Suffering ~ Dedicated to my friend, Wendi

No suffering is invited, at least not on the front end. Yet, like an intruder, she comes in. She pulls out rugs right from underneath us. She punches us in the stomach, taking our breath away for a moment that seems like eternity. She trips us up, shattering our hopes and dreams.
"Suffering" wreaks havoc in us and around us. Her taunts bait old lies of blame, shame, and accusation. She brings with her ingredients for hopelessness, bitterness, despair, disillusionment ... "Suffering," she brings with her a string of questions, yet no answers.
It seems that you, "Suffering," are here to stay. I cannot snuff you out. I cannot control enough, avoid enough, hide enough, bargain enough to keep you away...thus, "Suffering," come closer, and meet "Redemption."
"Redemption"enters the scene unsuspectedly, in the most ordinary ways (God in the womb of an impoverished simple girl). She quietly whispers invitations to deeper faith. "Redemption"does not respond to my demands for explanation or alleviation of "Suffering." She does not obey my calendar and schedule, but follows perfect timing.
"Redemption" mysteriously dances to the beat of a greater song. She curiously threads simple and ordinary stories, those exploited by "Suffering," into a greater story...the greatest story. "Redemption" paces herself to the rhythm of the wind and the breath of the Spirit. She intricately weaves the frayed, stained, worn out pieces of our lives, into a story that brings new meaning... Hope.
I don't know when "Redemption" will overpower "Suffering." I don't know when "Redemption" will shout "Victory!"... or perhaps I don't know when I will hear. I only know "Redemption" will win in the end.
"Suffering," you are here, but please beware, your ash will one day be beauty.
"Redemption"... Redeemer, Jesus, have your way with me.

Seeing Wonder

The cool , almost-autumn breeze seemed to sweep us along as we meandered through the woods. My youngest son and I were enjoying a walk together. Step by step, I found myself humbled by the teachings the Lord had in store for me.
"Let's play a game!" Eli shouted. Eli loves to make up unique games, so this was not a suprise. He playfully described the game to me, "Let's look for hidden faces. Look for objects that seem to form a face," as he quickly pointed an already formed face made out of two pebbles, a foot print, and a twig. For the next hour we played this game, finding smiley faces formed by spider webs, clouds, and other pieces of nature's wonder. Eli saw these smiles everywhere he looked. For a moment I stepped back, and I stopped my search. I watched him, as he ran from place to place explaining the faces to me. He pointed out acorns and pinecones placed in just the right positions. I would sqwat next to him as he held up a pebble against the back drop of the sky. He perfectly positioned his pebble, in the middle of two puffy clouded eyes, just above a branch, forming a long grin!
I soon realized that amongst our gigles and silliness was a little bit of wisdom. Eli reminded me that sometimes in life we need to look beyond the surface, pause, and look deeply, and sometimes what is there is more than what meets the eye! Secondly, Eli reminded me about perspective. Sometimes we need to take the time to see things from someone else's perspective. This may mean that I need to take the time to sqwat, or I might have to stand on my tip toes! Sometimes seeing something from another's perspective can open us up to a whole new world! Sometimes we can even see that maybe we were holding onto our perspective as the only perspective to be had. Sometimes, we need to step back, and be okay with not finding the perfect shapes in the clouds, while resting assured there is one who formed and knows every cloud and how it fits! Lastly, Eli reminded me to be alert and ready! Often times out of the mouths of babes, and out of the least suspecting, come lessons to be learned and wisdom to be gleaned! Be slow to dismiss another as a teacher, we just might be suprised who God uses in our lives! Thank you Lord for little ones with great faith!

