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MOAB IS MY WASHPOT

24 Nov

Psalm 60 and Psalm 108

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I have been set between two warring factions,

Each is dear to my heart.

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I stand between the two and push each back,

Trying in the physical to do that,

Which only the spiritual can change.

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The anger and violence that explodes is frightening,

It cannot continue – it must not.

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One faction leaves in rage,

Tainting the lives of those left behind.

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I grieve.

I grieve in travail that seemingly,

Cannot be quenched.

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I pray and clean my house,

I pray and stand in faith,

I pray and wait for my miracle,

It is taking so long.

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“Moab is my washpot,” says God,

my thorn, of incestuous birth,

and my cleansing bowl.

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Moab is my washpot,

A chosen outsider that I love,

With all of my heart.

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I long to draw him close,

Yet he has pushed me far away.

—

I kneel before God,

Cleansing my past,

Cleansing my generations,

Cleansing the ground on which I stand,

Cleansing the future for my family to come.

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As I prepare a new path,

A new home, a new way,

The heaviness of anger and grief lift.

—

When my loved one returns,

Peace will overcome turmoil,

Love will overcome rage.

—

There will be much pain to be healed,

There will be times of testing,

Times of patience,

Times of re-washing and cleansing,

Times of reconciliation.

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I bless God for the times that Moab rose up,

For we had a mere existence,

An acceptance of the way things were,

Things that were not right.

—

Without Moab, things might never have changed,

Now God can work His will,

In drawing us together,

The way we should have always been,

But couldn’t find the way.

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Thank you God, for the trial of Moab.

 

 

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Written 2-8-2001

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Only By Faith

24 Nov

And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace. Luke 7:50

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By faith stood Abraham,

in the promise of Isaac.

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By grace it came to pass.

overcoming natural life,

birthing a child,

in a lonely golden year.

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Faith took the promise,

and blew life into lifelessness.

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Faith saw Isaac as the sown seed,

laughter come at last,

then grace matured it,

multiplying it.

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Fourteen generations flowed,

from Abraham to David,

through Jacob and Obed,

and Jesse.

—

Fourteen generations flowed from David,

until the carrying away into Babylon,

through Solomon,

through Manasses,

through Josias.

—

Then fourteen more flowed,

from Babylon to Christ,

the Word manifest in flesh,

the Keeper of eternity.

Through Achim,

Eleazar to Jacob,

the father of Joseph,

the husband of Mary,

the mother of Christ.

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By faith did Mary accept the promise,

that grew within her womb.

—

By faith did Joseph accept Mary,

heavy with child,

not of his loins,

not of his love.

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By grace they stood as one,

on a destined night,

the sky brightened,

by the Glory of God,

in the shape of a star,

pointing down to the Son.

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By faith Joseph took Jesus,

adopted now,

into the lineage of Abraham,

adopted now,

as a child of promise.

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By grace Joseph watched,

as He grew to a man,

well before His years.

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Our perfect pattern,

our Shepherd and King.

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Now, by faith, we trust in His Word,

our heritage blessed by driven saints,

and tarnished by those who did evil,

in the sight of the Lord.

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By faith are we accepted,

are we adopted,

into His kingdom,

joint-heirs with Christ,

children of promise,

just as He did,

so long ago.

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By grace will we walk,

in His footsteps,

as best as we are able,

crying out for strength,

for peace, for love.

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By faith we receive all,

grace has promised,

and more,

for only by our limited faith,

can we see into,

God’s limitless plan.

 

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Written 11/8/98

 

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A LITTLE BIT MORE

3 Nov

 I will declare your righteousness and your salvation every day, though I do not fully understand what the outcome will be.  Lord God, I will come in the power of your mighty acts, remembering your righteousness—yours alone.    Psalm 71:15-16

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Lord, in my temptations you hold me,

Thru sorrows and tears You are there.

When all of the world is against me,

I truthfully know that You care.

 

As each day unfolds I find trials,

And burdens to heavy to bare.

I humbly come in Your presence,

And lay them before You in prayer.

 

I’m nothing without You beside me,

You teach me Your words that I share.

When falling, I pray that You’ll guide me,

And I’ll shine just a little bit more.

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Lord, each day you give life new meaning,

My old life’s a memory gone past;

My worldly possessions lose value,

Your love is all that will last.

 

You touch me each morning with fire,

And rivers of water run thru;

I can’t even think of tomorrow,

Without knowing that I have You.

 

You’ve lifted me out of dark shadows,

And endless confusion and strife;

Your mercy and grace has renewed me,

And shown me the beauty of life.

