In the Dark, In the Sand…

You know those times when you aren’t feeling very good about yourself?

When you miss those companions that used to fit you like a glove

You know those times, where your heart feels like its breaking

For the “what ifs”, the “I wishes” and the “if onlys.”

It seems when you’re in that very place, when you need a friend just to understand, the phone rings,

“Uh huh.  Oh, OK.”  Another thing to deal with… another demand.

Where’s someone to hear me, feel my heartbeat, know me?

You have taken from me friend and neighbor- darkness is my closest friend.  Psalms 88:18

How I long for a walk on the beach

I have bathed in the sunset, felt the waves roll gently in.

Pressed my toes into the sand

Feel the water swirl around my feet, filling in the depressions that press into my heart.

God, that’s what I’ve forgotten… how you stick closer that a brother

How I’ve needed you

I feel like I’m stuck in quicksand, not on a joyful journey.

I feel like the sun is setting leaving me stranded in the dark.

“… Moses approached the thick darkness where God was.”  Exodus 20:21

Yet, this is where I find You…

Here…

In the dark, In the sand

Long after the sun has set.

Sticking closer than a brother, than a friend with skin

I cling

Knowing You have me here

Adjusting my eyes

Trusting it’s for great purpose

And here I dwell, where my companions…

Moses, David, Jesus, and Paul once lived.

Their recorded footprints tread a path before me.

In the dark, in the sandy desert places where the hope of an oasis isn’t just a mirage

And a friend, Jesus, my King of my darkness and sand, dwells with me until my feet are washed in the sandy water, that rubs me like sandpaper,

And me smoothed to His likeness.

So that I can run in the fields and drink from His oasis

When the sun rises…

In the morning



~I wrote this on a day when I felt lonely and discontent.  I used to fight those emotions and purposely try not to feel them.  Somewhere along the way though, I learned that negative emotions can have great purpose and lead to a greater fulfillment of life.  It just so happens that this discontent allowed for the sweetest reunion with those companions that "fit me like a glove."  May the greatest friend of all help you see the "whys" behind your dark days.
In Him,
Jen

Us "Nots"...

"Whats your name?"  I ask the new little boy in the neighborhood.  He answers.

"Oh, I've heard the other kids talk about you."

"Yeah," he says, "I'm bigger and stronger than the other kids.  I can even ride my bike faster.  Wanna see?"

My attention zoomed in on this kid.  Now knowing that he's not just "any" kid; I reply, "Oh is that so!  I would love to see how fast you ride your bike."

After he goes into the street and races up and down so fast and so hard that sweat drips down his temples, I commend him and his excellent efforts!  He can ride amazingly fast, and then I encourage him to use the brakes and not the soles of his shoes to turn, because brakes are so much "cooler."  Then I ask "Can I ask you a few questions?" to which he consents.  "Do you sometimes feel like you aren't as special as the other kids?"

His body squirms, his eyes don't meet mine but land off in the distance somewhere.  "Sometimes," came the quiet reply.  I knew "sometimes" didn't tell half the story that his body language and the sad tone of his voice did.

You know that old saying, "It takes one to know one."  Well, in this case it is very true.  I recognized in him rejection, a great pain, and a wound that seemed to cut into his very being.  Have you ever identified with someone, a speaker, an author, a singer, a friend, who was bold enough to share an experience that changed their very being?  And as you listened, your soul stirred.  Those memories came back to your mind and you understood the presenters very heartbeat.  Their very emotions or experiences that had changed them, at sometime, had changed you too.  Me too....

See, when I looked into that little boys eyes, I recognized something I've seen in my own eyes.  One time I wrote... Her Eyes and it tells about those eyes that speak.  One part says,

"I wear eyes that speak for me,

They tell the story of hurt,

They tell the story of brokenness,

They speak of pain...

When I see talking eyes on others I know what to do,

When I see them in the mirror staring back at myself I wish to take them off like a pair of glasses...

I wear a pair of eyes that don't shield me but reveal me.

