There was nothing left to say... Except, "Can I call you?"

My hand within his hand caused great harm....

I struggle with a moment from my life when the hand of my father covered mine and those things that followed that moment.  While there is more freedom in my heart than I ever anticipated walking within this event still had its capacity to haunt me.

The transitions and circumstances of life have been swirling in marvelous opportunities to enter into a whole new realm of trust.  Yesterday while circumstances continued to pour out their ambiguity and  some false beliefs were attempting to push within upon my soul, I prayed that Father would take me into His arms in a whole new way.

Shamelessly in need of Him, unabashadly placing myself before Heaven declaring that need... Asking Him the questions of what does it mean for you to be my Father in these moments?  I need you.. What does it look like for you to Father me here?

I did not need some trite, self made religious response nor some well made choice towards righteousness, as profitable as that last one is I needed more... I needed Him.  I needed a moment to be solely Him.

Enter this beautiful new friend who started Facebook messaging me in the evening.

Peace ebbed and flowed throughout the day and throughout the day there were moments of sorrow and there were moments of worship and there were moments of calm and there were moments as if I was a newborn babe, I cried forth my need for Abba.

I would walk through the day.  I would be productive and I would be still.  I would reach out to Him and I would reach out to friends.  I would sit. I would sit and wait for Him.  I would sit and wait for Him and I would weep.

As the day ended and in faith I believed that He was moving...  A moment that could only come straight from His heart was about to unfold.

Her message came as His voice came... "I'm about to heal your heart." And He spoke about my future and where He was leading me...   Then her message, "Can I show you a quick painting I did about the writing thing?"  I truly appreciate this woman's talent.  I wrote back, "I would love to see it."  

Is what came as I pressed the link!

A picture of the Heavenly Father's hand, My Father's hand, over a child's hand, my hand,  and they were writing together... This was the promise the Lord gave the artist.  This woman had never heard any part of my story.  Stunned. Absolutely stunned. Moved into a place I could not even express, I asked her, "Can I call you?"

I think a dear dear friend who I shared this moment with gave me the most precious verse to attach to this whole moment, from Deuteronomy 2:7  ---  "The Lord your God has blessed you in all the work of your hands.  He has watched over your journey through this vast wilderness. These forty years the Lord your God has been with you and you have not lacked anything!!!"

I am 41 and while this past year has had it's formidable moments I have been hearing the Lord declare that the Winter has passed .. The words out of Song of Solomon have riveted my soul.  I have stepped into writing in ways I haven't before and we are approached a geographical move and while the winds and the waves still rage the promises of Christ and the immense affection of Father are declaring, "We are going to the other side."

To now have this image before me of the Father's hand over a child's hand and they are writing together washes away the images of yesterday... May His grace and kindness spread over you and may your hearts thrive under the tender, passionate, jealous affections of our God!

Chrisie Council is the artist of this magnificent picture... This is her blog:  http://www.christinecouncil.com/writing-with-my-daddy.html

Between you and I....

"You need something... a gift... something special.  Something that is just between you and Him."  Those were the words my friend spoke to me before I had even known the Lord for a few months.

Looking down at the pond and watching the ripples cross the water I thought that every time I would look at water I would remember this moment.  That that would be what our "special something" was....

Special somethings between me and Him.  Special somethings between my God and I.

These days, currently,  have me stepping into multiple writing projects.  The newest of which is entitled, Heaven's Eyes:  A journey of a child finding a father....

Where my husband has written an amazing book for Seers entitled, The Modern Seer, this book will take the tone of a relational journey of a seer finding Father God...

This story of the V of birds was one of my first gifts.....


In the days following my friend's declaration to me that I must have a signature gift from God I spent more time by the watery lakes at this Christian college than anywhere else.  Watching the ripples and watching the movement of the water and watching the affects the winds would have upon its surface.

Jesus would catch my attention and woo me towards another place... and as we broke out of the wooden area into the clearing, He would speak, "look up."

Not one... not two... not ten... the sky filled with V after V of Canadian Geese flying over head... Hundreds of them all flying perfectly in these very defined and very long Vs. "That's your gift." He would say.

Twenty years have passed...  and those dearest to me know the kisses and the moments through out my life where even in places and seasons where the geese don't fly they most certainly do for me....  I think my favorite story was eighteen years ago.. In a dream a V of geese flew over head and then the Lord woke me up, "go outside." He would say.  The moment my foot hit the dirt by the door my eyes lifted and there in the sky was a V of geese.  "I promise you." He said.

