Sparrow Dwelling

He whispers quiet in the night when I am at an end of myself.  He calms and quiets me with His love. A love that speaks strong but still. For I find Him most in the stillness. Not in the racing or the chasing or the striving, but in the aloneness of an empty bedroom, the stillness of the dark night, the mighty quiet of His open Word.


Psalm 84
     'How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts!
     My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the Lord;
     my heart and my flesh sing for joy to the living God.

     Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself,
     where she may lay her young, at your altars, O Lord of hosts,
     my King and my God.'



He remembers this sparrow. He knows this weak song.

And He gently reminds me that there is a home. A good and safe and pleasing home in the house of God. He is my home. He is my resting place. And He is ever waiting for me to simply fly home. To stop the flitting and wandering. To rest quiet in the shadow of His wings. To find peace in repentance and rest. This winter quiet is made for renewal. Restoring the heart and soul and mind. Laying the young ones in the care of the Almighty. For He cares for them more than I can imagine.

So tonight I rest. . . in the shadow of God.

My Shepherd

It's only mid-October and the worn pages of my Bible already want to flip to Luke 2.  The anticipation of Christ coming is already fluttering through my heart, so I peek ahead and read Mary's song and Joseph's obedience and angel glory among the stars.

And there they are. . . in the middle of God with us. . . right in the center of holy made human. . . perhaps the most human of us. . . shepherds.  Since childhood I've wondered at this mystery of the shepherds.  Of all the people in all of the earth, why do we see the worn, wandering wilderness walkers. The keepers of livestock, with the scent of open air and dust and fleece clinging to their weathered skin.  These men who live slow, ceaselessly watching these low, little lambs.

These men who hold fast to the staff, who steer the wandering ones back to safety, to quiet waters and green pastures.  These peace seekers, these care givers, these shelter makers give their hours and moments and days to the care of the sheep.  Always seeking their interest, always protecting, always pursuing life.

Even in the night watches they are present. For the darkness proves to be a great testing ground where lurking wolves, and steepest slopes, and danger prowl the night. But the shepherd is there, ever watching his sheep.  And the sheep rest calm in the evening breezes, still in the shadows, ever trusting their faithful shepherd. 


Until one night, changes everything.


A new shepherd has come. . . One who will shepherd the people.  One who will bend low, and care, and show us the way.  One who will guide us in righteous paths and provide our every need, a restorer of souls.  A perfect Shepherd whose presence walks with us through the very valley of death's shadow and brings us into the shelter of His light.  One who gives abundantly of His truth and mercy and grace.

But now that servant Shepherd is wrapped in newborn skin and the holy human holds a virgin's hand. And there is cause for rejoicing because the mighty is made miniscule to feel our suffering and heal our hearts.

And who better to tell the world than a handful of men who know the ministry of shepherding?

I am glad the Maker of heaven and earth sent His holy messengers to tell the men on the hillside of Immanuel, God with Us. I believe it was no accident that the Good Shepherd told his friends first.  For He has come to seek and to save. . . just like a shepherd, my shepherd.

Glory

This. This is glory.

The majesty of the setting sun. The careful craftsmanship of the clouds. The shadows and light that create the masterpiece.

The movement. The stillness.

The Creator draws you in, unto Himself.  At this closing of the day, a time of reflection, of moments lived and love worn beautiful.  The passing of things and the dawning of the new.  The ever changing, yet constant skies. 


Like our God, always moving in directions to shine His glory, whether it is through His clouds or through our hands.  Longing to trace His beauty in a stream of light, in a stream of grace, in a stream of life - given out for man.


His eternal purpose is to show us His beauty and His glory.  We see glimpses in the golden sky, in the newborn smile, in the grasses green, and the mountains high.  But His goodness comes in drops, for our smallness cannot comprehend His beautiful while we walk this tainted sod.  He gives us doses of His nature, revealed in His creation.


Like a moving picture book that tells the story of His graciousness.  And He tells of what is to come, when new heaven is revealed and eternity shines in I AM alone.  The place where gold shimmers under our feet, because gold shivers in humility compared to the glory that is God. 


For His light will be our everlasting, His glory our salvation, His majesty our beginning and end.  Glory be to the King of Heaven, our Creator, our Lord!

