Beginning End

 

Good habits, form I did not.  I began this journey from the back to beginning.  Began at the ever busy end.  Began with too much responsibility, too much upon my shoulders, too much confidence.  Certainly too much pride.  Pride in what?  What did I know?  What did I have to show?

I look back now at the beginning end of my early late days and wonder at what I wrought.  So sure I could.  Certain I would.  Began at the masterpiece and began backwards and upside down.  And good habits I did not have down.  

I began in the height of hurry, busy and do ~ care for so many.  

Write the story.  When the letters I did not yet know to make.  Run the marathon, when I had yet to know how the basic step to take.  Nurture all the tiny, precious souls, when mine was yet still infantile for goodness sake.

Good Habits.  I did not yet know.  At the end I began.  With the masterful story, the marathon, the multitude of many I did make.  And I yet was but a silly babe.  A letter, a step, a care I could not yet take.

It would be the end at the beginning.  The end of what I confidently knew I could do . . . 

But, here in the middle of the end's beginning I do know I can not a thing do without You.  And maybe the undoing of my end at the my very beginning was the gift . . .

To know I can not . . . Yet You can, And You do.  Thank You.

I Have Moved

I am back-ish and I have moved here ~ 

Delight Is In The Doing

Please follow me at the above link and be sure to read the About, as it will help you determine if you would like to continue to read my blog.

If you care to you, be sure to resubscribe from this new site, add email to the link at the bottom of the new page.

The Kindest Thing I Have Ever Seen

John 4 ~

She has always been this wondrous thing, this marvel of marvels, this woman at the well.  Her story, we do know a few of the sordid details.  Things were not as they ought to have been ~ the whispering, wagging tongues toted that tale all over town.  This woman at the well, all the women did know and all the wagging tongues did tell ~ she was not as she was suppose to be.  And all the whispering women make this woman at the well all the more wondrous.  She was not as she was suppose to be.

She went alone to the well that day, quite possibly to avoid all the finger wagging women.  She went alone to the well and she would learn a thing or two about true, living water.

The world constantly reminded woman at the well that she was not what she ought to be.

Five husbands and now another.  Adulterer.

But, He met her there at the well.  What a Wonder.  Taking a cup of water from an adulterer.  He certainly is the Wonder of the world.

I too know the long stares, the whispering, wagging tongues.  I was, I am not what I ought to be.  I do and did know better, but yet, I have faltered.

And I too have walked to many wells, alone.  So wanting to avoid the whispering, the murmurings.  Solitary sinner, woman at the well.  I know this place oh so well.  And that is why she and He, are such a beautiful wonder at the well.

Solitary sinner could not handle another long stare so she ventured out into solitude.  And this wayward woman would meet the Wonder of the world at that well.

The Wonder of the world.  He met her that day, He purposed a path to meet this solitary sinner for He desired, intended to share His saving grace with solitary sinner.

Oh, the church does whisper about the woman at the well.  We tell her sordid story, we sip coffee over her every slip, her mis-step.

But, the Wonder of the world does not whisper, He simply meets with woman at the well.  And He tells her a new tale ~ a tale of silenced murmurings and offered mercy.

The Wonder and the woman at the well.  Oh, fantasy turned reality.  Wonder and the woman at the well.

He is so sweet to taste, after long droughts of thirst.  And after the parched throat swallowing down all the whisperings, the murmurings ~ now the sweet of His offered living water.  Soothing balm to her parched lips and cracking throat.

~

I sat there silenced.  The priest covered in ink and with a few sordid stories of his own, he said these words that silenced my soul, chilled me to the bone.  "We know there are many Christian women seeking abortions because they can not face the shame from the church.  Pastor fathers taking daughters to kill grand babies because they can not face the shame given by congregations."

I sat, silence sinking like ice into my soul.

What have we done?  Oh sweet Jesus, what have we done to the woman at the well?  The solitary sinner.  What have we done to You?

Babies murdered because they know no mercy will be offered.  What have we done?

I sat, silence sinking into my solitary sinner soul.

I have been sordid sinner sitting solitary.  And, I am certainly sure I have been murmuring member of the "body" offering shame rather than mercy.  Oh, what have I done?

