Quiet has taken to hiding lately. Overpowered by rush, noise and heavy sighs. Quiet arrived today wrapped as a gift. When was the last time this stillness rested here? Perhaps it is only here for moments. I will gladly take them and guard them. My spirit and Quiet reaquaint themselves today. They are kindred partners so often robbed of time to intertwine and move in tandum. Together they produce rest and restoration. These two so fitted for each other, so capable of wiping away days and months of noise, they are divinely united. Without Quiet I overlook, rationalize and suppress things which are in the greatest need of tending to. Life swells around me gaining a false sense of importance, insisting on a lofty position in His throne room. Quiet reminds me in the gentlest of tones that there are greater things, more important things that I alone hold the responsibility for...that I alone neglect. I am thankful for the still, the Quiet and the rest. I give You thanks and praise for all the ways You speak to me, for all the love You lavishly pour out on me.

In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength...Isaiah 30:15

What would it look like if we understood the magnitude of Your presence? What would it look like if, when we asked for you to be with us, we actually believed in the vast, immeasurable power that would dwell in our presence? Do we give way to grave injustice when our mindseye imagines only the lovely, tender side of You or the rescue-provider appearing in our time of need? What if we called on your name and trembled in Holy fear, fully understanding that we have just summoned power beyond human imagination? Power that is beyond containment. Power that can create and destroy with a word, much less a hand, that would demand a life in exchange for just once glance of it in it’s fullness. What if we recognized this power all around us? Is creation not a manifestation of this power harnessed into a spoken Word? Is man not proof of this power let loose in a Holy Breath? Is not the resurrection all power amassed, conquering death? Why do we choose to weakly ask for Your presence and expect an only slightly stronger delivery of it? Help us know this in the deepest recesses of our heart. Help us know that when we call on Your name, there IS NO higher power. No one greater, stronger, wiser, larger, more capable, encompassing, awe inspiring, more HOLY than You. A room cannot contain You. A situation cannot contain You, a temple or sanctuary cannot contain Your majestic, overwhelming Presence and Power. Help us ask with full expectation. Help us feel it in our spirits. Hold us while we wait.

....(14)these are just the beginning of all that he does, merely a whisper of His power. Who, then, can comprehend the thunder of His power?" Job 26:1-14

I am full today. Full of your Word and full of anticipation that You are here, dwelling deeply. I wait, on the brink of a rush that wells in my racing heart. Confession steps up, admitting to what You already know. Holy devotion stands stagnant, pooled and stilled. Countless are the wasted precious moments with You. Countless are the victories I have handed over in my own power. Countless are the infiltrations which have rooted in this mind. All rising from a stagnant life of devotion. Perhaps it is not as stagnant as I believed it to be. Perhaps the devotion has been diverted to other less worthy affections. Truth pierces. Light shins in darkness.

I sense Your Spirit moving with gentle momentum. My soul sighs in relief, recognizing it's Savior, ever in relentless pursuit. Never allowing me to go too far, but always laying the choice in my hands. Revelation and recognition rain down by Your grace. The stillness of the water is broken under the weight of heavy drops. Like the water, my soul is stirred. Anticipation wells and I recognize this thirst and hunger for You. I find myself deeply longing for You. Trembling heart, trembling mind, longing for Your presence. You come as Comfort, Revelation, Purpose and You reorder everything into it's proper place of submission, at Your Holy, Worthy feet. Why does this ransomed heart so greatly love to wander beyond Your boundaries? Your mercy overwhelms me. It brings me to a posture of complete reverence. I am consumed with thanks, recognizing even this small offering cannot come close to what You deserve. Somewhere, deeply within me, my entire being lifts up praise to You and somehow, I know You understand it and receive it. It is praise as I imagine it to be in eternity, free from the heart sick state I dabble in. Oh, Holy Father, in Your arms I find myself. I am reminded where it all begins and ends, in You.

Seek the LORD while HE may be found; call upon Him while He is near.

Isaiah 55:6

It's a new day, but the sun does not announce it in glory. Instead it is ushered in by rain and dark. It's heavy outside and I relate, tired and heavy in thought. I'm wondering how when you walked this earth You served so many... tireless,with a steady heart of obedience and passion?

What would it take for me to serve in this heart state? I'm wishing my first response would always be yes, with obedience and passion. I'm wishing my first response would never be sin. I find myself there too often. This love of mine flows free with intention, yet walks itself out with much more stumbling.

