Tag Archives: God

Today is day 260 of 2012

My brother Joe is reading an Erwin McManus book, Chasing Daylight, and was reflecting today, on moments, those brief, seemingly insignificant fragments of time that make up the whole of life.  Joe shared from the book,

“However mundane a moment may appear, the miraculous may wait to be unwrapped within it.”     -McManus

And then Joe pondered how many moments he may have missed, always reaching way out ahead for the “next thing,” or the thing we want more than what is in front of us.

Hey, I thought – I have pondered these same things.  There was this book my friend Stephanie gave me…

So I searched my very own blog to share with him and as I re-read it, a post I had written on December 31, 2011, I realized, wow-here we are 260 days into the year and all the things I didn’t know were ahead when I wrote this, so quickly have come and gone.  And more than ever I thoroughly realize I wasn’t just writing a clever end-of-year blog post for nameless, faceless readers, I was writing the mandate for my life; my creed, a declaration for my days:

“I am past the halfway mark now, but my senses and ability to feel love have increased exponentially with age, with experience.  When the years rolled out ahead like there was no end in sight, I didn’t have to be as cautious in gathering memory, in recording the story, in remembering.  But now that the lasts are happening, I don’t want to miss anything, not one thing.”

2012, day 260:  I am an archivist, a legacy-leaver.  I am telling the stories my family will need to know long after I am gone.  I am preserving the small, inconsequential details of times and places and people that will be the foundation for understanding, for self-discovery, for the bright light of realization in times too fast and modern and post-modern to keep up with someday.  The history, the memorabilia, the understanding of the great why will be carried close like treasure  And the continuity of people and place and things past and their mark and significance on the then-present will connect transcendent dots on an invisible timeline of light and life and love battered, but triumphant.  I am recording the gift of all present revelation and the secret clues to answers I may never find, but my progeny will…

“All the days planned for me were written in Your book before I was even one day old.  What You have done is wonderful, I know this very well.”

Oh yes, I will carefully archive the evidence my offspring will need to solve the mysteries they face.

2012, day 260: I am an altar-builder.  I call down worship in places once darkened by enemy rule and I gather stones of remembrance with sweat pouring off my brow, piling them, stacking the weight of the faithfulness of God throughout the generations towards our family, stone upon stone, line upon line, precept upon precept – to be remembered and dealt with in the light and glory of all for which Jesus’ blood accomplished on our behalves, while we were yet sinners.

I am an altar builder:  Remember…don’t forget…oh, do you remember how wonderful this was?…And I will not leave them un-built, regardless of the state of brokenness or disrepair, for God is faithful.  He is faithful.  He is so faithful.  And I am not deterred by the size of the stones, by the effort.  I embrace the art it takes to stack stone with mortar, to work until balance is achieved, to build a lasting  commemoration for those to come.

And when you have crossed the Jordan, set up these stones on Mount Ebal, as I command you today, and coat them with plaster. Build there an altar to the Lord your God, an altar of stones. Do not use any iron tool on them. Build the altar of the Lord your God with fieldstones and offer burnt offerings on it to the Lord your God. Sacrifice fellowship offerings there, eating them and rejoicing in the presence of the Lord your God.  Deuteronomy 27.4-7

For these altars are gates, they are path guides, they are monuments symbolic of all that is completed, on earth as it is in heaven.  I am building upon the foundations my parents set before, a great cloud of witnesses.  My children and grandchildren and their children will build on these with greater light and revelation.

2012, day 260:  I am remaining keen on the moments because the moments matter.

