Make Us One

Father, make us one;
as You are with the Son
and the Spirit...

Jesus, our sacrificial lamb
led to the slaughter
for a perfect atonement;
draw our hearts together in love
to lead those that have not seen You
believe in Your love by the power
of the Holy Spirit...

...and thank you, Spirit; for the
sublime comfort You offer as an extension
of the Father's love...
quickening our spirits to hear Your whispers
as You lead us in that perfect way.

He Rejoices Over Us

Zephaniah 3:17 "...He will rejoice over you with singing." NKJV

He rejoices over us with singing;
celebrating our existence
and finding joy in hearing His own voice
as the music washes over us...

Our security and comfort;
eternal hand of safety and warmth...
joyfully holding our lives in His hands;
and wrapping His spirit around us in peace.

The Hook

I have been watching the DVD of the last Chronicles of Narnia movie that was put out by Disney a few years ago. The white witch manipulated Edmund with skill and an obvious knowledge of human nature. His unwitting help in her plan to destroy the human intruders and conquer Aslan became clear to him only after a measure of damage was done. There were "hooks" in his nature that made this possible. One of these hooks was his desire to cover his tracks. He doesn't come clean about his contact with the white witch when Lucy discovers him in Narnia for the first time. In response to the white witch's threat to the fox, Edmund volunteers damaging information in an attempt to appease her malice towards the creature. Her praise of his honesty is a cold comfort to him at the same time the fox appeals to him as royalty. The prophecy is acknowledged as the fox addresses Edmund as "Your Majesty".
The white witch's action of freezing the butterfly to death and turning it to stone speaks of the death that sin causes as those hooks dig in and begin the fester the affected area of "flesh".
How many times have we tried to cover our sin in full view of the Father's eyes? In 1 John 4:19, we are told that if we confess our sins, He is faithful to forgive us and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. The lie we believe about needing to cover ourselves when we mess up is an all too effective hook that festers in us as we hold onto the hook. Our efforts at trying to cover up the hook and pretend that all is well accomplish nothing to benefit us or others that are affected by the hook. Often, I think that we have stone butterflies caught within our spirits in the form of dead zones; those hooks that have been brought down as we unwittingly embrace the death caused by our sin.
The triumphant return of Aslan(thinly veiled reference to the risen Christ)restores the dead flesh and ignites the fire within once again. Our joy and fulfillment come as we allow Him to remove the hooks and continually learn to forsake impaling ourselves with those hooks in the first place. That process will not complete itself until every knee bows and every tongue confesses that Jesus is Lord.

Home and Hearth

My husband has this theory of male/female roles that I have found truly amusing; oh, I meant to say amazing:)...The male is the hunter-gatherer as in the cave-man days and the female is geared towards cave maintenance. Yes, there is some truth in that; yet the overall simplification of gender roles has me scratching my head. My raison d'etre as been reduced to home-making; while the pressure of the surrounding culture would have me be the career woman that brings home half of the game captured on the way back from beating the rugs...

The cold fact is that I am a domesticated female concerned at least in part with home and hearth. I may have to become the career woman at some point; but I am still in the process of trying to figure that out. I cashier at a local supermarket and work for a home care agency as well. My value to society will be gauged on the level of education my children achieve, the car in my driveway, and the degrees listed on my resume. I am in trouble.

I am not in the least the picture of the Proverbs 31 woman. Lord willing, I will grow closer to that ideal as I draw closer to the Lord. In the meantime, I will seek Him for the answers on how to combine home and hearth with bringing home the road kill.

I just hope my insurance will cover me this time...

Joy,
Lynne

A New Day

Fulfill my joy by being like-minded, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind. -Philippians 2:2

Harmony can be difficult among the body of Christ when our flesh gets in the way of our desire to follow Christ. Human frailty and hurt feelings cloud the issues with an emotional camouflage. Seeking Christ instead of a listening ear for our complaints is the key, I think; to getting us back to where we need to be. Letting go of real or perceived hurts frees us up to worship and grow towards who the Lord would have us become.

It is snowing outside at the moment. The wind is whipping aimless flakes of the white stuff in many different directions. It seems that modern life is much like this snow squall; so many things happening at once. Those little barbs of annoyance or injured pride often seem to lack reason; making us unsure of what happened to bring them about.

I believe that the Lord would have us put away our small annoyances in favor of seeing the big picture. We are human and so prone to falling far short of the Lord's compassion and mercy. The forgiveness and mercy we extend to our brethren will go a long way towards freeing us and them of the bondage of bitterness and roots of unforgiveness. It can happen to any one of us. The damage to our fellowship with each other and to God is seen in many ways: broken fellowship, a restlessness with our situations, and a distortion of the image that we represent to those who don't know Christ. Our joy will increase as we grow closer to the Father's heart.

Celebration

I have been reading a book of writers commenting about what they read and why they read it. It is compiled by Philip Yancy and is entitled, "Reality and The Vision: 18 Contemporary Writers Tell Who They Read and Why". Chapter 8 is entitled: The Devotional Masters: A Love Affair. There is one portion that speaks to me in particular. "...this notion that the ordinary stuff of life is filled with spiritual significance is a theme that reverberates throughout all the Devotional Masters. They take our days and our hours and invest them with a sacramental value. And they invite you, they invite me to discover that right where we are is holy ground, in the families we have been given, in the tasks that we are assigned, among our neighbors and friends. It is this that makes living in our modern world bearable, even enjoyable. Indeed, it enables us, as George Fox put it, to "walk cheerfully over the earth."

What an encouraging thought; to think that daily life has a sacred quality to it that can wash over us and color our days in His radiance. I will give it my best effort and send up a prayer to God when I am faced with a mountain of laundry. "Sacred" and "laundry" do not easily walk with each other in harmony according to my thought processes. Yet, in many ways; the performance of these daily duties exercises our spiritual muscles. We are considering others(who are in desperate need of a clean white load)in our actions. I pray that this thought brings you a new portal in your thinking; as it has brought into mine.

Jesus was practical, as I think of it...water into wine at the wedding, feeding the five thousand, etc. He gave us a model for seeing the practical as an invitation to seeing the divine. I will be forever thankful for His willingness to communicate His truth to a cracked vessel like me in terms that reach a human heart.

Joy and fresh bread to you,
Lynne

Giving Thanks

Happy Thanksgiving! If you actually have time to read this on Turkey day, get up now and check the pies in the oven before they burn. Charcoal is not the color of choice when the recipe says "brown". The burnt crusts do not count as a source of fiber. I hear about the food that I burn from my two toughest critics: my kids. I desire to save you the trouble of that scene. Get up and check the pies:)...

Good. Now don't you feel better? I feel better for having reminded you to take care of an important part of Thanksgiving. The pies. Yes, the pies. Pumpkin, apple, pecan, coconut cream, rasberry cream(my mom has a recipe that will make you want to jump up and shout "AMen"). I like a nice hot cup o'joe right next to my pie as I am eating it. I am getting all happy just thinking about it.

Right next to the cup of coffee and the delectable pie is a loved one I am blessed to have in my life. I am more thankful than ever for my loved ones. I could be having soup today, and I wouldn't feel deprived. The food that feeds me richly is from the hand of the Father; the gift of fellowship with those I hold dear. Not only do I have family to reminisce and enjoy the company of; I have a spiritual family at the same time. He created us to have fellowship with one another. What a gift that is for us all year long. The power of praise wells up in my spirit and burns off the mist of worldly care. He has His eye and His heart towards me, His child. Come what may, He is right here with me ready and able to keep me from being destroyed by the pressures of life.

I pray that you give thanks with me today and every day for those precious promises that He provides for us in His word. He is there with ear, hand, and heart ready and able to provide us with all things to sustain us. May His Spirit fellowship with you as you give thanks for all of the blessings in your life. Can't think of any right now?

Look across the table:).

Have a cup o'joy
and a fresh taste of the bread of heaven...

Lynne

A Taste of Quiet

It was actually quiet at my house for a brief spell this morning. Then the kids woke up and the house came alive again. We had a dose of excitement and noise last night. There was an accident down the road somewhere, and the road was blocked off right in front of our house. A fire truck, a passing ambulance, a couple of fire department vehicles, and the utility vehicles evaluating the power lines lit up the sky. We live on a busy road; which means that our power goes out periodically as a result of accidents. Then, the power went out. We camped out in the living room and fell asleep without the street light across the road casting its' light.

I am thinking now of when the lights go out in our spirits. We think the light is gone, and that we are left in the dark. That divine spark is still there, awaiting our attention. He calls to us even when we don't hear the "still, small voice" that speaks of life and hope.

I will leave you now with a parting prayer:

Lord, help us to hear Your voice when we think the light has gone out in our spirit. Remind us that you are with us always. Help us to offer up our "sacrifice of praise" and invite Your presence to illuminate our steps once more.
Amen

The New Math

Count it all joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds,
because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

James 2-4


In pondering my challenges,
the mountains seem to peak...
more lofty as I think on them
and consequently fail to seek
the source of all contentment;
counting more of the ragged edges
than the footholds available for my feet
as I try to climb the mountains unassisted;
not succeeding, yet counting all the more
those barriers to peace...

"Count it all joy..." the Spirit whispers to me;
reminding me of unseen hands moulding my clay
into something ultimately beautiful.
The new math of creation's renewal
bids me to count with a reckless abandon
those things that seem to be devoid of their comfort...
and see the glory of seeking His face
in joyful anticipation of fellowship and promise.
"count it all joy..." pours down with the cleansing flood
made available at the foot of the cross;
resting its waters in receptacles of anticipation
of counting the joys
and not the depths of the valleys.