You are training this heart to be a first responder. To hear you and to move. To be your image bearer. To question less and serve more. A life layed down is free for taking up, by your mighty hands. Father keep me far from rationalization. Appearances deceive. Your power shows up when there seems to be no strength, no time, no desire, no heart. How much more would it show if this life was just layed down in total submission? Give me eyes to see, but further Lord, give me your heart so I may walk out these holy manifestations of You. Keep me from stumbling. May these hands and feet point to You,

El Roi ~ the God who sees.

For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many. Mark 10:45

While I was busy looking the other way, lost in all my thoughts, my heart did something that it's rather unaccustomed to, it settled. It didn't happen in a moment of revelation. It didn't happen in an intense outpouring of surrender, it just happened.

In early morning light my eye is caught by the soft, hazy blue of the sky, the breeze blows praise through the trees and my spirit whispers, thank you for this day. In this moment, this kind of every day -usually dances right past you moment-, He whispered right back, have you noticed your heart? Now that He mentions it, I have noticed this restful, content place of relief. I wonder back through the past few weeks and confirm it's been growing up, right here in MY own heart. Simple pleasure and satisfaction spread across my face. Isn't that just like His faithful nature to work and tend when I'm not even looking ? To reward my steady, non impressive efforts to hang on to Him... with such a grand prize. What love is this poured out on me?

Thank you Father.

Thank you for this day.

Thank you for this settled heart.

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us that we should be called children of God. 1 John 3:1a

Today marks the end of a long journey or perhaps it's really only the beginning. This very weary soul is looking heavenward this morning, groping for the Rock, hoping my hand is secure on it. I wonder if I really ever know how firm the grip is until the testing comes. So, this morning I am waiting. Waiting for Your answer. Waiting for you to reveal the path you have chosen and decided with all authority and sovereignty. The path that is the highest and best for me...for this family.

I am carried back through this long journey and am left in awe of the refining and teaching you graced me with. Knowing now in this culminating moment, I would go through it all again just to be this close to You. The chance to question and search my thoughts of You, to seek Your meaning in it all. To love Your Word. To deeply understand the condition of my heart and it's desires. All I want is You. I say that with whole conviction and fresh passion, standing firm on these new understandings I have of Your ways. Less of me, more of You. Much less of me....

I don't know where today will take me in Your kingdom. The comfort comes in Your leading, not mine. Years past saw this immature, desperate heart crying out for something You simply did not give. The desire still lays deep there, but the grasping of Your sovereignty blankets it all.

This morning we praise You. In the early hours he and I steal moments to praise, laugh and hold each other up. I teach the three in toe to praise You. We sit together and lift our raw thoughts, fears and emotions to You. We end knowing our future is secure and purposed for Your kingdom. I am secure in Your will. Praise will permeate this morning, it will flood into this afternoon and give it's encore in the evening hours. It gives peace. It gently tends to my mind.

Lord you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.

Psalm 16:5-6

There have been many tears here today, not all mine though. Today my heart, the mother's heart, was wounded and stretched fresh. All three little ones took turn today, emotion pouring out, raw and hurting. I call them all little, although they are not. As day begins, first born stops me at the top of the stairs. He lifts his eyes to mine and I am met with wide, glossed over, brimming eyes, begging for a release, a word, a comfort. We retreat together to solitude and the flood pours hard, proving pain knows every age and this growing son needs confidence giving words to sooth and build up. I can hardly bare his pain, I am so intimately familiar with it. I swallow hard to hold back my own flood. Father help me know how to encourage him. Help him find himself in You.

Hours pass and the chaos of the day has taken over. I am worn low and third born tests to the brink. I deliver harsh words. They sting and do their job. Tears flood, but beyond them I hear the crushing question from the littlest, "what did I do?"

He is genuinely confused. It is my turn now to crumble in tears. How gentle a word he needed, how far from that he received. I embrace him, quietly tear and pour out broken, imperfect love.

Father forgive me. Give me patience and unconditional love for this child.

Dark has finally blanketed. Stars are in their full glory and second born slips into bed beside me. He reveals fears that come at night, trapped deep in the mind. He frets down deep. I comfort and begin to pray aloud over him. One single tear streams down his perfect face the moment I call on Your name. I realize the depth of this fear in him and I weep, understanding what it is to release all emotion at just the mention of Your name. Understanding what it is to need You to rescue down to the very core.

