tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87786649948271407112024-03-13T16:28:45.727-05:00The Paperless Journeyby Regina StankowskiReginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-88634912230632969392011-12-13T22:16:00.000-06:002011-12-13T22:16:47.055-06:00<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">There is something about Christmas. </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">For a few, Christmas means nostalgia and cheer as everything around them seeps blessing and fruitfulness. They gather with family to celebrate; a perfect picture on the front of a Christmas card offering thanks to God, as they gather around the Christmas bird. Sopped with the gravy of life, they dig in to enjoy this time, tweeting about how sweet time with family and friends fills not only their bellies, but their hearts as well. In their view, they celebrate "rightly," having a separate birthday cake for Jesus, no idol images such as: elves or Santa are brought into their homes. If they do allow Santa to visit, their children leave notes saying they don't <i>really</i> believe he's the reason for the season, (but thanks for the presents, anyways.) Waking up Christmas morning, they drive to the homeless shelter where the adults serve food and the kids pass around cookies decorated like, gasp! Santa, stockings, and trees, then return home to open the three presents each under the tree. Not because that's all mom and dad could afford, but because the Christ child only got three, so any more would be better than what He was given. (Never mind that just having a roof over their head and a place to lay it is more than Christ ever had, but I digress.) After the children joyfully open their gifts, they spend the day satisfied (feasting in the Lord, NOT being gluttonous) as they sit around pondering how good He is.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">To others, Christmas means finding awesome electronics under the tree and full stockings on the chimney, (even though they spent most of the year being naughty) Santa is willing to let the little "sins" slide, isn't he? They spend the day with family they really don't care to see any other time of the year, and feast on the traditional food that Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without. Living on the side of the tracks where things aren't so bad, they enjoy the fried, smoked or oven baked bird and eat their fill in dessert. They tweet about football and sit around already addicted their new electronics ignoring all the crazy in-laws. It's Christmas. Peace on earth, good will to men and all that stuff. A day to bring on the cheer, so bring on the heavily spiked Eggnog to help them celebrate (or forget!) And get 'Ole Scrooge sauced up so he'll stop talking about how depressed he feels - being such a downer. Sadness on Christmas is forbidden and therefore must be hidden, lest you bring everyone else down. Times are tough so suck it up that you only have two coats to wear this Christmas instead of four. Things could be a lot worse. </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">But for some, Christmas means frustration, loneliness and sorrow as most of the themes and traditions surrounding the holiday magnify loss, and the fact that life isn't always magical. Family doesn't look picture perfect like those on the cards in the mail. It looks more faded, scattered, blended. A love one vanishes leaving an empty chair at the table. There is no Tiny Tim to stand and say, "God bless us, everyone" because there is no feasting where famine has occurred. Santa is a "magical" tease; if only they believed hard enough, Christmas magic would swell in their hearts and they too would forget their woes and burst forth into song. But when Christmas is more Bah Humbug! than Deck the Halls, sorry but Joy to the World just isn't the sentiment of their hearts. They resonate with the Grinch as they watch everyone else enjoying what they feel has been taken (or never given in the first place) from them grumbling that all the noise about Christmas - a baby born in a manger, a fat, jolly man coming to bring what is lacking is just - noise, noise, noise. They look upon the hilltops tired of hearing the shouts, "Be of good cheer!" knowing things aren't what they could be. For what is there to cheer about when there's so much sadness in the world? Children die, families split, the ring never comes, the baby never develops, children are chained to beds, slavery still exists, drought destroys crops, hurricanes rip houses apart... </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">As for me, when I think about the meaning of Christmas, I am more mutt than pure breed. A combination of the three stereotypes above, I believe in and worship Emmanuel, God with us, the baby born to Mary and Joseph. I try to focus more on his coming than on all the tradition and festivity surrounding Christmas, and reflect on his goodness as I watch my children smile and enjoy the lights on the tree. I enjoy the Christmas movies shown during ABC's 25 days of Christmas, leave love notes and small messes of Skittles made by Jared the Jingle Bell Elf. We gather with family and feast on turkey, casseroles and desserts while watching football. My family picture is blended <i>and</i> faded with an empty seat where my mother would sit if she were here. I am filled with sorrow as I miss her, and think about how much she'd love watching my children enjoy the season. I've felt more Bah Humbug! this year that it's all a bunch of noise, and wept knowing there is still suffering and death on Christmas. </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">I feel it all, and it's all Christmas. </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">God was born. Why? Because children die, families split, the ring never comes, the baby never develops, children are sold and chained to beds, drought destroys crops and hurricanes rip houses apart. Deep in children's hearts is a knowledge and belief that someone who understands exactly what they desire lives above them in a place beyond what their imaginations can fathom. God's family is messed up, blended, scattered among the nations. Knowing we need to see He empathizes and understands what we face on this earth, he left the place of always good and bright to groan and weep at death, grieve the hardness of our hearts, and suffer as a human wrapped in skin that hungers, thirsts and feels tired. He understands the Grinch in us that looks back knowing how it could have been and where it all went wrong. There are holes in our hearts left by loss, idols that didn't deliver the sack of joy they promised, and the digested feast leaving us hungry again. Only when we believe, can we experience real peace and joy. </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Isaiah 53:3-5 "He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed." </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Sorrow to peace. It's Christmas. </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-36222126210489218702011-10-11T23:06:00.005-05:002011-10-14T11:46:56.258-05:00My poem "The Rescue" with Explanation<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I wrote this poem "The Rescue" back in 2004. I was cleaning out the preschool rooms at church and this sweet romantic picture of a woman being rescued kept swirling in my head. It wouldn't subside so I sat down in one of the small chairs, and not having any paper began jotting down what came to me on a paper towel. It is not based on any certain person, place or thing. It is merely a picture of God's redemptive grace and salvation. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Having been told it's very deep and some may not get it's meaning, I've written out the synopsis for you and a note to explain why I used the word lover to describe the savior. My hope is the poem might cause you to consider the God who loves us even while we are filthy and trapped and rescues us out of that darkness into His magnificent presence. </span><br />
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</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>(Synopsis)</b></span></div><div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> A woman in captivity dreams about being in a place where she feels secure. She is trapped with Enemy (the Devil) who endlessly entices her with treasures and suitors to tickle her fancy (anything that will make her feel special, pretty and loved). He offers the drug of fleshly pleasure and she drinks it. </span></div><div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The King </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">(God in all His majesty) </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">comes to her rescue exposing what's been in the dark. The </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Enemy does not want her to see just how horrible and torturous the lair has actually been so he entices her more</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. But because of the light from above, the woman can see the Enemy has actually stripped her of everything (naked). She is as weak as a newborn (helpless) filled with all the poison (deadly sin) she's been drinking. She instantly feels fear, shame, guilt and sorrow and she fears the King will abandon her when He sees just how filthy she is. But He doesn't leave choosing instead to lift her out of the pit and give her living water (a metaphor for salvation through Christ) that cleanses her. </span></div><div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> <b> Please Note</b>: The use of the word lover to describe what the King becomes to her isn't intended to mean anything sexual in nature. It is meant to imply an intimate relationship where she is completely surrendered. Her savior becomes the one who loves her most. The one in whom she goes to find her safety and security. The fear is gone. She can enter His chamber (his house) and recline in sweet embrace (a picture of closeness) because of His grace. </span></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Now please enjoy... The Rescue. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">The Rescue</span> </b> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Protected in His arms,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nestled safely against His chest,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Feeling His love so tenderly,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Experiencing a King's majesty.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As he binds His mighty sword,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Ready to fight for my soul,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He lifts my eyes up towards His face,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And does not see my ugliness.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He fights to preserve my purity,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'm justified before my mockers,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In Him, I am beauty undaunted,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Restored, renewed and wanted.