Light

"Then Jesus again spoke to them, saying, 'I am the Light of the world; he who follows  Me will not walk in darkness, but will have the Light of life."  John 8:12

The days have been dark here of late.  Darkness in passion lost, darkness in the dreariness and drudgery of the everyday. Darkness in following a path that is not in the light. 

It is lonely in the dark . . . and frightening. 

I am so glad that His promise that was written thousands of lifetimes ago, still can give hope to a small, scared, wandering girl today. "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning!" Psalm 30:5

This hard weeping is but a watch in the night, a season, a moment in the story of time. And this night produces fruit. It brings forth hope, for when things are darkest that is when we look up. Look up to the Father and the heavens to see His face, always gentle, always loving, always seeking us.

He promises joy carried on the wings of morning. A true abiding joy that can only be a gift. . . given of the Spirit. A joy of contentment, a joy of gladness, joy in His presence. And this beautiful joy is always accompanied by the light. The light of His ways and the light of His Word. 

So there is hope that the Joy of morning is dawning, to shed a new light, direct a new path, and bring forth the presence of the Lord. Follow the Light of the World today, I know I am.

Abide

 

For bedtime stories the boy with auburn curls brings me the Word to read, for tender ears to hear before dreams come.  This is the third night in a row he has chosen the Bible as his "bedtime story."  Tonight he says, "Did you know that those words in red are what Jesus said?  He actually said those words, right there!"  Joy and love and excitement fill his voice and his eyes - I love his love for the Lord!  This childlike faith that Christ calls us to have is simply beautiful.  Fully trusting.  Fully loving.  Fully abiding.


So we read the words in red.  The words from THE WORD covered in the red sacrifice of His life.  Words that give life, words given by the author of life.

"Abide in me. . ."  John 15:4


He calls us to abide. . . to remain. . . to rest in Him. 

He has called us to do many things, but the one thing that is of the greatest importance is abiding.  Ever dwelling in His presence.  Bringing our minds, our hearts, our souls into constant communion with Him.  Living and growing in our Lord. 

I'm guilty though, of NOT abiding.  It's easy to do when habits have turned a life into go, Go, GO!!  When swimming pools and $1 movie theaters and kids museums call for summertime fun.  When you go so much, in search of fun or entertainment or. . .fulfillment that you forget you had it all before you even walked out the front door.  You have it all in the palm of your hand. . .a holy Word and a holy God just waiting for you to stop. 

Waiting for you to stop for a moment to ABIDE. 


To be in Him and to let Him fill you. 


You won't get full on popcorn or chlorine or eye candy.  To be filled you must be still.  To be filled you must drink the Living Water.   

 

 

 

And this jar of clay can't be filled by some drive thru version of the Gospel.  Believe me, I've tried the five minute morning devotions, the three minute bedtime prayers, and the one and a half minute "Thank you for this food Lord" blessings over meals. 

 

This gospel of convenience is not the gospel of Christ.  He calls us to lay down our lives to follow Him. . . to count the cost and give Him your all, not just your leftover. 

 

 

We can only be filled when we are daily abiding in Him.  Keeping our jar continually in His presence.  Being filled by the Word, by prayer, through worship (not just on Sundays) but everyday, every hour. 

 

So I know our summertime is going to be doing a flip!  From GO to slow.

Because it's hard to be still when you're racing go carts.  It's hard to see eternity when the tv is stealing your time. 

 

And if Christ himself spoke those words in red just hours before He was arrested.  Maybe He wanted them to leave a lasting impression on the hearts of His disciples and on the heart of now.

 

"Abide in me."

 

 



 

 

 



 

 

 



Choices, Choices

Life's full of choices isn't it?  Some are simple, some. . .not so much.

Paper or plastic. . .
Chocolate or vanilla. . .
Game night or movie night. . .
Quiet time or tv time. . .
Facebook or The Book. . .
Good or evil. . .
Life or death. . .

It all began in the Garden really, when an eternal God made a beautiful world and placed us right in the middle of His glory.  Perfection lived out right before our very eyes in blooming flowers and flowing water and soaring birds. . .and then He planted the choice.  Right there in the middle of His garden, planted in the fertile soil of life's beginning, right there in the tenderness of our hearts.  All knowing God gave us a choice. . . one that could be seen and touched and tasted.  Two trees - one bearing the fruit of eternal life and one bearing the fruit of eternal death.  One choice, one taste is all it took.


