Five Minute Friday ~ Join

I'm joining up with Lisa-Jo and her fabulous group of Fridayers! Today is five minutes on; Join:

Go:

An invitation to join the messy is living across the street. A broken mommy, angry daddy, scarred children. Once a people group I would have shied away from. Who wants to be splattered by sin and pain, someone else's, regularly?

"Join me." It was an invitation. A command. A plea, a gift. Jesus was already there, knee deep in mess. Trembling I put one foot on the driveway, a path to a neighbor's front door, and joined the work. At moments the amount of pain takes my breath away.

I have never heard so many foul words strung together in one breath, truly it's a skill. The little eyes that seek out mine have seen depths of pain and abuse I've only read about. But here they are, in front of me.

The grace Jesus gives meets the pain. I sense it, they need it, he brings it. So in one hand I grab a hold of Jesus, and in the other take hold of trembling fingers, in a grasp of love. In the gloaming we stand at the edge, between a house of pain and a house of refuge, swatting bugs and surrounded my tumbling laughter, hearts touching. I'm in.

Stop

How about you? What have you joined lately? Where is God leading you to join him?

Five Minute Friday ~ Here

I woke up to Lisa-Jo's Five Minute Friday invitation to write. Just what I needed. So I'm joining in to write on; Here.


Start


Here. Jehovah Shammah. The Lord is Here. He is here, with us, now. With me. Whether I deserve it or not. And I don't. He's here anyway. In spite of all that I am or have done, he's here. With mercies that are fresh and new, he's here bearing gifts.


The Lord is in the here and now of orphans crying and droughts crippling and slaves groaning and wedding celebrations and art created and servants bending gently. 


Here with us all, not put off by messy, entering in. Here in our words and our hearts and our lives. Here far and wide with us all. The question is do we recognize his presence and welcome it. Do I? Mercy greets me every morning, a fresh kiss of kindness, willing to be embraced. Life is in returning that embrace.


Joy blooms in the welcoming of Jehovah Shammah, the Lord is Here. 


Stop


I hope the reminder of Jesus of presence, an offering for every moment, refreshes your heart as much as it does mine!


The faithful love of the Lord never ends!
    His mercies never cease.
²³ Great is his faithfulness;
    his mercies begin afresh each morning.
²⁴ I say to myself, “The Lord is my inheritance;
    therefore, I will hope in him!” Lamentations 3:22-24

Five Minute Friday ~ Dance

I love the opportunity Lisa-Jo gives her readers to join in the writing. Her fingers pounding, heart thumping, joy of creating community is a gift. If you want to have some writing fun hop over to her page. Today the writing prompt is; Dance.

Go:

Creation's been compared to a symphony and I agree. Can you see it dance? There's the mighty mountain lumbering, a cascade of pebbles clatter to his feet, imperceptible in his motion. The stars overhead, twinkle a far off ecstasy. The motion of their dance written across the sky, in a seasonal pattern of glory. The trees sway, hands lifted like a pentecostal choir. The variety of height and color brush stroked across land. A mountain brook, jumping from heights in a swirling, twirling waterfall, may be the most joyous dancer of all. Giving itself to the dance in an abandon almost reckless.

I find myself amongst them. Catching my breath as I catch the beat, amazed I've found the rhythm. Just as quickly I stumble, trip, fall. Leaving the line in search of lesser things. But I'll be back tomorrow, searching for the rhythm. It's under my skin put their the moment God said "Let there be..."

Stop

How about you? Do you feel you have two left feet in the dance of life? If so it takes practice to find the joy, rhythm, and beauty of creation. Thankfully dancing lessons are free! The Holy Spirit whispers the steps in our ears and our Father holds our hands and lets us step on his feet. Take a moment today. Can you hear the rhythm?

Five Minute Friday: See

It's time for Five Minute Friday, where we write for five minutes for the fun of it. Hop over the Gypsy Mama and join in. Today's topic; See.

Go:

Why is it that I don't have a problem looking hundreds of miles away into the faces of love starved children but I forget to turn and look at the face beside me?

I've memorized the scar under his chin where he fell as a child, the green of his eyes flecked with gold, how his hand is shorter than mine but stronger. I've known him for years, seen him until I could trace his face in my mind perfectly. And yet how often don't I see.

