Becoming

She rises while it is yet night and does good all her days. Running about buying and selling, still, she girds up her loins and feeds the poor. There she is, knitting, sewing, and making her clothes while speaking words of wisdom and kindness to her children. She is superwoman, so where does that leave me?

Who is this Proverbs 31 woman and is there any hope for me? I am not her. I won’t ever be her. She does more in a day than I will ever accomplish in my life. Yet, I am endeavoring, I am a process, I am grace and growing, I am becoming.

Becoming the Proverbs 31 woman is not about striving the work list to exhaustion and arriving. It is about life, living, heart attitudes and becoming like Him. It is not a 12-step checklist to do, but about principles and building on them. It is not about me, myself and I and all I do, but about living today for His glory. Becoming is being willing to move in His direction, one step at a time.

Becoming is seeking Jesus first. Life is full of important things, we always make time for what we value. Do you value Jesus so much that He comes first in your life? Are you devoted to seeking him like you are in keeping up with social media?

It is being relentlessly in prayer and intercession. The moments of falling before Jesus and seeking His presence and direction in your life. It is approaching the throne on behalf of others, pleading with the Father for them. Becoming is communion and time spent listening for that still small voice.

It is about being trustworthy and dependable. It is walking with people in your life, lending a listening ear or a hand. Becoming is encouraging and speaking grace to the surrounding hearts. It is being a blessing to someone because you know the warm circles that chased around your heart.

Becoming is seasoning your words with grace, kindness, and love. It is spreading joy and happiness like peanut butter. Spend time enriching other’s lives with your words, honoring them. It is about lifting and building up your friends; stop driving wedges and tearing down bridges.

It is being willing. Becoming is being deliberate about necessary changes in your life. It is being enthusiastic about jobs that are less than appealing. Finding the willingness to go the second mile and giving until you have no more to give. Becoming is digging deep inside for joy and willing your heart to sing, even when life feels less than joyful.

Becoming is meekness and humility. When the need arises, apologizing and asking for forgiveness. It is speaking words hard to say, but growing because of them. Times of falling and failure may happen, but getting back up and trying again is becoming.

Becoming is trusting with faith that God will be able to use ordinary you. It is not about knowing it all or being the best. When we are God-fearing women who are willing to stand in the gap and be used by Him, we are becoming.

It is about Him, not about me. Becoming is embracing God’s grace, bearing His image, and fulfilling His calling on my life. It is living with reckless abandonment and giving myself wholly to God. It is building upon those principles, applying them, and glorifying God with my life.

May 2017 (7)

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I Am Jehovah

When the road before you looks dark, long and lonely,
Jesus whispers, “I am Immanuel, God with us.
I will be with you every step of the way.

I will hold your hand, I will guide you and lead you,
I will never forsake you.”

When the mountain to climb is steep and wrought with trenches,
Jesus says, “I am El-Roi, the God who keeps watch.
I will climb by your side, I will not allow your foot to slip.
Even in your darkest hour, I will be with you. ”

When the stress and worries of the day threaten to overwhelm,
Jesus calls, “I am Jehovah Shalom, the God of peace.
Give me your fears, lay them at my feet.
I am the bearer of all burdens and I will carry yours.”

When worry of the future and for your family overtakes you,
Jesus replies, “I am Jehovah Jireh, I will provide.
I will care for your needs in ways you cannot imagine if you trust in me.”

When the long nights swallow up your lonely cries,
He whispers, “I am Jehovah Raah, your Shepherd.
I care for you and will be a friend and companion to you.”

When the questions go unanswered, time after time,
He says, “I am El Shaddai, the Lord God Almighty.
I have heard your cries, I know my ways are hard for you to understand.
Put your trust in me, rest in me, even when life seems unfair.”

When no songs of praise fall from your lips,
Jesus speaks, “I am Jehovah Nissi, I will give you a new song.
I will revive your spirits and bring life to your soul once more,
put your hope in me.”

When your heart is broken and nothing will mend it,
Jesus calls softly, “I am Jehovah Rapha, the one who heals.
I will heal your broken heart and bind up your wounds.”

