Thursday, April 11, 2013

Spring Encapsulated

Spring encapsulated. 

Reminds me of my own delicate heart. Sometimes just as it begins to blossom, 
there's need for one more splattering reminder of winter's grasp. 

The grip of death takes hold once more, threatening to arrest nature's momentum. 
Threatening to change my spring showers into cold tears of regret.

But alas, God whispers to my budding heart, 
remain in me and I shall give you eternal life.

Thank you, Lord Majesty.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

a mother's cry for help

Visualize a hole being dug deep enough for you to stand in and then dirt packed tightly around you just above your shoulders. Only your head sprouting out from the earth. No free hand to protect your most vulnerable part. No feet or legs to run away with. This is how stonings are performed in some parts of the world.

Today, I was with her in America. She was buried up to her chin, but not with dust of earth. 

Do you believe me? 

This one here, she was six feet under the stench of a world gone mad; buried deep under the lust for her baby from one, the demanding pride to reach the top of her field from another, the fear of looking bad in front of colleagues by another. The message was loud and clear. YOU are disposable. I matter, you do not.  You are merely a report from the State to me.  You aren't flesh and bone.  You aren't fearfully and wonderfully made.  And you will be used for my gain.  And when you express your pain and hurt, I will use it against you to mask my own brokenness.  

She sat quietly as long as she was able. Stones pelting her from around the room. 

But one thing was forgotten. Those rulers, those authorities, those powers of this dark world; they failed to tape her mouth shut, so they might kill her in peace and take her babies.

And what she said next cut through me like only the Word can do. It was like God peeled His breath from those ancient pages of scripture and she inhaled glory into her young lungs and He exhaled on that room and it was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. Tears pooling, courage overtaking her and she told 'em. She said it like a low rumble of thunder from Heaven, "I'm so tired of people throwing stones at me." God gave her a voice alright and it was straight-laced with the words of Jesus.

In that moment, I felt like I was sitting right close to Stephen himself. The one our Mighty Lord stood to receive in Heaven. And that sure lights my Holy fire, because it's not every day you see Yeshua standing at the right hand of God. He mostly sits.

And I am forever grateful He gave me eyes to see. Because not everyone can. And I don't ever want to take that for granted. I was blind, but now I see, Lord Majesty.
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