Savior slips me back into the details of that day.  Slips me into the sordid story and shows again how Savior meets with sinners.  And He tells me, this is as you are to do ~

You go into the highways and byways, to the wells where solitary sinners sit and languish lonely over their unquenchable thirst.  You offer them living water, not judgmental whisperings.  You extend a hand of mercy, not condemning murmurings.  They have faltered.

And I do so deeply remember the day at the well He met with me in all of my failings, all of my faltering.  You met me there and revealed to me the Wonder of the world.

I remember, I am woman at the well and I am whispering woman as well ~ I have been both and You met me anyway.  Oh, the Wonder of the world.

~

Often the church can be merciful to the lost but surely merciless to our own.  "Well, she knew better."  And certainly to be true ~ I knew better and yet, I still stumbled.  And the church was brutal in their pummeling in my stumbling.  And yet, I have turned at times and said the same words, "Well, she should have known better."  Oh, the hypocrisy in one soul can be terribly frightening.

But, I wondered at this maxim of ours, 'They knew better,' as we throw a few stones at the sinner.  The sinner who knew better, raised in a Christian home, has a faith foundation ~ how dare they falter!  I wonder at our stones and our justifications.

That day at the well, with the woman whom sat alone to avoid the whisperings ~ she said this thing, ". . . our father Jacob . . . Sir, I perceive that You are a prophet.  Our fathers worship here . . . "  And then she said this, "I know that Messiah is coming . . . He will tell us all things." (vs 12, 19, 25)

This woman at the well whom sat with the Wonder of our world ~ she certainly knew a thing or two of the faith.  Our father, Jacob.  Our fathers worship.  Here we have one who "knew," she knew better.  She knew the lingo, the vernacular of our religiosity ~ prophets and such!  She "knew" better!  Woman at the well, "knew better."

I held my breath ~ certain that my Wonder would throw no stones.  But, she knew better.  And I sat as woman at the well, adulterer with those sordid six affairs, that solitary sinner.  But, yet I stood a few feet away with stone in hand.  You see, I have been both ~  solitary sinner with all the sordid stories and I have been the stone thrower as well.

And my Wonder, has been neither.  I have been both.

I watched from both angles ~  saying not a word, taking not a breath.

What would the Wonder of the world do?  She certainly knew better, should I toss Him a stone?  But, solitary sinner aches for a gentle touch, a kind word.  I have certainly been, am still today ~ both.

Saying not a word, watching breathlessly.  As both, I can not see what the answer should be.

But, He does this thing, this marvelous thing.  The kindest thing I think I have ever seen.  To solitary sinner sitting at the well our Wonder reveals Himself as Savior for the first time ever!  There are no stones and yet, the sin He does not condone.  Rather He reveals Truth and peels back the veil from a mystery of the ages and He reveals Himself to that woman at the well!  Woman whom went alone to the avoid the whisperings and He met her and for the first time as we know ~ He declares Himself as Messiah!  (vs 26)

It is quite unfathomable.  Sordid stories received no blows by stones.  Her sin was not condoned but Wonder of the world threw no stones that day or any other day.

His response was all mercy and goodness.  The kindest thing I have ever seen.

Romans 2:4 ~ "for the goodness of God leads us to repentance."

As woman at the well and the stone thrower ~ I witnessed the kindness thing I have ever seen.

He reveals mystery untold that day at the well.  To solitary sinner with all the sordid stories.

To the church it was unthinkable, unconscionable and unacceptable to even pass a word with such a woman.  And yet, He offers mystery revealed and living water to that woman at the well.

And all our maxims about, "knowing better" and "faith foundations" ~ our justifications as we lob a stone, or pass a rumor, or isolate a sinner whom "should have known better"?  Well, I see with stone in my hand ~ we are just solitary sinners with stones.  All one in the same ~ sinners who have faltered ~ all who have but one Savior.  And our Savior never throws stones at a sinner.

A woman at a well or a woman walking into a clinic.  What would the Wonder of the world say?

"I who speak to you am He."  Your Messiah.  Your Savior.  Your Living Water.  (vs 26)

And the truth that she "knew better" is no matter.  He came to save sinners and we ALL are such.

Church can we lay down the stones?  Never throw at each other?  She faltered, she fell.  She knew better, but that was no matter.  He saves us all the same.

Oh Jesus, our Wonder of the world ~ forgive us for the tiny ones lost for the Mamas who could not face the shame we gave.

