That Tempest Did Surely Blow

Yesterday I arose early and they awoke early as well, thoughts of rushing storms, rushing through and leaving crumpled bodies in the waves of destruction.  And Mamas left to drown in their pools of grief.

I have learned through trial and error there is only One safe haven when the winds whip life hallow and rains fall hard on broken days and broken hearts.  Trial and error, far more error then I care to admit and I now know my Solid Ground.

We are merely strangers and sojourners in this broken land, we are just passing through. (1 Peter 2:11)

And when tiny travelers travel home far too early for our understanding and the ground begins to shift as sifting sand beneath our feet then we must dive deep, (for deep calls unto deep in the crashing waves of tumultuous days and terrible times), we must dive deep until we crash into Solid Ground.

The Word laid open to what had been seen before but not rightly seen, but tear filled eyes have a way of espying something new, tear filled eyes see past today and peer into eternity.

And the Word of before became Solid Ground today ~

Isaiah 54:10-14
    "For the mountains shall depart
and the hills be removed,
But My kindness shall not depart from you,
Nor shall My covenant of peace be removed,
Says the Lord, Who has mercy on you.
O you afflicted one, 
Tossed with tempest, and not comforted,
Behold, I will lay your stones with colorful gems,
And lay your foundations with sapphires,
 I will make your pinnacles of rubies,
Your gates of crystal.
And all your walls as precious stones,
All your children shall be taught by the Lord,
And great shall be the peace of your children.
In righteousness you shall be established . . ."

And they there in that dark alley, that tornado alley, were certainly tossed to and fro with that tempest blow but for the righteous ~ feet find Solid Ground on foundations of sapphires!  And stones thrown here and there and rock torn asunder ~ fall as beautiful gems in the right palm of the One and those of us that pilgrim, sojourn, travel home will one day bow head and that mighty palm will place these colorful gems as garland about our crown.

Yes indeed, my feet have found that magnificent Solid Ground!

I do see in our not so distant distance three new storm tossed cities and the tempest has blown in their lives and ripped lives ragged and soon, so soon, those three young afflicted ones will come home to their temporal home that will guide them to their eternal home.

And yes, the winds begin to rise and the waves crash louder in our ears and I espy the mighty tempest blow and I surely do know as winds whip into a wild frenzy all about, I do know Who rides in this boat.  I know the One Who speaks to the storms and yes, we often do cry, "Lord, Lord, how can You take Your repose even now?!  Do you not hear the din of destruction all about?"  For His ways are not our ways and from here to the heavens His ways climb so high (Isaiah 55:9) and while we do not know why now, we will certainly know all then.

But, regardless of what may whip angry around, He is in the boat and He does speak to the storm and He is our Solid Ground forevermore.

On the grassy plains to the West where dark winds bore down and ripped tiny travelers away, you are an entirely storm tossed city today and we pray ~
            that above the crashing din and destructive darkness of this fallen world you hear the voice of the Calmer of the storm.  The Word that rises above the tumultuous terror of this fallen world, the Word that lays foundations of sapphire and builds walls of precious stone. And our Foundation is here and He will be eternally there and we pay no mind to this spinning globe for we are merely strangers in this foreign land and we race home to His heavenly throne.

We race on through dark and dangerous days and we press on ~
       for we trust in what we can not see,
  I do not rest in you or me,
       It is only He,
  so powerful and mighty,
       only to Whom we bend knee,
  And soon, so very soon, He will calm every angry sea!

words

I wonder and I do not know.  Why do I not write more?  Or why do I write at all?

What to do and what to say?  And who am I to write?  And who are you to read?  And we are nothing apart from Him.

I look for inspiration to write, I search for words.  I find none.  And yet, inspiration to laugh and love does come and inspiration to Hope, well, that is certainly here as well.  Yes, Hope certainly lives amongst us here.

And what are words beyond laughter and love?  What is ever written of value greater then Hope?

John 1:1,14 ~  And 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 saw His glory.

And the words don't come, yet the Word has already come and the Word dwells among us.

And who am I that the Word would come here and dwell amongst me, and be near me and that the Word would indwell within me?

I do not know, I do not know what I am apart from the Word that dwells within me and around me.  I do not know because surely there is nothing to know, there is nothing to know apart from the knowledge of Him.

And the words do not come . . .

But, the Word did come all those years ago and the Word wrapped Himself in flesh, the same as me.

And the Word indwells in me and flows forth as living water.

The Word wrapped in flesh all those years ago and today the Word abides in me encased in my skin, my flesh.

And now do you see?  You see, the same as me?

The words do come, for certainly the Word has already come and He wrapped Himself the same as me ~

Word wrapped the same,
  Word that certainly became,
- the flesh wrapped Word - that bore all my shame,
His beautiful face, their (my) whips would mame,
  Why the Word would be wrapped the same?
These questions, my limited mind can not subdue nor tame,
  Nor can I these words of gratitude contain

So, the Word within
  Who bore all my sin,
And willingly lives within my skin,
  All praise be to Him,
He Who now abides in this ugly skin.

The words do come because the Word did come and therein lies Hope.  Hope in the Word.

