Then you will know that I am the LORD. Those who hope in me will not be disappointed. ~Isaiah 49:23
Last week I had the incredible gift of being in El Salvador with Compassion International (www.compassion.com). How do I describe it in black and white?
Brilliant, life changing, grace-filled, abundant joy…that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
Amazing, huh? But if I’m honest, I was hesitant of going. Because going across the world meant going to a place in my heart I feared. A place a dream was buried. A dream I was afraid to re-awaken for the amount of grief it would cause should it die again. When this dream is surrendered to the Lord, it ruthlessly, tenderly breaks me in a thousand ways. Good ways. But it’s not been surrendered. It’s been locked up and covered with the dust and debris of hurt, mistrust and disappointment.
Disappointment not in the dream. Rather, in the dream Giver. The Giver of all things…life, faith, trust, desire, dreams. I know this is Truth. I really do. But my reality had shifted from this Truth to a lie in which the Giver was the Taunter…dangling the proverbial carrot, always in sight; always out of reach.
He’d been trying to talk with me about this for some time. But you know, home and life are superb sound barriers. I didn’t want to hear about it anymore and retorted, “If this dream isn’t going to come true by yesterday, don’t mention it again.” And as the day to leave for El Salvador drew closer, I quietly, but desperately buried deeper the place my heart dreaded. Disdained. Hated even. I admit I wasn’t fond of who I’d become in this part of my heart. It was ugly. Seriously filthy. But I was so angry/resentful, I held onto it.
The first night in El Salvador we broke off in groups. Our leader Ryan asked each to share how we could be praying for one another throughout the week.
It was then I heard the knock. My bygone dream rapping on the door of it’s cavity in my heart. “Let me out. Talk about me. Be accountable.” And so I did. And I cried. Blah. I didn’t want to, but dead dreams have that effect on me. Plus, I didn't want the trip to be about me. Pride and humility wrestled it out.
And through tears, I told of my love for missions, particularly foreign missions. And the grand temptation to turn my heart off…detach…withdraw, from loving the one in front of me well. Because I was given that dream when I was just a little girl and I carefully tended it for two decades. I was convinced it had been shut down and I had been deceived.
It’s scary to trust again. To open your heart once more. To greet the edge of a dark cliff and risk jumping takes quite a measure of faith. The possibility that maybe {holding breath here} maybe… the dream isn’t really dead, perhaps it’s just on hiatus… hibernating… germinating… cultivating…well, sometimes that feels like too much to bear. Is a twist on the old adage true? “It’s better to have dreamt and lost, than never to have dreamt at all.” I’m beginning to believe so.
Reality and Truth held my hand in El Salvador and gently eased me away from the lies, hurt, mistrust. How? Being with team members who wholly loved. Dared to fellowship with the severe ache of poverty. Embraced the pain and ministered through shared tears. Lingered in the presence of God a little longer. Being with El Salvadorian children who laid their tiny hands on my head in prayer. Radiated joy though they know more pain in their 6 years than I will ever know in 86 years. Proclaimed the goodness of our God with no reserve.
An open heart gives way to open ears. So many threw me a lifeline of life-giving affirming words without even knowing about my dreams. I catch myself still holding my breath at times. I’m still jumping gingerly. But last week a miracle happened that I can’t ignore. A dead dream came back to life; and hope was resurrected. And every day there and since, the Holy Spirit has gently tapped me on the shoulder and now I’m listening. He reminds me that yes, indeed, He is the Giver of all things. Life, faith, trust, desires, dreams. And Truth. For this I am grateful.
~Does this resonate with you too? I'd love to dialogue.
I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. ~Ezekiel 36
May 12, 2010
May 10, 2010
Nixon
This morning I thought about the Good Samaritan. Do you know what I respect about that guy? He faded into the background. He didn’t hang around for kudos or praise. Taking care of the needs of the man was more important. And that’s what the amazing team at Compassion International does. It’s not about them. It’s about releasing children from poverty in Jesus’ Name. I stole that line from them. But it’s right and true. I saw the testimony of it. I held the hands of it. I walked the streets of it. I felt the weight and love of it.
