Tuesday, March 6, 2012

in the land of more

“You’re pregnant” those words parting from the lips of the nameless faceless person that lurked in the shadows of my dream.

“You’re pregnant” those words rattling around in my brain having no idea what she was talking about, I wasn’t pregnant.
I stumbled around in the dark places of my dream, places I did not recognize, it was unfamiliar, somewhere I had never been before, my eyes trying to focus in the large dimly lit room scattered with overstuffed fluffy couches and I could feel the presence of the nameless faceless woman, I could hear her speaking but I could not see her, “don’t have an abortion”.

“Abortion, but I’m not pregnant!” breathing in deep to fill my lungs with as much air as I could to shout out the words.
Yes, I know what that sounds like but stick with me, and I have no idea why that word was used.

The next morning my eyes fluttered open to the night sky giving way to the morning light that was bouncing off the snow outside, I was still shaken by my dream, “I really have to stop eating before bedtime” I thought to myself, “it is giving me crazy dreams”.
I shuffled my way down the hall towards my home office and typed a paragraph in the story I am writing that has gone largely ignored for the past few weeks, a story of real testimonies of real people written through fictional characters, and I felt connected.

Like all the other posts I have written in the past I had no idea where this one was going until I started writing it, but as the words flowed onto the page He opened my spiritual eyes. In my dream I wasn’t pregnant with child, I was pregnant with a hope, a dream, a longing, I was pregnant with what I was created to do and  I felt the fire being stoked inside of me, peace filled the air space around me and in that moment I knew I was doing what I was created to do, what I was trying to abort in favor of what was easier, and easy felt good, for a while anyway. I was journeying down the path that was wide, the road often traveled but I was falling away from God in the process, and the thoughts started to creep back in,  the thoughts that so often invaded my life before I met God, the thought that there has got to be more to life than just this.  I was irritable and cranky and I had a major attitude, and in those brief seconds as I watched black ink spill onto white paper my light bulb moment came,  the woman in my dream was not telling me to have an abortion as we think of it, she was telling me to not abort what I was created to do, and I really need to stop eating before bedtime.
I have two lives, lives that often collide and go to war with each other.  My one life where I must go out into the world and earn a paycheck, but also a life where I weave together words to tell a story and it is that life where I feel the most connected to God the life I feel like I don’t enough time for, so that was the life I tried to abandon.

It is not easy balancing my two worlds, my heart longing to write as I sit in morning rush hour traffic, tearing myself away from my computer much too soon in my opinion to get ready for the day ahead that wish I could spend writing and it is not easy, sometimes it is just stinkin hard but it is where I am supposed to be, and my place of more was filled up.  
More is not found in anything of this world but in Jesus and what God created us to do and slowly I am seeing the dots of God working in my life connect, and everything has been starting to make sense, just a tiny bit.
The places inside us that long for more can only be filled by Jesus.

Sunday, January 29, 2012

finish it

Battered thoughts, thoughts of discouragement and thoughts of hopelessness, we feel depleted and defeated, and it seems as if God has fallen silent He feels distant and we feel like we are falling away, backsliding in our faith.

The voices taunts us they tell us that this is all there is and there is no more because God is holding out on us.  The voices remind us of the sin we spoke yesterday and the sin we committed 10 years ago and they remind us that we are unworthy because we are not perfect.
Philippians 3:12-13
Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.  Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it.  But one thing I do:  Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead.

As believers we know times like these will come, they are pretty much unavoidable, and the first time it happens the voices overwhelm us and the questions begin to rattle through our brains. 
Are we really saved?

Is God really for real?
Where is He?

What does God want from me?
Poppa don’t you love me anymore?

The voices and thoughts sneak up on us and shout at us  and we are defenseless to defeat them in our own strength.  
Whenever we take a step towards Jesus, the enemy will take a step in front of us to block our way.  The voices and thoughts will come but it up to us whether we let them stay.  We have a protector and a defender and His name is Jesus and if we reach our hand out for Him He will reach back, and the enemy flees because he can’t stay anywhere where the name of Jesus is spoken, he can’t stay anywhere where Jesus is worshipped.

