I felt of my face, suddenly giggling.

And then I saw the dress. Simple, white but delicately woven with tiny golden strands. It was perfectly fitted, mid-calf and silky. Small corded straps clung tightly to my bare shoulders holding the bodice in place.

I jumped to my feet, bare feet digging into the ground. The field of daises began to throb with emotion. There was only one thing I wanted to do.

Dance.

Who is this man?

It was only a smile of gentle compassion, yet in that moment the world might as well have flashed like a bolt of electricity through my vision. Why would this man take the time to glance my way with such innocent interest? No one looked at me with such mercy and kindness...only pity.

There was no pity in his blue eyes, only a gut-aching beauty. No one that beautiful had ever looked at me before. I dropped my eyes from his, willing him to walk away...like all the others. Do not give what I do not deserve, I forcefully thought.

Instead, I was shocked beyond comprehension as a voice spoke, a voice I knew was his.

"I saw you sitting here, and I cannot walk on by. Why is your head bowed to the dust? Look at me."

I raised my face, nearly wincing as my eyes met the intensity of his own.

"Why do you want me to leave?"

I blinked as I felt my soul ripped open at his words. Who could smile like he had and then read my thoughts like an open book?

"You do not have to sit here anymore. I've come to take you away."

He was completely straightforward and bold, every thought completely focused on me, with a purposefulness that frightened me. Within seconds my world had changed.

I had said nothing until now.

"Leave while you have the chance, they will come for you, and there is nothing you can do."

His face instantly changed; blue eyes suddenly darkening to a deep-seated passionate anger. The anger was not directed at me, but at the "they" I spoke of. My mind and heart jumped at the strange emotion his response invoked within me.

"I have searched for you for many months now. I do not walk away just walk away. "They" have no power over me, nor do "they" give me fear."

I trembled for a split second and involuntarily drew back as he took a closer step forward.

"Please..." I whispered.

"You have cried out for help," he said softly," This is what it takes. Today is the day."

I curled into a tight ball against the doorway, my hair falling in front of my face. I began sobbing, scared of this man's unfamiliar kindness and strength, yet scared of my captors' terror and oppression just as much.

The man knelt before me on one knee and I felt his hand reach out to brush away my hair.

"I will not leave, tell me, do you want to be free?"

I shrank from his touch, yet slowly nodded.

"Then I want you to do something for me, can you do that?" his eyes probed for an answer with all the tenderness of someone I had never known...a father.

The query in his voice was so trusting it was as if he had no doubt I would do whatever he asked. I shuddered, knowing in my heart I wanted to do nothing. I had always been made to do things, but his voice urged me so earnestly, I found myself nodding once more.

"Give me your hand?" he replied instantly.

I shook, afraid to touch him. He was a man, mens' touch were brutal. Yet my hand slipped into his. His touch was beyond anything I had ever felt. I gasped for a breath, my vision blurring as a searing shot of heat coursed from his fingers into the center of my body. A second strange emotion filled my being, a feeling of longing, of hope and dreams. A picture of a beautiful garden flashed before my eyes, piercing my heart with such desire I thought I would never be able to breath again.

The picture vanished and I returned to the filthy street, kneeling in the dirt, one hand clinging to his blue-eyed man's hand.

My eyes sought his hungrily, like a child's. I realized only he could take me to that garden. I cry escaped my lips and then my vision began to fade again. I felt his hand release mine and then two strong arms lifted me up effortlessly. My head was cradled against his chest.

The last thing I remember before losing conscienceness, was a kind voice speaking in my ear.

"You will be loved as you were created to be."

Only the Beginning of the Beginning...

What is this Thing that draws people together in worship? What causes a small group of six to ten young people to sit for hours, late into the night singing songs and praying to a Being most would say we cannot see or hear? What is this mystery? Why do we find such beauty here? Who is this God who places such aching longings in our souls? I cannot give emotion it's honor. This is a reality of who we are at the core of our beings. Yet mind, will ...and emotions central to who we are.

