I see you

I see you.

You are not invisible.

And you cannot hide from me, 

For my eyes seek you out day and night.

Don’t turn away from me in your season of trial.

Look at me.

No, look me in the eye.

Gaze deep and you will see

The depth of my love for you.

Linger here, gazing into my eyes 

So that you carry the burning truth

Of my undying love for you.

Drink deeply.

Taste and see that I am good.

And walk forth feeling the steadfast gaze of my eyes upon
you.

Ever, always, my gaze is on you.

I see you.

Love - He came running with a ring...

I John 4:16 “And so we know and rely on the love God has for us.”

We’ve all had “love” given and taken away from us. Leaving us wary of trusting anyone to truly love us.  So we hold a piece of ourselves back, keeping an exit strategy open for when this love fails us, again.

But Jesus says “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.” I John 4:18

So the world, and the Church, are full of people who are holding back, afraid to “put all their eggs in one basket”. What are we afraid of? That God will play “bait & switch” with his kids? He shows us in the Bible that everyone who came to Jesus received their healing, but I’m praying for Diane and Chris and Cindy and Grammie and Tia and Allen, and prayed much for my friend, Linda Kelly – but so far none are cancer free, except Linda who is with Jesus now.  Can I trust you to do what you said you would do?

What are we afraid of?  That God is like a game show host, giving us the option to choose door #1, door #2 or door #3, and one of them is a joke, one is a lesser choice, and one is what we actually need and want desperately – like it all depends on me – my choices – and if I choose wrong, then…

I met Jimmy in the summer of 1972.  Then I went back to college, and we got to know each other thru letters and phone calls, some face to face time over Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks.  I went away on a mission trip to France the summer of 1973, so we only had a few weeks together in NJ before and after my trip, and then I was back to college for my senior year.  I was an insecure young woman, wary in love – burned before – and never quite sure that Jimmy would be there for me.  The days when he called, or I received a letter of package were great.  But in between those days, I would doubt whether he really loved me. Then I came home for Christmas break, and Jimmy put a diamond engagement ring on my finger.  I went back to school changed.  Days between letters and phone calls were no longer a problem for me.  I would just gaze at the sparkling jewel -  on MY finger – and know that I was loved, that I belonged to someone. 

We got married in June of 1974.  I continued to grow in trust and love with Jimmy, although I challenged him from time to time.  My parents’ divorce, after 17 years of marriage, had marked me with fear.  One day as I wept in fear after a disagreement we’d had, Jimmy placed his hands on my shoulders and looking me in the eye said “I am not your father.  I’m not going anywhere.  I will always, always, always love you.” Since that time he has continued to remind me of that promise, signing his cards on birthdays and holidays, “love always, always, always, Jim”. 

Despite all of that, the clincher for me was when we passed our 17^th year of marriage, and I audibly sighed “Whew! We made it!” I have learned over the years to rely on Jimmy’s love. And it’s a picture of the Father’s love for me.

Anytime either of us has something we might initially not want to share with the other, we push past that initial reaction and run to tell the secret.  “I was angry with you…”  “I know that I hurt you when I…”

So now I have learned to do this with the Father.  “Daddy, my friend, Linda Kelly has died!” And his arms open and beckon me to come and lean upon him and let his heart comfort me when I don’t understand.

“Daddy, Diane is not doing well, although I have prayed for her!” And he says “come here and let me hold you and remind you who I am.”

“Daddy, what if I choose the wrong door?”  And he says “Look at me! It’s me! Your biggest fan! If you ask me for bread, will I give you a rock?”

So everything I need to go on, even when, especially when I don’t understand, comes from knowing “I am loved by the Father! I am loved by the Father!”

“Abba, I belong to you.                                                                                                                         You came running down my prodigal road.                                                                                           You came running with a ring and a robe.    

Grace the collision on my way back home      

With the arms of a Father who won’t let go.” (Jonathan David Helser, Melissa Helser)

The fruit of the Spirit is love, but you can’t give away what you don’t have.

1 John 4:19:  “We love because he first loved us.”

So come on, climb with me back up on his lap and get some. You’ll get so filled up there that you’ll leak the love like a golden stream of living water wherever you go.  It’s a fruit, a natural result, of being with Daddy, a fruit of his Spirit.

