I watched him carry a cross up the side walk and I watched in my rear view mirror as he walked the crest of the hill and disappeared down the other side.
Good Friday does strange things to people.
Him with the brown jacket and jeans trying to feel the weight of the cross Jesus carried.
I kept thinking of him trying to enter Jesus' suffering.
I think of the young wife entering her husbands suffering, the mystery of it all and her commitment to not only stay but love through sickness and health till death do them part. She enters the suffering of it not knowing if death will come sooner to their young marriage than they thought.
And the girl who tries desperately to avoid entering the suffering of her past knowing no way but to cut her smooth olive skin to escape it. And fearing to hope because of the sickness and suffering deferred hope has brought to her heart.
The boy who has grown in knowledge of the one who suffered but cannot figure how that relieves his sufferings. So He pursues religion and relationships and suffers still. Suffers still more from the emptiness of those pursuits.
And the wife and daughters who celebrate this Easter with the man who loved other woman and now tries to suffer to amend their suffering. And silence marks the event that exploded in their house a year ago, but the suffering in their hearts, it will not be silent. And anger seems to only voice that speaks in that house.
The girl, the one who doesn't believe in good or evil or God because of the funeral 3 years ago that was for her daddy who took his own life. His life that consisted of church every week and God talks through out the week. Her suffering is no where near expiring.
And the babies in India who are sold by the parents. Their suffering and the horror their heart know will never dissipate this side of heaven.
And this Good Friday is a suffering Friday.
And I think of the man carrying that wooden cross on the side walk as I drove past.
What suffering does his heart know?
And my heart cries for an explanation.
My heart demands a change a resolution that is tangible and physical and full of relief.
And I know it is not right and I know it does not match the joyful cries that others are raising this Friday.
But still it is there and so is the question I have exhausted in every arena and it breaks the silence of my car.
Why?
Why the hurt and the evil and the suffering?
Why the broken hearts and the broken bodies?
And your position Lord it feels so far off and distant.
And he gives no audible answer.
And I sit at the red light.
Why the hurt?
And I am reminded and my heart stills.
My heart is reminded of his position on that Good Friday.
Wasn't He hurt?
And hadn't he tasted evil that night, that Good Friday? The taste of bread and wine mixed with the knowledge, the heaviness of what was about to be consumed.
Wasn't he about to consume the suffering so we could be consummated.
And hadn't he suffered for our salvation.
And his broken body could it even compare to the wrath that broke on his shoulders that night.
And it strikes me... again.
Our brokenness is healed by his holiness and the holes that pierced his body to pierce the sin that put holes in us.
And our aloneness it needs to meet with his presence.
And our evil his atonement.
And I am reminded of Tullian's quote
"In our suffering we do not need an answer we need his presence."
And I agree with Ann
"We do not need an explanation we need an experience." And I would add an experience from and experienced one.
The man I passed, the one trying to enter and feel the weight of the cross he will try.
But this Jesus, he was tried so that our trying could end and in our trials his trial reminds us that there is something weightier than this present moment waiting for us.
His suffering was cause by our sinning But the cross he carried that Good Friday it was his choosing, his entering and it is this entering that gives hope to our living. Lives under crosses of abandon and adultery and broken promises and broken marriages and debt and divorce and cancer and miscarriages and missed chances.
It is his suffering that comforts the inconsolable and breeds hope where hurt has reigned.
It is his bearing of the wrath that makes it possible to choose the yoke that he has offered to share. A light yoke, a teaching yoke.
It is because he swallowed death that now we can taste and digest all of life, not just the tasty, palatable morsels. But the bitter, tasteless moments too.
It is because of him that we do not have to exhaust explications but can exist in his presence confidently and comforted because of and by his suffering in our suffering.
I applaud the man trying to enter the suffering on the side walk this morning but looking around there is little trying to enter.
If anyone has entered this world they, I, we have entered suffering.
But it is the entrance that was unexpected in a little barn in Bethlehem and the exit that was unexplainable on a wooden, shameful cross that allows us to experience the presence of the suffering and identifying Jesus in our present and unexplained (or explained) suffering.
We suffer with hope and patience and yes even contentment because he has entered our eroding and suffered and carried our sinning and shame and shaming and stays present in our pressures.
And the world watches our suffering from their suffering and maybe that is what will draw them to the Well of Life like we draw water from the life that was made well after his own suffering.