He was speaking on some very tender places I was walking and He was pulling out all the stops.

Then came the day again many years ago when Jim and I were in Virginia at a pastor's conference.  Everyone else was driving to the conference center, but I knew I was supposed to walk there....  And I knew that He was directing my path very specifically.  On my way to the meetings I passed a florist and there were white roses in the window.  "You're my white rose." He said... And I pulled from all the imagery and all the meaning that that has scripturally  and thought it sweet. 

I thought it sweet.  

Then in a display that only our Father can pull off He would bring me to my knees.  Weeks after the conference, I was back home in the Manhattan area.  And He would smile, He would smile and He would say, "look."  

And as I did. As I looked up and over to my left... Not one... Not two..  but a dozen of White Rose trucks would drive by... Now if you have never seen a white rose truck again you could think "sweet."

Except there is a line of copy that they have written upon their trucks.  There is a white rose and then there are the words that say, "White Rose You Deserve The Best."

"Never will I leave you.. Never will I forsake you."

In a moment it went from sweet to powerful and awe inspiring...

The flowers of the field... The birds of the air... He is ever mindful of them... He is ever mindful of us...  Between He and I, Between you and Him.. there lays a most majestic and personal love relationship that nothing can ever touch.......

It so thoroughly reminds me of the song, Abandon, that a friend of ours, Josh Young, sing...   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqvCo4JpXAA&list=PL5623B67D1D706A42&index=1

Enjoy...

Much Love and Affection to You!!!

More than anyone of us could truly fathom...

My eyes beheld her as did my heart. I watched. “May I sit with you.”

This woman looked like there was a story upon her life that I needed to know.

How does one honor a stranger?

How do I not impose?

It wasn't just mere curiosity

There was a pull between us, she recognized it as well.

This beautiful older woman upon whose life I entered as a stranger and left as a friend, a daughter, a sister....

Her smile lit up the room with a weight of the wise old sage who has learned the secret of joy beyond circumstance. Her voice carried with it the melody of one whose learned to sing through tears. Her hand offered a touch full of the knowledge of comfort through the ages.

I will be forever indebted to this most magnificent human being.

We sat upon the stoop, her and I.

I wondered what others saw. Did they see a pregnant girl and a homeless lady? Did they see us as they rushed by through their days? Did our song matter to them? Did their song matter to us?

We live in the proximity of countless other human beings. They are each a bearer of the image of our God. Whether acknowledged or not, they matter. More years have passed but those moments sitting with that precious woman have imprinted upon my life like few others. A moment that could have been so easily past by but has been so cherished through the decades.

Whether with stranger or loved one moments pass and to try to capture each and carpe diem every single one might send even the most contemplative of us into over drive.... But it is in seizing the essence of the day and in the breathing in of the fleeting moment where we taste the realness of life.

In the pausing and feeling the warm laundry that comes out of the dryer, in enjoying the aroma of freshly picked and cut up strawberries, in enjoying a Carolina peach.. life is lived. In smiling and looking into the eyes of another human being, in wondering about their life and their story mine is made richer.

The notes of our lives saturate the air.. the melodies of sorrow and sadness and lyrics of joyous triumph, the melancholy of hum drum living and the ecstasy of highlighted occasions. Each note and strain vibrates through the air and the song of mankind forms an umbrella under which we all live... More united together than anyone of us could truly fathom.  

Did you ache?

Did you ache?


Did you stand out on the balcony of your home watching the horizon?


Did you stand at your door leaning up against its frame begging it to hold you up as your heart weighed you down?


Did everything in you remember his smell, his smile, his voice, his touch?


Did every part of your heart ache to the place it felt like it was going to burst without him?


Did the night hours find you sleepless as your mind wondered how he was and if he was safe?


Did your cheeks receive the rivers of tears that were shed?


Did your mind think it was a mirage at first glance?


Did your heart lodge in your throat?


Did you trip over your robes as your feet hit the ground running?


Did everything in erupt and burst into joy as you touched his flesh and took him in?


Did your nose take in the sweet fragrance of your son though it really should have been pig slop that you smelled?


Did your hands trembled as you put the family ring upon his finger and clothe him with your cloak ?


Did you gasp out the words between joy and tears as you declared your son was home?