Swhew!  That was a loooooooooong intro!  Here is the blog post of which I speak…

My 12.31.11 Re-Post, AT LAST (see original post here)

Let Me Hold You Longer, Karen Kingsbury

Stephanie Morgan brought me a book by that title yesterday at Starbucks. The premise of the book, the author explained, is that in life, we record and particularly note and celebrate all sorts of firsts.  There is a baby’s first tooth, first steps, first day of school – all beautiful milestones that deserve our attention!  Yet, we are unaware of the things that pass, last things.  She explained it by recalling a beautiful day outdoors with her kids when one of the little guys ran up, jumped into her arms, wrapped his legs around her waist and while touching noses told her, “I love you, mommy.”  She noticed how big he was getting and how heavy he was, realizing he probably wouldn’t be doing that too much longer.  Then she looked across the lawn and saw her oldest son who was about to enter middle school and realized that he used to run and jump into her arms the same way and that at some point it had been the last time.

And the thing about last times is, you usually just don’t know they are happening, and if you did, you might want to take closer note.

Of course, I read the book and it killed me.

O my goodness. I tried to tell Stormie about it when she came by earlier today.  Cry.  *Sniff, sniff. And to be silly and try not to be all melancholy, I grabbed Gavin, who was here helping us take down our Christmas decorations and cuddled him on to my lap like I have been doing since June 2003 and kissed his cheek and he is getting so big.  At 8 1/2 he doesn’t quite melt into his Nonna’s lap anymore (he just told me he has an adult-sized head).  He still likes the attention, but is slightly embarrassed.  And I jokingly said, “Everybody remember this in case it is the last time.”

There was practically a boooo and an eye-rolling moan from everyone, but also a palpable realization that this – this moment, this totally open relationship between a little boy and his Nonna, is a relationship that will grow and change and be re-defined as he becomes who God created him to be and has to pull away to become independent before he can, with full confidence in who he is, move back in closer with appreciation for these two old people who have loved him since the day he was born.  And there is realization that time is flying and kissy-cheeks from Nonna, at least in their present, freely-flowing form, are making their way into a land of remember-when-memories.  And growth is good and the destination is the point, but it changes everything you love in the moments that make life worth living to begin with.  Nothing stays the same.

The first time

I don’t recall, though I love baby’s feet, when the last time I kissed the bottoms of my children’s feet was?  I know I kept kissing them, even when they were “too old” for it because it made them laugh and I wanted them to know I adored them all the way from the bottoms of their little feet.  They weren’t babies in age, but they were my babies.  I can’t remember the last time I braided my little girls’ hair (I remember combing long, silky locks – or terrible tangles…lots of them) or what year I quit weaving red ribbons into their braids at Christmas?  In my ornament box, I found a note my mom tucked into the branches of our Christmas tree in 2001…was that my last Christmas with my mom?   I don’t know when the last time we sang “Testify” together at some church or played Risk as a family or any other number of mundane things that make up life.  When was the last time Tara baked Jiffy pizza-bread sticks, anyway?

Lasting impressions

I do know the book struck a chord, something deeply reverberating through my heart.   I am past the halfway mark now, but my senses and ability to feel love have increased exponentially with age, with experience.  When the years rolled out ahead like there was no end in sight, I didn’t have to be as cautious in gathering memory, in recording the story, in remembering.  But now that the lasts are happening, I don’t want to miss anything, not one thing.

2011 ~ 2012

One year rolls into another.  And the year we have just lived, all the beauty and joy and ups and downs and round-abouts and surprises and laughs, the tears, the disappointments, the things that did not go our way – all of it, with the slightest move of a second hand on a clock becomes {*tick} last year, {*tock} a new year.

The days ahead

We get this brand-spanking-new-year in just a few hours.   It will be filled with so much yet-undiscovered adventure.  I am hoping for 3 new grandbebes in 2012 – or at least some good work toward that!  *smile.  And I am excited to see what God is going to do through Heaven Fest this year and the songs I have yet to sing and the seasons changing and the garden tomatoes filling my counters and time with the love and watching the incredible lives of my children whom I cherish and the children they share…but like the author of the book, my prayer is, even as each day brings new things in a new year, “Let me hold on longer, God, to every precious last.”

{that was to have been the end of the post..but it turned out not to be the end}

This was totally unrelated

Gavin took a quick break from Christmas packing-away for a snack.  I turned on the TV and an old Rockford Files episode was on.  I said to the grand-boy, “See James Garner?  Now that is some swagger.”