A Reminder for the Wounded
I kid you not I stared at the blue slip and cried.
I cried when I took it, I cried as they filled it and as I ate the tablet and as I drove home from it all.
I cried when I took it, I cried as they filled it and as I ate the tablet and as I drove home from it all.
And then I cried.
You might be confused, it's not a fatal diagnosis, it's won't require anything but a few daily pills and then after a while we will see if I can do life with out the small tablet.
But in that moment I felt hypocritical
I have passionately spoken truth that Jesus is sufficient and anxiety is a practical unbelief in that truth.
I felt like wounds that I have begun to heal from were exposed again.
I thought of the wounds that had made a young heart anxious and a young mind developer such a coping skill.
I thought about the wounds that shouldn't be there and cried that they still define how I respond and react to fear and stress and anxiety.
I cry because in that small room my smallness and weakness are undeniable-holding what I would consider medicine for the weak- and my pride is wounded.
And I call brown hair and brown eyes to hear truth. And she tells me and I listen.
And at the end of her words I think "Maybe our wounds are the only reminder we have that we need his wounds."
The woman the one that bled
The one who bled until life and resources and community and intimacy were gone.
The woman wounded she sought out the one who had come to be wounded for her healing.
There were other woman you know, in other towns and homes and places that never touched the healer.
"Daughter" he had called her.
And every gospel uses daughter's story to tell the greatness of the Father.
And her story it helps to tell how the God of the whole universe chose to glorify himself not by damning the ones bent on his wounding but by becoming one of the wounded.
Can we ever understand it? That the mighty Warrior would take a fatal wound so we the wounders could be healed and whole, perfectly, eternally loved.
He would have been full of greatness and justice and glory had we, the simultaneous victim and villain, experienced the fatal wounding. But he, like only he could, carried our wounding and remains great and just and full of glory. He married in his body mercy and justice and because of that we are healed are healing.
And these wounds that I am learning to lay down,they are just wounds from being human. And they hold no glory. We must be very careful not to glorify, magnify or minimize the wounds. But we can use them to magnify, glorify, prioritize and remember The Wounded One that he is healing and has healed, they lead me to the healer and remind me that I need his wounds. They remind me that he was wounded for my sin for my villain heart that won't beat right because I forget this truth.
And this heart that won't beat right and my head that won't think right? I think about them and I am reminded that they have been touched and claimed by him and I am learning what the medicinal truth of being his really means.
You might be confused, it's not a fatal diagnosis, it's won't require anything but a few daily pills and then after a while we will see if I can do life with out the small tablet.
But in that moment I felt hypocritical
I have passionately spoken truth that Jesus is sufficient and anxiety is a practical unbelief in that truth.
I felt like wounds that I have begun to heal from were exposed again.
I thought of the wounds that had made a young heart anxious and a young mind developer such a coping skill.
I thought about the wounds that shouldn't be there and cried that they still define how I respond and react to fear and stress and anxiety.
I cry because in that small room my smallness and weakness are undeniable-holding what I would consider medicine for the weak- and my pride is wounded.
And I call brown hair and brown eyes to hear truth. And she tells me and I listen.
And at the end of her words I think "Maybe our wounds are the only reminder we have that we need his wounds."
The woman the one that bled
The one who bled until life and resources and community and intimacy were gone.
The woman wounded she sought out the one who had come to be wounded for her healing.
There were other woman you know, in other towns and homes and places that never touched the healer.
"Daughter" he had called her.
And every gospel uses daughter's story to tell the greatness of the Father.
And her story it helps to tell how the God of the whole universe chose to glorify himself not by damning the ones bent on his wounding but by becoming one of the wounded.
Can we ever understand it? That the mighty Warrior would take a fatal wound so we the wounders could be healed and whole, perfectly, eternally loved.
He would have been full of greatness and justice and glory had we, the simultaneous victim and villain, experienced the fatal wounding. But he, like only he could, carried our wounding and remains great and just and full of glory. He married in his body mercy and justice and because of that we are healed are healing.
And these wounds that I am learning to lay down,they are just wounds from being human. And they hold no glory. We must be very careful not to glorify, magnify or minimize the wounds. But we can use them to magnify, glorify, prioritize and remember The Wounded One that he is healing and has healed, they lead me to the healer and remind me that I need his wounds. They remind me that he was wounded for my sin for my villain heart that won't beat right because I forget this truth.
