You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.
~ John 14:14
I am thankful today for the Bible's repetition. There are so many messages God sends through His written word, that He knows we need to hear more than once. Promises, especially the ones like John 14:14, the ones that are hard to really believe - God repeats them in various places.
The beauty of hiding God's Word in your heart through meditation and memorization, is that the principle begins to live and breath in the inside of you. God's truth becomes your reality . . . and as a result you can begin to operate according to that truth. As His disciples, we can begin to discern the lies and throw them headlong into the nearest garbage bin.
There is something I want to ask God for, but I find myself a little bit sheepish. (Kinda funny since we are His sheep. Just a thought.) What if He says no? What if He says yes? Are my motives pure? What would something like this mean ? What will it require of me and how will it change me? I have experienced the yeses and the nos from our loving God on one occasion or another. His answers always align with His character and His will.
Because God answers our prayers in direct connection with His plan and purpose, there really is no need for fear in the asking. If it is a no, then I can trust that it wasn't God's best for me. And if it is a yes, then I'd better buckle my seat belt for another descent off of the precipice called faith.
I decided a while back that fear just wasn't going to be an option for me anymore. No looking back. After all, what have I got to lose? Everything I will ever need is found in my relationship with the Lord.
And promise after repetitive promise, I am told that he will never let me go.
Saturday, December 8
Friday, December 7
Wishes
If you remain in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given to you. ~ John 15:7
Today I am thankful for wishes. Although, I know that many times I will approach God with a sort of a step-and-fetch it mentality. Lord, I need this, and could you please help that person over there? I know that you are the God of the universe, you are fully capable . . . so would you please take care of these things for me? The thought of such makes me feel sick, but if I am going to be honest with myself I have to say, that at times, this is my approach.
In a strange sort of way this verse does sound almost genie-like to me. Does God really mean that He will give me whatever I wish? It is like rubbing some kind of a magic lamp? If I am given three wishes, can one of my wishes be an endless amount of more wishes? What are the rules anyway? And something else to consider . . . are there even rules?
God revealed the hidden treasure behind these words to me some time ago. I am filled with an abundance of joy - not because my every whim has been tended to - but because I am one with Him. To remain means to stay, or to continue. It means hang on to the companionship of Jesus Christ, with the embrace of the pain as well as the blessings.
Now the second part is crucial. "If my words abide in you . . . " Abide holds a similar meaning: to reside, await and endure. God's Word needs to be planted deep within my heart and mind. And in order for it's power to take root, it must stay.
We live in a world that trains us to think life is all about "me". My comfort, my desires and my dreams. This is where I think we can get into trouble tallying up a big wish list. God is not in the business of providing for our every whim. It is only when our desires and our wishes match His, that we see the fruit of what we long for.
Him in me - and I in Him. When we begin to understand the magnificence of God's presence, then all that surrounds us becomes secondary and needless.
Be determined to put Jesus Christ at the top of your wish list . . . and you will see every one of your dreams come true.
Today I am thankful for wishes. Although, I know that many times I will approach God with a sort of a step-and-fetch it mentality. Lord, I need this, and could you please help that person over there? I know that you are the God of the universe, you are fully capable . . . so would you please take care of these things for me? The thought of such makes me feel sick, but if I am going to be honest with myself I have to say, that at times, this is my approach.
In a strange sort of way this verse does sound almost genie-like to me. Does God really mean that He will give me whatever I wish? It is like rubbing some kind of a magic lamp? If I am given three wishes, can one of my wishes be an endless amount of more wishes? What are the rules anyway? And something else to consider . . . are there even rules?
God revealed the hidden treasure behind these words to me some time ago. I am filled with an abundance of joy - not because my every whim has been tended to - but because I am one with Him. To remain means to stay, or to continue. It means hang on to the companionship of Jesus Christ, with the embrace of the pain as well as the blessings.
Now the second part is crucial. "If my words abide in you . . . " Abide holds a similar meaning: to reside, await and endure. God's Word needs to be planted deep within my heart and mind. And in order for it's power to take root, it must stay.
We live in a world that trains us to think life is all about "me". My comfort, my desires and my dreams. This is where I think we can get into trouble tallying up a big wish list. God is not in the business of providing for our every whim. It is only when our desires and our wishes match His, that we see the fruit of what we long for.