Bulges and Grace

The other day I was thumbing through my mail and I came upon an add for "Miracle Underwear." The add stated: "Are you like the millions who believe in the power of magnets? Then you will know the power of 'Miracle Magnetic Underwear'... (I am not making this up!)...Underwear that slims your deriere. Underwear that hides those unslightly bulges. Do you want to appear slimmer? Then you will want 'Miracle Magnetic Underwear.'"
The kids and I giggled at the ridiculousness of the add. Of course my boys jumped on the opportunity to make all sorts of little boy jokes! But, it got me thinking. Far too often I have wanted the appearance of something versus the actual thing. I have wanted to "hide my bulges" and look a certain way to others. A way that presents myself as one without any bulges, or at least with less bulges than what I have. Am I fooled to think hiding "bulges" gets rid of bulges, or that noone else has "bulges"??
Okay, don't get lost in the "bulges"... what I really mean is, how often do we settle on an appearance of a good thing, without having the real deal? Longings are never truly satisfied when we resort to mere appearances and images. Longings are never satisfied when I hide. An image of godliness will never satisfy my soul's longing for redemption, relationship, security, significance!
When my children were young, my husband and I were involved in full time ministry. In my insecurity, I often caved in to the belief that my family needed to appear all together. I probably wouldn't have admitted this. In fact I probably would have insisted that we were transparent. Honestly, I wanted people to see me and my family as put together, doing things right, and well. We all have different images that we attempt to convey: orderly, fun-loving, calm, intellectual, insightful, organized, competent... you name it! We all hope to put our best foot forward and be received and loved. We all dislike (even fear) rejection.
I am learning more and more that what I really long for is not the image and the approval of others, but it is a heart and life that is being changed by an intimate relationship with Jesus, and His incarnate presence in the lives of others. The deal is, we can't do this alone. We can adapt our image. We can refine it and adjust it...but we cannot change our hearts and souls.
In ourselves we cannot provide what we truly long for. We need others to be grace to us. We need others to be like Jesus, willing to see our "bulges" in light of redemption, knowing He who began the good work in us, continues to shape and mold us! We need the experience of being grace to others. Frankly, as long as we hide our "bulges," and as long as we expect others to hide their "bulges," we starve ourselves from ever being satisfied. We were made to taste grace (though Jesus and others) and to be an aroma of grace to others.
So, "bulges" and all, here we are, remembering, there is one working in us and changing us more than skin deep, strengthening us beyond our fears, and moving us to shed our veneers! So tell me, why settle for anything less? Keep the magnets for the fridge!
Thanks nameless advertising company for reminding me of bigger, better, and "bulgier" things!

"Unfriending" Fear

Fear.

She betrays me over and over again, yet for whatever reason I treat her as a friend.

Her "what if's" distract me.

Her presence has brought familiarity ... a known in the face of uncertainty.

A warped sense of security?

Fear ... and me.

Together, we have crafted masks of posing and cloaks of hiding.

Together, we have danced a motionless dance of paralysis, and sung songs of voicelessness.

Fear.

Her chants and jingles are mantras of "have to's," "oughts," and "musts."

Like old melodies rehearsed over and over again, their meaning fades from my attention, yet

all the more they impact me.

Fear.

Her words become my mission, they justify my cause:

"Play it safe!"

"Trust noone!"

Life with fear ... is not life at all.

Perfect Love.

The enemy to Fear.

Fear dreads Perfect Love, she avoids Him all together.

Perfect Love banishes Fear.

Perfect Love will not entertain Fear's antics.

Perfect Love will not give a moments time to her lies.

Perfect Love knows who Fear really is, and with Perfect Love ... there is no room for Fear.

So while I entertain Fear, simply because she is familiar... Perfect Love waits to come in.

Perhaps it is time to "unfriend" Fear, and make more room and time for more Perfect Love?

It is time to invite Perfect Love in ... again and again.

Oh, and by the way... I think I might do the same with Worry...she's been stabbing me in the

back lately.