I was reading that last poem to my mom over the phone this morning, and she was commenting that there would be no tears in heaven. I was telling her that she was right, and that the verse was talking about how he turns tears into joy. He "holds our tears" as an act of compassion towards us and brings us into the joy of morning after our weeping.

I further read her the verse about tracing the clouds, and she wept. It has been a difficult time for our family because of illness. The love of Jesus shared with each other is a drawing salve that takes the hurt in our spirits and starts the healing process. What joy the Father gives us when we follow His heart to love each other. The Lord has shown us mercy and has given us grace. His provision is truly amazing;
and as we see His hand at work I know we are assured of His love.

I raise my cup o'joy with yours as I embark on a new journey with the Lord today. He will meet my needs according to His riches in Christ Jesus. In true Oz fashion, I will recite that over to myself in order to allow it to permeate my thinking. The sword and the shield will be flying today, and my spunk has been renewed as the noonday.

May you rejoice this day in knowing that His grace is sufficient for all of your needs. We need each other; and as we celebrate His love in unity we will arise and show His glory to those who are perishing.

Cup O'Joy!
Lynne

Holding Our Tears

He holds our tears in heaven;
not wasting even one of them
as we seek His face.
Turning water into wine,
He showed His power to transform the ordinary
into that which was more prized;
showing grace and power with great humility...

He holds our tears in heaven;
saving them perhaps until the appointed time
that we are reunited at the marriage supper of the lamb;
fellowshipping with the saints through the ages
and enjoying the presence of the Lord
in the fruition of the promise...

Tracing the Clouds

Tracing the clouds with my fingers;
imagining how You made the stars
and set them all in place;
my eyes arise to heaven
and long to know if You are smiling
down at what You see in me...
Do I please You, father?
Have I heard You clearly as my feet of clay
travel on the dust of earth
and let my spirit soar up to where You are...
The clouds are air and water, Lord...
and they are still reflecting
the glory in Your hands to create beauty out of nothing.
As I finish tracing for the moment,
my spirit hears Your voice
reassuring me of Your love...
and leading me towards the words of life
prepared for me to walk with...

Steadfast?

"In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." -1 Thessalonians 5:18

"...we cannot always give thanks for the things themselves, but we can always give thanks for God's love and care in the things. He may not have ordered them, but He is in there somewhere, and He is in them to compel, even the most grievous, to work together for our good." -The God of All Comfort by Hannah Whitall Smith


It is the start of a new day as I write this. In my spirit, I am looking up towards the heavens and trying to see the hand of God in my circumstances. I am looking, and looking, and then looking again for the escape hatch that must be there somewhere. The camouflage that must have been there yesterday is still there today, and therefore it eludes me again. My next breath is reminding me of all the reasons I have to be thankful in this life. I am also reminded of the verses in the scriptures that compel and direct me to offer up my incense of thankfulness in the midst of the melee that is life.

I am hoping that today is the start of a fresh new idea that I haven't seen before. I am hoping that the Lord sets something in motion behind the scenes to jumpstart my job search and provide the right opportunity. I am praying that I would be "transformed by the renewing of my mind" so that the Lord would make me into who I was created to be for His glory. Ultimately, I am praying that the Lord would hold on to me when I can't see Him through the clouds around me.

In closing this brief passage of yearning, I pray that the Lord would spur you on towards the adventure He has for you today. May you praise Him and give thanks throughout your day and enjoy His presence through anything you are called to walk through.

Have a cup o'joy
and a fresh taste of the bread of heaven...

Lynne

Letting the Rocks Cry Out

Sister, don't let the rocks cry out
before you stand with hands upraised to praise Him!
Sister, don't let the rocks cry out;
letting those things without the breath of God within them
offer up their sacrifice of praise...

Brother, don't let the rocks cry out
before you offer up thanksgiving for His mercies!
Brother, don't let the rocks cry out;
witholding the garlands of praise from Him who created
the heavens and the earth with words;
the strength in His spirit propelling the elements into action...

Children, don't let the rocks cry out
before you sing together of His marvelous love!
Children, don't let the rocks cry out;
letting the sound of the praises in your hearts to escape;
inviting Him to inhabit your praises;
knowing that where Love is there is peace past human comprehension...

Arise

Let the praises rise to the throne of heaven
amidst the dust of earth;
cradling the wind with hues of purple
and mists of silver and gold...
seek the Lord and know beyond reason
that Glory revealed has provided
the road to salvation...
Arise and let the praises go forth;
inviting His presence
through colors of darkness;
knowing that truth lives in vibrancy
beyond and within the confines of the human spirit
...all because of love's enduring promises.

Divine Touch

Oh, that marvelous ache that propels
my spirit towards the throne of heaven...
deep unto deep touching
for the sake of divine yearnings.
Eternity in my heart;
I am in awe of the drawing salve that
pulls out the dust of earth
and rips the veil from my eyes...
giving me a fresh taste of the bread of heaven
as I breathe in the mundane
mingled in with the eternal.

Beginnings...

"In the beginning..." I read in Your word, Lord...
You started it all with Your words and Your hands...
setting in motion all history's vantage;
propelling creation towards predestined plan.
Beginning is not always easy, Lord;
yet You bid us to come...
away from the noise and commotion of busy days
towards solace found in communion with You.
From the beginning creation showed Your glory;
the beauty and function broke concept's ability to
place creation in a neat little box.
Joy became full when the hill fell under shadow;
permitting the sacrificed lamb to release the promise.

Sustaining Joy

Sacrifice of praise
arising from my spirit;
joy remaining from the vestiges
of past victories...
Allowing present concerns
and unresolved questions to float by;
looking past the mist of this present darkness
to discover the Rock awaiting me...
praise unfastening the tensile strength of
talon's grip upon my soul...
releasing me to soar with the bird I am watching
as I sit on solid ground.

Sunshine on Shadow

Sunshine in shadow
repels the depth of mental fire;
coexisting
light and dark
boxing with each other for positions
in the realm of glory...
Clarity revealed
through that contrast of wills;
flesh and spirit
competing for time and consideration;
penetrating gaze of light on darkness' fingers...
boring through evil with sword and shield...
flashing in conflict
for control of the soul.

Mercy's Gift

Mercy
came to me one day...
in elegance and grace;
presented as a soothing oil;
balm's generosity onto
the soul's canvas...
Mercy's gift
came in a box of redemption;
brought down
by Calvary's flow...
Mercy flows
over the scars and divots;
filling in gaps
created by
falling...
the flesh melting off
when the fire came to stay...
refining the dross
from carnage of flesh...

So Sweet

It is so sweet
to trust You, Lord...
Your mercies
refresh us
with the dawn of each new day.
Grace flows down
and the praises rise up,
enveloping pain
and pleasure
in the light of eternity.

I'll trust You, Lord
past the strain of reason;
holding onto
handles of faith
through focus on the words of life...
holding onto truth revealed.

It is so sweet to
hear Your voice...
from echoes of eternity
from nature's witness
from the whispers of inner confirmation...

It is so sweet, Lord;
when the song in the night
allows me
to touch the hem of your garment.

Intercession

Ezekiel 22:30
So I sought for a man among them who would make a wall, and stand in the gap before me on behalf of the land, that I should not destroy it, but I found none."

Looking out on the
sea's mist,
my spirit drawn to
dancing with a soft cloak;
the faces come into my memory
and bid me
kneel my spirit's will towards
the dew of heaven...
...the arms of Jesus
hold each one
in tender reverie...
proclaiming grace
and Word
as hedges against
erosions of faith
within human form;
and bringing back
the peace past conscious knowing
to rest upon and
heal
each
furrowed
brow.

Thoughts on Simplicity

I have been thinking of the simplicity of the gospel message. In conjunction with that thought, I have been thinking about the commandments that came down the mountain with Moses back in the book of Exodus. What if the Lord gave us daily punch lists? You know, the kind that come with a work order to a contractor?

Daily Punch List for Lynne
1. Please remember that I am God. Don't try to re-create a source of inspiration or comfort out of man-made contraptions. The computer is a tool that can be over-used. Get up and walk outside once in a while. Rake the leaves. Clean the floor. Practicality can be an exercise in worship.
2. Don't blame me when you get in trouble for doing something stupid. I am here for you, but don't get torqued at me for something you did. It wont get you anywhere you want to go.
3. Yearning for things over relationship and connection with people and their needs will draw you magnetically to trouble with a capital "T". Be aware of thinking the grass is always greener over the other side of the septic tank.
4. Don't harbor murder in your heart. This applies to your temper. There is a reason I included the account of Cain and Abel in the owner's manual. Remember the level of grace extended to you before you write someone off as not having value.

Alright, folks! I think I have enough of a punch list for now. This should keep me busy until Jesus comes back. If I get brave enough, perhaps I should finish the post. Until then, may you enjoy a cup o'joy and a fresh taste of the bread of heaven...

Love,
Lynne

Looking Up

I was noticing the colors in the trees yesterday afternoon. It was late afternoon, in fact, and the sun was casting a late afternoon light just behind the multi-colored leaves. The burst of red leaves among their green counterparts caught my eye and filtered down into my soul with alacrity and ease. If I had a camera with me, I would have taken a picture of it. I am writing now because the beauty just has to be shared.

