Today is a good day. Today I am moved with the binding of everything being gathered together toward something wholly good. Today I am feeling interwoven and changed together with a spiritual family, as only God can orchestrate. My prayers meet your prayers, and we are all changed, and we all share a story now. I have sight of my answered prayers and I will always record this wonder to remember the wholeness and freedom that comes as one just grasps the edge of God's goodness, His loving-kindness, sometimes even unexplainable.
Today is Sunday. People gather to be filled up, to meet together, to find community. Today I feel emptied-out, free and whole, hopeful and humbled. Maybe this is how it was intended to be. Maybe we aren't to look for something to hold onto, but rather come to lay things down. To be unwound, unburdened, freed-up, and undone. To forgive and heal. To be forgiven and healed. I saw a man with joy on his face, being healed onward today, and it sent a ripple across the church body. Or at least it moved me to be undone, for God's goodness is so so good and it meant exceedingly much to at least a few. I am still undone. That there was made a space, unselfishly, for this man to step up. It brings a sense of hope. A hope that doesn't disappoint.
And, today our lead pastor left the front to go downstairs and teach our kids, alongside his wife. Have you ever known a pastor to leave the pulpit for the week to teach to the kids? My heart is so much for people that know Jesus well to speak into my kid's lives. I intentionally send them out, hoping for this- for them to catch a glimpse of God's very heart in other people. This is not something that can be manufactured, it has to come from within. It can't be written into the lesson planner, but comes from prayer and actually caring for the kids.
If you know the heart of me, today is a good good day that the Lord has created and planned for. A day where I saw God's heart of redemption, and of His heart for generations. Some more of the things I have prayed for so fervently, and the things that I hope for.
Today I thought about our church and tried to put many thoughts into simple words as we drove homeward. It came to my mind that this growth feels like a Davidic-heart culture; very broken and real people moving towards the heart of God.
I am emptied out and filled up.
Sunday, December 3, 2017
Saturday, August 5, 2017
Joy in the Mourning
I am mourning my Grandma (Cecilia) in the weirdest way. I find myself overwhelmed with tears of joy and overwhelming love when memories of her come to mind. The culture of Grandma's house, and who she was, and who I was when I was with her. Like a reflection.
I mourned the day my Grandpa died and she had to be alone after all the years that he was her protector and provider. I wanted her to come live with us but our home was not set up to be of comfort to her. I was so relieved that my Uncle would move in to be in the home with her.
I mourned the day she had another stroke and had to be in the hospital, soon to be forced into a home for her protection. An institution traded for the function that once was met in a relationship.
I mourned that she was suffering from dementia then and that she may not be her full self anymore, or I would not be me to her either.
But, now I am not sad with pain. I am sad that I cannot see her, but when I see her in my mind it brings joy. I can imagine her in heaven having a hootenanny or something, sitting out back with the birds, gardening in flourishing greens, and herself young and beautiful again. I believe she is set free. Free from the confines of old age and arthritic bones, free from mind fog. She is clear, full, glowing, and under Jesus now. Set free. Not to rest forevermore, but to live forevermore.
I mourned the day my Grandpa died and she had to be alone after all the years that he was her protector and provider. I wanted her to come live with us but our home was not set up to be of comfort to her. I was so relieved that my Uncle would move in to be in the home with her.
I mourned the day she had another stroke and had to be in the hospital, soon to be forced into a home for her protection. An institution traded for the function that once was met in a relationship.
I mourned that she was suffering from dementia then and that she may not be her full self anymore, or I would not be me to her either.
But, now I am not sad with pain. I am sad that I cannot see her, but when I see her in my mind it brings joy. I can imagine her in heaven having a hootenanny or something, sitting out back with the birds, gardening in flourishing greens, and herself young and beautiful again. I believe she is set free. Free from the confines of old age and arthritic bones, free from mind fog. She is clear, full, glowing, and under Jesus now. Set free. Not to rest forevermore, but to live forevermore.
Wednesday, August 2, 2017
An Ode to My Grandma
My Grandma died today. She was eighty-five. She passed in the most graceful way. She went to sleep and woke up in heaven.
