Dawn Breaks

Matthew 28:1 ~  "After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb."

The sun slides slivers of light upon the land, bursts of light and bright begin their early dawn arrival and the new day of a new week breaks first light on their forlorn faces.  These women who have watched, waited and wept; these Marys are bathed with the first wash of heavenly cleansing.  Many more waves of washes would break light on the faces of the forlorn, washing the weary and stripping the willing of all their wanton ways.

But, that first break of a new day, of that first week, these Marys met the early morning rays, Marys ~ Mary, the mother of . . . and Magdalene, the keeper of seven unclean spirits, surely kept this Magdalene was, until the kept was made clean by her King.

He had not bore our sin but had become our sin, and Father turned away from sinful Son (2 Corinthians 5:21) and broke holy communion.  He became the sin of this Magdalene, this Mary, keeper of seven sick spirits, He became that dark of that sin.  Death was required for these Marys' sinful ways, death is required too for this mother of . . . and her sinful ways.  Death was a requirement.

So, darkness fell and He died.  And then He arose.

And in this house, I am Mary mother of . . . and I am Mary Magdalene, and every morning dawn breaks again and slivers of light slide up this sinful soul and He rises again anew.  In a house full of those who certainly know the shades of dark and death has hounded hard and hopes were hopeless, in this house we know Easter, we live Easter, every moment of everyday.

He arises anew and defeats death and dashes the darkness in this house full of young souls who are aged with a lifetime full of dark and death.  Yet, He breaks a new dawn, of a new day, of a new week and dark and death quake at His early morning Light.

I am Mary mother of . . . and Mary Magdalene.  I am the empty tomb ~ this once upon a time dark death cavern that is emptied and now filled to the brim with Victory.  The stone of this stony heart has been rolled away and you are welcome to peer in and witness the cave emptied of death and dark and to meet Victory. 

By the blood of Jesus I am redeemed and restored.  By the blood of Jesus, I am Easter.  Are you?

For You

He gave . . .

He gave His life's blood selflessly . . .

So, today we gather at Calvary . . .


I barely have words to give . .

When You poured out so that I may live . . .


I am plagued by worry, by fear . . .

When all I want is to simply draw near . . .


Write on, certainly I must . . .

So in You, I place my eternal trust . . .


In the dark of the night, from the garden green, they steal You away.

They come in anger and they come ravished with lust,
   Simply because they would not trust.

The power of greed,
    They have allowed to lead,
       and they have cried, "Crucify!" Abraham's seed.

And I weep and I lament, I bend trembling knee,
    Because now I truly do see,
      I have allowed greed to lead me.

And on that dark day, my voice rang out!
    "Crucify Him!" gushed out in an angry shout!

But through that angry mob,
    His eyes caught my sob,

And He said, "Come here,
    you, my little one, simply draw near."

"My dear, come before Me and kneel,
    and I promise you, I will certainly and eternally heal."

Through the crowd I break and run,
    straight to the Heavenly Son!

With gentle eye He looks at me,
    and I scramble up upon His knee.

"Steady now," He gently speaks,
    "My time has come," and my tears begin to leak.

"My fate, I will gladly meet,
     to crush my little one's enemy under My feet!"

He sets me at the foot of His cross,
    And my Savior climbs up to endure His great loss.

In that noon time hour,
    I see His majestic power.

For the noon day sun grows dim,
    As she weeps over the impending death of Him.

The noon day sun, dark as night?
     A fairytale! Some may say, for the noon sun must give light!

A fairytale?  Certainly not!
     Such is a lie from that place of rot!

For here is the truth ~

Our Father of Everlasting Light,
   Turned His beautiful face, so bright
From Son Who willingly offered up His might
   And selflessly laid down His right
Broken and disfigured, such a ghastly sight,
   That our Father of Everlasting Light,
Turned His beautiful face so bright,
   And our land was covered in the deepest of night,
I promise, that this is certainly right.