Oh Jesus, forgive us our sordid stories and our stones thrown.  You, Savior offer nothing but goodness that causes repentance.

That day at the well.  From both perspectives.  I saw Him do the kindest thing I have ever seen.

Cause us to do the same Jesus!

Just Around the Bend

Did you know it is but half a mile?  My slow sojourn over dry, dusty ground ~ but half a mile.  The rhythm would surely weary some, a slow steady trudging but a handful of feet to turn and return just as I had come.

Thy rhythm of but half a mile might wear on some, but my slight slice of road, is a slight slice of heaven.  Just a sliver of ethereal and my heavy footfalls fall are oh, so grateful for my sliver.

Dry, dusty road runs with the stream.  Trees and greenery abound.  Today, deep into the midst of earth's flowery bloom there are brilliant splashes of color expertly spread about.  Stream runs, ever running telling me tales of a better place, babbling stories of Grace.

In the rhythm of the run, the running water runs much of my worries and cares away.  In my slight slice of heaven, as sun sparkles on stream, I feel there is so much more than meets the eye.  I run in slight slice of heaven, heavy footfalls fall deep into Hope and Faith.

But, do you also know that this slight slice where I sojourn, ends at pack of crazed dogs?  Just right there, just around the bend are crazed canines that would certainly, gladly tear me from limb to limb.

I make my turn just before they would be visible to me, and I to them.

Many footfalls fall under their noise and clamor of their desirous growling.  I hear their angry cries often, demanding of me in their growling.

Just right there, just around the bend.  I mark my turn by their snapping jaws and very angry calls.

I sojourn my slight slice of heaven, a bit of ethereal splendor just on the border of their crazed frenzy.

Under the chill of the early morning light I wondered at this reality, my reality.  It seemed a bit odd to trudge and traipse through His beauty just around the bend from what might certainly be my death or at least my maiming.  Strange.  A bit odd.  Some would say possibly unwise.  And yet, not only did my trudging under their snarling NOT feel unwise, it felt necessary.  As if to say to their angry cries, their demanding of my flesh growling ~ I will not be forced as prisoner in my home.  And, you can NOT steal my slight slice of heaven.  You do not have that power over me.

I continued on at their cries, turned and made my way through wonderful sliver He has gifted me and then I heard Him say ~
           "He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty."  (Psalm 91:1)

Slight smile now carried me a few more yards.  This is us, this is His people, His remnant.  We labor and toil under the Son and He gifts us our slight slice of heaven we sojourn through ~ our Secret Place.  

And yes, we do know our Secret Place is surrounded my crazed pack of canines.  We hear their calling cries, we do know they aim to maim or just to steal, kill and destroy.  But, we trek through our days knowing and believing they can not alter our ways.  His ways.  The things He has given us to do, our slight sliver of heaven ~ He gifted it and we shall not allow them to steal it.

In our present climate I hear the snap of their vicious bite in startling and terrifying intensity.  The pack appears to have multiplied, grown rapidly in these few days, short weeks into several months.  But, against the Cross of Christ their angry cry is all bark and no bite and we must not give even an inch of our slight slice, give not way to fear at their foul cry.  The pack is yapping, crazed and frenzied for they know their time draws nigh.

I do know their incessant, crazed cries can be slightly overwhelming but this it no time for us to cower under their cries.  He has gifted us our sliver, our slice, our Secret Place and we must sojourn our sliver with full confidence in He who is able to keep us.

I trudge a trail under His blazing Son ~ a slight slice of heaven, just around the bend from their demanding cries.  He knew it would be as such for a season on this broken, spinning globe and underneath His Son blazing down He gifted us our Secret Place, our sliver.

Let us walk in it, run in it, rejoice in it and carry it out to this broken down world about.  They are desperate for just a taste, a glimmer of what we carry in our heart.

" . . .  He has placed eternity in their hearts . . . "  (Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Grace of the Ages

There on that hard packed dirt road, he flew just past me.  Just right there, just right before me.  Alighted high atop a tree, he did.  Dry, dusty road and sun blazing hot down and there he was just above.  Middle of the sun blazing day, he came to rest just there before me.

Grace.  Grace of the ages in those wings spread reaching, climbing through the air.  Grace of the ages in the middle of the sun blazing down day on that dusty road.

He landed high to the right of me, I froze daring not to break the majestic spell that had just alighted to the right of me.