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Fighting for my honor,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He gives to me His word.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To show me how He treats His love,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As He embraces me from above.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A lover like no other is He,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He calls me his own, beloved.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He, my holy, righteous King.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Fulfilled in Him, I have no need.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This, my dream, filled my mind,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">While trapped in Enemy's lair.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I sipped on poisonous drink,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Unbeknownst with every sip.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A dream until He called to me,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So powerful, but sweet His voice</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Wooing me out the darkened pit</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Offering a love with no compare.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">His might, His power, His splendor</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">O' how it enticed my heart!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But for my sole adoration, I would see,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My Enemy not release so easily.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He enticed me increasingly,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Teasing me with endless pleasures,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Promising unending treasures.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Filling my pride, promising beauty,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Unmatched suitors to tickle my fancy.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But Enemy's offer how it paled,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Once the King's was revealed.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">An offer so simple, just one sip,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Of living water poured on my lips.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A satisfying sip it was, indeed!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I beckoned him for more.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Feeling the life it quickly brought, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To my poisoned soul in deep distraught.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The more the King poured out His drink,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">More poison was exposed. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">How n</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">othing but destruction and death</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Had been Enemy's plan with every sip!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I dropped to the floor, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Frightened, afraid.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Wickedness around me, guilt and shame.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Stripped of everything, I was naked, exposed</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Aware of the poison sickening me.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Vulnerable was I, unable to speak</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A newborn child, helpless and weak.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My wandering heart, selfishness, pride,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Envy, impatience and accusation.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My ugliness, intolerance and evil thoughts,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Unveiled before Him, my innermost parts.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He knew me more than I knew myself</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And still carried me into light. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Wiping the tears streaming down my face,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lovingly holding me in sweet embrace.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As His comforting words soothed my heart,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He invaded my empty soul.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Starting a romance like none other,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Rescued, my savior became my lover.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I approach His throne with confidence,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Unlike the time before, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Knowing He extends His arm,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As I approach the opened door.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He leads me to His chamber,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Where I recline in deep embrace,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And He tells me I am lovely,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Because of His sweet grace. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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</span>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-68609214412320195442011-06-17T21:35:00.004-05:002011-06-17T21:50:14.603-05:00Small Excerpt from my Book<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Perpetua;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">This is a poem written by the lead character in my book. It's a prayer from a dying heart. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: Perpetua; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A distillery atop a hill,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Holds my lonely heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A love once felt, a warehouse boy,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Under a sea of stars.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Promise given, away I ran<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">But nothing did I gain.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Only that which is void of love<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Filling me with pain.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Clearest blue, topaz eyes<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Sparkling right at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">In his eyes, I see your face,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Where I want to be.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A lion roars and holds me down,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Those fierce and golden eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Pierce my heart,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Blood drips out<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">From each and every lie.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Trapped inside a lion’s den<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Fresh meat to be devoured<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I beg for freedom, my own release<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Each and every hour.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A whispered prayer sent to the sky<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Invisible to see.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">But felt within this dying heart<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">More real it cannot be.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Love is real. It does exist<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I felt it in your care<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Loving me with no return,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I see it now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div></span></span></span></div>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-8000049804014542282011-03-12T00:44:00.003-06:002011-03-12T01:04:28.237-06:00An Epic Endorsement<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I've always been intrigued by the concept of endorsement deals. Companies give multi-millions of dollars for men and women of the hour to associate themselves with a product. The desire is to allude people into believing that said product is better or more prestigious than another of its kind. The company gambles this big money in hopes that during the contracted time frame, untapped or bored consumers looking for something else to whet their whistles will walk through the sliding glass door and show them the money. Not necessarily because the product is so great but because trendy celebrity or prestigious person chooses to promote it ultimately promoting themselves as well. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Not many would question the athlete or famous person for doing this. Who wouldn't be willing to pledge allegiance to something when they are being paid millions of dollars and given worldwide recognition to do so? Most people if approached with the promise of money, prestige, fame or worldly comfort would be hard pressed not to take it - or for those who are mightier than most - hard pressed not to at least consider taking it. Justifying it could be easy. If the deal only lasted for a few years, then after all ties are loosed, the bank account is fattened and the diet soda they really like is once again sitting on their table, most would feel absurd not to sign on the dotted line. Loyalty to a company who took care of them when they were but a dreg on the bottom of the glass would be broken for the promise of riches, comfort and close association with the greater persons, places and things of the world. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As I read the stories of people like prisoner Said Musa, Pakistan's former Minister for Minorities Shahbaz Bhatti, and the many men and women tortured and killed because of a refusal to renounce belief in Christ, my mind swirls around this idea of endorsement. The stories of the oppressed and tortured are no longer being kept locked away in their dungeon-like cells. They are crossing barriers and breaking free spreading among the masses as a witness for those of us who have yet to stand in Peter's shoes. Standing at the point of coercion, forced to decide between renouncing or keeping silent about faith in Christ or facing mockery, isolation, hatred and God have mercy, horrible death. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In Hebrews, we are told, "Some were tortured, refusing to accept release, so that they might rise again to a better life. Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 6px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">they were killed with the sword.