What happens when you get lost at a stop sign?

The day had begun on a note that placed my feet in hell.  Remembrances of past failures held up to me as accusations attempted to swallow me whole.  What image of myself was I to believe?  What mirror being held up would hold within it's reflection real truth?

Any given day holds within it more tasks than can ever fully be accomplished, only lending themselves even more to the possibility of perceiving the day and times wrongly.  Are those tasks left undone an indication of what benefit I bring forth to the human race?

Delight found encouraging others to open their ears and eyes to hear and see, another mirror held up.. an eternal one.  Words flowing, declaring the nature and character of the One whom I love and am loved by,  words flowing calling hearts to open and not become hard or calloused to that which the Lover wants to speak forth.

Speaking those words but listening as well.

Appointments that need to be kept.  Back to the pediatrician's office with the one I can't make well.  With the one that I am told about "gray" medicine.  This is not an ear infection, this is not a sore throat. This is not black and white.  This is "gray." This is a years worth of unanswered questions and a son enduring physical pain.    I love our pediatrician   I trust him.  I sat in his office and wept.  I can't make him well.  You can't make him well.  He is in pain.

More tests.  More waiting.

Errands that need to be run.  Milk that needs to be bought. Bread needed to make the millionth peanut butter and jelly sandwich within our household. Driving to the store.

Other  realizations land upon my heart.  I think back to the morning and  of how during its  hours our oldest son was absent.  Staying at a friend's house for the week as a parent travels, he wasn't waking up within the confines of our home.  A reality that is about to come upon us in fullness as he takes the next steps of his life.

More questions. More thoughts.

A stop sign.  A pause. Maybe too long.  Foot on brake. Hands on stirring wheel.  Eyes lost in a daze. Warm sun shining its light into my being.  Wandering heart. Wandering mind.  Mirrors of the past, shouts of accusation, illness, growth, life, need.  Tears.  Cheeks.   Change.  Doubt.  Fear.


Then there is her.  Potentially one of the most joyous moments of my day.  Picking the 4 year old up at preschool.  Man, she runs.  She sees me and she runs towards me.  Bright beautiful face, huge shining eyes, huge amazing smile.  Pure adoration.  Mutual.  In her heart she finds delight at the sight of me.  I find delight at the sight of her.

More errands.  More thoughts.

Walking bare foot to the bus stop.  "Momma, Twirl me, Momma." Sitting in the South Carolina warmth soaking through my exterior.  Warming my flesh.  She curls up into my lap not wanting to sit by the ants or the spiders, but finding comfort within my criss crossed legs.  I stare at her.  She is life to me.  Beauty.  Simple pleasures.

More warmth.  More simplicity.

Leaping off the bus, he arrives.  The bus is his magic carpet.  He will repeat Kindergarten.  In the scope of things it will all be alright.  I see his joy, his abounding body, and I know the gift of time will fashion him well.  I am not worried.  Not really.  This road we have walked before.  I've seen his siblings walk roads struggling through early elementary to flourish within the upper grades.  I want success for him.  I want joy for him.  But he is success and he is joy.  Standards and measurements don't get to dictate that, not really.

More joy.  More love.

The complexities of a household, of a life, of a family.  The ever ebb and flow of its tides.  The ever certainty that certainties aren't  of this world.  That complexity dwells and pulls upon our hearts and the frailty of our lives.

More errands.  More thoughts.

Sitting at the DMV parking lot.  Thinking of this town. Thinking of this place. Our oldest son became a driver here.  We are leaving soon.  The familiarity of the municipality and its streets will leave my life.  Uncertainty strikes again and again.  Another parked place.  More tears.  More deep breaths.

More warmth.  More simplicity.

"Neither have I walked in a pretense of things greater than I...." Psalm 131:1 Aramaic bible in plain english.  Some matters are too lofty for me... some things must just be held open handed before Him.

Moments that hold too much.  A heart struggling to withstand all the change.  Longing for simplicity. Stability.  Consistency.  Some semblance that the changing tides won't sweep in and steal feet from out from beneath where I stand.

Naming and claiming the truths I hold dear won't suffice.  But I do think upon Him.  More tears.  Head now upon stirring wheel.  Ache of leaving.  Ache of the unknown.  Fingers aching to latch onto something.  Finding the robe.  Finding the garment.  Amidst a crowd of another kind. Pushing through.  Desperation.  Him.  Lost in a crowd.  Finding Him.  Power flows. Transaction.