We all know the choice our human parents made long ago because it is lived and felt every day of our lives.  We flesh it out in our daily choosing of our own life or death.  The taste of the fruit we choose is fresh in our mouths.  Will we choose this moment to live and obey, or will we choose in this moment to die in disobedience and rebellion?


We see the choices woven throughout Scripture of the ones who chose the good fruit.  Abraham tasting the fruit of faith as he left all to follow the one true God.  Joseph picking obedience as he heeded his father's voice and chose over and over again to do what was right in every circumstance.  Noah, Daniel, Nehemiah, Ruth, Elijah. . .all life followers. 


And then we see the greatest life follwer of all. . . a baby born and God wraps His son in newborn flesh and places the King of Heaven in a virgin's arms.  And that boy grows into a man who heals and preaches and prays.  A man who chooses the fruit of obedience to His Father even when the fruit seems bitter.  Even when the fruit of life comes at the cost of death.  A man who loves His God Father so much he gives his body to be beaten, his name to be assaulted, and his spirit to be given . . . all to please the Father who loves the world. 


This world that is sin lusting and dripping in self.  These people who are mocking and hating and killing.  Right in the middle of our sin . . . He loved us and He died for us.  So that when we choose the fruit of death He can offer the gift of life.  So that when our self saturated hearts fall in the pit of destruction He is there to lift us up and wrap us in the gift of His blood, so when the Father glances our way He doesn't see our sin choice, He sees His Son's life choice.  He sees the One who is Son and God and man all wrapped in one, who chose freely to give us life through His death.  The Son who gives us still the fruit of life and all its glory!

Snow Blossoms

Winter drags its icy fingers into spring. .  holding on for dear life.  We saw it yesterday here as snow fell on flower blossoms.  Heavenly crystals swirling slow and silent, to fall on the white cups of bradford pear glory.  These seasons manifest my heart.  This winter has been a dark, cold, icy one.  Darkness lingers and its hard to hold onto the light sometimes. . . 

And this is why I'm thankful. . . this is how I know He is faithful.  That no matter how I feel or how bleak the world may look - He is always good and He is always God.  He is faithful and true.  His beautiful love is ever waiting to be known.   And it is this love that melts the cold, hard, bitter winds of winter deep. 


I can see the sweet blossoms of spring trying to fill my world, if only winter chill would leave and falling snow would pass.  In all, I cling to the Maker of the spring and the snow, the One who knows me by name and gave everything for my soul.  I will hold fast to the Potter who fashioned these days for my good and His glory. 


                 "I will lift up my eyes to the hills -
                  From whence comes my help?
                  My help comes from the Lord,
                  Who made the heaven and earth.

                  He will not allow your foot to be moved;
                  He who keeps you will not slumber.
            
                  The Lord is your keeper,
                  The Lord is your shade at your right hand.

                  He shall preserve your soul. . .
                  From this time forth, and even forevermore."

                                                                Psalm 121:1-3,5,8

Christmas Light

 

 

 

 

 

I pile the children into the car to escape for a moment.  Pajama clad little ones find cozy seats and settle in for the journey - we are searching for Christmas lights!  We ooh and aah over bowing white reindeer and smiling, glowing snowmen.  Faces press against glass to see the manger scene, Mary and Joseph hovering over a sleeping Jesus.  Carols of Christmas joy playing on the radio.  Then we bustle home to holiday bedtime stories and red blankets and penguin pillows.  Rest and peace. . .

That's when I slow. . .and ponder. . .and read again the story of light coming down to this dark, lost world.  With candles and Christmas tree aglow in the quiet I can see. . . light really does overcome the darkness. 

I read a story once about a man who opened his dark closet to get a board game out for his children to play.  As he opened the closet door, light from the hallway immediately flooded into the closet so he could see the games, to choose one.  The thought of the light filling the dark space suddenly struck him.  He closed the door and opened it again and each time the light filled the darkness.  He called his children to come and see,  they were not as impressed and eager to play the game, but that simple thought of light being greater than the dark stayed with him.  He said that darkness did not spill into the bright hallway, making the hallway darker, but light took over the blackness.  At first I thought this story was silly and simple, but the more I considered it the more meaningful it became.


