Love will grow over barriers and around obstacles still blooming and still fragrant. Love is having the strength to stay. Love is a wild and furious risk, a pouring out of all that one can from that cup and drink it. Love is rich and poor. Love is sickness and health. Love is a verb, an action word. Nothing about love is passive. Love cannot be manipulated. Love. Risks. Everything. The Holy God is Love’s name…ponder this, ponder Him on this busy Tuesday of your life. Love changes everything!
Today God orchestrated some happenings that I needed. It was an affirming whisper from him…
Such an intimate and sweet “I love you” from my Lord. I say intimate because He and I are the only ones who know. I say sweet because I am his daughter and he understands me.
So I end this day with a Hallelujah.
Sleep well my friends.
Pages of snap shots in my dreams.
I rise early in the morning a few seconds post dawn. The melted butterscotch sky is streaked with baby blue and left over indigo. A nice squall blew up last night and the sand has no footprints in it. The sand dunes are pregnant with sea oats. The oats, my favorite tropical grass, sway charmingly in the breeze and quietly support the island with their roots. The large oats smell like salt and theirs stalks tall and sleek weave into grass.
Just in a snap spot of my dreams I take off running from shore as the rain begins. I dash and grab my laundry on the clothes line.. At that moment your camera just happened to find my face and you say,” your eyes are blue- gray, like seawater.” I close my eyes. When I open them you are gone.
Shutter stop.
The knockout punch…
I have eaten nothing in three days.
The pain in my chest is a slow agony.
I have no memory of warmth with others of my kind.
Although fading, my longing drives my soul forward.
A primal memory of Joy beats like a captured bird in my brain.
Yet somehow I know Him and see the full Glory of God.
So she called the name of the Lord who spoke to her, “You are a God of seeing,” for she said, “Truly here I have seen him who looks after me. Genesis 16:13
Camellias are blooming stout and ruffled in oh so many rosy shades of pinks!
Azalea bushes lay a thick carpet for Gulf summer heat and rain.
The golden-green sea oats weave and spin the island’s core in an endless ballet.
All the while, the Faithful Morning Glories, pink and yellow, vine along the sand like a hodgepodge of holiday lights.
The salt sits thick upon my skin and hair.
I am baptized in a wave and the horizon melts into carnival colors of pulled taffy in my Watercolor Garden.
atmosphere of ice and refuse.
this pressures me to think of us.
we said we were “all in.”
we talk about the black or white of Life
the Sunsets on Mars are Blue.
When hardship comes your way, will you tell yourself it’s a tool of God’s grace and a sign of his love, or will you give in to doubting his goodness? Paul Tripp
When the road seems shorter than before.
Wherever you turn there is no open door.
Your life is in convulsions like vomit on the floor.
All the paperwork of your life is yellowed and rotted.
Is the God’s grace of love or is it cruel?
Who do you worship and let rule you?
Will you head for the hills of Babylon?
Look for ways to numb your sorrow?
Will you turn to the One who made you?
Will you cry out and hang on to your pew?
Will you doubt God’s goodness in the dross?
Will you walk away or toward the cross?
Blackbird screaming in the top of a tree, the Sun goes passing by.
A full moon shines at the crossing in the road exposing all the lies.
Good girl hiding in the alley in the night, she’s praying no one sees.
Looking for love in the darkness, now alone, it’ll bring you to your knees.
Our children are riding on the wing of a plane, the want to try to die.
Looking for peace from pain in their lives, they’d rather crash then try.
Poor boy in hell at the top of a bridge, he’s praying he can flying.
He’s looking for love in the water down below, it wasn’t in his daddy’s eyes.
Can this bring us around or does history say we lose,?
Does the Cross mean no one goes to Hell or do we have to choose?
Hope for today and tomorrow in not gone, nor does it fall asleep.
Jesus is waiting for us to seek His face and only there will we find peace.
I have long been running toward that Morning light
trying so hard to be the holy one with all my might
Then you whisper in my ear, “Peace, be still.”
I have long been kneeling in that Cathedral in the sand
trying so hard to form my self into a holy jar
Then you whisper in my ear, “I am the Potter.”
I have long been wading in that River of life
desperate to drink the holy water that cleans
Then you whisper in my ear, “I am the water that never ends.”
No I lay me down on the Alter of Holy Rest
Trust my hands to the maker of all that grows
and drink every drop form the River of Life…
oh how Peaceful it is to “be still and know.”
Photo by Rakicevic Nend
I was in your Yesterday.
I used up a lifetime there.
Unworldly hearts beating away,
But then nobody cared.
At least it seemed that way.
I was in your Yesterday.
I believed in fairy tales too.
I thought there was an evermore,
but I left your Yesterday.