How regularly do I make sure I've loved his body but not hist heart; clean clothes, a meal, hug and I love you, but have I turned my eyes to see his real needs?

I forget that I'm the brave one not because I'm brave so much as because I'm headless. But he's not careless and I forget. Cautious, quiet, solemn and I forget what that means and that good and bad aren't the issue. 

It's a gift I hold in my power; to see him. Too often I'm careless and neglect to give the gift. But isn't that what we all want? To be seen and as a result be known.

Stop.

As wives it's easy to turn on auto pilot in our marriage and tend to the immediate needs of every day life. But I believe our husbands need more than a clean house and hot meal. They need us. Too often I'm forgetful of that. My gaze is turned to the pile of laundry, crying preschooler, ringing phone and the person dearest to me has to get in line and wait his turn for scraps. Truly seeing and, as a result, responding to our husband's hearts is a gift. Let's look for ways to see our husbands in a fresh light today, and let them know it!

Five Minute Friday: Opportunity

How is it Friday already? I have no idea, but it is and it's time to link up with Lisa Jo and her Five Minute Friday gang. Today we're talking about, Opportunity:

Go:

Sometimes it feels like an interruption, the appearance of two straggly neighbor children, but it's really an opportunity. The house turned upside down and little mouths speaking like hardened cynics, or worse, but Jesus whispers "love them."

My garden is a gangly mess at times, a fight with worms to reclaim what's rightfully mine, a time consuming chore. But the fruit is a chance to give away love and draw curious children in for a conversation and it still teaches me. An opportunity hides in it's tangled vines.

A whole country looms far away and it beckons louder each week. A chance for terror turns into an opportunity for trust. A missional call illuminates the opportunity to footprint walk, follow Jesus more closely than before.

Each time life unfolds I have a choice, push away or embrace.  

Stop

What are the things that annoy or frighten you? I know in my day I have plenty of things I see as a distraction or discouragement. In Jesus' hands anything can be turned into a burning bush, if we give him access. It's not my nature to see the opportunity tucked inside a looming obstacle, but I've seen Jesus turn even the most challenging circumstances into opportunities to praise him, and I'm beginning live differently.

"Be very careful, then, how you live —not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is." Ephesians 5:15-17

Five Minute Friday: Identity

It's Five Minute Friday time where I link up with other Gypsy Mama friends and we write what's on our heart. If you want to join in hop on over and give it a try. Today's prompt is: Identity.

Go:

I've identified myself many ways over the years, labels have come and gone. Thin, daughter, pretty, smart, big mouth, energetic, dogmatic. As I've grown I shed some labels as a lizard sheds too tight skin and put on new ones. Wife, mother, dieter, worshiper, southerner. I've grown in to other labels unexpectedly. Mentor, writer, teacher. I've tried to squeeze into identities that weren't my size. Holy Spirit, leader, hero.

Through it all the Word and the Holy Spirit have stripped off those identities and labels and scrubbed me clean. I hear God's voice naming me. I'm surprised by what he says and fight his name for me, unbelieving and incredulous. I've gotten used to the voice in my head and the voice of the world telling me who I am. But I grow weary of the fight and learn to trust his voice. Unsuited, I'm astonished to find a crimson seal across my heart, etched with one word. BELOVED.

Stop

We're good at throwing around labels. Branding people and ourselves; sometimes categorizing people we're afraid of, other times setting people up with god like expectations. One label I've come to be wary of is Christian. It's easy to slap the label Christian on someone or something. I've heard some of the oddest statements made in the name of Christianity. I don't want to label myself as a Christian anymore, anyone can do that. I'd rather call myself something a little more awkward, something narrow and unavoidably clear. How about bond-servant of Jesus? Or what about disciple of Jesus, maybe sinner ransomed by God, or member of the holy priesthood of Jesus Christ? How we define ourselves affects how we behave, similarly how we define others affects how we expect them to behave. I want to define myself by and behave according to the word of God. The Israelites applied the blood of the passover lamb to the doorposts of their home, warding off the angel of death, and walked out of bondage into freedom as the people of God. Similarly the blood of The Lamb, applied in faith to the doorway of my heart, enables me to walk in freedom, from death to life, as a child of God.

How do you identify yourself? Have you allowed the expectations of others, or maybe yourself, to define you? God has a label he wants to put on you and it's the only one that matters!

