a new day.

It is a new day--and I am blessed to be breathing in this day.  If you're reading this, than you have the opportunity to see.  You have breath.  You can step into your wildest dreams this day.  You can too leap into the streets with dancing if you wanted.  Maybe you can be a comforter to someone today, write an encouraging letter, share a cup of tea. 

Whatever you do, I urge you to live... for we have been given a day that has not been seen before till now.  So, what are you going to do with your day?  Will you live for the One?  Will you pour out words sprung from love?  Will you press forward and make this day one you and God will both not forget? 

Will you step into all that He says you are: victorious, free, redeemed, loved, beautiful, healed, chosen? 

Live for the One. 

Live for the One who gave His life and who overcame the grave.

Live for the One and only,

King Jesus.

openness at psalm 38.

"All my longings lie open before you, Lord,

for you know what I long for;

my sighing is not hidden from you,

you hear my every sigh."

 

Although I merged two versions of Psalm 38:9 (the NIV and NLT) to make the verse above, I hope it's not against some "bible law" to do this.  When I read this scripture last night it made me think about how I have been feeling for a couple of days now.

 

All my longings from the haven't-seen-it-come-to-pass dreams, my maybe-this-is-unrealistic hopes, and my I'm-almost-there yearnings, they aren't capable of standing before the Lord.  They're like the cry of this psalmist: needed to be found lying open before the Lord (which I am learning is almost a form of its own kind of discipline and worship to the King).

 

My feet are weak.  My knees are giving out... and I'm found many nights now sprawled open on the ground or on my bed kissing the air with my deep sighs.  I lay and ponder if He really hears the things I cannot put into words.  I ponder if I'm really His beloved, would He touch the places that I can't seem to make better.  I ask whether His ability to love me will hold me securely, will it keep me, will it fulfill me and be more than enough.

 

And through this small verse that's crawled into my heart, I am reminded He hears my every sigh, my every prayer, my every doubt, my every thought.  He has not forgotten me.  He hasn't stopped listening.  He hasn't stopped speaking.

 

Take heart for He is strong and faithful.  He is good.

 

What are you laying open before the Lord?

He paves the way.

 

Isaiah 52:12

 

"Go in confidence and grace—no rushing, no frantic escape. There’s no need to be anxious—the Eternal God goes before and behind you. The God of Israel paves the way with assurance and strength. He watches your back."

Really spoke to me this morning.
Hoping you find encouragement in this too!

knee moments

pic from a. hernando

It's late in the day and I'm in need of some coffee.  I have something burning on the inside... and it's to say this to you, my friend:

 

I want to stay put long enough in one location to have my knees planted to ground. To the ground, I want to rest my knees. I want to be found in a conversation with my Lord. I want an exchange, a giving and taking between me and Him. I want to pour what I have in me, to give onto Him. I want to give, and give more of my heart, my self, so that I may receive all that He has to pour back into the spaces I've created for Him.

 

This is what I want to do--stay on my knees.

 

Jaci Valesquez's song "On my Knees" has always been a reminder to me about the power in living a lifestyle of coming to our knees.

 

In our knee moments (yes, I'm coining this newly developed term), we have the ability to press into the heart of God. We have been given an eternal gift in the Holy Spirit... in the blood of Jesus Christ. We've been given this precious treasure by God Himself so that we may be able to come boldly into the Kingdom of God and be empowered to do greater things.

 

So I hear her song...

There are days when I feel the best of me is ready to begin

Then they're days when I feel I'm letting go and soaring on the wind

Cause I've learned in laughter or in pain, how to survive

 

I get on my knees, I get on my knees

There I am before the love that changes me

See I don't know how but there's power when I'm on my knees

I have thought long and hard about this posture of being on my knees. It's eye-opening and I invite you to think about it too.

 

It is during these knee moments that have often repurposed and redirected the motions of my life.
 

I think about my 18-year-old self who thought nobody cared. Each day was a struggle to survive. And though I was still involved in a toxic, on-and-off-again-relationship, the big knee moment happened when I discovered I was pregnant.
 

I remember sitting in the little recessed section at the front of my dorm room where the full-length mirror hung. I remember holding tightly to my silver flip-phone deciding whether or not I should call someone. Even if, who would I call? I stared at my reflection for hours and couldn't stop weeping. I sat there, on my knees, afraid to move elsewhere.
 

In a matter of moments, my tiny, grandma fingers somehow made its way to the keypad. I phoned the only friend who I felt could give me a true, godly and honest response.  Although I don't remember all that was said in that conversation, the only words I can recall saying is "I'm pregnant and I don't want this baby." And her responding, "I think you should keep it."

 

I don't have any ill-feelings about what was said... I remember hearing love, forgiveness, redemption, grace in her voice but I didn't want it--none of it. So a week later I found myself in an abortion clinic--sealed the deed, as they would say--and returned to campus the next day.

