Hands Off!

Don’t touch me there!

Hands off!

I got that scar 5, 10, 15 years ago

And it reminds me everyday

To keep you and everyone else

Out of my life.

But Jesus came

Bearing scars of his own,

And an invitation:

“Touch the nail prints,

Put your hand where the blood flowed from my side.

Let my wounds give you freedom

To let yours go.”

“You can trust me with your scars.

I can’t promise it won’t hurt.

But I can promise you freedom

From the prison you have locked yourself in.

You thought it would keep you safe,

But it just kept you wounded,

Alone in your painful memories.”

“May I? Yes?

I am peeling back the layers,

Uncovering disguised feelings,

Reactive behaviors,

Exposing the roots.

Scraping, cleaning,

Replenishing the soil,

Pouring in the oil,

The water of the Word,

The light of my presence.”

“No longer are you defined by your scars!

You are safe in my arms,

Healed by my wounds.

And one day, like me,

You will offer your scars

As a testimony of hope

For others’ healing.”

All About a Wedding

I just returned this month from a 14 day prayer journey in Italy.  It was amazing!

Our prayer journey to Israel four years ago was all about birthing, and especially birthing twins.  Our prayer journey to Italy developed a wedding theme early on.  As we drove around the first Italian cities we visited, Milan and Florence, we began to see brides and grooms and wedding parties on the sidewalks on their way to or from a wedding.

We visited two churches, the Basicalla of St. Nicholas, and the Santuario di Santa Rosalia on Monte Pellegrino in Palermo, where we had to hurry with our prayer time because a wedding was about to take place.  As we prayed we watched people bring in white flowers, ribbons, candles and roll out red carpets for the brides to walk upon on their way to the alter.  And God spoke to us about preparing Italy, and ourselves, for the Wedding his heart is longing for.  So we prayed and prepared the churches for the weddings about to take place, the immediate ones in those places, and the readiness of the Bride, God’s Church for her wedding to the Lamb of God.

In Venice we sat on some shaded benches overlooking the water and along came a stunning bride and groom with a troop of professional photographers who posed them and took photos.  We watched as tourists followed the troop and captured their own photos of a bride and groom they would never know.  

There’s something about a wedding, fresh hope for a new life filled with love, alongside someone who will know you and be known by you.  Even with the disastrous global divorce rate, and the high rate of infidelity in Italy and around the world, the wedding is an in your face declaration that this union will be different.  This time the vows mean something.  This time the two will become one for always and will make an impact on the world as a couple that neither could have made as individuals.  This time the man and woman will not cave in to their conflicts, but will work through them and become stronger and more glorious in spite and because of their wounds along the way.

Because it’s all about a wedding.  Jesus coming to this world and loving to the point of ultimate sacrifice, to redeem the very ones who called for his death, who heaped upon him the sins he carried – none his own.  But it’s bigger than that.  It’s not only the individual lives that come into the Kingdom.  Jesus longs to sew together the churches, to form his Bride, to adorn her in robes of righteousness, jewels of service to God and one another, to present to himself a Bride without spot or wrinkle.

So the day will come when the Spirit and the Bride say “Come”. 

Come Lord Jesus.

Just How Good our God Really Is!

When the grandchildren come over to play with me, one game we always play is "guess which hand". They sit on the bottom step of my 13 step staircase and I offer them two closed hands, one of which holds a tiny ladybug magnet.  If they guess the right hand and find the ladybug, they get to go up one step.  If they guess the wrong hand, they stay where they are.  The one who gets to the top step first is the winner, and he gets to be the one with the ladybug, while I join the others back on the bottom step.

Sometimes when the kids are over, even when we're not playing the game, I go to them with my hands clenched and say, "guess which hand".  No matter which hand they pick, there is a treat for them, a candy kiss or a tiny toy, for no other reason than I delight to give them a gift and watch them smile.

