Great is Thy Faithfulness

Sometimes I get really tired of having to learn the same lessons over and over again. I grow closer to the Lord, get distracted, and can't regain intimacy. So I ask God to get my attention. He does, and I act like a crybaby about it. Well, He is answering your prayer, Skinner. Get over it and be greatful.
I am just learning so much about myself right now. What does it mean to be truly dependent on Christ for my everything? How does He even put up with me sometimes? I am so selfish and ask for so much, becoming callused to the Gospel and unevangelic in my mindset. Even still, in the midst of it all, He is faithful to love me. To cherish me. To shelter me in the shadow of His wings. How does that even work? How does God love me unconditionally? I just can't fathom it.
I know that God doesn't owe me anything. And he doesn't let a single need pass Him by without answering. So why do I have such a difficult time being content? Simply abiding in Him for all I could ever want? What does that even look like?
I want to love God the way He deserves to be loved. I want Him to show me how. Show me how to be content. To be compassionate. To love others, to forgive.

Jericho song

I walk down the street
To the let are the homeless
They are hungry
To the right are the sick
Begging for money
I look straight ahead
Afraid I might get dirty
What can You do with these dry bones?

O Lord God, You know
My heart breaks for this Jericho
Restorer, transform the ashes
Raise up an army from these dry bones
Rebuilder, tear down the walls
Let Your word penetrate the groans of our hearts
Help us, Lord, please to see the least of these

God, commander in chief
Your soldiers are ready
Marching on our knees
Begging for revival
Oh, Lord God, please
Hear the deepest yearning
of our broken hearts
We long to see lives
learn how to truly live

O Lord God, You know
My heart breaks for this Jericho
Restorer, transform the ashes
Raise up an army from these dry bones
Rebuilder, tear down the walls
Let Your word penetrate the groans of our hearts
Help us, Lord, please to see the least of these

Help me see hearts, not faces
Help me value souls, not pocketbooks
Show me how to love You like I need to
Unleash the flames my heart can't contain
Your word, igniting a spark of change
My battlecry remains "Mighty to save!"

Costly Intimacy

Picking up the pieces
of my shattered soul
I don't know how to
make it whole again

How can something
hurt so badly
When I'm striving
to be madly
in love with You?

Costly intimacy
Requiring all of me
Even the dark and
lonely parts
I think nobody sees

Heal my broken heart
And show me where to start
On my face is the
only place
I can bring myself to go

overflowing emotion

So....right now I have so much in my heart and in my mind that I need something faster than journal. No one reads this anyway so I feel pretty safe. Sometimes I just don't know how to process thought and emotion. Today I was held accountable for something that affects not only just me. I don't know how to handle it. Honestly, there is a part of me that is rejoicing. I have never been held accountable for anything. Ever. At the same time, it sucks and is really hard to process. How do I act on that without hurting others? What will the results of my actions be? Should I even change anything? Too much...I am on overload.
Lord,
You are so good and are worthy of so much more praise than I can give. Sometimes I am appalled at how I ignore the fact that I have direct access to the King of Kings! I pray that You could give me strength to crawl onto the altar. Please.

Song

You saw what can't be seen
My unformed me
Before my eyes were opened
You saw all I could be
I stand before You now
You aren't surprised
At what this form reflects
It's not beauty or intellect
I reflect in Your eyes

You see a clean heart
Covered by the blood of Your Son
You see a battlefield
Where the victory's already been won
Once desolate and forsaken
Now called a new name
Newly clothed
In righteousness robed
Betrothed to the King of Kings