A Woman's Desperation

I don't think I have ever met a woman that is not desperate. I don't mean the desperation that we feel because of circumstances, or because of the wounds that we have self-induced, or that have been inflicted by the will of others. It is a desperation that runs much deeper. It is the desperation of the soul. The poverty and brokenness of the soul that when examined deeply reveals the etchings of eternity.
Most of us are unaware of our desperation until God's grace allows us to awaken to its existance, and even then His grace gives us only a glimpse. This is a most scary leg of the journey at first. It is that place in which our good deeds and spiritual images seem to run shallow, veneering compulsions to pursue attention, admiration, and value. How is it this comes as such a suprise to one who knows "All have sinned"? Is it possible that somewhere along the way of this "critical journey" we are betrayed by our own thoughts and feelings? Is it possible that in our state of salvation we become arrogantly blind to our ongoing need for repentance and dependence upon Christ? Those who are competent and self-reliant are at greatest risk. We become fooled by our own capabilities, and blind to our own capacity to sin. Worse we forget the sweet taste of grace and mercy that we need for sustanance. We forget that we have been loved. We forget that we are loved.
We are desperate, no matter if we are aware or not. The real dilemma is not in the shame of the desperation, which many of us have learned. But, the real dilemma is where we take our desperation with futile hopes of it being satisfied, or at least alleviated.
How we must remember, our woundedness has been met with the kiss of mercy through Jesus. Only in the intimacy of His embrace, moment by moment, can our hopeless desperation have hope, and in this hope we can be secure. Thus, our desperation can be invited out of its hiding. We can celebrate our desperation and snicker at old ways of victimhood. We can allow Jesus to meet our desperation with a kiss of mercy over and over again, and perhaps be changed all of the more, and once again know we are loved.

Little Thoughts on Bigger Things (James 2: 1-13)

Dear Ones, as believers of our glourisous Lord Jesus Christ, don't play the games of the world, following the rules of the world, showing favortism to some, and prejudice to others. This way is not the way you were intended to live. This is the natural way, the usual way, but not the way of Christ. You are not to rate and grade humans, as though some are more valuable than others. Don't show favortism to those who benefit you (the rich, the powerful, pretty, popular, prestigious). Don't use people as soul-less objects, extending a shallow favortism to those who make you feel good, or make you look good. People are not a commodity used for your agenda! This favortism is really all about you. You are drawn to certain people, people just like you. You are drawn to putting "you" first by relating only in your comfort zone. Your favortism is no more than self promotion. When you favor some over others you are putting your own interests, wants, and reputation over the way of love! Life becomes all about you! Come now, let us be honest. You know the people that you are drawn to, the people you hope to impress and please. You know what you are seeking to gain by favoring these people catering to their wants and ways.



What about the others? What about those who irritate you? Repulse you? What about those who are messy? What about the immigrant or the mentally illed? What about the addict? How do you treat them? Do you treat them one way when noone is looking, and another way when others might see? Do you treat them one way when you can "serve" them as some hero, and impose your ways upon them? How would you treat them if they moved in next to you? How do you treat them when your child plays with their children? How do you treat them when they need a friend? Is it loving to place people as "less than" because they look different, speak different, believe different, or come from across the boarder? You with hold from these people, and strip them of dignity with your imposing preferences and laws, with your pity. You insulate your own self interests with your ways, and you distance yourself from your own poverty.



What is this game? These rules? This way of relating? This is not the way of love. Listen, you have things all mixed up! This way of putting the self first by self promoting or self protecting. This is not the way of Christ! God has chosen those who the world considers impoverished: the foreigner, the outcast, the marginalized, the disposable, the unwanted. He has chosen these people to be His. Don't you see, you who have been chosen? You were once poor, thus He chose you! Remember your poverty and your desperation for Jesus. Remember, we are now rich becasue of the lavishing love of Jesus! Remember, you are still desperate for Jesus!



You are getting caught up in the wrong things! You have forgotten the grace that Jesus has given you! You are playing the games of the world! Remember, "love your neighbor as yourself"! This is the way of life. You once impoverished, have been made rich because of Jesus! Out of this generous gift, you can love others! You, have been changed and filled with all sort of riches rooted in the love of the Father. Extend this love that has satisfied your poverty, to the impoverished lives of others. This is the way of love, a way rooted and sustained in Jesus, His grace and love for you. This is loving deeply, beyond shallow and flippant "acts of kindness." Christ in you. Christ through you. Taste deeply of the mercy you have been extended through Christ, and allow this mercy to move and motivate you to be merciful to the poor, just as mercy, grace and love have been and continue to be extended to you.

Father God's love letter with lyrics

The Wilderness (pt. 1)

I love the beauties of nature: rainbows, fields of flowers, sunrises and sunsets, waterfalls, fresh green grass…but I just don’t like the wilderness.