No matter the problem, no matter the hour, Jesus is there.
“My Child, I am El Rachum, the God of compassion
and I feel your pain because you are so precious to me.
I hear your cries and collect your tears in a bottle.
I know the number of the hair on your head,
I care more for you than you will ever know.
You are my beloved and I love you with an everlasting love.”

sunset

A Masterpiece

You are a masterpiece.
You are His work of art,
His treasure, His prized possession.

With care, The Potter works the clay
and begins a transformation of you.
Tenderly shaping and forming,
you are molded into His image.
He sculpts and masterfully designs
and with intricate beauty,
crafts you into a piece for His glory.

Along with the spinning of the wheel,
there is scoring, trimming and carving.
The ribbing and scraping of His hand
bring sorrow, pain, and tears.
He is shaping and stretching you
far beyond your comfort zone,
all to be molded for His glory.

As the roar of fiery kiln surrounds you
and you feel the heat against your skin,
your heart cries out with pain,
“Jesus, it hurts! It is too much.”
But The Potter knows that raw clay
will crack and soon crumble under pressure
unless it is heated by the fire.
When it feels overwhelming and your tears fall,
know that He is near, He feels it too,
but with His loving hand
is conditioning you to be used for His glory.

As He works, He perfects your place in this world,
your family, your life, your story.
Each refining moment, every point in time,
show the marks of his gentle touch.
He fine tunes and carves away the rough edges,
He sands, smooths, and polishes,
bringing your shape to its ultimate beauty
to bring honor and glory to Him.

Throughout your life, He will continue to refine,
burnish and polish your character into his Image.
You are an ongoing work of art,
never complete to just hang on a wall.
You are a beautiful instrument meant for use,
fit for the glory of the One who created you.

You are perfectly you, the only you,
just the you He meant you to be.

You are a masterpiece.
You are His work of art,
His treasure, His prized possession.

potter's hands

To Love Someone

The world is full of hurting people.
Aching people, crying people, broken people.
People needing care, time, encouragement, love.
People needing me. People needing you.

But we so are busy, running to and fro,
doing this and that, creating chaos as we go.
We are all wrapped up in ourselves, tied up in our lives,
we are really too busy to stop for just a minute,
and listen to the crying hearts around us.

What if it were you or I crying?
What if it was my heart broken, needy, aching?
What if no one was there to encourage you,
to lift your weary arms, to pull you through?
What if no one loved me or you when we needed love?

This song plays often at my house.
It is my reminder to be there for someone.

You know someone, I know you do.
Search their heart for where it’s broken,
find the cracks and pour your heart in.
Be there for them today.
It won’t be fun or easy to enter their pain,
but there is always Jesus for those moments.

love someone

If I would have had no one walking beside me,
I would not have made it.
People stepped in and poured themselves and Jesus
into my life at a time that was most crucial
… and I lived because of them.
I’m sure you can think of someone who pulled you through,
who was there when you needed them the most.
Be that for someone else now.

Love someone today.

A Cushion of Peace

Far out over the ocean,
the night is a deep dark,
the moon covered in thick clouds.
A sharp wind blows in with a howl,
fierce and tumultuous it roars,
whipping and tearing the waters.
Billowing waves mount high,
cresting and breaking fiercely.
Rising swells heave and toss
and with fury, thrash in desperation.
The tempest sweeps over the deep,
turbulence swirls through the waters
and the ocean rolls with foam.
A storm roars with a vengeance.

While the winds and rain rage on,
deep down at the ocean’s greatest depths,
far beneath the agitated waters,
there is a sweet and peaceful calm.
Completely undisturbed by the wind and waves,
a quiet stillness reigns under the cushion of the sea.
Plants and vegetation float quietly,
shipwrecked parts lodge still,
a fish swirls in the deep.
There is quiet peace below
while the storm rages above.

Life brings storms raging,
gusts of wind push and shove,
knocking us to the ground.
Torrents of rain beat,
crashing our soul and
threatening to drown our spirit.
Turbulence is all around,
our heart cries out with pain,
fears assail and doubts abuse us.
We wonder if God cares,
will we live to see the end
of this fierce storm,
so weak and battered we are.

However, deep inside,
down in the inmost part of our soul,
beyond the raging and howling storm,
there is peace.
In our uttermost heart of hearts,
we know God really does care.
He loves and cherishes us
and has our very best in mind.
Rooted firmly inside we know
without a shadow of a doubt,
He protects, He shields,
He gathers us under His wings
and gently holds us close.
Deep down, we believe,
we know and we trust,
He is just, He is good,
He is faithful, He is love.