It's because of Your mercy I sing
Lord You're everything

John 8:1-11

Caught. The heaviness of the word tangled itself within her throat. Her hair, pinned and combed only hours before, now served as a leash, pulling her to her doom. These men didn't seem to mind her attire (or lack thereof). They also didn't seem to be bothered by the streams of coal makeup flowing down her bloodless face, or the rips in her clothing. In fact, they rather enjoyed it. "You weren't fighting so hard a minute ago, whore," one of them said. She reached up to slap him but her wrist was caught by another man, covered in robes. "Don't let the filth touch you," he said to his friend. "You might catch something." The woman was consumed in grief. Men are all alike, she thought. They want something from you, and once they get it, they are done. Nothing but an object to be used and discarded. Even these men, though not sexually enticed by her, seemed to have some other purpose. It was evident in the speed they exhibited, the eagerness and excitement displayed as if coming home from a long hunt with fresh meat for the family. Why couldn't they have just stoned her when they caught her? Why this public display of humiliation? She couldn't bear to look at the crowds that had begun to follow. Children stopped their play and looked at her, mothers covering their eyes, protecting their sons and daughters from this "thing of iniquity." Suddenly, a memory came to her mind: a little girl in her daddy's arms, singing songs to Jehovah God. A sudden burst of pain, blood filled her mouth. So much for that, she thought. The little girl had grown up quickly when Father had given her away. "Sacrifices must be made," he had said. "Our family has to eat somehow." And so it had begun. Beauty comes with a price, and how she had paid it over and over again. Every time she entered a new chamber, the same wave of nausea mixed with a feeling of darkness encompassed her. And to think she had once thought of going to the church and asking for help...these religious zealots were only more than happy to "help" her now.
Suddenly, the pulling ceased and she was flung to the floor. Willfully opening her eyes, she glanced around. People stared from every angle. It seemed as though she was in the middle of some kind of circle. Had they all come just to see her? To point their fingers in scorn? She spat at them. The men began to talk to someone, a man drawing in the sand. She heard her sins listed one by one, then could hear nothing but the wracking of her own sobs within her throat. Oh God, just make it fast. Death would be better than this humiliation. The man in the sand glanced up and spoke to the group. A hush went throughout the crowd. What was it that he said? She winced, expecting to feel the blow of the stones the crowd had been collecting on their way to the meeting. Thump. Thump. What was happening? Afraid to open her eyes, she laid on the ground, her body tensed, waiting for the first rush of pain. It didn't come. Instead, a touch. Someone was helping her up. As she opened her eyes, she looked into the face of the man writing in the sand. Expecting to see condemnation, she instead felt something new: peace, love, compassion, grief for her trials. Who is this man?
He began to wipe the tears from her eyes. He spoke: "Woman, where are they? Did no one condemn you?" She glanced around, seeing stones discarded where angry men had stood moments before. She couldn't understand what had happened, but one thing she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt: this man was no ordinary man. No one had ever looked at her that way. Instead of desiring flesh, lust, pleasure, it seemed as though he desired to help her. To restore her. Feeling that she should respond, she muttered, "No one, Lord." A hand flew to her mouth. What had she just called him? Would the men come running back in, picking up their stones, screaming "blasphemy"? But for some reason, she could not take it back. The word had flown from her mouth naturally, out of her control.
He gazed at her lovingly, helping her onto her feet. "I do not condemn you, either. Go. From now on sin no more."
She stared intently into his eyes, searching for some explanation. But all she saw was forgiveness. Love. Mercy. She straightened her dress and turned away. Though she could not explain what had happened, she knew that her life would never be the same. Love had met her and changed her in a way that was incommunicable. A smile crossed her lips, and for a moment, she felt like the little girl once again. Clean.


May we all feel the touch of forgiveness, love, and restoration like the adulterous woman. May I be reminded every day that she and I are one and the same. And there is a Savior who has forgiven the both of us, and His blood has made us clean and set us free. May the mere thought of it overwhelm us.

Jericho

So...
Today I was taken aback by a number of things...most of them God-related. This morning, Hailey and I met with Dr. Smith about the visions we both have for community outreach. I thought I was excited when Hailey and I had shared with one another. I left the meeting this morning speechless...God is so awesome! Not only has He placed the vision on others' hearts, but is slowly but surely making everything come to pass! It is so strange to just look up one day and see God in the midst of knocking the walls down. After lap after lap of marching...and the marching still is not done. But I will raise my Ebenezer to the Almighty, and continue to march. As long as it takes.

Sovereignty

I wrote a facebook note a few days ago that sparked a train of thoughts by both me and other members of the community. The question I posed was "How do we be Jesus to Brownwood?" Probably the most significant comment was the one that challenged me in many ways. I have been extremely excited about the things God is doing in this town, at HPU, in my heart. Pursuing them heartily, I have been doing my best to get people on board with the ideas I and my peers have had. However, someone posed a question: would I be willing to see these things through? What if the 24-7 prayer room doesn't get a building until April? What if it takes more than a year to really see change occur? Would I be willing to stay in town? This completely through me for a loop. How dare anyone interfere with my plans...shame on them. I have planned for a while now on moving to the Metroplex, getting my own pad and a teaching job, etc. What if that is not what God wants? I feel like I am at a crisis of belief. Do I trust God and His sovereignty enough to know that wherever I am, He is in control? To know that He will provide if I trust? Geez...question of the hour. Still processing!
I don't know if anyone reads this, but if you do, grab on tight to what God is doing around you and don't let go. I read a quote in Red Moon Rising that says, "It’s frightening when you blink and discover that you’re in a speeding car but no longer driving. It’s scary to realize that God is moving and you are somehow caught up in something much bigger than you could possibly have known." Hang on and enjoy the ride, and let the Savior of the world take you into a whirlwind surpassing all you have previously known. It's awesome.

