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Thursday, October 20, 2011
Words
Hot coffee brewed dances with the chill of this old house
I in my pajamas while they lay snuggled in their beds
My mind wanders adrift
Drifters on the street without enough to eat
Hand me downs an occasional new pair of shoes
Addictions misfortunes life settled down hard on shoulders
I write
Erase
Click
Delete
My thoughts still linger there
The bridge the lives the tears they cry until hearts turn cold from cold shoulders turned
I sit listening to the settling sounds of this house the foundation settles in my mind
A few pay checks separates me from them
I write these words while he is on the streets sharing Jesus
Souls hunger
Mine cries out
Escaping the loneliness
cemented
in
my
mind
Words.. Breathed..
Beneath bridges
Cold air lingers
Between us
What do I have to share?
Words?
What will feed their souls and not wear out too quickly under their feet
66 love letters.. Verses.. God breathed.. Words.
His Word
I may not have a coat to share or extra money to give but I know..
Where the bread is
That feeds souls
Leather binds them waiting to spill out
Dance with my thoughts
Exceed the aroma of coffee
Warm this house
Words
His word
Feeds souls
Changes lives
Saves.
Today, I thank God for the chill in the air, the coffee I drink and for His words that float through my mind sink in my heart and feed my soul.
Who are you feeding today?
Friday, October 14, 2011
Everyday Moments
She stands tall on tippy toes with her hands raised high to the sky twirling down every isle for all eyes to see. My three old ballerina dances steps in front of me.
I pick out our favorite clusters of oats with tastes of honey and turn to her and warn her that she might get dizzy. She giggles as she falls to the ground. Not a care in the world just me, a shopping cart and my two little girls.
The other lays sound asleep in her car seat only five months old. In the beginning stages of exploring this world and at 30 I can say, I am too.
We make our way past the vegetable oil, spices and cake mixes. I notice my ballerina no longer spinning in circles instead she is holding a large pack of flour. I tell her we really don't need it as I place it back on the shelf. She promptly crosses her arms, presses her lips tight and stomps loudly through the store.
I watch her and feel relieved for this is a small victory. Gone are the days of falling out on the ground, crying alligator tears and raising her voice loud for all to hear. A small victory today as she stomps away.
Twenty minutes later and the shopping cart is full. I grab some last minute items rechecking our list. She smiles and says, "Thank you mommy" as I place fruit in the cart.
I pause, I see Him. He stands within each step I take, lacing together each victory I see Him today.
We make our way to the slow moving line and its then I realize so much life is done in this store. So many stories are formed in these isles. I imagine Him standing right next to me, watching me and my girls guiding as life unfolds.
We exchange silent words waiting in line. I thank Him for these moments and He says He is proud of me.
We make our way through the line and out of the store. With my girls buckled tight and groceries in the back I begin see Him and how He is intertwined in my life. I see Him in everyday moments.
So often I get tripped up in wanting an amazing miracle a great move of God that I forget He walks with me through isles, guides me as I parent and blesses me. These everyday moments are the miracles I have craved.
I release a small sigh of relief as look in my review at my ballerina looking back at me. She forms a big smile revealing one dimple while her small voice speaks of her love for me.
My heart melts as He wraps His arms around me. I marinade in the moment before moving the car in reverse. Jesus is with us every day, in every moment and every step along the way.
Have you stopped to see Him today?
Sharing with Brag on God Fridays and Spiritual Sundays.
I also added this post to a wonderful online mosaic glorifying God. Through our words we paint a beautiful picture of who He is in our lives and over the next two years we will join together forming a master piece with Him and for Him. Would you join us and share some of your post?
Please visit the link below to view the mosaic. Have a blessed weekend!
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Jesus Loves
He tells me He guides him right where he needs to be. Turn by turn walking through the streets, praying for spirits that are in need. He speaks to him, covers him and walks with him.Jesus loves him.
He tells me of a group of youth flags hanging out of their pockets. Not representing stars and stripes instead they are colors, territory, a street family. The enemy echoes in his mind, “Don’t approach.” Courage wins the battle as he steps toward the crowd when many wouldn’t come close. They speak of a loss a friend just died. In mourning their spirits cried. A man and a group of youth bowed their heads and prayed. Jesus sees past the flags, the territory and the streets.
Jesus loves them.
Traveling in a city states away he sits next to another man not much older than him. Liquor stained breath, dirty clothes and his hand reaching up asking for change. He sits next to him unafraid. He has no earthly change to give. He asks him if he knows who Jesus is. The homeless raises his hands and says my Savior. The gospel isn’t spoken the hearts of the two men already know. He reminds him Jesus loves him no matter where he is. Two men, two different yet oh so similar paths of life join in prayer and Jesus stands near. Tears are shed. The dirty clothes and liquor stained breath disguise the man that Jesus knows.
Jesus loves him.