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Lord, now has come time to witness,

And share the beauty I’ve found;

It’s happiness, free for the asking,

Where joy and blessings abound.

 

I’ll teach with honest persuasion,

Myself, an example of praise;

Teaching Your word and Your promise,

Your miracles, works and sound faith.

 

I’ll conquer if You stand beside me,

No enemy dares to cause harm;

Your children will follow in victory,

Wrapped in Your arms safe and warm.

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Written 1991 as a song

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To Know

2 Nov

As thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all.    Ecc 11:5

The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.    John 3:8

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At the breath of dawn

I raise my life to You.

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I feel your warmth,

caressing the weary lines

that etch and pull

at the curves of my face.

—

Your light tenderly penetrates

the closed lids

of my eyes,

beckoning me to see,

far past the visible realm.

—

I raise myself up,

straight and tall,

pleading to you for the strength

I once had

of my own ability.

—

My own strength fails,

as it always has,

but Your strength overcomes

my weakness

as I step out for You.

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I remain in sweet communion,

our spirits touch through

the gift of Your precious Spirit.

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I absorb and regenerate

from the power of joining with You.

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Your anointing oil pours

from the cup of Your desires

to the hope of my will.

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I see what you have called me to,

but understand not.

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I touch the oil that flows

down my garments

and wonder “Why”?

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The oil glistens on my fingertips

as I take it to its appointed work.

—

I question and doubt,

every step of the way,

at why I was chosen for this work;

whether I could truly

make a difference.

—

As I reach the appointed place,

I reach out and touch the life

I’ve been sent to heal.

—

The anointing and the Spirit become one,

coursing through this vessel.

—

The Spirit speaks forth

as virtue flows out

through these fingertips

and into another called of God.

—

After the evening passes

and the shadows of doubt diminish

I return to the dawn

to seek You once again.

—

I so desire to know You,

to understand the plans

You’ve set in motion,

a plan that only you

can comprehend.

—

Forgive me, Lord,

in the dusk of doubt.

—

Help me to know that

my greatest mission

is to carry forth the touch

You have put in my hand,

And to take the steps,

You have placed in my feet.

—

Help me to realize that

all I need to know,

all I need to understand,

is that every move I make

is completely in Your will.

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Written 6-17-99

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STORYTELLER

27 Oct

“But this shall be the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel; After those days, saith the Lord, I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts; and will be their God, and they shall be my people.” Jeremiah 31:33

From the first time I saw the Storyteller, and was told the story behind it, I have wanted one. Storytellers, carved by Native Americans, have one large person at the center, eyes closed and mouth open, and lots of little people all around it, most sitting upon the large person, listening.

In the Native American culture, the Storyteller was usually the oldest person in the tribe, male or female, who taught the history of the tribe to the children. The history was passed from generation to generation by the stories the Storyteller painted.

This little statue has always reminded me of the early Jewish culture, where fathers sat and taught their sons the lineage of their family, the words of God (the Old Testament), and primarily the Torah. The only written reminders of history, for thousands of years, were the scrolls kept in the synagogue and read by the priests to the men of age. It was the duty of the men to teach the family and to help the sons memorize the words on the scrolls.

In today’s culture we are spoiled by inexpensive Bibles, study tools, computer software, audio and video tapes. Bible memorization, other than in Sunday school classrooms, is uncommon, and essentially, not desired.

Why memorize something you can retrieve in a moments notice? The answer – relationship. Intimacy with God is never accomplished through a keyboard and a hard-drive. Intimacy with God is accomplished by knowing his story, knowing it, meditating on it, sharing it (storytelling), by putting it deep within your, and your children’s heart.

Instant coffee, instant food, instant scriptures. Lord, remind me always of the preciousness of Your Word, that I may never take it for granted. Remind me to study and read, day and night, that Your Word will be etched in my heart.

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Written 7-14-2000

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RUNNING AWAY

27 Oct

“Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6

I have been most blessed. God has given me three wonderful boys to love, encourage, and enjoy. Each of them has a strong call of God upon their lives, all in different capacities. We call each one by the name God has placed upon our heart – Pastor Jon, Deacon Eli and Chaplain Paul. In the body of Christ, all positions are of equal importance (1 Cor 12:12), this we have shown them so that neither feels of less importance than the other.

Having children called to the ministry is a tremendous challenge. The challenge isn’t in Bible study or scripture memorization, they strive to meet those desires themselves. The challenge is in recognizing the Spiritual Warfare and the schemes of the enemy that tempt them away from the call God has upon them.