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 6px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated—of whom the world was not worthy—wandering about in deserts and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth. And all these,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 6px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better for us,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 6px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">that apart from us they should not be made perfect. Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he 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 sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart."</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">These are said to be a great cloud of witnesses. Witnesses to what? To showing how awesome is the person of Christ that one would be willing to forgo an offer of money, prestige, fame or worldly comfort. Without receiving the promise, when hard pressed on all sides they refuse to break loyalty to the One who took care of them when they were but a dreg on the bottom of a glass. The One who endured brutality, being mocked, spat on, beaten and nailed to a wooden cross to die a torturous death. The pioneer who ventured through the wilderness before them so they might consider him and not grow weary and lose heart. Men and women who cannot say they benefitted with prosperity from allegiance to the Lord when they were being tortured and oppressed because of Christ, or fighting for those who are. They echo the apostle Paul's claim, "But</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 6px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 6px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 6px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ" (Philippians 3:7-8)</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Whatever gain they had is counted as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ. They're not suffering for him because of the selfish joy of knowing a thousand virgins wait for them after death or that they'll walk into a gold mansion pimped out just for them. On the contrary, they suffer and forsake it all because being with Christ is better than any worldly pleasure. It's an epic endorsement of a God who is infinitely greater and more valuable than any rubbish of this world. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></div>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-53662244877411789022010-12-03T19:07:00.001-06:002010-12-03T19:09:49.089-06:00Christmas Gold<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">‘Twas the quarter before Christmas</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And in the conference room,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sat a group of worried businessman<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Saying Christmas is coming soon.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">With blank looks on their faces</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They scratched their heads and said,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“We need to do something quickly,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Or our profit margin’s dead.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our factories still sit stagnant</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">No one wants to buy<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">All the crap we’re trying to sell them<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Think everyone. Let’s try, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To solve this looming danger<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our mortgages are due<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Snap, snap! Think! think!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Before the holidays are through!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They sat and sat, for hours<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Brainstorming what to do <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When suddenly, one lifted brow<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And raised index finger too,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Tapped a chin so lightly, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Thoughts whirling in his brain, and</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Like an avalanche off a mountain</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The brilliant idea - it came!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I got it! I got it!” the man exclaimed</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As he stood up on his chair,<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Listen! Listen! Listen to this!<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It’ll fill your hearts with cheer.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It’s really quite so simple,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A brilliant plan. You'll see! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here's the best proposal </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I’ll explain it easily.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We’ll create a graven image </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A demigod he'll be, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Requiring guilty worship<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Of everyone.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Let’s see…</span></div></div></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Let's make him sort of manlike,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Full of laughter, whim and glee,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But also with the power of god</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">With magic eyes that see. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Every action good or bad </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Of every boy and girl,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He'll have the power to control</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The whole entire world!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A King, or boss, a C-O-O <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Of a whimsical factory, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That sits so shiny, gleaming bright<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In a perpetual land of snow <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">With workers… No! Magical elves<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">How about the North Pole!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He’s berth, round, very plump,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He’ll be loved and adored!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>He’s</i> the reason that we shop<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And fill our many stores.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Goodies, gifts, and trinkets, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">All of it they’ll need,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It’s brilliant! Genius! Foolproof!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A grand idea, you see!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We create a magical story, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Their stockings he will fill.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">If they just believe he’s coming,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Fill them up he will!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He’ll be so fat and jolly</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Like us - a bearded old elf.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And all of us, well… we’ll laugh<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We’ll laugh in spite of self. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He’ll be our children's hero,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Saint will start his name<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It’s moral, quaint, and sacred<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It’s really just the same. For,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The wise men brought gifts to Jesus,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To the Christ child, can't you see!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Why then shouldn’t Santa Claus<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Bring to you and me!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">If Santa Claus forgets their child,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Oh, what guilt they'll feel!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They'll crack from all the pressure,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They will buy, they will!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It’s a brilliant, brilliant, brilliant plan,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We made a god! Behold! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our go-to guy, our saving grace</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our Christmas gift of gold! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Brilliant! Brilliant!" cried the room,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Of savvy businessmen,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"It’s Christmas gold!" (<i>applause</i>) "Well done!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Thank you all! Amen!"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Well done, well done, well done my boy!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They said as they left the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Let’s get started, there's not much time<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For all the work to do <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Go tell, go tell, go tell them all<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Santa’s coming soon!” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Inside their plush and fancy cars,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They drove out of sight, cheering<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“A merry Christmas to all! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It’s going to be all right!"<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We’ll make our profit easily</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">By preying on each child,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To praise our commercial demigod,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Who’ll make their faces smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our profit margins will fly up,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our stock will hit the roof,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Oh, thank you, thank you,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Santa Claus, we’ll owe it all to you!"<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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</div>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-13234822083929555342010-09-30T14:20:00.003-05:002010-10-12T23:53:45.968-05:00What About Him?