He Chose (The Ultimate Christmas Love Story)

He came in flesh, bone and tendon. Gasping His first breath as tiny hands unfurled and the wetness of birth was wiped from His tender skin. He came vulnerable to set the stage of His life.
He didn't have to. He chose to. God chose to stoop down from on high...to multiply from cells in the secret place, to emerge from labour pains, to cloak Himself in flesh, sit cross-legged among men in the dusty streets, to look eye-to-eye with the vulnerable ones. He chose to love the unlovely, to strengthen the not-so-strong, to heal the castaways... and He chose to live and die, bruised and torn, among the vulnerable...so we could see Him, know Him, choose Him as our own. And His death and resurrection would mark His ultimate choosing of you and me, tearing of the flesh He was born into for the ultimate tearing of the veil that no longer separated us from the Holy of Holies. Inviting us in with full access. Preparing the way to a life beyond the vulnerable. Rolling the carpet into His throneroom where my cloak of common-place is exchanged for His robe of righteousness. My vulnerability is exchanged for His spirit, His heart, His freedom, His fullness of joy, His gift of life everlasting. As I trace my fingers over the bruises and scars of my life, He invites me to also trace His...calloused feet, bruised side, lacerated temple, nail pierced hands. I trace over them all until I find myself lingering and pulled in by the heart of it all. The thrumming of His love found in the warmth of His heart...just for me. I fail and fall. He sees and saves. He meets me in the dust...in flesh and bone...in the darkness of night...in the humanness of birth...in the hay of a rugged barn. He meets me there in the knowing. He fills the empty spaces with more than enough. He heals my wounds with understanding...because He bares them with me. His coming, God incarnate, tethers me to this love story where I've been sought...where I've been bought...at a price. The Christmas babe coos in the night; calling my name; drawing my heart. Beginning this love story where His choosing of flesh is the ultimate choosing of me. His birth in lowly places lifts me to the heights of the heavenly realm. Because He chose.

(see picture at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523039964420/)

Releasing Simplicity

A simplifying.  A yearly search for less...because deep in the soul less fills with a fullness more so than anything of worldly abundance ever could.

Less of my own wants; a giving away of myself.  A simplifying...focusing on the things that will last beyond the expiry of the eggnog in the fridge. A spilling out of the overflow of what has already been poured into me.  My spirit longs and aches to really get this and live it out.

But try as I might, every year I miss the mark...miss the point.  The whirlwind of the season...the focus on things carnal...not meaning to, but getting sucked into the empty vortex of never enough.  Wanting to make this holiday better than the last.  In a desperate effort to fill the emptiness...the darkness...the longing, I stuff my world with twinkling lights and shiny bright paper and bows containing as much profound meaning as this fast and furious commercial season. When it's all said and done, both my bank account and my spirit are depleted.

I love Christmas...I always have.  At the core of it I have always felt surrounded by a sense of hope and the excitement of celebration.  As a kid it was magical.   But the years can dull the shininess of the childhood filter.  The promises of the season are of finding that peace that is unfamiliar to most of us.  That sense of looking beyond yourself and finding fulfillment in doing so.  And that's the quest I find myself on year after year. Where exactly is that pocket I can rest in and be filled to brimming over with meaning...with comfort and joy...where all is calm and all is bright?  There are glimpses of it here and there but never enough to sustain.

In an effort to simplify, I look for the perfect equation with set perimeters to determine where an infilling might come from...but my Creator's order and His divine instruction is never as complicated as I make it out to be.  That in the searching for a filling up I need look no further than being right here...in His presence.  I need not tirelessly get my hands entangled in hanging more tinsel, kneading more doughy sweets or tying more ribbons on treasures under my tree.  Attempting to surround my world with more will not dull the ache.  Those are the distractions that have held me back in years past.  Even if my intentions were of good-will-toward-men, without resting in His presence I would never find what my soul truly searched for.  Even in the giving of myself, without His filling I am giving from a place of emptiness...and you cannot give what you do not have.  To be known, loved, filled...with fullness of joy.  Because in His presence is where the secrets are revealed, unfolded...unwrapped.  With that childlike filter...ripping and tearing away the paper with sheer excitement to reveal the prize inside.  A prize that will change everything.  A prize with eternal relevance and worth...of hope, peace, joy and love...and it fills me to fullness and the overflow multiplies the gift so I can give it away effortlessly. I'm undone to know the truth He pours out and to be filled with all of it to the fullest.  Who knew that the search for less would fill me with more than I can contain...more than I know what to do with but to give it away.