Him in me - and I in Him. When we begin to understand the magnificence of God's presence, then all that surrounds us becomes secondary and needless.
Be determined to put Jesus Christ at the top of your wish list . . . and you will see every one of your dreams come true.
Thursday, December 6
A Boy
Am I now trying to win the approval of men or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men I would not be a servant of Christ. ~ Galatians 1:10
I am thankful today for a boy named Clay. My little nephew of four years old died six years ago today. He was bright, funny, charming . . . and a great dancer. He lost his battle with neuroblastoma that cold December night - but his spirit lives on in all of us.
I could re-count the details of that night, and all of the things that I remember leading up to it, but I choose not to. There was something so incredibly sacred about that time. Even if I tried, the words wouldn't come out right. How do you explain something like that? Even after all of these years, I struggle to find words. Hushed, quieted and calm . . . this is my best attempt.
Without giving too many details, I remember blurs of family, food, hugs and greeting cards. I remember wondering what the Christmas tree in my living room meant anymore. I wondered what anything meant - why would God let a little boy suffer and die like that?
Everyone you talk to has got some kind of a horror story. We live in a fallen world, and pain is inevitable. Traumatic memories and places we have chosen to block out of our minds, these all fall under the category of misery. For Jodie, the loss of Clay was her nightmare - one that she has not been able to wake up from.
But darkness and pain has only been a fraction of the story. Terrible flashbacks and unspeakable emptiness, though daunting - have not won. Over the past six years, I have seen Jodie grow into the most incredible woman of faith. God amazingly took that little mustard seed of piercing pain, and planted it deep within her troubled heart.
What I have seen blossom is difficult to describe. I see a mix of vulnerability and strength all a the same time. There is this embrace of life like never before, and the brave willingness to face the pain head on. I see a love for every breath, and the cursing of that same breath.
As Jodie navigates through the rest of her own days, she does not seek the approval of man. She has learned that God is her only guarantee. His promises can be trusted, even when things look as black as night.
If I have ever seen a servant of Christ, it's my Jo Jo. Through this tragedy she has shed all of the things that hold little importance, to embrace what really matters - family, faith and love.
I will never forget that blue-eyed little boy. And his dear mother is something pretty incredible to behold. She is beautifully broken, clay being molded in the Potter's hands . . . a precious servant to nobody else but the King.
I am thankful today for a boy named Clay. My little nephew of four years old died six years ago today. He was bright, funny, charming . . . and a great dancer. He lost his battle with neuroblastoma that cold December night - but his spirit lives on in all of us.
I could re-count the details of that night, and all of the things that I remember leading up to it, but I choose not to. There was something so incredibly sacred about that time. Even if I tried, the words wouldn't come out right. How do you explain something like that? Even after all of these years, I struggle to find words. Hushed, quieted and calm . . . this is my best attempt.
Without giving too many details, I remember blurs of family, food, hugs and greeting cards. I remember wondering what the Christmas tree in my living room meant anymore. I wondered what anything meant - why would God let a little boy suffer and die like that?
Everyone you talk to has got some kind of a horror story. We live in a fallen world, and pain is inevitable. Traumatic memories and places we have chosen to block out of our minds, these all fall under the category of misery. For Jodie, the loss of Clay was her nightmare - one that she has not been able to wake up from.
But darkness and pain has only been a fraction of the story. Terrible flashbacks and unspeakable emptiness, though daunting - have not won. Over the past six years, I have seen Jodie grow into the most incredible woman of faith. God amazingly took that little mustard seed of piercing pain, and planted it deep within her troubled heart.
What I have seen blossom is difficult to describe. I see a mix of vulnerability and strength all a the same time. There is this embrace of life like never before, and the brave willingness to face the pain head on. I see a love for every breath, and the cursing of that same breath.
As Jodie navigates through the rest of her own days, she does not seek the approval of man. She has learned that God is her only guarantee. His promises can be trusted, even when things look as black as night.
If I have ever seen a servant of Christ, it's my Jo Jo. Through this tragedy she has shed all of the things that hold little importance, to embrace what really matters - family, faith and love.
