Beloved Unveiled

Velcro of the Heart

2011-07-26T13:04:00.000-04:00

Outside everything looks great. The day glistens with sunshine. People move place to place with seemingly great ease and purpose. The clock demands my focus to tasks at hand. Basics of life are within reach. Prayers mutter through my mind as I think of those I love. All in all --everything casts a content hue. Yet...

Inside - instability. Discontentment. Is it holy discontentment or just missed place hope?

Velcro of the Heart. One side "needs" the other side "hopes." We are called trust (root meaning ATTACH OUR SELVES TO) the Lord. Hope is the ingredient that stabilizes contentment within my soul. If I am discontent than I have plugged into an object or a person that will not fulfill. For God promises that hoping in Him will cause me to thirst no more. What an audacious promise!

Discontment is bred in my attachment to anything but Him.

Time to embrace the sound of velcro coming undone. I long to reattach to the Lover of My Soul.

Winds of Change

2011-07-12T11:15:00.000-04:00

Today, I sensed "delay." It was thick in the atmosphere of my mind. Thoughts of Daniel and the angel being delayed by tne enemy shot through my mind. A fierce wave of intolerance rolled over me; there is no reason -- no earthly reason --breakthrough hasn't occurred. Sitting at the stop light with hands gripping the steering wheel, I gazed at the taunting RED light. Enough. It is time for change.

The words roared out of my mouth:

"To the north, south, east, and west I call for the winds of change. Bring release. Bring breakthrough. Delay no longer."

A storm raged through Atlanta this afternoon...

Winds of Change.

Capturing Love

2011-04-10T21:08:00.003-04:00

Lost in the Cameroon Time Zone

2011-03-12T01:50:00.004-05:00

The team has fallen...fallen into the Cameroonian time zone. When we walk, we casually shuffle (back in an hour means--maybe 2 hours). When we talk, we dialogue for hours. When we sing, we sweat from the dancing. When we pray, we are asked to pray more. Cameroonian time means longer, slower, and definitely deeper.

Yesterday was filled with home visits, enjoying the market place, and indulging ourselves deeper into the culture. We joined the city wide pray meeting last night in a massive stone dirt floor--unfinished-- Baptist church. The sounds of youth gathering in the night hours crying out for their nation. Different styles, different perspectives...but one heart-- Cameroom will see change by the Spirit of God.

Today-- the Hotpic Orphange. 100+ children waiting for us to join them. The Agenda: LOVE, FUN, LAUGHTER, SINGING, and FINGER PAINTING. Then off to a "going away party" with all the students that we have so intimately connected with over the last week. One final AMAZING Cameroonian meal, and it off to our 20+ hour journey home.

We have passed through so many times zones...including the time zones of our heart. The team has been tested with agendas changing last minute, things taking 3x as longer to get done then expected, waiting and waiting just because its the culture, and facing restlessness and exhaustion all at the same time. They have persevered and demonstrated such grace and love! They entered the Cameroonian time zone and took it on with great style.

We are headed home...our hearts filled with beautiful images and memories frozen in time!

Gold Pure Gold

2011-03-10T01:29:00.002-05:00

We awoke to the smell of Cameroonian pancakes, bananas, and Tartina (a version of Nutella--YUM).The water was running and warm showers were being had by all. But everyone was moving a bit slower. The heat, the pace, and the time clock change had finally shown it's toll on everyone. Somehow in the back of my head--- this then will be the perfect day for God to show His strength!

The morning was filled with breakthroughs and freedom. Stories started flooding to us about how things were changing in their (the students) hearts and affecting their families. We had people starting to randomly show up to the building for prayer desiring healing; those with HIV, blindness, and other illnesses have started to come.After our morning classes, we had enough time to eat lunch (at 3p)and head out to do Treasure Hunting. (we are on Cameroonian time--when it happens it happens)

Treasure Hunting was new concept for many of the students. It is a simple term to describe a fun way to organize outreach. We split the groups up, and asked each group to pray and ask God for "words of knowledge" about people. The words were like treasure clues though. Simple things like color of shirts, an image of a store, or a child. The students then shared their clues with one another, prayed, and set out to the areas of Buea to see if they could find the people God was asking them to bless.

Well the best testimony to illustrate a Treasure Hunt was from a student who had an image of young man 24yrs old, named Sergio, and new someone called Solenge. Well, as this team arrived to their location to the student's surprise there was a young man standing alone who "looked" like the one saw. He went in boldness and said to the young man, is your name Sergio, and he said -- yes. And then asked if he was 24 yrs old and new someone named Solenge...the answer was yes to both. So had an opportunity to pray with this young man, and bless him with God's love. The young man was blown away.

I could go on and on with the testimonies from our Treasure Hunts yesterday. There were healings; babies and young children who recently lost one or both of their parents being blessed with words of love, destiny, and joy; a family --with 4 generations present-- set free with love; students blessing students to succeed and follow their dreams. Life came to Buea in a whole new way.