Are all my questions answered? 

No.  

Do kisses really heal boo boos? 

No, but the inner wounds are healed as I lean hard and heavy, with all my weight, “know and rely” on his love for me.  You can say you believe the chair will hold you, but until you sit in it, let all your weight rest in it, you aren’t truly relying on that chair.  God says, “It’s ok.  You can trust me with this one.  I will always, always, always love you.”

My Christmas Bonus

I received an amazing surprise this Christmas.

I don’t usually receive a Christmas bonus at work.  Each year, our boss gives us the week off, with pay, between Christmas and New Year’s Day, so that has always been our “bonus”.  So when my boss dropped a card on my desk the Friday before Christmas, I just tucked it in my lunchbox to open when I got home, so I could get my last minute work projects finished and everything in order at my desk to be gone for a week.

After work I emptied my lunchbox, saw the envelope from my boss, and decided to open it up.  Inside the sweet Christmas card was a folded up check.  “How nice!” I thought, “And so unexpected!”  I unfolded the check and could hardly believe my eyes!  It was not just a few token dollars, but an absolutely extravagant bonus check, and I gasped out loud.  I grabbed my phone to text my boss, but decided a gift this extravagant deserved a phone call.  So I dialed her cell phone and gushed out my shock and surprise, and my thanks for her generosity.  

Her response?  Laughter!  She just laughed and laughed as I gushed on.  She was obviously delighted to surprise me and bless me with her totally unexpected extravagance.

Two days later I sat in church on Christmas Eve, hearing and singing about another gift.  I heard Daddy God speaking to me about the gift he gave on Christmas, the gift of Jesus.  It looked like an ordinary gift, a baby born in some very humble circumstances, hay for a cradle, surrounded by animals in a stable. 

But then I heard Daddy laughing, just like my boss. 

It looked like just an envelope, just a cute Christmas card. 

It looked like a wonderful birth, a happy man and woman, some shepherds, angels singing, something about a promise fulfilled. 

But I saw Father God in heaven planning his surprise, orchestrating Jesus’ birth: the exhausting trip to Bethlehem; no rooms available at the inn; a stable provided at the last minute; the first cries of the tiny newborn Jesus; the weary smiles of Mary and Joseph; the announcement by the angels’, the arrival of the wondering shepherds.  

“This is for you”, Daddy says.  “Open it up.”

It’s just a card, or is it?  It’s just a sweet baby, right?

“You have no idea of what I am giving you today.  This child, my only son will grow to be a man, will teach you how to walk with God, and will suffer and die in excruciating pain on a cross, to bring you into my family, and then rise from the dead to be with you every day of your life, for the rest of eternity!” 

Now I am crying, but not Daddy.  No, he is laughing.  I see his head thrown back and his mouth opened wide in unhindered, joyous laughter, so obviously delighted to surprise me and bless me with this totally unexpected extravagance.

“Praise God for his astonishing gift, which is far too great for words!” 2 Cor. 9:15 TPT

WHAT DOES GLORY LOOK LIKE?

WHAT DOES GLORY LOOK LIKE?

WHAT DOES GLORY TASTE LIKE?

WHAT DOES GLORY FEEL LIKE?

WHAT DOES GLORY SOUND LIKE?

WHAT DOES GLORY SMELL LIKE?

I was taking a walk with one Lord one sunny morning this past summer, when I heard in my spirit a song that God was singing to me:

“What does glory look like, look like, look like?

What does glory taste like, taste like, taste like?

What does glory feel like, feel like, feel like?

What does glory sound like, sound like, sound like?

What does glory smell like, smell like, smell like?”

Smiling, I sang back to God my answers:

“It looks like you – in your glory I see glory.

It tastes like you – O taste and see how very good you are.

It feels like you – every hug is from the Father.

It sounds like you – rushing waters, sounds of comfort.

It smells like you – salty ocean, fragrant flowers.

It looks like you.”

Then He sang it again, “What does glory look like, taste like, feel like, sound like, smell like,” but this time he answered:

“It looks like you – you reflect me in my image.