My Grandma was my favorite person. She was full of grace, spark, beauty, and gentleness. She could ream out her sons but in the most playful and gentle way. She always had a joyful spirit. My Grandma was so naturally beautiful. She took care of herself and all those around her, and fiercely.
When I was young, I lived just two blocks from Grandma and I would ride the path to her house often. My Grandma was my friend. She brought me along to join her in housework, making beds. She listened. She praised my coloring skills and declared I was an artist. She encouraged me in my growing womanhood. She was full of life and excitement.
One of the last times I saw my Grandma, we had just moved closer and taken my three kids (at the time) to meet her, and she was so so happy to hug them all. She was laughing over and over, "Imagine that!" Full of wonder and thankfulness that she lived to see her grand-babies. She never had thought she would!
I remember so many lovey things about Grandma's house. I mourned the day it was gone- the end of an era. I remember the sweet smell of raw tobacco and instant coffee at her counter, where we sat and chatted. I remember her garden and meals with fresh salads of tomato and green onion that she had picked. I remember the canned peas and fruit cookies in the cupboard too. And, no one can forget her chimed doorbell.
Sigh, I am a little in shock I suppose but all I remember is sweetness about Grandma. The jewellery in her room, her voice, her short hair, her slippers, her eye wrinkles... More memories, on top of memories.
I loved my Grandma so much that I named my daughter after her; Cecilia.
I remember one time she had had a stroke and then no one could get a hold of her. When they did finally reach her, she had told them that she had a dream that she wasn't going to die so she went to the Fall Fair. Stubborn and beautiful. That was my Grandma.
I have heard the tone of her voice in my children's words since they were little. Maybe I look for it. I see her face in my own. I am sad I will not see her for a long while but her legacy will live on in the threads that are passed through our family.
I love you Grandma.
My Grandma was my favorite person. She was full of grace, spark, beauty, and gentleness. She could ream out her sons but in the most playful and gentle way. She always had a joyful spirit. My Grandma was so naturally beautiful. She took care of herself and all those around her, and fiercely.
When I was young, I lived just two blocks from Grandma and I would ride the path to her house often. My Grandma was my friend. She brought me along to join her in housework, making beds. She listened. She praised my coloring skills and declared I was an artist. She encouraged me in my growing womanhood. She was full of life and excitement.
One of the last times I saw my Grandma, we had just moved closer and taken my three kids (at the time) to meet her, and she was so so happy to hug them all. She was laughing over and over, "Imagine that!" Full of wonder and thankfulness that she lived to see her grand-babies. She never had thought she would!
I remember so many lovey things about Grandma's house. I mourned the day it was gone- the end of an era. I remember the sweet smell of raw tobacco and instant coffee at her counter, where we sat and chatted. I remember her garden and meals with fresh salads of tomato and green onion that she had picked. I remember the canned peas and fruit cookies in the cupboard too. And, no one can forget her chimed doorbell.
Sigh, I am a little in shock I suppose but all I remember is sweetness about Grandma. The jewellery in her room, her voice, her short hair, her slippers, her eye wrinkles... More memories, on top of memories.
I loved my Grandma so much that I named my daughter after her; Cecilia.
I remember one time she had had a stroke and then no one could get a hold of her. When they did finally reach her, she had told them that she had a dream that she wasn't going to die so she went to the Fall Fair. Stubborn and beautiful. That was my Grandma.
I have heard the tone of her voice in my children's words since they were little. Maybe I look for it. I see her face in my own. I am sad I will not see her for a long while but her legacy will live on in the threads that are passed through our family.
I love you Grandma.
Friday, June 9, 2017
Intercession (Romans 8:26)
Tomorrow is one year since we moved. I begged my God to let me move. I declared, "I will not stand still." I pleaded to God that I did not want my children growing up in a church whose heritage was division- I could see it coming if it was already not happening in part. I had spent two years in the worst feeling of being cast aside as I watched family upon family chased away because of careless words, drunkeness, and no sensitivity to people searching for God. Now, I am ever grateful for being spared from this curse occurring again. However, I did not move far enough away and am forever attached to this family, this people, my friends. I have been digging for truth in it all. I have been pleading in prayer once again. A had a fire to write just now. Take it or throw it away....