And this heart that won't beat right and my head that won't think right? I think about them and I am reminded that they have been touched and claimed by him and I am learning what the medicinal truth of being his really means.
It Would Not Have Been Enough
Standing at my sink I listen to the teaching from Passion
Listening to the teaching from January, now in March a week away from Easter it seems appropriate
that she teaches on the passover;
She teaches about the cups and the hymn and I listen
The first cup is poured and taken
The cup that represents "I will bring you out"
The second cup is filled
The cup that represents "I will deliver you from slavery"
and the antiphony begins;
and the phrase dyenu- literally "It would have been enough" is repeated again and again.
how many favors has God bestowed on us?
Had he brought us out of Egypt but not executed judgment against our enemies
Dyenu- It would have been enough
Had he given us their possessions but not divided the sea for us
It would have been enough
Had he divided the sea for us but not brought us through it on dry land
It would have been enough
Had he sustained us in the wilderness for 40 years but not fed us manna
It would have been enough
Had he fed us with manna but not given us the Sabbath
Dyenu
Had he given us the sabbath but not brought us to Mt. Siana
Dyenu
Had he brought us to Mount Siana but not given us the Torah
Dyenu
Had he given us the Torah but not brought us into the land of Israel
It would have been enough
Had he brought us into the land of Israel but not built us the temple
It would have been enough
And the host of the table concludes by saying
But how much more so multiplied over are the favors our God has bestowed upon us
The antiphony is beautiful, and for a time it was enough.
But the more, that is what really is enough.
Had he only given sight to the blind
It would not have been enough
Had he only healed the broken
It would not have been enough
Had he only called out demons from the oppressed and depressed
It would not have been enough
Had Jesus only been born of a virgin but not lived according to the law
It would not have been enough
Had Jesus only lived according to the law but not fulfilled the prophesies
It would not have been enough
Had Jesus only fulfilled the prophesies but not drank the wrath of God
It would not have been enough
Had Jesus only taken the wrath of God but not risen
It would not have been enough
And nobody knew but Jesus that with out his blood it was not enough
Jesus knew that crimson red had been flowing inside of him because with out it's flow and overflow
the passover would not have been enough
That night stars were brought out and families came to feast loaded tables to take 4 cups representing
Cup 1- I will bring you out
Cup 2- I will deliver you from slavery
Cup 3- I will redeem you
Cup 4- I will take you as my people
but Jesus knew that if he was not willing to drink the wrap that we pressed like grapes into
wine beneath our own feet
drinking the liquid filled cup continually it would not be enough
Matthew 26:30 it tells us they sang a hymn and tradition tells us they sang Psalm 118
As his voice cut the night air think of the relational ties that were about to be severed
"Out of my distress I called on the LORD; the LORD answered me and set me free."
And remember the prayer that is about to spill from his very skin, as he sings
"The LORD is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do to me? The LORD is on my side as my helper; I shall look in triumph on those who hate me...."
And the hymn concludes after many stanzas
"You are my God, and I will give thanks to you; you are my God; I will extol you."
And as he hold the third cup
The cup that says to all who partake "I will redeem you"
The cup that reminds him of the wrath he must drink for our redemption
he sings
"Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever."
And I sit and I think;
It is enough.
And because of this truth my heart can now sing
"Oh give thanks to the self-self sustaining, self determining one (Why?) because he is good (and has put his goodness on me) his steadfast love (his love with no exit-strategy) it goes on and goes on and goes on and goes on and goes on and never stops going on."
And this I remember
And it is enough.
Listening to the teaching from January, now in March a week away from Easter it seems appropriate
that she teaches on the passover;
She teaches about the cups and the hymn and I listen
The first cup is poured and taken
The cup that represents "I will bring you out"
The second cup is filled
The cup that represents "I will deliver you from slavery"
and the antiphony begins;
and the phrase dyenu- literally "It would have been enough" is repeated again and again.
how many favors has God bestowed on us?