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> It's encouraging to me when I see that the men and women who walked and talked with Jesus asked Him real questions. To clarify real, I mean they are questions resulting from emotions or thoughts that still occur in the majority of mankind. They denote feelings of pride, doubt, jealousy, bitterness, hatred, sadness, grievance, open the list and it’s there. One of those questions has recently popped off the page in 3-D. It is asked in the Gospel of John by Peter to Jesus. </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Jesus appears to seven of the disciples after His resurrection and sits around a fire with them eating a breakfast of charcoaled fish and bread. Simon Peter, the impulsive and passionate disciple who proudly stated that he would never fall away, even if others did, sits among them and eats with the Lord he publicly denied knowing three separate times. They finish breakfast and in a grace-filled moment Jesus publicly restores a grieved Simon Peter with forgiveness and a commission to feed, tend and care for His flock. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> After this, Jesus tells him to what length he was to glorify God “…</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.”(vs.18) </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The good news, Peter would remain a faithful servant. The bad news, it was going to carry him where he did not want to go. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Moments later when Peter sees the disciple John following them, he curiously asks, "Lord, what about this man?" Jesus rebukes him. “</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow Me</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">!”(vs22)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Based on the fact that Jesus responded to the question with a rebuke, I can't help but speculate about the reason Peter is asking it. There are many instances where Jesus answers questions to directly penetrate and reveal what He knows is going on in the person's heart. Peter's question, "Lord, what about this man?"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> is one of those real questions emanating from a man concerned with what is purposed for another. It's the question that coiled up and bounced in front of me because it's the same one I've been asking the Lord lately. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Why is that person saved and this one isn’t? Why did you allow that one to be healed, but not this one? Why will you allow that one to secure a job, but not this one? Why does </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">he</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> have to struggle but that one doesn’t? I know you have this for me, but are you going to give them special favor? Am I going to suffer while they get to live a life full of love and special revelation? And so on. To put it in a nutshell, "What about </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">him</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">?" </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> The prideful focus of my heart is exposed, and the Lord in a grace-filled moment rebukes me with a question he knows will lead to my greatest joy. “What is that to you?” He let’s me know that in that moment I’ve become too preoccupied with what is not meant for me. It’s not mine to figure out, and even if He was to give me the answer, He knows it wouldn’t suffice because it’s only a small piece of the larger picture.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> His rebuke while sounding harsh isn't meant to frustrate or cause me pain. It's for my good. It's His loving way of keeping me focused on what He has for me to do while walking with Him. If I'm continually going around pointing fingers and saying, "What about that guy?" he knows I'm likely to stray like a dog that follows the instincts of his nose and ends up lost and far away from its loving master. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-53014612171364951522010-06-03T12:58:00.005-05:002010-06-03T13:13:23.148-05:00Parables<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Parables. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> This word has been resonating with me lately. One of the many reasons I find Jesus so fascinating is that he was able to take the practical, day to day situations of those sitting around him and use them to teach about his Father in heaven. When I ponder this, I realize how often I am fooled into believing that God is only understood by those who think on a higher spiritual plane. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I have friends who are well-read and versed in scholarly knowledge. They can quote deep thinkers and puritan literature. It's their passionate desire to echo the sentiments of those considered reputable in the area of Christianity and to have every word dripping off their lips be filled with depth, meaning and the richness of life. They use Twitter and Facebook to send out profound spiritual quotes and point everything they say back to the Lord and his greatness. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I have other friends who couldn't list one biblical scholar or "great" thinker if you asked them to, much less quote them. They speak soundly and deeply at times, but it's not their passion to find the spiritual purpose behind a cricket. It's a cricket, God made it, and that's enough for them. They aren't dumb or unable to appreciate deep truth, in fact, they have just as much of a spiritual depth as the former group. It's just manifested in a different, less intense way and most often in a language that can be understood by the vast majority of people.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> When I read about Jesus teaching the multitudes that surrounded him, I see that he meets them where they are. He uses agricultural, relational, monetary and cultural examples to teach, explain and reveal who the Father is, what heaven is like, and how we all miss the mark because of our sinful natures. Many of them were women and men who weren't highly educated or literate, so he taught them with stories and visual aids. It wasn't rocket science or vague philosophy. It was deep truth wrapped in the practical, tangible details of life. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I thoroughly enjoy deep conversations about the Lord, but on most days my conversations revolve around those day to day details. Watching Jesus (through reading His word) teach the parables has been a great encouragement to me. It's been a beautiful reminder that He, through his Spirit, is able to use what I might see as ordinary to teach and reveal more of Himself, just as He did while sitting with the multitudes of people. If I prayerfully ask Him to reveal the depth wrapped in the details, I know He will. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-53364244482637313212010-04-17T15:18:01.310-05:002010-07-28T23:33:46.399-05:00A Gift of Flesh and Bones<span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The moment the breath of life was exhaled through the nostrils of man, each bone, muscle fiber, nerve, and limb had been sculpted in the exact location to fulfill its intended and specific purpose. The man wasn't the first creation. The artist had already designed a solar system, the sun, the expanse of the sky and the round solid earth. He had created the waters of the seas and caused the rivers and streams to come up from beneath. He had planted and grown a garden full of all kinds of trees that were pleasing to the eye. The man had been shown many creatures. He gave them names. There were birds, fish, livestock, each having an opposite according to its own kind. The Lord God had created an entire eco-system where symbiotic relationship, everything working together in glorious symphony, played all around the man. Life meant purpose, union, relationship, connectedness, not only with the creation but most importantly with the creator himself. It was glorious. Glorious, like the One by whom and for whom it was created. The Lord God saw that man was alone, the only one of his kind, and it was not good. Being the imagineer and detail-oriented wonder He is, the Lord God knew exactly what was needed to fulfill and complement the man. This creation would have an intended and specific purpose. The artist allowed the man the honor and privilege of being part of this plan, and the outcome was going to be beyond anything he would ever imagine. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The man was caused to fall into a deep sleep, a rib was taken from him and used to form the new creation. Every bone, muscle, nerve, and curve was sculpted in the exact place for its intended and specific purpose. The Lord God was forming what would be a suitable "ezer" for the man. One equal to him in humanity, one of his own kind, with the breath of life breathed into her. The Lord God brought her to the man. As Adam studied this gift, he discovered that she was like him in many ways, but different in others. Not made with feathers, fur or scales like the fish, they were both formed from the same material, flesh and bone sharing the same abilities to reason, speak, smile, laugh and respond to each other. She was made in man's likeness as an opposite of his own kind. No suitable helper had been found -- not until that moment. Adam called her woman, because she was taken out of him and formed, made with flesh both in kind <i>and</i> creation. God had used Adam's flesh to cover her wound, making her flesh of his flesh. She was his to be with in both body and soul, to eat of good fruit, to be fruitful and multiply. The Lord God had offered what the man knew he couldn't have made or created himself. </span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">"</span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">This is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; </span></span></span></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 16px; white-space: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; line-height: normal; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">and she shall be called 'woman' for she was taken out of man."</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Creation, a beautiful representation of what already existed in the heavenly realms. God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit existing together in unity and connectedness. Creation, the shadow of their image both in form and function. They were there at the beginning. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"> </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">"In the</span></i> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">beginning, was the Word, and the Word was with God, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning."(John 1:1)</span> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Let <i>us</i> make man in our image in <i>our</i> likeness..." <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> She shall be called "mine" for she was taken out of man. Poetically wondrous. She shall be called "mine" for she was taken out of man. Prophetically amazing. