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THE LOST

23 Nov

“For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost.”   Luke 19:10

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The road before me seems narrow and unending,

Fear stands before me,

Regret trails behind,

Why must I travel this path?

—

To the right are green pastures,

To the left are mansions of gold,

Yet my feet won’t veer,

Destiny pulls firmly,

Is this the path I walk for me,

Or do I walk for another?

—

Fatigue drains the strength from my bones,

I thirst,

The green pastures call to my desires,

“Rest and Drink,”

Forward I walk, determined.

—

Mansions of gold call my name,

Fulfilled dreams, riches,

Reason fights the Spirit,

Think what I could do with all these,

What lives I could touch,

Forward I walk – steady.

—

Those who call me loved bite angrily at my sides,

Bitter words echo in my mind,

Must love hurt,

Throbbing starts in my palms,

In my feet.

—

Who must I walk this path for?

Is it for You?

Is it for me?

Is it for lives yet to be touched?

—

Forward, Lord, place Your hand in mine,

Let me walk in Your footsteps,

Let me see Your path,

Let me lay aside my selfish dreams,

So that I may reach the broken soul,

That sits at the side of the path,

That You have sent me to travel.

—

Anoint me, Lord,

With wisdom, with love, with peace,

That I may overcome the burden,

That You have placed in my life,

To reach the lost – for You.

—

Written 4-2-2004

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Jesus Looks Beyond

23 Nov

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Jeremiah 29:11

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I’ve never thought much about my abilities, but my inabilities come up and sting me all the time. As I age and become more “wise” I discover that my physical abilities and stamina wan. How could I possibly make a difference in God’s Kingdom; I can’t even open my own water battle half the time.

I think of great people who have made an incredible impact on God’s people; the sacrifices they made, the changes that took place because they took a stand and reached out to hurting people. I see Mother Teresa holding dying people in Calcutta and Billy Graham standing at a podium, speaking to tens of thousands of people about God’s glory. I see A. A. Allen standing in a faith so strong that he laid hands on the hopelessly ill and they became whole. I see Kathryn Kuhlman’s faith and the lives that she touched. How could I ever make a difference in God’s Kingdom; I have nothing? God, how can I make a difference?

I spent time watching these great people on YouTube clips and it all became very clear to me. Each person we call “great” were simple people who recognized their own frailties and inabilities. They were available humble vessels who believed in the power of God to do all things. They realized that in and of themselves, they were nothing – just like me.

God, let me always remember that I am nothing more than an empty vessel, filled with the Holy Spirit. Help me to realize that although I am nothing, when yielded to your plan and guidance, miracles can happen. In my inability, God, You can build a church.

 

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Written 1-14-2010

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DETERMINATION

22 Nov

Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.    Ephesians 6:13

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In the area where I live we have huge black ravens, much larger than the hens in my chicken coop. When we first moved here we were in awe of them as several would group by the side of the road taking care of an unfortunate rodent left lifeless by the wheels of a car.

Having one quite small child, the older boys decided they would make it a point to keep a close eye on him at all times, lest 2 or 3 of those ravens took a notion to carry him away. Jon is now big enough to fend for himself – but over the years we’ve heard many stories of missing kittens, chicks and puppies at the strong and powerful claws and wings of the ravens. Many wish they could banish the threats to the mini-farms in the area, but the ravens are protected birds because of their scavenger lifestyles and the service they do to the community by cleaning up the roadways and fields of carrion.

This time of the year, a little past spring but not into the hottest of summer, the birds are making their nests, laying eggs and tending to hatchlings. Crisp morning songs fill the air and faint shrill chirps announce new life. I sat on my porch with a steamy cup of tea, enjoying my time with Jesus, when I heard the loud deep “Caw” of the raven and sharp screeching of a smaller bird. There in front of me flew the duo – big black bird in the lead and the smaller bird behind – diving at the raven and pecking him hard on the back. Across, as far as I could see, this continued – “Caw” – shriek – attack– “Caw” – shriek – attack.