I will never forget that blue-eyed little boy. And his dear mother is something pretty incredible to behold. She is beautifully broken, clay being molded in the Potter's hands . . . a precious servant to nobody else but the King.
Wednesday, December 5
Hemmed In
Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know. ~ Jeremiah 33:3
Today I am grateful for God's tenderness. I wrote about "answers" yesterday . . . and today's verse tells me that He WILL answer me when I call. Wow. It is one of those moments where I feel absolutely hemmed in by God. Some people might call it a coincidence, while others would carelessly shrug it off. Not me. It is in moments like these that God is so real.
A lot came together for me yesterday in the evening. I was sent home with this question to ponder, "What is yours to own?" This strange and awkward question had me realize something. I've been hiding. I didn't realize this until I really took time to think about this question. My normal tendency, to shrink back and hide, is what started to take motion . . . but instead a new strength began to surface. There was something more that God wanted me to see.
What is mine to own? Good question. In other words, what is my responsibility, and what will my next step look like? Next steps for me have been pretty elusive lately, but God sent His picture as clear as crystal.
A dear friend of mine crystallized everything during some of our sharing time today. Sitting on a fence, here but not really here, and not there either . . . yes, that is what I have been doing too. I have undergone some pretty deep wounds, and there are things that only God will be able to untangle. But I am ready to brush myself off and stand - to get off of the fence (so to speak) and to embrace this place that I've been called.
This shrunk back place has been my way of protecting myself. Silly, I know - but it is what I learned how to do very early on, and it is so easy to fall into that same default. There are so many things God has been showing me, and none of which I would ever be able to articulate, even if I tried. It is all so deeply intimate - just between me and Him.
But I will try and share this little nugget. I've come to realize that I have been trying to protect myself, using this method or that. Most of the time it is subconsciously. And underneath the smiles and behind the labels - I have been shrinking to the point of death. Well, I've decided from this point on that shrinking just isn't going to cut it for me anymore. I have been trying to protect myself from the pain - when pain is what God wants me to embrace.
In Hannah Harnard's book "Hind's Feet", we see that Much Afraid's companions were Sorrow and Suffering. She needed those companions in order to be taken to the high places - there was simply no other way. It seemed so strange and cruel of The Shepherd. But as the story unfolds, we can see why such friends were chosen.
In the same way, God will choose sorrow and suffering to lead us along this journey of sanctification. It is not supposed to be easy . . . look at what Jesus endured. A cross. Jesus knew his purpose, His reason for being here was not His own - it was all about the Father's will. And we must remember that we too have been bought with a price.
Call to Me . . . yes, my heart calls out through waves of worship. Prayer continues to be on the tip of my tongue. Answers fall like rain in the waiting, and how wonderfully refreshing the cleansing can be.
Today I am grateful for God's tenderness. I wrote about "answers" yesterday . . . and today's verse tells me that He WILL answer me when I call. Wow. It is one of those moments where I feel absolutely hemmed in by God. Some people might call it a coincidence, while others would carelessly shrug it off. Not me. It is in moments like these that God is so real.
A lot came together for me yesterday in the evening. I was sent home with this question to ponder, "What is yours to own?" This strange and awkward question had me realize something. I've been hiding. I didn't realize this until I really took time to think about this question. My normal tendency, to shrink back and hide, is what started to take motion . . . but instead a new strength began to surface. There was something more that God wanted me to see.
What is mine to own? Good question. In other words, what is my responsibility, and what will my next step look like? Next steps for me have been pretty elusive lately, but God sent His picture as clear as crystal.
A dear friend of mine crystallized everything during some of our sharing time today. Sitting on a fence, here but not really here, and not there either . . . yes, that is what I have been doing too. I have undergone some pretty deep wounds, and there are things that only God will be able to untangle. But I am ready to brush myself off and stand - to get off of the fence (so to speak) and to embrace this place that I've been called.
This shrunk back place has been my way of protecting myself. Silly, I know - but it is what I learned how to do very early on, and it is so easy to fall into that same default. There are so many things God has been showing me, and none of which I would ever be able to articulate, even if I tried. It is all so deeply intimate - just between me and Him.
