Tag Archives: Empty

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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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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SPIRIT OF MAN

22 Sep

“The spirit of man is the candle of the Lord, searching all the inward parts of the belly.”  Proverbs 20:27


Lord, can you see

the death within 

the fallen man?



Has the light,

You've placed,

inside his soul,

dimmed from the absence,

of the anointing oil?



Does his inward parts,

grow dark and empty,

from the absence of you?



Where did the oil go?

Did it slowly burn away,

when used on goodly projects,

void of Godly seed?



Did it burn rapidly away,

on endless nights,

of busy details,

none birthed for the kingdom,

only for the furtherance,

of man?



Did the glow leave,

so slowly,

that no one noticed,

the warmth in the depths of the eyes,

was replaced by cold,

hallow, loneliness?



Once cold, 

did the soul embrace the emptiness,

and call it home;

explaining the way back,

is too difficult?



Is there yet a hope, 

a small smoldering bud,

that a new flame,

could grow,

even brighter,

than the first?



Replenish the oil,

in this vessel, Lord,

that when the nights grow so weary,

I will draw closer to the flame,

and into Your light.



Let there be such an abundance,

that the light within me,

will show into the eyes,

of one so cold.



Let the oil flow,

so heavily,

from my anointing,

that it will flow from my prayers,

through the depths of Jesus,

and into another's life.



Let me always be a light,

to lift the darkness,

in another's soul.

 

Written 7-28-99

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PARADISE

14 Jul

“And I heard a great voice out of Heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God.”  Rev. 21:3

Recently I’ve been making weekly overnight trips for work.  I drive 3 hours in, work 8 and then off to rest. A friend has arranged for me to use her guesthouse on these trips, what a blessing.  This house is perfectly decorated, country comfortable. Everything perfectly matches, from the curtains to the coffee cups. It’s like walking into a paradise in the midst of a big bustling city.

You can see the love and care spent in providing every comfort, from aesthetics to bed pillows.  Drinking glasses are perfectly lined. Plates and bowls set in order. Every utensil is in its assigned spot.  Pictures of things that take you to a different place and time are placed just so, giving the feeling of home. It’s just exactly what I’ve always hoped to have.

I ate my take-out meal and headed for the luxury of a bubble bath, a precious commodity for any working mom.  Off I slipped to bed for a completely undisturbed sleep. AAAAHHHH!!!!

I woke early and brewed my morning coffee.  I sipped and listened for the signs and sounds of morning.  I had no idea that silence could be so loud.

There were no roosters crowing, no husband snoring, no dogs harmonizing.  There were no shoes to step over, no children squabbling over the bathroom, no cat curled in my spot on the sofa.  There was no peanut butter on the counter, no jelly on the floor sticking to the bottom of my feet. The radios weren’t playing and the washing machine wasn’t running.  There were no sounds of life. No laughter, no anger – no joy, no frustration. It was a beautiful, empty shell.

I packed up all my traveling gear and prepared to leave.  I went back through, room by room, to make sure I’d left this paradise in the same condition as when I’d arrived.  Picture perfect!

Picture perfect!  Hhhhmmm? Isn’t that what we can be?  We walk out of our homes perfectly attired; matching outfit, shoes and accessories – carefully primped and combed, not a hair out of place.  We even spray our favorite fragrance to make a perfectly, well-rounded picture of – of what?

So often we see people who seem so perfect on the outside, but inside they are going mad with the echoes of silence.  Some are tortured by the voices of the past, some by the enemy of their souls, telling them to give up their future – they’ll never be “perfect” enough.  They overcompensate with exterior perfection to try to fill the hole left inside – by the absence of Jesus.

How many times do we walk past those who seem to have it “all together” and reach out to those in obvious need?  How many of those “perfect people” long for someone to stop long enough to tell them how to fill their emptiness?  Do we only look at the outward perfection and miss the eyes that search for answers? Do we share a greeting and not listen for the cries of help in their passing replies?  

Jesus, help me to hear those cries.  Help me to see the emptiness you are ready to fill.  Let me never assume that a perfect house equals a home –  but that every vessel created by You can only be perfected when Your Holy Spirit fills it.  Come Lord Jesus.

 

Written 8-31-05

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WAX MUSEUM

7 Oct

wax-museum-welcome-sign1

(THE EYES OF THE HOPELESSLY DEAD)

 The light of the body is the eye: therefore when thine eye is single, thy whole body also is full of light; but when thine eye is evil, thy body also is full of darkness.                                                                                   Luke 11:34

Vacations are interesting entities.  They are times when you spend money you know better than to spend and visit places that you may have only had a vague interest in previously.

In our family, vacations are a valued commodity that arrive only once every 3 – 4 years.  It’s a time when we have saved and set aside so that we can travel off for a day or two and leave everything behind for someone else to care for.  This year was our year of VACATION – August 1999!!

We had been given our hotel room as a gift and part of that gift included tickets to the Movieland Wax Museum.  None of us had ever been to a wax museum – however, none of us had ever really been over-enthusiastic about going either.  But, it was vacation!  A time to see something new!  A time to . . . well, you know.

At first, I was intrigued by the replicas; life-size dolls, the exact size of a famous movie star, wearing the original costume from a movie or an article of clothing from the movie star’s personal wardrobe – or so they claim.

The tour began with the older movies.  What took me by surprise was the size of the stars.  The women were so tiny, petite (to compensate for the 20 extra pounds the camera add, I suspect).  Jean Harlow, Bette Davis, Kathryn Hepburn – all movie greats, up close and personal.

Then there were the men.  Characters that loomed so large on the screen were trim young men, not much taller than myself.  The illusion of grandeur diminished.  The overwhelming feeling of awe was reduced.  They were just people.  People who struggled with self-esteem and the pressures of fame.  People, just like me, who tried to juggle work and family and (prayerfully) devotions.

As I continued the tour I recognized depression setting over me.  Why, Lord?  What are you showing me that I can’t see?

“Look at them,” He said, “carefully.”

I began to look into the faces – past the aging clothing, the dusty sets, the fading make-up, and a few missing fingers.  I stood in one spot and turned a full circle, looking carefully into the eyes of the replicas.

“There’s nothing, Lord, nothing!”

And that was it!  Deep in the eyes was the absence of the soul.  They were exact replicas of the bodies of men – void of love, hate, joy, dreams and visions.  It was a morgue of dead bodies, dressed up to entertain people.

I walked through the “horror” section and felt nothing.  Even with the sound tracks playing in the background of some of the sets, there was nothing.  The eyes were dead and blank.  There were no demons, no tormented souls, no hate, no raging insanity.  They were the eyes of the hopelessly dead.

After leaving the museum I searched the face of every person I saw.  The daily anguish, joy and stresses were there.  It slowly relieved my depression.  It gave me new hope and a fresh battleground.  For in the tormented eyes there is hope for salvation.  In joy there is peace and encouragement for tomorrow.

No matter what the tormented soul is screaming out through the eyes – as long as there is life, there is an opportunity for Jesus to enter in.

Lord, let me always remember that every face I see could belong to a soul of little time.  Give me the courage to change the demons that dance in those eyes, before they become the eyes of the hopelessly dead.

 

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