Three months into marriage, my husband and I became “House Parents at a wilderness work camp in the deep woods of Ontario, Canada. Yes, the wilderness…with all of its beauty and wonder… and with all of its mosquitoes, black flies, black bears, and that which I am most afraid of…the field mouse. Augh. The wilderness.

When it comes to the wilderness…times of trials, darkness, loneliness, struggle, temptations…well, I don’t really like this kind of wilderness either. But, probably like most of you, I have had wilderness times throughout my life.

Several years ago I entered one of these wilderness times. I had been a follower of Jesus for a long time. I had trusted Jesus when I was six years old, however, many parts of my childhood, had never been talked about. My sense of identity was rooted mostly in my childhood relationships and their messages established early in life. A fear of abandonment taunted me even as a woman. The shame poisoned my sense of identity, with lingering messages such as: “you are too much” or “you will never be enough.” My view of God was severely tainted. Instead of a loving and gentle Father, I believed God to be harsh, distant, and demanding, and I the daughter who was never enough. Bitterness, even hatred loomed deep inside me, and seemed justifiable, yet I covered it with mask upon mask, and hoped that eventually I would be more than “saved from hell,” but also free. I did more. I served more. I pushed myself to be all that I could be as a wife, a mother, and a Christ follower. Then I entered the wilderness.

What has helped you press into your Father and root into His love during "Wilderness" times? Or perhaps you are seeking some encouragement because you find yourself in one of those times now. If so, the next couple of blogs I hope to share some of the things that helped me!

Looking forward to it! Blessings dear ones!

Hope

Have you ever found yourself asking "Why?" or "Why me?" This little phrase has been one I have uttered, shouted, and cried far too many times. Of course this phrase doesn't usually come to my lips at times of great undeserved grace or blessing. It doesn't come to mind when I am granted forgiveness or lavished with love. No, but it does arrive at times of pain, disappointment, and struggle. It seems such times are its stage. When the stage is set the little words dance and taunt me into doubt and disbelief. Have you ever been there?

When we first moved for my husband to begin attending seminary, we were filled with excitement and anticipation. We had sold most of our things, said good bye to dear friends, and were ready to walk the road of adventure. The first several months we found ourselves "jobless." My husband applied endlessly, day after day, only to receive rejection after rejection. While sitting in the office of the Department of Social Services, waiting for hours to apply for assistance, I asked "Why?" I was confused by "the Lord's lack of provision" and the perceived penalization for serving Him. It just didn't make sense to me. I was always taught, or at least believed, obedience leads to blessing. This was not blessing! I wrestled with feeling inadequate and forgotten. The voices of my childhood that condemned and shamed government assistance came to the forefront of my mind, and I found myself quicly sliding into a pit of hopelessness.

Years later, my perspective has changed to be a little clearer. Even that place of struggle was where I was meant to be, and within the struggle was a greater work happening, a work of freedom and redemption. Just as a dear brother once said, instead of "Why?" maybe there is a different question to be asked..."What? What is it you want to teach me Lord? What is it you want to do in me? Through me?" Slowly I am learning, indeed my God uses all things and where I am is no mere accident. Those things that most came to mind during that season were long lasting lies, even generational lies. That "desert time" drew out and exposed beliefs from the deeper parts of my heart and mind, beliefs that enslaved me.

Dear sisters I Pray that even "here", wherever "here" is, you, dear sister might find peace and comfort in the knowing our Father is not about to drop you, has not forgotten you, nor is too busy...but even in "this", He is working a good work in you.
Blessings.

God's whisper to Self-Hate

As a little girl I often prayed a prayer that went something like this: "God, please make people see me different from who I am." I prayed this prayer because I wanted to be seen and known by people, but I did not want people to see and know me as I knew myself. I saw myself as "bad." I believed I was defined by what others had spoken over me, or by their silence. I believed that the lack of affection and blessing I experienced was because of my lack of, or my too much-ness, or my not enough. I interpreted myself to be unwanted, disposable, defective, and at fault for the actions of others. My self-perception fueled my self-hate. God did answer my prayer, but not as I anticipated. He did give eyes to others to see me differently. Eyes to see me not as I saw, but to see me as He sees me.