The students returned from the outreach with SHEER joy.They saw that God can speak to them in the simplest ways...and it can have a GREAT impact.

Through humidity, tiredness, and cultural differences...the team persevered and through our weakness God was STRONG!

The day was gold --pure gold. Treasure had been found.

Faith and Joy

2011-03-09T02:03:00.004-05:00

The house is quiet this morning. Everyone is catching up on much needed sleep. The sounds of car horns, roosters, delivery trucks, and locals still penetrate the air, but they are blending into the "quiet" the longer we stay.

Yesterday FAITH and JOY emerged. Hospitals and homes were the target -- we were going out to pray for the sick. The students of the school and our team gathered in the morning to break into teams. There was a seriousness among the students. They had heard testimonies of our team laying hands on the sick and them being healed...and the yearned to see the same thing happen to them. There was one mandate that I gave: 'GO IN LOVE, honor the people you are praying for by taking love not just power, and then demonstrate that love through power. GO IN LOVE---and JOY!!!!" The students here are accustom to religion being something that requires you to be very serious, and "godly" in all your actions (quite legalistic and very judgemental)---and somehow the lie has come that your relationship with Christ does not include JOY! So-- we released the teams to go be the person God created each one to be -- BE YOU! Take the love of Christ through YOU and take the joy and spread it around.

Well, I smiled for hours as the teams returned. Yes, they were carrying testimonies of healings: knees healed, pelvic bones being healed, paralytics walking, and pain leaving bodies. But the JOY came when they started talking about how people wept (it is not common for people to cry in this culture) from feeling loved. The people in the hospital went from angry and depressed to smiling, lauging, and full of joy. One team visited a little 5yr old girl who is paralyzed. This little one has not smiled nor giggled in quite sometime. Can you imagine being a little one who loves to dance, and now your body is trapped from being free to be a child. The team prayed, and then someone followed their heart (Go Holy Spirit Go) and began dancing around her. The team said...we all became 5 years old again. As they all started dancing, this little one began to giggle and smile and hug, and even got swept up in the arms of the team and danced! She did not get healed physically-- but her heart was captivated by joy! Joy of the Lord is our strength!!!

We did a time of testimonies when the teams returned...and to my delight, everyone was full of faith and joy. The common response to outreach in the past has been discouragement and disappointment. Because "spiritual medicine" is common here -- the students hunger for power. They want to see the power of their God defeat the enemy...yesterday they watched love, joy, and yes--healing, push back the gates of hell in their city. But for the first time in response to some being healed and some NOT being healed their response was the same--JOY overtook them...the power of love is changing their city.

"Treasure Hunting" today!
For those who haven't a clue as to what that is...stay tuned for an update!

The Sounds

2011-03-07T01:49:00.003-05:00

The storm came raging in around 2am Sunday morning. Our team, though spread out across the beauitful town of Buea, was wide awake. But as the faithful sleepy team they are ...they began to pray and hear God's heart for the week to come. Rain and heavy storms are a common occurance here, but somehow we all felt God brought the rain! In the morning we awoke to the clouds being lifted and the glorious Mt. Cameroon showing its peak. (perfect place for a picture if I could get the pictures to upload!)But with lack of sleep, we were TIRED!

ASHIA is word we have come quite accustom to here. It means "I'm sorry" or "OOOO...too bad." The morning started to dawn-- roosters crowing as early as 4a, soliders marching by chanting at the top of their lungs, pigs squealing, and car horns honking---the water is off -- bucket baths again, electricity is off, and it was hot already...perfect conditions to test our attitudes..."ASHIA!" But the team was in rare form and ready for the day.

We had church-- 5+ hours of church yesterday. African music with voices blending in a harmonious sound that reminded us all of the heart beat of God. Meredith felt at home with the African music, the girls loved the dancing, the guys smiled in sheer contentment-- we are in Africa!

Most of the church was young adults that are apart of Youth Aglo-- not related to other internatianal youth aglos--but rather a group of young people here in Cameroom that came together from many different churches to pursue God ...amazing! They led worship, I preached a bit and then we opened the "doors" for ministry. We prophesied, delivered words of knowledge, and had the famous "fire tunnel," (this is where the team makes a tunnel and individuals pass between us as we lay hands on them to bless, impart, and stir them up to walk in the fullness God has for them. There were healings of backs, ears, and other pains...there were tears of joy and release from the prophetic words, and there were even demons cast out and a young man started his journey of becoming whole-- sounds like the Gospel! The team brought Good News and God demonstrated His love in powerful ways! No "Ashaia!"

The afternoon was spent with was a house full of people. We laughed, enjoyed a meal together, and shared our stories of the day about how good God is. The day birthed a deeper connection between us all...I even received the loving honorable name of "Auntie."

Today, we are hitting the streets and then school tonight with the ministry students.
More stories of God's goodness to come!

Beautiful Buea

2011-03-05T07:42:00.005-05:00

hello world!