 

I bled. I bled a lot. Physically and spiritually.  And in my most fragile stages of living this newly independent life, I found myself on my knees--a whole lot--searching for forgiveness, answers, purpose, comfort, hope... love. And I've learned through the knee moments, there is a God who is so full of forgiveness, restoration, and love.

 

There's been plenty of those knee moments between age 18 and now 27.  But these moments remind me of my frailty and how much I need God. They remind me of my smallness and I'm quite fine with that. And there are moments on my knees because I'm overwhelmed by what I have found: healing, power, love, forgiveness, truth, freedom...
 

I know this sounds a bit radical but I love brokenness and these knee moments(as much as it hurts at times). I like to be reminded of how much I need the cross. Otherwise I'd be on a very different route with quite the opposite list of ambitions and dreams. But as I reflect on all the knee moments and think about how they have shaped me along the journey, I know there is always grace and love at the throne of God.
 

I need more of Jesus. I need more moments on my knees to humbly give myself (all the pain, the confusions, the sadness, the happy ones too, the small things to the big ones) to the One that gave me life because He has so much more to pour back. I get really busy with stuff and don't fight hard enough for the knee moments.  Sometimes it's really because I'm scared... but I have been feeling it more as of late.  I have been feeling this need to get on my knees every chance.  I hope you do too.  There's so much in those moments to be found.  I hope to hear what you find.
 

Are you needing to get on your knees too?
 

What do you need to release to Him?
 

Have you had some recent knee moments?

 

"Imagine if each time you had the urge to text, tweet, email, log onto Facebook, or phone a friend to share some heartfelt need, you stopped and prayed instead. Really prayed, trusting God to answer. That’s faith." -Anne Voscamp

on being wrecked.

My life is wrecked.
It. Is.  W r e c k e d.

wreck [rek]

noun

1. any building, structure, or thing reduced to a state of ruin.

2. the ruin or destruction of a vessel in the course of navigation.

3. a vessel in a state of ruin from disaster at sea, on rocks, etc.

I am a structure reduced to a state of ruin--a physical destruction, the state of disintegrating and being destroyed.  I am wrecked by a love that would call for every good and every bad thing to kneel before its glory.  I am ruined.  I am wrecked.

 

I am a vessel in the course of my own navigation, attempting to understand God and His heart, His will, His being.  I am now a broken vessel.  I sit on the wheel of the potter.  Broken.  Destroyed.  Ruined.  Wrecked.

 

I have felt my imperfections.  I memorized the pangs of my youth.  I've learned where the cracklings in my vessel rested.  I've even learned how to tip over, ever so gently, so that nothing would expose the imperfections.  I have felt every failed attempt.  Every missed moment.  Every what if.  Every "I'm not good enough" moment.  Every judgemental remark.  Every sinful act.  I have felt every imperfection of this vessel.

 

I continued on my merry way, hoping others would not see what I see.

 

But behold, He shined a light upon me! "Oh, I must clean this off of you," He whispered.

 

Did He see it?

How could He?

 

I've done so well in my hiding... in my masking.

 

How could He? 

 

In fact, how could He not? 

 

For His hands are the syllables of love itself.  His rhythm is that of the ocean's calm and rage; it moves with such an incomprehensible power and of a wild passion.  It sets to motion everything to its rightful place.  And yet, He doesn't see it as my imperfections... He sees only a need... a need for His nurturing, a desire to be met by His handling.

 

So I'm wrecked--on this Potter's wheel.

 

He is rubbing off the imperfections of my pride, lust, hatred, unforgiveness, shame, frustrations, and my hurt.  He smoothes my heart, my being, my soul... this vessel. He works in me to perfect me, only because He loves me and wants nothing but the best; and that best is to be found as His beloved, securely in His hands.

 

 

Do you not see that we are all made to be wrecked by the love of God?

 

When we pray it is not for our own sake of mumbling, hopeful wishing, or pleaing of our desires to be met.   When we pray and lament before this God, our King and Lord, it is to bring everything into perspective. 

 

We are nothing without Him. 

 

He is the Sovereign One. So when we pray, it's so that we are found again and again and again, found as His beloved secure in His hands.

 

This state of ruin, it's one that is hard to submit to.   It calls to more than dying to yourself.   It's a state that causes for us to say with boldness and humility, "I am ready to be found. Here I am, Lord. Make me."   It removes all of our agendas.  This state of being wrecked--it changes the course we've been on.

 

These borrowed words from my friend Sarah B. Dunnings puts it best: "We find God when we establish who He is, not who we are; only then do we worship in truth, and only then do we also understand who we are."

 

He is the Maker. He is the Lover. He is the Life-sustainer. 

He is the Great I Am. He is the Treasure that we seek. 

He is the Fulfillment of the Law. He is the Grace we need. 

He is the Hope we find. He is Rush we feel when our hearts are moved. 