Father God plays that game, "guess which hand", too.  Not with stuff we need.  Like he doesn't hold our rent money in one hand and give us the chance to guess it, or lose it.  No he freely meets our needs, but more than that, he plays "guess which hand", and both hands are loaded with things we want, not just things we need.  "He opens his hand, and satisfies the desires of every living thing." Ps. 145:16.  Our desires, think of it, those things we long for in our hearts, spoken or unspoken, held out to us in his open hand, just for the delight of seeing our smile.

God is soooo good.

My Calling

Who will paint my portrait,

Sing my song,

Recite my worth,

When I am unable to believe in myself?

Who will see past my harsh demeanor,

Ignore offensive words,

Look deep inside my heart,

And remind me of who God made me to be?

Who, like Ananias, will see as God sees,

Visit the murderer,

Touch the outcast,

And call the terrorist by a new name, “brother”?

“Whom shall I send and who will go for us?

Who will see as I see,

Speak what I say,

And call things that are not as though they were?”

Here am I, Lord.

Send me.

The Lion

The lion roars! People scatter in fear,

Cover their ears and eyes,

Block out of sight and mind

The power and fury of the King.

Look a child approaches the Lion!

Women faint, men despair

As the little daughter

Draws near the King of beasts.

The lion bows his massive head, an invitation.

The child nestles in his flowing mane,

Her cheek laid in trust

Against his velvet face.

The lion roars! The people draw near,

Led by a little child

To the strength and safety

Of the King of Kings.

I Am Loved.

I had a quarrel recently with my best friend – OK, it was my husband, Jimmy.  We do life together, so we had to continue to interact with each other every day even with the unresolved conflict between us. And it wasn’t fun.  It was hard.  I found myself close to tears many times, but did not have the time or opportunity to allow myself a good cry.

I heard God say to me, “Have this mind in you…”, reminding me of the words in Philippians.  All I wanted to do was withdraw myself emotionally from my friend, insulate myself from the pain.  But God was instructing me otherwise.  Ok, God, I’ll try.

And I did try to continue in our relationship in this humble position, but it was hard.

Yesterday we talked out our issue, said our “sorrys”, and got back on the same page again, and suddenly love became effortless again.

Matthew 11:28-38.  “Come to me.  Get away with me and you’ll recover your life.  I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me – watch how I do it.  Learn the unforced rhythms of grace…”

It’s so much easier to serve, to work side by side someone when you know in your heart you are loved.  It’s like being the birthday girl at a party and opening gifts from the ones who love and celebrate me.  No trying, just resting in the obvious adoration of my grandchildren, bringing me hand-made cards and wet kisses. I am loved and glowing with the knowledge of it.

I think that’s why every bride is so beautiful, even if she’s not the prettiest one in a crowd.  You see in her face, her countenance, her movements, the awareness “I am loved! Of all the women in the world, this man picked me to spend his life with.  He chose me!”

God uses the marriage relationship as a picture of the intimacy he desires to have with us.  So he wants me to feel every day like I did the day after my quarrel with my best friend was resolved.  Look in the mirror and see the face of one much loved, and rest in the giddy realization that I, Taffy Spaloss, am loved by the Father, chosen to be his own bride.

So I know and rely on the love God has for me.  1 John 4:16.

The Harp

I am at times an unwilling harp.

Don’t touch my strings!

I know I’m out of tune,

Strings worn, broken or missing,

Singing my song of pain.

Alone.

Then I hear the first few notes of your heart,

Your harp’s plaintive chords,

Touching places in me

I didn’t know were there.

Tears spring up unannounced.

I listen.

The words of your song

Finally penetrate my mind.

I hear my name,

Sung from a heart of love.

Your song written for me.

I weep.

I open my heart,

Offer my harp to you,

The Master tuner, lover.

You tighten, you loosen,

You remove and replace,

And you play.

Is that me? Can it be?

That this harp could make

Such beautiful melody?

Valued, nurtured by love,

This harp sings again.

Our song.

What’s that? Play your harp?

What? You would allow me

To pluck the heartstrings of

Elohim, God Most High?

“My heart is laid bare before you.

Play, Beloved.!”

I am my Beloved’s.  He is mine.

He plays the strings of my heart,

Sings my song,

And invites me

To play his harp over others.

The Melody of Intercession.