A dash of color among the mundane; the ordinary being accented with contrast. It propels me to think about how life has those splashes of color thrown in to the ordinary days that we tend to look on with a vague discontent. This is the day that the Lord has made, and the scriptures do tell us to number our days. They are finite. Some days flow by with an efficient ease, and other days seem to trudge by us with weighted down shoes that are stuck on shuffling feet. Perception and accumulated stressors seem to conspire against our joy on a regular basis. We tend to look for something to show us an escape hatch of sorts.

I looked up again at the tree. The red reminded me of the cross. The blood freed us to see the abundant life that Jesus offered to us through His sacrifice. A dash of color in an autumn tree had been used by the hand of the Father to speak to my heart of His grace. I had to look up again to say "I love you" to Jesus for the natural greeting card.

Have a cup o'joy,
and a fresh taste of the bread of heaven...

Lynne

A Taste of Heaven

The day had come
on the heels of a dark night season.
The longing for heaven
propelled human form to prostrate yearning...

A taste of heaven came to rest;
and settled in as sweet rain on parched soil.
Fulfillment of promise
requited the sweet incense of prayer and worship...

Peace past the realm of human concept
...and faith as stalwart as the carrying beam
gave bedrock to the foundation
of a life that had squandered opportunity presented.

The day had come
on the heels of a dark night season...
Joy discovered in the morning of the soul;
replentishing the water of life from the hand of providence.

Sweet Conversation

I say "Good Morning" to the Lord
and wait for His reply...
thinking how elaborate and deep
His response will be...

"Good Morning, Lynne"
is what I hear...followed by,
"I love you"...

He is not what I expect sometimes,
and infinitely more...
as practical as dew and sun;
He knows my frame and considers the finite
capacity of my understanding.

Mercy He shows to one who does need it;
awaiting instruction and yearning for fellowship
with the One who speaks to my deepest parts
from the vantage point of eternity...

Sweet conversation from deep unto deep;
flowing through time and yet up-to-the-minute...
details attended to with soft nudging pokes;
and vision renewed in the light of His glory.

Morning Song

Looking up towards heaven,
this is the day that the Lord has made...
yet the new day with all of its' promise
retains vestiges of what clings and stings from yesterday...

"My mercies are new every morning" I can hear my Lord say;
yet the fog of emotion pulls me back to the land of regret and anxiety.
I try to cast my care on Him,
but the fishing pole at my side seems to hold onto whatever I attempt to cast.
I feel the care speed back to the depths of my soul...

"My grace is sufficient" adds the Spirit with patience;
knowing my frame is a package of dust and spirit
"fearfully and wonderfully made" as my Lord tells it...
and I choose to believe Him over whatever other source attempts to convince...

Lord, this is the day that You have made.
Help me to rejoice and be glad in the work of Your hands...
for I know that I know that your love endures forever;
awaiting my confessions of failures and fears...

Take my hand today, Lord, as every day...
and hold on tightly as I step out in faith;
knowing that Your grace is sufficient for my needs...
and that You are everything I need to survive.

Watching My Feet...

Watching my feet
as they walk ahead...
the sight of the ground below them
doesn't point the way anywhere.

The sound of my shoes hitting the pavement
reverberates up to the bones of my spine;
reminding me of the congealed dirt that I walk around in...

Watching my feet
as they walk ahead...
I realize that I can't see what is ahead of me;
making it easy for me to bump into a wall
...or someone else who is also watching their feet!

I feel a nudge to look up and I see
that watching my feet has hindered my steps;
as well as those walking around me;
circling each other in confusion;
bumping into each other as amusement park bumper cars...

Beyond the immediate scene of almost comical heights,
I can see the Lord waiting with outstretched hands...
inviting all who will respond to seek
the path of light.

While You Were Waiting...

While I was waiting for my life to start
the days and the years
came and went.

While I was waiting for something better,
the blessings I had were
laid out before me as a grand buffet.

While I was waiting for my big day to come,
the wind and the wheat blew;
friends called me over,
and the anticipation built up to a
high-flying peak.

While I was waiting for my child to come,
the sights of young mothers filled me
with joy overflowing...
and I dreamed of hearing my child's heart beat...

While I was waiting...
life carried on and presented itself
in glory and anguish;
flowing in grace
and calling me to fellowship with the Father...

While I was waiting...
He gave me life that I was waiting for.

"While you were waiting" I could hear Him say...
"I was preparing the paths ahead; adjusting and
moulding you to take the next step. While you were waiting
I was there beside you...waiting for you to acknowledge Me.
What joy to my heart it was when you looked for Me, child...
knowing My hand was in all that you saw..."

Layers

One
by
one
the layers
peel off...
exposing to
daylight
their spots of decay;
ripping off
tender shoots of seeds
planted in once fertile soil..
...layer after layer..
darkness
and
light
coexisting much too comfortably;
neither strong enough
to take the lead as the layers continue
falling...
until the core reveals newness of life
replanted by the Maker's hand.

Strength to Strength

From strength to strength
and glory to glory,
The Lord leads us on
towards the prize
and the pastures.
Each step taken
on faith in spite of feeling
propels each wanderer
on the way...
to the life
...to the next step...

From strength to strength
and glory to glory,
the Lord leads us on
to discover His heart;
the longing He has in His heart
for our hand...
...to have fellowship
with Him
and the joy of the brethren...
gloriously sharing our lives
in His heart.

The Stone in His Hand

A feeling of power
rested in the palm of his hand;
holding the smooth stone
led him to feel superior
to the object of his derision...

She was an object;
delegated to the realm of damaged goods
and devalued in his estimation
with trial by jury neglected
...out of a misguided sense of justice.

"Vengeance is Mine saith the Lord"
the Bible did say, didn't it?
The memories of sunday school entered into
the forefront of his thoughts...

Still, he was justified in throwing the stone.
She had sinned; really messed up this time.
Her example would prevent her from doing it again,
and send a message to those even contemplating
wandering into the degradation of human flesh.

His girth made throwing difficult;
and then there was that nasty habit of blasphemy...
His temper made him hard to live with;
leading his family to tread on delicate ground
...just to breathe easily...

The warmth of the Savior's love
made it through one of the cracks in his armor;
melting the ice and length of chain that
held him captive to sin in his own right...

Down he fell and let the stone tumble to the dry earth.
His eyes looked up to heaven in entreaty;
speaking the volumes his heart was unable to verbalize...
and flinching in acknowledgement of his own falls from grace.

Rejoicing in the God of All Comfort...

"It is not because things are good that we are to thank the Lord, but because He is good."-Hannah Whitall Smith from The God of All Comfort.


This throws the gauntlet down to my flesh when life's mountains seem insurmountable. The passages that deal with praise in the Bible are numerous, and yet can seem hollow when we are blinded by our emotional states. Human weakness and the limits of our understanding can chain us to the dark side of the moon. Praise breaks us out of those chains and propels us towards the joy of the Lord; which is our strength.

I admit to being an emotional creature with marked intensities and a streak of the melancholy firmly rooted within the constraints of my personality. The Lord has His reasons for creating each of us with our temperaments, and we often fail to thank God for His wisdom in giving us what we have in that department. The grass is always greener; careening our gaze towards comparison with others and thinking that their temperament gives them an edge over us.

In light of today being the day that the Lord has made, I am going to try to rejoice in the God of all comfort. Lifting up that sacrifice of praise will raise my dry bones out of the grave into the awareness of His presence.

Have a cup o'joy,
Lynne

Mouse Bites

The mouse
in the crevice
saw that sweet morsel...
abandoned by human resign...
...the smell,
the aroma
rose to his nostrils...
enticing his taste buds
to propel his feet towards action.
("Seize the day" he'd often heard
in unprotected pantries).
Launching from his haunches,
the mouse
tasted the thrill
of capturing joy...
for human loss had provided his dinner...
to satisfy hunger;
raising his hopes of
finding more...

Thursday Night

Clutter of bills...
mountains of laundry
building
the
giant
felt from within...
cluttered perception
jaundiced by worry...
approaching the spirit that
cowered within...then shouts of
Organize!
Organize!
taunted the pale one...
...besieged,
...tormented...
...nettled...
...distraut...
and wondering how the divide would be crossed...
...Peace, Be still
uttered the Savior;
extending His hand
to the creature in awe...
for awaiting the child's
response to His leading;
His gratified pale one accepted
His grace...

The Open Door

The door opened,
and then it shut...the slam of the door
against the casing was reverberating through my marrow...

I looked around and saw another door;
and then another...

so many choices?
How could I choose?

That still, small voice came with the next breeze;
and whispered His guidance to calm and to soothe...
for the words in my spirit were bathed in beauty
and blessed simplicity; echoes of verses I thought I'd forgotten...

My eyes were averted from the door set before me,
and persuaded in faith to look past to the next;
for peace preceded the touch of my hand to the knob
as I opened the door to find my Lord waiting there.

Beyond

Looking beyond the present haze,
the promise awaits to bestow fresh vision;
invigorating weakened faith
grown lax from contentment with lesser morsels...

Beyond the present,
Beyond the veil,
Beyond the pressing concerns...
...Jesus awaits our voice in His ear;
as His outstretched hands ready us
for the journey ahead.

Hope renewed refreshes the spirit,
the life of love growing up out of mire.
Faith coming up from the struggle with shadows;
rearming the sword with a galvanized zeal.

Beyond this day lies the promise awaiting;
that fresh wind of life from the Father of Lights...

Eyes on the Prize

Philippians 3:14
"I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."