“What show is this, anyway?” he asked me.

“‘The Rockford Files’ from the 1970’s!” I told him.

He grimmaced and asked “Why do people want shows from the 70s anyway?  Do they wish they had a time machine so they could go back there or something?”

Haha.  Laugh. Laugh. Maybe…

But then it became related

Just now, as I was about ready to push the “publish” button on this post, Gavin was leaving to go home to have a special New Year’s Eve night with his family, games and snacks and good times.  He came to say good-bye and I hugged him tight and said, “One last kiss in 2011.”  He kissed my cheek.  I feigned sorrow, “But now my other cheek needs one last kiss in 2011 – for you and I will never hug and kiss in 2011 ever again.”  He giggled and kissed my other cheek before bolting toward the door as he quipped,

“Nuh-uh, Nonna – I will build a time machine to come back to 2011.”

{Heart m e l t i n g }  And I would get into that machine, Gav, to collect all the lasts I have maybe missed.

Hello, 2012

Dear 2011 – you gave me all the days you promised you would and I will carry them in my heart forever.

Ok, Stephanie Morgan-you did this to me.  Love you for the sharing.  But you’re killing me! xxoo END RE-POST

If I could only plant one thing

Garden Philosophy:

If you try to plant too many things, you will be defeated.  But if you start with one or maybe three things that you simply must grow for they cannot be purchased to perfection like you could grow them, then you will not only survive, you will thrive.  And since you are only really counting on those one-to-three things, since they are getting all your love, you’ll end up realizing, Well, I could probably tuck a basil plant here since I am here frequently, and maybe a few radishes under the shade of the zucchini leaves.  And soon you’ll be companion planting and actually doing more than you thought.

But if you go to the store and buy 37 packages of seeds, you are doomed.  Doomed.

My favorites.

I started out gardening with ZERO experience in 1997.  I am a city girl with a farmer’s heart – except that they have to pretty much work the farm 24/7 365 days a year and I am not quite that committed.  I decided on tomatoes.

My Aunt Rosie always served us home grown tomatoes fresh from her garden and regardless of whatever else was served, they were like having the best Texas steak you have ever seen on your plate.

8-17-08-009 tomato-1

So when I decided to do it, I actually went to the library and checked out about 17 veggie garden books and one wholly devoted to tomatoes and read and read and read.  The author of the tomato book basically said, “If you’re going to grow tomatoes, you should grow the best ones on the block.  Do not go into it half-heartedly.  Do everything possible to have the sweetest, biggest, most amazing tomatoes anyone has ever seen.”  So, as a tribute to all the books I’d read about them, I actually planted about 17 tomatoes plants and they were the BEST tomatoes I had ever seen in my life!  Now-the neighbors and everyone I knew dreaded seeing me coming, but I kept everyone I knew fully tomato’ed!

Other stuff I like to grow

Zucchini and yellow squash are great to grow for grilling.  But they take a lot of room.  I grow them mainly because I can feel haughty when I am in the store and they are selling for $1.00 each and I have just picked 7 or 8 of them for dinner.  ALWAYS pick them young, slice in thick on the diagonal, toss them in extra-virgin olive oil, season and grill.  You get great grill marks and they are delectable!

Peas are the gardener’s candy.  Sugar snap peas are wonderful because you can eat the whole pod or not, as you wish.  Great stir-fry.  Very sweet.  The grandbabies and I snack while we work!

Radishes.  Don’t try these in the heat of summer.  They get too hot.  But they grow quickly and are very fresh and crisp early.  Plant them outside now if you want.

Beans are easy.  Every kindergartener starts out this way.

Peppers are great.  They are pretty plants, too, so they make a great potted plant and there are just so many varieties you can’t get in the store.