Had he brought us out of Egypt but not executed judgment against our enemies
Dyenu- It would have been enough
Had he given us their possessions but not divided the sea for us
It would have been enough
Had he divided the sea for us but not brought us through it on dry land
It would have been enough
Had he sustained us in the wilderness for 40 years but not fed us manna
It would have been enough
Had he fed us with manna but not given us the Sabbath
Dyenu
Had he given us the sabbath but not brought us to Mt. Siana
Dyenu
Had he brought us to Mount Siana but not given us the Torah
Dyenu
Had he given us the Torah but not brought us into the land of Israel
It would have been enough
Had he brought us into the land of Israel but not built us the temple
It would have been enough
And the host of the table concludes by saying
But how much more so multiplied over are the favors our God has bestowed upon us
The antiphony is beautiful, and for a time it was enough.
But the more, that is what really is enough.
Had he only given sight to the blind
It would not have been enough
Had he only healed the broken
It would not have been enough
Had he only called out demons from the oppressed and depressed
It would not have been enough
Had Jesus only been born of a virgin but not lived according to the law
It would not have been enough
Had Jesus only lived according to the law but not fulfilled the prophesies
It would not have been enough
Had Jesus only fulfilled the prophesies but not drank the wrath of God
It would not have been enough
Had Jesus only taken the wrath of God but not risen
It would not have been enough
And nobody knew but Jesus that with out his blood it was not enough
Jesus knew that crimson red had been flowing inside of him because with out it's flow and overflow
the passover would not have been enough
That night stars were brought out and families came to feast loaded tables to take 4 cups representing
Cup 1- I will bring you out
Cup 2- I will deliver you from slavery
Cup 3- I will redeem you
Cup 4- I will take you as my people
but Jesus knew that if he was not willing to drink the wrap that we pressed like grapes into
wine beneath our own feet
drinking the liquid filled cup continually it would not be enough
Matthew 26:30 it tells us they sang a hymn and tradition tells us they sang Psalm 118
As his voice cut the night air think of the relational ties that were about to be severed
"Out of my distress I called on the LORD; the LORD answered me and set me free."
And remember the prayer that is about to spill from his very skin, as he sings
"The LORD is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do to me? The LORD is on my side as my helper; I shall look in triumph on those who hate me...."
And the hymn concludes after many stanzas
"You are my God, and I will give thanks to you; you are my God; I will extol you."
And as he hold the third cup
The cup that says to all who partake "I will redeem you"
The cup that reminds him of the wrath he must drink for our redemption
he sings
"Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever."
And I sit and I think;
It is enough.
And because of this truth my heart can now sing
"Oh give thanks to the self-self sustaining, self determining one (Why?) because he is good (and has put his goodness on me) his steadfast love (his love with no exit-strategy) it goes on and goes on and goes on and goes on and goes on and never stops going on."
And this I remember
And it is enough.
In the ocean, as a fish, with a scuba mask on
I'm that girl.
The one raised with hymns and AWANA and church twice on Sundays and once on Wednesday.
I'm that girl.
The one that uses phrases like "Deny your flesh to embrace the body."
Yup, that's me and I am her.
The one born and raised, stewed in Christian culture.
Fed daily doses of the Lord's prayer and tithes and offerings.
I can debate sanctification and passionately quote chapters of the bible.
But lately I want more.
I know it, I really do.
But I want more than this head knowledge and ankle lapping water waves.
I want to know.
I don't want irregular waves that crash my frame once in a while. I want to drown in the ocean, daily.
I want to be like Mary who sat at Jesus feet and knew his words but then took her alabaster jar into the house of her adversaries to anoint the feet of her advocate.
I want to be the man who knew about the treasure and then sold everything he had to buy the field pregnant with that very treasure.
I want to say with the Israelites that I, my belly, expands because of the food that comes from heaven.
I know peace but I want to know peace
like only a runner can know the cool of rain at the end of a long, hot run.
I know truth but I want to taste it
Like one knows the taste of chocolate ice cream.
I know joy but I want it to hydrate my heart daily like the well did for Hagar in the desert.
I know contentment but I want to know heart satisfaction only in the one who satisfied the wrath of God.
The song with the line "If grace is an ocean we're all sinking"
I've been thinking about it and I wonder;
What do you do when you're sinking into the water but the water of life isn't sinking into you?
I feel like I live in the deep, the promises of God strong and all around me.
On my bathroom mirror- The God of the universe is working my good for his name sake.
In my car- I was a slave to sin but now I am a first born son inheriting the best of it all.
On my breakfast table- He commands lightning, waves, store houses of hail.
In my words- When God bids a man he calls, come and die.