I would believe you if I didn't see the Spirit moving. I would believe you if I didn't see hearts and atmospheres changed. I would believe you if I didn't know about the cursed heritage. I would believe you if I hadn't seen change shunned. I would believe you if I hadn't experienced religiosity and apathy. I would believe you if I didn't know that God is moving across the province, nation, and land, and see the confirming similarities. I would believe you if I wasn't seeing answered prayers of men crying, countenances changing, twenty year opposing- now choosing life, pastoral calls, and vision seeing all happening. I would believe you if debauchery wasn't being removed. I would believe you if the word of God did not say anger, dissension and factions were fruit of the flesh, and joy, love, forgiveness, self-control, were fruit of the Spirit. I would believe you if I was not once given a prophetic vision to match what was now being prophesied. I would believe you if twisted lies weren't running rampant. I would believe you if seething lips weren't calling out accusation on children of God, just as the devil does. I would believe you if you would step closer and remember the gifts God gave you all, the best of each other, and the love for one another. So, maybe I am wrong and you get to decide, but you also get to decide if you will walk with integrity according to the word of God. Can one man bring down a whole army of God, unless he is put there to do so? So where are your fervent prayers? Where are your lifting and gently admonishing words? Building up instead of tearing down. Step closer to the problem. Take a step closer to the people. Remember who you are. I pray God reminds you! Uproot this curse and change it, for our children, for ourselves. There is no us and them, there is only family, best friends, sisters, sons, daughters, neighbors. Show the watching stranger how it's done. Show your children and grandchildren how it's done. Pray for scales to fall, wherever they are, on my own eyes included. We are all sinners, yet we are all loved. Not one worthy, not one forgotten. Your struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, evil principalities. Twisted truths are so powerful, but so is unity, worship warfare and fervent prayer. Pray against pride, pray against witchcraft, pray against evil. Then, pray for goodness, pray for freedom, pray for untying of yokes, pray for the best of each who you know, and remember their heart for God in the past. Pray for restored song, for restored teaching and caring for children, for restored pastoral callings, for restored passionate leadership, for restored hearts for missions, for restored family relationships, for restored best friendships. And, when you are done forgiving as you see God's heart for those you are angry with, bitter at, accusing and biting, then pray for your town. Pray for the next generation of the older ones who are watching this all, just as their parents did. Those names brought to mind, God wants to restore them! Pray for the ones on the edges who were coming in only to be swirled into your anger. Pray for the ones who are feeling manipulated and used as pawns to prove points and build numbers. God came for the one and if even two are being saved, and two have, it will change everything for their children and children's children. Most of all pray for yourself that God would reveal all truth, that you could decide for yourself, unattached to revelry.