Five Minute Friday: Together

I'm joining up again with The Gypsy Mama's wonderful community. Today's prompt excites me, we're talking about; Together. 

Go

All galaxies known and unknown fit in the palm of his hand, his word holds life together, by a word he brought into being all things. He is pure, good, holy, the only one worthy of praise. Higher than our thoughts can think, more beautiful than we can look upon and live, infinite in existence and power, stretching out into eternity in every direction. He knows no limits of time, or limits of any kind at all.

We, on the other hand, have never recovered from our tragic beginnings. Corrupted at the dawn of time, mankind bears a scarlet stain across it's heart. Limited by time we are chained to the laws of earth and their consequences. A speck in the cosmos like a billion grains of sand, our lives are over before they've begun.

How could a being like me and a being like God have any common ground? Could a flee and a blue whale be friends? How much more odd that infinity should embrace limitation. How much odder still that he should invite me into his exclusive circle of love, Father, Son and Spirit ever knowing and enjoying one another. How could my heart be one heart with his, united and sharing glory? The very idea arises a protest to my lips. But this is what I want and what I was made for. So humbly I accept a gift I could never deserve and can't comprehend. Joining together, my small heart swallowed up by his great one in an eternal embrace.

Stop

Well, I must confess I took longer than five minutes today as I pondered this weighty subject. So how can such a thing be possible, the union of holy God and broken man? John 1:14 gives us the answer "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth." God the Son wrapped all of his glorious, holy self into skin and bone, taking the nature of God and the nature of man and uniting them together in himself. John 1 makes John 17 possible. John 17:21b-22 "May they (believers) also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one." (Taken from Jesus prayer to his Father.)


What are you doing with your salvation? Are you content merely to be saved? Are you a friend with benefits kind of follower, wanting the blessing without the commitment and work that come with sanctification (being made holy)? It's a fearsome thing to allow our hearts to get close enough to holiness to have our impurities washed away, to allow our very nature to be consumed and refined by the nature of God, to allow a union to take place. But if we settle for anything else we are just licking up crumbs off the floor when we could be sitting down to a feast. I'm praying that God will teach me what it means to be one with him as Jesus is one with the Father. Will you join me?

Five Minute Friday: Goodbye

It's time to link up with Lisa-Jo for Five Minute Friday. Today's prompt: Goodbye.

Go

Why does goodbye hurt so much, what makes it so hard? Stretching thin the fibers of hearts, pulling the bond taught between them, so tight you could pluck and twang their cords. Goodbye of a relocation tests the metal of relationships. The fast paced frenzy of our culture, taking hither and yon, have prompted creative ways to touch hearts and minds like never seen before. It's amazing the ways we found to stretch our goodbyes into long distance hellos.

But there is a goodbye that hurts like a birth and won't be satisfied. It burns and aches for decades. No connection prolongs that goodbye from a distance. Even though we celebrate and anticipate for those leaving us for Heaven's wonders, the ache still comes. Why when we know we'll see them again do we grieve so long?

Unity. We were made for this. Separation is unnatural and death speaks a final word. We were meant to be together. Joined at the heart to Father God, joined at the heart with brother man. Hear death's warning. We were made for unity. The bride here and the bride there can not be complete until we're together, eternal, and we long and ache and twist until it's done.

Stop

The Spirit and the Bride say come, unify us, Lord Jesus! My Mom and I have been talking about unity a lot lately. This week we talked about what death is saying to us about unity in light of eternity, it's calling out; embrace unity with God and each other, hold out unity while there is time. Death is God's final warning and reminder that we were made for unity with him, and this life is an invitation. What will you do with the call of unity?

{One practical step I'd like to hold forth is the linking of arms with another sister in unity for this journey heavenward. For tips on how to do that download a free copy of my ebook Sister to Sister; A Mentor's Handbook.}

Five Minute Friday: Loud

It's time to write and join up with Lisa-Jo's crew at The Gypsy Mama. Today we're writing for five minutes on; Loud.

Go

Whirling, swirling, pulsing star song, shouting out praise day after day. Blue whale, whistling, groaning, trilling, singing for his daily bread, depending on a heavenly hand. Waves and clouds, thunder clap, beating out a steady base praise, ceaseless applause.

An undercurrent of hate and groaning. Curse and lies try to drown out the glory, voices raised in angry rebellion. Smaller voices whisper pleas, calling for justice. A discordant accent to the song of glory.