Back in November I wrote this post, and after I put the last period on the last sentence I knew it wasn’t over I knew there was a deeper story hidden in between the lines wanting to be let out, and I say that with confidence because I had very little to do with writing that post, it pretty much wrote itself, and I thought someone should really finish writing the story.
You, came the words pressed upon my heart, I want YOU to finish writing it.

cricket cricket cricket
aaaand more crickets

Finish writing it.  The words were not shouting but rather whispering just simple quiet words pressed gently into my heart.
Finish writing the story

Oh c’mooon!!
Writer was never on my short list of career options, and writing a piece of fiction was NEVER in my thought process of possibilities.

Real writers are people… who well …..actually write
Writers are people who do what the experts say to do to become authentically real writers, and I am none of those things.

I have never been to a writer’s conference and I am not feeling the nudge to go anytime soon
I am not social media savvy.  I deactivated my facebook account several months ago and have no desire to reactivate it anytime soon.

I have never been on Twitter and don’t plan to anytime soon.
I have a handful of followers and my blog posts do not garner comments high in the double digit numbers.

I have no subscribers.
I did not buy my domain name but rather use blogger because it is free.

There are people who actually want to do that sort of thing…I am not one of them.
There are blogs way more popular than mine, they have hundreds of followers and their posts command an equal number of comments they are the logical choice to write the story, not me.

Philippians 2:13 tells us that it is for God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose. 
I stepped back from writing this blog to give myself more time to finish writing the story, but I didn't do it quietly but rather I went kicking and screaming, but the morning I said yes to God I was sitting in my car during rush hour traffic and the sky lit up with crosses written in the clouds… and the smoke from the airplane fuel and I felt peace wash over me and I knew that is what I supposed to do.

And then the condemning voices came.  I would sit in front of a blank computer screen becoming best buddies with a little button called delete, I listened to the voices laughing me, ridiculing me, telling me I was kidding myself, the voices of defeat and discouragement, telling me I am inadequate, not worthy, not good enough, reminding me of everything I am not.
When the enemy is bothering us it means we are bothering him, we are corrupting his effectiveness, because if we weren’t he would not be so intent on trying to take us down.
Matthew 7:7-8
Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks and the door will be opened.

Day after day I would sit at my desk with my head cupped in my hands wondering what in the world I got myself into, did I make a mistake?  Did I hear Him wrong?  Repeating the same prayer over and over.

Dear Heavenly Father, please guide my thoughts and put the words on my heart that you want me to write, I can’t do this without You Father, I just can't.
When I wrote the post Heart Song, I had no idea that I was writing it as much for myself as I was for anyone who has a song inside of them knocking them around struggling and fighting to get out but instead letting the voices keep their song locked away inside.
The tugging came a quiet gentle familiar tug of the voice of my Heavenly Father.
Write the story for Me. 
I finally got the first 1,000 words on the page without deleting them and I felt peace that the words I had written were the words I was supposed to write.
So I am writing the story with no expectations, I am writing it for the pure joy and peace I feel when I write, I am writing it for the audience of my heavenly Father because He told me too, and the voices don’t carry weight anymore.  I don’t have to care if anyone will ever read it or even like it, I don’t have to worry about what I am going to do with it or what will become of it, I am doing it on the Father’s instructions, for the pleasure of Him, to honor and glorify Him and all that He has done in my life.

1 Corinthians 10:31
So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do it all for the glory of God. Do not cause anyone to stumble, whether Jews, Greeks or the church of God-even as I try to please everybody in every way. For I am not seeking my own good but the good of many so that they may be saved.