God's first act of creation was light.  A light that was greater than emptiness.  A light that was greater than the deep void of nothingness.  A light that would be the foundation of creation.  A light separated from the darkness.  A light foreshadowing the light of the world.  A light whispering of salvation. . .


Manger wrapped and starlight soaked, Elohim sends His perfect light to pierce the darkness.  Yahweh Himself gives the purest, most hallowed gift of all, His very Son, His very self, His very heart. . . The first gift of Christmas was light Himself.

                "In him was life, and that life was the light of men."  John 1:4


Light sent to the dark streets of Bethlehem.  Light sent to the dark places of our hearts.  Light sent to overcome the darkness, the blackness, the sin, the sorrow. 


              "The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it...
              He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the
              world did not recognize him."   John 1:5,10


Salvation sent, in baby soft skin and feathery hair and newborn cry, but we do not understand.  How can such tiny fingers change a world?  How can toothless mouth speak words of God. . . be the Word?  The darkness of sin clouds the eyes and the heart.  Our comfortable blindness darkens the mind, so we cannot understand that this baby is God reaching down to man.  This baby holds the salvation of humanity.  This baby is  God with us!


               "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.  We
               have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from
               the Father, full of grace and truth."      John 1:14


So maybe this is why we go in search of Christmas lights this year.  Maybe this is why we spread glowing bulbs on fragrant pines and light flames in scented wax.  Maybe we are all searching. . . hoping to find the light.  Maybe we are all on this journey to see Him and know Him more through the gift of His perfect Son, the light of the world.  Maybe the darkness of sin and blindness of this world cause us to want to see. . .see the truth, the hope, the miracle of God with us. 


May His light shine in our hearts this Christ coming!

"And (they) said to Moses, "Speak to us yourself and we will listen.  But do not have God speak to us or we will die."    Exodus 20 :19 NIV


"We show how little we love God by preferring to listen to His servants only.   We like to listen to personal testimonies, but we do not desire that God Himself should speak to us.  Why are we so terrified lest God should speak to us?  Because we know that if God does speak, either the thing must be done or we must tell God we will not obey Him."       -Oswald Chambers



Oh, how guilty I am of this very thing!  Reading devotions online, browsing blogs, or scrolling screens - turning the pages of a book someone else has written about God, when He is longing to write His story on the pages of my life. 

I go searching for some deep meaning or answers to the questions I carry and the burdens I bear, when the ultimate answer guide has already been written thousands of years ago.  He is the answer because He is the way. . . He is the truth.

ALL I need is God!

He is fullness!

The work of His salvation and the revealing of His nature and will is already made complete.  He has revealed Himself to us in His Word and by His Spirit.  But I will never hear Him speaking if my mind is clouded with everyone else's experience with Him.  I must take the time to spend in His Word, in prayer, and in being still listening to what He has to say to me, for my life.  

On Mission

These words struck me today as I was reading Sally Clarkson's book "The Mission of Motherhood." I hope you find her words as inspiring as I did. . .

"Over and over again in the Gospels, we read that the disciples were "with" Jesus. Our Lord developed the hearts of his followers by spending time with them - instructing them, advising them, modeling right behavior. He spoke with them one-on-one and in small groups. He included them in his ministry and in his daily life. But what he almost never did with his disciples was to sign them up for activities and programs.

We are on the go for God. We are busy doing many activities and going to this meeting and that seminar. Yet all of the going in the world will not make us or our children spiritually deep or alive. It is only by coming to the living God and developing intimacy with him that we will really draw near in our hearts to Christ.