Father protect his young mind from the evil that seeks to devour. Bring comfort to his tender heart.

Our tears reveal our desperate need Lord. This journey is impossible apart from you. Come quickly to us. Grant us Your wisdom and Your settling peace. These children belong to You. Hold them, protect them and sanctify them for Your glory while we wait...

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death, or mourning, or crying, or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. Revelation 21:4

Great Expectation.

I find myself thinking long on this lately...thinking deep. He moves through my days doing a work of redefining. The kind that alters mind and changes heart. I have such great expectations of Him. I am not alone. What passionate child of the King wouldn't when all life unfolds in her midst every day?He is worthy of such great expectation. I am waiting. I am looking for Him. I am watching for His hand to move in my life and the expectation of greatness brims over. I sense the check though and hear the whisper. There is learning to be done and so he begins to redefine my simple minded thoughts of His greatness. He asks me softly, isn't everything I do in your life great? Isn't every way in which I choose to move, a display of my greatness? Yes, my spirit begins to nod in understanding. My thoughts begin running and now I ask the questions...is it great only when it has met all my invented expectations? Is it great when it doesn't feel good? Is it great when it simply doesn't look that way to me or to anyone on the outside? In this moment I realize I have put limits on something which is absolutely limitless. A shallow heart and shallow emotions have written this definition of greatness, clothed in feel good experiences and trouble free outcomes. Unwilling to call it great, when in truth, greatness stems from it's very core. I want to look to You with great expectation every moment of my life. I want to look with the kind of expectation that is worthy of the Sovereign LORD of everything. The kind of expectation that this passionate child of the King is privileged to have.

You are redefining what your greatness really is...and I am listening. Boundless and limitless, it is You. It is both Your Being and Your grace poured out on me. I will recognize it all as great, every move of your hand, every loving provision, every pruning and shaping of my life. Every last thing.

I will lift up my eyes to you and I will have great expectation because it is who You are.

Yours, O Lord, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the majesty and the splendor, for everything in heaven and earth is Yours.

Yours, O Lord, is the kingdom; You are exalted as head over all. 1 Chronicles 29:11

I, even I, am the LORD and apart from me there is no savior. I have revealed and saved and proclaimed- I, and not some foreign god among you. You are my witnesses declares the Lord, that “I am God”, yes from ancient days. I am He. No one can deliver out of my hand. When I act who can reverse it? Isa 43:11-13

There is so much wrapped up this passage today. So many thoughts to ponder on, to inspire, to move the heart. Today I am hit hard from the beginning – “I am the LORD and apart from me there in no Savior.” Yes, I know that. Yes, I have learned that since the early days, when the mind was little and trusting. Those early days that brought forth the faith commitment to accept the Savior and secure eternity. It’s the growing - up days though, that reveal the many dimensions, the many ways in which I need saving.

Today the realization startles me. Apart from me there is no savior….who and what have I hailed as savior in my life? What foreign god have I allowed to sit on Your throne? And the list begins. Far too long for my liking. I’ve become quite accustomed to naming them as idols, fighting them relentlessly. But, today I am intrigued by the possibility of having hailed them as saviors. It’s one revolting thing to worship them, but to actually believe that apart from them I have no hope... have I really done that? What striking credit to bestow upon these impostors.

I love that my Lord will infiltrate my heart in whatever way necessary. He reveals all my ways and reaches deeply into me to sheer away false identities, exposing the reality in the bright light of His Truth. So, my list forms, likely to flesh itself out even greater as time moves on. For now, he has allowed me to see what is necessary for this moment, necessary for my refining. As usual I am reminded that when we are given much, He expects much of us. He has gifted me with this realization. His expectation weighs in with gentle urgency. Remove these foreign gods and place your full trust in Me. I am His witness, He is alone is God.

No person is my savior.

No man is my savior.

No job is my savior.

No amount of money is my savior.

No home or location is my savior.

No friendship is my savior.

No child is my savior.

No medication is my savior.

No number on a scale is my savior.

No refined image is my savior.

The LORD alone is my Savior. He sits on the throne and I am on bended knee. My life in all it’s frail imperfections is owed to Him and by His grace He crafts something of great value out of nothing.