The Christmas babe came for Love's sake.  He pursues me with this Love...beyond words...beyond my limited understanding.  As I seek His presence this season, I'm pulled deeper into the gifts He's waiting to give...with complete fullness.  

In his presence is fullness of joy.

~Psalm 16:11

(see pictures at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523039933126/  http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523039933123/)

Releasing Peace in Knowing

He is near...closer than my thrumming pulse. Even when my weak flesh of unbelief rises up, the truth will always remain the same. But today I am blessed with the peace in KNOWING.  There is nothing sweeter.  Perhaps it's the fruit of times spent pressing-in when doubt had risen up and rested...nagging away. It's easier to just up and leave when the pressure is on, but there is blessing in sticking it out.  

Blessing for those that mourn, those poor in spirit, those uncompromising a pure heart...for they shall see God! (Matthew 5:3-12)  Blessing comes when He shines light on something  that my eyes have failed to see. When my mind has been opened to a new perspective, and the cobwebs of the past have been blown clean through.  A revelation of the heart to move me into a new chapter and new dimensions with the King.  Because when you clear the way, there is room for the new to begin. 

I hear his whisper and I feel His protection.  He has opened my eyes in a vision to where I've been placed: I see 4 walls enclosed by a roof and a floor, all made of glass - bullet proof, fire proof, disaster proof glass.  The air is filled with peace and the soft gentle lullaby of His countless loving thoughts about me.  They flow like a gentle river, never ending, filling me up.  I know I'm in a Panic Room of sorts where the panic was checked at the door - but I'm more than safe here...I'm confident in this place of refuge.   Sometimes I can see the war waging around me and can hear it clawing at the deadbolt, picking at the lock, but contrary to my usual knee-jerk reaction to such threats I am resting and covered with His peace and promise that no weapon formed against me shall prosper (Isaiah 54:17).  He's revealing tidbits about the circumstances around me...not because He wants me to solve the mysteries but because He knows that truth can calm the confusion, bind the lies and loosen the strongholds...when I'm ready to receive them.  I watch and I listen and I rest.  

I sense that this KNOWING is more than a gift...it's a way of life.  It's a continual outpouring to douse myself in moment by moment. Open my mind to the KNOWING, instead of living the close-mindedness of offence, anxiousness or unrest. It's a place to not only press-into with force and what little strength I can muster, but as I rest, I release.  In the same way that I press-in with force, as I give in to rest my whole weight gives way - pressing-in.  Minus the fierce fight and the hot mess.  He never asked me to come with my fists up.  Rest and release. Moving me to deeper revelation...deeper restoration...deeper relation...with Him.  Because relationship is the beginning and the end of this story...all He wants is YOU.

(see picture at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523039520786/)

Releasing a New Catalyst

The life-long journey to happiness...

this tightrope walk has been quite the balancing act and at times seemingly impossible.  