He tells me of another woman on the streets asking for money so her kids can eat. Only a few dollars are in his hand. He asks her if she knows who Jesus is. She replies rewinding her life to better times. In the voice of a child she questions, “Didn’t He die for me?” Life has dealt her hard knocks as she promptly turns to leave. His eyes well up feeling for a moment our Father grieve. Not knowing what to say succumbed by emotions she turns away. The child in her knows while the woman abused on the streets struggling to survive covers herself in layers of this world. Jesus sees her.
Jesus loves her.
He tells me of three shooting dice on a corner for all to see. The streets are rough life is hard and not all want to hear The Word. He approaches asking if they know Jesus. The three men halt their craps game they listen intrigued. He draws a crowd. Who is this man? Their spirits cry out loud. He tells me he gets discouraged when people walk away as he recalls the one who throws his head back snorting coke just as he turns around. I remind him of the three that accepted Jesus that night in the streets. The three, the crowd, even the one with white powder on his hands, He knows them.
Jesus loves them.
I hear his stories his work after work while on the road. I flip through the channels catching glimpses of Kim’s Fairytale wedding for the second time. I don’t have to wonder if this is entertainment or wasted minutes. I turn the TV off and slide his ring on my finger, proud of my husband. We laugh as he says he is turning into the crazy man on the streets preaching about Jesus for all to see. I remind him, Jesus holds his hand and Jesus called him.
Jesus loves him.
I wonder how life would be. If we all turned off our TV’s, muted the craziness that drives our lives and not make a sound. How would it be if we, followers, actually listened and were obedient to Him? Could we slow down enough and put ourselves aside? Could we swallow our pride? Approach a crowd with flags hanging from pockets on their backside? Hold a dirty hand, give more than money to a beggar or simply choose to stop wasting our time? He reminds me greater works will be done and I look around for some. He says, “Look within”. He sees us, sitting behind computer screens flipping through smart phones. He watches us closely, quietly whispering rise up be all I created you to be. He knows us.
Jesus loves us.
Jesus calls us.
Are you going to answer the call?
{Image Credit}
Friday, October 7, 2011
Letters, Numbers And Jesus
The walls received a fresh coat of paint while newly laid tile made pathways through hallways lined with tall wooden doors. I heard high heels click the shades of brown on the ground. Thankful for 90 degree weather, flip flops and feet that are free.Walking down the corridor I imagined filled classrooms, little hands raised and voices on a level one. Ah.. if only I could teach my children how to use a level one at home.
Just a few turns before we make it to the room. Brightly colored decor, large dancing letters and free flying numbers high on the wall. Miniature chairs in primary colors and papers stacked neatly on the teachers desk.
"Please, have a seat", she said. I closely examined the miniature chair deciding quickly whether or not it would hold me.
Conversations consumed of alphabets and sounds, numbers and books. Gone are the days of kindergarten for me, but my running back who scores touchdowns for Jesus runs these halls freely.
The conversation turned as his teacher suddenly said, "Thank you."
The two words somersaulted through my head as I wondered what I had done. Before I could question she answered, "Thank you for not putting him in a private school. Public schools need children like him."
She immediately recalled a time when he walked by her desk and asked her if she knew Jesus. She responded, "Yes, He is my friend." His face must have filled with joy as he quietly whispered, "He is my friend too."
My heart swelled as I remembered that day too and how he ran off the bus and exclaimed, "Momma, Ms. Nichols knows Jesus! Isn't that so cool?"
She told me how he talks about Jesus everyday. He writes stories about Him and shares adventures of flying high through cloud filled blue skies with Him by his side.
Two adults sitting in miniature chairs with rising childlike faith all because of a baby boy not on this earth more than 2000 days.
I left the parent teacher conference realizing that the school of life consists of more than numbers, letters, paint and music. I left knowing that my child holds the hand of Jesus, walks with Him daily and shares the good news in ways only a five year old can.
I brag on God today for He never ceases to amaze me. While His word may be hidden deep within our hearts His light shines bright throughout each day.
Sharing with Brag On God Friday and Spiritual Sundays
{Photo Credit}
Thursday, October 6, 2011
I Weep
If I could beat my thoughts upon Your chest I would clinch my fist tight and prepare for the fight.With tears streaming down furiously I try to grasp You and fall right into You.
I land at Your feet spirit curled in disbelief.
My God my world collapsing I don’t know whether to fight or cling to You.
I curl under the warmth of Your wings You accept me as I am, a million pieces shattered.
On display under Your grace You hold me imperfectly this way.
I want to stay broken for a minute release the pain dripping from my eyes as I release silent cries.
I plea with the potters hand leave me this way, No fix me! Just don’t allow my heart to bleed for too long.
I curl tighter at Your feet under Your wings.
I love You. I am mad at You. I yell at You. I talk to You. I clinch my fist. I raise my hands and worship You.
You watch. You listen. You cradle. You mold. You allow me to weep.
I don’t have to tell You her age, how many grandchildren she had or that I was her oldest. Her oldest.