These false saviors begin the process of being cast out. Their deceiving, powerless appeal laid barren in His light. Each now forced to face the Almighty, the one from ancient days, who's works can never be reversed and I humbly ask...Lord in this moment, please do an irreversible work in me.

Weeks have marched by. Seasons have come and gone and I find myself lured back to this space of release. Remembering how much I love to testify to His goodness. Remembering how much I need to testify to His goodness.

I find myself embedded deep in lessons of trust these days. Lessons that seem crafted especially for me. What are You preparing for me? Will I have the privilege of knowing? Are You sure this wavering soul can handle this journey? I begin with elementary responses to the invitation to trust. Fear of the outcome is heavy and I muddle through the river of emotions with whispered declarations, "I trust You". Again and again the words flow out, in a chant -like offering, soothing the wandering mind. Every statement lifted up gains confidence and heart desire. This becomes routine over the early days. Genuine trust in His goodness prevails. Days wear on though and He chooses to extend the lesson. It becomes necessary to weave a lesson in patience into the plan as this restless heart fights to chart her own course. The chant - offering somehow seems to have lost it's ability to encourage the fearful heart. The mind wanders back to the early questions - are you sure I am strong enough to handle the work You are doing here? What if Your outcome is not what my heart is desperate for? Will I trust you still? Will I trust You through the pain that is sure to follow? All my days of abiding with You...will they have prepared me enough to live out what I believe?

In the end, the prevailing Truths are simple in their nature. You are good. You are sovereign. Your ways are higher. You work all things for the good of those who love You. I gave my life to You a long time ago. It is still Yours. I will not take it back. Only now am I beginning to know what it means to live an abandoned life in the exceedingly capable care of the One who created me.

And so my chant - offerings deepen in trust and envelop me. I am Yours. I will go where You lead. I will do as You ask. And I find myself back where I began. Confident in who You are.

I trust You.

Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, LORD have never forsaken those who seek you. Psalm 9:10

For weeks I have been observing places throughout the house that bare the mark of little hands. Two year old leaves evidence of his presence on every hard surface. There must be some delight in claiming your spot and making your mark. Pencil on walls, muddy hands imprint bathroom sinks, creamy white paint accepts the stain of red, so artistic and free. With every new discovery, I exhale a heavy sigh, pondering how long it will take to once again scrub the sink, wipe the walls and paint over, trading his artistic masterpiece for mine. I remember how clean and fresh the walls once were. I am amazed at the coverage of two small hands. The walls are tired and dirty now. I imagine even they long for the cool wipe of water to flush over them and restore. My task appears to have no end in sight. No sooner is one wiped clean and another demands my attention.

Such is the condition of the heart, of my heart.

Little hands have not contributed to this mess though. Only I can take credit for these stains and smudges. Bigger, more experienced hands, that should know better choose to mark on the crisp, clean walls of my heart. The clean walls were a costly gift, generously laid out before me. I love them. But, like little two year old, I succumb to the temptation, lack of self control and disobedience. And my once clean heart finds itself tainted by undesired filth.

I gently hand two year old a water soaked sponge. One in my hand, one in his, we begin the work. He bends to his level and wipes clean the marks, water soaking and dripping down. Perhaps he remembers the fun that lead to the muddy imprints and color streaks, perhaps no memory comes to him. We work hard restoring what we can until satisfaction rests on us and the work is done. Stern, but gentle warnings to not repeat the offense fall on his little ears and land in his little heart.

A water soaked sponge will not do for my needy heart. I am handed the Word, soaked in instruction, love and grace. Do I remember the moments which lead to the many stains and marks? Some are fresh, some undoubtedly done with little thought of consequence. Heart bows in humble thanks and the Almighty Redeemer reaches right into me and wipes me clean, first and forever with His blood and then with His Word. And at once I find myself with the invitation to start fresh again. Stern, but gentle warnings fall on my ears and land in my heart as well. I am thankful for grace and Holy eyes that see deep into me and love me enough to wipe the walls clean.

If we confess our sins he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 1 John 1:9

I am wishing I wasn't feeling the gnaw deep in my soul today. I am thankful that I have finally recognized it, but wishing even more that I had never given it reason to surface. Like slowly walking out of a cloudy fog, I find myself looking back over the days wondering where I allowed myself to go. Wondering why I chose to walk away. Were You wondering why as well, my Lord?