How do you see yourself Beloved? Is your view true? When did you first learn these things?

We all carry messages and voices of the past within our minds and our hearts. No matter how long they have been around; no matter how often we have rehearsed them; and no matter how much they have been reinforced by others or circumstances ... many of these messages are lies. They speak about you ... but they are not true. Many of those voices are not the voice of our Father.

Who does your Father say you are? Not your earthly father... no, your Father who sees your heart and truly knows you.

Dear Daughter of Eve,
I have ransomed you because you are a treasure. I paid the the demand in full and beyond. I have made the way to unleash you from all that imprisoned you. All that you once owed ... I paid. I paid for the past, the present, and that which is to come. I stepped in and served your sentence for all that brought you guilt, so that you might be free. All that has been credited to me is yours. No longer are you a slave, desperate to pay your debt. No longer are you a slave defined by your debt. You are mine. You are my daughter and I, your Daddy. Your soul is clothed in the lace of a bride, pure and clean. Your body is like a temple, the place I have swept clean so that I might live. Within you I live and I continue my masterpiece upon your soul, heart, and mind not because of you, but because I am faithful. And because of who I am, you are full of power and strength. Yes, even in your weakness, I am there, ready to reveal a beauty beyond imagination ... my glory in you and through you.

Beloved, I am your Father who sees you, and knows your true name. I am your Father who formed you and delights in you. I formed you so that I might love on you and that you might know me more and more. I knit you together with dreams in mind, puposes of beauty and life. I do not change my mind when you are weak, trip, fall, or doubt. No, I am faithful, even if you are not. I wait for you. I pursue you. I knock again and again. I will not hide from you. I will not shame and condemn you. I long for you to be free and to be with me as I am with you.

I first loved you and I will love you first again and again.
Your Father.

A Big 2x4 and a Little Dust

He was a religious man. He could debate with the best of them! I guess today you would compare him to one who had been raised in a good ol fashioned church going family. He had been fed well because he was over flowing with knowledge on religious matters. He was the kind of guy that others might find intimidating. You know what I mean...the kind that just seems to have it together, and always gets the job done ... and done shiny and well. The kind of guy you kind of hate, but secretly (not that this author can relate) sometimes wish could be you. Anyhow this man seemed really good at noticing the faults and struggles of others. Every time someone would trip ... he was the first to see! Nothing got past him! He would notice, judge and shame. Another man, who was quite ordinary appearing, yet quite extrodinary, in fact Divine in human form, took opportunity to shed a little bit of light on this man's quandry, a simple illustration: a 2x4 (plank) and dust. He told this man that before he could dig out the little speck of dust out of the eye of another, it was critical to first get the plank out of his own. Now what in the world was the teacher talking about, and can we relate?

One season, a season of healing, this story hit me fresh and new. (That's just how the Spirit works...encounter Him with His word...He's unstoppable!) I inventoried all of the ways I had been loved poorly by others. I was noticing all of the ways that I had been disregarded and wounded. All of these events seemed so potent and defining to me. I rehearsed alot of these events. I rehearsed their messages about me, others, and God. The grief journey (much needed) ushered me into the journey of personal "plank" discovery. The "wounds" of my life seemed to be perfect reason to blame and rationalize. Yes, I said it, the collection of specks (wounding actions of others) seemed great enough to justify my plank, and from my perspective my plank was the speck! I was quite convinced that my plank would not even exist if it weren't for everyone else acting according to their specks! The truth cut past my veneer of victimhood, and deeply penetrated into my soul, me--a woman ... my plank existed, and it ran deep. It impaired my vision on how I saw life, people, myself, and God, and I lived as though I had no choice about my plank! The truth is, even if we blame our planks on others...they are still there, and honestly even if we would have been loved perfectly... we still would have some kind of plank (remember our distant mother Eve? She was loved perfectly!)
Can you imagine a plank in your eye...really? How would you do anything? Sisters, how we need to stop the charades and admit our planks. How we need to be free from the secret justifications (aka blame) for our planks. Sisters how we need our planks removed so that we might see ... with truth. A dear person wisely suggested to me on this matter, "Perhaps it is not merely you who takes out the plank ... perhaps your plank is being dissolved, little by little, by the work of Jesus in you." Wait! We have planks, we need them removed, but we cannot remove them on our own?? What hope we have ... there is one who is more devoted to removing our planks!