The Cameroon team has safely arrived in Buea, Cameroon. We are all doing quite well...tired but that is to be expected after a 24 hour journey. Let me introduce you to the team...
Jessica Cooper
Kelly Smith
Meredith Thomas
Emily Watkins
Sharon Penquite
Jason Book
Roan Williams
Mike & Pat Caven

(Having a hard time uploading photos...patience they're coming soon!)

Oh...the stories are going to be fun on this trip. Our flights from Atlanta were relatively uneventful. We enjoyed AirFrance hospitality and spent long enough in Paris to enjoy pain au chocolat. It was good to be in France again-- my heart for the nations seems to always quake louder on European soil.

As we landed in Douala, you could feel the anticipation rising in the team. The humidity greeted us with a warm sticky 80 degrees. We are in Africa!

Sherri Lewis, our host and leader of Bethel Atlanta School of Supernatural Ministy --Cameroon (BASSM-CAM) AND MOST importantly my dear friend, greeted us with a hug smile and glowing face. A welcome we were all longing for after this extensive journey. That is when the chaos began...baggage claim. Hundreds of exhausted people clammering for their luggage. The high school cheer was running through mind..."BE Aggressive...B...E...Agressive." The mother hen in me was instantly in overdrive. We each brought an extra bag with donations for the orphange and school...18 bags! Bumper carts is a mild way to explain the process. Then it was time to face the gauntlet. The masses congregated at the exit...two lines where security officers check your bags before you exit. We were surrounded by men clammering to carry our bags, forcing their hands upon our luggage. We became masters at saying, "NO" without apology.

The security officer looked through a couple bags and suddenly surrendered to the idea to let us all through without further examination.

The anxiety in the team was rising, and this mother hen was praying for PEACE. I tried my best to get them to "hear my voice." It is amazing that when fear enters in how we (speaking in general)lose the ability to hear the voice that will bring peace and direction. I got a better of understanding of the Word..."my sheep with know my voice." As we got the steps...yes steps --with 18 bags all weighing 50lbs we faced our greatest challenge...we are surrounded by young men begging forcefully to carry our luggage. It is customary for locals to beg/work for money by carry your luggage. Can you see the picture now? 10 Americans carry huge bags...we screamed "money!" We persevered. We made it to our taxi van and piled in for a 1+ hour journey to Buea. We piled the 18 bags on the roof, and as Jason quipped, the luggage pile on top of the van was as big as the van. We prayed for angels to sit on the luggage...and off we went.

The road trip to Buea was uneventful...Praise God. The only obstacles...huge speed bumps and the cattle being herded down the road at...midnight?!

We arrived...each of us drained from the airport adreniline rush...settled into each of our host homes. Bucket baths greeted us this morning along with amazing beautiful hostess. We are lounging today...wearing off our jet leg, eating traditional foods, spending time together as team...and preparing for a week of loving Africa.

Out of America

2011-03-02T23:42:00.002-05:00

Simply...

Packing, packing, and packing.

Peace Be Still

2011-03-01T21:33:00.002-05:00

Patience was tested today. I called the Cameroon Embassy to check on the status of our visas...considering ...oh, in let's see -48 hours we should be on a plane headed to Douala, Cameroon. After being transferred multiple times, I finally reached a human. He listened to my plea, and acted terribly annoyed that I disturbed his day. Then he told me to call back in 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, I have a business meeting waiting on me in the other room. Gracious team of people, but their patience was wearing thin as well. Multitasking may be the art of a woman, but there is a limit to my mad skills-- and I met the limit of my strength today.

So, in my weakness He is strong. I will call back and I will get answer.

Thinking good news is about to ring out-- I call again after the 30 minutes passed. Only to be automatically transferred to a FULL mailbox. HHHMMMM...I shall persevere. I dial back 5 more times...until finally someone answers. I ask for my extension...only to find myself leaving another message. So, I persist! I call again, and again, and again...but now my number is being screened. No-- not paranoia...I could hear them pick up, push a button and find myself transferred to a voicemail.

By this time, my nerves are shot. Balancing a business meeting, phone calls to an embassy that is screening your calls, and trying to field the texts, emails, and voice mails of concerned team members and friends...wore me out!

Watching my countenance fade, my business associates rallied around me in prayer. Then the email from Sherri Lewis (the wonderful amazing friend we are visiting in Cameroon) emails..."no one at the Embassy is answering the phone...I think they are gone for the day." My stomach dropped. I thought-- the enemy has gone too far! My peace has been stolen...and I am not settling for this! But what is a girl to do??????

After resigning to a long night ahead...I finished my meeting.

Then the ding of all dings..."you've got mail."

There it was...the forwarded email from Sherri announcing the Embassy processed and packaged the approved visas that afternoon and I should receive them tomorrow.

WHAT??!!! Elated, of course...but they could have told me that earlier! But patience would have never been tested!

So tonight...peace be still...I am sleeping this day off my mind!