A group of us spent last week in El Salvador. I promise I won’t write and post pics like one of those infomercials. You know the ones I’m talking about. My friend Brian spoke of ‘gratuitous poverty’ and that phrase stuck with me. I’m not here to barter one child’s story for your guilt. Instead, I want to share so maybe, just maybe, through a glimpse of a life, together we’ll trust the magnitude our choices can make in one life, one family, one community, one generation, one country.
Because one life surely changed mine. And the thought of him had me weeping yesterday. All day. So other drivers wouldn’t think I was nuts, at one point I turned the bass in my car up to drown the sounds of gulping tears. But I wish I hadn’t. I wish I’d cried louder so even one person had rolled down their window and asked me what was wrong. Instead of my sobs, I wish I would have shared with them about my trip last week.
That truly, one person can change a life. I know. I met Nixon.
He has a 100 watt smile. Is full of vibrant life. And so handsome in his perfectly pressed suit. A suit he irons in stifling 95 degrees. His care to honor us with this detail makes me cry.
Nixon. His mom sews the loveliest embroidered pillow cases. His sister playfully teases him. These three truly adore and support each other. Their genuine love makes me cry.
Nixon. Dreams of graduating from university. And starting his own company. To provide for his mom. She has gone hungry so her children would not. She has had to turn to a last resort to provide for food. A resort no child wants his mother to have to go to. That no mother wants to turn to. $3 a day buys food for half a week. Please pause and soak that in. His and her sacrifices make me cry.
Nixon. He and his family set a table fit for a king and honored us strangers there. And welcomed us in his home of bamboo and clay. Prayed for us out of a wealth of relationship with our God. Their humbleness makes me cry.
Nixon. Abandoned by his father. Tempted by gangs. Seduced by drugs. Surrounded by poverty. His hard and difficult background makes me cry.
Nixon. Captured by the Lord. Leads worships with fervor and joy. Preaches the Word with diligence. Forgives with abandon. His humility and passion makes me cry.
His life was changed by one sponsor. His life is now changing the lives of his mom and sister. His cousins. The 300 children in his program. His church members. His neighbors.
Me.
Y’all, my words aren’t very fluid today. There is so much I’d love to convey. But what I can say is this. It’s true. One person can change a life.
Makes me wonder what ever happened to the man the Good Samaritan rescued…
A group of us spent last week in El Salvador. I promise I won’t write and post pics like one of those infomercials. You know the ones I’m talking about. My friend Brian spoke of ‘gratuitous poverty’ and that phrase stuck with me. I’m not here to barter one child’s story for your guilt. Instead, I want to share so maybe, just maybe, through a glimpse of a life, together we’ll trust the magnitude our choices can make in one life, one family, one community, one generation, one country.
Because one life surely changed mine. And the thought of him had me weeping yesterday. All day. So other drivers wouldn’t think I was nuts, at one point I turned the bass in my car up to drown the sounds of gulping tears. But I wish I hadn’t. I wish I’d cried louder so even one person had rolled down their window and asked me what was wrong. Instead of my sobs, I wish I would have shared with them about my trip last week.
That truly, one person can change a life. I know. I met Nixon.
He has a 100 watt smile. Is full of vibrant life. And so handsome in his perfectly pressed suit. A suit he irons in stifling 95 degrees. His care to honor us with this detail makes me cry.
Nixon. His mom sews the loveliest embroidered pillow cases. His sister playfully teases him. These three truly adore and support each other. Their genuine love makes me cry.
Nixon. Dreams of graduating from university. And starting his own company. To provide for his mom. She has gone hungry so her children would not. She has had to turn to a last resort to provide for food. A resort no child wants his mother to have to go to. That no mother wants to turn to. $3 a day buys food for half a week. Please pause and soak that in. His and her sacrifices make me cry.