I feel like I'm in the ocean and I'm a fish breathing through a scuba mask.
It makes no sense, the water of life is all around me, how do I take the mask off and let the natural current of the ocean fill me like it was meant to?
How do I turn my guilt driven giving and loving and sacrificing into heart deep groans for Jesus' kingdom to come?
How do I give and love and sacrifice based on the kingdoms value knowing I wouldn't invest in anything else, because that would be ridiculous.
How do I change the currency of my life so the kingdom is the largest bill?
How do I clothe myself in acceptance bought for me in such a way that I am free to be rejected?
How do I palate God's magnitude and my minuteness?
I know these things, but how much I just want to taste these things and have them expand inside of me so that what I eat becomes who I am.
The one raised with hymns and AWANA and church twice on Sundays and once on Wednesday.
I'm that girl.
The one that uses phrases like "Deny your flesh to embrace the body."
Yup, that's me and I am her.
The one born and raised, stewed in Christian culture.
Fed daily doses of the Lord's prayer and tithes and offerings.
I can debate sanctification and passionately quote chapters of the bible.
But lately I want more.
I know it, I really do.
But I want more than this head knowledge and ankle lapping water waves.
I want to know.
I don't want irregular waves that crash my frame once in a while. I want to drown in the ocean, daily.
I want to be like Mary who sat at Jesus feet and knew his words but then took her alabaster jar into the house of her adversaries to anoint the feet of her advocate.
I want to be the man who knew about the treasure and then sold everything he had to buy the field pregnant with that very treasure.
I want to say with the Israelites that I, my belly, expands because of the food that comes from heaven.
I know peace but I want to know peace
like only a runner can know the cool of rain at the end of a long, hot run.
I know truth but I want to taste it
Like one knows the taste of chocolate ice cream.
I know joy but I want it to hydrate my heart daily like the well did for Hagar in the desert.
I know contentment but I want to know heart satisfaction only in the one who satisfied the wrath of God.
The song with the line "If grace is an ocean we're all sinking"
I've been thinking about it and I wonder;
What do you do when you're sinking into the water but the water of life isn't sinking into you?
I feel like I live in the deep, the promises of God strong and all around me.
On my bathroom mirror- The God of the universe is working my good for his name sake.
In my car- I was a slave to sin but now I am a first born son inheriting the best of it all.
On my breakfast table- He commands lightning, waves, store houses of hail.
In my words- When God bids a man he calls, come and die.
I feel like I'm in the ocean and I'm a fish breathing through a scuba mask.
It makes no sense, the water of life is all around me, how do I take the mask off and let the natural current of the ocean fill me like it was meant to?How do I turn my guilt driven giving and loving and sacrificing into heart deep groans for Jesus' kingdom to come?
How do I give and love and sacrifice based on the kingdoms value knowing I wouldn't invest in anything else, because that would be ridiculous.
How do I change the currency of my life so the kingdom is the largest bill?
How do I clothe myself in acceptance bought for me in such a way that I am free to be rejected?
How do I palate God's magnitude and my minuteness?
I know these things, but how much I just want to taste these things and have them expand inside of me so that what I eat becomes who I am.
Lessons in my Bare Feet
I stood in my kitchen bare feet to hardwood floor,
And I prayed.
I prayed for the momma who had waited years for her bitty and now waits longer for results from the doctor about eyes that don't work.
I pray for the daughter that waits to say good bye to her only momma with no siblings to bear the grief that is coming.
I pray for my heart that won't beat right and makes the room spin and go dark, and I feel overwhelmed and inadequate.
I pray for the girl who is beautiful and funny and hates God and the skin that she feels trapped in and tries to cut her way out of it all the anger and hurt and loneliness and accusations that play on repeat in her head.
I pray for the boy who is in a mans body but doesn't know what a man should do because there are so few men left that now boys just grow into boys that have large hands and dark hair on their chins and a conquerors drive but no goal or purpose.
I pray for the future that refuses to comply to my demands. And I try and laugh at it like the woman in Proverbs 31, but it is a timid frightened laugh.
And I am afraid.
Sometimes prayer does that, not that it's meant to.
Not that it means to.
But sometimes when the list of prayers gets long and heavy, I get afraid.
Fear seems so safe.
Like if we meticulously tease out every dark corner and pre-maturely in our minds live the worst we have prepared.