It tastes like you – you carry my flavor.

It feels like you – every hug is from the Father.

It sounds like you – my words from your mouth.

It smells like you – the fragrance of heaven clinging to you.

It looks like you.”

What?!? Me, God? 

Glory looks like me? 

It was as if Father God was inviting me to a glory encounter, as if he was inviting me to enter into his glory, and come out looking like him.  I have heard Pastor Bill Johnson (Redding, CA) refer to the scripture in Isa. 42:8, where Isaiah writes that God does not share his glory with “another”. But Johnson is quick to state that we are not “another”.  We are his kids, and we get to share his glory. 

Parents don’t get upset when their children shine and excel in what they’re doing.  No, we celebrate our children’s achievements and awards as if they were our own.  And Father God does the same with his kids, with us.  “That’s my son!  That’s my daughter!  Chips off the old block!” he boasts.  He demonstrates his glory to the world through his creation, through his word, through his acts, and through his kids.

So, what does it look like for God to share his glory with us?  In Luke 6:18 we read that “The entire crowd eagerly tried to come near Jesus so they could touch him and be healed, because a tangible supernatural power emanated from him, healing all who came close to him.”  Later, in Acts 5, we see people getting healed who just managed to walk in Peter’s shadow.  I believe that was God sharing his glory with Peter, so that the same supernatural power emanated from Peter and spilled out on the people who came near to him.  Jesus promised that “whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these” (John 14:12).

So go ahead, SHINE! Don’t worry about getting a big head over it. When I see every blade of grass glistening in the dew on a cool fall morning, I don’t praise the grass.  They’re just blades of grass covered in dew, just doing what they were created to do.  They look beautiful, as they reflect the glory of the Father.  And you, you shine with his glory as you do that thing that you were made for, that thing that makes you say, “this is the reason I’m alive!”

So go ahead, draw near to God.  Then dance, write, paint, create, sculpt, teach, sing, act, work in your trade, serve – with all your might.  You’ll glisten with glory, just like those ordinary blades of grass covered with the dew of heaven.  And people will notice, and that’s ok.  Don’t worry about the glory on you; just reflect it right back to God.  May it be said of you, as with Peter and John in Acts 4:13, that people “were astonished and took note that these men had been with Jesus”.

Come & Play!

Holy Spirit, come and play! Come and play with me!

                Do you want to get wet today?

Not so sure about that… Won’t I get cold and soggy?

                So you’d rather be dry?

Is there a balance, not too wet, not too dry?

                Do you want to play or not?

Ok, have your way. What do you want to play?

                Open your mouth, and I will fill it!

What? Fill it with what? Will I like it? Won’t I choke in that position?

                Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it.

OK, here goes.  I’m here and ready, mouth wide open.  Fill me up!

Gushing river coursing down!

Filling my mouth,

Splashing down my cheeks,

Soaking me to the bone,

Clothes and hair dripping with the most exquisite fragrance!

Now what?

                It’s your turn! Go and splash!

                Go and touch, leaving wet handprints of my refreshing goodness on everyone.

                Leave a trail of soggy, glistening footprints for others to find their way to my 
                river of delights.

                And don’t change your clothes. You were made for this.

                You were made to be always wet in my river,

                To leave traces of it everywhere you go,

                To smell like Jesus – the fragrance of spring rain,

                To live in the River,

                To breathe underwater...

DREAM 12-16-2016: VISIT TO HEAVEN?

In my dream last month I was at a funeral home, working to prepare someone for a funeral.  

I must have worked there, because I was so involved in the preparations and stayed with the body all the time.  My friend, Patti was there, too, and we interacted a lot during the process.  There was a funeral bed, and I kept making sure the sheet corners were nicely tucked in.  And the people working with me for the funeral – I kept checking on them, too, making sure their outfits were correct.  The man who went before the body was in a white robe with a belt with tassels and something hanging from the end of the tassels that had to be just right.  Patti and I were scurrying around last minute to make sure he had what he needed to do the job each day.  It was several days of busyness, and then I guess the funeral was over.  Everyone went home.  Patti stayed a bit, and then she left, too.  But I was still there, still tucking the sheets around the corners, tidying up, waiting.