Africa Journey

2011-02-27T20:05:00.002-05:00

March 3rd, I embark with 9 others to Cameroon, Africa. I am turning by blog into a jounral for a couple weeks to see if it will inspire me to write more often(considering I deserted by blog for the last --oh, 7 months). Maybe if all my dear "revelation" buddies and friends will send me questions and comments -- you could get me writing again!

Don't know how often I will have access to the internet while I am in Africa...so no promises but if I can get online...I will blog a note or two.

Until then...if you randomly catch this blog...pray for me. My heart is full of hope for the things unraveling in my life. Dreams seem so tangible. Hope is thick...but the dogs of doom that growl at the door of destiny are snarling viciously at me. My dreams at night are filled with me searching, running through fields, looking for the door to my secret garden-- the garden that blooms with fullness.

Life will speed by the next couple days...so...I will check back in on Thursday as we embark on our journey.

Returning and Rest

2010-07-08T17:55:00.000-04:00

Authenticity...living integrity. living open. living without compromise.

I was a bit on edge that day. Excited and very hopeful, but I sensed my heart was going to get exposed. As I sat with a friend, the conversation took an interesting twist; I watched my friend begin to unravel revelation with the best words one could use...but the mind couldn't articulate what the heart had found. The crux of the revelation...

It has all been accomplished-- no striving necessary, just discovery.

Do I believe is has all been accomplished-- and does my life reflect that truth?
Am I trying to gain what has already been given?

Lately, in several situations or conversations-- including that one, I have heard (yes, without being naive I know I listen through my own filter) the phrase, "you are amazing, but..." Oh, how this phrase has rocked my core. I am acutely aware of how quick my response is to perform my way into the good favor of relationships. And sadly, found I was still under the false premise that performance works with God too! I can preach it with the best of them...but we all know layers of disappoint, misconceptions, false teachings, and complacency will cause us to build habits that simply do not line up with the Word of God. But truth sets us free-- Praise God! I am watching in all these situations, my acceptance being measured...and I was finding out that I did not measure up to the standards placed before me. My heart was growing uneasy. Unwilling to accept rejection as my answer...I began to seek truth-- precept upon precept.

A crossroad appeared... authenticity or performance. It was my choice in how to respond to the standards set before me; but one road is certainly less traveled by. The question is no longer where I am headed...but how. Christ paid the price from my life-- and through Him I have been saved and sanctified. So life is no longer about finding salvation (striving) but living salvation (resting). Authenticity means I know who I am through the New Covenant. Performance means I still believe a sacrifice must be made to make me acceptable. I believe that only through an authentic lifestyle of true identity can we rejoice in all trials. Will I sing in prison? Will I rejoice with chains? Only if I know the truth-- that it has all been accomplished through Christ. The road by authenticity will ask of me to believe. The road by performance will ask of me to work. The road by authenticity will require understanding. The road by performance will require knowledge. The road by authenticity will demand trust. The road by performance will depend on me.

I am weary of performing; weary of weighing the opinions of others and myself…
I am choosing the road of authenticity…embracing at new level all that Christ has accomplished.

Now it is time for a season of discovery – may this journey be rich and long.

"In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and
confidence shall be your strength." Isaiah 30:15

Unlocking Unity

2010-06-15T21:32:00.000-04:00

Authentic in word and action...

I am convinced the threat against unity is the lack of authenticity. Unity is a beautiful picture of one's power, authority, and love embracing another person in all of their power, authority and love. Thus unity must be a product of honor. Where there is no honor there is no unity.

The greatest display of unity is the Godhead. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Living to submit to one another, never offending, never exerting authority, and never withholding. Displays of glory never pointing to self but rather pointing to the other.

The Godhead has nothing to hide. Nothing to prove. No greater success to achieve. The Godhead simply lives to have relationship.

If we are to live out God's glory on earth, and re-present heaven then unity among His people must be found. For unity is the product of honor. Honor comes from recognizing the God within another and giving it value.

To achieve honor we must achieve authenticity. Authenticity is rooted is safety of being known and accepted for who you are. We are plagued with wounds and belief systems that undermine the freedom given to us in Christ. Our identity as sons of God should cause us to be servant's of all and lovers of our enemies. Honor does not mean I give my power, authority and love away...it means I use all three to magnify Christ in you. Honor is the most empowering currency within the Kingdom.

Yet, we hide behind walls, temper our words to be more palatable for other's insecurities, spin plates of good works to distract from the foundational character cracks. We lose...we hinder ourselves.

I am hungry for authenticity. I desire to to run with a community of believers captivated by Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The "beloved unveiled" takes one more step closer to being free. Authenticity is key.

My Canvas

2010-04-25T20:13:00.003-04:00

Sitting back and watching the recorded special of the 25th Anniversary of the Music Hall of Fame caused me to escape into a world defined by life sculpting lyrics, authentic voices scratching at my soul, and guitar riffs that moved me to exhilaration and tears. Artists consumed, abandoned. The result -- the unforgettable.

I want to find my art, and craft it like the lyrics of Sting, play it like Jeff Beck, and become timeless like Bonnie Raitt.