Grace, that is not as safe, beggars can not be choosers and I want to choose.
Why?
Because I am fearful.
Fearful that God is not good.
Fearful that God is not willing.
Grace is only appealing as a trump to fear when we, I, soul deep believe Jesus is for me.
That Psalm 33 is true "The earth is full of the goodness (Steadfast love- love with no exit strategy)of the Lord."
Even hospital rooms and tired days and inadequate skills and uncertain futures.
When the bitty you've waited years for, you wait more.
When the relationship you've built you watch, knowing it is a vapor, soon to dissipate.
There is goodness in the waiting and the results and even the physical pain.
Goodness and grace in it all.
So I stand and I pray, but instead of begging for crumbs from the table I thank for the feast that is mine.
For heaven that waits for undeserving me.
For chicken broth and kale in a black pot on a stove.
For being alienated, with out hope, with out God, far off.... BUT GOD
For cool floors on bare feet.
For mommas that love Jesus and are loved by Jesus.
For brown curls on a bitty head.
For hope and goodness and love.
For room mates that do my dishes.
For steadfast love that has no exit strategy.
Full of goodness and full of love.
I pray- I ask- I thank.
And fear it can not stay because love always trumps fear and thanks always reminds us of how we are loved.
And love does not leave, so while the thanks of daily and eternal things spill from my lips fear must leave my heart.
And I prayed.
I prayed for the momma who had waited years for her bitty and now waits longer for results from the doctor about eyes that don't work.
I pray for the daughter that waits to say good bye to her only momma with no siblings to bear the grief that is coming.
I pray for my heart that won't beat right and makes the room spin and go dark, and I feel overwhelmed and inadequate.
I pray for the girl who is beautiful and funny and hates God and the skin that she feels trapped in and tries to cut her way out of it all the anger and hurt and loneliness and accusations that play on repeat in her head.
I pray for the boy who is in a mans body but doesn't know what a man should do because there are so few men left that now boys just grow into boys that have large hands and dark hair on their chins and a conquerors drive but no goal or purpose.
I pray for the future that refuses to comply to my demands. And I try and laugh at it like the woman in Proverbs 31, but it is a timid frightened laugh.
And I am afraid.
Sometimes prayer does that, not that it's meant to.
Not that it means to.
But sometimes when the list of prayers gets long and heavy, I get afraid.
Fear seems so safe.
Like if we meticulously tease out every dark corner and pre-maturely in our minds live the worst we have prepared.
Grace, that is not as safe, beggars can not be choosers and I want to choose.
Why?
Because I am fearful.
Fearful that God is not good.
Fearful that God is not willing.
Grace is only appealing as a trump to fear when we, I, soul deep believe Jesus is for me.
That Psalm 33 is true "The earth is full of the goodness (Steadfast love- love with no exit strategy)of the Lord."
Even hospital rooms and tired days and inadequate skills and uncertain futures.
When the bitty you've waited years for, you wait more.
When the relationship you've built you watch, knowing it is a vapor, soon to dissipate.
There is goodness in the waiting and the results and even the physical pain.
Goodness and grace in it all.
So I stand and I pray, but instead of begging for crumbs from the table I thank for the feast that is mine.
For heaven that waits for undeserving me.
For chicken broth and kale in a black pot on a stove.
For being alienated, with out hope, with out God, far off.... BUT GOD
For cool floors on bare feet.
For mommas that love Jesus and are loved by Jesus.
For brown curls on a bitty head.
For hope and goodness and love.
For room mates that do my dishes.
For steadfast love that has no exit strategy.
Full of goodness and full of love.
I pray- I ask- I thank.
And fear it can not stay because love always trumps fear and thanks always reminds us of how we are loved.
And love does not leave, so while the thanks of daily and eternal things spill from my lips fear must leave my heart.
When a Stranger Calls
My eyes snapped open and I shot out of what was a perfect Sunday nap when I heard the dog barking below me at the garage door.
Images from When a Stranger Calls immidiatly began playing in my mind.... Well, okay so I just saw the previews but that was enough that I get what happens to the innocent girl in a strange house alone.
Then I could hear the little phrase play in my head on repeat.
"It's so simple, you can choose not to be afraid, Mary"
"You can choose not to be afraid."
I dove under the sheets for my missing sock,put it on and padded down the carpeted stairs.