I'll keep my eyes on the prize,
knowing that blesssed fellowship will bolster my strength and renew my spirit...
knowing also that the finish line has the best fringe benefits of any job...
knowing that with the Lord we are never alone; contrary to how our emotions lie...

I'll keep my eyes on the prize,
keeping the song of salvation in my heart as the Spirit leads me on...
singing that song as a celebration,
a sword,
and a victory cry to shout to the world of the power of God
...to change our hearts,
...and sometimes our circumstances for our good and His glory...

I'll keep my eyes on the prize,
knowing that the joy of the Lord is my strength,
knowing that weeping may endure for a night...and that joy comes in the morning.
knowing past reason that the word of the Lord is true, and that His love endures forever...

I'll keep my eyes on the prize,
because I believe that what lies ahead is more precious than gold...
...and that nothing in our earthly realm has the ability to compare with
the treasures of knowing the Lord...

I'll keep my eyes on the prize,
celebrating the work of His hands as my feet of clay seek to follow the path that
He would have me wallk in...looking for the good way so that I may walk in it...
celebrating the fellowship of believers because I know I cannot run the race alone...
celebrating the promise of heaven as a fragrant balm covering the divots of my soul...

I'll keep my eyes on the prize,
for I know that He lives and awaits my drawing near to Him in expectancy and faith...

I'll keep my eyes on the prize,
rejoicing in turbulent weather because He gives me that song of joy in the night seasons...

I'll keep my eyes on the prize,
because the prize is worth any travail I shall ever experience while living in my earthsuit...

Early Morning Stillness...

It is early morning as I write this, and my house is quiet. Everyone else is sleeping still, and allowing me to sit at the computer and write. This is a sip of joy to be sure, and my cup is full.

These mornings draw me towards reading, writing, praying, meditating, and taking inventory of my inner world. The quiet tends to pull the inward outward and tends to draw out the themes of my mental notebook. My prayer today is that the notebook contents are put in a form that is edifying to the Lord; placed squarely on the altar of sacrifice for His name's sake...

The song in my heart is forming for the day's activities. The Lord is gracious to give me a song in the night seasons as well as my waking hours. Praise poured out of a thankful soul invites the sweetness of His presence and performs soul surgery on those parts that need attention from the Great Physician. He shows me my need and holds my hand as He leads me beside the still waters. Oh, the beauty of morning in the divine plan! I know I am not alone in my observation; and know that people before me and after me will experience the same patch of life.

My prayer for you today is that you find that place that invites the Lord to visit you. Have a conversation with your maker and rediscover the joys of fellowship with Him. Nothing on earth compares with it, and nothing on earth can replace it. I shall leave you with this verse:
"With one sacrifice he made perfect forever those who are being made holy"
...Hebrews 10:14

Temperament and grace...

I have been reading about temperament types and the power of the Holy Spirit to transform them into His likeness. Reading about the carnal results of each of the temperament types has been a mixed bag of goodies in my estimation. Each temperament has its'strengths and weaknesses that, if brought to the extremes of human tendency can produce both delight and disaster. Hope stood afar from me as I read some of this material, and faith was waiting with the escape hatch for me to reach for the hand of the Lord.

Daily the believer has to return the ground that he or she has relinquished through careless living or battles lost to the enemy. Giving up individual right to pet sins and indulgences stings the comfort zone of the flesh; yet gives the spirit renewed life. The foot of the cross awaits us each day for us to visit and lay down our control as well as our burdens. That shed blood still has the power to dissolve the chains of tyranny imposed by our wandering flesh and the embedded arrows of darkness.

Refusing to abandon ourselves to overwhelming guilt over our weaknesses, let us look to the cross for that transforming power of the shed blood of Jesus. He is able to transform our temperament weaknesses from deficits to benefits. I pray that we can cultivate the habit of refocusing our eyes on Jesus instead of the cracks in our pots and the breaks in our armour.

Peace...we are beloved lambs cared for by our shepherd...

Have a cup o'joy,
Lynne

A Tainted Reflection

Psalm 119:77
Let Your tender mercies come to me, that I may live.


She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror as she passed by the front hallway of the house. Her hair was a mess, and there was a new wrinkle forming around her eye. Time had worked against her today and assaulted her vanity. Who did she look like today? Was it her mother's eyes? Her father's complexion? The smirk on her face that her husband claimed she passed on to the next generation? Ella thought about her reflection for a minute and then pushed it out of her mind. In fact, her mind took a leap-frog approach and replaced the mental image of her face for something else...

It was her goal as a believer in Jesus to try to reflect the image of God. How was that going to be possible today? The mental build-up of junk sloshed around in her thought processes to produce a pac man mentality; moving from thought to thought quickly so that she would get to the one that seemed manageable for the moment. What was she thinking of before she slipped into the sin of vanity? She stopped and looked at the bird bath next to the split-rail fence in her backyard. There was a fresh deposit of rainwater being pushed by a passing wind. Did a bird have the experience of catching his reflection in the water today? Was the movement of the water a hindrance to his burst of vanity? Surely, the existential question of whether it was him or not in the reflection would have been answered by the sound of an approaching cat sooner or later. There were a number of feral kitties meandering around the area these days, and the immediate concern of that bird would not be so intellectual if he were apprehended by a hungry predator.

Her brain was wandering and taking a mental detour in an effort to delay dealing with reality. Catching that glimpse of herself in the mirror was a mental jolt; producing the question in her mind that pushed her to consider who she was going to reflect today. Would she be a reflection of all that the Lord had done in her life? Would she be an embarassment to the cause of Christ or a blessing to others? Where was her mind today? Would it be stuck on selfish concerns or yield to the call of the Spirit to refocus itself on Jesus? The feel of the floor beneath her feet struck her as reminder that she was caught in an earthsuit. The mission for today was to hopefully be able to crawl out of her own head and more fully engage herself in the life outside of her own thoughts. The tainted reflection in the mirror propelled her to pray that the Lord would let His tender mercies reach her today and teach her how to live for the eternal.

Strength for the Journey

She was singing her own song to the Lord. The words had been in her for years, assuaging soul aches and haunting her in the night seasons...

"Sing,oh to the Savior now...for His redeeming grace...Sing, oh to the Savior now...His grace is just a prayer away..."

The minor keys rose out of her and pushed their way out into the air as sound waves into the atmosphere. She felt the heaviness lift and a renewed hope begin to glow from her eyes as she heard the Spirit of the Lord whisper a gentle word of encouragement to her heart. Ella was home again. The fruition of grace settled in and left behind a thorn of anxiety that the pit would become her residence once more.

Today was a good day. The memory of the past and a natural bent for the drifts of melancholy were with her still, yet the words of her savior were right there alongside her as well. Moments could be savored and strength could be drawn from the awareness of the Lord's presence through her days. The daily goal was to reach for the sword more than for the fishing pole. In her mind, even the fishing pole brought up verses of verdant truth instead of the stench of dead fish. This was a sign of the Lord's faithfulness. His healing touch had done something wonderful.

Ella was in the grocery store today, checking out customers and chatting with them as they were waiting for the printer to produce their receipt. It was noticeably slow in it's delivery of receipts. She joked that someone had either prayed for patience when making the machine; or the purchaser of the printers had decided to invest in the economy model over the more efficient choice. This garnered her a laugh or two and relaxed the customers into a more amenable state of mind. Grocery shopping brought out a crabby streak in some customers that erupted and was soothed over by showing grace and eating crow when necessary...

Her heart was working on her next post for the blog she wrote. She was a writer. She had rediscovered a raison d'etre and a steam vent all in one. The Lord was using what He gave her for His glory. There was nothing better to be chosen over this.

"Thank You for shopping with us. Have a great one, Ma'am!"

The customer looked back and gave her their familiar smile and a gentle response. Prayer was enveloping that customer as she left the checkout area and followed her to her car. Ella knew that this was where she needed to be for the moment.

Today had turned out well...and her love for the Lord grew...

Father's Day

The letter was sitting on the kitchen table. He had read it a few times over, but still felt himself drawn to the envelope with his daughter's handwriting on it. He could hear her voice as he read it, and yet felt as if he didn't quite know her. She was his little girl, and now she was married with children of her own. It was her turn now to care for them, keep an eye on them, worry about them...

She had never done something like this before for Father's day. She had designed her own cards for him, with her own copyright symbol on the back. He couldn't understand why she had not started writing stories or doing more with her writing than she was...but now she wrote him a letter for Father's day. He had been curious as to what the letter could contain. She had never done this before now. Maybe it was because he hadn't been feeling well lately. Whatever the reason, his emotions were playing ping-pong inside of his head. So many memories were coming back to the forefront of his mind as he read the letter again...

Dear Dad,

I thought about what I would do for Father's Day, and was coming up short. Then, I remembered that I gave mom a letter for Mother's Day and she seemed to like it. This is a break from tradition for us. Hey, it is more than you received last year. Sorry about that. Like I said, this is a new thing for both of us. I can imagine that you are feeling a bit awkward at this point, but rest assured that you have nothing to fear. Once you get over the initial shock, you may actually like hearing from me like this. Let's shoot for the moon!

I have always felt secure in your love. Even when you've been crabby, I have known that you have always had my best interest at heart. I have picked up on the real meaning of your questions about how my car is running and whether I have checked the oil lately. I get the picture. I love you, too.