Creativity is aching to be expressed. Where is my canvas?

Treasure Hunting in the Dark

2010-03-27T07:48:00.003-04:00

Isaiah 45:3
And I will give you the treasures of darkness, and hidden riches of secret places, that you may know that I, the LORD, which call you by your name, am the God of Israel.

Treasuring hunting in the dark...hearing His voice sing...

"Why are you striving these days
Why are you trying to earn grace
Why are you crying
Let me lift up your face
Just don't turn away

Why are you looking for love
Why are you still searching as if I'm not enough
To where will you go child
Tell me where will you run
To where will you run

And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Look at these hands and my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life

Cause I, I love you
I want you to know
That I, I love you
I'll never let you go"

Enough said.

Song: By Your Side
Artist: Tenth Avenue North

Learning to Stand

2010-03-22T17:12:00.003-04:00

Being faced with a storm, I flung my heart open to dear friends in desperation for prayer.

I do not have clue how to more forward.

And then the words came, stand--and when all else fails-- stand again. My walk with God has demanded cliff-jumping into the unknown, sailing into winds of adversity, and running with passion into the impossible -- but that is just it. This time I must stand. I found great security in moving forward. I relied too heavily on taking new ground. Standing feels like a loss.

Trust in Me, He says.

My heart aches to know what about "standing" represents Christ? What picture of heaven can you find in me rooting down with absolution? There is something here He wants me to know.

Learning to stand exposed my lack of trust and positioned to me to renew my strength in Him alone.

Learning stand -- who knew that it would be harder than running.

Does he know?

2010-03-16T20:02:00.006-04:00

That look...
His eyes danced with mine
Unity was found

That look...
Fear steals such beauty
More questions avail

That look...
Deep calls unto deep
Great passion is seen

That look...
Whispers come with doubt
Yet hope still lingers

That look...
Ushered into love
All else is fading

That look.

Really God?

2010-03-15T20:53:00.002-04:00

Today, I found myself pondering of the idea of standing before the throne of God-- in the midst of the 24 elders-- throwing out the question that is nagging my heart and mind. It is a bit humorous to think God doesn't already know my question, but something in me finally relented. I had been asking the question for awhile now, but vocalizing it more as a complaint. Today, I wanted an answer.

Now you must work with me here...my tone is a bit sarcastic, seasoned with some accusation, but heavily concentrated with wonderment. Here's the question...

"Really God? Really?"

Too many coincidental things have taken place in the past few weeks for me to not take notice. Old relationships stirring emotions, new friends speaking familiar phrases that trigger fear, hopes seemingly being deferred, challenges with multiple layers, playing 5 steps forward 3 steps back...I will spare you the full list of my negativity.

So, today I asked my question with sincerity and surrender. He kindly (kindness does lead to repentance) reminded me of a dialogue we had while I was in Guyana a couple weeks ago.

While basking in the early morning sun--peacefully removed from the pressures of my normal life, I asked God to search my heart. I have seen shadows of doubt and sadness lurking about in my life lately, and I wanted to know what was casting the shadow upon my hope. God and I talked awhile about His intentions for my life as I strolled along the alters of my heart where I have established the testimonies of His faithfulness and goodness. Unbelief and disappointment were exposed. So after repenting for harboring lies, I began reflecting on His promises and asked God to seal the morning with a scripture that could carry me forward. I heard Psalm 16. Not having a clue what was in Psalm 16, I turned to the passage and found a song scripted just for my heart.

Preserve me, O God, for in You I put my trust.O my soul, you have said to the LORD,“You are my Lord, My goodness is nothing apart from You.”

O LORD, You are the portion of my inheritance and my cup;
You maintain my lot.
The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; Yes, I have a good inheritance.
I will bless the LORD who has given me counsel; My heart also instructs me in the night seasons.I have set the LORD always before me; Because He is at my right hand I shall not be moved.

Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoices; My flesh also will rest in hope.

You will show me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

He reminded me today of our early morning chat...He reminded me that fullness, maturity, abundance, all things, greater things, and the list goes on --are the words He uses to describe my life as His child.

The answer to my question is..."Yes, Precious. Really."

The path I am on is one of possessing fullness, one of working out my maturity, one of experiencing abundance, one of leaning into the strength that says I can do all things, and one that promises me the grace to do even greater things. God delights in helping His children. He longs for us to know the fullness of His joy. He longs for us to tap into the strength, love, grace, and peace that was paid for by His Son. What I face in my path TODAY is my portion to obtain fullness. He may not cause all things, but He is truly sovereign. And all He said was "Trust Me."

Psalm 16 is rich in truth...I sense I will be pondering this passage for a moment or two. But as for tomorrow, I think I will ponder what is like to be in the throne room with God, not asking questions, but instead listening to His promised counsel. Trusting.

Really God. Really.

The Demand

2010-03-14T20:56:00.002-04:00

The demand is there. Not from anyone in particular, but maybe from the one source I should remain true. The demand is from my heart. My mind races most of the time with thoughts. My heart yearns for someone to listen. The demand is to write.