Why He did what He did, we certainly can't see,
    But we know He has saved us for eternity!
   

We Gather in the Garden, the Garden of Gethsemane

In the garden we gather, we enter and gather around and surely we stand on holy ground . . .

The damp of the night hangs heavy in cool night air and we wander and we wonder ~
   we can not possibly be, worthy to see all that He must be?!

Yet, He invites, He asks, this God Man, He yearns for us to gather and see, gather here at Gethsemane.

So, we come in the dark of the night and our same moon spills light on this dark night and bare toes touch garden of green and we ask again ~ what has He brought us here to see?

And when they enter in, this band of haggard men, we know.  Yes, we certainly do know; there He is, there is our Jesus, He has entered in and here He stands with me at Gethsemane.  And I see the pain He wears and He wears it for me.

And He says to them, "You stay here . . . " and you three you come with Me, we must go deeper and we must go farther.  And the anguish on His face, oh His beautiful face, could quite possible break our hearts and save the entire human race.  But, He has asked us to gather at Gethsemane, He has asked us to see, all that He must be.

This Jesus, this God who wrapped the Light in skin ~ so that He could bear our sin.  This Man would cry out in agony and He would lament before the heavens and three times He would plead, "Please, take this cup from Me . . ."

And three times He would willingly surrender, "Yet, not My will . . ."

In the cool of the night as exhaustion would steal the three away, Jesus would break wide open and pour out in this garden of green.

We remember now . . .
     was it not another garden and a different man all those years ago that we know . . .
         did not that first man break wide open also?
Surely, we know our first father, he too broke in garden of green but he broke with an entirely selfish desire.  And it was his break that entirely broke us all from the hand of God.

And in a garden, he broke (we too have broken a thousand times over for purely our own selfish desire) and we have made a break that tore a chasm, a chasm of great divide that lays eternally wide.

And in the cool of the garden of Gethsemane we find yet another Man, and entirely new Man and we watch in quiet anticipation as our Jesus readies Himself to hurtle His body, heart, and soul into the abyss to bridge this chasm that broke clear and wide in that first garden, with that first man, all those years ago.

And He says, "Watch and pray!"  And they slumber and sleep.  Yet, we know we must not judge for how much do we slumber and sleep in our own Gethsemane!

In the lush garden of green we watch in terror as green is stained in droplets of His red.  We silently stare at that beautiful face as yes, we absolutely do see that agony and anguish pours forth from each pore and even now, this precious blood, His life's blood, begins its long and torturous descent from this Heavenly Body to the dry and parched land of our souls that cry out in need of a Savior.

And we see through the mist of the garden, the still of the night, we see our Savior has come and as the droplets of blood gather on such a beautiful face, we gather here to truly see why it is that we race.

We gather on holy ground before holy Savior and we ask again, "How can it be that such as You would die for me?"

But, dare we pry eyes from below?  Dare we to see?  A heaven above that weeps for her Son below!  A Son that cries out, "Father, Father!  Please take this cup from Me!"

A Son in anguish.  And Father hears the cry of His only begotten Son, Who cries out, "Abba Father, Daddy!"  And heaven weeps silent tears, for this Abba Father loved this world so much that He turned deaf ear to sobbing Son and He gave . . .

His only begotten Son . . .

And His only begotten Son gave . . .

His precious life's blood . . .

that gathered in droplets in the garden of Gethsemane . . .

And we gather around in garden so green because . . .

He gave . . .




(Matthew 26:36-46, Mark 14:32-42, Luke 22:39-46)

Love

The thoughts run rancid and I gape at my own unloving ugliness and I look away in disgust and I look away in shame . . . I look away from myself.

And I say again ~ "This is so unnatural!  You have asked the impossible!  To love another, so unlike her mother.  To love continually, to love regardless, to love hourly and eternally, to love despite, despite her and now I see, despite me.  It is not natural this thing we have done!  It is impossible and
I   can  not  do  it!"