More joy. More love.

Pause. Selah.  Rest.

In repentance and rest you will be saved.  In quietness and trust is your strength.  Isaiah 30:15

In the thickness of the cloud the fog lifted

All the people perceived the thunder and the lightning flashes and the sound of the trumpet and the mountain smoking; and when the people saw it, they trembled and stood at a distance. Then they said to Moses, “Speak to us yourself and we will listen; but let not God speak to us, or we will die.”Moses said to the people, “Do not be afraid; for God has come in order to test you, and in order that the fear of Him may remain with you, so that you may not sin.” So the people stood at a distance, while Moses approached the thick cloud where God was.  Exodus 20:21

Within the clouds I touch Him, allow Him to lay a hold of me and the fog dissipates... His nature transforms mine.. calling me forward into all that which He is...  we must receive in this place so as to be propelled forward into His nature... empowered to love with the extravagance in which pours forth... receiving from another person will never bring that fullness of transaction... We must all walk into the thick cloud where God resides no matter how disorienting it is because we will emerge full and shine forth.....

Propriety has been the lock, fear the chains ... Christ the key.

I so very clearly know what it is expected from me in almost all social situations I find myself in, I was trained in propriety and correct behavior to the point where it exacted life.   The thick  cloud of God would have terrified me.  It did terrify me.  I then would allow others to enter in and be satisfied to sit at their feet.

I could perform like a robot or a trained monkey. I would carefully meter out and assess social risk and make sure that my heart would not be laid bare as to embarrass myself or humiliate self or family.   The thick cloud seemed like it asked to much for a heart like mine so full of fear....


The journey of this last season the Lord has been adamant with me, challenging my heart into places where I have not wanted to walk... in laying down knowing what is right and appropriate and reasonable and allowing my heart to be what it was and not demand it conform into what I deemed appropriate places.   He has so thoroughly beckoned me into the cloud.

Not using it as free license but grappling with the desire of His heart for me, I am beckoning my own heart to receive perfect love deeper and deeper into my being as to cast out fear.... His love is that which mesmerizes me and within which I get lost, it must so thoroughly saturate my entire being as to propel me into the life He most earnestly desires for me to live... Free from fear.. alive and living towards Him.

I allowed others to speak for Him because I was afraid of the depth of the cloud that I saw Him reside within, but now I have learned that emerging from those most mysterious places I am being altered more firmly into His likeness.  The more firmly I come in touch with Him as He is, the more I am pulled into His affections, the less I want my own ways and the more I hunger for His, the more I see His flow forth from my life... While upon His likeness I gaze I am so completely brought into awe.

"So that you may not sin..."  Know God so that you don't miss the mark... Know God for yourself so that your own heart knows His ways.  It is His passion and His nature that continually draws me forward... It is my own frailty that faints, it is His marvelous kindness that causes me not to do so but to stand and recognize all that which He is... more than anything He is a Father whose love abounds more than words could ever convey...  But within the thick cloud no words are truly needed .. the interaction takes care of itself.  But again another can not bring that out of the clouds for you... you must enter into the mystery and depth yourself....  It will cost you everything, but in return you live... not a life of propriety and constriction  but one so thoroughly abandoned and full of trust and hope and life...  

How did I know? It was a feeling I didn't ignore and just go about having a pleasant meal.

"How did you know?"  She asked.

She had just arrived. She looked great.  I looked at her, I saw her eyes, my heart saw her eyes and ignoring her first answer of 'good', in response to me asking how she was, I asked her again.

She looked back at me as I was still looking at her.  I can't say it was anything the Lord was telling me, it was more of a feeling.  A feeling to not let the time together to just stream on in a friendly and polite manner.  I was so happy to see her, so happy to be together, but my heart wanted her heart to know that she was seen.

Total side note... My pastor is doing a series on this very topic, "Seen."  You must simply listen to it all... today's is probably posted on Tuesday, I think that is what they do and you should definitely listen.    http://renovatuschurch.com/media.php?pageID=5

Back to my friend... I wanted her to know that she was seen.  Beyond anything she did, she was known and loved and cherished.  I wanted that for her.. I want that for you....

.............................................................................................................................


Did they hear his screams?  Did they know his torment?  Did they miss him as he lived away from them residing with the dead in the tombs?

