It is on days like today
where the enemy is tromping my brain with you can't!
It is on days like today
where I have to walk away and simply breathe.
It is on days like today
where I realize you are not the enemy.
It is on days like today
where all I can do is cry out to the Father.
It is on days like today
when I don't understand.
It is on days like today
when simply oh so simply cling.
It is on days like today
when
I am overwhelmed.
I am scared.
I am wanting to scream.
I am confused.
I am trying.
I am praying.
And He whispers
I am.
Monday, July 28, 2014
Friday, July 25, 2014
Suitcases, Baggage and a Bird
We have started gathering things for our next trip in January 2015. It seems to be far off. I thought that I would never have to worry about packing. But I do. I worry about the quality of the items that we are taking down. I worry about the weight. I worry about is it enough.
When we pack for the short term my family packs our essentials in the carry on bag then leave various items behind on purpose.
Eventually we will be packing for the long haul. A relocation. An uprooting. My husband thinks about items that we can down now and leave at the property until we come home. I let him ponder the issue. My only stake is this. If we bring our *stuff* down now won't it take away from what we can give now? He will conceed and we will pack the items needed for the village.
How do I even begin to pack for my bonus son? He has his classic nintendos and playstations. With his aspergerest tendencies I know that when we relocate that will be his balm and transition.
So I pray for preparation and wisdom for our short term trips and the eventual relocation.
With this prayer comes the emotional baggage. This is the hardest part to write about. How can I as a shattered woman with a colorful past come face to face with a dream, a calling much bigger than I could ever envision. How could God take my brokeness and use it for whatever it is I am supposed to do there. I tell some of my close friends that I am not a missionary but we are retiring to Nica. That is easier to handle. How can God use me. I have been divorced. I have been the woman at the well. I have lost everything and in turn gained Jesus. I am not shiny. I am not...
And in the midst of the P word (preparation) He has me in therapy. Deep, intense and dare I say freeing? Individual and couple therapy :)...Thanks God
On our short term trip a month ago I wore sleeveless shirts. There are tattoos covering my upper body. In another culture especially Nica it is considered Malo. BAD. I had kept them covered up in the past like most of my life. Covered, Hidden, and Unspoken.
On my left upper arm there are three birds lifting a young girl to safety from the storm clouds below. It is personal testimony of how God rescued me as a child..
I was exposed...baggage...broken...turned to art work...turned to a gift.
During the trip we were visiting families in the village. We intentionally went to one home to talk and share news. While there the woman shyly shared the baby bird she was raising by hand. I am stopped short. In the immense poverty of barely being able to eat she is caring for another creature...and in that realization I saw that God again was whispering my name. In haste I pointed to my birds in tears and she wanted to give me the baby bird as a gift...
I couldn't take the bird with me but she is going to continue raising it until we come home. She kissed both of my cheeks wiped my tears and we hugged.
Packing, unpacking. Baggage and a bird.
And honestly I wouldn't have it any other way...
http://velvetashes.com/the-grove-pack/
When we pack for the short term my family packs our essentials in the carry on bag then leave various items behind on purpose.
Eventually we will be packing for the long haul. A relocation. An uprooting. My husband thinks about items that we can down now and leave at the property until we come home. I let him ponder the issue. My only stake is this. If we bring our *stuff* down now won't it take away from what we can give now? He will conceed and we will pack the items needed for the village.
How do I even begin to pack for my bonus son? He has his classic nintendos and playstations. With his aspergerest tendencies I know that when we relocate that will be his balm and transition.
So I pray for preparation and wisdom for our short term trips and the eventual relocation.
With this prayer comes the emotional baggage. This is the hardest part to write about. How can I as a shattered woman with a colorful past come face to face with a dream, a calling much bigger than I could ever envision. How could God take my brokeness and use it for whatever it is I am supposed to do there. I tell some of my close friends that I am not a missionary but we are retiring to Nica. That is easier to handle. How can God use me. I have been divorced. I have been the woman at the well. I have lost everything and in turn gained Jesus. I am not shiny. I am not...
And in the midst of the P word (preparation) He has me in therapy. Deep, intense and dare I say freeing? Individual and couple therapy :)...Thanks God
On our short term trip a month ago I wore sleeveless shirts. There are tattoos covering my upper body. In another culture especially Nica it is considered Malo. BAD. I had kept them covered up in the past like most of my life. Covered, Hidden, and Unspoken.
On my left upper arm there are three birds lifting a young girl to safety from the storm clouds below. It is personal testimony of how God rescued me as a child..
I was exposed...baggage...broken...turned to art work...turned to a gift.