And in that final moment, in that last ~  I  can  not  ~ I hear a subtle sigh of relief slip over the side of the heavenly seat.  A cosmic congratulations, the heavenly host heralds ~
    "She finally does see!
        She is capable of nothing!
     Apart from her heavenly Me!"

And He does declare victory in this ugly and battered heart of mine, a heart fully surrendered.

And I do gladly declare ~
   
    I  can  not, so He must, and He certainly will and He does . . . the impossible again and again in this heart of mine.

Today, I run this race and dance our duo, and words of a perfect love that casts out fear and bears all things, these words run as companion, these words dance as hope; that the God of completion will complete this perfect love in me.

(1 John 4:7-19, 1 Corinthians 13)

Can Not Be Done, At Least Not By Me

Weeks out, He lays the burden heavy and I choke back sobs at the magnitude of the task.  I whimper in His lap, "I can not do it, I have not words to convey," and He waits quietly and I lay my head upon His chest and mutter and mumble, "I do not have the words, I can not possibly pen a piece about such an act as this.  I have not words."

And yet, the burden lays heavy and with much prayer and tears a few words do come.  And I tremble at the weight of this act of love, this laying down of life to satisfy His great love, for you, for me.  Words ring hollow and type trite . . .

And I say again ~ it can not be done, certainly not by me, I can not properly pen this great love which you have shown to me.

And yet, the burden remains heavy.

I look at my boys . . . my beautiful boys and my heart quakes at the searing pain of such a great sacrifice.  What have You done?  What did You do for me?  That day at Golgotha, what pain did You endure?  My heart skips another beat, how can it be?

What Love is this that I have stumbled upon?  Have you seen or heard of such a thing as this?  I look to my right and to my left, I find nothing in this world that has a sliver of resemblance to act of love such as this.

My son flashes in front, laughing eyes and toothy grin, strong hands and a gentle heart, and my heart misses another beat.  And I do not know and can not fathom such a sacrifice as this.

I know now that I can never properly pen this thing You have laid low, this thing which You have done but I will try and try and try and try . . . and then tomorrow I will try again.

What else is there for me to do?

And I will pen words on paper and write words on my heart and I will inscribe Your story on the storybook of our family and I will write of it into the days of my children's lives.  And I will tell of this thing You have done in all that I do; I will tell of You today and tomorrow and all the tomorrows of beyond.

What else could I possibly do?

While I can never properly pen or possibly tell, I will glory in the privilege of my sad and sorry telling of such a marvelous tale of such a love as this.

Today, I race heavy under the weight of this, He has laid me low with the gravity of His great love.

Pray for me, please.

No Words to Tell

Last week I pleaded with the heavens for just a little faith; faith to believe and faith to know that He had called us and He would provide, EVERYTHING that we are in need of.  Friends and family ask, "What will you do?  What is the plan?"  And we say, "No plan really, just God, we are just waiting . . . on God."  They glance away with concern in their eye and I see the reflection of worry from mine.

And I plead again, just a mustard seed of faith so I can tell this mulberry tree to grow in the sea (Luke 17:6) and please a tiny seed to pick up this mountain that looms over my family (Luke 17:20).

Then the tiny seed begins to burn warmth into my inner man and I breathe a sigh of relief.

She called on Friday to say they needed to meet with us and I ask when and she says how about now?  She explains they are headed out of town and they have something for us and I think to myself, great!  I am sure she baked us some fresh bread or cupcakes for the kids.  Or not.

We meet in the parking lot and he hands my husband a wad of cash, a $6,300 wad to be exact.  He quietly says, "I sold a car and I wanted you to have it."  And in the moment I am overwhelmed and awkward and unsure of what to say but Will always knows, he reaches out and hugs him there standing in the parking lot.  And in that lot some may have wondered ~ did I just witness an emotional drug deal?