They speak where my mouth can't."

And his eyes spoke what his words couldn't. 

Thankfully, My King has come to heal and use the wounds behind the eyes that reflect so transparently.

But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.  God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are "Not"—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him.

1 Corinthians 1:27-29 (Underline and Paranthesis are mine because I see me in that little word)

That little boy was a "Not".  I know that he even knows because he immediately tried to "convince" me otherwise.  He even tried to blow-out the other kid's candles' to try to "convince" himself that he's not a "Not".  I used other tactics when I was young, but they all are used for the same purpose.  Somewhere along the way though... I gave up.  I gave up riding my bike as fast as I could, I gave up the sweating, because you do sweat when you try to fight against what God created you to be.  My shoes stopped wearing out as quickly at that point because I learned my purpose and used the breaks on my old thinking. 

When I stopped fighting the realization that I was a "Not," and started to live in that reality, I found myself more emptied...
For His purposes.

I knew who I wasn't, and was Ok with how I so quickly ran out of what I really needed. That left me finding myself dependant upon Him...

Always for His love because others love is empty and failable 

Always for His Joy because it's like putting on His strength. 

Always for Him because His gifts aren't even enough. 

Yes, we "Not's" experienced much pain and reduction to bring us to the place where He needed us to be.  Yet, I've found...

Your way was in the sea,
Your path in the great waters,
And Your footsteps were not known.
Psalms 77:19

So, through our wildernesses, our tribulations, our great waters, our King's presence, His very footprints went with us.  His plan for those who could be considered "Not's" is to race past the worldly wisdom, the human strength, and the things that appear to "be", to show Him as The Great I Am.

You see, truely abiding in Him changes our "Not" into whatever He "would be," in whatever the moment calls for Him "to be." 

Only this Great kind of God could choose a "Not" and shine His Goodness through! 
A "Not" like that little boy, and somehow, even me.

"See I know something about you.  Even though I just met you," I told the little boy.  I know that God created you and that He never makes mistakes.  I know that He has a plan for your life and great purpose for you to carry out.  So don't worry so much about not feeling like you aren't as special as the others because in God's eyes, you couldn't be more special."

Our eyes locked.

He smiled

And he, another "Not", rode off on his bike without racing, because he's begun his journey of finding who he is, in the eyes of the One who truely matters.

Surviving...

For some reason, God has me just surviving financially.

No vacations, No splurging, No dreaming… at least no dreaming anything that costs money.

Yup, for right now, at least, I live on shoestrings.

I guess I shouldn’t be concerned about the talk of his job going away.

But, again, I feel that feeling well up inside the pit of me

You know that one that has clenched fists and worries.

Oh, how I wrestle with holding on to what I can see, touch and “count on.”

Ha, when did I fool myself, again, into believing I can “count on” fleshly things.

Shouldn’t I know better by now who my provider truly is?

How is it that I settle in and love comforts so much?

Comfort foods, cuddly blankets, comfortable jobs, cushy finances

God never promised these things; yet has allowed them in the past.

Then, a while back, the game changed and He demanded my complete trust.

And He provided!

Again and again He provided

When my freezer’s meat drawer was empty, He filled it…

To overflowing…

Again and

Again and

Again.

Oh I lived in the constant state of His generosity and provision.

Our needs were always met.

Our food, the roof over our heads, our clothes never wearing out

Our faith growing in ways I never imagined.

I saw God in ways I had never had the opportunity to in the past.

I knew God saw me in my wilderness, like He saw Hagar.

Then she called the name of the Lord who spoke to her, You-Are-the-God-Who-Sees; for she said, “Have I also here seen Him who sees me?”  Genesis 16:13

He knew me, He tested me, He grew me.

Yet, here I dwell with a clenched fist trying to hold onto “my idea.”

My idea of what I think is best.

I surrender.

Clenching fists seems easier then crying or being angry…

Or being afraid…

Afraid of being Powerless

Don’t we fear that?