Louder than everything else rings out a love song. A song with roots in time not known by mere mortals, birthed in forever, a holy Three in One song of perfect love. A song we've been invited to sing, Calvary taught us the melody, holiness perfects the tune. On this pulsing planet we are the loud song of love, sung back to the Father, sung out to the dieing. Love out loud.

"Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." Matthew 5:16

Stop


Truly it amazes me that God has invited us into the love song the Father, Son, Spirit have been singing to each other for eternity. His love is magnified to this tired old world by the fresh song of love sung by his children. It matters if we choose to live in love, to remain silent is an affront to the love we've been given.


What does the song of love you're singing sound like? Is it to your family, the co-worker that aggravates you, the widow next door. The song you're singing matters, live it loud!

{Just a quick note. I have the opportunity to share at my friend Ellen's amazing blog today, These Broken Vases. I'm talking about God's desire to transform our brokenness with his powerful truth. Hop on over for a visit and let Ellen know you dropped by!}

Five Minute Friday: Brave

Today's prompt is a good one! At Lisa-Jo's we write for five minutes and encourage one another. Today we are: Brave.

Go:

Some days the weariness of fingers pecking out the rhythm of my heart, splashed bold for everyone to see, sets heavy in my bones. At times the battle cry, whispered in the dark or cried in the silent car, for helpless children hidden away beyond my reach stifles and chokes. Truth brandished in my hand, flung up to the sky like a glinting sword, stands discordant to the preoccupied bustle of life's ebb and flow.

My shoulders sag and foot falters. And then I hear the story of those men and women of giant proportions. The Wallace war cry echos across time. Freedom! My nose sniffs the air and I smell battle. I was born for this. The Celtic blood warm in my veins can't hold a candle to the true source of bravery.

My life is hidden, I live in the power of another, a Lion. He takes on injustice with sacrifice, overcoming death with death. His booty is the captive, he trades blood for blood, his life for another. My older Brother, the first to inherit, he leads the way to victory. Bravely I follow.

Stop

We are called to live our lives through the power of Christ, an unusual warrior. He conquered death and everything has been placed under his feet, but he never once raised a weapon. "He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves," Colossians 1:13. What ruler has ever rescued a people, conquered a world, subjugated evil with a more powerful weapon than love? And love is our battle cry too. Our marching orders, our call, our standard. "This is my command; Love each other," John 15:17.  We are never more brave than when we love.

Five Minute Friday: Empty

I enjoy Fridays and a few moments just to write from the heart. Visit The Gypsy Mama to join in and read other five minute offerings. Today Lisa-Jo's prompt is; Empty.

Go:

Young, dark eyed Mama sitting at the table. Three pairs of hungry eyes looking back, watching and waiting. Empty tummies, and an empty cupboard, she's calling out in faith. Muller like prayer takes wings and carves truth on listening hearts. Father we're trusting in you. "Thank you for this food you will provide," and her heart asks for faith to believe what she just prayed.

Knock at the door at the moment of amen. Bread, orange juice, food for another day. Faith is spilling like a cloud of grace down her face, in this moment, over the watching hearts. He likes us best empty. Free for the filling, needy of his love. Hungry hearts receive mana more readily than full ones. Oh Father empty us of all that substitutes and give us the Bread of Life.

Stop

That powerful encounter of God's very real provision set the tone for my spiritual life. In seminary at the time, my parents only way of following God in obedience was through trust. I've thought of that moment so many times in my life. God has reminded me over and over that it is his hand that sustains, his truth that establishes, his authority that calls to obedience. As we pour ourselves out on the altar of faith he gives us something better, his indestructible life in exchange for our broken one.

Where are you empty and needy today? God is asking you to call out in faith for his filling. He longs to empty you of the lies that hold you captive and the fear that keeps you blind. In it's place he will pour in the very nature of Christ!

Five Minute Friday: Ache

Today at The Gypsy Mama we're joining together for five minutes to write about; Ache.

Go:

The ache is always the same. It simmers under the surface, polishing each perfect moment with it's hum. In the harder moments, at night, through tears, it throbs like an old splinter embedded deep in my heart.

The knowledge that I was made for more, you were made for more. Homesick for a country that's our heritage. Longing for the birthright kept for us in an unseen place.