This begins the second attempt. The attempt to formulate the ideas into concepts; the attempt to mold the hopes into realities; and the attempt to craft thoughts into sentences. This is my attempt to begin writing the book that is within me.

Here goes nothin'...strike that...here goes everything!

Archiving 2009

2010-03-14T20:42:00.001-04:00

Sitting with a dear friend over lunch, I poured my heart out. It was one of those days. I was riding the pendulum of thoughts energized by the momentum of emotion. In one thought, I recognized the goodness of God and in the next tears welled in my eyes with wonderment --would things ever change? I thought 2009 was supposed to be a year my dreams came true. That is when my friend said one phrase and suddenly everything stopped. “Time is for you.”

I could feel the resistance within me. Embracing the idea that time is for me seemed too easy, too lofty, and would steal my ability to complain. Time has always been against me, I thought. All day long, I am racing the clock: deadlines at work; meetings before the meetings; phone calls taking twice as long; days, weeks, years flying by with only fragments of my dreams coming true. Time is a thief, I thought. It takes without regard to my dreams. How could time be for me?

Once again, I found myself face to face with the constraints woven by my perception. Hope deferred, disappointment, and unmet expectations had colored the lens of my life. Time had become the measurement tool of satisfaction, when in Kingdom reality it was meant to be the tool of change and a craftsman of my dreams. Before the foundations of the earth, God established His intentions for my life. Then He created the earth, and set me here for such a time as this. Time was His idea, not the enemy’s. Time was meant to unravel the glory of God. Time was meant for me.

Seasons may be the most beautiful picture of time. Autumn unveils the vulnerability of creation displayed in a beautiful array of color, as it becomes subject to death during the invasive reach of winter. Spring emerges redeeming the stillness of winter by exploding with beauty, and then sets the stage for summer to unleash its declaration of life. Time cultivates beauty. It prunes the elements that hold us back. It co-labors with the intentions of God to display glory.

My perception of time is changing. Waiting the on Lord no longer seems to be a punishment, or a training session for an un-yielded heart to God. Time is God’s tool to bring forth His purposes in seasons that display His character, His love, and His glory. Time is the most generous giver. It allows for repentance; it allows for hope; and it allows for me to choose. I was challenged the other day by the question, “What are you waiting for?” If God has given us all things that pertain to life and godliness in order that we may participate in divine nature (2 Peter 1)—what am I waiting for?

That is when I discovered the key. Time makes me dependent on God. Time is God’s tool for me to discover His freedom. Freedom from worry. Freedom from performance. Freedom from disappointment. Time is His tool to demonstrate all things work out for the good of His will. Time is the infrastructure that gives us the choice to become dependent.

Time is my promise of inheritance. Time is for me. It gives me the greatest privilege…time allows me to wait on the Lord.

“Do not fret because of evildoers; be not envious toward wrongdoers. For they will wither quickly like the grass, and fade like the green herb. Trust in the LORD, and do good. Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness. Delight yourself in the LORD; And He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD, trust also in Him, and He will do it. And He will bring forth your righteousness as the light, and your judgment as the noonday. Rest in the LORD and wait patiently for Him; do not fret because of him who prospers in his way because of the man who carries out wicked schemes. Cease from anger, and forsake wrath; do not fret, it leads only to evildoing. For evildoers will be cut off, but those who wait for the LORD, they will inherit the land.” Psalm 37: 1-9

What Dreams May Come

2009-01-10T16:12:00.004-05:00

On a return flight home after a week of happily enduring the blistering cold of the Rockies, I joined in the customary year-end reflection of sizing up the former year, and making determined decisions for the year to come. Admittedly, I sensed the normal skepticism in my goals: achievable, practical, and expected. As I continued to draft my expected 2009 goals, something nagged within me. I wanted to write the desires of my heart upon the page. I wanted the fore longed desires of my heart to be ranked among the achievable, the practical, and the expected. Do I dare believe the dreams that brink on the impossible could be achieved through goal setting? Romanticism has taught me all-to- well that the impossible is hung in the stars and only graces the few or the lucky. But a thought passed through my mind of a quote I have often heard Bill Johnson speak; “I can no longer afford to have any thoughts that are not of the Kingdom.” I must admit, the currency of worldly romanticism has left me with an impoverished mentality—and it is bankrupting my dreams. I find the world offering my dreams a similar fate to that of the French Franc coins sitting in my sock drawer. They represent a currency I once valued, but now are absorbed into a system that has striped it from its vitality--diluted in the hope of becoming stronger through compromise. I have no political ploy within my analogy, just simple reflection of how change is justified and aspirations birthed in passion can wane with time if not nurtured by truth and watered with hope.

So sitting there in plane, I pressed into the Kingdom knowing my mindset needed to change. A thought occurred: if nothing happens in the Kingdom expect through declaration, then what must be my declaration for 2009?