Hope in a new day where deaf ears will hear this chorus of praise and no mouth goes hungry, nor hand lays empty.

Hope in the Word that sleeping spirits soon awake and soar, Hope in the Word that broken hearts will lay whole in the palm of the Word.

Hope in the Word for all we need and for all we are ~ for the Word did come and He wrapped Himself in flesh that would be ripped from the back that bore all the sin and yet, those strips of flesh would only reveal the Light.

Light that would dawn eternally bright,
  and the encroaching night
must bend trembling knee before His might.

And the Word is here and the Word is amongst us, do you hear Him?

Quiet now, and listen.  The Word is here.

Exceedingly Abundantly (Yet Not in the Ways That You May Think)

Ephesians 3:20-21 ~
   "To Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory . . . "

This "exceedingly abundantly above all" can not be measured in dollars, degrees, square footage or where your foot falls on the ladder rung that we run ourselves ragged to ascend.  He has already told us not to worry what we will eat or drink or what shall we wear!  Those are already provided, now maybe not in Prada but alas we shall survive without our Prada.

No, this abundance was not intended to be weighed and measured on the scales of the West, for the ways of the West weigh and measure in luxury and opulence but this is not the scales of above.  We judge and determine by the degree of ease yet, He said I judge by the cross.  And while our flesh may cry and whine our spirits do rightly know that the cross was never a way of ease (and remember what He said of your flesh?  Go ahead and let us crucify it now!)

This exceedingly abundant is measured, weighed and tried in the spirit man of you, of me and in the spirit man of all those that lay foot across our paths.  This abundance will be measured in an eternity of years spent in the splendor of His glory.

The ways of the West have crippled us, we limp and gimp through days laden heavy with burdens of things and how to pay for more of those crippling things.

And He sadly watches on and certainly He says, "You have believed a lie, this abundance was not meant to be in the form of food, or clothing, or square footage, or wealth.  It was simply an abundance of Me."

But, the flesh rules and reigns here in the West, and this cruel master has demanded more and cried it is NEVER enough and we have traded Him for a religion that feeds our flesh.

We are a people consumed with today, yet He calls to us still and asks us to be a people consumed with His forever.

And we live amongst a multitude of sleeping spirits, blinded eyes and lost souls and we worry of the state of our bank accounts and the tint in our hair and sadly souls slip away, souls separated for an eternity.

What will we say one day?  Yes, Lord, I did receive your wonderful abundance and I parked in my garage several times over and I took it out on the lake every Saturday!  And what will He say?  Oh, I do worry, He may say, "Depart from Me, I do not know you."

This is what I pray, Lord reveal this truth to us ~

While today we run on streets of asphalt, yet tomorrow we run on streets of gold.  Let us not shod our feet with slick shoes to run fast miles but let us shod our feet with the Gospel of Peace to run a multitude home into their Eternal Peace.

And so I race on, not in the moments of today but in the Spirit of Eternity.

My Dear Friends . . .

"Love is the deepest in what Love has 'loved into being.'"
                                                     ~ George Macdonald (Lilith)

The waves broke on shore that morning and our footfalls broke fresh sand and somewhere amidst the rhythmic tides I fell into His stride.  And He slowed His pace and I fell in line and we (He and me) we whispered of her and of them and I asked again, "Are You sure?"  Nine.

He asked if I remembered His friend, Mr. Macdonald, and, "Yes, surely I remember Your friend for certainly I am a fan.  Why?" I asked.

"When Mr. Macdonald laid pen to paper and spoke of Love loving into being, I thought of you.  I thought of your family, of your nine.  For rightly you know that I have loved you into being . . . "

I choke back a sob for how did I not know?  How did I not see?  Mr. Macdonald had to explain it to me?!  How did I not see?

Love has loved me into being . . . as wife and mother, as Christ follower, I am simply loved into being!

And this family? 

So deep, so very deep as the Lover has loved every fiber into being.  And the heavy burden lifts and I breathe light with lungs bursting with my Lover's air.

He reminds of another friend, a certain Mr. Robert Frost, and he too has taught me well ~

These lovely flowers I give
Prune ye My vines and fig trees,
With care My flowerets tend . . .

When the sun shines brightly
Tend flowers that God has given
And keep the pathway open
That leads you on to heaven.

But, my fine fellow, Mr. Frost, has one not told you that NINE flowerets lay in my garden?  Nine to tend with care?

Mr. Frost, what say you if this novice gardener lays wasted and exhausted and it is only high noon?  And what to do when the flowerets spring thorns by a cruel world and green thumbs lay marred and scarred by crimson red?

Oh but, Mr. Frost knew and so do I, that the Son certainly shines brightly in gardens that have been loved into being.  And novice gardeners lay wasted and bloodied hands into the hands of the Master Gardener and at high noon our Master steps about the garden and the rivers do deeply flow and I drink heavily of those living waters. 

And I wonder?  Have I ever really loved another that I have not wept over?

On the backside of deep tears lies a reservoir of Love and I lay back and am covered in the waters of Love.

And on that early morning my feet raced on, laying footprints in the sand but my spirit waded out into the deep side of this One we call Love.

Race on my friends or more rightly so, wade on, into the deep side of Love.