Ruin Me

I think that the hardest part of missions is returning home. Not so much missing people, though that is a struggle for sure. Not really even about the job. I can volunteer in a center anywhere. Mainly I miss what felt like the "easy access" to the throne. Every day I have been home, I have become aware of just how human I am. I long to be in the arms of Jesus, hearing His sweet whisper in my head, holding His hand as I walk day to day, in constant companionship with my King. But now is the tough part where I am called to fight. As a woman, I really don't think about battle that often. I love Gladiator just like the next Joe (or Jane..) but when I think of going to war, it kind of weirds me out. But I am at a point in my faith where I must either battle to get closer, fixing my eyes on Jesus, or be satisfied with mediocrity. The song "Ruin my life" by Jeff Johnson really speaks my language right now. I desire so much for God to just rock my world and turn it upside down. Take all this crap that so easily entangles me, so I can run with endurance the race set before me. Let His Word penetrate my life. What does that look like? I hope I find out.

Overheard conversation

This is a poem I wrote as a conversation between an abortion-minded woman and God.

There is no life within me
Despite what you may say.
Though two lines means "positive,"
There simply is no way.

I can't see any fingers
Upon that big black screen.
Certainly a living thing
Could easily be seen.

What will all of my friends say
Once they hear the big news?
There's no room for motherhood
While shopping for prom shoes.

My parents will be angry,
They're sure to turn away.
They won't believe their daughter
Has now turned out this way.

Just one night, that's all it was,
A temporary fling.
Now is not the time for this
Supposed "living thing."

You say that God has answers
and promises He's made.
Well, Jesus, where are You now?
I'm lonely and afraid.

MY CHILD, I'M RIGHT BESIDE YOU
AS I ALWAYS HAVE BEEN.
I FELT THE PAIN YOU FEEL NOW
AS THE NAILS PIERCED MY SKIN.

YOUR FACE WAS EVER PRESENT
IN MY MIND, ON THAT TREE.
THE SIN WHICH YOU'VE COMMITTED
WAS TRANSFERRED ONTO ME.

BEFORE YOUR MOTHER KNEW YOU
YOUR LIFE WAS IN MY PLAN.
I KNEW WHAT YOU WOULD LOOK LIKE,
I WAS YOUR BIGGEST FAN.

NOW IN YOUR CURRENT DARKNESS,
I'VE GIVEN YOU A LIGHT.
TO SHINE THROUGHOUT YOUR SORROW,
AND GIVE YOUR BLINDNESS SIGHT.

THOUGH IT MAY SEEM SMALL TO YOU,
THIS BABY'S LIFE IS GRAND.
I'VE FASHIONED EVERY DETAIL
IN THE PALM OF MY HAND.

I VALUE EVERY HEARTBEAT.
I VALUE EVERY THOUGHT.
LIFE IS A GIFT, BIG OR SMALL,
DESPITE WHAT YOU'VE BEEN TAUGHT.

SO LET ME BE YOUR COMFORT
AND TAKE ME BY THE HAND.
WHEN YOU FALL DOWN, DON'T WORRY.
I'LL GIVE YOU STRENGTH TO STAND.

FOR THOUGH YOU WILL ALWAYS LOVE
YOUR SON OR YOUR DAUGHTER,
THERE IS NO GREATER LOVE THAN
THE LOVE OF THE FATHER.

A Baby's Prayer

One thing that God has shown me in the past 2 months (rather, reinforced in me) is the sanctity of life. I think that alot of times we assume as Christians that we are all pro-life. We never really take the time to figure out what that means. What is life? As I counsel with women, as I see their ultrasounds, I am overwhelmed by how brilliant God is in His creation of life. At 3 weeks, a baby's heart is beating. By 7 weeks, it already has everything it needs in its body. The rest of the time, it is simply developing. I heard this song by Kathy Troccoli a long time ago. It is from the perspective of a baby in the womb that is about to be aborted. I just thought I would share it since we all sometimes need to look at things from a different perspective.

"I can hear her talking with a friend, I think it's all about me
Oh how she can't have a baby now my mommy doesn't see
That I feel her breathe, I know her voice
Her blood, it flows through my heart
God you know my greatest wish is that
We'd never be apart
But if I should die before I wake, I pray her soul you'll keep
Forgive her Lord, she doesn't know, that you gave life to me
Do I really have to say goodbye, don't want this time to be through
Oh please tell her that I love her Lord, and that you love her too
Cause if I should die before I wake, I pray her soul you'll keep
Forgive her Lord, she doesn't know that you gave life to me
On the days when she may think of me, please comfort her with the truth
That the angels hold me safe and sound, cause I'm in Heaven with you
I'm in Heaven with you"
-Kathy Troccoli