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”
II Timothy 1:7 NKJV
I would believe you if I didn't see the Spirit moving. I would believe you if I didn't see hearts and atmospheres changed. I would believe you if I didn't know about the cursed heritage. I would believe you if I hadn't seen change shunned. I would believe you if I hadn't experienced religiosity and apathy. I would believe you if I didn't know that God is moving across the province, nation, and land, and see the confirming similarities. I would believe you if I wasn't seeing answered prayers of men crying, countenances changing, twenty year opposing- now choosing life, pastoral calls, and vision seeing all happening. I would believe you if debauchery wasn't being removed. I would believe you if the word of God did not say anger, dissension and factions were fruit of the flesh, and joy, love, forgiveness, self-control, were fruit of the Spirit. I would believe you if I was not once given a prophetic vision to match what was now being prophesied. I would believe you if twisted lies weren't running rampant. I would believe you if seething lips weren't calling out accusation on children of God, just as the devil does. I would believe you if you would step closer and remember the gifts God gave you all, the best of each other, and the love for one another. So, maybe I am wrong and you get to decide, but you also get to decide if you will walk with integrity according to the word of God. Can one man bring down a whole army of God, unless he is put there to do so? So where are your fervent prayers? Where are your lifting and gently admonishing words? Building up instead of tearing down. Step closer to the problem. Take a step closer to the people. Remember who you are. I pray God reminds you! Uproot this curse and change it, for our children, for ourselves. There is no us and them, there is only family, best friends, sisters, sons, daughters, neighbors. Show the watching stranger how it's done. Show your children and grandchildren how it's done. Pray for scales to fall, wherever they are, on my own eyes included. We are all sinners, yet we are all loved. Not one worthy, not one forgotten. Your struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, evil principalities. Twisted truths are so powerful, but so is unity, worship warfare and fervent prayer. Pray against pride, pray against witchcraft, pray against evil. Then, pray for goodness, pray for freedom, pray for untying of yokes, pray for the best of each who you know, and remember their heart for God in the past. Pray for restored song, for restored teaching and caring for children, for restored pastoral callings, for restored passionate leadership, for restored hearts for missions, for restored family relationships, for restored best friendships. And, when you are done forgiving as you see God's heart for those you are angry with, bitter at, accusing and biting, then pray for your town. Pray for the next generation of the older ones who are watching this all, just as their parents did. Those names brought to mind, God wants to restore them! Pray for the ones on the edges who were coming in only to be swirled into your anger. Pray for the ones who are feeling manipulated and used as pawns to prove points and build numbers. God came for the one and if even two are being saved, and two have, it will change everything for their children and children's children. Most of all pray for yourself that God would reveal all truth, that you could decide for yourself, unattached to revelry.
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”
II Timothy 1:7 NKJV
Monday, May 15, 2017
Vibrant Vines and Palms of Fire
I rarely have a minute to sit down and write out what is spinning in my mind and stirring in my heart. I need to find a way to create a space in which to do this, as I lose so many great chances to write, and can only write from a certain place in me. Anyways, today I am pushing for this space for a minute here...
Yesterday, in collective worship at our church, I had another picture. I am loving that this gift is flowing in me again but am still figuring out how to function in it all. This new creative thought was one that I would love to paint. It was so beautiful. I feel like there is a type of worship that is lead out of a gift for doing so and it feels so different to me, and this day in worship was like that. It is not just about singing songs, but about a heart that is willing to discern what God is saying for that church/group of people and in that time. It is declaring who God is, as well as who we are. It stirs up a war cry inside of us of belonging, and as we pour out our praise it comes back on us and gets all over us. The picture was like that....
As we all stood there in a posture of worship, hearts open forward, standing, these vines so deep and green starting growing up around each of our bodies. From these healthily strong vines flowers started blooming. These flowers were so bright, large, and colorfully pink and purple, spreading out. Then the vines that steadily were growing on us, started to flow out of our mouths and the biggest flowers were growing and flowing out of our very beings, upward from our mouths. There was this wind like a stirring fan and from that, gold dust so thick, and flakey almost, began to fall and swirl down over the people. And, to the ones who raised their hands out to worship and receive, small flames were set upon the palms of their hands. At this part of my picture, I did not dare put my hands down as I knew it was an impartation of the Holy Spirit and it was gently, yet strongly burning just set there. I felt like this flame was set there, not to be taken but to give forward to touch others with.
I love this picture so much and would love to bring it to life as I learn to paint more. It reminds me of scripture that talks of remaining in the vine, and growing up in the vine, as well as the tongues of fire resting on the disciples' heads as they were filled with the Holy Spirit. I am so excited at what God is doing and is coming in our church, and even our continent in this time. I am not the only one feeling this rumble of revival. God is so so good. And, I will find those verses here:
John 15:5~ "I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing."
Acts 2:3~ They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them.
I encourage you to look up and read the verses and chapter surrounding these scriptures as they are powerful and insightful. On to dinner making. Haha.