The familiar voice of deception woos me, inviting me to linger in the past and join him in his efforts to reshape me into my former self. He wreaks of condemnation.

Not today. I have come too far and I am too desperate and hungry for the Light. In the name of Christ, you, Deceiver will stay in the past.

So, today I am giving fresh thanks for the gnawing. I am asking that I never grow so accustomed to it that I can no longer feel it. I am asking to know You, the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, the Almighty, the Everlasting One...better. Will You take me deep into Your heart? I know I don't deserve to go there, but I also know You would love nothing more than to take me there. What a gentle and tender nature You have which never contradicts and never fails.

I will not look back. I will not look back at the failure of the recent days. I will not look back at what could have been. I will not look back at the old self. I will keep my gaze fixed on You. You are leading me into Your glorious Presence. Submit and follow are the gentle commands I hear. Lord, I so want to be fit for the kingdom of God....Your kingdom. In Your merciful way please lead me there. I will do my best not to chart my own course. I will lay my life in your consuming hands.

I delight greatly in the LORD, my soul rejoices in my God. Isaiah 61:10a

Could I just sit here today? All day here, beside You? Could I just rest in Your illuminating Presence? This heart inside me must recognize it's Maker, it flutters at the mere thought of You. My spirit floats and my soul settles into deep peace at the mention of Your name.

I find You everywhere today. You are piercing blue washed across the sky. You are cool breeze brushing up against me. You are in the sweet smile of precious little ones. You are in the warm hand slipped lovingly into mine.

You are everywhere and you are right here...beside me. I won't pretend to understand it or search for words to explain it. I will just dwell in it. Oh, that I would not forget these feelings. What would the mirror reveal in this moment? It would paint unhindered expression and a girlish smile. It would tell of eyes welled with heavy tears of gratitude.

Amazing, Sovereign, LORD. Lord of the blue sky. Lord of the cool breeze. Lord over all creation.

Lord of my heart..... I give You all the glory. I give You my life. I'd like to sit here every day, with You.

Today I was simply amazed. I'm not quite sure why it surprises me every time, but it never fails to. Today He invited me to join Him. I accepted. The pleasure to serve was all mine and I hope it yielded pure pleasure for Him.

Today I was amazed at how He chooses to use me even when I don't give Him my best. Even when I whittle away precious time of preparation in worry and fret over the opinion of man. Even when I feel so inadequate and insecure, so unsure of this gift.

I was amazed that the Spirit responded to prayers that hardly seemed adequate and moved with all the power of a roaring ocean and all the gentleness of a quiet stream. He excessively exceeded all of my expectations. He always does.

Hearts were ready, softened and waiting for the blessings of surrender and again my heart looked on in amazement.

How precious were the glimpses of himself He so generously gave.

This pleasure of worship is ours for the taking every single day.

It is mine for the taking...a fresh gift laid on the table each morning with my name beautifully scripted on the tag.

Can I even fathom this foreshadowing of my eternity? Can I grasp that the most beautiful words and notes I cling to here on earth will pale in comparison to the offering that is to come?

I am simply amazed and humbly thankful. The kind of thankful that takes me to my knees, unworthy to even stand in His presence. Oh my precious Lord, the One who gives me this passion, who nurtures it and approves it, my heart loves...loves...loves to worship You. In worship I find myself. In worship I find You and I am simply amazed.

I will sing of the Lord's great love forever.... Psalm 89:1a

These words have been dancing around in my head today. They are dancing because I have finally decided to give them the space.

Generous, Abundant, More Than Enough.

Can you see them dancing now? Moving gracefully with each other. Floating through the space... encompassing it all with the majesty and glory of the One to whom they belong.

How precious is the space that is freed for the thoughts of My Lord. How much more precious are the thoughts themselves. His thoughts. The thoughts that lead me straight into His presence.

He is generous. He is abundant. He alone is

more than enough.

His Word is generous.

His love is abundant.

His provision is more than enough for me.

Can I even fathom the power in this? As my mind clears out the things of no value, I cling to these Truths as my anchor. Every feeling submits to these uncompromising Truths. Everything is checked against His unchanging nature. I will not soon forget who You are and what Your nature is.

You are generous. You are abundant. You are more than enough for me.