That momma bird was not going to allow that predator to take the treasures of her nest – even though she was less than 1/10th the size. Nothing could stop the instinctive determination of that momma bird – even though the raven was easily strong enough to turn around and destroy the threat that pursued it.

My, my, my – would I have done the same? When an overwhelming spirit of evil shadows my life, do I look at the size and the “apparent” hopelessness of the situation and give up my chance to stand? Do I remember the words of God that tells me “He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.” (PS 91:4-6) and that “No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD . . .“ (IS 54:17). That “If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.” (Mt 17:20). That if I had the determination of a small momma bird – no predator could displace the tiniest twig of my nest.

Jesus, help me to meditate night and day on Your promises, knowing that they are not only for others, but also for me. Keep my feet strong in adversity and when I have all that I know to do to stand, that yet still I WILL stand.

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Written 6-14-07

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GENTLE SPIRIT

19 Nov

But the Lord said unto him, Go thy way: for he is a chosen vessel unto me, to bear my name before the Gentiles, and kings, and the children of Israel: Acts 9:15

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Oh, Jesus,

work through this vessel.

Spread peace through this church,

settle your children.

Precious Jesus,

precious Jesus.

 

Close you eyes church,

listen with your spirits,

listen with your souls.

Do you hear it?

Do you feel it?

Gentle Spirit blow.

 

Feel the cool breeze,

flowing between the saints.

Feel the billow of His robe

caressing you cheek as He passes by.

 

Reach out to Him,

reach out.

He hesitates a moment,

He turns and touches the tips

of Your outstretched fingers.

Only a moment,

the gentlest touch.

 

What Heaven.

What joy.

What peace.

 

Blow, gentle Spirit.

Touch your children.

Precious Jesus,

precious Jesus.

—

Written July 15, 1993

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GENTLE

19 Nov

 

“And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.”  Mark 4:39

The Holy Spirit, what delightful sensations.

 

Like standing enveloped in a dense morning fog, the sound of the world is nearby, but the cool, moist blanket keeps you at peace and detached.

 

Like being snuggled inside a warm woolen blanket; covered head to toe.

 

Protected from the sharp bitter cold; warmly – softly held.

 

Like floating in a cool river on a dry, warm day.  The harsh, sharp noises filtered and replaced by the sound of rushing water.

 

And yet, like electricity surging from every point in your body, shooting to the center and then out through the top.

 

Sending you boldly, without fear, to complete the task at hand.

 

Oh, Holy Spirit. Gentle us today.

 

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Written 5/25/92

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DEAD BRANCHES

19 Nov

 

”But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.” Matthew 18:6 (KJV)

 

Many years ago we experienced a winter far colder than any other I had experienced. Lakes frozen over, streets frozen over, chunks of ice were inches thick on the electrical and telephone wires all over town. People couldn’t drive their cars up the steep streets of Prescott, AZ. Police officers were turning lines of cars around in an attempt to reduce further accidents. It was COLD!

 On a warm afternoon, several months later, I was enjoying a quiet moment on my front porch. There was a light breeze blowing and suddenly a large branch fell out of our tree in the front yard. The tree was beautiful green and full with leaves. There wasn’t any sign of dead branches, until this one fell.

 I wandered over and looked up into the tree. It looked green and healthy. I looked from a different angle; green and . . . oh, wait, what was the brown in the middle? I brought over a ladder and looked closer – dead branches. There were a number of dead branches broken loose from the tree, being held in place by the new growth, waiting for a wind to set them loose. I suspect that these branches were broken loose by the heavy ice that had rested there in the months before. I pulled a few of the branches out and left those that were out of easy reach.

 It made me think about new Christians and how they have broken and wounded spirits that are hiding in their newly born lives. Lives full of enthusiasm and desire to grow with Jesus, covering over the brokenness and wounds that first drew them to Jesus. They look fresh and beautiful on the outside, hiding the pain inside.

 So many times we rejoice with their salvation and ignore the task set before us to help them grow. We often think they’ll find their own way to their faith and the truth. We might “toss” a scripture their way if they ask a specific question or two, but don’t get too involved in explaining what it means. After a while they become discouraged and disappear.