Yesterday, in collective worship at our church, I had another picture. I am loving that this gift is flowing in me again but am still figuring out how to function in it all. This new creative thought was one that I would love to paint. It was so beautiful. I feel like there is a type of worship that is lead out of a gift for doing so and it feels so different to me, and this day in worship was like that. It is not just about singing songs, but about a heart that is willing to discern what God is saying for that church/group of people and in that time. It is declaring who God is, as well as who we are. It stirs up a war cry inside of us of belonging, and as we pour out our praise it comes back on us and gets all over us. The picture was like that....
As we all stood there in a posture of worship, hearts open forward, standing, these vines so deep and green starting growing up around each of our bodies. From these healthily strong vines flowers started blooming. These flowers were so bright, large, and colorfully pink and purple, spreading out. Then the vines that steadily were growing on us, started to flow out of our mouths and the biggest flowers were growing and flowing out of our very beings, upward from our mouths. There was this wind like a stirring fan and from that, gold dust so thick, and flakey almost, began to fall and swirl down over the people. And, to the ones who raised their hands out to worship and receive, small flames were set upon the palms of their hands. At this part of my picture, I did not dare put my hands down as I knew it was an impartation of the Holy Spirit and it was gently, yet strongly burning just set there. I felt like this flame was set there, not to be taken but to give forward to touch others with.
I love this picture so much and would love to bring it to life as I learn to paint more. It reminds me of scripture that talks of remaining in the vine, and growing up in the vine, as well as the tongues of fire resting on the disciples' heads as they were filled with the Holy Spirit. I am so excited at what God is doing and is coming in our church, and even our continent in this time. I am not the only one feeling this rumble of revival. God is so so good. And, I will find those verses here:
John 15:5~ "I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing."
Acts 2:3~ They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them.
I encourage you to look up and read the verses and chapter surrounding these scriptures as they are powerful and insightful. On to dinner making. Haha.
Monday, May 1, 2017
Ridiculously Refreshing
Sometimes a fire of writing-it-down comes quickly to me. I will be worshipping or prayerful and need to stop and write, right now. Sometimes a thought sticks and I need to pass it on. Sometimes I see a beautiful metaphoric picture. I cannot reproduce these instances and I am seeing more and more that I need to share them. They are not for my benefit but for exhortation, encouragement, or confirmation.
Here is one of these instances from this evening as I was worshipping and cleaning my kitchen, in awe of what God is doing....
I am so excited for what is going on (in a little town) not far from here. He has answered the prayers of the middle generation and brought back their grown children, even the ones on the edge are bending in this year, or will be. You watch! It is a season of breakthrough and restoration, which will lead to a season of new revival.
Two years ago was the most painful for me and many alongside me too. It was more painful to go through and be in the church than 1997. And, if you were there, you know the wave of destruction and division that followed then. But, this time the children now grown, who went through that time, were already praying. And, God was in it.
Instead of division and conflict bringing chaos, it has instead been a Holy shaking that is working even backwards to expose and restore old battle scars and vices used to cope. It is drawing in the ones who know the history and even those who don't but are praying through, to say we will uphold and rebuild and we choose to fight for the promises God gave those before us.
It has been twenty years exactly to the year 1997, for me. God is working in this moment, even backwards to restore people who are not even in the immediate situation anymore. He will heal the wounded and tossed aside. Roots are coming up. Spirits/hearts are being ignited again. We are seeing visions. These days will change for our children. We will not follow the old struggles into the next generation. We will pray intentionally, with open eyes, shackles off, for our children's children. Bring on the new wall!
Sunday, March 12, 2017
Of the Rocky Hill
I have not typed a single word on this blog in what seems like forever. It has been a season of figuring out our new life in the city. I have had many a thought to express, but life has gotten busy. I have had to make do with smaller, easier spaces to write for now. Like in this moment I have children badgering me with requests and questions, and as my kids get older and bedtimes shift, I have lost more of my nighttime quiet block. I however have not lost my creative mind. *Wink*
This is a weird season of rest. I feel like God has allowed me to have a much needed restorative separation. I honestly begged Him for it, and I know He lovingly said yes. I have a picture in my mind of what that looks like, that I am wanting/learning to paint. This healing rest is strange, and in part, painful. I am wrecked in a sense and it feels raw. It is like being carved out with a spoon as the potter reshapes who I am. And in this, some of the whole is kept, but the edges are being made more beautiful. Again my person is being sanctified and resettled, redeemed.