Nixon. He and his family set a table fit for a king and honored us strangers there. And welcomed us in his home of bamboo and clay. Prayed for us out of a wealth of relationship with our God. Their humbleness makes me cry.
Nixon. Abandoned by his father. Tempted by gangs. Seduced by drugs. Surrounded by poverty. His hard and difficult background makes me cry.
Nixon. Captured by the Lord. Leads worships with fervor and joy. Preaches the Word with diligence. Forgives with abandon. His humility and passion makes me cry.
His life was changed by one sponsor. His life is now changing the lives of his mom and sister. His cousins. The 300 children in his program. His church members. His neighbors.
Me.
Y’all, my words aren’t very fluid today. There is so much I’d love to convey. But what I can say is this. It’s true. One person can change a life.
Makes me wonder what ever happened to the man the Good Samaritan rescued…
August 27, 2009
Well Worn
A friend loves at all times. ~Proverbs 17:17
A blog I ran across recently asked What do you love? One of the answers made me smile.
old abandoned buildings and barns
Me too!! They are beautiful, wouldn’t you agree? Think of the life they once contained. The homes spilling over with holiday cheer, back yard weddings, late nights brimming with laughter, countless meals celebrated. And the barns…baby animals born each spring, tools to tend and harvest, games of hide and seek in the lofts.
If only walls could talk! Oh to hear stories of when they stood the test of time, sheltering those within from being…
Pelted by the rains.
Burned by the sun.
Blown by the winds.
Beat up by life.
I admire these structures. Even after all the years of weathering the elements, protecting those within, these buildings beautifully offer…
A roof for shelter.
Walls of sanctuary.
A firm foundation to stand on.
Windows from which to gaze and dream.
A place of refuge from the pelting, burning, blowing, beating.
And so, I ask myself, What do I love?
I love my relationships that are so like these sweet, weathered buildings. I love my friendships that are full of life, laughter, love. Vibrant with cheer, celebrations and care. I love my companions who weather life with me, beautifully offering…
Shelter when rains fall.
Sanctuary when I’m burned.
Foundations to stand on when the winds blow.
Hope to gaze ahead and dream for me when I can’t dream for myself.
And a place of refuge when the pelting, burning, blowing, and beating come.
Oh, and I love old abandoned buildings and barns too!
A blog I ran across recently asked What do you love? One of the answers made me smile.
old abandoned buildings and barns
Me too!! They are beautiful, wouldn’t you agree? Think of the life they once contained. The homes spilling over with holiday cheer, back yard weddings, late nights brimming with laughter, countless meals celebrated. And the barns…baby animals born each spring, tools to tend and harvest, games of hide and seek in the lofts.
If only walls could talk! Oh to hear stories of when they stood the test of time, sheltering those within from being…
Pelted by the rains.
Burned by the sun.
Blown by the winds.
Beat up by life.
I admire these structures. Even after all the years of weathering the elements, protecting those within, these buildings beautifully offer…
A roof for shelter.
Walls of sanctuary.
A firm foundation to stand on.
Windows from which to gaze and dream.
A place of refuge from the pelting, burning, blowing, beating.
And so, I ask myself, What do I love?
I love my relationships that are so like these sweet, weathered buildings. I love my friendships that are full of life, laughter, love. Vibrant with cheer, celebrations and care. I love my companions who weather life with me, beautifully offering…
Shelter when rains fall.
Sanctuary when I’m burned.
Foundations to stand on when the winds blow.
Hope to gaze ahead and dream for me when I can’t dream for myself.
And a place of refuge when the pelting, burning, blowing, and beating come.
Oh, and I love old abandoned buildings and barns too!
August 6, 2009
Have Mercy
Let us fall into the hands of the LORD, for his mercy is great. ~2 Samuel 24:14
LORD, I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, O LORD. Renew them in our day, in our time make them known; in wrath remember mercy. ~Habakkuk 3:2
Yet give attention to your servant's prayer and his plea for mercy, O LORD my God. Hear the cry and the prayer that your servant is praying in your presence this day. ~1 Kings 8:28
Who knew a lawnmower would be a tool of mercy?