I also like lettuces, and sometimes okra and the eggplant is so pretty (but I always forget how to fix them).  So many directions a person could go.  And don’t forget to tuck in some marigolds and nasturtiums while you’re at it.  They’re edible, add some beautiful color and keep the icky bugs away to boot!

My real bottom line.

But there I go again – telling you too many things at once. 

So, if I could only plant one thing, it would be tomatoes.  Those transparent-barely-pink things on your fast food burgers are NOT tomatoes.  Late summer, you can find some great tomatoes at the farmer’s market, but there is nothing, I mean nothing, like growing your own.

They are worth the effort, the babying, the prep, the watching, the watering and weeding!  And if you can grow the tomato, which is THE most wondrous thing, you can now grow anything!  Good times!

I Corinthians 15.35b   The Message:  We do have a parallel experience in gardening. You plant a “dead” seed; soon there is a flourishing plant. There is no visual likeness between seed and plant. You could never guess what a tomato would look like by looking at a tomato seed. What we plant in the soil and what grows out of it don’t look anything alike. The dead body that we bury in the ground and the resurrection body that comes from it will be dramatically different.

Tomatoes, of course!  And maybe…

About three years ago I was in a meltdown during planting season.  It was the middle of June and I hadn’t done anything.  There sat my 3 4-foot-by-4-foot boxes: empty.  I knew I had no strength to accomplish anything, to plant, but I needed something.  I planted a purchased tomato plant in one.  One had 3 green bean “volunteers” coming up, so I just put a trellis in it (seeds from the previous year had gone into the soil and were growing with no effort on my part) and I found a zucchini seed or two in my produce drawer in a little baggie and popped those in to the final garden square.

They filled my three boxes.  They actually looked beautiful and tended to.  They grew though I was barely functioning and every single day they gave me the hope I needed that normalcy would return and I would grow past the place I was in.  Every day a new leaf or flowering would appear, I knew I was another day past the sorrow – that life would happen again.

Those were all I could handle.  Yet, we had zucchini and beans and tomatoes that summer as if I had worked for them.  It was like God tended my garden when I couldn’t.  It was God and it was good…

So go easy on yourself and garden!…Jeanie

NOTE TO SELF:  I am not behind, either.

pictured: scouting out last year’s tomatoes one evening…I spy!

When did God Start to Love Me?


When did You start to love me, Father?  When I made my first confession of faith?  Or the thirty-second one?  Was it when I got seriously committed to my Bible-reading plan or more regular in my times of extended prayer?

Because it seems earlier.  I have known Your love as I have received each grandchild into my arms for the first time.  I have understood Your devotion in raising my children from the first to the last, all the way until it was finished.  When they were birthed from my body into the world, I grasped the glorious moment of man’s creation as “heaven and earth” passed through me.  At the altar of marriage I sensed the abiding gift of Your love over my life – mine to receive.

So when did You begin to love me?

Zechariah 12.1  Was it when You stretched out the heavens and laid the foundation of the earth, could You already comprehend the spirit You would form in me?

Ecclesiastes 11.5  Was it when you were forming my body in my mother’s womb – just as surely as You created the paths for the winds?

Psalm 139.13-16  Or was it when You created my inmost being, as You were knitting me together in my mother’s womb?

Could it have been before that, even?  Did You already “get” me, decide to love me when I was being made in the ‘secret place,’  woven together in the depths of the earth, where already, You understood the look, the frame of me?

Before even one of my days had come to be, You had already written the book, told the story of my life – every single day of it.  Did You like what You had written?  Could You see me as a character You loved and wanted to follow?  You are my Author.  Are You finishing my story in a way that brings You joy?

Job 10.8-12  You gave me life and watched over my spirit, the soul of me,  even as Your hands touched me, shaped me like clay and molded and made me.  When You were knitting me together and clothing me with skin and flesh – is that when You began to love me?

Isaiah 49.1-2  Before I was even born You called me and at my birth You named me.  You gave me unmistakeable characteristics.  Why?

Jeremiah 1.4-5  Before I was even born, You set me apart and made an appointment for my life.  Before I was born You knew me.  You knew me.  How?  How did You know?