To keep things in perfect balance so that my boat is never rocked. To place things in perfect, uninterrupted order. To work hard and make good choices with this underlying layer of a need to be showered with praise that in turn will fill up some insecure emptiness that dwells deep within. Somewhere along the line I decided that the approval of others and the high of a job well done was all that was worth living for and became the goal of my existence. The catalyst of my happiness. But when the heat turns up, the pressure presses in, and my humanness is in full effect...when I'm making mistakes and my equilibrium is lost where am I left? It's too easy to fail and to fall and to let emotions bump and bruise the tender flesh of my ego. The darkness begins to set in around me as I scramble to fix myself...to do better...to be better. But in spite of all my best intentions I'm forced to admit the hard truth...that I can't. The unraveling, the undoing in the secret place of my tightly wound self is the only place truth can begin. It's not in the striving or the threatening choke-hold of my will, although that is, admittedly, how I deal with my shortcomings. It's in surrendering. But surrendering is not a passive action...it's not weak...it's not a grovelling tail-between-my-legs thing...it's not the end. Maybe it's actually the moving from living within set parameters dictated by a broken world to living beyond human abilities. Into the realm of impossible...humanly impossible...unchartered waters where few have dared to set sail. Surrendering to a God who promises to be everything that I am not. Strength in weakness, beauty in ashes, righteousness in sin. No matter my failures the river of acceptance and approval, the fountain of joy and true contentment forever flows and my cup runneth over! But I must choose to surrender to the current and stop trying to swim up-stream. The happiness and joy I seek is not in striving against the current where I always seem to be pulled under by the tow...it's in the refreshing of the new streams found down the course. In the waters I don't know how to navigate yet. In the twists and turns I can't see, let alone can map out and plan for. Maybe there is a life and purpose to be unlocked in those twists and turns, if only I'll stop resisting them.
Along with surrender follows a similar vein in the heartbeat of happiness. And it beats to the rhythm of a familiar pulse. A familiar sound...the sound of my own voice. My heart and my mouth, though physically separate, are one in spirit. What is my mouth telling my heart? Life and death rest at the tip of my tongue...which am I choosing to release? Which am I allowing to move me along? Set that firm foundation of joy on that bedrock of life. Be silent when death tries to rise up...don't let it wreak havoc even if it tastes sweet. Instead open your mouth wide, and raise your voice with the song of life!

And if this life-song is not a part of your familiar repertoire, if you don't know the tune let alone the lyrics there's only one place to start...be still. Still in the presence of the One who longs to lavish you with a fierce and unrelenting love. Letting your heart pick up on the new vibration. And find lasting and true joy through a different catalyst. Trade the fickle crowd for the One who is sold-out in love with you...who has only ever thought beautiful and lasting thoughts of you. Ask Holy Spirit to teach you the song of life...to play you the love song of your life. Listen closely cause this one was written just for you. It's playing in your key...it was written specifically with you in mind. And as you, by faith, begin to sing it out you will find the notes not only bring the joy your crave, but in the deep and unfamiliar waters, it saves the life you live.





(see pictures at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523039473959/ http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523039473963/)

Releasing My Map

I'm a planner, organizer and fantasist.  

Mapping out the road to my life as I expect it...as looks fitting. 

I've learned to adjust and recalculate at times...as necessary...but usually not without a battle within.  

When the twists and turns dizzy me and a season has provided more detours than I can keep count I find my map making less and less sense.  As confusion sets in, the fear mounts.  I'm lost!  And I can hear the voice of my GPS repeating, grating at my nerves: when it's safe, please turn around.  I keep checking the rear-view mirror, but it's not safe...it's never safe to turn around.  Or maybe it is...but truth be told, I fear living the safe life.   To head back to where I've been...to risk getting stuck there.  Missing out on more, just to be safe.  I want to move forward...keep going but this road is not familiar...and I'm learning that my ability to let go and follow the path blindfolded, by faith alone,  is not my forte.  

Hot and fighting I power off the GPS.  I'm scared...but even more so I'm offended.  I've seen others go down this same road with no bumps, no detours, no cross-roads to navigate.

I make a sharp right hand turn...I don't know why but I do it anyway.  The road is dark and I can't see more than 2 feet in front of me.  

Suddenly my car thrusts me forward...I've hit something and I can't move.  

As I get out and smell the smoke from the mangled engine I see a sign nailed to a large wooden post marked DEAD END.  I look to the left and right...what to do?  I look up...and there it is.  Close to the top of this wooden post is a cross-beam.  Then it hits me....the end of this road is marked with a cross.  

I look at the sign again...touch it with my hand and as my fingers brush over it's surface the letters smear... revealing something new underneath...something I couldn't see before.  New words...new meaning.  What I saw as a DEAD END now reads DEATH ENDS HERE in red cap letters.  But what does it mean?  

In that instant, my eyes flood with light...and there before me stands a man.  He hands me something...it's a map.  It's my map...carefully drawn and thought out but filled with paths of frustration, limitations and dog-eared from the wear and tear of the years.  My tired little map.  

As I look up to ask the man where he got my map, he hands me 2 more items...a hammer and a nail.  He leans against the post, his shoulder touching the sign...I read it again DEATH ENDS HERE.  

Give it up right here, he says.  Nail that map and everything that's tied to it - all your expectations, confusion, fear, offences and uncertainty - to the cross.  It's the end of this road.  Give it up and I'll show you something new.  