The ache beats more deeply at the witnessing of sin's deep gash of graffiti marring all of creation. It's hurts almost uncontrollably at the brokenness the cries out from wounded eyes.

The ache is no less strong though in those breathtaking moments that pause in a perfect standstill. Lemon butterfly wings beating out joy in soft southern air. Pools of laughing blue delight twinkling at me in love from my daughter's face. Music that swells in a moment of pure transportation, right up to the edge of the land I'm straining for.

I was born with the ache of home and will be possessed by it until the day I leave this world to claim my prize!

Stop.

"If we can see through the fog and picture our eternal home in our mind's eye, it will comfort and energize us." Randy Alcorn

As is evidenced by the name of my blog, I'm ever aware that I'm far from home, a traveler. Nothing gives me hope like the promise that this world isn't all there is. We're destined for a resurrected world, at home with Jesus.

Wherever you find yourself today, the sweet ache of joy or the bitter ache of sorrow, I hope you find comfort and energy in the promise that your inheritance in Jesus includes a home with him.

Five Minute Friday: Grit

It's link up time with Lisa-Jo and friends at The Gypsy Mama. We write for five minutes just for the fun of it. Today we're writing on: Grit.

Go:

Oh Christian, pure hearted and brave. Turn your face to the world like a flint. Refuse to be corrupted, determine to be compassionate. The way is tough and obstacles block your way. Tripping over pride, betrayal, hate, poverty, suffering your knees get scraped and bruised.

Jaw set, you bend to comfort the helpless, stretch an arm around the lonely sitting in the pew, confront the lies and injustice so prevalent. And who laughs or sings like you, the happiest in the world, because you know a secret. This life is not all there is, a better one's to come!

The journey isn't easy, warrior, but what a privilege to follow so great a Savior. And in one deep breath the memory of this hard climb will pass, as ragged feet and weary limbs cross over into perfect rest and reward.

"So take a new grip with your tired hands and strengthen your weak knees. Mark out a straight path for your feet so that those who are weak and lame will not fall but become strong." Hebrews 12:12-13

Stop.

It takes a lot of grit to follow Jesus. The path of righteousness leads us in a direction opposite the flow of society and often the way is lonely and hard. But we have a Companion on the way that cheers and strengthens. The word grit brought to mind the missionary biographies I grew up reading. Truly Hudson Taylor, Amy Charmichael, Eric Liddel and the like were gritty Christians. They walked their faith out in sweat and sacrifice and I'm thankful for their example.

Who in your life is a gritty Christian, setting the example of tenacious faith?

Five Minute Friday: Delight

I love linking up on Friday's with other writers pouring their hearts out for five minutes over at The Gypsy Mama. Today we're writing on: Delight.

Go:

Yesterday I wrote about the path of sorrow that winds throughout our life. How appropriate that today I should counter it with delight!

There is a path where delight bounces it's radiance like diamonds scattered about with joy. A path where the kiss of righteousness and peace (Psalm 85) spread a blush of life.

What delights a soul like the warmth of being a one true love, the prize? Where does laughter ripple like a waterfall flowing down in joy, from the heights of charity to the depths of humility, splashing down on humanities parched soul with refreshing hope?

There's a path, obscure to some, and often intersecting the marshy land of sorrow. It's name is the Way of Salvation, and it's governed by the Prince of Peace.


"A single day in your courts is better than a thousand anywhere else! I would rather be a gatekeeper in the house of my God than live the good life in the homes of the wicked. For the Lord our God is our sun and our shield. He gives us grace and glory. The Lord will withhold no good thing from those who do what is right. O Lord of Heaven's Armies, what joy for those who trust in you." Psalm84:10-12

Stop

Yesterday I wrote that God has made a provision, and even extended the invitation, of mourning. That provision of comfort for our sorrow is found in his presence, it's an invitation to dwell and know his heart. That's equally true of joy. What brings true, full, we-were-meant-for-this joy? His presence. Amazing, he's the one who comforts our souls, delights our hearts, gives peace to our day, restores our minds, illuminates our path, is kind to our children, assures us of justice, covers us with righteousness, shares his glory, withholds no good thing by inviting us into his very presence.

Is there any other response than worship? Let's worship, right now, friends!

Five Minute Friday: Trust

I'm linking up with Lisa-Jo again for Five Minute Friday. The prompt today, so appropriate for me, is: Trust.