But I will try and share this little nugget. I've come to realize that I have been trying to protect myself, using this method or that. Most of the time it is subconsciously. And underneath the smiles and behind the labels - I have been shrinking to the point of death. Well, I've decided from this point on that shrinking just isn't going to cut it for me anymore. I have been trying to protect myself from the pain - when pain is what God wants me to embrace.
In Hannah Harnard's book "Hind's Feet", we see that Much Afraid's companions were Sorrow and Suffering. She needed those companions in order to be taken to the high places - there was simply no other way. It seemed so strange and cruel of The Shepherd. But as the story unfolds, we can see why such friends were chosen.
In the same way, God will choose sorrow and suffering to lead us along this journey of sanctification. It is not supposed to be easy . . . look at what Jesus endured. A cross. Jesus knew his purpose, His reason for being here was not His own - it was all about the Father's will. And we must remember that we too have been bought with a price.
Call to Me . . . yes, my heart calls out through waves of worship. Prayer continues to be on the tip of my tongue. Answers fall like rain in the waiting, and how wonderfully refreshing the cleansing can be.
Tuesday, December 4
Answers
but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength; they will soar high on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. ~ Isaiah 40:31
Today I am thankful in the waiting. I have been walking through a very long and barren desert for quiet some time now. It is quiet here, and the blow of the wind is the only movement I can discern. It is a sweet invigorating breeze, that moves through the deepest part of my being.
Answers . . . questions keep presenting themselves with needed answers, and I always seem to come up short. Every time I look the concept of leadership in the face, I come up blank. It doesn't matter how long I ponder, which books I read, or who's teaching I'm under. I long to discover my next step, His next command - but all is silent.
It is beautiful and serene here in the silence. It can be so easily disturbed by the demands of other people - even the demands on my own self. God's presence is so incredibly warm and inviting here, that I sometimes long to walk away from everything . . . just to sit at His feet.
"I will praise You in the waiting . . . " This is a new song that I heard on the radio today. Yes, this is where I am - in the waiting. My heart sits at the edge of it's seat hoping to hear the call, working in preparation for the battle that awaits. In the waiting, I am strengthened. In the waiting His message to me is not always discerned, but His strong and familiar voice is crystal clear.
My hope is not in the answers. I will not spend another moment searching for a formula or the right approach to ministry.
My answer is and always will be - Him.
Today I am thankful in the waiting. I have been walking through a very long and barren desert for quiet some time now. It is quiet here, and the blow of the wind is the only movement I can discern. It is a sweet invigorating breeze, that moves through the deepest part of my being.
Answers . . . questions keep presenting themselves with needed answers, and I always seem to come up short. Every time I look the concept of leadership in the face, I come up blank. It doesn't matter how long I ponder, which books I read, or who's teaching I'm under. I long to discover my next step, His next command - but all is silent.
It is beautiful and serene here in the silence. It can be so easily disturbed by the demands of other people - even the demands on my own self. God's presence is so incredibly warm and inviting here, that I sometimes long to walk away from everything . . . just to sit at His feet.
"I will praise You in the waiting . . . " This is a new song that I heard on the radio today. Yes, this is where I am - in the waiting. My heart sits at the edge of it's seat hoping to hear the call, working in preparation for the battle that awaits. In the waiting, I am strengthened. In the waiting His message to me is not always discerned, but His strong and familiar voice is crystal clear.
My hope is not in the answers. I will not spend another moment searching for a formula or the right approach to ministry.
My answer is and always will be - Him.
Monday, December 3
Two Years
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. ~ Joshua 1:9
Today I am thankful for God's healing. I know . . . I talk about my illness and surgery an awful lot. Somebody even gave me some unwanted advice. "Stop living in the past!" But as much as I try, I just can't stop marveling at God's rescue.
Two years ago today I underwent major surgery. The doctors didn't know what was wrong with me. They didn't know if I would make it out. Only God knew . . . and He held me as close as ever during that dark and chilly season.
The older I get, the more I can see that in order for us to really be thankful for something, it has to be taken away for a while. Does this ring true for anyone? Sometimes we start taking a person or a relationship for granted, and when it takes a turn for the worst, we long to have it back. Nostalgia can carry us back, leaving an ache of what once was. Health is a biggie. You just don't know how great it is to move through a regular day until you are too weak to move at all.