“The year dreams come true.”

Such a lofty thing to hear: dreams coming true. But the idea burned within me. Sitting there in the noisy silence of the plane as I stared at my laptop sitting on the tray table, the cursor blinked--waiting for me to write down my declaration. I found myself smiling.

“The year dreams come true.” There it was in black and white. Simple but demanding so much faith. I quickly began to chase my thoughts: the impossibilities, the “greater things”, and my deepest heart desires. Content in my moment of revelation, I wrote them down.

As I found myself in bed that night, I thanked God for His promise and mustered the faith to willingly agree to place my dreams in the “achievable category.” Little did I know, the confirmation of this declaration that was awaiting me.

The next day held conversations and discussions of letting go 2008, as we begin to embrace the unknown good intentions God has for us in 2009--including our dreams coming true. Monday started with a conversation about never letting money get in the way of your dreams and a recommendation to read a book called “Dream Manager.” Tuesday brought a card with an inscription telling me it was a perfect day for dreams to come true. Wednesday did not relent as I turned on the car and the radio blared “Sweet dreams are made of these” only to be followed on Thursday morning with me turning on the TV to find before my eyes the movie, “What Dreams May Come.” I could dismiss, discount, and even disbelieve these signs – but why? God is speaking. God is promising.
If a good father would not give his child a scorpion when he asks for bread, how much more so would our Heavenly Father love to adorn us with our heart’s desire?

Heart’s desire—dreams. They seem selfish by definition unless we know our identity. Christ within in me is the hope of glory. A phrase that I am still learning to unravel, but is poignant nonetheless to make clear that Christ lives within us. The Son of God lives in me. Saturated by His presence and plagued with obedience, my identity allows me to know my heart’s desires are His and His are mine.

If my dreams to are to be achievable but hold an element of impossibility, what goals do I set? Herein lays a key, in order for dreams to come true they must emerge out of covenant. The world offers inconsistent companionship and teaches us to labor onto own desires to demonstrate favor and ability.
The result is often compromise, disillusion out of competition, and disappointment as our own ability fails us one way or another. Dreams fade as we lose hope in ourselves and others. Dreams are made up of relationships and our wounds have bankrupted us.

There is a cost to dreams. It takes a partnership to see them filled. Dreams always involve some one, some thing, or somewhere; all of which takes more than one person to achieve. Then if you add the element of the impossibility or even something just beyond your reach, how much more so is a partnership with God needed. God offers relationship. He created us as vessels designed to contain grace. That grace provides the ability to participate in divine nature.

Dreams could be defined as goals that require grace. Grace through faith; faith in a covenant keeping God.

Some of my fondest memories are the Saturday mornings I spent a decade ago weeping on the dirt oiled stained concrete floor of an inner city ministry. My face smudged with tears and dirt stains, and my body curled in a fetal position. There I was in the midst of world desperate for God, and the only place I could find of value was to lie before Him. There I began to know Him. Within year of those precious Saturday mornings, the door to my heart’s desire to travel the world began to open. The dream was achieved through relationship.

I will cry out; He will hear me. I will seek; He will I find. I will knock; He will answer. I will ask; He will give. The investment of love, faith, and hope becomes the currency in which dreams are made real. Discovering covenant relationship and the power that lies within maybe the key to His people entering into fullness of the promised glory of heaven on earth.

The year dreams come true.
Psalm 21:2

There She Is

2009-01-02T17:41:00.003-05:00

There she is
I have dreamt of her

There she is
O'Arise my friend

There she is
Eyes no longer blur

There she is
Let the fear resend

There she is
No time to defer

There she is
There she is
There she is in the mirror.

Sweet Dreams are Made of These

2009-01-01T13:52:00.002-05:00

January 1, 2009 seems a fitting time to start blogging again.

I heard on the plane returning from Montana to Altanta on 12/27/08 that 2009 will be a year that dreams come true. Then each day following I had random SWEET kiss from heaven happen confirm His voice. First, "dreams coming true" was mentioned multiple times in discussion, then the next day someone recommends a book called "Dream Manager," then the following day I receive a card with the inscription telling me it is the perfect day for dreams to come true, then the next day I start my car to the radio blaring the song "Sweet dremas are made of these," and then today I turn on the TV to watch a movie and find it playing "What Dreams May Come."

I can't wait for another kiss!

This is too fun! God speakng. God promising. I could discount, dismiss, and disbelive-- but why. It is the lover of my soul who spoke of His Father being the one who never gives His children a bad gift. If a good father would never give a scorpion in place of the requested bread -- how much so can I count on My Heavenly Father giving me the dreams of my heart.

2009 -- may heaven and earth hear my voice proclaim: I believe this is the year dreams come true.

Weapons or Tools?

2008-08-12T19:13:00.004-04:00

Embracing the power of words has sent me down a trail of seeking for more. Thoughts have become more than passing dreams or impressions--they are becoming the motive to shape my world. And words are distinctly my weapon of choice to achieve my hopes. But--maybe there is one step further into revelation I must journey -- allowing words to become tools not weapons.