Go:

There must have been a moment Abraham hesitated. The years of trusting, and faltering, the moment of laughter, the birth of a promise held and treasured in grizzled arms.

Now the contradiction. Sacrifice his only son, heir to a nation, joy of his heart? But that is what God had asked. And Abraham obeyed, the very next morning.

There's a place on a mountain in Moriah that remembers the father and son, a knife, an alter, and a ram. A place of supreme trust and obedience, because the two always go hand in hand. A forgotten spot that saw Jehovah Jireh provide.

A whisper of the moment the Father would provide a Lamb for all sons. He wouldn't spare his own.

Stop.

The only place in the Bible the name Jehovah Jireh is recorded, is right here on God's mountain of salvation (Genesis 22). God was showing us all that he could be trusted to provide salvation. Everything else we can possibly need is secondary.

How is God asking you to trust him? I shared yesterday where I'm growing in trust. If God has provided his own dear Son for us, won't he also provide everything else we need. Let's step out and trust him together!

Five Minute Friday: Real

Lisa-Jo, aka The Gypsy Mama, has invited us to play with words on Fridays for just five minutes. I enjoy the game and hope you'll join in too. Today we're writing about; Real.

Go:

More often than not, in this world, the fog covers the landscape, softening hard edges, obscuring lines. Spiderweb tangle of truth mixed with lie, and we find ourselves stuck. Masks obscure faces and the searching out and knowing is a crazy dance.

Because someone wise once said this is the shadowlands we're living in. And it's a good life for people half real. Spirit clears cobwebs from the mind, and Living Word illuminates the path. But the path still runs through shifting shadows of perception.

I've heard a story about a day when the princess wakes up from her dreaming though. And I believe that story, staked all on it. All will be made real then. Life lived out in broad daylight, face to face. No more dreaming, or foggy wondering. Real made known, even as we are known now.

Stop.

"Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory." Colossians 3:2-4

Do you long for that day? I do! What brings you hope as you wait for that real day to dawn?

Five Minute Friday: Tender

I love Gypsy Mama Fridays and the chance to write free flowing words for Five Minutes. If you haven't tried it give it a shot! You can enjoy Lisa-Jo's words and the words of others here. Today's prompt: Tender.

Go:
A gruff and growly old mustache. But he didn't fool me. Under the shell made tough by the world and fear, there beat a teddy bear heart. At once protecting and loving.

The nurture of my heart and mind took shape at his tender hands. Worlds of understanding and possibility opened in warm wide vistas.

Life isn't always gentle and kind but true love tenders hope and a kindredness that cheers. Even in the lean years, in the difficult climbs, broad shoulders bent to look blue eyed love into mine.

We are one, cut from the same cloth, fighting the same dragons, following the same melody. Tender bond stretching across miles.

Me and Daddy on my wedding day.

Daddy meeting my daughter Maggie.

Stop.

The prompt for today's writing, tender, immediately brought my Daddy to mind. That probably isn't the first word people would use to describe him. Intelligent, strong, hard worker, creative, determined, maybe even gruff might come to mind first. But I'm his daughter and I've seen his heart in ways others haven't. Bridges have been mended and grace has filled in the cracks of our lives. The tender moments are what my heart holds on to. And all those moments have paved the way of trust in my heavenly Father.

Where have you found tenderness in your life? Perhaps it came from someone unexpected. I'd love to hear your story!

Five Minute Friday: Awake

I love linking up with Lisa-Jo at The Gypsy Mama for Five Minute Friday's. Her words are filled with grace and the community of ladies a joy. This week's writing prompt; AWAKE:

Go:

Suddenly a voice calls across the distance into my heart. Like a trumpet blast awakening my soul. I sit bolt upright and blink my eyes, as startled as if a bucket of ice water had been splashed across my face. I didn't realize I had been sleeping but I'm utterly aware of my awakeness now.

Awake to the great Father heart whooshing in deep cosmic heart beat of parental love. Awake to the littlest ones of life that need that love, expressed to them through our heart and hands.

A blind eye was all I had previously, I chose soul sleep over the sharp burn of awake in my soul. But not now. My eyes are no longer senseless to the big pleading eyes of my little fellow orphans in life.

