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/)