Freedom Found

Last night before bed, I was reading through Ecclesiastes and had a sudden urge to jump over to Isaiah. My heart landed on chapter 52 and for the billionth time, my eyes and heart fell upon verses 1 and 2. I even had to spread their beautiful message to a few close friends of mine on Facebook and then decided to spread their beauty here as well.



The big secret behind this blog is that I'm a writer that, at times, masquerades as someone creative or (more often) someone that makes a pretty cute copy of something I've seen in other places. Each time I start to forget my love for words, I read God's Word and remember that my Father is also a poet. I'll prove it :). After speaking of the judgement that will come upon Israel, God uses this image to prophecy of their return to Him.



Awake, awake, O Zion, clothe yourself in strength. Put on your garments of splendor, O Jerusalem the Holy City. The uncircumcised and defiled will not enter you again. Shake off your dust, rise up, sit enthroned, O Jerusalem. Free yourself from the chains around your neck, O Captive Daughter of Zion. Isaiah 52:1-2

The image is this woman. She's dirty, she's lost all hope, the chains around her neck are uncomfortable, and she's been defiled. Yet, here comes a messenger. I imagine she would be curious about him and probably immediately distrust him thinking he was the same as her oppressors. Yet, here he comes with Good News and a message of hope and strength. He tells her to wake up! He tells her to clothe herself in strength and gives her the promise that her slavery is over and will not happen again. I also imagine pauses between his next commands, waiting for her to fully comprehend each. He gives her the power needed to break that chain she's been trying to find a way out of for who knows how long and calls her Daughter of Zion. Child of God. A heavenly princess and heir in her own right because of her holy heritage.

Each time I read this, images of women I've come across whether in person or through media fly through my head. I see girls sitting in college classrooms or celebrities on the cover of tabloids. Mothers in grocery stores with longer lists than their wallets can afford. I see little girls wanting to know the truth but no one telling them. And through all those, I want to be that messenger. I, selfishly, want to be the one that comes over the hill, looks into their distrustful eyes, and speaks joy and Truth to them. I want to wipe away the tears and say, "yes, indeed, it's true. I was once chained and alone too." Don't you? Shouldn't all Daughters of Zion want to find our sisters, wherever they may be imprisoned, and run to them. To throw them the key that will unlock the hurt forever? I do, and I'm so grateful for a God that gives women images to look to, knowing us intimately and, therefore, knowing we need it spelled out in ways that mean "me too" not just others.

Flawless Beauties of His

woah, two blog posts in a row?! It'll never happen again, don't worry ;).

Since I first surrendered to the calling of ministry 5 years ago, God has been teaching me more and more about women. (That could be why I was given two daughters and not sons. I need lots and lots of lessons) Of these lessons, one of the biggest has been the battles that Satan fights to ensure difficulty in women breaking free. One is men against women, quite a bit ahead of that one is women against women, but the absolute hardest battle is women against themselves.

With the genders, you're fighting insecurity, possession, jealousy, ignorance, and plain old stupidity. Women against women isn't that different except those emotions are stronger. The jealousy is stronger, the insecurity is harder, and the ignorance is the reigning one of all. Women have no idea that they have more in common with women as a whole than they'd care to believe. It's easier to "hate women" because they're "all catty, backstabbing, and crazy." When in fact, women are strong, nurturing, creative, and loving people. I promise you they are. That's even what I'll devote my life to proving.

But, then comes in the largest battle. The one that causes me, and other women devoted to God's daughters, to go head to head in a vicious spiritual battle. Women vs. themselves. You see it all over. Someone jokes with them in a way that's inappropriate or borderline offensive. A comment is made by someone or the woman about the way she looks in something while she watches all the other girls in the same clothing, and they "pull it off." These women would probably agree with you on how wrong those things are about other women. "They should never say that about Grandma!" or "That's not something that should ever come out of anyone's mouth to the pastor's wife." or "She's beautiful! I think she dresses so lovely, and she's crazy to think she's not gorgeous!" but if you turn those around on them, they'd hang their heads.

Why? Why is it worse for someone to say something almost mean in a joking way to the pastor's wife, but not about you? Why should people stand up for that young girl, but you're fine to just shake off hurtful comments? and why, oh why, do you not see how lovely you are?