Then I began to realize that the funeral was for me, that the body I had been attending to with Patti was my own.  The funeral was over.  Everyone had gone home.  Still I was there hanging on to this world, my earthly body.  Patti had stayed there with me night and day, talking with me. Then finally she was silent, and she left, like she knew I wasn’t going to be there anymore.  Patti works with the elderly and has birthed several beloved ones through death, and then she lets go, and goes home, and grieves.  Though I was sad when she left me at the funeral home, I knew God told her to go. 

It was a little sad, losing Patti, being all alone, still smoothing sheets, tidying up.  Then I heard someone quietly telling me, “Let it go.  You can go now”.   Was it the man in the white robes?  I don’t know, but I stood there thinking about it, and suddenly realized, “I can go to the Father now!”

 

By now I was half awake in my bed, realizing I was dreaming, but hanging onto the dream to bring it to the end.  I ran out of the funeral home, straight through the closed door – I figured I could do that since Jesus did it after he was resurrected.  Then I shot straight up – yes I was flying – heading to heaven, to my Daddy.  And I heard heaven laughing, saying, “Yup, she just realized she can fly!”  And I flew right into heaven and there was Jesus, waiting for me on top of a hill, wearing the white robe, and I flew right into him and knocked him down and we laughed, and cried, and rolled around on the ground, and hugged, and I kept saying, “This is what I was made for, this is what I was made for!”

Then I remembered the play I had taken part in, years ago.  I think it was called “Heaven’s Gates/Hell’s Flames”.  The play depicted what happens when people die.  There were people who didn’t know Jesus, and they died and went to hell, and there were people who knew or met Jesus, and died, and they walked up the steps to heaven.  When I was auditioning for my part, I so hoped I would get to be one who went to heaven – I so wanted to be enveloped in Jesus’ arms.  And I got my wish.  I played the part of a woman who knew Jesus, and died in a car accident.  After I “died in the accident”, I approached the steps of heaven and Jesus was there at the top of the stairs.  I practically ran up the stairs and he took me in his arms and I held onto him for probably longer than I should have as I imagined in my heart that it was really Jesus, and really heaven and everything I had gone through, car accident in my case, was nothing anymore, just be in Jesus’ arms. 

And now, here I was, not in a play anymore, but really here in heaven.  Really in his arms.  Then Jesus picked me up, just like I was a little girl, and I didn’t need to ask him where he was taking me.  I knew he was carrying me to the Father.  I was going home.  And I am laying in my bed crying by this time, because everything I had ever wanted had been fulfilled.

THE PROS AND CONS OF A WRAPAROUND SKIRT

THE PROS AND CONS OF A WRAPAROUND SKIRT

Growing up in the 60’s I remember wearing a wraparound skirt.  It was an open piece of fabric with long ties on the top corners.  You put the skirt on by wrapping it around your waist, slipping one tie through a large buttonhole, and then tying the ties around your waist in the front. It was an easy skirt to wear, and an easy skirt to sew.  If you lost a little weight, you just overlapped the edges of skirt a little more.  If you gained a few pounds, the overlapped area was smaller.  But if you gained too much weight, the overlap on the skirt was not so forgiving so that when you sat down, you had to be careful lest your slip – or something worse if you wore no slip! – was peeking through.  Those extra pounds left me more exposed than I wanted to be in my wraparound skirt!

Sometimes life seems too much like wearing my wraparound skirt when it’s not fitting so well. Worry, fear, anxiety creep in.  How am I going to make it?  How is this ever going to work out?

God’s answer?  Ps. 3:3:  “You take me and surround me with yourself.” 

Ps. 7:10: “God, your wrap-around presence is my protection and my defense.” 

Ps. 5:12: “Lord, how wonderfully you bless the righteous. Your favor wraps around each one and covers them…” (Passion Translation)

The Father says, "No worries, I gotcha covered whether you’re on track, or you have slipped up again."  

Need a safe place?  There are no gaps in his presence when I hide myself in him.  He’s the wraparound God who envelops me, and you, in his arms. Come and join me on the Father’s lap.  Come live from his presence.