What are the voices discouraging you from finishing? from starting? from doing?
Proverbs 3:6
in all your ways acknowledge him and he will make your path straight.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

ch ch changes

I have never done that pick a word for the year thingy, I just never felt moved to do it, this year for 2012 I picked a word

It just seemed to fit,  2011 was not my best year ever, it was the year of trials, my life crumbling down around me so fast and so furious at times that I thought it was the second coming of Job.  

As believers we know that every season has a beginning and an end and when I emerged from the fiery furnace of that trial a deeper more committed and connected relationship with my Heavenly Father followed and Deeper just seemed to be the right word for 2012, and then I found myself adding the word soar in front of it and there it was my words for 2012.

A new word for a new year and new changes upon me, a nudge to lay this blog down for a while and pick up writing projects that have been long sitting dormant on my computer, nudges to sow into new relationships that have been divinely brought into my life, nudges to soar deeper into my relationship with Jesus.

I still fully intend to visit my sweet bloggy friend’s blogs and  I reserve the right to still write blog posts from time to time it just won’t be as often while I explore this new journey that I feel is being laid before me.


Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Heart Song

Will you play your song My child the one that is on your heart?

Will you play your song My child and let it rise?
Will you play your song My child and let it out?

Will you play your song My child and will you play it for Me?
I know your heart My child and what burdens it so

I know your heart My child and the dreams you don’t dare dream
I know your heart My child and what you keep so tightly locked away

I know your fears My child of letting it out
I know your disappointments My child and those things that have shattered you so

I know My child your heart broken and born from such wounds
I know My child because in My own hands I kept it near and I swaddled it close

But I know My child the song that strums so softly on your heart, I know My precious child because I am the gardener who planted it there
I look at you My child with such beauty to share, I know this My child because I created you Myself

I know My child the beauty that awaits I know this My child because I planned Myself
I know My child all those things that happened to you

I know My child you don’t understand, just know that I walked beside you and held your hand
I know your heart My child, and the song that sings inside of it

I know My child every word to the music that beats against your flesh and bone

I know My child because I wrote it Myself
But I know My child you are not yet ready stand and play your song for the world

So My child will you take My hand and play your song?
Will you play your song the one that is on your heart?

Will you play your song and let it rise?
Will you play your song and let it out?

Will you play your song My child and play it for Me?

Matthew 11:28-30
Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.

Linking with Tracy for Winsome Wednesday

Sunday, January 1, 2012

small stones

“Ever wonder where you’d end up if you took your dog for a walk and never once pulled back on the leash?” Robert Brault

Be strong in the Lord
And never give up hope
You’re gonna do great things I already know Gods got His hand on you
So don’t live in fear
He’ll break open the skies
For those who cry out His name
But wait everything can change in a moments time
The words to those songs blaring from my stereo speakers

“Is anyone even working at the radio station or did they just put those two songs on repeat and leave for Christmas break? That is all I have been hearing lately.”

I grumbled through clenched teeth as I flipped the off switch, feeling out of breath like I just finished running the Boston Marathon.

I have been feeling anxious and jittery for days, not in a worried sort of way but rather in an out of sorts sort of way, pacing the floors and wearing a trench between the kitchen and the living room. My Bible becoming a permanent fixture in my palms flipping through it looking for something… anything that will tell me where to put these feelings I am having.

The tissue like pages almost turning themselves and settling in on 2 Corinthians, the words boldly dancing before my eyes as if they are the only ones written on the page.

2 Corinthians 4:16-19

Seeing the Invisible

Therefore we do not lose heart.  Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day.  For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.

We humans are spectacular at getting in our own way.  We see our outward man perishing through the ordinary everydayness, nothing is moving nothing is changing it is just another day when we so desperately don’t want it to be just another ordinary day we want Him to break open the skies for us we want to do great things, so we talk ourselves a blue streak until we have finally sold ourselves on the idea that God waiting for us to move, convinced that He needs our “help”.

So very rarely does His timing match with ours, so often we think we are more ready than what we actually are. 

