I'm not stuck.

Sometimes I need a lily to remind me.

"I believe and know that God prepared a great path for you. Extremely hard, but wonderful! Amidst all hurt and hardships search for Him and He will deliver! Cause this is the way He refines our heart as gold. High quality gold is like a mirror, when the craftsman who melted it looked at it, he saw his reflection in it. This is how he knew that this was gold of the highest quality. The same thing with our hearts – they should reflect our Craftsman only." 

Спасибо, Лилия

In every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.

(So it's still a little red and puffy and the color hasn't faded to brown yet, but I just couldn't wait any longer to post a picture!)

"So when God desired to show more convincingly to the heirs of the promise the {unchangeable character} of his purpose, he guaranteed it with an oath, so that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have STRONG encouragement to *hold fast* to the hope set before us. We (have) this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters>> into the (inner place) behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek." ~Hebrews 6:17-20

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander...

You call me out upon the waters

The great unknown where feet may fail

And there I find You in the mystery

In oceans deep

My faith will stand

I will call upon Your name

And keep my eyes above the waves

When oceans rise my soul will rest in Your embrace

For I am Yours and You are mine

Your grace abounds in deepest waters

Your sovereign hand

Will be my guide

Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me

You've never failed and You won't start now

So I will call upon Your name

And keep my eyes above the waves

When oceans rise

My soul will rest in Your embrace

For I am Yours and You are mine

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders

Let me walk upon the waters

Wherever You would call me

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

And my faith will be made stronger

In the presence of my Savior

I will call upon Your Name

Keep my eyes above the waves

My soul will rest in Your embrace

I am Yours and You are mine

I want the Lord to rampage my life, bursting through me though it breaks me into a million tender pieces.  More of me can be engulfed by Him if I'm in shards rather than one piece.  I no longer want to cling to my carefully built and heavily guarded self image- cool, collected, clean, presentable, strong.  I want to be wrecked, alive, gushing and vulnerable and messy and broken so that God's power and love may move unhindered by my pride and fear.  I'm so tired of clinging to fear and pride, but I don't know how to let go.  I can profess abandonment, I can act out abandonment, but I am still not fully abandoned. 

"But now in Christ Jesus you who were once far off have been brought (near) by the blood of Christ."  He has brought me near to Him.  It is too beautiful.  His blood has brought me near.  I don't feel near at all tonight, haven't for a few weeks now, but that doesn't change my nearness to Him.  I can never be far from Him because my nearness entirely relies on His bringing me near.  I know no other lover who would have met me [here] in this place, but He has.  He has.

Truth:  Burn this bone and tissue for I no longer want to be entangled in this sinew that hinders my reach toward You.

Deeper Truth:  “I tell you this, brothers: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

“Death is swallowed up in victory.”

“O death, where is your victory?

  O death, where is your sting?”

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Therefore, my beloved brothers, be [steadfast], immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.” 1 Cor. 15:50-58

salty heartspeak.

I need the sea.  It's a necessity in my life I cannot express deeply enough.  My soul exhales.  It's as if I didn't realize I was holding my breath for months and then suddenly I start breathing again.  I start functioning like a living being again.  I see things again, feel, taste... and the Lord IS good.  He's always good.  I know this deeper than circumstances, but it's a hopeful kind of knowing.  On/in/near the ocean, I actually taste and see kind of know that the Lord is good.  "It's Your love that we adore; it's like a sea without a shore..." Those words wrecked me two years and a month ago.  It clicked.  God loves me vastly, endlessly, as impossibly as comprehending the fullness of the ocean.  He has anchored me.  In every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil- it truly does.  What can separate me from the love of Christ?  NOTHING.  Such beauty and majesty in this defiled world gives me a glimpse of beauty as He intended it, a glimpse of Him.  The sea tunes my perspective.  The ocean, a created thing in a sin marred world, is too wonderful for me, how much more so the holy Creator of the sea?  Every crashing wave thrills me to the point of bursting, exudes a new revelation- "Holy! Holy! Holy!" like a scene straight out of Rev. 4.

Life is beautiful. and I am so thankful for this tatts.littles.storytelling.keylime.free-coconut-coffee.quenched-sea-fever.comradeship day!