His back was all he showed, at first, but I waited silently.  He knew I was there.  I waited, as statue, waited for the majesty of the moment to look full at me.  And then, just then in the middle of the sun blazing down day he turned those eyes upon me.  Grace of the ages in those spread wings and wisdom of the cosmos in those round, wide orbs.  He looked full on me, me frozen on hard packed dirt road.  He looked full on me and certainly deep within me, that sagacious creature knowing a depth of truth and creation that I have not yet even begun to scratch the surface of that knowing.

Under that sun blazing down day, he and I stared in a full knowing for an eternity of a moment.  He who certainly knew that he ought to have stayed under the cover of night, he had ventured this journey over my dusty day and laboring run.  I was quite certain he had been sent to turn those round orbs to me ~ to look full well into me with an unwavering glance.

We live in a world where we are almost always seen, yet hardly ever known.

And yet there he was, watching and knowing.  Me.  

In our present world of pages full of friends and likes and yet, so few feel even known at all.  And certainly not truly 'liked'.  We exist in a society that rarely knows how to slow for anything and certainly can not slow to know a someone in their reality.  In this world, I think we may have felt isolated long before this present 'forced isolation.'  We have languished long at being unseen long before we were told we had better not be seen.

Were we ever really known?  Even before this madness of forced hiddenness, had not we already felt hidden from any true knowing of one other?

And I have run many long, lonely miles down long, lonely lanes in my days.  Unknown.  Irrelevant.  Certainly not needed.  Long, dusty miles on lonely lanes through a tucked away, hidden life.  Buried under a world too wild for me to be seen and lost under this load of aloneness, and surely lost under loads of laundry.  Wondering under the buried-ness of it all ~ does He ever really see me?  With the millions into billions of masses and with the so very little bit of usefulness I offer, how can He care to see me?  Down long, lonely miles in a tucked away and seemingly insignificant existence, what is there for Him to really see?

And what was it in those wise eyes, under the sun blazing day, looking full well right into me that spoke of His eyes ever on me?  I am not entirely sure and yet, there it was, the Truth of the ages on that dusty, dirt road ~ His eyes are ever on me and there is no turning, no glancing away.  He ever looks upon me; down long, lonely miles in my fairly insignificant moments into years, He never looks away.  That Godly glance is always upon me.

And as the world spins quiet these days, do you know His Godly glance is always upon you?  Has your globe stopped galloping about enough for you to see His goodness that was always about?

I do so wish you had been with me there, under the middle of the sun blazing down day.  With me when He looked full well into my soul and did not turn away.  Oh, how lovely it would have been for you to have seen the grace alight atop the tree, if you could have seen that with me.

I wonder at the losses.  All the loss.  All about.  But then, there was that Godly glance just there, that eye upon me that spoke that it will never leave me, never turn from me.  All the loss may yet just bring us such a gain, such a Godly gain.  What would it mean if we could all see, begin to truly see His eye ever upon us?

The losses are real ~ mortal enemy waging war against our mortal bodies, vicious attack against our personal liberties and certainly so much economical loss.  But, as the world slows its spin and in the midst of the stillness of it all, if we finally do see His Godly glance that has ever been upon us, then certainly it is all to our GAIN.  Eternal gain to know His glance upon our mortal frame.  All for our gain, loss at the temporary that gives into the eternal is for our gain.

I encourage you, challenge you to set out to find His ever upon you Godly glance.  Eyes wide open, hearts full of expectancy, we journey out to find His eye ever upon us.  Upon you.

And that moment of an eternity, under the middle of the sun blazing down day, he whom ought to have been wise enough to stay under the guise of the night, he turned and looked full well into me.  And under His eye, His ever present eye, His Godly glance I run down long, lonely lanes and certainly sojourn a dusty path or two ~ but never without His eye ever upon me.  Always knowing me full well, and loving me yet.

It is all to our gain, this present loss, if our world slows just a bit and we fully and finally see that Godly glance that has always just alighted upon me.  Upon you.

Suggesting A Crown

Something suggesting a crown.  Suggestive of royalty.  A crown.  Suggesting Kingship.  Suggestive of our king.

There is so much in a word.

Corona ~ something suggesting a crown.  (Merriam-Webster)

Look it up.  There is far too much in a word for us to not know what we are dealing with.  A fake.  A faux.  A liar masquerading as a king, our king.  Demanding that the entire world bow in fear, bend a knee in anxiety.  He is a fake, a liar.  A master masquerader.