Jesus didn't meet with his disciplies once a week for Bible study and then say, "I'll see you next week!" He gave his disciples his whole life. He lived with them, slept with them, traveled with them, and lived out a life of godly maturity before their eyes. Having the personality of the God who created the universe living with them every moment for three years gave them an understanding of his ways that nothing else could do. They observed him in the private times of friendship and eating and sharing and being exhausted and buying and preparing food as well as in public ministry - teaching, healing, worshiping, confronting, encouraging. There was perfect integrity between the words he spoke and the life he lived. Thus his disciplies could learn what righteousness looked like in all situations."
(taken from The Mission of Motherhood by Sally Clarkson)




What implications this has for us as mothers! We have the beautiful opportunity every day to live out the Gospel and be the hands and feet of Christ. He was the perfect example of how we should interact with our children. He carefully and purposefully guided them in truth. He shared and illuminated the ways of God in such a way that they could understand and grow in the knowledge and wisdom of the Holy One. We are to do the same.

These little ones come to us ready to be molded and taught. They learn not only by the words we say, but the way we live our very lives. How we respond in traffic, the tone of voice we use at the end of the grocery shopping trip, the joy or sorrow we display, it is all seen and heard by little souls who will reflect this behavior.

I pray that in my teaching, in my exhaustion, in my worship, in every waking hour my children will be able to see a small reflection of the righteousness of Christ.

I pray for His blessings and pray for His peace
Ask for the littles to have peaceful sleep.
Call out His name when I'm tired or down
Forgetting the cost of the thorn and the crown.
Foolish and focused on all that I need
Missing the forest because of the trees.


I have it all backwards or so it would seem
When begging for blessing comes so easily.
The giving should be TO the Father above
Who once gave His Son, and His life, and His love.


So, may I bless Him with my words and my deeds
Helping, forgiving, and loving so free.
He gave it all, so that I might have life
Now may I live fully for only my Christ.


(my small song for Him tonight, I love you Jesus!)  :)

Motherhood

I am made a mother in late November.  No slight thing that this girl. . . made wife. . . made mommy happens two days before Thanksgiving.  What an amazing gift to be thankful for!  The gift of motherhood! 

I am so thankful that 'God only wise' allowed me this unspeakable joy of mothering.  It is almost a shadow of a glimpse of the ever encompassing love He has for us.   To have and to hold made flesh simply. . . to have more and to hold more.

I know love deeper because I am a mother.

I know compassion more fully because He has placed these little ones in my care.

I know joy wider because of their sparkle filled eyes.

I know peace stronger because they have rested in my arms.

I know life sweeter because of the sweetness of their embrace.

I know the Father stronger because of this gift of mother journey.

Thank you Lord for making me a mother.  For trusting me enough to guide these tender ones to You.  For showering grace after grace on us.  I love You!

God Comes in the Quiet

Our God comes in the quiet things.

Even now the heavens are declaring His glory, but not a word is spoken.

Trees praise with uplifted arms.

Light burns with joy, turning sunset bright.

He whispers His love on white butterfly wings. 

As blossoms fall from budding trees, we see His goodness.

The fullness of the earth is His and cannot help but shout silent His wonderful works!

If only I would stop and see the words He's written on the world. 

To be still. . . quiet. . . and hear Him speak.

Quiet Thanks

Lying quiet on lavender dusted field.

The breath of clouds drift soft against sky blue.

Child laughter dances across the breeze.

Bare toes run on spring grass to deliver yellow lioned flowers.

Butterfly white skipping on wind's joy.


For this I am grateful. . .

the beauty of spring

the quietness of His presence

the unexpected refreshing

handfuls of dandelion love

laughter shared with women of faith

"Come here, I want to kiss you," from my little guy

chasing bubbles in the wind

new mercy

being close to Him

knowing Him more day by day

# 230-239

Satisfactory Apathy

The mail piles up on kitchen counter.  Sales papers, credit card offers, utility bills, and the starving cry for my attention.  I browse the sales, tear up the offers, file the bill to be paid, and pause.  This is my choice.  Here, delivered right to my mailbox is a way, a way I've been seeking to help the needy, serve the poor and homeless, sick and orphaned.  But how many times have I seen the bloated tummies. . . and thrown them in the trash.

Our nation oozes affluence.  Even in our humble home, living on a budget with five people who need to eat and a light bill that needs paying and clothes that need to be bought, we live in the top 20% of the wealthy of the world.  The other 80% of the world lives on less than $10 a day, and a majority of that group lives on less than $1 a day.