Now I see those hungry hearts that have never had the chance to utter that beautiful word, "Mommy." In the dark when they are afraid, no one to call mommy. In the morning longing for a warm hug, no mommy to call. For every moment of every day, no mommy. Many of them went from the hospital of their birth to the orphanage where there are not enough arms to care for them. They've never known a parent.

My heart sleeps no longer, I'm awake. Awake to the adoptive love that has transformed me, so generously given by my Father. Awake to the voices I hear with my heart, though not my ear, voices calling for love and home.

Stop

I'm sure that took me more than the allotted five minutes. I was stopped by children a couple of times and lost track!

This is the work God is doing in my heart. To know my own adoption and the price that was paid for me and then translate that into the language of compassion for others. To see with love, but more than that, respond. I'm still such a toddler and the words and behaviors garbled and unnatural. But I'm sensing the delight of my Father as I look to him to learn, to watch what he does and mimic it.

What has God awakened your heart to lately? Are you learning new truths?

Five Minute Friday: Connection

It's time to link up with the Gypsy Mama, today we're writing for five minutes on; Connected. 

Go

On the other side of the world are small children without home and comfort, with needs and hopes. Far across oceans and land, waits an orphan that I long to hear call me mama. Their eyes are tilted almonds, their bodies flexible, their little minds challenged, some with heart problems and tummy problems. Down syndrome beauties. 

Between these little hearts and my fast beating one stretches a cord of supernatural love, connecting us. A cord of prayer, a cord of hope, a cord of life. 

The connecting cord holds strong, not because of my flimsy, stary-eyed love. But because of the great, pumping, rhythmic beat of cosmic Love's song. Sung over you, sung over me. And I'm beginning to see it, our Father's love is so deep and wide, so vast, as to embrace the tiny broken victims, the care givers who don't care, and people like me who for years have walked in calloused oblivion.

"The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing." Zephaniah 3:17

Can you hear his song, singing over you, singing over the orphan, the drug addict, the movie star, the politician, the world? His heart connects us in our great need, in his great love.

Stop 

Chris and I have begun exploring the possibility of international adoption. When I began thinking about adoption months ago I had imagined in-state adoption, due to cost and practicality. However, my heart longs to adopt a child with Down syndrome (DS) and honestly they are hard to adopt in America. The reason being that in America prenatal diagnosis of Down syndrome typically results in abortion or the family chooses to keep the baby. There are waiting lists in America for a DS baby. In Eastern European countries children with Down syndrome are routinely placed in orphanages at birth, they are available and needy now.

This is a God sized task, but one I feel him calling us to. To obey we will need help; prayer, funds, support and encouragement. Will you join us now in praying? We would love your prayer for God's direction and confidence in this matter. We will need a new vehicle as our family grows. And of course there's the cost, which is substantial. I'm excited to see God's provision as he answers prayer and gets the glory for rescuing a precious little one! 

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." James 1:27

Psalm 68:5-6, "Father to the fatherless, defender of widows - this is God, whose dwelling is holy. God places the lonely in families; he sets the prisoners free and gives them joy."

Five Minute Friday: Color

I'm joining up with The Gypsy Mama this morning to splatter words on a page of delight. What a fabulous prompt she has for us this Five Minute Friday, looking forward to reading lots of great posts on: Color

Go:

I'm ashamed, I turn my eyes away from the red pain oozing from the chest of my fellow man. It is inconvenient and uncomfortable to see the colors of mercy. Colors undetectable with the naked eye of man. Colors only visible through the white hot searing presence of the Holy Spirit.

What could possibly compel me to turn and face a landscape gray with sin, black with despair, red with anger? Mercy, that has painted my life with colors I never imagined existed. Mercy I've received but all too often hold tightly to, choking out the color and life.

Mercy regains it's brilliance as it's released from my fingers, free to flow into a teeth gritted black heart. Can I live in the shadows of indifference, painting with my brush of fear? Will I step into the dazzling kaleidoscope that is flung wide by mercy?

Stop

Too often it's easy to tune the suffering of the world out. How is our heart growing to be more like Christ's if we shut our ears to the needs of our fellow humans, instead of meeting them with compassion? I am so not capable of mercy on that scale, it often costs more than I'm willing to give. But if I believe resurrection power is available for those who have faith, I don't have to be capable in myself. Does showing mercy to broken, needy people intimidate you? How do you deal with that fear?