It is only suggestive of a crown, it is NOT a true crown.  It is NOT our King, we know Who rightly wears the crown.

But, a word does hold much meaning and power when given the authority to hold that power.

The enemy of mankind is yet again, masquerading as a king.  Wearing a faux crown, demanding our knees bend to him and his false kingship.  It is an age old game he has run, routing against man.  He has always attempted to fool man into believing he is more than he is and he often succeeds in the foolish game because we rarely slow to listen to the words actually being spoken.  To stop and pause and determine is this a faux crown or our real Crown speaking?  We are duped because we run too hard and too fast after the things of this world to be able to steady ourselves to hear and receive Truth.  There is a constant bombardment of words, false words being spoken in our world.  Far more fake and faux royalty running about then we would care to believe.  We bend our knee, we cower or grab greedily at the faux crowns about.  We are guilty of both ~ cowering and greedily grasping, depending upon the false words around us.

Our flesh is facing its own mortality and quakes and quivers at every possible threat.  But yet, it is also that very same flesh that grabs greedily at the faux crowns of luxury and leisure.  We run the gamut on allowing ourselves to be drawn in by false words.  Words offering a fake kingship, a false security, a faux universe unto ourselves that we rule and reign.  It is all deception.

2 Corinthians 11:14 ~ " And no wonder, for even Satan masquerades as an angel of light."

Or a king wearing a crown.  Suggesting that he has kingship, that he wears the crown.

He is a liar, a fake.  And he only takes and occupies this faux kingship in our lives when we permit it.  We have to give him the authority that he deceives us into believing that he already has.

And we often give up place to him through words.  Words that we speak and words that we absorb into our being.  Words do have power.  And here is why   ~

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God . . .  And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth."  John 1:1,14

All the Goodness of heaven wrapped itself in our feeble flesh and walked beside us and as the power of the cosmos sat and supped with us we began to behold His glory.

The glory of the Word become flesh.  The Word.  Wrapped in our feeble flesh to allow us, enable us to behold His glory.

It was likely something that we were unable to see without the packaging of our feeble flesh ~ too glorious for our frail and fragmented faculties to absorb.  Too glorious to behold without the familiar flesh encasing it.

The glory of the Word become flesh.  It is unthinkable as to what He forsook, what He endured to be wrapped as us.  To allow us, enable us to see more clearly.  And even then it would be years, decades for many to know what they had beheld.  And many who walked and talked with the Word wrapped in our feeble flesh would still never allow themselves to see.

But these years into a few millennias later some of us do see the glory of the Word wrapped in flesh.  But, those very same often miss the tremendous power behind every word spoken, received, read and sent.  And there is so very much buried into the millions of masses of words we hear spoken all around us.  We rarely slow to listen to the words flying around us, to stop and wonder at the meaning of them all.  Which is a travesty and in our present moment in time ~ a global travesty.

The God of the universe tells us His son is the Word and then we carelessly and flippantly throw words around as if they are nothing.  Empty.  We speak and type, we listen and read, we consume words as if they are empty.  Nothing.  Yet, in this barrage of words we feast on the vast majority of words we consume and digest are TOXIC & DEADLY.  And we absorb this toxicity into the very meat and marrow of our bones, into our homes.  All these toxins, all the time.

Proverbs 18:21 ~  "Death and life are in the power of the tongue . . . "

It will be either one or the other.  Death or life.  In the words we consume.  In the words we pour forth.  Death or life.  Words are not a matter of neutrality.  Words have power, words have meaning.

And to the beginning of this all ~ this current word that consumes much of our world ~ it is a fake, a faux.  A father of lies masquerading as a king.  Suggestive of a crown.

We know Whom wears the crown.  It is King Jesus.  The Word became flesh and dwelling among us. Let us put our King in His rightful place and use words wisely and sparingly.  

A World In Respiratory Distress

Again and again ~ I have so many things to say and yet, nothing at all.  But, I will trust that if you have perchance stumbled upon these words it is because He intended you to read them and maybe you might even need them.