In absolute grace the Lord asks us to surrender them all to His ways. How delightful this is. Are we fools to think such a thing? Never.

Sit with Jesus, in a place surrounded by people whose one desire is Jesus, and very quickly your heart will explode with peace, revelation and awareness of Jesus' voice. It is Jesus in your brothers and sisters that beckons you forward, into His presence, deeper into a steadfast spirit of praise. How does this happen? How did my heart reach this place? I feel full and complete beyond measure. Can I sit here forever? Can these faces and voices remain for eternity. Yet, this is not even scratching the surface of these longings.

Even as I love the atomsphere of fellowship, of joining in love towards Jesus and of continually pouring out sacrifices of praise I feel a urgent rush of more desire flooding my spirit. Heaven is like this. I have no doubt of it, but this is only the beginning of the beginning.

Jesus, create a heart of deeper reality. I never want to be satisfied, but always fulfilled. Hold my heart and whisper to me Your truth. Your truth of what is good and holy. Nothing else will I seek.

I wiil never leave you

I was running down the ancient road my breath beginning to grow thin. The thick darkness of the night was closing in around me like a suffocating blanket. Silent, towering shadows of an old, deeply rooted forest overshadowed starless sky above and around the narrow road.
Fear was radiating through my body in waves of paralyzing strength. My feet ran like rods of steel, slow and heavily. Surely I had nothing to hope for except the dawn. Thoughts of dawn however were infected with disbelief and a disappointment of illusionment.
A cold wind wrapped it's icy fingers around my thinly clothed body. Both feet were bruised from tripping over rocks, roots and potholes scattered across this forgotten road.
I wanted to stop but the fear of stopping overcame my fear of the forest. Where had the day gone? Why was night so long? What would this road lead to?
I felt forsaken.
Tears began streaming down my face. I was alone and would only be able to make it by whether or not I kept my feet moving. The thought of doing this forever made me want to die.
Then, everything changed. Strong arms picked me up with gentle tenderness. A sweet, beautiful voice spoke in my ear.
" I will never leave you."

My song of songs...

I sank to my knees in the center of the garden, exhausted and weak from my anguish and mourning. The devastation of the battle, the wounds, the terror, the pain clung to my thin and torn body dust on a wet skin. I was trembling with the intensity of such war and violence upon my soul.
A mangled and bloodied sword fell from my numb fingers as I sank with my head into the grass.

Perfume of the sweetest of aroma erupted through my senses. I smelled it to its fullest, yet could not enjoy or melt into its bliss. My body was so full of hurt and marred with bruises, both physically and within my spirit, I felt as far removed from beauty as a being could be.

I fell to bitter weeping, longing for comfort and completeness, yet feeling as though it was an impossibility that I could never have. Anything that was good would not be for me, not this war-ravaged warrior, who knew only the ache and tension of battle.

But then a voice suddenly whispered in my ear; whispered a name. It was a name I had never heard before, yet my ears opened up immediately in response. The name was my own. My eyes opened as I sucked in a breath from my tears.

Strong, gentle hands cradled my face and through the pain and blur of tears I saw the most beautiful face. It was the face of the man who had declared his love on the battlefield. His very voice had captured my heart. He had followed me into the garden...or had he led me here?

As my eyes locked into his, a calm washed over me. He wiped away the tears with rough calloused thumbs, and kissed my forehead.

" I will follow you to the ends of the earth to show you my love."

I wept softly again, dropping my head, feeling disbelief. How could he love this bleeding, violent and angry young woman. I was not the gentle, loving and kind princess that he deserved.

"Look me in the eyes, beloved," he lifted my chin. I did, once again overwhelmed by his beauty. Physical appearance had nothing to do with it, though he was a powerfully built fighter, whose golden-brown head shone with glory. His face was perfect and flawless.