Where you eat straight from the master’s hand

When our very next breath seems to be ordered the moment it’s due, or even the moment after, when it seems late.

I think He waits on purpose, to stretch us beyond what we thought possible, so we couldn’t possibly stretch far enough.

So we could run out… of the shoestrings, and scraps, and money, and breath, and hope, and of ourselves.

All of those things fool me.

All of those things get in the way.

All of those things can limit the new things He wants to do in our lives.

So sometimes He empties our meat drawers and removes our clenched fingers from grasping the fleshly…

To fill them

With His idea.  One that leaves us overflowing with hope, faith, purpose.

One to know, what is feels like to be “known” in a wilderness place

And one that now knows confidence in the orchestrator of our days and nights.

“You’re the God of my days, the King of my nights

Lord of my laughter, sovereign in sorrow

You’re the Prince of my praise, the love of my life

You never leave me, You are faithful, God of my days.”

Song: Gateway Worship “God Of My Days”

Trusting Him, with confidence, no matter what the horizons hold, comes from the experiences that build the “knowing.”

The “knowing” Him as Jehovah Jireh, My Provider

The provider who drops the dreams into my mind and orchestrates the events that play as my life’s story.

Surrendering my surviving, my fleshly comforts, my clenched fists full of worry

To be “known” by a Jehovah God,

and to trust that His dream for me is going to fit me,

once I’ve stretched large enough to handle it,

all with my confidence in Him.

Taming Emotions...

I tried to cheat.

I tried to separate my emotions from this writing...

I found it came up lacking, wanting

I tried to hide behind events and mask my emotions.

It came up shallow, superficial and empty.

I guess I can't write a regular blog

One about what I did today and how these precious little ones responded

I can't seem to keep a record of activities but emotions.

Emotions that drive me to the King

See I used to cheat and let my emotions sit upon the throne of my heart.

Their rule was chaotic, irrational and full

Until I learned how that's not the full we are designed for.

So I released full rule to my King and He set order to what was out of order.

He helped me arrest those emotions that ran wild within me

Wrestle with imagination, casting it down;

He and I were left standing...

Victorious over my old self.

So now any day I try to cheat, I'm exposed by the superficial.

Any day I work hard to hide to submerge myself in a dunk tank of shallow.

I drip with whats empty, with whats lacking the eternal;

Revealing my foolishness.

I guess I'm not allowed to write a precious blog of collected fun and memories.

For me He set up a standard where that would be me cheating, running, dripping wet with foolishness.

Instead my King pronounced a different edict

One that harnesses my deep emotions, exposes humanness and reveals Him.

Now I must ride like the tamed Stallion, arrested by loves freedom and driven as I was supposed to be.

Running...

I just want to hide away for a minute to think… to process… to digest.

It’s easier when we can look off into the distance and easily see our next moves.

So I put on my gym shoes and I hit the pavement.

The easy plodding along, the straight path ahead of me… the pace

My mind wanders across the decisions of the day and the job going away and the income needed…

Running, I know my end goal, I know how far; so I easily make a right.

In real life I face another crossroad.

Where are you God? Why so quiet?

The gnawing feeling of being tested to see the content of my heart eats my side as a cramp sets in.

I slow my thinking to the immediate; do I have what it takes?

I hold my side… I pray God holds my future.

I walk to the next corner; I rethink taking the long way, I feel the constant struggle I seem to face right now.

The second guessing, the weak feeling, the wondering… “Can I do this?”

God help…

The cars stream past endlessly, the lady waives, the breeze blows… almost whispers.

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.  For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls.  Hebrews 12:1-3

I cross, not choosing the easy path, I set my pace.

Am I running the race to win?

You ran well.  Who hindered you from obeying the truth?  This persuasion does not come from Him who calls you.  Galatians 5:7-8

I rethink my day.  I rethink where I went wrong, where I lost faith, where I tripped, where I was cut in on.

I run.  I pick up the pace.  The sweat breaks out like the joy inside.