I take one last look at my well intentioned, planned out journey.  There was a day it looked really good...shiny and new, exciting, methodical...and yes, safe.  But in this light it didn't look quite good enough any more.  

With 2 swift blows I nailed it all to where it belonged.  I dropped the hammer, and with empty hands and eyes fully open I looked up and I recognized Him...it was Jesus.  

That's my girl, He said.   He pulled out a compass, looked up, waited and then nodded.  

Are you ready? He asked.  

Ready for what? 

To begin! 

I stared not knowing what to say. 

This is the beginning, my Love.  The beginning to live life abundant.  In case you didn't notice, death ends here.  I have so much more for you that you could never fit on that little map. I know stuff you don't...and I will lead you where you would never go on your own. Beyond the well travelled road.  Beyond this point.  The road ends here...death ends here. Let's go LIVE. 

We walked forward, beyond what I thought was a DEAD END.   

Beyond the boarders of my little map is where I began to live.

John 10:10 (AMP)

The thief comes only in order to steal and kill and destroy.  I came that they may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance (to the full, till it overflows). 

Isaiah 55:8-9 (AMP)

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, says the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.

(see pictures at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523039399472/  http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523039399470/  http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523039399464/)

Releasing the Joshua Linger

In the aching to be filled...the longing to know.  To be found immersed and woven into something greater and deeper than the perception of my experience.  After years of pressing in on what felt like bedrock...to now be pulled under like quick sand...intoxicated by the goodness and revelation of this place...This is the fruit of  the Joshua Linger.

That deep desire to want more...to experience more of Him even if it's just the AFTERWARD in the atmosphere that's left after His presence has rested.  Even the leftovers is enough to keep me on my knees and undone...lingering.

The understudy to a legend. A young man. Aware of his standing...but filled with a longing for more of God's presence.  Post-glory...the aftermath of a holy meeting, Moses and his Maker in the tent of the fullness of the Almighty.  AFTERWARD.  Joshua would linger.  Smell the remnants in the air.  Taste the leftovers...touch even just the perimeter of His glory...the hem. It was enough. (Exodus 33:11)

Twelve years a slave to the hemorrhaging in her body. She was of low standing.  As low as the dirt she groveled in.  A woman...and unclean by societal standards.    Hope had not shown it's face in her town...no help from any human hand.  She was desperate and willing to take a chance.  Moved to the beat of her heart...just to get close to Him.   She pressed through the crowd...pressed in to where he passed by.  She stretched and reached and grabbed a hold of all she could...down in the dirt...the hem of his garment.  A few threads she could grasp at...but linger, even if only from a distance, was worth it.  Was enough to change EVERYTHING.  (Mark 5:25-29)

Pull me under as I linger, God.  I know my worth without you is fleeting and I long for more.  Your presence overwhelms me.  Even if just the errant fibers of your glory.  And as I linger and wait in the AFTERWARD...as I press in and breathe in where you are, my lacking morphs to overflowing, and the AFTERWARD becomes my ever present NOW of peace and healing, joy and fullness. You delight in changing it all...you delight in me! (Zephaniah 3:17).

The fruit of the Joshua Linger is always worth it...in the stillness...in the wait.  Even in His AFTERWARD...His footprint...His back...His hem holds more than enough to fill me to bubbling over. 

(see picture at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523038825368/)

Releasing the King's Daughter

The King's daughter. The royal one.  Possessing full access to freedom and authority under daddy's name. Yet shackled, I sit observing life outside the prison tower window.  From afar I watch and wish and waste away.

I laugh at the irony of  fables...at Cinderella's ignorance to her worth.  I scoff at her story and wonder why she didn't just walk straight out?  But I opened my mouth to speak these words only to swallow them back...hold them in my belly.  Digest the lies and live them as truth.  

I press my ear to the floor...I hear a stirring below.  Familiar words being spoken but I have no comprehension of them...that there is meaning in them...and that in the meaning something new could be birthed. The words get closer as the King ascends the prison tower and decrees my freedom.  He delivers a Truth...it delivers my spirit.