Having a family of my own now has given me an idea of what you must have experienced as a parent. I know how you got your gray hair. It wasn't from Clairol, either! Parenthood can be stressful. I have heard it said that when you become a parent, a piece of your heart walks around outside of your body. I believe that is an accurate metaphor of how it feels to be a parent and watch your children grow. I also believe that God makes us so cute as babies that when we are teenagers our parents remember that before they decide whether to kill us or not. I suspect that may have been the reason that you let me survive into adulthood. I appreciate your forbearance more than I know how to express.


The tears were coming as he read the lines of the letter to himself. Why didn't she ever tell him these things before? What makes people wait to share their hearts with their loved ones? The ache dissipated as he continued to read the handwriting of his daughter. She was going easy on him, but that was to be expected. It was Father's day, and he hadn't been well. His illness affected everyone; from his wife and children to his siblings and extended family on both sides of the family tree.
Still, she hadn't said anything like this before in all of the years that they had known each other. Better late than never, he figured...

He read on and grew eager to see how the letter ended..."richly blessed to have you has a father...thankful for the opportunity to let you know how much I love you...sure that neither one of us feel comfortable with expressing these things to each other verbally as sincerely as we mean them..."

The words were hers, alright. She had a timid side to her that took over and shut her down in terms of communicating. If she didn't want to talk, then he had better luck roping an buffalo in New York City.

His heart was full of nostalgia and gratitude as he read the closing words to his Father's day present...
"May God impress upon your heart the tremendous impact that you have had on my character. Your love has made such a difference in my life....Love you!"

Anna was coming into the room; sporting a look of curiosity on her face that clearly meant she was curious about the letter. His wife of over 46 years was a part of all he held dear. She was beautiful and he adored her. Their children were their gifts to each other; and God's gift to them ultimately.

"Well, dear...how was it?"

"Good. Very nice. I guess I didn't do such a bad job raising her after all...I must've done something right..."

"Happy Father's Day."

The exchange ended with a kiss and a brief hug before Anna heard the buzzer go off on the dryer. She rubbed his back for a moment and excused herself to take care of the laundry. He held the letter in his hands for a moment, and then placed the letter back in the envelope before placing it back on the kitchen table. He would read it again later, just to hear her voice saying what he had wanted to hear for so long. It felt good to be loved.

Psalm 50:15

"Call upon Me in the day of trouble;
I will deliver you, and you shall glorify Me."


What an awesome thought that the maker of heaven and earth would invite me to call upon Him! My finite understanding cannot get a handle on just how immense and powerful the nature of God is. It is almost too much for me to even imagine. He says that He will deliver us, and that we will glorify Him. I feel like a little kid getting ready to enter a massive park for the first time. The awe and wonder in my soul fills my cup to the very top; how much more can I hold?

The answer to this last dilemna is clear to me. I am propelled by His love and mercy to do what I was designed for: praise, worship, and writing. (You knew that last one was coming, didn't you?) The frame of His glory and provision flood my soul's landscape and fill in the valleys with good things. I am His sheep, and He is the Good Sheperd. His arms of love enfold me and infuse my spirit with hope, peace, and a fresh taste of the bread of heaven.

My prayer for you today is that you seek and get a taste of the Lord's goodness. Open up the door to your soul, and let your spirit get a good soaking rain. It IS good to give thanks to the Lord. We were made to praise the Lord, and it can be the most fulfilling activity of our existence; as our praises invite the Lord's presence.

Have a cup o'joy,
Lynne

Passion's Flood

The heart had chains around it,
stout and strong...
firmly holding to the bound flesh...

Passions's flood descended
to cleanse and free the heart;
dissolving fear and bondage
with a power unmatched elsewhere in the universe...

The mist surrounded the created pump of life,
dawning the light around it that originated from
the hand of God...

Sweet communion brought the eyes of my heart back
to the reality of human form and trial's nearness...
Passion's flood descended to bring freedom to the captive.

Staying on the Sunny Side...

I have been thinking about the expression lately that says,"Perception is everything". I have to come down on the side of...both sides of this comment. There is much wisdom contained in that comment. I also think that it is an oversimplification that can lead to a load of guilt.

While it is true that a positive outlook can forestall or eliminate the bad habit of pessimism, there is no denying those events in life that cause legitimate concern. Illnesses, financial struggles, interpersonal conflicts, and major life events all produce their fair share of challenges. These challenges are certainly eased by the perception that "this too shall pass", but not magically eliminated. The impact of an event can be felt long after the initial shock to the system.

Fortunately for us, there is a way to lighten the load and invite the Lord's presence into our situations. Are you ready for this one? When you hear it and say, "Oh, I have heard of that before!" I wonder if you will dismiss the power behind the concept. That is up to you. However, I pray that the Lord speaks to you of the freedom available through trying to approach coping with hardship this way.

Pray for the Lord to bring a song to your heart. Spend time praising Him in those pockets of time that normally bring to mind all of the impending mountains moving in on your valley of peace. I am not suggesting that you magically ignore the situation you're in. Praising God and shifting your focus allows for greater intervention of the Lord's power in your life. Perception is adjusted to make the load lighter, and your mind is more occupied with the big picture of God's plans for your life. I am not suggesting that this will be easy, but starting to cultivate the habit in your life will bring amazing results your way.

His words are life, and bring us into His presence when we meditate on them. Far from living in denial or a state of false pretense; praise and prayer are our power tools for survival in a world that only seems to value outward successes and pleasant appearances. Real life is a mixture of roses and manure, no matter how we try to dress up the packaging.

Have a cup o'joy as you get a fresh taste of the bread of heaven. The marriage supper of the Lamb is coming to a planet near you. Let's keep our focus on the Lord, the author and the finisher of our faith.

Musings on Psalm 34:18

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

I felt You near
and know Your Spirit
brought the words of Life to
refresh my own...

I knew the encouragement of Your promise...
...of joy coming in the morning
though I could not see the evidence of redemption
in circumstance...

Within me, I wanted to hand You the wounds
and the tears,
but did not know if I could relinquish them in my own strength...

"Teach me to let go, Lord"
I offered up through a veil of weeping...
...and I knew there was noone else like You.

Teach me how to "taste and see" again...
renew my hunger for Your nearness
while the desert looms with arid dreams...

Take from me the broken dreams and
restore to me the hope lost from faded choices...
restore to me, Lord, that which the locusts have eaten...

...so that You may be glorified...

I see in my heart
the desolation chosen over gardens of life,
and the sorrow grown from the thriving tares...
You redeem Your servants, Lord...
and none will perish who take refuge in You...

So now I cleave to You,
and long for your presence...
Clear the tares from the harvest wheat...
purifying me from the sin I've harbored...

Renew my hope...

Joy in the Morning

"The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him,
it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord"

-Lamentations 3:25-26


Awaiting the voice,
straining to sort through the
echoes of past sins
and competing stations of mental noise;
the sound of seagulls and rushing wind
swirls around the figure seated on the shore...

Hope is squeezed out of unspoken requests
and sent to the ear of Jesus with eyes reflecting
sun as well as shadows in the light of day...
"Help me, Jesus" arises from the depths
of confusion and desolate passages;
bringing the freedom to shift focus from the temporal
to the joy of the eternal city awaiting...
...and joy ushers in the peace beyond reason
along with the morning of mercies renewed...

Bridging the Gap

Ezekiel 22:30
"I looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found none."



The figure of clay stands next to the edge,
looking over at the abyss and seeing the other side of the gap...
Looking up, the Spirit moved within soul and sinew;
stirring up the faith within and speaking from deep to deep...

Hands uplifted
rising skyward to reach the hem of glory...
inward locks unfastened,
releasing scrolls and spreading balm as a drawing salve...

Prayer escaping from the depths
arises to the throne of heaven...
following the Spirit's leading to
bring the needs to the awaiting altar...

Spirit walkway grows and bridges
the chasm once supporting naught but air and warfare...
strength and beauty growing with
the blessing of obedience to the call...

Angels brought to conquer sin and darkness...
building steps to bring an end to gaping loss as
strength is brought alongside struggling clay;
raising high the banner of surpassing glory...

Delight and Wonder

You delight in Me,
child of mine,
what love awaits your seeking heart
amidst the tempests!
I inhabit your songs
of praise to My name...
working in your heart
as the invitation arises for me to mold you
into the image of Jesus...
From time beginning,
your face I have seen in my heart...
your name written on my palm quickened my Spirit
as I planned a future and a hope for you...
The desires of your heart await you,
as you continue to trust in My love...
In the appointed season, my plans
will come to fruition
in the soil of your spirit..
for My word will accomplish My plans
for your life.

September 29, 1996

Out and about
Your world, I see
glimpses of You
waiting for me...
Wind whispers
and bright leaves
watch Autumn birds
call each other towards warmer skies...
Harvest time of earth and soul,
awaiting the heart of the seeker...
Out and about
the world's busy pace...
the moment arrives to
take a pause for joyous thanksgiving,
All creatures created to drink in your presence.

The Coming Season

Ecclesiastes 3:1
For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.

There will be a time
for fruition of the dream,
nurtured through the
seeds of endurance and hope.
The dream adapts to the roads followed...
tailored to the needs of the soul
...as seen through the eyes of God.
Glory being drawn out of divine refining;
obstacles leading onward
to the ripening of glory and grace...
Fruition,
mission engraved upon the tender portion
as deep calls unto deep.
The seeds being sown
through the remnants of many days...
There will be a time
for the fulfillment of the vision...

Note: This was written in October of 1996. I dug this one out of an old journal and just tweaked a word or two...I pray it is a blessing and a word of encouragement...

Running to the Tower

Proverbs 18:10
The name of the Lord is a strong tower;
The righteous run to it and are safe


Off in the distance,
I see the tower rising above the horizon.
I'm out of breath from running in circles...
worn in body and spirit...