"Maybe it's a cat, maybe it's a squirrel" I thought as I told my heart to stop racing and started to take normal breaths in and out.
What if we lived choosing to make our emotions submissive to the Word?
The first lie the deceiver told was to Eve; "Did God really say?" translation "Eve, God's holding out on you!" Did Eve hold onto the word, rock solid and generous or did she give into the feelings that God was holding out on her?
What if I practically live this out?
Yes I feel.... but Psalm 103 is true
"Bless the Lord oh MY soul and all that is in ME
He forgives my iniquities (all of them)
He heals my dieses
He redeems my life from the pit ( I don't live in the pit any more)
He crowns me with steadfast love and mercy
He satisfies me with good so my youth is renewed like the eagle
He works justice and righteousness for ALL who are oppressed
He makes know his way s
He reveals his acts
He doesn't always remain angry or chide
His steadfast love (his love with no exit strategy) is towards me!
So I repeat 1 John 1:9 "Fear not little flock" WHY!? "Because it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom."
Because of Him Joshua 1:9 is more than a suggestion "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed," HOW?! " (remember) for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."
I boldly speak Romans 8 out loud to the one who knows how deep my condemnation went "There is NOW therefore NO condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus..."
How?! "For God has done what the law, weekend by the flesh, COULD NOT DO. By sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, HE condemned sin in the flesh (His flesh) in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us.." Romans 8:1-4
and feel no shame, why? Because Romans 4:7-8 is true "Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven, (insert happy dance) and whose sins are covered; blessed is the man against whom the Lord WILL NOT count his sin."
2 Corinthians 5:21 "For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that IN HIM we might become the righteousness of God."
and when I feel nothing? I remember Exodus 6 "Moreover, I have heard the groaning of the Israelites, whom the Egyptians are enslaving, and I have remembered my covenant. I am the Lord and I will bring you out, I will deliver you, I will redeem you I will take you to be my people and I will be your God, and you shall know that it am the Lord your God who has brought you out."
When I feel oppression reigns Psalm 103 repeats "He does work Justice and Righteousness for all who are oppressed"
And when I feel that he has forgotten Isaiah 49:15-17 "Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have ENGRAVED you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me.Your builders make haste;your destroyers and those who laid you waste go out from you."
When I am sure this place between a rock and a wall is useless Job speak a different perspective; "But he KNOWS the way that I take; when he has tested me, I WILL come forth as gold."
I reached the garage door with the maniac dog on the other side waiting for me to let him in.....
The garage was definitely closed when I had come in that afternoon.
"Choose not to be afraid, Mary. You don't have to choose fear."
There's an explanation for this I'm sure, and it doesn't have to include masked terrors waiting on the other side to barge into the house.
I turned the dead bolt and Shasta stopped barking, then I heard the deep male voice coming from the other side of the unlocked door.
Quicker than you would think possible I locked the deadbolt and shot up the stairs.
"Who breaks into someone garage in the middle of the afternoon! Someone who doesn't care about consequences that's who."
I looked around the room for some where to hide, the bed was up too high, there wasn't a closet and I'm definitely old enough to understand that hiding under the covers would do nothing for me.
I grabbed my phone and sent an SOS text to the nearest person.
"There's a man in the garage!"
I stood in the middle of the room exposed waiting for who ever it was to come up the stairs and find me just standing there.
Then I heard a scream, I dropped to the floor breathless.
Then I head another scream... more like a squeal. I crawled over to the window and looked down at the back yard and saw one toe headed little boy chasing an older boy while they both tried to carry arm loads of wood out the gate.
Micah and Nathan Stanley shot out of the yard with their arms full of scrap wood from the deck project that was being constructed in the back yard.
My heart immediately stopped racing and I stood up laughing to myself.
I calmly walked down the stairs and opened the door like nothing had happened to meet the littlest Stanley and let the dog inside before he had a heart attack.
I poked my head around the corner to see Jonathan directing three tiny boys with arm loads of wood to a trailer.
He waved and walked over
"I figured you'd come out when Shasta started barking."
We both laughed and in my head I thought
"Yeah... I've seen the movies that's how people die."
Images from When a Stranger Calls immidiatly began playing in my mind.... Well, okay so I just saw the previews but that was enough that I get what happens to the innocent girl in a strange house alone.