Sisters, remember your first love ... He who has seen and known your plank all along, and loved you even still. Remember your first love who allured you to repentance with kindness, instead of shame and condemnation. Remember your first love, He who awakened you from your deadened state of numbing and/or performing. Remember your first love, He who initiated, called, and waited, and waited for you. Yes, your first love. Here's to a day to noticing our first love's work in us. Let us remember, that as life's circumstances arrive ... none is just by chance ... but each and everyone used in the hand's of our first love to slowly dissolve the plank and restore the vision intended.

No matter What by Kerrie Roberts

Baggage... Bondage or Blessing?

We all have it...baggage. No, not the luggage, purses, or bags that we so often pack full of essentials. No, baggage ... the kind that we often forget that we are carrying. This baggage is full of messages that we replay over and over again about ourselves, God, and others. This baggage is full of the names that we have been called, names of humiliation and regret. This baggage is full of hidden memories, details seared onto our hearts, minds, and souls. This baggage is full of secret questions, doubts, and fears. What do you do with your baggage? I spent many years convincing myself that my baggage had never really impacted me, if it had really existed as baggage at all! All the while, I carried not one bag... but a whole luggage set everywhere I went! Much of my energy was drained by my efforts to lug my baggage close to my side, contain it, hide it, polish it, and pretend it away. Sometimes I would trip on my baggage, and sometimes my baggage tripped up others. Baggage. The worse thing about baggage is when it blocks your view. With my baggage, I just could not see clearly. No matter how hard I would look, my view was impaired. Baggage. When it comes to baggage, do we have a choice? Really? Don't be fooled ... we all have it, but what are you going to do with it? Is it possible that our baggage, the things that once brought bruising and bondage, can actually bring blessing? Yes! Is it possible that interwoven with the grief there is deep hope? Yes! Is it possible that out of the places of desolation and isolation one can experience the love of the great Consolation? Yes! For my dear sisters who hide her baggage deeply away, carrying a burden not meant to be carried alone, my heart is in prayer for you today. The shame of such baggage only brings a bondage that you were never intended to bear. Praying that today, you might encounter the grace needed to share your baggage with another, that slowly piece by piece each might be changed from bondage to blessing. That in each baggage you might personally know and experience your true love who was with you when you first picked up the bag, and before.

"What is REAL?"

THE VELVETEEN RABBIT by Margery Williams
“The Mechanical toys were very superior, and looked down upon everyone else; they were full of modern ideas and pretended they were real. The model boat, who had lived through two seasons and lost most of his paint, caught the tone from them and never missed an opportunity to refer to his rigging in technical terms… Even Timothy, the jointed wooden lion, who was made by the disabled soldiers and should have broader views, put on airs and pretended he was connected with Government. Between them all the poor little rabbit was made to feel very insignificant and commonplace, and the only person who was kind to him was the Skin Horse.”
“What is REAL?” asked the rabbit one day … “Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When (Someone) loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with (you), but REALLY loves you, then you become real.”
“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit. “Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are “Real” you don’t mind being hurt.” “Does it happen all at once, like being wound up or bit by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are REAL, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out, and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are REAL you can’t be ugly, except to those people who don’t understand.” (pages 15-17)

Inviting Man into His Strength

con't WOMAN, INVITING MAN INTO HIS STRENGTH

5. Leave the game playing to "Hasbro". Value men enough to speak clearly, directly, and honestly. If you aren't sure, than simply say that. Resist the temptation to read between the lines, search for codes, or speak in some sort of coded language hoping others will catch onto what you really mean, think or feel.

6. Unplug and plug-into the source. There is a temptation for woman to expect man to meet her deepest longings. Some expect man to name her, form her identity, deem her value, secure her present/future, and fix her past. No man can love you like that. Plug in to the Lover who can.