While the continuing storm rages wildly,
so high above on the ocean waters,
deep in the heart of our soul,
there is a cushion of peace.

peace

Mending Broken

I went to calling hours and a funeral.
I felt a chink in the heart walls so well-built,
a crevice began to open again,
and the tears came trickling out.

There was no comparison between him and her,
nothing about them was the same.
She was old and had lived a full life well.
He was young and in his prime.
But, old or young, a funeral is a funeral
and it pulls out all the emotions
that have been so carefully tucked away.

There are the flowers, sent for cheer,
along with photos and mementos of life filling the tables.
The long lines of people coming and going,
expressing sympathy in whispered words, stretch endless.
Hands, reaching and clasping,
arms tightening and squeezing silent messages.
The water bottles, tissues, and mints for raw throats,
clutter spaces under chairs not sat upon.
Pieces of conversation float through the air,
remember when they said this or did that,
and how we wish for one more word.
Words of songs meant to sooth,
yet they fill the air with sadness all the same.
And all the way up front
is the one lone wooden box.

You fight for control yet slowly, but surely
the heart begins to beat a faster pace,
the teeth clench and muscles tense.
Eyes dart this way and that for an escape
while the mind begins to unravel too quickly.
Tears push behind the eyelids only a blink from spilling
and the hands begin a cold sweat while the feet rush for a swift exit.
The cold darkness swallows the sobs
of the memories that come rushing back, threatening to overtake.

There is no comparison between him and her, really,
but what the mind sees and hears compels a rush of emotions,
cracking the walls so carefully built to guard the heart.

All alone in the darkness of tears,
the heart once again feels all the painful emotions.
Tears for the here and now,
mourning for the past and what was lost,
and an ache for the future and what will never be.

But with each new break, comes a new mending.
When He sees the heart walls chip and crumble,
the Mender returns and with his gentle touch
lends a few more stitches to repair and patch anew.
He speaks in soothing tones while He works,
pouring in healing oil and gently closing more gaps.
He reminds of His goodness and love,
His mercies new every morning
and whispers He has not forgotten.

With time and His touch, the heart will continue to mend,
but the scars and memories will always be a part of it.
While they look painful to most,
they also tell the story of the Mender
and his gentle touch on a heart.

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Christmas Now

It is Christmas time, all merry and bright,
carols and bells are ringing,
glad hearts are singing with cheer.
Thoughts turn toward home
and good memories are stirred,
chasing warm circles around the heart.
It is family time, reunited once more,
laughter, conversation and happiness galore.
There are lights twinkling merrily,
woodland greenery strung ‘round the house,
and good food always abounding.
It is Christmas time.

But amid the merry,
deep down in some hearts,
Christmas time does not bring
all the joy and gladness it once did.
An irreplaceable one, gone forever,
a hole in the heart, an ache in the soul,
always abiding and touching
each part of this favorite season.

A sadness fills the air
when a song is heard loud and clear.
The silver bells don’t ring so cheerily
as they once did in the past.
The joy around seems dampened
by the loss felt deep inside.
It is a silent night in the depths of the soul,
there is an ache no one on earth can fill.

The usual jolly has lost its appeal,
the laughter is quiet when thoughts
turn to family gatherings and
we think of the one who is missing.
The emptiness hangs heavy,
tears swell to near overflowing,
and our hearts ache for what we had.
Every moment that was
is now a memory worth reliving.

Our minds turn toward heaven
and know imagination cannot begin to tell,
all the beauty and glory that is Christmas there.
The story retold here on earth,
is alive in heaven today.
Hallelujahs ascend, praises without end,
a glorious resounding of song.
The Christmas story unfolded from beginning to end,
the reason for the songs we sing.
We know without a doubt
that the Christmas we love here,
holds no candle to the one that is there.

While our hearts long for your presence,
to be there with you now,
we will smile for the children
and tell the stories for their memories,
for we want you alive in their hearts
as much as you live on in ours.
We know you would tell us to go on and enjoy,
to smile through the tears and
remember the reason for living.
But in our heart of hearts,
we hang on just a little bit longer,
because Christmas just isn’t Christmas
without you.

Christmas Star