Although there are many stories of miracles and answered prayer for each of them, our greatest challenge has been with our oldest son. He is currently a teenager (written in 2000), raised most of his life in Christian education, but placed into the public school system during the 8th grade, when the Christian school he had been attending closed. Placed in an environment he had never been subjected to, the enemy tempted and attacked, stole and taunted. However difficult these trials were, they couldn’t compare to the luring and wooing that called his name.

With peer pressure and Satan’s enticing whispers, he was drawn into a life we never expected. Although the rejection of family values was difficult for us, it was the running away that tormented our family. Where was he? Was he eating? Did he have a safe place to sleep? Who is he with? Why has he left us? Doesn’t he love us anymore?

Doesn’t he love us anymore? Rejection by your own child. Harsh words and accusations fly about. Why didn’t we see this coming? Only prayer brings us peace, difficult travailing prayer. I can’t begin to explain the depth of emotions a parent goes through in circumstances such as these. Love, hope, anger, hopelessness. Faith, doubt, pain, faith. Sorrow, prayer, memories, trust.

As I prayed one night, I asked God if He could understand the special relationship that grows as you hold that baby, child, young man in your arms and protect him from every possible danger that could come against him – God showed me Jesus, sent to earth to be born in a lowly manger, vulnerable to man, protected by the angels; the same angels that he has sent to watch over my son. I asked God if He could ever understand the pain and the rejection of a child not wanting to be near you, after you’ve been his best friend for most of his life – God showed me Jesus, standing before the crowd, as they chose Barabas to live and Jesus to die. I asked God if He knew what it felt like to sit in your child’s room, empty, hollow, except for the memories that line the walls and shelves – God showed me Golgatha, and Jesus’ lifeless body on the cross. I asked God if He could understand the pain of searching every street, every car, looking closely at every child the same age and build, in hopes of seeing your child, even at a distance – God showed me the people at the cross, dividing Jesus’ clothes, cutting into His lifeless body with a spear, laughing at all He was, void of any righteousness or desire of God. I asked God if He knew what it was like, waiting for the phone to ring or the front door to open, just to hear your child’s voice calling again, waiting , praying – God opened my ears to hear Jesus’ last cry, “Why hast thou forsaken me?”

Yes, He knows. He gave His son willingly, to walk in places of evil that all may be saved, even my son. He gave His son to bring hope, life and peace, knowing the pain and agony His son had to feel before it could be done. He watched as everything His son did was rejected and scorned, even as He lay lifeless. Yes, He knows.

Then God reminded me of the many times I have turned from Him. How many times have I turned my back on the family He has placed me in? How many times have I rejected the values and desires He has placed inside me? How many times have I spoken harsh and hurting words to Him, as I ran away to a world of selfish pleasure? How many times have I simply chosen to be somewhere else instead of in the sweet relationship with my Father? How many times have I put other things, people, places before Him? How many others have done the same?

Forgive us Lord, with your unlimited mercy, for all the times we fell to temptation and disappointed You. Forgive me, Lord, for thinking that You could never understand the pain of a Mother. Remind me that you are in control of all things. Help me to trust You and run back to You all of my days.

 

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Written 7-14-2000

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SWEET FRAGRANCE

15 Oct

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“I will accept you with your sweet savour, when I bring you out from the people, and gather you out of the countries wherein ye have been scattered; and I will be sanctified in you before the heathen.” Ezekiel 20:41

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I love flowers. I could study the simple beauty of a flower for hours – breathing in the gentle aroma that lifts from the petals. I am completely convinced that when God created the Heavens and the earth He knew I was coming and created flowers just for me!

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I most enjoy the age-old garden variety flower; the one with bugs and bees. The kind you can smell without having to bend down and stick your nose in. I grow them in pots at home, as well as in my office. Being blessed with an office window and a door to the outside, I now enjoy the fresh color every time I have to deliver a memo. God is so good!

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This last Mother’s Day I was given a carnation by a local restaurant. It was a beautiful peach color. It immediately brought back memories of buying carnations from the “Flower Children” in the 70’s and 80’s as they held their street corner stations. I quickly buried my nose in the cool petals, but was surprised and dismayed at the absence of its sweet perfume. The was no aroma – no sweetness.

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A few days later I was given a rose boutonniere, left over from an awards presentation. The leaves were perfectly formed, the bud slightly opened – the rich red petals were awesome – but no aroma.

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As beautiful as these two flowers were, there was a hollowness, an incompleteness, like a peach without flavor, or a lamp without light. The first flower I thought was an oddity, but the second was more than coincidence.