I didn't until my grass was knee-high forcing me to drop to my knees. Many times in prayer. And several with my scissors.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me back up....
I moved into my home when the weather had the potential of snow. Lawn care was the furthest thing from my mind! Late winter rolled into early spring rolled into the dog days of summer. Along with crickets and dusk at 9, summer gave birth to revived grass. Grass that didn't get the memo this girl did not own a lawnmower. Nor did she or her roomie have money to buy one.
So, what's a girl to do who lives surrounded by neighbors who can afford manicured lawn care? A girl breaks out her Fiskars of course! And when her hands are too blistered to continue cutting her grass with said handy scissors she goes to a yard sale (in case you're interested in giving this method a whirl, a square foot takes around 15 minutes). At said yard sale, she buys an ancient avocado green hedge trimmer. Brings it home. Connects every extenstion cord she owns (that'd be a whopping grand total of 2). Hacks the now nearly waist-high weeds, er ... grass, in the 25 foot radius her extension cords reach. And soaks her blistered, and now throbbing, hands in hot water. Have mercy.
Oh, and did I mention she avoids the persistent phone calls from her landlords reminding her of the lease which requires proper mowing, edging, trimming, and leaf blowing? The landlords who live three doors down with a bird's eye view of her yard. Have mercy.
And so she sneaks in well after the sun sets to avoid seeing in daylight what she knows is there--tall grass and annoyed neighbors. And then one day [night] she can't belive what her headlights tell her...the front yard is mowed! Mowed, edged, trimmed, raked, blown!! Have mercy!
Some mysterious person gave her the de-luxe lawn care package! To this day, she doesn't know who rescued her from breaking out the scissors and hedge trimmer again. Have mercy.
A month later a friend of a friend gave her an almost new mower. From Sears. With a bag. And blades. That cut a square foot in 5 seconds. Have mercy.
So, what's a girl to do when she receives a new mower? Well, for starters her roommate's dad changes the oil. And her friend's brother cuts the now eye-high grass for her (the backyard hadn't been mowed by Mystery Person.) Have you been outside in the South? In August? At 1 PM? Pushing a mower? Through a jungle? Have mercy!
And when it's all said and done she drops to her knees again; this time scissors and trimmer tucked snugly away in the utility room. She drops to her knees overwhelmed. She drops to her knees amazed. Amazed that she asked for mercy. Amazed that God gave it in so many ways. Have mercy. Mercy, indeed.
I honestly wasn't sure what I was going to do the rest of the summer/fall about my yard. There I stood before the proverbial Red Sea, knowing that unless the Lord parted the grasses (just roll with me here), I had no other way out. Part them He did.
Part them He does.
Sweet Heavenly Father, thank You for the character only You can develop in us as we stand before our "Red Sea," surrounded by the desert, the enemy, a massive impasse, and our own fear. We know You are the only One who can deliver us from the scorching dryness, the evil pursuer, the ocean of impossibilities and ourselves. We place our hope in You, to get us through this difficult season, and thank You for answering our cries for Your mercy. For the glory it will bring Your Name...for Your renown alone, Amen.
I love the LORD, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy. ~Psalm 116:1
Answer me, O LORD, out of the goodness of your love; in your great mercy turn to me. ~Psalm 69:16
LORD, I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, O LORD. Renew them in our day, in our time make them known; in wrath remember mercy. ~Habakkuk 3:2
Yet give attention to your servant's prayer and his plea for mercy, O LORD my God. Hear the cry and the prayer that your servant is praying in your presence this day. ~1 Kings 8:28
Who knew a lawnmower would be a tool of mercy?
I didn't until my grass was knee-high forcing me to drop to my knees. Many times in prayer. And several with my scissors.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me back up....
I moved into my home when the weather had the potential of snow. Lawn care was the furthest thing from my mind! Late winter rolled into early spring rolled into the dog days of summer. Along with crickets and dusk at 9, summer gave birth to revived grass. Grass that didn't get the memo this girl did not own a lawnmower. Nor did she or her roomie have money to buy one.