This is the truth of what they witnessed ~

One father who shoulders the weight of nine; nine in need and nine hurting, nine who are lost and without, nine who need ears to hear and eyes to see.  And this father he gives all he has to give and he loans them his eyes and his ears through prayer and intercession, through fasting and faithfulness.  One father shoulders the weight of their young worlds so they can climb out from under their burdens to find the Light.

And this one husband bears the weight of his wife that bends and bows like the willow and turns weeping to her heavenly Father and to this one husband.  And he reminds her to bend upwards and higher and he promises she will see the light again.

And he shoulders the weight.

But on that Friday afternoon in the midst of people and cars one brother stood beside him and said, "Today I shoulder this load with you and brother to brother, father to father I stand with you under the eternal gravity of these children."

On Sunday our Pastor said, "Remember, the moon has no light of its own, it only reflects the light of the sun and we must reflect the light of the only Son."

And when the land is shrouded in darkness and the earth stands silent our moon quietly rises to illuminate the dark night.  That reflected beauty shines light on our dark nights and it promises us that the Son will rise again.

And we too, His bride, emptied out and laid bare; the Church, His great love, living lives fully surrendered, we too, reflect His beautiful light on a land that lays in darkness.

And as the shadows of bills lay looming large in our present space, as the darkness that creeps in with unanswered questions that sound something like this ~ "How will we feed nine teens?  And shod ninety toes?  And transportation?  Will we finally be one with our sandled sister and will our beautiful island behold a traipsing eleven walking to church?"  And darkness tried to slither its slimy self into our family but on Friday God reflected His light off His people and in the the middle of a Subway parking lot He said, "Remember, I have told you, My light shines in all your darkness and the darkness will NEVER overcome Me."

And our friends stood as beautiful moon in our dark night and they reflected His beautiful light and we were bathed in the beauty of it.

Two men said, "Today, we run our race together and we will gather all these hurting little ones and we race them into the arms of Jesus."

And we race on.

Dancing Duo (Part 2)

Yesterday afternoon (following my run with the dancing duo) ~

I sat with Bible and notebook open, cup of hot tea steamed beside and children raced in and out and they crashed through smashing doors and the laughter (and the questions) come in steady stream.  But amidst the hustle and the bustle of our blessed home He sat quietly beside and He lays healing hand and gently wraps the wounds of the raw places.  And the raw places?  Were not quite so raw anymore.

I repent of a few things and He explains some of the others.

And I ask again how do I wade through this stormy life?  How do I forsake all others and take up my cross?  For their scorn burns deep in raw flesh.

And the Truth sits aside me and is alive and well within me and He guides me ~

John 5:44 ~ "How can you believe, when you receive glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from the only God?" 

Jesus said that, "How can you believe?"  And this truth smarts a sinful soul and I bow the knee in repentance. I have lacked faith because I have sought glory from others and I have looked to sources which can not supply.

How can I believe?  I have not believed, not believed that He is all sufficient to meet my every need and to bring life and life more abundantly.  I have not believed that He is Friend and Protector, that He is the Source of all, I have not believed, for I have looked for glory in another.  "What if they all turn away?" I ask.  "What if I am left alone?  What if they ALL scorn and scoff?  What if the pain cuts to deep and I split clean through?  What if?"

I repent of my "what ifs?" and of my faithless heart and in desperation I plead, "Make me something entirely new, make me something like You."

I quickly begin with another round of questions ~ How do I seek this glory from only You?  Where is this glory of Yours found?  How will I know?

And my Friend, He patiently waits through my rambling and then He answers ~

"My glory?  And your dancing duo?  They are one in the same; you see ~ you and I are the dancing duo, you swim side by side with me and we dance and we weave and we arch heads high and break through surface together and we cascade down intertwined.  That is My glory in you ~ that as your con-caved lungs gasp and grasp and for My life giving air I gently push you up and you break through.  That is My glory and that is your glory ~ we dance a duo down the corridors of time.  And we dance a dance based solely on My grace and we will dance into eternity and forever and beyond.