No, the beauty came from his blue eyes. What I saw there was more love than could be contained within anything or anyone. I was afraid if I stared too long, the very intensity of it would kill me.

Slowly, his hand wrapped around mine and his eyes refused to release mine," This is how I see you," he said in a firm and powerful voice.

The force hit me with a solid gasp. I saw myself in his eyes, mirrored there, full of brilliant light. The scene shone with clear, astounding reality. I barely recognized the girl before me.

I was clothed in the most radiantly white dress. I was dancing in a field overflowing with red roses; roses without thorns. I was barefoot, skin glowing without wounds, blood or even scars. My hair, long, golden, abundant and free.

There was no weariness; pain, fear or sense of trying to be something I couldn't be. I was simply me, yet not me, completely His.

"I want you, you delight me more than a thousand brides," he kissed me gently on the lips. Softly, with his gentle touch, it loosened the tense, hard, toughness of my walls, those thick impenetrable, ugly walls I had placed around me for protection. Through my pain I could no longer keep them there, under the intensity of the longing in his eyes.

My hand slowly reached up to touch his face. This small gesture seemed to ignite an explosion within my lover's being. He jumped to his feet letting out a triumphant shout of joy. I sank back on my heels, staring at him breathlessly.

He threw back both arms wide, smiling with a power that shot like an electrical current through my body. Then he started laughing and threw himself into an insane, though beautiful dance around me.

I glanced down at my arms as warmth followed the electricity. I gasped, as my wounds and pain vanished. His laughter floated like music around me. His voice shattered every little remaining vestiges of pain and hardness within me.

"I love the way you move, every little glance and touch quickens my heart to reckless desire. Every word you speak I listen to with eager expectation. Every pain and hurt I feel as my own. I love you without expectation or rules, only abandonment to see you smile when I kiss your lips and heal your wounds."

I slowly stood, as his words carried into a song, fading from laughter into a melody more intoxicatingly attractive and full of longing than I had ever heard before.

I stopped rising when his dancing stilled and thought he continued to sing, his eyes turned to me and one hand stretched out towards me. I hesitated, listening to His voice, but afraid that if I truly ran to him it would all be a dream.

The garden's atmosphere suddenly quieted completely, except for his voice.

"I have been with you since the day you first were awakened to love. Only I can satisfy...come"

I threw back my head suddenly laughing as I realized it was all so real, just by His voice, it became life. I ran as fast as I could into his arms. I saw him smiling broadly as his arms reached up, swinging me into the air and then into his embrace. With infinite tenderness he kissed me until I could not breath. He cradled my head into his chest, strong arms holding me with tenacious comfort.

"You belong here, forever," he whispered.

I didn't know how he did it, but he had...and I cried once more for sheer joy, receiving a love I could not understand, but knew I was created for and could never live with out.

Justice.

The Lord's eyes are searching to and fro throughout the earth, looking for someone who would cry out and contend for His justice. His heart is burning to find those who will be broken for His mercy concerning the oppressed and those whose voices of have been silenced. He desires to release voices of ones crying in the wilderness, to set the captives free and proclaim the coming of the Lord. He is establishing a throne firmly set in righteousness and justice. He will bring salvation to those who cry out to Him. He will answer the steadfastness of the watchmen and answer their hearts that are fixated on mercy.

Run after Him who holds the heavens in His hand, who has the power and authority of restoring everything and everyone to fullness and beauty. Hold fast to what you have been entrusted with. Proclaim truth into the places of darkness. Reveal the hidden treasures, release understanding into the hearts of men of who God is and how His hearts longs for them.
Pursue a spirit of compassion and justice. Whisper against the violence and watch it crumble, shout against silent lies, see them destroyed!

Growing...

I am so thankful for just being in inadequate right now. For having to face myself and realize I am not all I need, no matter how I try to justify that I don't do that. I am so thankful that the only way I can be adequate is through Him. I am so thankful that He created me to only being complete in being in Him and in nothing else. I love how He sweeps everything from out beneath my feet and says," trust me, I'm gonna catch you without fail."