Deliverance...it can look like one word. One word of truth.  It only takes one truth to unravel a million lies.   One truth to release the poison churning in my belly.  A release to make room for the fullness of my identity.  But am I brave enough to give room for this release?  To be dizzied and spinning...no up from down...backwards over right side up to spew out the dark fowl lies.  The journey from  grovel to glory can burn like fire and smell like Satan himself.  But without this journey of being undone and right wrung I live in my cell digesting lies...self-establishing myself as an orphan.  My words hold power...whether truth or lies...and they determine my life or demise.

And the truth is: Freedom is my family name...it's my destiny. It is the key to unlocking my inheritance.  When I choose the lies and shame...when I choose doubt and fear I reject the gift I'm entitled to receive through my kinship... my inheritance.  Because the King's daughter receives all that is within his jurisdiction...and my daddy dwells in the land of joy, peace, love and yes, freedom.  The land of the living.

With speed and every last ounce of life in me, I tear down the spiral staircase of the prison tower my feet barely touching the floor...the tower crumbles around me as the lies are loosened...as my Spirit births the truth inside of me for new life to begin. The adventure is mine and Truth sets the path in this new and unfamiliar territory...what I can now call home...in the land of the living.

(see picture at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523038764858/)

Releasing the Chief and Choice Part

The reverent and worshipful fear of the Lord is the beginning (the chief and choice part) 

of Wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight and understanding. 

Proverbs 9: 10 (AMP)

Wisdom, understanding, insight and knowledge.  On an honest and raw level, I am lacking.  Mutation of the biological is not the cause.  It's deeper and more unknown than that.  It's without the fullness of the Spirit that I can never truly be or know beyond the lacking.  The completeness which comes only from my Maker, my perfect Jesus, is the bread to fill me and and drink to water me and make me grow...to give me life.  

Sometimes my ego gets the better of me...I see all the things that I do know and all my abilities in comparison to the rest of the half lacking, raw and naked bag of bones that surround me...and I feel pretty good.  But when you compare yourself to dust it's easy to come out on top.  To compare imperfection to imperfection can make this black hole seem bearable...maybe even normal or desirable.  My imperfect and finite state is not all these ticking and moving moments are all about....these moments I call my life.  I long for something greater...a purpose...beyond this bag of bones covered in dust and dirt and maggots.

This finite and decaying world is limited in it's offerings.  Because all the things of this life are just that...dust!   So I start the quest for more....and not more dust but more of that which will never scatter and die...will never burn up...will last forever.  I want eyes that will see beyond the dust and bones in front of me.  Where my soul and heart become my vision...where I'm not limited by MY vision...I know my limitations...and I'm not ashamed to run after more.  My scope has to become someone else's though...someone who is not dust...  I want to see life from the spirit...insight and understanding unlike any bag of bones would ever see.

But where does this kind of living...insight...revelation begin?  How can a bag of bones know where to run or what to chase after?  How can the imperfect tap into the perfect...the fullness...the alpha and omega....beginning and end?  How do I not waste my limited mind on useless scattering things?  The reverent and worshipful fear of the Lord is the beginning... it's the chief and choice part (Proverbs 9:10 AMP)....it's the CHIEF and CHOICE PART!  Don't waste your effort on anything else.

But doesn't fear sound limiting?  And my Maker says be anxious about nothing (Philippians 4:6).  Can I trust this conundrum?  A conundrum of the flesh that rises up...that doesn't naturally rest in the shallow groove of the limited mind.  Dust can't fathom higher wisdom... love your enemy...turn the other cheek...God incarnate...born in a barn...bled on a cross...humbled himself before bags of bones.  Can such backward ways actually be right side up?  Can the dust have somehow scattered the truth...turned me into the center... the lies into truth turned fear into a weakness?  But THIS fear, this chief and choice part is based on reverence...on worship...on a bowing of the knee...a humbling of the self...because I know my standing, my place....my inadequacies.  And this fear is the beginning of Wisdom....the chief and choice part of wisdom.  The wisdom I knowingly lack...the wisdom I long for but has never been a part of this bag of bones...this scattering dust.

Confused and frustrated I drag this bag of bones through the dust of the wasteland...not realizing that confusion and frustration is not the truth but only the filter I use.  When you're limited in understanding, on the simple basis of not being the Almighty Creator, the author of eternal perfection and wisdom, it's easy to refuse to open your eyes and your ears to the Word that could maybe, just maybe, change it all.  Open you up to the chief and choice part...the point of all of it all...I don't want to miss this!