The perimeter shines;
drawing me to the light with the warmth of tender mercies.
The windows have faces and movement behind them;
a gathering beckons my soul to join in...

Coming upon the door of the tower,
I knock and the hinges move effortlessly open...
inviting me in to the feast of the banquet;
and joining the singing of angels before us...

His presence is there,
and fellowship sweeter than taste could impart to my senses...
The joy of the Lord in full bloom; and communion with family
as a peace-giving dream...

The eyes of my spirit gaze upon Glory,
and my flesh has been changed in an instant to immutable sinew...
...the promise fulfilled from His promise and grace...

Mercy Falling

"The Lord takes pleasure in those who fear Him,
In those who hope in His mercy" Psalm 147:11


It is a glorious thought to rest upon;that the Lord takes pleasure in me when I hope in His mercy. I take a palpable comfort in knowing that He encourages me to seek Him; and that that seeking will be rewarded with a visible answer or the comfort of knowing that He is still with me. A shawl of gentle breezes rests on my shoulders as the sweet fragrance of His presence comes to my aid. In the face of adversity, that knowing is a discernable sign of mercy falling.

He is the tower that I run to when I feel suddenly adrift. I figure if He made my mind and knows how the lump works, I can rest assured that He can fix or ameliorate the quirks in the works. He has His reasons for it all, and I can rest assured that He is in control. I think the process of seeking Him gives him a legal invitation to enter those places in me that have resisted the force of light.

His company resolves the gray mist of the shadows in the human soul and breaks the chains of loneliness each soul must deal with. I pray that mercy falls in your life today as you seek His presence. He is indeed a strong tower that the human spirit can run to and find safety.

Human language is inadequate in expressing the experience of the spirit, but I pray I have conveyed a small part of the point I have been trying to make. That point? Mercy is a glorious expression of the Father's love towards us. Telling the story of His love and sacrifice has the power to transform lives and draw us to Him. There is no better way to spend our days here on earth than to follow and serve Him.

Have a cup o'joy,
...and a fresh taste of the bread of heaven...

Lynne

Musings on 2 Corinthians 12:9

"And He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness." Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me". NKJV

This verse has to be one of the most quoted verses in all of scripture. It appears to my eyes that most of us walking around in our earthsuits have to continually refer to verses like these to make it from point a to point b. In human terms, weakness is not the desired state of being. Who do you know that wakes up in the morning and says to themselves, "I want to be weak today"? It isn't my first thought of the day, and I venture to guess that it isn't yours, either.

God is past amazing to the finite human mind. We don't see a fraction of what He sees(I am thinking that is a good thing), and our limited vision tends to lead us to focus on the mountain instead of the travel guide. Yet our God tells us that His grace is sufficient. He goes on to say that His strength is made perfect in that weakness that we often fail to appreciate. Those moments are brief when I enjoy being weak; so much so that I hardly recognize those moments when they come...

Having the power of Christ resting on me is worth wading through all of the perceived junk I have to wade through in order to get to the relief zone. He is so faithful to get us from point a to point b...and beyond. I am thankful today that He is willing to put up with us long enough to accomplish these ends. Yes, I am glad that He is the one with the supply of patience.

Have a cup o'joy,
Lynne

Lynne, Interrupted....

Land sakes alive, folks...that last one was a short post, wasn't it? In all honesty, I had begun something last night and just wasn't able to get around to finishing it. I must have pressed a button somewhere, and I posted a verse of scripture with nothing else written underneath it. I was interrupted by a fussy child that wanted mamma right there and then. Just to be sure that her crawling on me and squeezing my neck were signs that she wanted to cuddle, I asked her if she wanted mamma...My daughter said in a sweet squeak,"Yes."

My momma heart just melted and the computer was put on the back burner with the heat on low. My child needed me and was letting me know in not so subtle terms that she needed me. A mother's love for a child is mysterious, and at times; overwhelming in its' intensity. I forgot the computer was there for a while, and all I could see was her drooping lower lip and her tears. My lip was drooping, too; and my heart was softened to the consistency of a tub of margarine on top of a hot car.(That was graphic, but you get the point...)

I like to think of the Father's heart being like that melting margarine. John 3:16's
declaration,"For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life" lets the cat out of the bag in terms of His heart towards us. Thank God that He does love us like that.

I also like to think that He does not mind us interrupting His schedule of planetary maintenance for our earthly emergencies. We can crawl to the feet of Jesus whenever we have need of our Father's love and attention. His love is that intense, mysterious;drawing us out of ourselves to yearn for His presence. He IS love, and that love makes all the difference.

Bread Ties and Chewing Gum

This is a bizarre title for a post. I have to agree with you there. However, I think I will be able to make a coherent point by the end of the piece. Hang in there with me and send up a prayer(no specific reason, but hanging in there and praying never hurt anyone that I have ever heard of...). Bread ties and chewing gum are whimsical household items that I am going to use to make an observation about life. You're still with me? God is merciful...

Bread ties and chewing gum remind me of those little habits I have picked up along the way to distract myself from dealing with reality. My favorites include staring at the bulleting board at the back of the church sanctuary building, fixating on a light fixture, studying my shoes, and scanning the crowd to see who didn't make it on any given Sunday...I have also slipped into the habit of mentally writing letters and traveling with more stuff than it would take to spend a week on vacation...baggage comes in more than one form...

Chewing gum makes me think of the efforts that I use to keep my outward facade from degenerating into honesty. The gum has this nasty little habit of sticking so well sometimes that it hurts to pull it off. It also comes loose when I am sweating and squirming to arrange my bread ties at the same time I am propping the gum under my facade. If you can mentally imagine these things, it may seem ridiculous, but hold on;I am making my way slowly to the point of my post today.

These devices do not work to keep all of my pieces together. I have been using the same m.o. for years, and it is insane. They don't work, and what is worse they can further isolate me from other believers. That isolation works a subtle and yet obvious concoction of an intense nature. Juggling bread ties and chewing gum keeps my eyes on me and off of Jesus. That is where I need to be focusing my gaze. My navel
has long since lost it's appeal. I refuse to paint it or put a piercing there. I would not bring attention to my neurotic thought processes if it were not for the fact that others have them, too. It is also true that holding on to my bread ties and chewing gum in secret turns toxic. I cannot live and stay in hiding. I don't think anyone juggles that skillfully without paying a high price.

In closing my post today, I pray that the Lord reaches in to where you live and shows you if you have any bread ties and wads of chewing gum that need to be heaved. Pitch them and don't look back longingly at where they land. You do not need them. You need a hug.

Thanks for bearing with me while I made every effort at making a coherent point. I appreciate your patience and pray that you are blessed by what the Lord has put on my heart today.


Have a cup o'joy...
Lynne

Good Morning, everyone!

It am writing you as the day is still fairly new. I have read and responded to an email or two, and have had the usual detours of chasing my two-year old off of the countertops. Both of my children are still waking up and have not slipped into full-throttle speed as of yet. Life is beautiful.

The coffee is good, and the sun is shining outside. I watch the cars drive past one of my kitchen windows on their way to work, shopping, the beach...and know that my day will soon include the same thing. I had the day off yesterday, so I suppose it wont be so bad to go back to work today. I may even enjoy chatting with some of my co-workers.

I am reminded of that verse in scripture that talks about God's mercies being new every morning. What an amazing thought. That is an immense amount of mercy being poured out on our behalf. I am right there under the spigot; soaking up the grace that I need so dearly. I pray that you get under the cleansing flood today and receive that grace that He is offering.

I have to go now. The rest of my day is calling me away from the computer. I still have to get the kids dressed and fed. I have to get myself dressed and enough caffeine pumped into my system to coherently make change at the register. I will be writing in my mind as I work and just pray that I can walk and chew gum at the same time...I have to keep my mind occupied or else it just wanders off...

I really have to go now. Thanks for visiting The Land of Lynne today.

Be blessed,
...and have a cup o'joy...

Lynne

Musings on Jeremiah 29: 11-14






"For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and go and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart." Jeremiah 29: 11-14 NKJV


These are familiar words to many people. They are a balm for the soul when we are blinded by our emotions. They are a gently prodding invitation to seek God when the thought of having a future and a hope seems like a mixed blessing. I am convinced that this passage was crafted with those times in mind.

I think that we just have to take it on faith sometimes when we pray that He is listening. This may sound brash as well as apostate; yet there are those times in life that seem to block up the ears of heaven. Our limited understanding of all that God sees seems to pull us back from reaching the ears of heaven. Emotions cloud our judgement and present images before our minds that seem to block out the light of heaven.

Joy floods the human soul when the full strength of these verses latch on to those images and illuminate our thinking. He is there for us in so many ways. His presence in our circumstances is always amazing to me. Those unspoken needs that arise are often met with answers that come at such an opportune time. The cries of our hearts are heard and He answers with a word or an image that is as a cool drink on a hot day. I have listened to the messages on Sunday mornings so many times and had the words speak to my heart in just the way I needed to help me put one foot in front of the other. How glorious is a word in due season. So many times the seasons come and the word that we seek from God seems overdue.

I have learned that the best thing to do in these times is to just hang on and keep refocusing our energies on Jesus. Replace the images that distress by placing yourself in a scene from the scriptures. Write the Lord a letter in your heart. Sing a familiar chorus and pray that the Spirit would flood your soul and fill in the cracks of your heart's dry soil. Tears are a release, but sometimes they aren't available. His words are the software that will bring you to a place of refreshment.