Why do I view words as a "weapons" of choice? Am I a person on defense, not understanding the power of His resurrection? Have words become my shield not sword? Has the power of words be relegated to the belief I am the tail...not the head?

We all know that sticks and stones do break bones, but worse yet words can ever hurt you. My words can be dangerous -- they have direct impact. In the circle of friends I run in, we love to joke and play around with words, but every so often the tone of the conversation will momentarily change and someone will say, "don't speak that over yourself." Why at one comment out of a hundred, in the midst of fun and intimate banter, would we stop one another from speaking certain words? There must be something more riding on our words. We recognize the power of death, but have we not pushed in along enough to witness the power of life?

What if words become tools to craft heaven on earth; what if words become the paint brushes to color the realities of the world; what if words took the offense and spent more time shaping than redefining; what if words set me free instead of coercing me into submission.

Out of the heart the mouth speaks. Does it come down to who does He say that I am? A solider fighting my way to the heavenly gates or the co-heir seated in heavenly places? A sinner saved by grace or a saint that was saved by His love and mercy through grace?

Words.

Words of Life

2008-07-30T17:58:00.000-04:00

To my surprise, posting has been difficult for me. I have discovered I am still rooting out "perfection." Which is the polite way to say...I am still dealing with fear of man. Ugh! Words are not hard for me to come by; but knowing that they will be written for all to see...causes me to pause a bit before I declare my thoughts for my faithful friends to view and ponder. Guess I am avoiding accountability!

Anyway--this morning is worth writing about.

I was laying in bed this morning--not waiting to drag myself out of bed at 5:30am to start my morning routine, so I found justification to lay in bed just a bit long by asking Papa why I was struggling so much with the basics--ya know...the classics-- feeling undisciplined, lack of accomplishing the goals I have set before me, not seeing my dreams fulfilled...blah blah blah. So, I asked Him the straight question, "what lie am I believing?"

Then the answer came. Remember it's now about 6am...after my 30 minute dumping session of "woe is me." It's still early...so the response I heard was one I am certain I did not think up on my own.

The answer I heard, "you believe the lie that "this" is all you have been allotted in life and now it is a matter of stewardship. anything extra is simply overflow from the goodness of those around you."

Smack! wow, wasn't ready for that one.

But it is true. I was believing the lie that dreams are simply that...just dreams. Funny coming from a girl whose dreams have come true--quite literally. Worse yet, because I believed that God had allotted me just "so much" from His Kingdom I grew complacent--and heart sick. Complacency bred out of believing that "this is it"...is horrifying.

Let's see if I can break this down. I am child of the Most High God. Given authority --keys to the kingdom-- that enable me to bring heaven on earth. Through the price His Son paid for me I have been given authority in my words--they speak life or death. So, if I believe a lie in any area of my life, I start walking out that lie and it breeds complacency--in my case it sounded like this "God is good; I know Him; I hear Him; I guess I just need to learn to be content." That lie is the lie that made my heart sick with deferred hope.

Amazing! God so loved us and made us in His image that even He does not dishonor His creation by overriding the words of our mouth. Instead He he honors His gift to us by allowing the words we speak to take shape. If I speak complacency...my whole life submits to those words. I begin to walk life out in the tenor of a plateau.If I believe that "this is it"...then my body, my emotions, and my mind look for ways to confirm my words. Instead of looking (as Graham Cooke says) for the Hand of Kindness coming toward me each day I was looking for the hand of disappointment to prove my words to be true.

Now, this really got me going. So, I quickly responded by asking for forgiveness and then I asked Papa another question. "So, what's the truth?"

Truth, "My love is enduring and I will never forsake you. I gave you the power of life and death in your tongue. You can continue as you are and out of My love I will bless you. If you want more, then it is time for you to speak more; I have already made provision for it."

Now that was a wake up call...literally. Could the shape of my life be dependent upon my words??

My life is bound by the Word. And since the Word now lives in me, the power to change my life is within me. If I want more, it is time to go beyond hoping...it is time to speak the "more." I get it... PROCLAIM THE GOOD NEWS for the Kingdom of God is at Hand!

My Longing

2008-06-29T20:57:00.000-04:00

May the "girls" be proud. I have stepped into the word that was set before me. They inspired me to embrace what He called good. So I write.

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when the desire comes, it is a tree of life." Proverbs 13:12

There is something precious I am contending for...there is a secret I am desperate to understand. It is the divine salve and the application thereof that has been applied to my heart so many times as it has grown sick from watching the doors of my life open to such incredible wonders, but have yet to enter the chamber of my deepest heart's desire.

I will not be content until the tree of life is producing healing in its leaves.

I don't know where this blogging will take me, but I commit to unveil the thoughts that provoke me to go deeper, thoughts that inspire me to listen harder, and thoughts that cause me to--unfailingly -- hope greater.

I will not be content until the tree of life is producing healing in its leaves.