So, what's a girl to do who lives surrounded by neighbors who can afford manicured lawn care? A girl breaks out her Fiskars of course! And when her hands are too blistered to continue cutting her grass with said handy scissors she goes to a yard sale (in case you're interested in giving this method a whirl, a square foot takes around 15 minutes). At said yard sale, she buys an ancient avocado green hedge trimmer. Brings it home. Connects every extenstion cord she owns (that'd be a whopping grand total of 2). Hacks the now nearly waist-high weeds, er ... grass, in the 25 foot radius her extension cords reach. And soaks her blistered, and now throbbing, hands in hot water. Have mercy.
Oh, and did I mention she avoids the persistent phone calls from her landlords reminding her of the lease which requires proper mowing, edging, trimming, and leaf blowing? The landlords who live three doors down with a bird's eye view of her yard. Have mercy.
And so she sneaks in well after the sun sets to avoid seeing in daylight what she knows is there--tall grass and annoyed neighbors. And then one day [night] she can't belive what her headlights tell her...the front yard is mowed! Mowed, edged, trimmed, raked, blown!! Have mercy!
Some mysterious person gave her the de-luxe lawn care package! To this day, she doesn't know who rescued her from breaking out the scissors and hedge trimmer again. Have mercy.
A month later a friend of a friend gave her an almost new mower. From Sears. With a bag. And blades. That cut a square foot in 5 seconds. Have mercy.
So, what's a girl to do when she receives a new mower? Well, for starters her roommate's dad changes the oil. And her friend's brother cuts the now eye-high grass for her (the backyard hadn't been mowed by Mystery Person.) Have you been outside in the South? In August? At 1 PM? Pushing a mower? Through a jungle? Have mercy!
And when it's all said and done she drops to her knees again; this time scissors and trimmer tucked snugly away in the utility room. She drops to her knees overwhelmed. She drops to her knees amazed. Amazed that she asked for mercy. Amazed that God gave it in so many ways. Have mercy. Mercy, indeed.
I honestly wasn't sure what I was going to do the rest of the summer/fall about my yard. There I stood before the proverbial Red Sea, knowing that unless the Lord parted the grasses (just roll with me here), I had no other way out. Part them He did.
Part them He does.
Sweet Heavenly Father, thank You for the character only You can develop in us as we stand before our "Red Sea," surrounded by the desert, the enemy, a massive impasse, and our own fear. We know You are the only One who can deliver us from the scorching dryness, the evil pursuer, the ocean of impossibilities and ourselves. We place our hope in You, to get us through this difficult season, and thank You for answering our cries for Your mercy. For the glory it will bring Your Name...for Your renown alone, Amen.
I love the LORD, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy. ~Psalm 116:1
Answer me, O LORD, out of the goodness of your love; in your great mercy turn to me. ~Psalm 69:16
August 4, 2009
Resting on the very Word of God
The counsel of the LORD stands forever,the plans of His heart from generation to generation. ~Psalm 33:11
Yesterday I shared how my name was found resting on the name of God: Jehovah-Sabaoth, meaning the Lord of Armies.
In the midst of a lot going on at the conference, the voice of God whispered louder than the collective voices of 600 women attending. Amazing how His whispers to our hearts can drown out the masses.
One sweet whisper was a scripture He gave me from a pile of hundreds of verses.
Proverbs 19:21, Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails.
This is truth. Not circumstances. Not the journey. Not the outcome. The truth is God's sovereignty prevails. Or one could say His will is superior in strength, power, or influence; triumphant; wins out. God's will is predominant.
For this I am utterly grateful. I'd love to hear your verse from SS, or one that has spoken to your heart recently.
The mind of man plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps. ~Proverbs 16:9
The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. ~Zephaniah 3:17
Yesterday I shared how my name was found resting on the name of God: Jehovah-Sabaoth, meaning the Lord of Armies.