These “Babies” need someone to come along and embrace them, pray with them, teach them to let go and allow the pain and wounds to drop away through the healing of Jesus. Like us, they are called to be fountains of living water. They are to grow and be pruned by the Master, just like we were. They will be shaken clean by the winds of trial. Their roots will grow strong with dedicated study, prayer and intercession. But, only if we will teach them how.

 What sort of witness are we if we spend our time preening ourselves and not guiding them along the way? Do we allow them to be tossed by the winds of doctrine, or do we show them how to receive the wind of the Spirit and the healing Word of God? Do we allow them to wander and be confused by tempting spirits, or do we teach them to discern and recognize the truth? Do we brush away the dead branches we can easily see and leave the deepest, furthest away to remain? Or do we dedicate our works to intercession and instruction, so that they can recognize the things in their lives that they have the authority to cleanse away themselves. Do we care?

 God, help me to never forget how confused and lost I was when I first came to You. Help me to remember the outstretched hands and dedicated prayers that lead me to a strong knowledge of You. Help me remember how strong the pull was to give up and walk away when things just didn’t make sense, and the joy of breaking through with a well guided word and a moment of encouragement. Help me to be the example to help others find true relationship with You.

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By Linda J. Humes

Written 10-1-2012

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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.

—

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.

—

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.

—

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.

—

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.

—

I remain in sweet communion,

our spirits touch through

the gift of Your precious Spirit.

—

I absorb and regenerate

from the power of joining with You.

—

Your anointing oil pours

from the cup of Your desires

to the hope of my will.

—

I see what you have called me to,

but understand not.

—

I touch the oil that flows

down my garments

and wonder “Why”?

—

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.

—

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.

—

Written 7-14-2000

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Simple Peace

27 Oct

And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to the which also ye are called in one body; and be ye thankful. Colossians 3:15 (KJV)

This has been a most unnerving year. Going back to college has opened my eyes to a side of life I was completely unaware of. I had to fight to maintain my faithful fruits and pray continuously to be able to explain why my faith is correct and true.

At the same time we were preparing our home for sale; packing those things that made our home personally ours, those little treasures and comforts that mean so much. All of this culminated at its highest peak in December, a week before the celebration of the Birth of my Lord.

With packing for a move and sorting out what to take and what to leave, we gave away our Christmas tree; we figured we’d already be moved by Christmas.

Shopping was all last minute with a minimal budget. I was overwhelmed and frazzled with each stop; people pushing, crowding, blocking the aisles, children crying and screaming, adults screaming and threatening; I just wanted to hide and let Christmas go by without me. Depression stepped in.

Sunday before Christmas came and the children were doing their program that morning. The adult worship team was going to sing a few songs and as we practiced the children were being transformed into angels. It all seemed so mechanical, lacking Jesus.

I had to get something out of the prayer room. When I opened the door I walked into a tiny forest of Christmas trees, simply decorated and set there to make room for the Children’s set. I stopped. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the trees. The depression and tension lifted. Jesus! Jesus! Over and over I heard his name. He had come as a baby, announced by a star.

Memories of past Christmas trees flooded my mind. Nativity, ornaments, angels, a star on the top, Christmas carols honoring my Lord. I hadn’t realized how much a tree meant to me. I hadn’t realized how much the tree spoke to me of Jesus. I hadn’t realized the peace of sitting at the base of a lit Christmas tree brought, lights twinkling, glowing in wonderful colors in a darkened room. All the story of Christmas played in my mind.

We borrowed one of those little trees to put our presents around, just a simple tree. It was a small symbol reminding me to thank God for sending His son as a tiny vulnerable baby; a baby that would hunger, be cold, be hot, be confused and filled with awe, just like us. It was a tiny baby, humbled by a simple birth, honored with my Christmas tree. This baby would one day give His life for me. Thank you Abba Father.

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By Linda J. Humes

Written 12-27-09

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