One day soon, you should sit and open the book Song of Solomon and read your Beloved's letter to you. It is symbolic of Jesus' heart towards us, His church, and He feels this about you personally. Not just the pastor's wife, though her too, not just that cute passionate girl, though her too, but you. You, His flawless one.

You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you. -Song of Solomon 4:7

Empty Gage

I'm happy that God knows women better than we know ourselves. He gave us our nurturing characteristics and He also knows that with that gift, among others, we have a tendency to over nurture. We get so busy taking care of everyone and everything else, that we forget about ourselves. Then, at the end of the day (sometimes even the middle of the day), we've poured out all the gentleness, patience, and every other fruit of the Spirit we had and are now running on fumes. I very often find myself forgetting to refuel and then sitting, stranded on the road without being able to do anything until He comes and refills me. Now this is where the beauty of motherhood comes in. Not only does He give mothers a new fufilling role of nurturer, but He balances out our inability to see clearly any longer that we need refueling.
My daughter is my gage. Sometimes, I feel like I can be nice to other people, but how I'm reacting to London shows exactly where my Spirit is. I can be nice and apologetic to a waitress during London's meltdown, and publically be patient with her, but inside, I'm humilated and beyond frustrated. I'm learning to watch not only my outward responses to London, but my internal reactions. I'm learning to refuel before I become harsh or "too" impatient, but that's an uphill battle that I haven't quite mastered. I'm just happy to say I finally saw the tool God is using in my life.
My prayer now is that I remember not to see everything my daughter, or children, do wrong. To let her enjoy being a child, even if that requires Mommy to turn her head in situations, such as when she wants to squish the rest of the banana she's having for snack instead of saying she's done. (Not that I'd give her more banana after that haha) But to see that she's playing with something that maybe I don't care for her to touch, but in the end, it's hurting no one and she's not unsafe, learning bad habits, or being rebellious...she's just curious. Life is so full of new things for her, and I want desperately to reflect the love for her that my Lord has that she can't quite understand yet. I would love for her to learn about God as she grows with an easy realization that He loves her beyond her understanding because that's what she gets at home and it isn't baffling to her.

He who fears the Lord has a secure fortress, and for his children it will be a refuge. Proverbs 14:26

Warning: Work in Progress

In this busy busy season of my life, I always feel like I'm one step ahead of getting pulled under from a swift current. I've never seen more clearly that I am a work in progress until this semester. It seems like a mother's to-do list is eternally lengthening and never accomplished and a college student's is similar but in a very different way. I'm both...in fact, I just realized that I still think in semesters, not months or years. I think that if you look at the to-do lists of students and mothers, as complicated as they are and as long as they are, they are nothing compared to the to-do list of a Christian. Add Christian to another title you carry, and you have just added tons. Today, go to the bank, talk to the babysitter about London's meals, finish term paper for Friday so you can start on the other 4 due, and...love everyone while doing it? Remember to pray more than just for God to help you keep your testimony and not lose it by honking at the people driving crazy in front of you?
The simple truths I've learned recently have hit me harder than I ever imagined and I feel like I have so much to work on that I'll never have enough time to do it all. Truths like, Most people don't need my words; in fact, most don't even want them. They need the power in the Word of God. Or, respect and honor for God is NOT love for Him. Or, I can pray for a miracle until I'm blue in the face, but in the end, God's plan is His plan and....as hard as it is to accept, He knows more than me about loving people and what is best for them.
I'm only just realizing as well, that I don't have to work on all these alone. He will fight my battles for me, if I will just release my grip on them. I can't even open a jar of pickles because of my weak hands, but somehow, I have the strength to hang on hard to the tail end of an issue and not let go, no matter how God tries to show me He's got it.
I have no deep truths to share with this blog. No insight that I have seen through the dark tunnel of life. Only the fact that I am a work in progress and am grateful that I'm not in charge. Grateful for the women in my life that are works in progress as well but are much quicker at handing Him the reins. And I'm mostly grateful that when nothing else shows me what He means by joy, or patience, or slow to anger and speech, He sends me a little girl that makes me laugh so hard every day that I have tears running down my sore cheeks, that makes me breathe in slowly every day and take a moment before I ask her for the 45th time not to scream or throw cheerios at me. I'm grateful that He shows me unconditional love in a diaper taken off without my knowledge in the crib, and that peace is not calm quiet during nap time like I originally thought, but in watching her sleep and knowing she's safe and being secure in her love.