When did You start to love me?

Galatians 1.15-16   Was it when you set me apart from birth, calling me by Your grace?  Is this when You started loving me?

I don’t know when.  I cannot comprehend how.  But I am so thankful for Your love.  That You – so loved – even me.

“How precious are Your thoughts about me, O God.  They cannot be numbered.  I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand!  And when I wake up, You are still with me.”  Psalm 139. 17-18  NLT


In WWM staff prayer yesterday, s-i-l, Dave, prayed a prayer of yieldedness.  We pondered for a few moments on what it means to yield our hearts, our lives, our thoughts, opinions and desires to God.  “Here I am, “ many people in the Bible responded to God.

As Dave restated that phrase: Here I am, I suddenly saw it and heard it differently.

Here, I Am.

I caught a fleeting glimpse of the meaning of yieldedness.  To say Here I am is to say You be here, Great I Am.

Here, God (I AM) be in this circumstance.  Here in our home, I Am, reign.  Be here, I AM, in this hour of indecision, these times of heartbreak, this uncertain future.  Here, I Am.  I surrender to You.  Be here.  Be here…

Healing Rain is Falling Down

Times are hard right now for a lot of people.  A newer friend of mine just lost her job and is now homeless, living in her car.  Another friend’s brother-in-law is having to work across the state, away from his wife and young children to keep food in their mouths.  An amazing pastor’s wife has breast cancer and is facing major surgery in a few days.  One beautiful family struggles through prolonged accusation and custody hearings, sapping life-strength one agonizing day at a time.  A brother is fighting his way back to his family from addictions that have ripped his soul, and crushed his family’s hearts.  Everywhere I look, the result of the fall is wreaking havoc.

Yet, in these same circumstances and many more I am watching, grace is flowing like water.  The faithful are rejecting the fear and looking to Jesus, and oh, what a beautiful sight as their faces reflect the glory of the One who is holding them steady – walking right beside them through these things.

Think about this, my friends, and don’t lose heart.  This is what Jesus did so He could complete HIS work in YOU:

“Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.  Consider Him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.”  Hebrews 12.2-3

He is your Author, your story-writer and He endured it all so He could make sure it ends with a glorious flourish.  He is in all the way to the finish with you!

Dave and Tara blew me away singing the last part of a Michael W. Smith song at church on Sunday.  I did a quick search for it this morning and the video actually captures, right toward the end, what I have been “seeing” in the Spirit in the lives of the people I mentioned here – a looking to Jesus, a receiving of His healing and blessing.  Check out the video and stay with it, and then sing it, declare it:

Healing rain, I’m not afraid to be washed in heaven’s rain. 

Healing rain is falling down.  I’m not afraid!  I’m not afraid!

Healing rain is falling down. 

I’m not afraid!  I’m not afraid!

Don’t lose heart.  Don’t be afraid.  He is not finished yet…Jeanie

NOTE TO SELF:  He. Is. My. Author.  My story is His.

The Sacred Romance, Some Catching Up

Heather and I commented on Chapter Ten here.   Amy Jo shared her thoughts on both Chapters 10 and 11 here.   And now our good friend, Candi shares some insights she has received from Chapters 10 and  11: “On the Road,” and “Desert Communion – Learning to Live on Heaven’s Shores”  and I add my 2-cents’ worth on Chapter 11.  
pictured:   Heather and her family and Amy Jo and her husband

We are nearing the  end of the book,  The Sacred  Romance~Drawing Closer to the Heart of God  by John Elderidge and Brent Curtis.   We have all been reading the book and jotting down our reactions and thoughts to share with you.   I am glad to know some of you have read the book along with us and even though you didn’t necessarily wish to “tell all” via the blog, it has been good to hear how God has reaffirmed His love to you through the reading.   If you want to re-cap where we started and see how far we have come during our “summer romance”, just click on the “Sacred Romance” category link on the left, or here to get you started.