In the midst of a lot going on at the conference, the voice of God whispered louder than the collective voices of 600 women attending. Amazing how His whispers to our hearts can drown out the masses.
One sweet whisper was a scripture He gave me from a pile of hundreds of verses.
Proverbs 19:21, Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails.
This is truth. Not circumstances. Not the journey. Not the outcome. The truth is God's sovereignty prevails. Or one could say His will is superior in strength, power, or influence; triumphant; wins out. God's will is predominant.
For this I am utterly grateful. I'd love to hear your verse from SS, or one that has spoken to your heart recently.
The mind of man plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps. ~Proverbs 16:9
The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. ~Zephaniah 3:17
August 3, 2009
Resting on the very name of God
The Lord of Heaven’s Armies is here among us; the God of Israel is our fortress. ~Psalm 46:10
I just returned from a conference that was the efforts of 8 months of planning, a week of schlepping heavy boxes, loading and unloading and re-loading and unloading again trucks, setting up tables, breaking down tables, and 4 days of running up and down corridors of a hotel at the beck and call of 600 women.
Tiring? Yes. Chaotic? Nah. Why? Because the peace of God meanders about us in so many ways. One very special way is a small oasis in the hub-bub: the Prayer Room.
Soft music plays in an otherwise hushed room. Dim lights cast a soft glow on about 20 of the names of God. And each of the 600 names of the women attending and the helper/volunteers rest on one of His names.
Walking from one name to the other, I found myself on the last name of God I looked at and here is where I rested...
Jehovah-Sabaoth: the Lord of Hosts. The Lord of Armies.
The Lord of the hosts of heaven will always fulfill His purposes, even when the hosts of His earthly people fail.
So sweet. Such perfect words for the season I'm in.
If you were there I'd love to hear which name of God you were resting on. Thanks!
I just returned from a conference that was the efforts of 8 months of planning, a week of schlepping heavy boxes, loading and unloading and re-loading and unloading again trucks, setting up tables, breaking down tables, and 4 days of running up and down corridors of a hotel at the beck and call of 600 women.
Tiring? Yes. Chaotic? Nah. Why? Because the peace of God meanders about us in so many ways. One very special way is a small oasis in the hub-bub: the Prayer Room.
Soft music plays in an otherwise hushed room. Dim lights cast a soft glow on about 20 of the names of God. And each of the 600 names of the women attending and the helper/volunteers rest on one of His names.
Walking from one name to the other, I found myself on the last name of God I looked at and here is where I rested...
Jehovah-Sabaoth: the Lord of Hosts. The Lord of Armies.
The Lord of the hosts of heaven will always fulfill His purposes, even when the hosts of His earthly people fail.
So sweet. Such perfect words for the season I'm in.
If you were there I'd love to hear which name of God you were resting on. Thanks!
July 17, 2009
Ears to Hear
The LORD would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend. ~Exodus 33:11
Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will never pass away. ~Matthew 24:25
Mondays tend to be a bit manic. They brim over with a full day's work and evening commitments.
Sweeping in the door around 6 pm this week, I scrammed to freshen up before heading back out. All systems were a go.
Then it came. The pause. The momentum stopper. The exhale.
The sweet nudge from the Holy Spirit – it stops us in our tracks nudging us to ask what's on His heart. "Lord, what do you desire for me to do this evening?"
And I felt Him respond, "Take the night off and go shopping."
"Not at all what I expected, but let's go!" I swiped my day planner clean and sauntered over to one of my favorite stores to mosey around. There that tender tap came again. This time it was to go to a particular grocery store.
Why that one? I rarely shopped there. And I'd just been grocery shopping.
But the directions were specific. Go to that store at 7. Not before. Not after. Right at seven.
Seven o'clock I swung into the parking lot swarming with shoppers loading their cars.
"Excuse me Miss. Excuse me. Do you have a cell phone I can borrow?"
Sweating, hot and tired, a sweet grandma, mom and her baby were locked out of their car without a spare key or phone to call for help. How easy it could have been for them to ask any of the twenty or so people in the parking lot that were there before me. But they asked me.