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Man walked with the I AM who walked in the garden in the cool of the day. The father, Creator of our being. Our teacher, sustainer, helper, caretaker, everything that we were designed to reflect through the gifts he gave us. Awe was to be felt at the sound of His name, for he had created everything from nothing. It was very good. Then one sad day, all was lost. The wholeness was fractured causing a wound. We had been told to avoid what was going to hurt us, but despite a loving father's warning, rebellion reigned in our hearts. Before the ten commandments were given to Moses on the mount, one had already been broken. We didn't honor our father. When we heard Him walking in the garden in the cool of the day, we hid (as guilty children often do.) We knew we hadn't listened and that something terribly wrong had happened because of it. It was not good. </span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Hundreds of years later while the earth still groaned knowing that something terribly wrong had happened, God began to create. In the womb of a chosen servant He created a baby. Every bone, muscle, nerve and limb was designed with intention and a specific purpose. This baby grew to be a man in stature and wisdom. When God brought Him to us, we studied him and saw that He was like us in form with the same ability to reason, laugh, feel emotion, and breathe, but He was also different in many ways. He walked with us, reconnecting us with the Father we had been separated from, lovingly warning us which things to avoid for both our protection and ultimate joy. He liked to go into the garden and pray in the cool of the day. He gave us purpose and breathed the breath of life back into Lazarus and those he resurrected from the dead. He told us He is the one prophesied to come and in Him we would bear much fruit, being fruitful in spirit, and multiply, becoming fishers of men. We were meant to be the shadow of the reality, of the image that exists in the heavenly realms. "I am in you, and you are in me," he says. "I am the vine, and you are the branches. With me, you will bear much fruit. Apart from me you can do nothing." You will be my bride, and shall be called "mine" for you are a part of me. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> In this created man, the Father brought a suitable "ezer" to us. A perfect gift. Jesus. This man was put into a deep sleep, his body was broken and his flesh was used to cover the wound made when man and woman had disobeyed and brokenness occurred. God breathed the breath of life back into His nostrils on the third day, and Jesus left the tomb to go reconcile Himself with those he called his own. "Look at my hands and feet. It is I myself! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have," he says to the disciples. He was flesh of their flesh, bone of their bone. Not a ghost, or an apparition. He was a man, a gift made in their own likeness. Humanity and God wrapped up in one. After forty days, He ascended into the heavens to be with the Father. He says that he is preparing something for His children. A place where those He calls mine will be with Him once again. Being the imagineer and detail-oriented Creator he is, that place is going to be beyond anything our minds could ever imagine. And it will be very good. Glorious and awe inspiring, just as it was in the beginning. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></div>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-82299183534428480502010-04-13T14:54:00.008-05:002010-07-28T23:48:11.307-05:00My Haunting<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On my Facebook post, I recently used the phrase, <i>I'm being haun</i><i>ted</i>. It might sound hyperbole, but in my mind, heart and spirit, I <i>am</i> being haunted. My friend asked me what is going on and commented, <i>that sounds ominous</i>. Well, she's right. It is ominous. Ominous things are menacing, threatening, scary, foreboding, and very unwelcome. For some, the word haunted might conjure creepy shows dealing with ghosts, demons and supernatural evils. Well, I'm not experiencing shaking tables and ghoulish spirits but there is something compulsively and excessively bothering my spirit to the point that it has at moments overcome me with deep despair, and a feeling of oppression in my soul. I know what it is. I'm familiar with it because I experienced something similar to it about ten years ago. Since, I've been used to it coming and going like an occasional high wave washing up on the sand. It hasn't stayed for long during those times. But for the past week and a half, it has been lingering. I'm at the point of annoyance. It has occurred to me that perhaps the best way to allow it to float away is to stop enabling it to linger in my mind. Maybe the pen will be my sword. I'll warn you that it's not the most uplifting story, nor will it be easy for some to read. The following images are the ones that stand out most. Together they form a story. I know not a complete one because they are only based on my view of the situation. Everyone in my family would have something different to say, but these are snapshots of moments that I experienced. The span of time was seven months, and I don't know everything. Much was never talked about. But it was real. My mother's unexpected illness and painfully lonely death is my haunting. </span></span><br />
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<ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Walking in the door to see her head on the bar not knowing why she was crying. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Hugging her trying to think of words to console her as she cried on my shoulder telling me she wanted to always be here for me. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her looking at me while talking with a friend on the phone saying she knew I was the reason she should fight it. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Holding the syringe while she became annoyed at my timidity to give the shot in her hip</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The horrifying image of her strong body slowly turning to a bloated frail skeleton. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">My grandmother's understandable forcefulness trying to get mother to eat peaches even though she felt sick and weak from her chemo. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Seeing her try to wear a wig but give up wearing a handkerchief. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">With tape bounded around her wrists from being poked so much with needles for iv's, she sat at the table putting puzzles together to give her something to do. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Watching her cry and agonize how hard it was for her to handle it all while my grandmother made her recite the Serenity Prayer. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not knowing what to say to my grandmother when she sat at the kitchen table crying knowing that her daughter was not getting better. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Getting yelled at for attending a grief support group with my boyfriend at the time's mother who loved me through all of it. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Crying on my aunt's bar because I was tired of being told how I didn't love my mother because I wasn't spending every moment by her bedside.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Not knowing the answer to the question of why my mother was sick because she was so young. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sitting next to my mother hoping she might have something special to pass down to me only to listen to her apathetic voice saying it doesn't matter who ended up with things, because none of it mattered. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Watching a woman begin fighting as hard as she could, only to end up laying in a hospital bed after receiving radiation. Listening to doctors convince her to take medicine even though they knew it probably wouldn't heal her. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Never hearing her tell me that she was going to die. That the medicine wasn't working, but overhearing it in conversations my grandmother was having. Watching my mother despair knowing her life was finished. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Watching Hospice come to the house during the final weeks. Telling us what to expect and how much longer. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Entering her room one day, and in a moment that seemed both chaotic (as I watched my grandparents cleaning up the waste the body releases before it ends its existence), and surreal, I sat at her bedside and watched as her chest began to move in a sharp, shallow way. I watched her breathe her last breaths, while my grandparents were oblivious that their daughter was leaving. Seeing the sadness, and hearing my grandfather ask me if she was dead, I got up and left the room to call my aunt. Mom had died. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don't remember crying. There were people, plants, caskets to go pick out, rides to the church, the cemetery. The awkwardness of wondering what my aunt and grandmother would feel that my dad had brought my step-mom to the funeral. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wondering where I would live now. My dad lived in a different city, but all my friends and family lived there. I was fifteen. I was self-absorbed. Looking back, I was completely detached and in a foreign land of confusion with no guide. It was survival. It was unexpected tragedy in a disconnected and messed up family. </span></li>