What is He saying right now to His people?  To His bride?  Oh, so many terribly, wonderful things and quite a few terribly, terrifying things as well.  And so often as He speaks a shock of terror and wonder runs deep through our veins.  As we listen to the immortal God, our own mortality shakes and quivers under the reality of His tremendous power.  It is a shock of terror to the flesh and a shock of wonder to the spirit.  And quite possibly that is exactly what we need in our present day ~ our flesh to take its rightful place, recognizing its own mortality and to fall in line behind our spirit man.  Flesh no longer tolerated as master of our lives but as servant to the spirit man to enable us to fulfill the work He has determined for our days.  Flesh was never intended to be master of our minutes spent, our days passing.

2 Corinthians 2:14 ~  "Now thanks be to God who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and through us diffuses the fragrance of His knowledge in every place."

Truth ~ if we our surrendered to Christ, we are living in complete victory and triumph today.  Not tomorrow or the day after, but today.  We are living, breathing triumph.  Being lead about by the Spirit of God in complete victory.  Now.  Not tomorrow when this crazy corona thing subsides, but now.  Triumphant.  Victorious.  That is the truth.

The question of the hour is are we walking in that truth?  Are we speaking in that truth?  Are we texting and typing in that truth?  Are we thinking in that truth?

Or is our mind caught in a continual news feed of fear?  A social media diet of anxiety?  If we allow it, our flesh will walk us into fear and defeat, for our flesh is facing its own mortality.  Our flesh will pass away.  And if given even an inch, it will grab a mile and then another and then yet, a few more miles.  It will walk many miles in defeat, if we allow it.  

But, our spirit man knows a different way, a different tale.  Our spirit man knows we will live an eternity with God, rejoicing at His feet, dancing through His thrown room for ALL OF TIME!  Our spirit knows that God is taking us by the hand, grasping our sweaty, clammy hands and leading us in victory.  Triumph.  Our flesh will quake and quiver at the thought of its mortality but our spirit rejoices in its complete victory over death, through the cross of Christ.

Even in the midst of crazy corona ~ you my beloved son and daughter of God are TRIUMPHANT.  VICTORIOUS.

Now we must walk in that.

For much of the world around us is dead and dying.  Reeking of the fear and anxiety that grips and chokes our world.  Our world languishes under the stench of the sick and dying and we beloved are "diffusing the fragrance of His knowledge in EVERY PLACE."  We are His fragrance being poured out into the stench of the sick and dying and the very whiff of His knowledge brings the dead back to life!  And every place where our feet step we pour forth triumph and victory.  And the beautiful fragrance of the knowledge of God ~ the very truth that an Immortal God deeply loves us and cherishes us is diffused into every space we occupy.

That is our great calling, that is our purpose, that is the work we were intended to do.  Diffusing the knowledge of God EVERYWHERE and at ALL TIMES through ALL CIRCUMSTANCES.

For we are triumphant EVERWHERE and at ALL TIMES though ALL CIRCUMSTANCES because of the cross of Christ.

We know this truth ~ we are truth bearers.  We carry a gospel in our very hearts that our dying world needs to breathe in.  We are diffusing the breath of God as we go forth into this dying world.  

In a world caught in the very grip of an enemy that steals the breath of humanity, that drains the life blood from the losts' veins one painful drop at a time ~ that very world needs us to breathe forth the very breath of God!  The life giving breath of God.

A disease of the respiratory sort, shortness of breath, can not catch my breath, can not inhale and exhale ~ that reeks of a nasty enemy does it not?  Stealing the breath of humanity away!  Figuratively and literally!  Can not breath in, can not breath out.  Trapped as prisoners in our own homes, terrified of this loss of breath.  Oh, that reeks of a nasty enemy for certain.

But, we beloved carry the very breath of God!  And every place we step He diffuses the very breath of His knowledge!  And the world so desperately needs His life's breath right now!  At this very moment, church breathe His life giving breath out!  Exhale the knowledge of Him to the world around you that is languishing, perishing under this present dark loss of breath!  We can not take a deep breath under the fear and anxiety of it all WITHOUT THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD!  The very knowledge of God sets us free to breathe deep and lungs fill with life giving air!  Church this is our hour to diffuse the knowledge of God into every place!

This is the essence of who we are, the very work we are called to do and we are called for such a time as this!

Do not permit your flesh to worry under its mortality, to walk you into anxiety and fear.  My flesh will die, your flesh will pass away and praise God that it will!  For then we enter into eternity with our Creator, to spend our days in eternal bliss.