I step over the obstacles in my path and I choose…

I choose to win.

I choose to fight.  I choose to trust.

I will say: 

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. 2 Timothy 4:7

I near my street, my home for now; I realize it’s all just a race.

I fix my eyes on my end goal.

I slow my gate.

He set my course.

He’ll have to make it obvious to me…

I remember the waive, the whisper.

I remember the times He’s done it before.

I smile, I slow… almost home.

I fight the breeze but I press in…

Tired, my foot strikes the pavement sustaining me from my constant falling position.

I let my will fall into His.

I can do this…
On the course He sets.

Then I open the door to winning.

Half Baked...

Half making cookies and half thinking; I realize how often I do that. 

I do have a bit of a sweet tooth. 

I lay out my ingredients and start creaming my butter.

Sometimes I do feel a bit grouchy, unhappy, discontent.

When I look around and see stuff half done.

Half cleaned kitchens

Half done aprons

Half obedient children

And a half hour late husband!

Oh and I won’t mention the half baked goals.

How is it, as I think about my day, my week, my empty… egg carton…

Who put the carton away empty… how I just hate half done jobs!

I wonder if they’d taste worst without the eggs.

They will probably be flat, like my goals.

I add “eggs” to my grocery list.

I see one of the neighbor kids pass through with a team shirt on.

A team I wanted the kids to be on… oh well.

It would be a house payment to let them all play.

I relook at my recipe.  I’m not sure why, without eggs, they wouldn’t taste the same.

I go back to my beginning goals.

Where did I go wrong?

I think about my original list to achieve…

Aprons weren’t on there but obedient children were.

Cookies would have been a detail but cleaned kitchens would have been a necessity.

How do somethings make the list?

The work things,

But the eggs get missed.

I decide to focus on what’s important.

My little girl’s big eyes look up at me, “What do we do now Mommy?”

I hug her to my side.

“We’ll have to text Daddy and see if he will pick some eggs up on his way home.”

I push the half made cookies to the side and again lead her outside to pick up the chalk.

“Copy what I do.”  She follows.

She obeys.

We finish a picture;

Half hers

Half mine.

Sealed with a whole hug and a big smile.

I brush off the chalk dust to finish my half made dough, to complete my family dinner,

Knowing what’s truly important needs to be mixed into my focus or they’ll never turn out right.

Choosing to Follow...

Have you ever been frustrated?
The kind of frustrated that leaves you angry, despite your ability to do anything about it.
Even considering writing again was a complete faith move.
It took a lot of faith, in my ability to hide my work, so I could continue to hide my emotions;
not just from you but from myself as well.
Then God directed me toward this very hidden place in my heart.
Healing couldn't even begin for me until I could allow myself to feel again...
where I deemed it necessary, for survival, to close up.
That all began my writing again.
For me, hearing myself isn't healing
Emotions expressed in the written form is like a salve or like expressing the air out of a balloon.
And here is where I wrestle with the depth of my emotions, the truth in them and the risk of sharing them with you.
If I continue to share with you, I lay myself out before you...
like in thread bare tattered clothes with little to cover me.
And yet, I still wrestle with trifle issues like over whether my prose seem too depressing or whether I do my King a justice by exposing me and Him, for who He is...
One who'd choose me, regardless of the mess I remain in or started as.
How could one such as I represent Him or do His name justice,
because I know who I am under the tatters, the remnants.


This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends. John 15:12-13
 
So my friend, I lay myself down before you.
Did you hear the noise of the balloon blowing out its air as it flies across this page, like my pen along these lines...
And soon as the written word is typed, as the letters chase the cursor across this screen.
It blew away the anger as my King blows away my fear.
For what kind of friend would I be if I hid my light under the bushel and chose not to lay it all down to do what I believe is right, healing and true.
So I take up my cross, beautiful or not with all my rough edges, slivers and awkwardness
And Follow.
Accepting my cross,
Risking it all...
For the deflating of my emotions and you...
I choose to follow.