I write this to myself as well as to anyone who cares to read it. The Lord has done some great things in my life. I don't pretend to fully understand what hits me half the time. The other half only wants to deal with what it absolutely has to and no more. I have the shut-off valve painted in neon green in my mind. I use it freely and probably abuse its' use if truth be told.

In closing, I have to say that there is so much more to say. Words would be inadequate to explain what is in my heart. A computer screen has its' limitations in terms of human communication. I shall just have to entrust the Lord with the job of blessing my words so that they will reach where they need to reach. The unction to write what the Lord has put on my heart has been obeyed as much as is humanly possible for the moment. The Holy Spirit will take over and accomplish what the Lord intends for what I have written.

I pray that you would know the riches of His grace today.


Have a cup o'joy,


Lynne

Looking at the Moon

Gazing at that haunting orb,
the landscape seems transformed...
nothing is the same as it was in a way,
yet there is a constant variable that remains...

I think I pushed past the blot that I thought was an exclamation mark;
and see a fresh vision of who You would have me be...
Lord...I am still me. I am truly depressed for a moment as I think on it.

...the hairs that threaten to break my back still
tickle and prick my flesh with their usual prods.
but I no longer see the blockade in front of heaven's gate...

Your rod and Your staff prop me up agains the walls
....that used to move as if motivated by spite.
The outline is still there in form, but fresh wind blows in
...and moves me towards new pastures.

The magnet is weaker...
...and that pull towards the shadows has strengthened my resolve
to not be pulled in towards the bottom of the abyss...

Is it acceptance? Grace asks the question of whether the
fishing pole still has its' hooks sharp enough to go foraging in the
sea of forgetfulness.

Faith says that grace is sufficient for me in ready response...

Hope blows a cool wind on my flushed countenance in an
expectant hum.

...Love embraces them all and carries me back to the foot of the cross...

I fall once again to my knees under the weight of guilt for what I did not knowingly cause...

My weeping summons the touch of the savior; and softens the ground of my soul to respond to His voice in sweet anticipation of fellowship.

Of Chains and Wings...

I have been pondering the mercy of God these days. I tend to ponder and brood as I travel through my days in my attempt to classify and make sense out of it all...hoping at this stage of my life to neatly file each experience and thought into its'proper place in my inner filing system.

How I long for life to be that neat. In fact, it is not. I am hedged in but not left for dead; held by the Father yet not smothered. I am thinking that the title of this piece says much about the different seasons of the walk of faith. Let me take a little of your time and share from my present perceptions...

Circumstances, self-image, and stale vision all seem to conspire to chain us to old wineskins that have seen their share of scratches and leaks. Those chains are sometimes loose, and sometimes they are tight enough to force flesh to grow over them as they are incorporated into the body. Images of these prisons and stop signs cloud our vision to the mercy of God.

I think God has His ways of cutting those chains and giving us wings to soar with the eagles. Perhaps it is in experiencing community in the body of Christ. The chains of marred lenses come off as our perceptions are questioned; freeing us to move towards the identity in Christ that is waiting for us at the feet of Jesus. Perhaps freedom is found in a new direction taken as a result of having our lenses cleaned in this way.

I will explore this theme in the days to come. Thanks for hanging out with me in the Land of Lynne.

Peace and a cup o'joy,
Lynne

Independence Day

I am sitting down at the computer and sorting out the thoughts and images sprinting through my gray matter. This is what happens on a daily basis as I sit at my computer and write. The neurons in my brain are up there having a party and tossing around my thoughts like hot potatoes. Once in a while, the potato drops into the laundry basket and has to go into the washing machine. This stops the game for a moment and gives my neurons a "take 5" until I finish filing the rotten potato.
They resume their thought-tossing and I resume writing.

I did warn you that I was a character when starting this blog. Sit back and enjoy it and I promise it wont hurt a bit.

The neurons toss thoughts all day long. I sneak in and grasp a few things to write onto the screen and sneak back out. I know that I should keep a closer eye on those potatoes, but they get away from us and tend to burn holes in the gray matter. As a result, I get sidetracked and drift along in a time warp until I figure out what hit me and return to the land of the living...

The only thing this post has to do with Independence Day is this: I praise God that He has allowed me the freedom to sit at my computer and write like I do. That freedom is a result of the original Independence Day struggle as well as the day that Christ died on the cross. Jesus' death and ressurrection has freed us from the bondage of sin. All we have to do is accept his gift by faith and He comes to us with the gift of freedom.

Thank God this Independence Day for his marvelous gift.


Blessings and a cup o'joy to you all,

Lynne

Good Morning, Lord!

Good Morining, Lord...
It's me again.

You know my heart,
and yet you still want to hear from me...
I know I am getting the better end of the deal
and offer up my thanks for it...

I think I am stuck again, Lord.
I need You to pull me out of the quicksand again.
If you have to leave me here, I ask that you keep my head up
...above sand level...

Joy and heaviness mix together to bake up a sweet ache
that threatens to grow claws...
You are faithful to provide a way for me to make it from
point "A" to point "B". I trust You to do that for me once more.

Is it something I am doing wrong?
Where is my part in this fiasco painted in blue?
Forgive me, Lord, and show me how I can do my part
to return more fully to the land of the living...

Morning will come, I can rest assured...
...but if a day is as a thousand years to you,
what measure of time are you thinking of?
In my time, Lord, I want the claws pulled out of my spirit
so that I can soar again.

Call me greedy...
I desire to live without cloaks
and move into the place where I should be?

I ask Your blessing on this day.
Do with me what You will, Lord.
I offer myself up for your service.
Let me be a part of Your plan today
as You keep me in the palm of Your hand.

So be it.
Amen.

Time Warp

Walking along,
the present melts into
a patch of life
previously lived and stuck
between rewind and play...

grasping for the root,
I catch the thought by the tip of the tail;
losing my grip on it as
the last attempt is made to take it captive...

familiar winds and flashes of lightning
move in to manipulate the landscape of my soul.
In my hand is the sword I will use to fight back
the descending cloak and pray for the Spirit to rain once more.
"It is written" worked for Jesus...

A song arrives to empower my will;
lifting my spirit to the
remembrance of coming joy.

Hold on...Hold on..."this too shall pass"..
"...though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.."
"Rejoice in the Lord always..."
"Jesus wept."

Time passes...

I am still here.

...and I hear the echoes in my mind of those who have travelled the time warp before me.

Breathe...

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
Rejoice always,Pray without ceasing,in every thing give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.


Psalm 89: 15-17
Blessed are the people who know the joyful sound! They walk, O Lord, in the light of your countenance. In Your name they rejoice all day long, and in Your righteousness they are exalted. For you are the glory of their strength, And in Your favor our horn is exalted.


I Breathe...
and celebrate the work of His hands.
I stand upon the rock
and feel the ocean spray tickling my skin,
and the breeze rushing into my lungs
to rejuvinate flesh and spirit after the fire burned
... Breathe...
and look up to the night sky with the brightness of eye
that is ushered into the spirit by the promise of night passing.
the cloak of nightfall has its' purpose in the Father's hands.

I breathe..
and know that He is God. My maker and re-creator when I bring Him my pieces
in anticipation of His willingness to put them back together again.
...Hands lifted to heaven reflect the loosened grip of clay on that which
rightly belongs to the Potter.

I breathe a prayer,
breathing in forgiveness...
...and pushing out the debris of self-seeking and pride...

He whispers His word in my spirit and writes upon the tablet of my soul. Images of freedom and elegant grace enfold me as a purple cascade of Spirit rain...
The imprints remain for now of fishing hook scars and memories of cloak and
claws...yet the fragrance of grace lingers and binds up the wounds that have bound me
to the edge of blackness...

He breathes His spirit on me again and makes the dry bones to rise again;
they rise in triumph,
they rise in joy,
and they rise in fresh anticipation of eventual wholeness for His purposes.

He rejoices over me with singing, and the sound is sweeter than honey.

Of Words and Phrases...

There are those folks in the world that don't feel passionate about expressing themselves. They don't see the point in writing or creating something to enjoy and share with others. There are those souls out there loose in the world that decry the act of artistic expression as a waste of time. Why does anyone feel driven to write, paint, take photos, or do anything creative? If it doesn't return a paycheck, then what is the motivation behind it? I have heard it said that there is a certain temperament of the artist that breeds a form of insanity...

Let me stand up and wave my hand and identify with those who get bitten by the desire to be creative. As for the temperament issue...I will simply say that I do not suffer from insanity...I enjoy it. Just kidding...the men in the white coats haven't caught up with me yet...Ok, ok...I will get serious and lay it out the reasons why some people have a passion for being creative.

Creativity, I believe, is a reflection of the divine spark within us. We were made in the image and likeness of God. What did God do in Genesis? He created the heavens in the earth. Then, he created man...and He has had His hands full ever since...ok, ok...back to the subject at hand. I think those of us who are engrossed with experiencing the process of creating just like to fan the flames a bit more. Some of us are pyros(figuratively speaking, of course...). There is something exciting about bringing a concept out of the depths of your being and putting a "face" on it. It should be listed in the DSM-III as an addiction, but I am not going to formally submit it. I think it ties in with my earlier comment regarding the men in white coats...alright...I will go back to my point.