He had more in common with the dead then with the living.  Did you ever feel that way?  Did life ever land you in a place where through your eyes you peered through sockets only to watch the world go by you yet you were so far removed from it all?

Do you want to scream?  Are you afraid even if you did no one would hear you?

Did you ever slice  at your own flesh? Tearing it to pieces.  Because the physical pain was nothing compared to that which was reverberating inside your being.


The Gerasene demoniac, is probably one of the characters of the bible that I have the most in common with, while my heart relates to Mary searching for Jesus' body among the tombs my life more resembled the demoniac having lived among them.

The verses in Mark 5 stay with me and tell my story....  living away from people, even if I lived amidst them I lived far far removed... keeping myself  hidden,  screaming... maybe not outwardly but the silent howls that filled out my being landed me time and time again bound and dying.

The pain and the torment, the mental anguish of a life so very horribly gone wrong.  Laying dazed off succumbing to the pull into nothingness was where I made my bed.

One of the parts I truly relate to is when after all is said and done and the people  "observed the man who had been demon-possessed sitting down, clothed and in his right mind, the very man who had had the "legion"; and they became frightened."

Have you ever been frightened by something Jesus was doing?  Have you ever been frightened by how thoroughly you are known? Truly known by Him!

You see I don't remember his name but I remember our interactions....

I remember being at this Christian college, newly saved... having met Jesus one rainy night  via a visitation after I had run away to join the Amish but landed my behind in a psych ward..( Seriously, if you haven't read my testimony none of that is a joke....) All I knew was that He spoke, He interacted, He healed, He saved, He delivered....  The notion that He didn't do those things were not a part of my understanding, nor did I realize that there were people who knowing Him didn't believe He still did those things...

I wouldn't have been saved, healed or delivered but Him acting and speaking and healing.

Now this other student had a problem.  He so thoroughly didn't believe that God did any of that except now there was this living, breathing testimony he couldn't make go away.  During the semester he would try to engage me in conversations about why I shouldn't be reading the NIV, and I would tell him that Jesus and I had just gotten back from a walk and how the Lord was teaching me that the bible really was the word of God, by holding my hand and talking to me as we walked... The guy I am sure thought I needed to be back at that psych hospital.

I had a really hard time believing that the Bible was actually the word of God, so what did Jesus do.. well, we went on these walks during which He would speak to me.  I would come back and tell a friend what He had said only for that friend to turn around and show me where word for word all that Jesus had spoken to me was in the bible.  Maybe it was that I was reading the NIV that really gave the guy the problem.  Maybe it was that Jesus so thoroughly wanted me to trust the bible, as the word of God that it really didn't matter to Him what version I was reading at the time.

I did make the switch to the NASB.  Just saying.

At the end of that semester he came up to me and told me that knowing me terrified him.  He couldn't dismiss how different my life was from what it had been, and he couldn't negate that the only one to ever witness to me, well.. it was Jesus answering my prayer asking if He was real.


...................................................................................................................

So back to my friend.

 Jesus wouldn't let the man follow Him.  Instead the instructions to "Go home to your people and report to them what great things the Lord has done for you, and how He had mercy on you."  Mark 5:20

"For once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy." 1 Peter 2:10

I am even more undone by Hosea 2:23  "I will sow her, for Myself in the land.  I will have compassion on her who had not obtained compassion. And I will say to those who were not my people, 'You are My people!' And they will say, 'You are my God."

My life is summed up by 2 Corinthians 1:3-4  "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

Did you ever ache to be seen? Really seen?  Cherished, really truly cherished? Known, really fully known?  I lived my whole life in that place... lost, frightened, alone...   It is terrifying to turn to your left and your right and even while you might be surrounded by people, you realize how thoroughly alone you are.

 I guess there is something within me that as far as it is with me if I can see, cherish and know someone than may it be... If I can speak into someone how seen, cherished and known they are by God then may I never be silent,  may one less person not feel like they have spent a whole meal with someone, or a day, or whatever time spent and walk away feeling like they played the right part but perished within.

I have known and received mercy and compassion and comfort... I remember so thoroughly what it feels like to not have them, to not belong to anyone or anything.. to not be a people, nor to know comfort.  It is a pain that if I can stand and interrupt within another than I will stand all day.

How did I know?  It was a feeling I didn't ignore and just go about having a pleasant meal.....