In first person

About this time two years ago, I changed this blog's name.  Well, time for another name change.  Why?

 

Practically: I now write for 4 blogs, so it's time to redefine each one, rewrite the thesis, so to speak.

Personally: This blog is now off public domain.  It's just me (hence the name), my thoughts and point of view.  A place where I can spill out the thoughts that bubble over (and IDEALLY, a place where I post new poems!).

Literally: This will now be a place for Comrade and the Witty Rat to get into my crazy head.  If anyone else enjoys reading these posts, then I'm honored!  But this blog is no longer about creating a following or sticking to a particular topic.  

If you'd like to read about ways God is restoring broken lives in Ukraine, please follow Restore Ukraine.

If you'd like to read about ways God is restoring broken lives on OBT, please follow Freedom Fridays.

If you want to learn more about human trafficking and ways you can join the movement to end it, please follow Northland's Freedom Blog

*Just to clarify, these are blogs I personally write for.  If you're looking for more blogs about Jesus, restoration, Ukraine, or human trafficking, there are TONS of phenomenal blogs out there!  

If you blog, I'd love to follow you, too!  Comment with a link to your blog.

Let's read, think, dream, write, process, and communicate together!

The Giver's daughter

  

 "I gave her happy memories: a ride on a merry-go-round; a kitten to play with; a picnic.  Sometimes I chose one just because I knew it would make her laugh, and I so treasured the sound of her laughter in this room that had always been so silent.  But she was like you, Jonas.  She wanted to experience everything.  She knew that it was her responsibility.  And so she asked me for more difficult memories."

   "You didn't give her war, did you?  Not just after five weeks?"

   The Giver shook his head and sighed.  "No.  And I didn't give her physical pain.  But I gave her loneliness.  And I gave her loss.  I transferred a memory of a child taken from its parents.  That was the first one.  She was stunned... I backed off, gave her more little delights.  But everything changed, once she knew about pain.  I could see it in her eyes."

When I wonder if I'm slipping, I feel like the Giver's daughter... I've spent my whole life receiving only pleasant memories, but now, the Giver must give me the painful memories... and I don't know if I will hold up and gain wisdom or crumble and request to be Released.

On a totally different note, the Giver clearly didn't know a thing about the female gender.  We are well acquainted with physical pain, thank you very much.  But loneliness and loss?  No wonder the poor child went insane; war would have been far more gentle.

Broken, and loving every shard

I promised to submit poems to Rollins' Brushing Magazine tonight, AND I promised to write a post for Northland's Freedom Blog tonight, but there's something I have to write for myself, first.  I don't want to forget this moment.  Today started with me blacking out in my kitchen (literally) and then discovering Sabra Girl was today's theme, BUT the Lord had immeasurably more planned!  On my break at work, words finally came and spilled out on the nearest scrap of paper...

      It's the crushed flower that produces fragrance, not the dried one.  I've lived my whole life afraid of being broken, being weak.  I admit, today broke me.  But now that I'm broken, I have nothing to lose!  I'm free.  Free to love, free to live and fail and hurt and be healed.  Part of me wants to say giving [this] up doesn't affect me a bit ("No prob. [insert shrug] take it.").  And, as silly, irrational, and weak as it is, the truth is giving up [this] small little thing has shattered me.  I thought I was a strong, immovable stone, but only because I sat in a stale room.  Once someone opened the door, the air stirred and I realized I'm just a pile of dust, not strong but tossed by the slightest movement. SO what? I'm only dust.  I'm reconciled to that now, and God makes beautiful things out of dust.  He has rattled these dry bones and replaced my stone heart with flesh!  I was dead, but now I live!  What can man do to me?  What else can compare to the hot breath of Christ burning in my lungs?  All else is death and shadow.  He alone gives life!

So I'm letting it go, but letting it go means I first have to confess grasping it.  Yes, I feel, I desire, I hurt and bleed and need, but I'd rather hurt and heal rather than never feel at all.  So I'm confessing being human, being vulnerable, but oh, the sweetness of brokenness when it is brought before Christ! Today's theme is actually Broken by Lifehouse.  "In the pain there is healing.  In Your name I find meaning."
I will live, and live abundantly.
Hallelujah.