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All that week, as I passed retail flower shops, I would stop to smell the flowers – NOTHING!! “Lord,” I prayed, “where is the sweetness You created with this gift? Why is it gone?”

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The answer came as simply as asked, “There is no fragrance without the sun.”

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These plants had been grown in greenhouses, under artificial lights, in special climate controlled conditions. No warmth of the sun, or cool of the night. No rain from Heaven, just processed city water. No fragrance.

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We, too, are like greenhouse flowers. We can be beautiful to look upon, and give the “Impression” of sweetness from a distance, but without the Son, kissing us every day with His soul feeding Word, we have no sweet fragrance. Impressions only last a moment, but beauty, blessed with sweetness, will remain a pleasant memory for a lifetime.

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The Bible refers to our praise and sacrifice as a sweet savor, rising up to the nostrils of God. An eternal pleasure in God’s memory.

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Lord, let me always be a sweet savor in Your thoughts. Remind me, daily, that without the Son, and the gift He gave, there will be no fragrance.

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Written 5-23-00

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STONE BRUISE

15 Oct

 

Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.  Psalm 46:10

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We often fall into sin by such small degrees, that we don’t realize where we are or how we got there. It’s much like having a pebble in your shoe. It’s a little uncomfortable, and you wish it wasn’t there, but not enough to stop and remove the pebble, taking precious time to loosen the laces and shake the shoe out. Instead, we wiggle or shake our foot and move the annoyance to the side where it doesn’t hurt – at least not with every step. Once in a while it gets right under your heel and stops you cold in your steps, but only for a moment. With a quick shake it moves to the side and you’re off again.

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Sin befalls us that way, too. It starts in our life as something that makes us a little uncomfortable, but we shake it to the side and let it be. Every once in a while it stands up and stares us in the face, but we move it aside again and convince ourselves that it isn’t big enough to take the time to remove. Only, it never really goes away – it’s still there, just in a less bothersome place. And the affects of it grow greatly when we bruise our heel or little toe – then it becomes more and more distractive – yet, at the same time, it becomes more and more familiar. And even though it can be quite uncomfortable, we know we would miss the little annoyance that gives us thought throughout the day. After all, it’s just a little pebble. We can toss it out any time we want. Or can we?

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Written 11-22-2001

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QUIET PLACE

15 Oct

“My righteousness is near; my salvation is gone forth, and mine arms shall judge the people; the isles shall wait upon me, and on mine arm shall they trust.” Isaiah 51:5

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Gathered in His arms, resting In His lap.

A daughter held safely in the tender arms of her Father.

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We rock gently, back and forth,

To the song You’ve placed in my heart.

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The warmth of love radiates through me.

It is a preciousness I feel nowhere else.

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And as the pressures of the day begin to push in,

I will step away to a quiet place.

 

I will wrap Your arms around me,

And taste the sweetness of Your love,

That burns always in my heart.

 

 

Written 6-15-2002

 

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HARVEST

13 Oct

 

“For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away:  But the word of the Lord endureth for ever.” 

1 Peter 1:24-25

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We grow each and every day. What we will be as we grow depends upon our parentage – how we will grow and develop depends on what we allow ourselves to be influenced by.

Just as a flower, a rose will always produce a rose, a lily will produce a lily. But the strength and beauty of the plant is shaped by pure and plentiful water, as well as rich and fertile soil. A beautiful plant will wither and die without ever once producing a flower or seed when grown in a harsh dry area. A simple plant can become abundantly beautiful with special care, dropping its precious seed back into the soil as the flower dies, to produce again and again.

We make a choice – every day, every hour, every moment – as to the type of water we allow to be poured over our seed. We choose the stagnation of wicked thoughts and senseless gossip or the pure washing of the Word.

We make a choice of the ground that our seed will fall into. An arid desert where the children of Israel took 40 years to learn the greatness of God – and even then, only the children were allowed to cross over because the roots of the parents were broken off, but still firmly planted back in Egypt.

We make the choice of cultivating the soil with the rich blessings of God, as well as the truths and laws that give a firm foundation to support a healthy root. We make a choice.

Do we grasp our seed tightly in our hand so that no one else can get to it? Do we toss our seed casually aside, allowing it to fall where it will? Or do we place it carefully between our feet, to be guarded and tended until the day we must go on – and it remain.

The seed you hold is not for you. The seed you hold is not just one seed. The seed you hold is the seed of the seed it shall bear, and the seeds they shall bear, and the seeds they shall bear. Have you prepared for the harvest?

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Written 1/2/99

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