</ul><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Why does this haunt me today? That's easy to pinpoint. I'm healing from a surgical procedure. It was nothing serious, in fact, when I'm all healed, my quality of life will be even better than before. And it was great before, so realistically, I should just be enjoying my time of recovery. Instead, as I lay here with my feet propped up, and my daughter and son have to help me with even the smallest of tasks, I hate it. Not because I don't think it's good for them to learn how to serve others, but because I'm still being compulsively and excessively bothered in my spirit by this haunting. I transfer my fear that my children will have an image like I did singed into their psyches unreasonably, and I despise it. As I sit here I face the fact that even twenty-one years later, the past still has a hold on me. Yes, there was tragedy in my life, but I desire to be as Joseph and see that what was meant for evil or despair, God meant for good. My life is not anyone else's, it's mine how He purposes it. I am His and what that promises me is liberty under His grace, abundant love from a powerful, loving Father and a promise that He will never leave or forsake me. That is a power and promise I never saw nor heard through my family in our time of tragedy. It's a horrible and terrifying way to face suffering. But may the Lord allow it to be different with me. May I be a faithful servant through suffering, hardship, and blessing. I swing my sword and may the haunting go away. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-30604437436872868352010-04-01T13:36:00.012-05:002010-04-01T14:02:10.543-05:00Guilty As Charged<div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> It was early morning and Jesus was sitting down teaching all the people who were coming to Him. A large </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">scuffling of feet mixed with a woman's wailing distracted them. With strong hands cuffed around her arms, a group of prominent religious leaders dragged the woman towards the center of the court and set her firmly in front of Jesus.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Teacher, this woman is an adulterer! We bear witness that she was in the very act of it when we caught her," the men spoke, disgusted at her wretchedness.</span></i></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Now, in the Law Moses commanded to us, it says that such a woman is a sinner and should be stoned. What then do You say we should do?" they asked, their hearts filled with malicious intent to trap and accuse Jesus.</span></i></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Jesus was quiet and stooped down to write on the ground. Impatient with His pause, the prominent religious leaders persisted that Jesus give them His answer. As Jesus stood up before them, the group of men hushed ready to hear His verdict.</span></i></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"He who is without sin among you, let him be the first to throw a stone at her," he said to them.</span></i></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After speaking this, He stooped down and continued writing on the ground. The group of leaders slowly began to dwindle, leaving one by one, the older men first. Only Jesus was left, and the woman in the center. He stood up and said to her, "Woman, are there any left that accuse you? Is anyone left that condemns you?" "No one, Lord," she answered. Then Jesus said, "Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin any more." (John 8:1-11 paraphrased)</span></i></div></div><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">I sat amazed at the scene that had just played in front of me. My heart began to stir with affection towards the man called Jesus as I realized the depth of His words. Of all those men, who among them had legitimate claim as one without sin? Who had the right to throw the first stone at the guilty, adulterous woman? ... Jesus did. But what did He throw at her?... Grace, mercy and freedom from condemnation.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">A painful death of stones hitting her body with brute force would have been the lawful punishment due her had Jesus not spoken for her. But for His unmerited favor at that moment, the story would have had an alternate ending. I wanted to follow the woman. What happened after she left the temple? Did she run home relieved and a bit confused? As she sat at her table the next morning was she filled with awe? Did a sudden giddiness that her many sins had been forgiven by the man others were calling "the Lord" fill her soul? Did her giddiness turn into an unexplainable joy?</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">There were others that witnessed the scene. The people had gathered to listen to Him teach, and what a lesson He had taught them in that moment! Perhaps they were amazed. Quite possibly there were many sinners in the crowd around Him. Sinners who had come to the temple to present offerings to cover their guilt. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Did they go tell others, catching the ears of others like her? Others like the harlot who had the audacity to enter into a prominent religious leader's house upon hearing that Jesus was there. Bringing an Alabaster jar of expensive perfume, she did a taboo thing and entered the scene without a head covering. As she stood behind Him weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears, wiping them with her uncovered strands, kissing them and pouring precious perfume over them. Because she had been forgiven much, being near Jesus and worshipping Him was worth more than the approval of the arrogant man reclining at the table silently scoffing her as a sinner. Accusation against her mattered not because she was desperate for what she heard Jesus could bestow on her, an unclean sinner.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Jesus made certain she didn't leave His presence disappointed. In a brilliant moment, He praised her before her accusers, pouring over her the forgiveness for her many sins and a peace that would pass all understanding. "Go in peace," he said. She was now saved by His unmerited favor.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Just as Jesus did for the woman caught in adultery, He did for the harlot who washed His feet. There was no need for a guilt offering that day. Jesus covered them. He bestowed forgiveness over them. Sinners having nothing to offer but guilt, tears and vulnerability, He spoke on their behalf. He so compassionately and lovingly covered them with what only He could give. He was enough. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"> <i> "Then He said to Thomas, 'Put your finger here and observe My hands. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Don't be an unbeliever, but a believer.'" (John 20:27)</i></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Lord, stir in us a new longing this Easter. A longing for what only You can give, making us believers, restoring any doubt that we might have in You. May Your death and propitiation for our sins be enough. There is no longer any need for guilt offerings because You speak on our behalf. As we kneel at Your feet and pour out our souls, bestow on us words that are life giving. Words of peace for our broken souls. Restore in us a faith and belief that it's You. You are enough for us. Amen </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</h5></span>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-24729902637125583042010-03-09T14:45:00.001-06:002010-07-28T23:24:44.408-05:00If God's the Team Captain,Then I'm Not Playing Recently, during an otherwise casual conversation, a good friend of mine asked me a very difficult question. I say it's difficult because I personally know people who attend certain churches depending on how this question is answered, and people who choose <i>n</i><i>ot</i> to attend church because of how it's answered. Her question was based on what she had been reading and learning in scripture, when God called a people to Himself through Abraham, a people He entered into covenant with and blessed. A <i>chosen</i> nation. Her question? Why would a loving God not choose everyone? Why did He choose through Abraham? <br />
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Great question. Hard question. My first tendency was to shrug my shoulders and say, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> I have no idea<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">, and move the conversation elsewhere. But I was gently reminded of the verse that says I need to be ready to share the hope in which I profess. I do profess a belief in the LORD, the same Lord she was asking about, and she knew it. No running could escape the fact that I had just been hit hard and a response was desired. I immediately prayed that the Lord would shut my stupid mouth so that I wouldn't rattle off some nonsensical thing. I love my friend, so I wanted to give her the most solid answer I could give within my limited understanding of an all-powerful, all-knowing God. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Suddenly, it hit me clearly that her question wasn't one pertaining to theology, in fact, she had no idea of anything in that realm. Her question had everything to do with the nature of God. She wanted to know about Him. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Isn't God supposed to be loving? In her mind, a God that would choose this man Abraham and not others isn't characteristic of a loving God. A loving God would choose everyone.</span></span><br />
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The best visual I came up with at that moment was the one of adoption. I have a brother because of the process of adoption. I know many couples who have flown to international destinations, in all cases more than once, to adopt children. We see celebrities with tons of money, and abundant resources adopt children from all over the world. I asked her what her feeling is of people like this? What is her overall perception of people who go into orphanages and choose a child, or more than one child to adopt? Does she consider them unloving because they don't choose all of the children? Sure, a valid argument could be that those people aren't God and are bound by laws, money, and other circumstances beyond their control. Had they more money or ability, they could adopt more. But the main question pointed back to the person doing the adopting. Did she consider them unloving because they chose a specific child to adopt and enter into familial relationship with? <br />
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The Bible teaches the truth that God is love, and love encompasses everything He chooses to do. From Genesis to Revelation, a beautiful picture is painted. The all-powerful, all-knowing God who walked with Adam and Eve in the garden, appeared to Moses and revealed His name, YHWH, meaning I AM. The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob went before His people and behind His people protecting and <i>continually </i>forgiving them for their transgressions and disobedience to Him as Lord and father. He chose to send warnings through prophets, established the greatest kings that ever ruled over Israel, and out of His love came to walk among us, <i>as one of us</i>, in Jesus. He demonstrated His love to us by choosing to lay down his life, allowing himself to be beaten, slapped, mocked, denied, and nailed on a wooden cross, a most humiliating and criminal way to die. <br />
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Do we sometimes revert back to junior high or high school, when we're standing in line waiting to be picked by the team captain, you know, the popular, athletic kid, and feel our face become hot because we're the last to be picked? Do we say, if God is going to be team captain, then I'm not playing because He only picks the pretty, holy people, one of whom I never will be, or would want to be for that matter?<br />