I do believe that there are some of us who just have to create whether we ever show another soul what we do or not. I have written letters to God on many occaisions and then destroyed them. He saw and understood, and that is what mattered. Other times, it is an absolute hoot to show what has emerged from the abyss of the soul to another person. A new part of the adventure of creating/writing is embarked upon when another human being experiences what I write through their eyes. It can be a good thing to climb out of your own head once in a while. The spirit of man shrinks and whithers when outside contact is not made periodically. There is only so much room in there for growth. Creating something in that room is necessary; and sometimes sharing it is even more necessary. It is similar to a small child drawing a picture and wanting to show someone what they did.

Creating is a joy. I can only try to imagine how God felt when He created the universe. While I do not think he sat back in a lounge chair and had a nice cold glass of iced tea; he must have felt some sense of accomplishment. Doesn't the verse in Genesis say, "And God saw that it was good"? I like to think that could be a way of saying, "Alright!". Sometimes the journey of creating something brings new revelation and insight that did not originate with me. Sometimes I don't know where I am going with a piece until I get to the end. (I can sense the cracks coming on now...I promise I will make a coherent point with this soon. I haven't kept you that long now...)The phrases and images mix altogether with old memories and concepts to form my word choices and mold what ends up on the screen. I feel as if I am talking to someone as I write.

We are all parts of the body of Christ. Some are feet, some are knees, etc. Every one of us has a place value; a value high enough for Christ to have died on the cross for us. I think God knew that we would get bored with ourselves if we were all the same. Variety is good because it makes the journey that much more fun. There is comedy in the body of Christ that counts my ribs. There is amazing ability that ushers us into the presence of the Lord. There is also an endless adventure in getting to know each other. Sometimes when I start thinking that I have a corner on weirdness; the Lord brings someone into my life who shows me their patch of oddity and I feel alright again. God bless the nuts. Make this a "be kind to nuts day" and you may just be blessed...

In returning to my point(and I do have one...), I want to say that creativity flows out of sticking with this habit of breathing in an earthsuit. It flows out of every spiritual gift and ability given to us by our creator. Some of us just have a few extra quirks in the works planted(or impaled)in us that make creating/writing almost an RDA for finding fulfillment.

I hope I have made a few coherent points. I ask for your mercy and a generous dose of grace if you feel that I have not done so. Come back another time anyway and let's see if I can nail down a topic then. I think we will both have fun either way.


Have a cup o'joy
and a dose of peace...

Lynne

So Many Words...

Psalm 19:14

Let the words of my mouth and the
meditation of my heart,
Be acceptable in Your sight,
O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.

Psalm 51:15
O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall show forth Your praise.


I have been thinking about the words that have come out of my mouth lately. While there has been a great deal of prayer passing my lips;there has also been a few jolts of complaint. Something will startle me or disturb my peace; and then I erupt into spurts of volcanic activity. I am honestly sorry afterwards; but I confess that it feels good to just let my inner Krakatoa let loose. Thankfully these breaches of peace do not continue beyond short spurts, and those bursts of color pass and fade as I recall the mercies of the Lord. I am hoping that I lose my way on the way to the sea of forgetfulness; as I feel my hand reaching for the pole as I speak...

I have been so brash to suggest to God that He can let up for now because I must be half-way to becoming a diamond. As soon as I let those words pass my lips I feel a twinge of regret and a flood of repentance. What right have I to complain when my comfort zone has moved to where I am not? The patches of unrefined dross in my soul show themselves when these snippets of my inner conversation leak out. The Lord has said in Ecclesiastes that there is nothing new under the sun. That means that what I experience cannot be unique to me. I am banking on that as a source of comfort...

In long for the contents of my mind and the words that I speak to be acceptable in the Lord's sight. I can walk towards this goal by focusing on what is pure and lovely as much as I can. When those nettling thoughts sneak in through the back door and whisper their little nasties into my mind, I can pray for the light to shine on them and show them out of my inner room. I am instructed to take every thought captive; to look at what I am thinking about and evalutate it in the light of scripture. My success in doing just that at any given moment can make the difference between a handle on joy or taking a digger.

The longer I live the more firmly I believe that praise makes everything beautiful right where it lives. Each day I can choose to "sing with grace in my heart to the Lord(taken from Colossians 3:16)." My burdens are eased as I shift my gaze towards Jesus and away from the distressing issues. The benefits of praise don't stop there, either! The emotional atmosphere around me changes as I praise the Lord. Others are blessed with a patch of sunshine and replentish both their joy stash and mine. Praising God is good for us; and opens the door for God to do more than we could even hope for. In that spirit of praise, I will be more likely to please my creator in both thought and speech. Torment does not ultimately triumph when praise is present; as it wages warfare on that which is dark.


There is something glorious and beyond my understanding that happens when I praise the Lord. His presence floods my soul and shines His light on that which is dark within me. His Word comes alive in me in a fresh way as the Spirit whispers into my ear. My hope for transformation into who I was destined to be is renewed as I stay open to what His word says about the issues of life. It is indeed a glorious journey, in spite of the valleys.

The Echo of Singing

"The Lord your God is in your midst,
The Mighty One,will save;
He will rejoice over you with gladness,
He will quiet you with His love,
He will rejoice over you with singing."
-Zephaniah 3:17



Sometimes I think I can almost hear the echo of singing coming to me over the wind. The creation around me gives me the melody;and the Spirit provides the lyrics from the Word. The above verse in Zephaniah evokes such a sweet image in my mind:of Jesus lifting an ear to listen to His creation make symphonies. His whispers of encouragement,correction,and love quiet my mind as I look at the instruments of this orchestra. Leaves,birds,grasses blowing in the wind;they all sing together to bring the Lord into remembrance. I love to think of the Lord rejoicing over me with singing.

Releasing the gifts that He has given us is much like releasing a bird to soar after it has been in captivity. The sense of freedom that grows out of sharing a taste of just how good God is seems to me to be as a pianist pressing down on the keys of a grand piano;skillfully pressing and releasing the keys to produce the music whispered into the ear of the pianist. I can imagine the vision of bars,notes,and latin phrases enveloping us all as we follow the leading to make something to present back to Jesus.

There is an exquisite joy that emerges from us as we sing our songs back to God. The sacrifice of praise that God speaks of in Hebrews 13:15 pushes back discouragement and crestfallen brows to gaze upon the glory of God. I think God created us to praise Him in part because of the beauty it inspires. Our worship brings us into His presence;where beauty and creativity flourish as a continual spring.

Evening's Song

This time of day seems to be an especially intimate time of day in terms of how close I feel to the Lord. Mornings have their unique joy;but evening has the added foreboding of night being imminent. Another day is closing out its' alotted time;forcing me to reflect upon what the day has brought. A bittersweet mixture of regrets,joys,victories,and new adventures greets me as I view the darkening skyline. In a way,I don't know whether I want to laugh,sing,cry,or just tune out.

I remember my grandmother's funeral about 12 years ago. The church was packed. I don't recall the words my uncle spoke on her behalf;but I do remember the hymn we sang.

'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus
just to take Him at His Word
just to rest upon His promise
just to know Thus saith the Lord

The atmosphere of the church was laden with that sweet ache of loss that is softened with the knowledge of the joy ahead for those who trust in Him. Images of my grandmother being in heaven on streets of gold danced through my mind. The memories that I had gathered over the years were precious.

I recall that evening after the funeral. The family had begun to scatter and had said their goodbyes. Our bonds had been strengthened,and our resolve to continue seeking the Lord had been given some extra backbone. The promise of glory was held up in remembrance and in expectation amid so many of the day's conversations. Lucy Watrous had gone home to be with Jesus, and we had gathered together to celebrate her life: it was a "home-going" celebration(the expression that my uncle used in the eulogy I hear...).

That evening was rich with emotion and a palpable yearning for heaven. The world would be different,but would retain the fragrance of her life. It was enough to bring that sweet ache to the doorstep of rejoicing.

Leaving Myself Behind...

I don't know about you,but I have a habit of leaving things behind wherever I go. I left my keys in the grocery store this afternoon. I misplaced my keys a few days before that. I couldn't find a paycheck in my purse for a few days because I took it out and forgot where I put it. I leave traces of myself behind me as if I were leaving a trail.

There are other ways to leave pieces of yourself that don't involve this type of embarassment. One way is to share the gift that is within you. There is usually more than one gift in question,too..."No man is an island"is now seen as a trite and overused expression. Still, it can be argued that each person who lives touches those around them. Each one of us has an impact for good or for ill on those in our primary and secondary social groups. When you see a friend or an aquaintance,how do you feel about them? What was the last conversation that you had with them? Have they ever challenged your viewpoints or prodded you to follow one of your dreams? It may be the case that they have been as a grains of sand in your bag of oysters. It may take a long time, but those grains of sand that irritate you may be producing pearls of great value within your spirit. Only God sees what the final outcome of our relationships with others will be. Scary,isn't it? In the least,it is thought-provoking...

Ultimately,I pray that I leave behind traces of what the Father has done in me as well as through me. I long for my children to say of me one day that they really knew me as a person and not just as their mother. It would be great if something I wrote paved the way for someone to come to Christ. I am looking forward to hearing from someone who has been drawn to the foot of the cross through the Spirit working through me. It is going to be beyond imagining when we get to heaven and see from the other side what God was doing in our circumstances of life. I want to leave behind the fragrance of Jesus and the memories of joy that I brought to their lives.

If the whole duty of man is to follow after and know God, then leaving ourselves behind will not be such a bad thing. The next generation will be blessed by our obedience to the leading of the Spirit. Here's to leaving ourselves behind the way we were destined to do so.

Have a cup o'joy...
Lynne