The choice is mine.  The response to this dare of sorts...this dare to live fully is mine to activate.  Do I respond to my Maker's simple instruction to tap into His eternal purpose?  Do I long for the beginning?  Because you can't reach the end with fullness and grace and wisdom by skipping over the beginning.  The chief and choice part.

(see pictures at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523038543363/  http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523038543358/)

Releasing the Wild Scavenger

Scavenger: 

1. an animal, bird, or other organism that feeds on 
dead and rotting flesh or discarded food scraps

2. somebody who seeks or looks through discarded items 

in the hope of finding something usable**

(Encarta Dictionary)

The call of the crow lifted my eyes.  As if a beckon to my soul... all within me stopped... looked up.  It was the first time wildlife had called out to me... acknowledge my presence in months.  

In this wasteland of frozen, the presence of life has retreated to southern safety.  Leaving the remaining in danger's despair, the threat of death...we hide our life in layers, protecting... eyes down, heads bowed as the harsh pressed in.

The call of a wild scavenger.  Her call doesn't reach the height of  beauty and her colours equal this measure. But that is not the end of her story.  

I watch as she sits perched atop the tallest branch, confident in hope.  Hope for life, hope for spring.  Hope that regardless of her ranking among her fellow-feathered-fowl she has a right and a purpose to live...to call for my attention...for a lifting of eyes and faith.  As if she spoke the words of the Apostle:  Wake up O' Sleeper.  Rise from the dead and Christ will Shine on you (Ephesians 5:14).   

Hope sprang out from the mouth of the wild one...wild at heart...wild in nature.  In the midst of the lung catching, face biting freeze.  Daring me to be wild...wild in living...wild in hope...wild in love.  Wild in the face of these oppressive days.  Like the wild Creator that breathed breath and life and beauty into us both...both so differently but equally filled with passion in His created ones.

There's Life in the wild one...freedom as you care less about the rotting of the wasteland, the breakdown and the outer mess that seems to remain.  Where your song may not clip the ear of many and your colours may not demand a fan-following but the hope IN you can call forth life...more than the offerings of the wasteland...you can spark the same hope IN another.  

Hope IN you.....Christ IN you. The hope of glory. (Colossians 1:27)

The heart of the wild Scavenger**

(see picture at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523038306964/)

Releasing the Blood Bond

I have her cheek bones...her sensitive heart...her genetics coursing through my veins.   

But it doesn't end there...that's only the beginning...of a bond that began in sync with the rhythm of my life.  

For 33 years she's poured out her heart...told me the same love story...our beginning. 

From the moment she laid eyes on me,  through a tiny crack in the curtain on the maternity ward...that blizzard of a March day ....she said she knew she was in love...even through the glass...even from the other room...her heart beat with mine.  

We skipped a generation, but never a heart beat.

Hearts beating...whispering a lullaby....lazy summer days up north...snuggling in the shade...she stroked my hair as I dozed.  I could hear her heart whispering ...

Hearts beating...whispering a song of hope...to a delicate soul.  Growing up... sensitive... misunderstood by most. It wasn't their fault...I was different.  But patiently, she always took the time...opened the door...her arms...her heart.  Wiped the tears...spoke truth to the tears...gave a part of herself...generously.

Hearts beating...whispering encouragement...helping my heart to beat...always.  Through darkest days...through new adventures...through creative outpouring.  Always there...with a heart open.  Feeding a young soul that seems to age too quickly...but her soul never ages....her love always grows...the bond never breaks.

My heart still beats with hers...my heart whispers our story...two spirits with different narratives but a common vein...an understanding...a deep love...a bond as thick as the blood between us.

(see picture at http://pinterest.com/pin/98938523036898972/)


Happy 80th Birthday, Grandma!  Although many years apart, you are my true kindred spirit and I will forever be grateful for the special bond we have always had.  I celebrate your amazing life today and wish you all the joy, peace and love that you deserve.

