“But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven.” Matthew 10:33
DC talk said it best, “What will people think when they hear that I’m a Jesus freak? (It’s the…) What will people do (…freakshow) when they find that it’s true”? Ho ho Ho ho ho-o Ho ho
This morning I am readying myself to see my surgeon, and yes I am very emotionally/physically drained. I cried upon waking which is not my norm. I was quickly reminded of the gift of the breath of life I have. I was reminded how much worse it could be. I was reminded how His mercies are new EVERYmorning. I was reminded that “this too shall pass”. I may have to do this often throughout my day, recognize how great a God I serve. I may be on repeat of hoe He is holding the pen, if I allow Him. How He is in charge, and when I try to take over things just go awry. My heart has the desire for His compass. I know His compass always has my best at heart! It’s art really! Beautiful majestic art! Letting go, and letting Jesus my author my savior hold the pen!
He leads me to “still waters”, he leads me, and I follow. For there all the noise, and chaos in my day is made tranquil. I can then have a heart open to emerse myself in you. For my prayer is that I can be still, and always know that you are God. In the hustle, and bustle of my days it is easy to get raptured by schedules. Schedules where you have not been penciled in.
How easy for you Lord God to be pushed aside in the rush. It takes but a moment to give you my day, and to make your will my want. Hushed! To remember that you gave me the breath of life that I may have yet another day to be drawn to to you. Lord let there be “still waters” in each day so I can take this time to be in awe in Praise of you. For you are my hope, and my strength. Lead me, and I will follow. Hushed in my heart, and quieted in spirit.
I was stubborn in my own free will. You Lord saying yeild. Running from my helpers hand. He will make me strong in my stance. Giving me another chance. No more doing the same ol’ dance. Surrender
I was stubborn in my own free will, with my hand in His face, “ah Lord come on I so got this.” He was ready to dismantle my world. This one, she may take dynamite to wake her from her sleeping state. Sedated no more. Resonate
Shriveled ruins, my soul lay fractured. Defeated with alcoholic sin. All He wanted was me the prisoner held captive by my own riddled heart. Give up, give in. Stop fighting with Him who just wants to take hold upon your heart, and make you whole. Complete
Disegration at what cost, for my souls loss? Stop running in, and of yourself. The world has nothing worthy especially at the price I was paying. Acceptance
A wandering heart with such strong will. I no longer had to have the desperation of a dying woman. A watchful eye, a comforting hand, a love to take cover in. Grip His hand in mine, plug your ears. This will not hurt, He will detonate the bomb that will blow that cell door right off. Stand back, there may be a few fragments for the cleanup. That will be a breeze, just hand all the broken pieces to Him. He will put you back together again. Resurrection
All the rubble left to barefeet for it is no trouble, no matter how tiny the shards. He will protect you from slivers fester. For now he takes charge. He is the reason. This was in purpose for no more in watch of your wither. Now you will stand upon the crumbled ground. Rebuild with Him as your foundation. More beautiful its creation than ever before. Taller, stronger, unable to penetrate. A full armor of Him, given in wardrobe. Sandals for your feet. Clothed, sheltered, and heart fortified. HIS
Oh, its madness to choose any other road; it is stark madness to think you will get adequate help anywhere in the universe apart from this divine Savior and Lord. ~George W. Truett
Isaiah 9:6 For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Legendary is my Lord, and savior. The Bible is translated in all languages. There are more copies of Bibles than any other book in the world. Jesus is legendary.
As I look up at my Nativity scene, and think of the Virgin Mary holding baby Jesus, it is such a beautiful sight. To only be able to have been there. I can’t imagine the anticipation the wisemen felt following the star to Bethlehem carrying gifts from afar, in greet of baby Jesus.
From Genesis to Revelation we get to read all of the stories of a man who brings salvation, and hope to the lost. Who does miracles in the lives of many, and who hears our prayers. Legendary in every way.
I will stay close to the legend, as I know this is where I find my peace. I can be still, and know that He is God. I can call upon in Him in my quiet times of prayer. He is always there. Here on earth we fail as humans, we let others down. We will never meet all of another’s expectations nor will they meet ours. There is one who all power, and that one is God! He has all authority, and He will never fail us! We just have to have faith. Even as small as a mustard seed, if that is all we can muster for now. It is enough, see where that takes us. Jesus changes lives! He has mine!