Candi picks up at Chapter 10: I’ve been away from The Sacred Romance for awhile.   Not THE Sacred Romance, but the book.   In fact, although I’ve been out of the book I have completely had THE Sacred Romance on my mind the whole time.   As I reread Chapter 10 (I’ve read it about 4 times now) I’m realizing that I AM starting to view things differently, from a different perspective.   It is all about “wondering what God is up to in all of this.”   Pg 145.  

I’m ready for the Journey.   From Pg. 149,   “So much of the journey forward involves a letting go of all that once brought us life.   We turn away from the familiar abiding places of the heart, the false selves we have lived out, the strengths we have used to make a place for ourselves and all our false loves, and we venture forth in our hearts to trace the steps of the One who said, ‘Follow me.’   In a way, it means that we stop pretending: that life is better than it is, that we are happier than we are, that the false selves we present to the world are really us.”As I prepare for the journey (finally!) I’m looking back at the many times I’ve desired to go on it but for various reasons have not completely surrendered to it.   I’m starting to analyze past situations, relationships, thoughts, “Nits”, and my roles in them for what many of them really were, but I’m also asking what God’s real purpose is in all of this.   It’s really been a path to discovery more than a hard road.   And it’s all leading me to Jesus!

About 3 years ago I started realizing that my focus for salvation was for what I could get (the streets of gold!) rather than really desiring and fostering a relationship with God.   A dear spiritual teacher (MaryJean!) gave me this and I pass it along because it really was the beginning to my Sacred Romance with Jesus:


              It’s not healing I need – It’s the healer.

It’s not help I need – It’s the helper.

It’s not comfort I need – It’s the comforter.

It’s not teaching I need – It’s the teacher.

It’s not provision I need – It’s the provider.

It’s not protection I need – It’s the defender.

It’s not strength I need – It’s the strong one.

I don’t need to get a life; I need life, HIMSELF.

On Chapter 11: Now I find myself at a time of desert communion.   I understand this as the path that I’ve been on from reading this.   Had I written on this a month ago I wouldn’t have had much application.   Just this past month my husband and I have completely stepped out of ministry at our church.   A couple years ago our church faced a “perfect storm” scenario that if it wasn’t for God’s will and power I know it may not have survived.   At times like this God calls you to help man the ship although you may not be the best sailor.   You do the best you can through obedience knowing that He will provide the sails.   Well, through God’s glory there has been much healing and the church is sailing on much more secure waters.  

My husband and I were still a part of the crew.   However, we were still feeling caught up in the “doing” of it all.   I was trying to seek God in the aftermath, but too busy to really hear Him.   Isn’t it funny we were “doing” church things?   And so, for our various reasons we have stopped everything.   In this break, I’m asking myself, “Is my identity synonymous with activity?”   Pg. 163.   “Am I experiencing my spiritual life not as a love affair, but as burdensome, heavy, exhausting and alien?”   Pg. 165.

Jesus’ answer is this:  

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.   Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.   For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matt. 11:28-30)  

“Only Christ can carry us to rest.   The kinds of ‘doing’s’ we have learned are not weighty enough to allow us to walk in the spiritual fields of the kingdom of God.”   Pg. 169.

My next destination on my journey, I now know, is to “give up everything else but Him.   We experience the freedom of knowing that he simply loves us where we are.   We begin to just be, having our identity anchored in him.   We begin to experience our spiritual life as the ‘easy yoke and light burden’ Jesus tells us is his experience.”   Pg. 175.

Lord, I pray that I am always “hearing” your soft whisper and in turn whispering back to you.   Forgive me for not always making our desert communion the focus of my spiritual walk, and instill in me a repentant attitude.   Bring healing, rest, focus, and peace at this time, so I can serve once again with my whole heart to glorify your Name.