7. Keep him On the radar, but not the North Star! Men are not intended to set the course of your compass.
Fix your eyes upon your true Love, Jesus. Any and every man will fail you, just as you and every woman will fail man.


8. Know your stuff! Develop your beliefs and convictions. Know your own issues. Know your dreams, passions. Know what nourishes your soul and what doesn't. Know your weaknesses, your strengths, and your limits. Know your likes, dislikes, hopes, fears ...

9. Admit it... you aren't Superwoman. Don't deny your needs. Having needs does not make you "needy."Allow yourself to be known to Brothers that are safe, and receive their love.

10. Bounce back quickly.

11. Leave the thin skin to the reptiles.

12. Devote yourself to peace making (vs. peace keeping). Don't avoid conflict as a means of self preservation or fear of rejection. This is not peace making, but peace keeping. Making peace is a choice to live with integrity, to be true to personal convictions, and to engage differences, negotiations, and conflicts with peace as the end goal.

11. EXPECTATIONS + EXPERIENCE = SATISFACTION. Don't expect your strength to change man, but expect to be changed more and more by the power of your first love.
Daughter's of Eve, what are your thoughts? How do we as women invite men into their strength?

Inviting Man into His Strength

Do weak women yield stronger men?

Daughter's of Eve, probably all of you, married and single have encountered the awkwardness of an insecure man. This man may have resorted to methods of escape, disengagement, or the secrets of a hidden life. This man may monopolize, dominate, and control with rigidity. This man may live in the swamps of ambivalence. This man may wear a mask of arrogance or of fear and timidity. No matter the design of the external mask, behind each dwells a man in pain, desperate longing to be as God intended, a hero with a greater purpose.

How does woman respond to such encounters with man? Far too often insecure women react to insecure men with: "I am woman hear me roar...I will shout to prove my voice!" Other times it is the "wall flower response": "I cannot step it up, move forward, take intitiative, engage deeper, for the sake of man." (huh?) Are either of these responses woman's strength (or are these actually woman's excuses to shield her from her own fears)? Do either of these invite man into his strength? Is this the alliance God intended? Must woman fight against man to somehow make him step it up? Must woman demean and baby man so that he might feel good about himself with an artificial sense of security? Perhaps there is another response. Perhaps a response rooted in a deep love and a secure identity. A strength inviting a strength.

A few thoughts on how woman might invite man into his strength:

1. Be woman, and not man. Allow man to be man, and that is to be different! Far too often woman's efforts to be strong are no more than insecure pursuits to be like men. This does not invite man into his strength, nor is this the strength God intended for woman. Woman's expression of God's heart and God's image is unique to her and essential for the heart of man. Her beauty, a "quiet and gentle spirit" (IPeter 3:4) does not mean she is passive, docile, ignorant and voiceless. Her strength, is a strength originated with her Lord, and planted within. Her voice is purposed in the whispers of her Lord. Her strength is a soul that is well and at rest. Woman's strength is a hope, peace, and gentleness rooted in intimacy with her first love, the Creator, her Savior.

2. Be Safe. Do you really want men to open up and be transparent? Wives, do you really want your husbands to be open with you about their fears or their struggles? Do you ask, and then punish emotionally if the answer scares you? Be safe. Be incarnate. Choose to be a conduit of grace. How? Admit your inclination to judge, fix, deny, dismiss. Admit your tendencies to explode, withdraw, manipulate, or control. Be slow to speak and quick to listen. Listen deeply to the truest questions, those lurking behind the white noise. Do not allow truth to escape your lips without the comrad of grace.

3. Remember "the log and the speck" principle. Before we take notice of the speck in our Brother's eye, take notice of the log in your's. We all have blind spots. Humbly cooperate with the Spirit to dissolve the logs in your eye, and remember anyone with a log in there eye is probably not going to see everything clearly. This humility invites man into his strength, a shared strength of Jesus' sufficient grace. Such humility drains woman's drive to be the "dripping faucet," picking, nagging, and judging.