However, I feel like I am at the ugly middle of it all. I can't even see all the purpose in it all yet, or my fave; the inklings. I have faith that it will all be molded together, though. This is not my first rebuild. My God is a good God. The other side of that feeling of being wrecked, is seeing things differently, and revisiting places already experienced. I am finding thoughts that I had doubted and put aside, relit to belief again. Every time I get to this place of growth and stretch, there is a longing in me to dive into the mission field. I want to leave mediocre life and abandon it all. This time around though, I am beginning to see people with the same vision around me. And it came surprisingly, in part of course because God is cool like that.
Just last night, I was journaling about the women who have spoken into my life powerfully and have been influential in growing some part of it. I want to explore those thoughts greater... What is the common thread? Who are they? What qualities did I admire? I am not done my list of women, but I feel like it is leading to a sort of personal mission statement. I am also seeing purposes and spiritual gifts growing in my person.
I am finding as I rest on this rocky hill, I am seeing myself in a more prophetic light regarding spiritual gifts. It is sort of blowing me away actually- I am still a little unsure of how it all looks. I am drawn into counselling as a purpose to work towards. I love the workings of the mind and how everything works together, and how we create change. I still am passionate about encouraging women, so so much. I long to be in study of the bible beyond a capacity that I can find, which gives me a desire to create that myself, and why not?! I have for years had books stored up in my mind, and this year I wrote an actual outline on paper. Life is so fun and ever new. Although, I tend to lean towards the initial thought that life is hard, so I will note that as refreshing.
So, this is my life on the hill. Being renewed amidst a place of being wrecked. It is lovely and frustrating. Angering and settling. Hopeful and cry-worthy. I am rebelling, yet being wooed back to places of my youth. Boomerang spirituality.
This is a weird season of rest. I feel like God has allowed me to have a much needed restorative separation. I honestly begged Him for it, and I know He lovingly said yes. I have a picture in my mind of what that looks like, that I am wanting/learning to paint. This healing rest is strange, and in part, painful. I am wrecked in a sense and it feels raw. It is like being carved out with a spoon as the potter reshapes who I am. And in this, some of the whole is kept, but the edges are being made more beautiful. Again my person is being sanctified and resettled, redeemed.
However, I feel like I am at the ugly middle of it all. I can't even see all the purpose in it all yet, or my fave; the inklings. I have faith that it will all be molded together, though. This is not my first rebuild. My God is a good God. The other side of that feeling of being wrecked, is seeing things differently, and revisiting places already experienced. I am finding thoughts that I had doubted and put aside, relit to belief again. Every time I get to this place of growth and stretch, there is a longing in me to dive into the mission field. I want to leave mediocre life and abandon it all. This time around though, I am beginning to see people with the same vision around me. And it came surprisingly, in part of course because God is cool like that.
Just last night, I was journaling about the women who have spoken into my life powerfully and have been influential in growing some part of it. I want to explore those thoughts greater... What is the common thread? Who are they? What qualities did I admire? I am not done my list of women, but I feel like it is leading to a sort of personal mission statement. I am also seeing purposes and spiritual gifts growing in my person.
I am finding as I rest on this rocky hill, I am seeing myself in a more prophetic light regarding spiritual gifts. It is sort of blowing me away actually- I am still a little unsure of how it all looks. I am drawn into counselling as a purpose to work towards. I love the workings of the mind and how everything works together, and how we create change. I still am passionate about encouraging women, so so much. I long to be in study of the bible beyond a capacity that I can find, which gives me a desire to create that myself, and why not?! I have for years had books stored up in my mind, and this year I wrote an actual outline on paper. Life is so fun and ever new. Although, I tend to lean towards the initial thought that life is hard, so I will note that as refreshing.
So, this is my life on the hill. Being renewed amidst a place of being wrecked. It is lovely and frustrating. Angering and settling. Hopeful and cry-worthy. I am rebelling, yet being wooed back to places of my youth. Boomerang spirituality.
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