My turn on Chapter 11 (Jeanie):   This chapter is about learning to rest in God and His unbridled love for us as we follow Christ’s own tradition (as well as early church “Desert  Fathers”) to pull away from the restlessness and activity of life into the “spiritual disciplines of silence, solitude, meditation (heart prayer), fasting and simplicity” (Mark Buchanan includes these in his “holy habits” in the book, Your God is too Safe).

The author talks about that place when you really stop for just a minute, when you have pulled your heart away from your adrenalin-addicted, activity captivity and your heart tells you how truly tired and burdened and worn down you are.   He said, “…it is of no use to ask God to give us energy to make our way back up the cliff over which we have fallen.”   I had to laugh at that because I have tried.   Lord knows I have prayed and prayed (God, heal me, give me energy to do kingdom work, yada yada yada)  and made all my friends pray it, too!  

But I love the prayer in the book, “Jesus, help me.   All my lovers have failed me.   Forgive me.   I cannot quench my thirst.   Give me the water of life.”   It is prayer God can answer in the deep places of our hearts.     And He’ll tell us, “Go, and sin no more.”

I’ve most recently been overwhelmed in the tiniest beginning of understanding about the Father-Heart of God towards me.   And in that, God is practically leading me through verdant woodlands of his love, green lush life and babbling brooks of refreshment, a recognition that all He has is mine because, and simply because, I am His child.   He is a few steps ahead and spreading the branches so I can navigate this place of purity and life.   I keep getting glimpses, as He is calling me toward Himself, right over here, Jeanie, come on, and I can see my true homeland just beyond in fleeting moments.   Just a few more steps and I may actually get this thing…

But I backslide.   I slide back into thinking I need to impress Him with my righteousness or my work for Him or by “paying my own way.”   Wait – the branches just moved.   He keeps wooing me.   My Father loves me.   It is OK for me to go into the desert with Him.   It is OK not to have an answer when some one wonders what all I have been “doing” for Him.   He calls us to the Secret Place.

I so enjoyed the author’s word pictures describing the intimate and wild-love of the Song of Solomon in direct contrast to the imaginary couple at a sidewalk cafe, where as the bride-to-be is talking about her excitement for the upcoming wedding and how she can’t wait to get to know her  lover better and be with him more and experience true intimacy, he, a cad, tells her, “I’ll send you a book that describes more about my life.   I’m sure you’ll get a lot out of it,” and “…I’d like to send you to a weekend seminar [about intimacy with me] and that should be very helpful.”   The writers pointed out that that is the way we very often carry on our love affair with God.   When in reality, the conversation would be more like that in The Song of Songs, which everybody knows is some pretty hot talk!   But on page 161 when the  writer is explaining that God isn’t giving us this glimpse through the bedroom window at the love affair between Solomon and the Queen of Sheba just to be voyeuristic (but rather to realize that “this is the kind of passion He feels for us and desires from us in return”), I had to laugh!  

It turns out I am, indeed, the Queen of Sheba!   Spiritually speaking, of course, and you are, too!

Sincerely Yours, The Queen of Sheba, aka…Jeanie
NOTE TO SELF:   So grateful for the friends who have so openly shared the glimpses of God’s work in their lives through their responses to this book.   That ain’t always easy!

Everybody has a Story

This is a BEFORE and AFTER video, an extreme makeover that counts.

Before watching-keep in mind that this video is a  local church thing and was originally used before taking an annual offering, I think.   But no matter how you watch it-it is powerful.   It’s basically a bunch of people lining up to give their “cardboard testimonies” on one side of a piece of cardboard telling who they once were.   The other side proclaims who they are now in Christ.   I cry everytime I watch it and it inspires me to look at people, really look at them – even when they are being the most annoying of Christians and wonder “What is your story, anyway?   How did Jesus Christ change you?   What did He rescue you from?”  

The two that get me the most are the brain tumor and the couple who couldn’t have children.  

I am trying to think about what mine  might be.  

Maybe, side one: rule-following, religious, pious, rage-filled church girl.   Side two: exposed, accepted in the Beloved, dancing and singing, joyous worshipper.

Where were you when He found you?