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Did God choose the man named Abraham? Yes. Why did he choose <i>him</i>? I honestly don't know. I don't even want to think that I can fathom what God is doing. I do know that God's track record proves itself showing Him to choose from all ends of the spectrum, from the adulterers to the virgin, from the tax-collector to the poor in spirit, from those wrestling with demons, to the ones who are diseased. He chooses from those who are well-educated and religiously trained, to those everyone else rejects. He chooses women, kings, cupbearers, slaves, the list goes on. If we seriously consider what He has done, and continues to do, it's clear that He deserves all the credit in the world, because despite what biases we might carry, He is and always will be loving.Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-78430339622755914812010-02-25T11:16:00.006-06:002010-02-25T12:15:29.998-06:00He Takes Notices So the latest news is... Haiti needs help and the world is falling apart. The orphan rate is rising as I write this and our bank accounts can barely cover our bills much less take care of the world's needs. We are made to feel guilty and pitied because we don't know what it means to live simply. We own houses that have carpeting instead of mud floors, roofs made with tiled shingles instead of straw, and a pantry containing food. We've cut back, cut out, and trimmed, given LOTS of money and still we are chastised for owning too much. We're American; therefore, we are gluttonous, arrogant, and selfish. It's our responsibility to take care of people who are oppressed, down and out, uneducated, and stricken with poverty. We are faced with one of two extremes. We have abundance and others don't, so shame on us. Or, we need to embrace the American dream. It's our God given right to pursue those things. We're damned if we do, damned if we don't.<br />
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I watched the documentary, "Reporter" on television two days ago. The journalist traveled into the Congo documenting the effects the many years of civil war has had on their country. Passing through the small villages that had been pillaged, he faced starving people, bitter people, and confused people. With diamond mines and abundant resources at its fingertips, the country has the potential to be one of the richest in the world. But instead, it's one of the most poverty stricken. The reporter wrote that in the end, it was difficult to maintain hope the poverty would cease. Interestingly though, he didn't leave feeling guilty. He left with a desire for the people of the Congo to one day share in the blessing that is having food, strong shelter and peace. <br />
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Feeling overwhelmed and saddened by the heartbreaking images, I was reminded of the Israelites in Exodus, Chapter 1. The Israelites were oppressed under taskmasters who ruthlessly beat and controlled them. <i>Verses 13 & 14, "They worked the Israelites ruthlessly and made their lives bitter with difficult labor in brick and mortar, and in all kinds of fieldwork. They ruthlessly imposed all this work on </i><i>them."</i> The fear that their newborn sons were going to be killed was so great that it caused one Levite woman to prepare a papyrus basket and place her son in the Nile, watching as he was rescued by Pharaoh's daughter. That baby boy was soon named Moses and was raised in Egypt, the land in which his own people were enslaved. <br />
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How interesting...<br />
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Moses grew up as an Egyptian and when he later fled to Midian, he was recognized as an Egyptian, not a Hebrew. He stayed in Midian and was given the comforts of a place to live, a wife and a son. He acquired all of this while his own people suffered harshly. Do we chastise Moses? Couldn't he have used his influence as the grandson of the Pharaoh to make some changes and stop the oppression? After all, he did observe it with his own eyes. Or maybe Pharaoh was just too big and powerful to fight against. It's not fair of us to judge Moses. That's God's business, not ours. <br />
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But just as Moses had observed the suffering with his own eyes, someone else had been observing too. The Israelites cried out because of their suffering, and "God saw the Israelites, and <b>He took notice</b>." vs 25 (emphasis mine)<br />
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<b>He</b>... took... notice. I am reminded with these three words that perhaps it's not always up to me to rescue everyone who is oppressed and poverty stricken. Perhaps it's not even America as a whole. Is it possible that it's up to God? That He is the one who sees and takes notice and decides when it's time for His people to be rescued? And is it possible that He'll choose to use those recognized as Haitians, Ugandans, Africans, Chinese, etc. to go back into their countries and bring their own out of the oppression? Who would know the Chinese better than those born and raised in China? Who would know the biases and prejudices between tribes and villages better than those who were raised in them? <br />
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Is it a far stretch to imagine that among all of those hurting and suffering in Haiti, the Congo, or any poverty stricken area there isn't one child of His groaning and crying out to God on behalf of his or her people? Can I be comforted knowing that God sees the suffering, and will choose when the time is right to liberate His people from their oppression? Praise be the answer is undoubtedly, Yes.<br />
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God is not fooled. He knows of the sufferings and pains of all who are oppressed by dictators, sickness, hard times, forced labor, beatings, hunger, poverty, and sexual abuse. He knows and He takes notice. It will never fall solely on us. <br />
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I don't know about you, but that encourages me. <br />
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</div>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-58333280649244792772010-01-14T16:16:00.012-06:002010-01-14T18:26:00.115-06:00Getting My Hands Dirty<div><br />
</div> I wonder how many of us have had our fill today. Our fill of food, fill of struggle, fill of pleasantry. We have all been filled with something. One of the things I've been filled with is the thought of poverty. Not poverty in the context of money, but poverty in the context of destitute living. As I was cleaning up my desk, I came across a notecard on which I had written:<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>"He who works his land will have abundant food, but the one </i><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>who chases fantasies will have his fill of poverty." (Proverbs 28:19) </i><br />
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As a person who has no problem allowing my imagination to take me to faraway places, this is such a vital verse for me. So often I catch myself sitting around chasing fantasies in my head. I began wondering if anyone else does the same. How many of us are foolishly praying for our territory to be expanded when it's comprised of nothing but barren soil? Do we really want more of nothing? Are we sitting around waiting for the "thing" that we believe will lead us to the happily-ever-after instead of shoving our hands in the dirt and working our land? <br />
<ul><li>Do I desire to raise God-fearing, respectful children, but succumb to them when they throw their fits when I say no? </li>
<li>Do I desire to lose weight, but refuse to acknowledge my poor eating habits and refuse to exercise using busyness or lack of interest as an excuse? </li>
<li>Do I desire a great relationship with my husband, but refuse to admit where<i> I</i> might be failing, ready to point the finger at him? </li>
<li>Do I desire to cultivate strong friendships, but bail at the first sign of hardship, disagreement, or difficult circumstance?</li>
<li>Do I desire a deep relationship with the Lord, but refuse to spend time praying or studying the Bible? </li>
</ul> I can think of so many more. The point is, all of the beginning scenarios are only fantasies if I'm not willing to get my hands dirty and start cultivating from the ground up. I've got to examine the soil around me, and most importantly, <i>in</i> me. What needs to be added? What needs to be cleared away? I'm learning that until I'm willing to sweat, and start digging, I'll never grow a crop much less an abundance of food. If all I do is chase the possibilities, the fantasies, I will end up living in a destitute state, with my fill of poverty.<br />
So does this mean that I'm going to stop dreaming and envisioning wonderful possibilities? Not hardly. But I am praying that the fantasies won't be purely fiction once I begin to work this ground around me. And I pray that out of the abundance of food, the Lord might allow me to share it with others who might be needing a little bit of sustenance while they work their own land.Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-64424853220283228162009-12-09T22:19:00.001-06:002009-12-09T23:34:23.583-06:00Because You Say So Why do I continue to doubt God? Maybe it's because I'm a human being with only a finite capability to understand the world around me.<br />
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I get so encouraged reading about the moments in scripture when Jesus's own disciples grappled with their doubt. Even though they physically walked side-by-side with Jesus, that didn't change the fact that they, like me, were nothing but clueless humans trying to understand what the all-knowing God was doing.<br />
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Take Simon Peter for instance. In Luke, chapter 5, he and his business partners were going about the normal routine of washing their nets on the shore. After a long, hard night of fishing they caught nothing. Perhaps they were tired and frustrated about that. Or maybe they knew that that was all part of being fishermen -- sometimes the nets come back empty. Either way, they were done for the day.<br />
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Enter Jesus. Borrowing Simon Peter's boat, he asked Simon to put out a little from shore so he could sit and teach the people from it. After he finished teaching them the word of God, he told Simon to take him out to deep waters for a catch. Watch Peter's response...<br />
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"Simon answered, 'Master, we've worked hard all night and haven't caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.'" (Luke 5:5)<br />
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What was his initial reaction? He questioned Jesus. Do you hear the hint of doubt in his statement? Peter couldn't stop it from coming out, <em>Um, excuse me master, we have</em> <em>already worked hard all night, and we caught nothing</em>. Doubting and questioning the master's plan and request, Peter was once again impulsively reacting without thinking. <br />
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But as many of us impulsive people do, he quickly recovered. <em>But because you say so, I will do it</em>. What happend next overwhelmed Simon and his companions to the point that the nets began to break, the boat began to sink, and his business partners had to come help him out. There was such a miraculous catch of fish that Simon and his companions were astonished. Filled with healthy fear and awe, Simon worshipfully fell at the feet of his Master, proclaimed him as Lord, and confessed that he was a sinful man. It was a pivotal moment for Simon, James and John; the moment that led them to leave everything, follow Jesus and become true "fishers-of-men."<br />