Then I could hear the little phrase play in my head on repeat.
"It's so simple, you can choose not to be afraid, Mary"
"You can choose not to be afraid."
I dove under the sheets for my missing sock,put it on and padded down the carpeted stairs.
"Maybe it's a cat, maybe it's a squirrel" I thought as I told my heart to stop racing and started to take normal breaths in and out.
What if we lived choosing to make our emotions submissive to the Word?
The first lie the deceiver told was to Eve; "Did God really say?" translation "Eve, God's holding out on you!" Did Eve hold onto the word, rock solid and generous or did she give into the feelings that God was holding out on her?
What if I practically live this out?
Yes I feel.... but Psalm 103 is true
"Bless the Lord oh MY soul and all that is in ME
He forgives my iniquities (all of them)
He heals my dieses
He redeems my life from the pit ( I don't live in the pit any more)
He crowns me with steadfast love and mercy
He satisfies me with good so my youth is renewed like the eagle
He works justice and righteousness for ALL who are oppressed
He makes know his way s
He reveals his acts
He doesn't always remain angry or chide
His steadfast love (his love with no exit strategy) is towards me!
So I repeat 1 John 1:9 "Fear not little flock" WHY!? "Because it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom."
Because of Him Joshua 1:9 is more than a suggestion "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed," HOW?! " (remember) for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."
I boldly speak Romans 8 out loud to the one who knows how deep my condemnation went "There is NOW therefore NO condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus..."
How?! "For God has done what the law, weekend by the flesh, COULD NOT DO. By sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, HE condemned sin in the flesh (His flesh) in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us.." Romans 8:1-4
and feel no shame, why? Because Romans 4:7-8 is true "Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven, (insert happy dance) and whose sins are covered; blessed is the man against whom the Lord WILL NOT count his sin."
2 Corinthians 5:21 "For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that IN HIM we might become the righteousness of God."
and when I feel nothing? I remember Exodus 6 "Moreover, I have heard the groaning of the Israelites, whom the Egyptians are enslaving, and I have remembered my covenant. I am the Lord and I will bring you out, I will deliver you, I will redeem you I will take you to be my people and I will be your God, and you shall know that it am the Lord your God who has brought you out."
When I feel oppression reigns Psalm 103 repeats "He does work Justice and Righteousness for all who are oppressed"
And when I feel that he has forgotten Isaiah 49:15-17 "Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have ENGRAVED you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me.Your builders make haste;your destroyers and those who laid you waste go out from you."
When I am sure this place between a rock and a wall is useless Job speak a different perspective; "But he KNOWS the way that I take; when he has tested me, I WILL come forth as gold."
I reached the garage door with the maniac dog on the other side waiting for me to let him in.....
The garage was definitely closed when I had come in that afternoon.
"Choose not to be afraid, Mary. You don't have to choose fear."
There's an explanation for this I'm sure, and it doesn't have to include masked terrors waiting on the other side to barge into the house.
I turned the dead bolt and Shasta stopped barking, then I heard the deep male voice coming from the other side of the unlocked door.
Quicker than you would think possible I locked the deadbolt and shot up the stairs.
"Who breaks into someone garage in the middle of the afternoon! Someone who doesn't care about consequences that's who."
I looked around the room for some where to hide, the bed was up too high, there wasn't a closet and I'm definitely old enough to understand that hiding under the covers would do nothing for me.
I grabbed my phone and sent an SOS text to the nearest person.
"There's a man in the garage!"
I stood in the middle of the room exposed waiting for who ever it was to come up the stairs and find me just standing there.
Then I heard a scream, I dropped to the floor breathless.
Then I head another scream... more like a squeal. I crawled over to the window and looked down at the back yard and saw one toe headed little boy chasing an older boy while they both tried to carry arm loads of wood out the gate.
Micah and Nathan Stanley shot out of the yard with their arms full of scrap wood from the deck project that was being constructed in the back yard.
My heart immediately stopped racing and I stood up laughing to myself.
I calmly walked down the stairs and opened the door like nothing had happened to meet the littlest Stanley and let the dog inside before he had a heart attack.
I poked my head around the corner to see Jonathan directing three tiny boys with arm loads of wood to a trailer.
He waved and walked over
"I figured you'd come out when Shasta started barking."
We both laughed and in my head I thought
"Yeah... I've seen the movies that's how people die."
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