And therefore the Lord [earnestly] waits [expecting, looking, and longing] to be gracious to you; and therefore He lifts Himself up, that He may have mercy on you and show loving-kindness to you. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed (happy, fortunate, to be envied) are all those who [earnestly] wait for Him, who expect and look and long for Him [for His victory, His favor, His love, His peace, His joy, and His matchless, unbroken companionship]! Isaiah 30:18 (Amplified)

I am looking and I am longing.

How does it happen? Why are we so often caught off guard? Life breathes a deep, steady breath and I move with it. Days are filled with purpose, ease and joy. The simple things bring pleasure and I imagine this will never end.

Then it happens. Something in the air changes, something in me changes and life no longer breathes in the steady motion of comfort. It is triggered by any number of insignificant things. There is familiarity in this now unsettling rhythm coming forth from life. What starts small, eventually assumes it's consuming hold on me. Wishing I had somehow prepared more for this moment, I look up. I recognize where I am. I am standing in a sun scorched land. I recognize the weary state I am in and the endless, dry land surrounding me. Instinct triggers prayer. But I find myself asking all the wrong questions. Why? How did this happen? How will I ever get back? Days in this sun scorched place yield no answers and offer up abundant frustration.

Morning dawns and tears are flowing easily this day. Surely this will not be the day of relief. I am not strong enough today. Tears have already come. He decides that tears are what is needed. A broken, humble spirit is required. A mind that has no intentions of doing this in her own power. Yes, these things will be required. Strange how tears can quiet the heart long enough to hear the instructions....the encouragement. He tells me I am to simply ask for water. He says to me.."you are in a sun scorched land, but I will water you. I will pour out Myself and withhold nothing from you. Look, I am doing it even now." I recognize my fault. Too distracted determining the why of things to ask for the cure. I imagine His cool Living Water flowing over me and slowly I am soothed. Life's breath promises to return to it's steady, comforting pace and hope surrounds me.

I will not forget the scorched land. I will most likely return again. But by His grace I will ask for the water and by His promise He will provide.

The Lord will guide you always; He will satisfy your needs in a sun scorched land and will strengthen your frame.....

Isaiah 58:11

Rain

Rain has settled in today. Seems it would like to stay for a while. It's the kind of rain that just is. Nothing looming about it, no black in sight, just the soft, steady dropping beneath gray. It's the kind of rain that invites the mind to visit thoughts which have been tucked away for a while. Knowing the danger of going there alone, I ask Him to join me in the quiet moment.

In days past an air of staleness had silently floated in and was hovering. It revealed itself in the smallest of ways- unsatisfied, restless feelings, forced patience, compromises. Enough to feel the check, but not enough to bring me to my knees. So, it seems He has chosen rain and conversation to take me there today. There is something, He tells me. Something here that has no place. Something here that must be brought into the Light today.

A vision of a long hallway lined with doors on each side wanders into my mind. Each door beautiful and unique. As we open each one together, well ordered scenes are revealed. The mark of care and effort is woven into each. We stand in front of the last door. The name on the front reveals a source of unsettled emotion. The relationship between the stale air and the unsettled emotion is revealed. I am encouraged to open the door. The scene inside is full and disorderly. I am surprised at how much is there. So much unconfessed. So much waiting to be called by it's proper name- sin. Questions flood in. How could I have been so blind? Did I feel the checks and chose to ignore them? Pride stands up and takes credit and I must admit I have known all along. Comfort comes and glorious Light shines on it all and washes over the darkness of condemnation. I hear Him remind me of His presence. I hear Him invite me to confess it all now. I feel His peace rush over me and my spirit lifts. Unsettled emotion disperses and Trust settles into the empty space.

Rain nourishes thirsty creation and He does the same for me.

He washes away my filth.

He restores me.

He nourishes my tired and worn down spirit.

Praise rises from the deepest part of me and tears flow as steady as the rain.

O Lord, You have searched me and You know me. Psalm 139:1

The words hit hard that day, sinking deep into my heart where it was recognized as the conviction it was meant to be. From that moment on I committed to always be able to testify intimately to His work in me. I never wanted to be found again in the place where I had willingly given up the generous offer. I am always looking. Always searching for the lesson, for the Word that is spoken just for me. It is always there. Every time. Without fail. My reflection of Him is so often shabby and distorted, but Spirit reminds me that the work which will yield the most glorious results will be hard and messy. Would I be willing to submit myself to His masterful hand? Would I be willing to endure the shaping and molding that would come from this yielded spirit? The heart desire surfaces again gently reminding that I must be ready to give an account. And to give an account, work is necessary.

