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.

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!

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.

Stripped ideologies of a thirty-five year old mother.

I have written so much in my heart but have not put it to type lately. It is my least favorite time of the year. The struggle with not letting depression win as we are cooped up in these mountains, and always sick for the month of February. My life in this very moment is resembling the end of winter; hopeful sun and then back stepping winter. I wish I could just for a moment see the clear view of a part of what is ahead. It will be none of us, because we are at our end and have nothing left of control to make it all work. It will be all up to God. Our plans are failing. I guess that means that God's purposes will prevail now, right? I can't wait. I am so done with the waiting and am sure the ones in my close circle are tired of hearing about it. It truly is a struggle.
So, for now, I am trying to live in the now. Is there a place for looking ahead? It can't all be just living for what is here. Hopes and dreams are parts of working towards something, working forward. I will not stand still and have not been. As I have been struggling out of this all, I have been stripped of much- it is disorienting even. I feel sort of undone, like it is my second childhood and I am naive again, having to relearn all that I know.
Maybe that is the essence of being in my thirties. I am at the half way point and am ready to be put back together again. I am rebuilding my ideologies in light of all that I have been through up until this age, and with new thoughts and understanding. I wonder how many times this happens in one's life? Regardless, I am learning the balance of filling to pour out. It is a delicate balance for a mother. Grace is handed out moment to moment. Boundaries are loving all ways. Hope never disappoints. Scripture grounds me. It is the age of sifting through all that I know and reshaping what I want to pass down. This is really what it means to be clay. Anyways, cuddles are needed and bedtime is sacred. I hope to be in this creative and reflective space more often....

Comfort and Joy

I am being lovingly stretched beyond my comfort zones. As I drove yesterday, I thought of what a comfort zone actually entailed. It is fear, apathy, self-loathing, people pleasing, or whatever other painful wall we have built to protect ourselves? Or is it a border that we have been taught out of someone else's pain? If it is these stop-growth places, I want to smash them all. I want to be brave in my steps and pushing myself into newness. God is placing these opportunities in front of me and I do not want to waste them, ever.
This has been such a hard year but in the past few months the struggle has eased off and in everything there has been so much growth. I am learning boundaries but not in walls of pain- in healthy ones that heal. I am letting myself learn to be okay and not recoil or react. I am reminding myself to be truthful to the point and not catering to the pushers. It is both a wonderful and a hard place. It is a peculiar thing that happens when we try to protect others at all cost of our own selves. This distorted view of being loving, as we are abused into self-protection. Comfort zones.
I have recently found myself in a new season where some amazing women are lifting me up. It has been so long since I have been able to let go and not carry so much. It is undoing me, but I am loving the freedom in all these unsteady places. Stay tuned... there is a new year upon us....



A Haiku Poem

I have missed so much writing time as things stir in my heart but life flies by. There, however, is always time for a Haiku.

Winter's beauty falls
Reading by the Christmas lights
Tea and blankets warm

weaving choices

Lately I am seeing life as being like one of those pick-an-ending story books. The kind where there are multiple pieces and the story weaves depending on which page you pick to turn to. Each ending makes sense, coming to that end regardless of which weaving path you take.
I so want life to be simple and linear, but it is not. It has me hoping that I am not misunderstood, but picking alternate endings, or middles as it would be. I see the building events of the story and how each page is important to the next. I read into every detail. I really do. (Haha.) Honestly, I just want to make each choice count.
These last two years have been a sort of purposeful weaving and have been teaching me so much along the way. I have had the chance to pick the next chapter and it works in with the last. The linear does not exist, but this web of life has brought in other connections from other pages of my story. I love how that works. I love how God works. My good friend always says, "It is already written."
I like to think, "It will be blessed or redeemed." God is the author.