I have told You plenty how You took her from me. Your reply, “I give rest to the weary.”
I weep. At Your feet under Your wings I weep.
You swipe my cheek, open a new jar and listen to me.
You shower Your grace upon me like sprinkles of gold. My spirit You mold.
Broken. Incomplete. You breathe new life into me.
Sharing with Imperfect Prose
{Image Credit}
Monday, October 3, 2011
Truth Is
Truth is.. I hide behind carefully chosen words typed, edited, and submitted on a screen. I hide behind the same screen when it comes to stepping out and showing the world who He created me to be.
I am not worthy and I hide my desires, my dreams and my visions beneath the layers of this dusty world. Consumed by my unworthiness I forget how worthy He is, I bury it deep beneath fear of failing.
Truth is.. I hear Him day and night. He calls out to me as He does you. He nudges me when I don’t listen. I hear Him. I hear His call. I ignore it afraid I won’t fill the shoes and I will fall. Fall down in front of many.
I dislike the break in church when we are encouraged to greet someone new. I’d rather type my words and hide behind a screen. I like to pick, choose and delete comments. I’m not ready for criticism from anyone other than Him.
Truth is.. While walking through grief, stumbling through piles of insulation and inching my way home on torn rubber I forgot to move my lips and praise Him. I chose to sit with tears running down my face. The burden was heavy, the pain cut deep so I made up my mind I’d rather not move.
I fight through unclear thoughts but still.. I hear Him. He tells me I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I question the potter and His hands, shaping me even though He tells me He knows me by name. And if He knows the number of hairs on my head I wonder if He knew I would write this too?
Truth is.. I love Him. I love Him so much the tears stream down my face when I feel I have grieved Him and I'm losing at this race. I love Him and He loves me. He accepts me, molds me and carries me. He died for me. I see Him there, crown of thorns nailed to a cross dying for me. How could I doubt His love?
I am imperfect. I question. I hesitate. I have resisted showing the world let alone the person sitting in church next to me who I really am. Whoever I may be? The words that dance in my head and want to pour out of my soul I keep them confined. Prisoner of my thoughts suffocating my mind. I bite my tongue and press my thin lips tight. Careful of what might spill out. I am imperfect.
Truth is.. I saw a chain linked fence. A representation of what binds me. It was tall and strong but I could see through it. With hands combined He will join us in the midst destroying the fence creating a great escape. Why do I fear His calling whispered in my ears? When I can see through the chains of this world? I can see what binds me and I can be free if I choose to be.
I allow the words of the world to keep me from my destiny. I have allowed the enemy to get the best of me. But my God and His Word are amazing. When I look over the lies of this world, I see Him speaking to me. The words peek through with boldness, moving, reassuring and motivating me. Imperfect I am yet, He chose me! I am redeemed.. I am free!
Truth is.. I hide who He created me to be beneath fear of failing in front of many. I’m not ready for criticism so I’d rather not move. But still I hear Him. He tells me I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I love Him and He loves me. I question. I hesitate. I am imperfect. I can see what binds me and I have allowed the enemy to get the best of me. But my God and His Word are amazing. Imperfect I am yet, He chose me! I am redeemed.. I am free!
Sharing with Soli Deo Gloria
Thursday, September 29, 2011
We Dance
The black and whites play softly. Each note breaks through the stillness creating a warm intimacy. Voices start to sing an effortless praise. I close my eyes, lift my hands and melt in the moment.
A voice interrupts, “May I have this dance?”
Hesitation creeps in. Do I even know the steps? Without asking out loud He answers, “I will teach you.”
His hand reaches out to me as I slowly accept His invitation.
I feel His warmth as I fall into Him. I can feel Him stir from within me.
Trying to hold my composure I focus on the beat. I hear the voices multiply creating a beautiful harmony.
My heart cries, don’t stumble. He says, “Don’t worry, if you fall I will lift you back up. Trust me. Follow my steps.”
His word whispers from within reassuring me as I try to mirror Him. A flawed reflection.
The closer I get the more of Him I inhale. His fragrance lingers in the air, sticking to my clothes and every strand of my hair.
Surrounded by many we dance. I am learning. I am growing with each step. Each step that shadows His.
The keys strike, the drums clash a thousand voices join in praise.
I am unaware of those who watch, unaware of others who have joined. Surrounded by many yet this moment defines perfect intimacy.
I feel Him from within. Stirring, holding, and guiding me.
I trust.
I am longer in control for it is Him who takes the lead.
He leads my feet, my life and my spirit.
We Dance.
I am so thankful for the opportunity to dance. I might not know all of the steps and I may fall, but I am thankful for the hand that is upon my life that reaches out to me. I am thankful that He leads.
Are you learning to dance? Have you lost all control and let Him take the lead?
Sharing with Thankful Thursday, Thought Provoking Thursday and Spiritual Sundays
{Image Credit}