The saddest part of this story is that most people will read those statistics and think, "Wow, that's hard to believe," and promptly change the channel on the television and stuff another handful of potato chips in their mouths.  This seems harsh, but the reality is that most of us know there is desperate need in this world, but most of us do absolutely nothing about it.

Even now I can see the rolling eyes and groans of people who have become so apathetic you can see their hearts harden before your very eyes.  I am ashamed to say, that for awhile that was me.  The envelopes fill the mailbox, and if you give once they all come asking again and again, until it feels like all you give is going to pay for the postage of all this mail you receive.  But when it comes down to it, the question is, am I willing?

Am I willing to make the right choice.  To choose seven meals for the starving or one for my family to eat dinner out.  Am I willing to choose sacrifice over self?  Am I willing to love others more than I love stuff?  Am I willing. . .

This begs the question, what if I had been born in sub-Saharan Africa, what if my mother had just died of AIDS, what if there was nothing at all to eat. . . or drink. . . or wear?  What if all I knew was desperation and starvation and loneliness?  I would want someone to care.  I wouldn't want my picture thrown in the trash.  Choose today.  Boldly care, boldly give in faith, and there will be no regrets.




"It's very apparent that you are to love the Lord with all your heart and then you're to love your neighbor as yourself.  And myself doesn't want to be starving, and so I don't want other people in the world to be starving.  Jesus does not ask that we care for the less fortunate, He demands it."   -Katie Davis


www.samaritanspurse.org
www.compassion.com
www.WorldVision.org

To Love

He whispers love after only a month . . .
He says he already knows I'm the one.  Says it quiet, as if the secret slips out it might not come true.
He writes it in the Bible he gives me for Valentine's Day that first year.
He breathes it in the cold night air as he walks me to my dorm room to say good night.
He shows me with surprise flowers and chocolates left on my car window - joy discovery!

He never stops.

He is always there, pursuing, giving, loving. . .
Even when scared girl puts the wedding off a year.
Even when she seeks shelter under parents' wing.
Even when she hurts and cuts him deeper than she knows.
He is there.

Always steady.  Always strong.
Always ready to give.  Always ready to love.

The years crease lines beside our eyes, happy lines, marking the smiles of life's joy.
Through wedding bliss and babies born, through the building and rebuilding years of marriage walls.
This walk beside him has made me who I am.
I could not imagine life without his steadfast love.
I am grateful for never failing, always enduring, ever bearing and believing love.

The Least

He uses the small ones.  The ones who hide in the background.  The ones who are sweeping the floor and tending the sheep.  The young ones, the poor, the least.

That's how He called His chosen ones' first king.  From the smallest tribe, from the least family in the tribe.  How a lonely walk searching for lost donkeys can lead to prophet prayers.

And then the quiet shepherd boy, forgotten in the fields, youngest of 8 brothers, called in to receive the anointing oil of kingship.

And sweet Mary, poor girl from a small town, humble of heart, yet honored above all women to be the mother of the Messiah.

He uses the ones who least expect it.  The ones attending to their daily chores, completing their mundane tasks, faithfully working in small ways. . . faithfully serving.

After all, didn't He teach us this way.  This way of serving others, caring for forgotten flock, simply obeying parents, daily working.  This way of doing the jobs no one else cares to do. . . feeding the hungry, comforting the wounded, washing the feet.

Savior example shows love in the little, daily tasks of loving.  Washing dirty, chubby fingers of little ones, preparing meals, reading quiet, bending down to serve, to love.

 "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."                                            Galatians 6:9

Spirit Fire

       "Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven
         and filled the whole house . . . they saw what seemed to be tongues of
         fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were
         filled with the Holy Spirit."                      -Acts 2:3-4



He tells them just before He ascends the sky. . ."wait for the gift."  (Acts1:4 NIV)

"My Father has promised. . .in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit."

The gift.  The Promise.  The Spirit.

He filled the room with His mighty rush of wind.  As disciples gasp and breathe in the breath of God.  These fish followers made God followers hear the Spirit move around and through and within.  Then they see holy fire descend . . . upon them.

Tongues of fire!  Brilliant orange, yellow, white ever moving glow of fire.
The fire of God's presence coming down to rest on the believer.
The fire of His perfect purity. . . refining, surging, dwelling here and now.