After she made her call, I figured I'd check out the store while I was there. Oddly enough, the entrance door wouldn't open so I tried the exit door. I didn't get far! One of the workers met me as I tried to enter. "Sorry ma'am, we're closed."
Closed?! What grocery store closes at 7 pm!?
And then it hit me. That's why God asked me to clear my calendar. Meander around for an hour. And visit a completely random grocery store at a very specific time.
To be His hands and feet to the neat family in the parking lot. Not only so, but they were Jesus to me.
Do you ever falter in the security of discerning the Lord’s voice? Whether it's the Lord refining, your flesh, other people's words and actions, or the enemy ... it’s easy to wonder if that voice you hear is you or God. Over the last few months I’ve been tottering on the edge of uncertainty myself. What has seemed so clearly from the Lord has taken some battering blows, making me wonder.
Driving home from the random, closed, grocery store, the presence of God filled my car. And I heard Him say (yes, this time I was sure!), "My daughter, you do hear Me." What a sweet, clear confirmation.
I pray any areas of doubt and insecurity you may be struggling with are defeated at the crossroads of God's divine intervention and your obedience to His voice. May you hear His sweet voice and rest assured that whether you turn to the right or left, you will hear His voice guiding you...speaking to you.
For the one whom God has sent speaks the words of God, for God gives the Spirit without limit. ~John 3:34
Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will never pass away. ~Matthew 24:25
Mondays tend to be a bit manic. They brim over with a full day's work and evening commitments.
Sweeping in the door around 6 pm this week, I scrammed to freshen up before heading back out. All systems were a go.
Then it came. The pause. The momentum stopper. The exhale.
The sweet nudge from the Holy Spirit – it stops us in our tracks nudging us to ask what's on His heart. "Lord, what do you desire for me to do this evening?"
And I felt Him respond, "Take the night off and go shopping."
"Not at all what I expected, but let's go!" I swiped my day planner clean and sauntered over to one of my favorite stores to mosey around. There that tender tap came again. This time it was to go to a particular grocery store.
Why that one? I rarely shopped there. And I'd just been grocery shopping.
But the directions were specific. Go to that store at 7. Not before. Not after. Right at seven.
Seven o'clock I swung into the parking lot swarming with shoppers loading their cars.
"Excuse me Miss. Excuse me. Do you have a cell phone I can borrow?"
Sweating, hot and tired, a sweet grandma, mom and her baby were locked out of their car without a spare key or phone to call for help. How easy it could have been for them to ask any of the twenty or so people in the parking lot that were there before me. But they asked me.
After she made her call, I figured I'd check out the store while I was there. Oddly enough, the entrance door wouldn't open so I tried the exit door. I didn't get far! One of the workers met me as I tried to enter. "Sorry ma'am, we're closed."
Closed?! What grocery store closes at 7 pm!?
And then it hit me. That's why God asked me to clear my calendar. Meander around for an hour. And visit a completely random grocery store at a very specific time.
To be His hands and feet to the neat family in the parking lot. Not only so, but they were Jesus to me.
Do you ever falter in the security of discerning the Lord’s voice? Whether it's the Lord refining, your flesh, other people's words and actions, or the enemy ... it’s easy to wonder if that voice you hear is you or God. Over the last few months I’ve been tottering on the edge of uncertainty myself. What has seemed so clearly from the Lord has taken some battering blows, making me wonder.
Driving home from the random, closed, grocery store, the presence of God filled my car. And I heard Him say (yes, this time I was sure!), "My daughter, you do hear Me." What a sweet, clear confirmation.
I pray any areas of doubt and insecurity you may be struggling with are defeated at the crossroads of God's divine intervention and your obedience to His voice. May you hear His sweet voice and rest assured that whether you turn to the right or left, you will hear His voice guiding you...speaking to you.
For the one whom God has sent speaks the words of God, for God gives the Spirit without limit. ~John 3:34
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