"You are beautiful mess, and I love putting together all the pieces, and teaching you to delight in the process, because I delight in the process! You desire my heart? This is my heart."

Then His hands suddenly hold me, even as I feel the rush of fear and despair in my free fall. Those feelings immediately turn into absolute confidence and hope. It is not about me. It was never about me, yet it is, but it isn't.

I stop making plans of how to avoid messing up, I stop making plans of how to be perfect, I stop making plans of trying to create myself into what I think I should be...instead I throw myself into the wild, untamed greatness of crazy God is has nothing better to do but draw me into Himself.

That is all this life is about

Abba's hands....

It was in the way his eyes held me in their gentle blue gaze. That was my first memory of Abba. It was the way only goodness shown from their depths. I wonder how I could remember something so long ago, yet how could I forget? You held me so safely in your arms when I was child. I remember staring at the sky then, for hours, or at least the minutes seemed like hours. That's the way it is when you are a child. I remember staring at the midnight sky, nearly frightened at it's darkness, until you showed me the stars. I never left your arms. It was a game we played. Hide and seek, You did the seeking, I did the hiding and it always ended in one place. In your arms.

I remember running barefoot. You know you are absolutely childlike when the dark soil of the earth's foundations squishes between your toes and it brings giggles of delight from your mouth. Freedom comes in the place of dirt and smiles, of grime and sun-kissed cheeks. I remember watching how you moved and talked, wanting to be like you in everything. It was just that you were perfect, you were better than anyone else. You were more fun, more exciting and more beautiful.

I saw the way you laughed, and tried to laugh like you. I saw the way you made things with your hands and tried to do it too. I saw the way you talked to the puppies, and wanted to do it too. I saw the way you ran, and tripped in attempt to follow. You scooped me up and carried me away with you. I could speak a thousands words, yet it only took one from you mouth to leave me standing in speechless awe. I could stare for hours into your eyes, and never grow tired of their depth.

Where did my wonder go? Where did the innocent delight go? Where did abandonment go? Where did my eyes like yours go? Where did my laugh like yours go? Why do I leave your gaze?
Why do I run after the flowers, without calling for you to come see?

I need your hands Abba, to grab mine and lead me back. I need your hands Abba, to give me delight once more. I need our hands Abba, to give me comfort, to give me protection. Will you surround me now? In this place of absolute brokenness.

This child is reaching for your hands....yearning for you touch...for your presence.

...I seek the One my soul loves.

I've always loved the Song of Songs, but this week I began reading differently and with more purpose than I ever had before. I sought to see it directly as God speaking to me, and me to Him. Before I saw it only as the bride of Christ speaking to Jesus, the groom, but I have now put myself in that place as the "bride"...the shepherd girl...
...words cannot describe where God is taking me now. I've been reading chapters 1-3 at the moment, over and over again.

Me to God: Your oils are a pleasing fragrance, Your name is like purified oil; therefore draw me after you and let us run together!

God to me: How beautiful you are my darling. how beautiful your are! Your eyes are like doves.

Me to God: Like an apple among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the young men. In his shade I take great delight and sit down....and his fruit is sweet to my taste.

God to Me: O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the secret place of the steep pathway, let me see your form, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet and your form is lovely.

Me to God: On my bed night after night I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him but did not find him. I must arise now and god about the city; in the streets and in the squares I must seek him whom my soul loves. I sought him but did not find him.

...why? I love this ending verse."I sought him but did not find him." Why does God hide himself? He hides himself so that I will seek him, because if he was always present, always giving attention to my need I would take his love for granted. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder."
He draws away, so I will draw towards him, which is the greatest of delights, both in my "seeking" and in his "being sought after." I want this go down into my deepest pores, into my gut, until I weep with undying devotion and desperation for his presence.

"....when I found him whom my soul loves; I held on to him and would not let him go."