During the trip we were visiting families in the village. We intentionally went to one home to talk and share news. While there the woman shyly shared the baby bird she was raising by hand. I am stopped short. In the immense poverty of barely being able to eat she is caring for another creature...and in that realization I saw that God again was whispering my name. In haste I pointed to my birds in tears and she wanted to give me the baby bird as a gift...
I couldn't take the bird with me but she is going to continue raising it until we come home. She kissed both of my cheeks wiped my tears and we hugged.
Packing, unpacking. Baggage and a bird.
And honestly I wouldn't have it any other way...
http://velvetashes.com/the-grove-pack/
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Silence in the Journey
Since Easter of this year I have been silent. The nagging to get back to writing has been immense but I honestly thought I had nothing to offer. I had hit a wall hard. I was questioning God hard. I really did not like Him.
My faith had been coming back in waves. I thought that my faith was big. God was doing a, b, c, in my life. But I found myself afraid in the midst of the giant faith. I found myself bargaining with God. And really I am embarrassed by it. My faith had become superstitious and dependent on the fact that God would do this if this came out a certain way. And I mean I was wrapped up in this obsession in daily mundane tasks. I thought God and I were great! I had Jesus in my back pocket. He approved of me because I was good. I was reading the Bible, I was praying, I was healing...doing the Christian thing...despite my panic...
Then an outside word entered my prayer life. The P word. Preparation. I started daily praying for the team going down to Nicaragua in June of this year. I started asking God to prepare me...us (my husband and I) for the trip. I had God in my back pocket. My assumptions were good, the nagging terror always there.
It happened. The preparation prayer revealed areas in my life that shook my foundation of faith. At one point I wailed to my friend...I have nowhere else to go but God. How could He take my superstitious faith and remove it for nothing. Not even a mustard seed iota of belief. And the funny thing is in the midst of nothing there was something.
I sat still.
I was silent.
I let myself grieve before God.
I was angry.
I was questioning.
I was just being.
I did not want to go to Nicaragua. How could I when I was a mess. I had to be perfect. My rabbit's foot faith was blown to smithereens. I had nothing to hold on to.
That is how I entered my homeland on June 14, 2014. For 7 days.
The P word that I prayed. Preparation.
Those 7 days there...in Poneloya, Nicaragua became wonder filled, rich days where I lived 5 years in one day..
I was greeted with a migraine the first full morning there. I did no bargaining with God. I did not look for signs. I simply asked Him to help me cope and move on with the day. The migraine was eased by my meds. And I moved on.
Was the trip hard? Yes. Was it easy? Yes. Was I prepared? Yes. Am I still preparing yes. Was I unprepared most definitely yes. But in the midst of my brokeness and unbelief...I was ok. I was listening...God and
Nicaragua is still calling...
http://velvetashes.com/the-grove-prepare/
My faith had been coming back in waves. I thought that my faith was big. God was doing a, b, c, in my life. But I found myself afraid in the midst of the giant faith. I found myself bargaining with God. And really I am embarrassed by it. My faith had become superstitious and dependent on the fact that God would do this if this came out a certain way. And I mean I was wrapped up in this obsession in daily mundane tasks. I thought God and I were great! I had Jesus in my back pocket. He approved of me because I was good. I was reading the Bible, I was praying, I was healing...doing the Christian thing...despite my panic...
Then an outside word entered my prayer life. The P word. Preparation. I started daily praying for the team going down to Nicaragua in June of this year. I started asking God to prepare me...us (my husband and I) for the trip. I had God in my back pocket. My assumptions were good, the nagging terror always there.
It happened. The preparation prayer revealed areas in my life that shook my foundation of faith. At one point I wailed to my friend...I have nowhere else to go but God. How could He take my superstitious faith and remove it for nothing. Not even a mustard seed iota of belief. And the funny thing is in the midst of nothing there was something.
I sat still.
I was silent.
I let myself grieve before God.
I was angry.
I was questioning.
I was just being.
I did not want to go to Nicaragua. How could I when I was a mess. I had to be perfect. My rabbit's foot faith was blown to smithereens. I had nothing to hold on to.
That is how I entered my homeland on June 14, 2014. For 7 days.
The P word that I prayed. Preparation.
Those 7 days there...in Poneloya, Nicaragua became wonder filled, rich days where I lived 5 years in one day..
I was greeted with a migraine the first full morning there. I did no bargaining with God. I did not look for signs. I simply asked Him to help me cope and move on with the day. The migraine was eased by my meds. And I moved on.
Was the trip hard? Yes. Was it easy? Yes. Was I prepared? Yes. Am I still preparing yes. Was I unprepared most definitely yes. But in the midst of my brokeness and unbelief...I was ok. I was listening...God and
Nicaragua is still calling...
http://velvetashes.com/the-grove-prepare/
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