We begin the journey of our own making, our legs moving faster beneath us with every step we take until we are full steam ahead down the road that we think is going to carry us closer to our destination kicking aside those small stones that we think will cause us to stumble and fall.

It is not about our destination but the small stones we find along the side of road on our way there

Those small stones that are seemingly getting in our way but are renewing our inward man day by day, glory to glory, even when it looks as if our outward man is perishing.

The small stones of what looks to be the ordinary is where our story is being written, the voice of the gift that God has chosen to give us is being matured, our faith strengthened.

We don’t know everything, even when we think we do

Sometimes we are called to be teachers, but more often we are students, students of the Word and students in God’s classroom, our inward man constantly being renewed through the journeys we are put upon headed towards destinations that were written into the plan for our lives long before we were born.

And In the midst of the regular, when everything looks the same as it always has when it looks like nothing is going to change does He then hold out  His hand for us and tell us to get up, it is time to go.

In a moment’s time He breaks open the skies.

And when we look back on our journey we discover that those small stones that we tried to kick out of our way were not indeed stumbling blocks but rather essential to our destination, preparation for what was up ahead and the gifts we were going need when we got there.

A New Year is upon us a fresh start, instead of arm wrestling with God for the control rather let Him lead you around the dance floor you never know where you will end up.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

A Savior is Born

I am reading Grace for the Moment Morning and Evening Journal by Max Lucado, this excerpt from the book is my favorite, it describes it so beautifully... so beautifully.

She brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped
Him in swaddling cloths, and laid Him in a manger.
Luke 2:7, NKJV

Christ grew in Mary until he had to come out. Christ will grow in you until the same occurs. He will come out in your speech, in your actions, in your decisions. Every place you live will be a Bethlehem, and every day you live will be a Christmas. You, like Mary, will deliver Christ into the world.

“Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Col. 1:27 NIV).

Grace for the Moment Morning and Evening Journal By Max Lucado

Merry Christmas

Sunday, December 18, 2011

payback is a dish best served coaled

Dear Nephew,

I have loved you since you were just a tiny peanut in your mother’s tummy
I loved you when you were lying in an incubator in the hospital weighing in at just a few pounds holding back the tears as I saw so many tubes and wires hooked up to your tiny little body not knowing if I would ever see you grow up. 

But God had you in the palm of His hand and I have been truly blessed to watch you grow into a fine young man, blessed indeed.
I look back on these precious 13 years we have spent together…

The time you feed me a piece of juicy fruit gum laced with chili powder
The endless mac and cheese and chicken nuggets I ate with you, I have never been able to look at those food groups quite the same again

The bouquet of stickiness you got stuck in my hair that had to be CUT OUT
The time you thought it was a good idea to lead me on a bike ride through a construction zone, the marks of that little field trip forever tatooed on my body.

The entire weekends I spent putting back together what you thought was a good idea to take apart
I still can’t get the door on my cabinet to shut properly

Our fifth spin on the tilt-a-whirl at the fair, I am not even gonna go there, but we both know what happened… I told you so
The time you programmed my cell phone… to GERMAN

When you drove my car into a pole, okay so that was my fault I should have waited until you were five to teach you how to drive
But I have to say you truly outdid yourself this last time, you got Auntie good hiding Bailey the Basset Hound’s toy mouse under my end table, and it is with much love that I give you this gift of coal for Christmas this year. I hope you understand it was all I could afford.  I had to spend the money I saved for your Christmas present on my visit to the emergency room after I ran into a wall and thought I broke my nose scrambling from the beady eyes that glared menacingly at me from underneath my table …thinking they were real.

A precious 13 years indeed.
Merry Christmas sweetheart I love you very much,
Love, Auntie Kandi

Ps. Payback is a dish best served coaled

(I did get my nephew a real Christmas gift, but I think I am going to let him sweat it out a bit thinking all he getting from me is a chunk of coal)