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How often do I doubt like Simon Peter did. <em>Um, excuse me Lord, I've been doing that and it hasn't</em> <em>worked</em>. And how often do I respond with a shrug of my shoulders, a raise of my brow, followed by, <em>Okay Lord. I don't know how that's going to work, but because you say so, I'll go ahead and do it</em>. The state of my heart in that moment isn't one of worshipful obedience, it's one full of doubt and arrogant disbelief of my master's ability to see the bigger picture.<br />
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But thankfully, the Lord's view isn't limited like mine. He ignores my disbelief, takes what I see as impossibility and turns it into the miraculous, leading me to fall at his feet in reverent awe and healthy fear, confessing that I am but a sinner. Encouragingly, he tells me not to fear, and uses that moment to increase my faith, so that I will have no other option than to learn to trust, leave everything behind and follow Him. <br />
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<br />Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-67081776786504833162009-11-02T12:09:00.010-06:002009-12-09T16:25:31.727-06:00A Tomato on the Vine<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Ever heard the cliche, "God works in mysterious ways?" Would using a can of chunky tomato sauce be considered a mysterious way? </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> As I was making dinner, I noticed the heading "Hurry Up and Wait" on the label of the tomato sauce. I immediately identified with that particular saying. There always seems to be a sense of urgency rushing inside of me. I rush, rush, rush and most of the time I end up having to wait for something (or nothing) to happen. I was interested to know what the writer meant with his hurry up and wait comment so I continued reading. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="white-space: pre;"></span></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Growing the sweetest tomatoes required more patience than you would ever imagine. The soil needed the richest nutrients and the vines needed tender-loving care. Each and every tomato needed many days basking in the warm sunshine. Great flavor could not be rushed. All this hard work has been rewarded with those delicious organic treasures ready to accent your recipes!"</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> As I watched the deep red sauce pour into the pot, I wondered if any of us have really taken the time to understand the hard work and patience it requires to grow a tomato. My guess would be that most of us haven't. But the man on the can, who smiles proudly while holding a cluster of vine-ripened tomatoes, has and does. He knows and understands the hard work that must go into it because he is in the tomato growing business. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I then felt a little nudging in my soul to go deeper with that thought. Had I ever taken the time to understand the hard work and patience it requires to grow a <i>person</i>? Do I truly understand the patience it requires to care for someone from the moment they are planted to the point of maturity? </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> To this question, my shallow and sarcastic response was, "yeah, I have children." But as I delved a little deeper, and really pondered it, I realized that I had to change my answer. Having children gives me a taste of what it requires to <i>raise</i> a person, but not to <i>grow</i> them from the inside out. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I can teach and encourage my children, but ultimately, I have no control over their reactions and responses as they encounter the world around them. I have no way of forcing my child to get rid of jealousy. I have no power to change my child's lack of motivation to do school work, or to get rid of the anxiety he/she feels. No, those issues are a reflection of what's going on inside their hearts. It's bad fruit growing on the branch. If I could reach in and prune those detrimental emotions, I would do it. But I can't. And just as I can't do it for my children, I am reminded that I cannot do it for myself. </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333;"> </span><span style="color: #333333;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Jesus teaches that he is the vine and his Father is the gardener. "<i>No branch can be</i><i>ar f</i>r<i>uit </i><b><i>by itsel</i><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><i>f</i></b>; <i>it must remain in the vine</i>." He doesn't stop there. "</span><i>Neither can you</i><span style="font-weight: normal;"> <i>bear fruit unless you remain in me</i>." No branch, not even one, can grow good fruit on its own, it needs Him. And just as the branch cannot do it, neither can I, not by myself. <i>He</i> is the vine from which I need to grow. He doesn't expect me to have the strength or the power to change my heart. <i>He</i> is the patient grower providing me all the richest nutrients my soul needs. Quite simply, I am like a tomato growing from the Vine.</span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> My growth will not happen overnight. It cannot be rushed. Neither I nor my loved ones around me are professionals in the tomato growing business. We can encourage and support one another, but we need to understand that we are growing in this cluster together. And that is going to require more patience than we will ever imagine.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Philippians 1:6 "Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." I have confidence that God is not going to abandon His tomato growing business leaving us to wither and die. No, He planted this seedling as well as the seedlings around me. Although He had full knowledge of the work we would require to grow into maturity, He planted us anyways, promising that He, the perfect gardener, will see us through from seedling to ripened tomato. </span><br /></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What an encouragement. </span><br />
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</div>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8778664994827140711.post-32042843210304056872009-10-29T13:08:00.019-05:002009-10-29T22:52:02.823-05:00Zombies, Skeletons and Vampires<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What do zombies, hanging skeletons and vampires have in common?</span><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They're all dead. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Halloween is upon us and if I didn't know any better, I would think that I live in the local cemetery. Our neighborhood is filled with kids, young and old alike, and for some reason mock gravestones, hanging skeletons, grim reapers and the creepiest, bloodiest things you can find are what they want to set out for Halloween. It's cool, mom.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The funny thing is most of them would probably pee their pants if </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">they were to come across zombies, hanging skeletons or vampires. Zombies would eat them, hanging skeletons would warn them that something bad is going on in the neighborhood, and a vampire would suck the blood clear out of them until they were dead. No more children</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Morbid, right? Yes, it is Halloween after all.</span><br />
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</div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I was reading Ephesians chapter two and came across the verses, "As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our sinful nature and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature objects of wrath."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Hmmm... how fitting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Perhaps there is a way to use all of this "scary stuff" to talk about death. We all know what it means to be dead physically. But to take it a bit deeper, what does it mean to be dead spiritually? </span><br />
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</div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well, since it is Halloween, I have paraphrased the verse above, Ephesians 2:1-2, using pop culture references. Fitting into the genre of horror and the most recent craze of zombies and vampires it is a metaphor about being dead in your sins and transgressions. </span><br />
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</div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i> I was a zombie</i><i>, following a ruler, a spirit who is at work in those who are wreaking havoc and mischief. I was the walking dead, searching to satisfy my craving for flesh, following the ways of zombieland. Those ways did nothing to give me life. In fact, just as a vampire sucks all the blood out of its victim, so did the world around me, making me even more of a zombie. Everything about that world, it's smell, the way it looked, even its voice seduced me. I craved everything that was separate from God, following my primal nature, putting all my needs above anyone else's. I devoured and destroyed anything that stood in my way in order to feed my craving for flesh. By my nature as the walking dead, I was doomed to return to the grav</i>e</span>. </span><br />
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</div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That is definitely a gruesome and ugly picture. But thankfully, there is good news. </span><br />
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</i></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></span><br />
</div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>But because of his great love for me, God, who is rich in mercy, made me alive with Christ even when I was the walking dead -- it is by his voluntary and loving favor, his merciful and loving character that I was saved from being a zombie forever. I was brought back to life. I was born again. </i></span></span><br />
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</div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Halloween is a holiday where we are encouraged to celebrate the sinister, mock death, and act a bit devilish. As I walk around this weekend and look at all the creepy images of blood and death, the "scary stuff," I pray that our hearts might be encouraged by the promise in Isaiah. One day, the Lord Almighty is going to swallow up death forever. </span><br />
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</div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and he will be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.'" (Revelation 21:3-4)</span><br />
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</div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">O death where is thy sting? </span><br />
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</div>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08357571615383704817noreply@blogger.com0