My chains are broke I have been set free, you were tethered there on Calvary I owed a debt I could not pay, you paid the debt. You died for me, bound by your blood. The worlds sin you wore
Fastened life so that I could know, your love for me is much greater than any I could ever know
Had to drink from that bitter cup. Your hands and feet struck with nails bind. Crown of thorns pushed into you head, whips and lashings. Leashed for me, streamed blood
Secured the salvation of all who believe with the blood soaked cross you bore. Until your head could no longer hang your last words said “it is finished”
Your ties were cut. You lifeless blood drained body placed in the tomb. Mary grieved her son. Tears were shed, you were dead. All this upon a cross for the lost
This is not the end of the story. Proof of life, and stamp of love. You rose again, restrained no more. Mercy reigns forever, love walks. Walks on water, and all the earth. The good news spreads, “He is Risen”
Tomb was rolled away, and your gospel shared without fetter. Disciples of you in sandals trekked eager to speak of amazing grace, and endless love, chilling I get goose bumps thinking of your unconditional love
I was plucked from the decomposing garden that was my life, it was all over grown a wretched perception. It needed pruned, and somehow from ruins and decomposition God heard my cries, banshees moan
The gate was rusty, and the weeds so many they intertwined toppling me with every step. Scathed from the thicket. My body bruised, battered, and scorned. The gate began to screech open. Jesus was my ticket out
I had been prisoner of this unkempt land for years. It was all I knew. I just assumed it was my lot for life. I even chose my burial spot within. I lived within the decay, and rot. My memory forgot of any other way of life
Just upon the gardens gate was life. It was colorful, delightful, and free. I was scared I did not belong there. As my hue was lacking for any color. A corpse walking among the dead. I was unkempt, and a dreadful sight
Yet the garden gate remained open calling me into the light. Wanting me to get out of the tall grasses that held me captive blocking my view. Poison Ivy was taking over, it was now or never. My endeavor was to make it through the gate. Even if I crawled, focusing on the tree of life. It sat just on the other side. It was giving me strength to leave
Scared to death. I wriggled my body through the posiness plants. My flesh wanted badly to stay. I knew no other way to live. The dark was what my eyes had become accustomed too. The light was blinding
There He was taller than the grass surrounding me (Jesus). He came through with wrath, and a gardeners hoe. He illumated the garden. Snakes slithered and hid. Toxic plants began to wither. As I kept inching toward He was clearing my path. It was my Lord and Savior. He came for me
My cries were heard, and understood. He translated every sob. He then picked me up from the dirt filled floor, and carried me the rest of the way through the gate. Sat me in front of the tree, and shut the door tight. He then sealed it for no entry. I was plucked from the decomposing garden that was my life. Sat underneath the tree of life, grace dripped like sap into my lap. Napped there for sleep so needed was real
Upon waking I looked up, and He gently kneeled wiping the tears from my eyes. My vision was clear. Just then a deer was a passer by panting for the water close. So my soul too, longed for that same water, and I could cup into my hands as much as I wanted to. In an instant I was made clean, I gave all my shame to Him. He cleansed me from within.
I was filled with color, and was motioned to go drink from the living water until I got my fill. This was my life being created brand new. For He rescued me, heeded my pleas. He had the keys to unlock my imprisonment. Unkempt I did not stay, free to be in Jesus I was plucked from the decomposing garden that was my life
Then I was a walking sinfilled creature. No nurture needed I got this. See right here, as I grip tightly and blanket my beer
Then I was even known for sassy, Crass with each glass
Yes saucy too, when I would get sauced I was shameless in that bottle, no throttle
Then I was vulgar I can only imagine the things that came out of my mouth were nothing to boast about, toasted was not a good look on me
Then I was loud, and sure fire shifting moods with each drink of my freshly yearn, wanted so badly to fill the burn
Then I was immodest as all my inhibition got tossed away, my mirror image nothing of the same. My flesh stared back at me, I was of the world. Swirling in drunken misdemeanor behavior
Then! Take notice of (then past tense). These are all past tense as my heart has been reconstructed upon the cross, all my sin was lost. Taken, and healed when I kneeled for forgiveness
I exchanged sassy for love, joy, and peace which came from God above. These attributes walk with me daily
Saucy was so long. Forbearance, kindness, and goodness set in. From my next of kin to a complete stranger. Rendering a gentle demeanor
Faithfulness, and gentleness left vulgar on the roadside hitching another ride. For my faith is strong, and mouth washed clean
Self controlled the one the Lord said hello if you grab onto this, all the others will line up. Immodest you can not be. For there is beauty in modesty
All these are the 9 fruits of the spirit. The greatest of attributes according to the Apostle Paul. Oh how beauty is adorned with each one. I did not stall in applying them all
Holy Spirit fall fresh on me, make my eyes and heart heed to all of these. For brassy is not something I ever again wish to take title to. I bid you adieu with His grace and mercy. A sure fire way to stay one with him
If need be I will take compartment in the Produce Department. Taking up pleasure in all the delectable fruits. Each one bursting in flavor, until I too can mimic all 9 fruits of the spirit. Bursting from within…
Brassy is not classy in the eyes of the Lord!