Love your Jenny xoxo

Releasing the Fruit I Eat

I act surprised...even shocked.  As if I didn't see it coming...as if I'm offended by the outcome.  In the moment I made a choice...even if I wasn't aware that was what I was doing.  Even if I turned all reasoning to off, my actions are not played out in a vacuum.  Consequences are a direct result.  Do I move in my coming and going with purpose... deliberately?  Or am I walking around on auto pilot hoping for the best as I close my eyes and blaze ahead full throttle. 

I read the words out loud as they jump off the page at me...

they will eat the fruit of their ways and be filled with the fruit of their schemes 

(Proverbs 1:31)

And the fruit of my schemes today are so bitter and rotten I practically choke them up.  But even in the midst of this bitter regret, He invites me to come into his presence, brings me back into alignment, feeds me the bread of life and washes every offense...nailing each rancid piece of the puzzle to the blood stained and splintered cross that offers me another chance, a new start.

I seek and ask for wisdom...His divine and holy wisdom.  The wonder of His knowledge and understanding...that pocket where my senses feel heightened to what has been in front of me this whole time...the muck is cleared...and I'm in that sweet spot.  His Word is truth and life but somewhere along the line I have translated their meaning into a distorted version of themselves.  Making them rigid and bitter instead of the sweetness, pleasure and freedom that they bring.  Lacking wisdom has a bitter aftertaste.  

I try to live my life marching to my own drum beat...following my own rules and expecting that the outcome will be far better than what He has designed.  I step out of His order and direction and think the path will still be straight and narrow because I know what I'm doing.  I fumble around in the dark wondering why I keep falling into traps...why I get so confused and distracted.  I can't see in the dark...I can't see when I turn my back on the Light...the Truth.  His truth is the only way to be sure I can see clearly...

Your word is a lamp onto my feet and a light for my path (Psalm 119:25). So that when the path forks or takes a deep plunge into the unknown, each step...one at a time...will be lightened... enlightened... given the space and clarity that it warrants.  Space and clarity so I find the safety He intended...the health and comfort He intended...the wisdom, knowledge and understanding He intended, feeding Life to my mortal body and my immortal spirit.


1 Corinthians 10:23-24 (MSG)

Looking at it one way, you could say, “Anything goes. Because of God’s immense generosity and grace, we don’t have to dissect and scrutinize every action to see if it will pass muster.” But the point is not to just get by. We want to live well, but our foremost efforts should be to help others live well

(see pictures at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523037901884/   http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523037901885/)

Releasing the Deep Freeze

The ice storm of 2013 cut power from hundreds of thousands of homes in southern Ontario.  This experience caused me to reflect...

The darkness sat heavy around me...and the dampness of the winter freeze threatened to creep through the piled layers and ice me from the calloused exterior to that which is vulnerable... 

Staying afloat in this undertow of blinding dark and finding my present self in this shallow breath, the abyss mocked my weak and fading spirit.  33 hours without the furnace of life...the heartbeat of my safe haven, and you start to see the true colourblindness of the dark.  All life and vibrance bleed together in the lie that this is the end...you deserve this.  Fear lives in the dark...depression lives in the dark... Satan and all his accusatory schemes live in the dark.  In my weakness, I am afraid of the dark.

But even if my flesh feels overcome and my weaknesses shamefully expose their nakedness and foul stench...I can boldly declare that I am NOT overcome!  With haste and without condition, my mighty Saviour overcomes the darkness and devours the demons threatening death.  They may claw and screech and threaten blood shed but their bark does not reflect their bite when the sword of the Righteous King has already determined their fate.

Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see (Hebrews 11:1).   Even when I literally cannot see the step directly in front of me I can be assured by the confidence that my blindness is not where it ends...that I'm not alone in this.  No matter how dark it may appear all around me I can allow peace and joy from the TRUTH to thaw my heart and thought patterns.  

Peace is protecting my soft and warm inner-self by not indulging her in a troubled or fearful heart...and to take the power I have been given to stop the choking pattern of allowing myself to be agitated and disturbed, fearful, intimidated, cowardly and unsettled (John 14:27 AMP).

The warmth of life comes from being saved from the self-destructive patterns that allow the cold to creep in...the darkness to press in...my spirit to give in.  Saved for a new day... a new year...a new chance...a new resolution....my self-revolution...to LET GO so His light...His eternal warmth is LET IN.

(see picture at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/98938523037831184/)