He is Compassion. He is Forever. He is the Real Deal. He is Solid.

He is Whole. He is Perfect. He is the Potter. He is the Author. 

He is the Finisher. He is God.

 

And when my vessel--albeit my heart, my soul, my body or all three--bows at the sound of His name (even if it one I hear in my head), I surrender.  I surrender in a wrecked state.   I surrender in my absolute awe. 

 

I fall to my knees because even the fibers and molecules of my makeup feel and acknoweldge His sovereignty. I am compelled and moved to surrender, to worship, to pray, to utter with all that I am,

 

"Have your way... even in my breaking.

Here I am.  I want nothing more than You."

 

In which we will always find the King responds to us, "Beloved, I am Yours.  I love you." 

 

It's okay to be broken.

 

It's okay to be walking it out.  It's okay to not have it all worked out yet.  It's okay to be wrecked of everything you've planned.  Find yourself in the Lover's hands, the Potter's hands.

 

Surely, He makes a path through mighty waters.  He is God... and we are His.

there's beauty in the fog

 

On my way to work this morning I saw something I don't normally see: beauty in the fog.

 

Before my rising, the fog had journeyed its way to find a nesting place between the sky-scraper buildings in downtown Providence.  I am taken aback at how the fog somehow couraged every inch of its body and managed to stretch all of its bearing over the heart of this city.  It was as if the fog wanted to declare this morning, "Let me hold you."

 

 
That's the glory of the Lord.

That's the glory of the Lord, I said to myself.

I drove deeper into the city rehearsing those words: that's the glory of the Lord, that's the glory of the Lord—meanwhile other thoughts ran rampant.

 

How does that look like the glory of the Lord? 

Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now? 

Maybe fog isn't God's glory.

Where did you get this insane thought?

 

Maybe it's from here.

 

Genesis 2:4-8 says,

 

"This is the history of the heavens and of the earth when they were created.  In the day that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens—When no plant of the field was yet in the earth and no herb of the field had yet sprung up, for the Lord God had not [yet] caused it to rain upon the earth and there was no man to till the ground, but there went up a mist (fog, vapor) from the land and watered the whole surface of the ground.  Then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath or spirit of life, and man became a living being.  And the Lord God planted a garden toward the east, in Eden [delight]; and there He put the man whom He had formed (framed, constituted)."

*Words bolded for emphasis

I love how the translation The Voice puts verse 6-7:

"In those days, a mist rose up from the ground to blanket the earth and its vapors irrigated the land.  One day the Eternal God scooped dirt out of the ground, sculpted it into the shape we call human, breathed the breath that gives life into the nostrils of the human, and the human became a living soul." 

This fog I saw resting over the city today reminds me, God is watering the whole surface of the ground: the ground of my heart, the ground of the past, the ground of the lost, the ground of dying.  God is saturating the grounds of the hard and soft places in my life.  As He did in the beginning of creation, He is showering us with the vapors of grace so that from it He can form us by His breath and spirit of life so that we may be made alive!

"Don’t you know that He who pursues and explores the human heart intimately knows the Spirit’s mind because He pleads to God for His saints to align their lives with the will of God?  We are confident that God is able to orchestrate everything to work toward something good and beautiful when we love Him and accept His invitation to live according to His plan.  From the distant past, His eternal love reached into the future.  You see, He knew those who would be His one day, and He chose them beforehand to be conformed to the image of His Son so that Jesus would be the firstborn of a new family of believers, all brothers and sisters.  As for those He chose beforehand, He called them to a different destiny so that they would experience what it means to be made right with God and share in His glory." -Romans 8:27-30

God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.

Sometimes I don't see the point of the fog... but fog means rain, and rain means the sun will come again, and sun means rainbow, and rainbows mean God's promises. If you can't see past the fogs right now, rest assured that the glory of the Lord is here with us.  Maybe it's through the fogs we are able to see that we've been called to a different destiny, one that allows us to experience what it means to be made right with God and share in His glory.  Maybe it's through the waiting of the clouds to pass we can be convinced of this:

Truly, the glory of the Lord is among us.  He is holding us.

 

drink from His cup, the one that overflows.

Photo credit: Ashley DeVrieze

 

This morning as you take your coffee mug or nalgeen bottle to fill, I hope you can fill your cup with:

 

gratitude

 

hope

 

encouragement

 

the word of God

 

endurance 

 

&

 

possibilities.

 

 

I hope you can see the goodness of the Lord.  I hope you can find your needed rest, your silent but deep sighs.  I hope you can feel His kindness and great love with each sip you take today.  You were made for this day.  Rejoice in it.  Taste in it and see the glory of the Lord.

 

"I pray that God, the source of all hope, will infuse your lives with an abundance of joy and peace in the midst of your faith so that your hope will overflow through the power of the Holy Spirit."  - Romans 15:13

 

What are you filling up your cup with this morning?