I do tend to look back quite often, I must admit. But I don't glance in the direction of yesterday so that I can mope around about all of the twists and turns, nor am I looking to sport any kind of "poor me" trophy. Through God's eyes, I am able to appreciate the triumph of that storm. There is something so wonderfully intimate about that season - it was just me and God fighting things through. His presence was so strong and unmistakable.
I want to apologize if I am boring you to death with my hospital stories. Amidst all of the details, I hope that you can discern the beauty . . . through the darkness there was the most incredible sparkle. It embodies a voice that whispered, "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."
Wherever I go . . . He was even with me as I fought for my next breath - two terrible years ago.
A never-ending flow of thankfulness pours from my heart. I will never stop singing His praise.
Today I am thankful for God's healing. I know . . . I talk about my illness and surgery an awful lot. Somebody even gave me some unwanted advice. "Stop living in the past!" But as much as I try, I just can't stop marveling at God's rescue.
Two years ago today I underwent major surgery. The doctors didn't know what was wrong with me. They didn't know if I would make it out. Only God knew . . . and He held me as close as ever during that dark and chilly season.
The older I get, the more I can see that in order for us to really be thankful for something, it has to be taken away for a while. Does this ring true for anyone? Sometimes we start taking a person or a relationship for granted, and when it takes a turn for the worst, we long to have it back. Nostalgia can carry us back, leaving an ache of what once was. Health is a biggie. You just don't know how great it is to move through a regular day until you are too weak to move at all.
I do tend to look back quite often, I must admit. But I don't glance in the direction of yesterday so that I can mope around about all of the twists and turns, nor am I looking to sport any kind of "poor me" trophy. Through God's eyes, I am able to appreciate the triumph of that storm. There is something so wonderfully intimate about that season - it was just me and God fighting things through. His presence was so strong and unmistakable.
I want to apologize if I am boring you to death with my hospital stories. Amidst all of the details, I hope that you can discern the beauty . . . through the darkness there was the most incredible sparkle. It embodies a voice that whispered, "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."
Wherever I go . . . He was even with me as I fought for my next breath - two terrible years ago.
A never-ending flow of thankfulness pours from my heart. I will never stop singing His praise.
Sunday, December 2
Magenta
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is work within us.
~ Ephesians 3:20
Today I am thankful for warmth. Chilly winds have set it. As the colorful leaves go limp and submit to the season, I am reminded of how wonderfully warm it is inside. Bundled up in a blanket, sipping on hot chocolate reading a good book - what could be better?
There is a little tree that sits outside of my bedroom window. Small in stature, the fragile looking branches stand firm against the bitter wind. There is so much about this tree that reminds me of my Grandma. When she went to be with the Lord five years ago, that tree was planted in her memory.
There are oodles of things that I love about that tree - it's large shiny leaves, it's delicate and graceful posture. But my absolute favorite part, are the bright pink blossoms that arrive dead in the middle of winter.
The color of springtime boastfully rising toward the sun, when everything else around it shivers. My Grandma's life and legacy operated very much the same. She had endured some real heartache in her life, but she always managed to meditate on the silver lining. My Grandma Dottie spent her life helping other people, with a smile, some groceries - and every once in a while a break into the Hollywood scene.
Just like my beautiful Grandmother, that tree symbolizes what it means to walk by faith. As the storms of life blow in, often times unannounced, we feel naked and stripped to the bone. But underneath the surface lies a power that could come only from God. This power challenges any giant, it overcomes the worst of circumstances, bringing hearts of contention together into lasting unity. This power I speak of is love. God's sweet reminder for me, is packaged in foliage that has been carefully placed outside of my window.
Life is hard. Storms can be fierce and unyielding at times. But in spite of torrential rains and crisp winds . . . one strong and determined flower can break through the impossible, bringing the hope of spring.
I am thankful today for the warmth of color. It amazingly washes away all that seems gray and bleak. Jesus Christ holds a rainbow of promises for anyone willing to simply ask and believe.
This life giving power of hope, color and love is held in you and me. Be bold as magenta in the grays of life. Turn your face toward heaven, and be determined to bloom - regardless of what the winds bring.
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