Saturday's Child

"Saturday's Child works hard for a living"
-Mother Goose nursery rhyme

This title is the first thing that popped into my head this morning. I'm going to take a wild leap and write my post about it. Mother Goose is hardly the highest expression of literary merit; but it still has a treasured place as a memento of childhood. I can imagine mothers everywhere sitting down with their children and reading them a nursery rhyme before bedtime or naptime. Language has a wonderful way of connecting people at heart level.

I am thinking of myself as a Saturday's child at the moment. I am going to be working hard to help support my family in the years to come. What a joy this is going to be; aside from the lost time with those I am working to support. Standing at the foot of the cross in supplication for mercy and grace each day; I am going to offer up my efforts to the Lord and ask Him to bless them. Money goes fast and there are needs that a paycheck cannot meet. I am a Saturday's child in the respect that I am going to be working hard for a living; yet I have a heavenly Father that is intimately concerned with the unfolding of my days. I am going to trust Him to "supply all my needs according to His riches in Christ Jesus" and rest in His faithfulness to do just that. ("And my God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in Christ Jesus". Philippians 4:19).

This is the day that He has made for His glory. My joy will come as I offer up my day to Him as an act of worship. The invitation is given for Him to take my tiny hand and lead me where He wants me to go; and be who He wants me to be for today. Saturday's child works hard for a living...but sees that work as an opportunity to step into destiny's footprints. Praising Him will be part of that walk; as He will inhabit those praises(Psalm 22:3 NKJV)and bring me into His presence.

My prayer for you today will be for Him to inhabit your praises. Enjoy the work that you find to do and rejoice in it; redeeming the time for His glory.


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

Lynne

Reaching

Stretching up towards Heaven's shores;
my rumbling spirit leads me on
towards the reward of His sustaining joy.
Captured by grace;
my longing draws me towards
the hem of His garment;
My hands raised and stretching themselves
past normal expression;
full expectation of His hand reaching down
to meet me in my need...
Stretching up towards Heaven's shores;
my hunger propels me on...
setting my eyes on those tasks that
warm the Father's heart.

Mental Deposits

I have a writer's imagination. My thought processes jump into the fanciful and sublime and then back to the practical. Daydreaming is a plethora of material; as the pictures play like a movie in my head. In short, I have something brewing in my spirit. It isn't complete; but then again it will never be this side of Glory. It is as if the Lord is doodling in my mind. Rest assured I mean no disrespect to the Most High; I simply lack adequate ability to express what I see in my mind's eye. I need much help from the Lord in this respect; and figure that He can supply the words to match my mental images.

His Word draws me into the feast of the Spirit. He has what I need to survive and hopefully thrive as I follow Him into this adventure of writing. Do I ever hope to publish someday? I will confess that I do have that hope; but it is not the ultimate test of artistic expression. I shall write as I sense Him leading me to write; and that alone is justification for the act.

In concluding this brief expository adventure(and thanks for hanging in there with me, by the way...), Let me express the joy that He gives as He allows me to share what He gives me with you. Come on back and share your mental deposits with me as you are able. His joy is expanded among us as we share in His goodness.


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

Lynne

Note from the Land of Lynne

I have posted two pieces today. I've just had a bunch of material brewing; and don't want to burden the other blogs. Actually, I have a new one on the Edge; so I have confess to that one...Be blessed.

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

Lynne

Father

Father,
Do I please You?
Have I measured up
to who You made me to be?
I need You.
You alone know my heart;
and where the arid places
await the rain...
My fear will bow
to faith once more;
as Your word
Keeps me treading water;
and praising You
for Your willingness to pay so willingly
for what I cannot afford to live without.

Choosing Words

I am sitting down to the computer with a measure of intrepidation tonight. I don't have writer's block at the moment; though indecision over a choice of words has been known to hold me back from finishing some pieces of writing. I am feeling like a tube of toothpaste lately. My mouth opens; and the squishy stuff just oozes. I don't always see the color of the ooze until the words are on the page. Thus, I end up feeling a bit naked. That happens to creative types; we create out of our perception, out of inspiration; and a problem arises when we don't know our own hearts. The problem is: the human heart is deceitful. It's contents are often beyond our best mental gymnastics. Perhaps I speak only for myself; bear with me in that event and just nod when you agree:).

The fire to create that burns within me needs balance; if only to keep me on this side of a locked door. That balance comes as I evalutate the worth of a piece of writing in light of human experience and my understanding of Biblical truth. I am far from perfected in this quest; and will be imperfect until I reach glory(and by that time, language as we know it will probably undergo a few changes at least).

There are those rooms in each of our souls that we keep under lock and key. The shadows and the whispers they contain hold the power to free us or maim us; depending on when and if we unlock the door. That fear of being a "black hole of ministry" can certainly keep my locks safe and ward off the use of a key. I am propelled towards hiding in the shadows to make the futile attempt to put the rooms in order without assistance from the outside world. Ideally, the Lord himself will be in charge of the inventory and protect me from others and myself. Reality lauches a series of leaks grown out of loneliness, misguided defense mechanisms, and just the exposure of daily living. We are what we think; and those gems or impurities rise to the surface. Our skeletons rattle in the closet until we let them out in an attempt to find peace.

That peace only comes from leaning on Jesus and the blessed fellowship of the saints. We cannot hold every piece within our rooms on our own and expect to make a picture out of them. We need the Lord's hand, the interaction of our brothers and sisters; and the courage to step out in faith into each new day. There is a price tag to everything; and the cost can leave us depleted or enriched. The full picture cannot be seen apart from a combination of all of these factors.

Thankfully, I can run to my strong tower of safety and find rest. I can check my perceptions against the reality of what God says about me. Truth will set me free; as it has for so many that have come before me. Whatever He uses to bring fresh levels of wholeness to my being is His business.

Ultimately, I pray to be more of a blessing than a burden. My temptation to just hide until I can fix the marred puzzle pieces is strong; tying me with cords of shame. I can apologize for breathing if you catch me on the right day; and I will mean it from the depths of my being. My only hope is in touching the hem of His garment; for there is where the scales on my eyes fall off and the rejoicing begins.
He is able to do what I cannot do; and His sacrifice of love enables me to keep reaching for grace.


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

Lynne

I've had the following verses brewing in me as I wrote this:
John 3:16
Psalm 144
James 4
...and many more I will discuss at a later date:).

More joy,
Lynne

Face in Hands

Face turned upwards;
allowing the hands to
lift the countenance towards
renewed perspective...
I am held in love,
sought after and
devotedly pursued
amid the sound of singing...
Oh, His eyes toward me
melt the hardened places;
ordering my perceptions
toward the eternal,
toward the pure-flowing streams...
...and toward the joy rediscovered
in the midst of memory-walk.