Galations 5:22:23-22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness and self-control. Against suchthings there is no law.
I am just going to say the closer I get to Jesus, and the more I read my Bible the more it piques my heart and soul to know Him more! I am madly in love with the Lord! He changed my life for the good!
I can’t wait until one day I get to see His face, and He shall say “well done good and faithful servant”. This is what I strive for each, and every day. I have to keep on keeping on in Him.
Simple, and sweet! Blessing in Him for a rad week WP friends.
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing. 2 Timothy 4:7-8
This is no fairy tale or tall tale. I see you Lord crisp as the morning air. Your presence every where
My vision is not skewed. Ears are not muffed, I look around how magestic is your name in all the earth. How pleasing to the ear the echoes of your words in my heart
You did not pull a bunny from a hat, or a coin from out of no where. Apocryphal the mystical creatures we read of in other books of old. No truth to be told in those. All make believe. Something up someone’s sleeve. You created the heavens and the earth, all its features
I am not delustional in all the miracles retold, just as your blood shed for the saving of us is no illusion
I am firmly planted in the soil that you planted me in. What I hear, and what I see is what you ask of me. I read of truth, hope, and victory. I read of stories of strife, madness, and deep sadness
No fairy tales, real life miracles. A butterfly as a marker of your creation, but no tinker bell sprinkling fairy dust
Just open the word and begin in Genesis creations story unfolds. For you Lord are greater than any of fables creatures. No tall tales here, go hide under the bed if you don’t want fed to The Bridge to Teribithia
Ancient stories that bring God glory. There are giants, devils, and kings, in the Bible, all the makers of the top selling fables. The difference being these stories are real. Not fictitious. Get out the Bible take a look, go on read it. On your knees you may find yourself grovel. Especially if you were ever one to call it a fairy tale or fable. Fictional it is not, may your heart be open to every word written. Enveloped in the stories of old, retold. It is the way, the truth, and life. In it may you delight
I have been down roads shard with glass, with no shoes or socks. My bare feet sliced, and slit to bits. Bleeding in pools of blood I smeared. Slippery. Nothing I could do to get around them. Like a thorn in my foot, festered and diseased. Still wasn’t enough to bring me to my knees
I have been down roads with molten lava spilling its venom fast with fiery. Eating away my skin, bone exposed. Stubborn was my walk, rot with balm of waste garbage. Still not enough to bring me to my knees
I have been down roads so desolate, and dark. I could not see anything. It was as black as black could be. My depth perception was left behind. No hindsight is 20/20 then for me. I was blind to the road I trekked. Still not enough to bring me to my knees
I have been down roads with the roughest terrain. Lost, my compass broken. No skip in my step. No bounce left. My shoes, had set place in the most ill place. I could not see up from down, my life was spun inside out
I had been down every road at this point, running from God with shame as my sprint. I was out of breath, and so bent. Tears were bleeding my soul dry. It was time to fall to my knees, plea. The soil beneath toxic with weeds, wanting to crawl to my neck in strangulation to my death. Coffin open waiting for me
It was on my knees that God cleared the ground underneath, gave me a few breaths of reprieve. He lit the area around my body, and I was able to see. I knew it was time to give in. I tossed him my running shoes. He gently lifted my chin, and wiped away my tears. He lifted all the years I allowed the locusts to eat away. He wiped the dirt from my face, and gave me a drink from His canteen. Freshest water succumbed my soul. Seeped deep my lifeless body. Whole
It was on my knees God restored my sanity. He broke my chains, and shackles were cut. He gave me the gift of new life. My slate of compass crazed ways was wiped clean. Resorted back to health. Feeble no longer. In His eyes He had already forgot I had been on the run. It was done
Job 4:4 Your words have upheld him who was stumbling, and you have made firm the feeble knees.