I burned that bridge

And so my God, I bring to you--my Isaac.

It's hard to let go of things we don't need. I even have trouble cleaning out my closet. I find myself thinking I'll eventually come back for those clothes, or that one day I really will get around to fixing them. However, I know I never will. They'll sit in the back of my closet, or bottom of my drawers--taking of valuable space. I could theoretically make room for new things, or things I originally planned to put away. Im a clutter bug. I admit it, my room is cluttered, my heart is cluttered.

A simple evaluation of myself will quickly bring to light all the junk I've held on to. Thing's I intended to fix but never did, things I haven't picked up in years, people I put in the back of the "closet." I've neglected my heart. Shame on me. I've held on to so much from the past three years. Now anyone to tries to get remotely close will appear to have the upper hand. They'll quickly be removed or pushed aside to no fault of their own. Of course I have to be a drama queen about everything and refuse to let the walls fall. So, I have formally decided and even announced to myself that I am letting "Isaac" go. 

I feel as though I have trekked up Everest. My legs are sore, knees bruised, and hands cut up from the climb. I'd love to sit here and tell you that I have the greatest revelation on life and its matters, frivolous and serious. I'd love to tell you that the past year has been all peaches and cream. And while 2010 was much better than previous years, I cant help but think to myself that it could have been so much better had I let go of EVERYTHING.

So I'm here on this mountain, feeling like I've faced this giant a million times before--but I'm finally building an altar. Right here where my pain is--Im building it high so the devil can see it from hell. I'm giving up my Isaac--Im giving up my heart. 

Proof in the putting

It IS Him.

Only one thing has been repeating itself over and over in my head. It’s been my strength and my song in the toughest times, it’s been my cry and brought peace beyond my understanding. It is the simplest fact, but holds unseen amounts of power. Its truth holds steady affirmations and has proven valid and righteous time and again. It has given me hope and courage to move forward in my walk and in my ministry. Because of this—I have been set free, I have been delivered, rescued, healed, loved, embraced, strengthened, and encouraged.  If there is one thing you take with you on your journey remember this—Only God is God. 

It takes a huge load off to know that we ourselves have nothing to offer, nothing to give, nothing to say, except that God is God. Once this has become embedded in you it seems almost impossible to be taken hold of. It becomes harder to lose yourself in worldy delights, it becomes harder to slip into depression, it becomes harder to not rejoice in the mere fact that I was able to open my eyes this morning. Take comfort in this, find peace and rest in the promise of God to never leave you. Above all, let His praises never leave your lips. Bless him with your song, with your words, with your service. You have seen the power of God, you’ve felt His wind. You’ve written His heart. I encourage you to now write His legacy. Carry Him with you, and leave small traces of Him everywhere you go. Continue in worship and praise because of the simple fact that HE IS GOD. You may encounter disaster, you may be put to the ultimate test—but please, I beg of you….from one worshiper to another…don’t lose your zeal for his praises. Don’t stop adoring Him for what He’s done and will do…and remember Only God is God. Now go--change the world.

Ode to a Patient God

"And don't you go insane? All six thousand years of us treating you this way. All this time. Does it make you tired? I can't believe you waited for me...like it was worth your while."

My Darling, My Christ. Patient beyond expressible words. And yet He waits for me. I don't know about you but I have a hard time wrapping my head around this uninhibited, unconditional love that He gives. He sits and watches as we get into our cars and hurry to our respective destinations. He gazes as we sip our coffee and read our emails. Oh the longing, oh the suffering He's endured. And we go through our day as if He never did a thing for us. How many days have I woken up and forgotten to say thank you. How many hours go by before I even notice Him peering over my shoulder, wondering how much longer I'll busy myself with nonsense. Here we are claiming to have more than religion. Claiming that our lives are ruled by a relationship and not routine. But here we are forgetting our significant other. Our Saviour. Our King. And there He sits--ever so patient. Ever so loving and merciful. His longing is immeasurable. We go a day without seeing or talking to our boyfriends and girlfriends and we feel like we lack fulfillment for that day. But we go days/weeks/months/years with no remorse...no regret. Because He'll still be there.

I'd hate to think of the amount of times I have crucified and recrucified Him. I cant bare the thought of being a part of the murder of my Love. My heart. It is with deep anguish that I write this. Because I am the first to say that I am guilty. But next time.... Next time He calls I'm gonna sing for Him. Next time He calls Im going to apologize and cry. Next time Im going to dance for Him, play for Him, run a mile for Him. Next time Im going to give it all.

 My heart hurts. It burns and aches with anguish at how long I myself have played the harlot. At how long we have pushed Him aside. At how long He waits. I can just imagine having scheduled a date. He shows up on time, dressed in His best. Beautiful as ever. And here I come...20 minutes...40 minutes...years late. He calls and calls, wondering where I am or how much longer Im going to be. And I don't even have the sense to prepare myself. I come to Him in my junk and in my rags. Filthy and unshowered. And He will lovingly gaze into my eyes and still tell me that I am His treasure. Even with all my mess. And to this day, I can't believe He waited for me. 

Battlefield

This barren land....

Desolate and wasted. How I long for the day of revival.

It seems so far way, revival, seems almost intangible. I can't even see it in the distance. Maybe cause its not something we should be able to foretell? Who knows but God. He's the only forecaster of such relevant glory.

I'm grieved whenever I walk out onto the wasteland. My eyes catching glimpses of bones and dirt--bones and dirt. But here in my own little wastelandic podunk of a community I seem to have forgotten my travail. I've forgotten the sway and cry of my rain dance. I almost forgot that this land too is barren. I no longer cried out for the rainfall amidst a season of drought. I left the tears to someone else, but it seems....no one else is crying. No one else is weeping, the sackcloth still hangs and no one has taken claim. Will I be held accountable for my lack of fire? Why haven't I spread to make the ground fertile again? I so desperately wanted to be the tree that flourishes in the middle of the desert, but I had forgotten that I need to have roots before my branches can grow. The valley is filled with dry bones awaiting their word of life. And yet my mouth has been sealed, and I have forgotten to cry. If my tears are the only way this land will be watered, then let it be. If the sweat of my brow is the only way this land will be tilled, then let it be. If my feet are dry and cracked from walking a mile in the shoes of those in need, then let be. And if my knees are bruised and bleeding from too much kneeling and too much travail--LET IT BE. 

Revival--LET IT BE!!