Let them scorn and scoff, let them chide and turn away, for Jennie, your only glory is that you dance a duo with the King of All Kings."

My Friend said these words to me and I ask these words of you ~ who do you dance your duo with?  I am not asking whether you go to church or prayed a prayer once upon a time, I am asking who do you crash through the waters of life with?  Constantly and continually who do you arch and break for air with?  It is not a question of religion, denomination, education or connection, it is a question of full surrender to the only One who deserves glory.  Things of this world are fleeting, they do not have the endurance, nor the power to dance you into an eternity with no tears, only the One, the God Almighty, His Son Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit of the Living God can offer you that.

Call it what you like ~ a race or a dance ~ but either way it is colliding full speed with your eternity.  Are you certain of who you are partnered with?

Unsure?  Then bow head to God and knee to Jesus and surrender all.

My race today is run with quiet whispers and plenty of pleading with my Partner that each of you would couple with the Champion, today.

Dancing Duo

I stepped out this morning on frustrated and certainly fret-full feet, my running shoes were running tired and so was my soul.  After days in the hospital and sick spleens and surgery and weeks of financial strain; I was spent, used up and slightly fed up.

How did He know?  He always knows His sheep, He always knows.  And when the creative hand of God determines to bestow a heavenly kiss upon the tear stained cheek He does just that in His majestic ways.

And He knew and there they were, perfectly timed ~ that pair of arching graces under water that would flow beneath the bridge that lay below my tired footfalls.

And they broke through, their sleek bodies rising arched and cascading down; their graceful dance this duo weaved beneath the waters, their slender heads slide up through water and breaks free to devour that life giving air and then they slip, arching back under the waves only to break through again to gather that which they need.

This dancing duo knows, just as I know, we must break free from under the weight and the worry and we must push head above and fill lungs with life.

I watched and every few moments they again danced this beautiful dance of Giver giving gift of life's breath; and they instinctual know what we so often must learn that our survival depends on His life's breath being grasped for, clung to, every minute of every day.

But, theirs is a dance of beauty and grace and mine is not quite so steady and smooth.  And this morning I too break through and after surgeries and sickness, financial fretting, the worry and wonder of our three new lovely unknowns, of hurts laying raw and waiting for a healing touch, from under the pain of the present and the sin of the worry of the future, I too break through and free.  But, the heavenly realms behold a sight much unlike my coupled beauties that arch below my feet.  I am certain the heaven-lies see a sight of the grasping and the gasping me as I finally break surface for air ... graceful and beautiful?  Probably not.  And as He gently pulls me from under the weight of the pain and worry it is a sorry sight indeed ~ me spluttering and sputtering, my sadly starved self rising from below. 

No graceful moves, just a broken me.

But, with His gentle tug I burst through and these con-caved lungs fill again and my hollowed innards rise with this filling.  And He breathes life into nostrils and lungs heave and this soul delights and I marvel under the weight of His goodness.

Ephesians 3:16-17 ~ " ... to be strengthened with might through His Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith ... "

And I do not know why He would choose to dwell in this soul - serving heart of mine, I can not rightly understand why He would dwell in the ugly depths of me but while I do not know why, I certainly know truth ~ that my inner man is strengthened by the Spirit of the Living God.

My sad sick soul breathes a song of new life and maybe someday my breaking through will be steady and sure, maybe someday I won't rise gasping with collapsed lungs.  Maybe I will forget all this forgetting what my dancing duo lives daily ~ that we must break through and breathe His life - giving breath moment by each and every moment.

While I do not know what this race will bring today ~
          Come be it what may,
              I will surely say,
          He bestows generous mercies each and every day.

And, we race on.

(What type of animal is my dancing duo?  If you guess right I will give you life long free subscription to my blog and a signed copy of my fictitious book that is alive and well only inside my head :)  )