"Our God is a consuming fire. . ."   Hebrews 12:29
Never contained, fear and awe provoking, yet choosing to be God with us, God in us.  The fire of His presence resting on the heart of man.  Holy made holdable.  But resting for a moment and only to be used to spread the Word.  To share the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  To tell the world what our God has done - He has come, He took on flesh, He lived and loved and taught and healed and died to reconcile sinners to Himself, He rose, He lives, and He wants all to know.


Flaming tongues tell the story. 

Muslim, Jew, Egyptian, Chinese, Arab ears hear and turn amazed.  Thousands listen to the fiery Peter.  The flaming message touches hearts and hundreds choose to follow.



So what happend along the years?  Have we forgotten the amazing power of God?  Do we not realize or believe that the Spirit of the living God can live inside of us?  Or have we become deadened by idolatry of self and culture to even feel His presence?

May the fire of His Spirit burn inside our hearts to tell the world His story . . . our salvation.

Spirit Wind

      "Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven
       and filled the whole house . . . they saw what seemed to be tongues of
       fire that separated and came to rest on each of them.  All of them were
       filled with the Holy Spirit."                                    -Acts 2:3-4


Wind. . .
Fire. . .
The filling. . .

Isn't it amazing how God reveals Himself to us. . . how He shows us His character and nature?
How indescribable the wind?  A torrent of the rushing breath of God. . .
Swirling, filling, stirring, touching. . .
Ever moving in itself and ever moving souls toward Him. . .
Reminiscent of Adam's first life breath, or the Red Sea water walls made only by the wind, or Elijah's mountaintop with God.

He was there - the Spirit - the Holy Spirit of God. . . from the beginning when "the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters."  (Gen. 1:2)

As flood waters fall back by a mighty wind, as the Spirit fills the hearts of kings, and words of prophets.  The Spirit has always been.  Watching, working, moving.

But now comes His time, His work, His mighty indwelling - Pentecost.

When God gives the ultimate gift, the gift of His very presence, God with us, not only in flesh. . . deeper. . . God with us in our very soul. 

Flesh touches, hugs, heals, hurts, and hangs on wooden cross.  Redemptive work.

Oh, but Spirit indwells. . . with power and peace, might and meekness, holiness and humility.  Sacred work.

God in us.

Christmas Love

I never knew the fullness life could have until I experienced the complete joy of having children. When your life is your own, before covenant love marriage, and before life bearing gifts, one is lost to the wonder of cultivating a family. My children have filled me with such laid bare love I never knew I could contain, and I still don't know how my heart holds the fullness. I have done things for my children, that I would do for no other (besides my Lord), and I would do anything for them, to see their happiness, to hear their delight, to feel their love, and know their joy.

This reflection of my Father's love for me, for all His children. Oh, how he longs to see our joy, our passion, our delight, our growth. But how much more His love for His own dear, beloved, only son. Forever one - Father, Son, Spirit - but one must be sent. Alone for a time. To save the lost, sinning, hurting children. How the sending must have hurt. How the watching and the knowing must have burned.

And now here we are at Christmas, hanging our colored festivity, dripping opulence on doors and banisters and souls in the name of celebration. But, for all who were truly there that first holy night knew the pain of Christ-coming. Joseph - road weary, anxiety laden for his pregnant bride, responsibility burdened to keep safe the Saving One. Shepherds - society scrap, poor, wandering, lonely care givers to foul smelling grazers. Mary, beautiful Mary - her pain one of the greatest, teenaged mother, honor scarred, travel sore, searing hot contractions, alone among the burden bearing beasts, giving all, giving life to her Life Giver. The Father - watching His ONLY Son born, into this sin loving, law forsaking world, but born to be the sacrifice for the hating, cursing, hurting ones, that He loves. Oh, the pain and the joy all wrapped in one swaddled baby.

Let us not forget the sacrifice of Christmas. In our remembrance, what will we sacrifice? What will be our Gift to the Giver? Helping the hurting, as He did; laying down our idols of selfishness, or pride, or culture love; or just adoring and worshiping this baby king made Messiah made Savior. Reflect on the pain as well as the love and know that our Father sees our pain and loves us unconditionally, for we are His children.