Too much time has been wasted bathing in the lukewarm water. Forgive me Father. What is this measure of patience He has with me to mercifully wait while I weigh options and tinker with Truth? With brazen confidence I allow myself room to consider His commands and desires for me. Cries for forgiveness find their way up from the inner most parts of my heart. The prayer of surrender is birthed and I give myself up to the refining. Shabby and distorted is the reflection seen in the mirror. Cleansed and usable is the reflection seen in His eyes.

Ask me and I will tell you -every time. I will tell you how His glory and grace wash over me every moment of every day. How he is sanding away the filth and shaping the seemingly unusable into purpose. How he takes human ears and tunes them to know His voice and his precious commands.

Ask me and I will tell you.

I will give the account. My heart will confirm and my mouth will testify.

Every moment of every day.

I am given over to the Hand of my Creator.

Father hold me here.

The Call

The call came late one night. It brought the kind of news that breaks hearts. Little one known to many would be fighting a long battle for his life. Cancer had made it's claim on his young body and immediately we begin to pray. The praying turns into scripture searching which again turns to praying and then again to the Word. An endless cycle of seeking our Healer. We take our place on the front lines. Relentless pleas burst from our being. Our own little ones struggle to understand this looming death, but accept their call to take it to the throne alongside us. 

Spirit works and moves in us - in me. Always guiding, always directing, always interceding. So why am I surprised when He chooses to divert my pleading words away from this little one to someone far sicker? This one had left her youth behind many years ago. We were born of the same blood. Carved from the same DNA. Created to share the bond of sisterhood, but separated by a divide so wide only He could build the bridge across. Only His power and her submission could soften her wandering, obstinate heart. 

Spirit confirms how good it is to pray for the little one who's physical body wastes away, but how much more necessary it is to petition for this lost sister-child. She spiritually wastes away. If little one succumbs to his dying body it will only release him into the arms of his Father. She has no such Hope. Why is it so easy to line up for the unexpected, seemingly unjust battles and so hard to stay steadfast in the lingering ones? Is spiritual sickness not vastly more devastating than any physical sickness? Why am I not relentless on her behalf, on the front lines every day, pleading for her life? Conviction weighs heavy and my heart begins to crumble under it. Tears of repentance wash over me. How do I begin? I confess I don't even know where to start. He reminds that Spirit is waiting to intercede with passion and direct alignment to Perfect Will. All moving to the same pulse with the same desires. Forgive me for failing to lay her at your feet every day. She is worth that. Blot out my pain and reshape my heart. Write her name on it with your Holy hand. Give me your passion for her, Your one lost sheep. You are out looking for her. She has strayed so far. Draw her to You. Help me have a relentless, passionate love for her.

Oh prodigal child....come home. 

We are waiting.

He is waiting.

A challenge and a choice lay before me today. A gift passed on from a servant-disciple who is always obedient to the call. Both the challenge and the choice are heavy with expectation and promise of unexpected blessings. Whispered prayers slip heaven-ward...Lord, help me make the right choice. 

We spend our whole lives avoiding death, fighting the natural process we are all destined to. At the same time we spend spiritual lifetimes avoiding the death of our flesh, taking equally particular care and caution to preserve it by way of complacency and fear. 

I am left to check myself. 

Death to what? Do I really need to ask... as if I don't know? This stilled mind can compile the list if given the charge. But will I? How much easier to choose life. To move forward with ease and accolades. "What could death bring me?" lingers in my mind. Emerging from the deep thought, I am faced with the amazing, unmeasurable reality of what death has already brought me. Why then would I hesitate to put to death this consuming self in order to gain it all? In death I would walk into Almighty arms that give purpose and promise to carry. That fill all the voids. That grace me with comfort and assurance. The choice seems simple and the challenge knocks. Will I? 

One path leads to glory that delights Self and the other leads to Glory that delights the One who IS pure Delight. 

Again I find myself giving up answers and again I choose yes. 

Who dares turn down the invitation that breathes life and purpose in order to feed a hungry lie?

 May Light consume all my dark places...