4. Put the ledger and score card away! No one wins when we keep score of wrongs. Devote yourself to not be a record keeper, but a warrior for the quest of love. Keep short accounts with one another, allow love to cover the non essentials (which are more than we usually realize), and if you are unsure, check-in and ask.

More to come...What are your thoughts???

True Beauty

As a little girl I loved to escape to the fields of flowers blanketing the hills of my Grandmother's backyard. These flowers speckled the hills of bright colors: yellow buttercups, daisies, and purple clovers. At times I would find myself lost in their beauty. I would relish in the careful picking of each stem making sure each to be just the right length to fit within the carefully formed bouquet. When I close my eyes, I find myself right there in the fields. I imagine the sun's warmth kissing my skin, and the sweet music of nature all around me. On such days my Grandmother would exchange my bouquets for a tall glass of iced tea and admiringly place the flowers in a tall glass up against her front window for all to see, to delight in their beauty.

Perhaps every woman possesses a deep desire to bring a bit of beauty and life to her part of the world. Perhaps this is merely one of the ways in which woman uniquely bears the image of her Creator. I don't mean to speak of the kind of beauty we see plastered on every news stand magazine. I am not referring to the airbrushed and lypo suctioned kind of beauty. No, it is the greater beauty, the beauty our souls long for. The beauty that the senses of our souls delight in.

Single, married, divorced, widowed, young or old, every woman longs to birth and to give life. We long to bring life to places of desolation and hope to despair. We long to leave more than an impression of beauty upon the roads that we travel. We long to leave marks of beauty that are long lasting, rooted deeply into the lives of those we love.

What is this beauty? Woman's beauty is seen in her voice for the voiceless and care of the broken. Her beauty is a unique blend of justice and mercy. Her beauty blesses when others curse. Her beauty deems "dignity" when others deem "disposable". Her beauty is seen in her endurance through times of disappointment, and her faith at times of betrayal. Her beauty is her extension of grace , her plight of hope, and her offering of forgiveness. Her beauty is her authenticity when masking and posing would be easier. Her beauty stirs the hearts and souls of those around her to long for more and to be more.

Dearest Daughters of Eve, this is the beauty that we long for, and are intended for.

God's whisper to the Fear of Abandonment

Dearest Daughter of Eve,

I will never leave you nor turn my back on you. You are mine. The waters will not overtake you. You will not drown. I am your life boat keeping you a float. The flames will not burn you. I am your shelter and protector. You are my treasure. I have pursued and ransomed you. I am your knight and your warrior.

Wherever you go, I am with you. I see you, because I am El Roi, the God who sees. I do not live in a distant land far from you. I am always available to you. I am before you (leading), behind you (protecting), and within. I am with you. Be with me.

I am forming you new. You are like my hand crafted jar of clay, my fingerprints are pressed upon you, and I fill you. You are a poem, a work of art, and I the Master Artist. The strokes of my brush bring brillint colors and light to the canvas of your life. Such beauty. Because of my love and delight, I initiated this work of redemption long, long ago. I carefully craft the thread of redemption all throughout your life. I am devoted to this work in you and through you. I take the debts and transform into assets. What you see as ash and dust, I use to create beauty. The desert places, I will turn to lush fields of flowers and life. Nothing is too much for me. You are not too much, nor too little.

When I created the world ... you were on my mind. I had thoughts about you. I had and have a plan for you. A perfect plan of lasting beauty and life. I intricately knit you together. You are wonderfully formed according to the purposes and dreams that I have for you! Your deepest longings, they call for me. I wrote them upon your heart.

My love for you is unshakeable and firm. Nothing can get in the way of my love for you. Nothing can separate my love from you. There is no wall, no veil, no choice, no wound, no habit ... nothing. Your name is written upon the palms of my hands. Like a mother with her nursing baby, even my body remembers you, your needs, your hunger. I dream for you. I delight in you. I sing over you. Are you listening?

When you stray I pursue you. When you turn from me, I pursue you. I wait for you to call my name and turn to me. I long to be compassionate to you. When you are desperate and want to return, I am ready to run to you.

Daughter of Eve, you are beautiful. You are a fragrant aroma of life. You are light. You are accepted. You are my Beloved. I love you.

Love, God your Father.