This day is gorgeous.... time slowly dripping by and things of my mind call me to type my little fingers away. Cool breezes, funny dog races up and down my hallway and the radio playing in the background. My eyes view beauty and crave the quiet to last for days rather than just a few hours. It's not that the quiet is in the noise, but in my heart. I like this quiet. Peaceful heart that comes after a long week, time with friends and a great nights sleep.
Some say that quiet is often their doom... but do they mean silence or stillness? Peace all around is the best source of rejuvenation one can find... at least in this heart. Followed by a close second... cleaning. I know sounds insane... but somehow setting my physical world right sets this heart right. I read somewhere that cleaning, or having a clean house can represent what is happening in one's heart... and I guess, for me, it can be true. Or it can mean I'm too busy for my own good. :)
Right now I'm peaceful in the knowledge that God is working for me, I'm finally allowing him to work in me, and my world around me will be set right after all this time. Such peace is too great for me. How I long for it more...
Showing posts with label 2008. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2008. Show all posts
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Desert Rain
My throat is dry, parched, toasty and cracked
the ground beneath my feet is shaky, uneven
The sun hot on my back, the wind still and flat
There are no clouds, no break
Solid is the weight of the heat
Water is the illusion that taunts me
the ground and sky unrelenting
The sun once considered my friend,
now my enemy
Desperate is the weight of my heart
My heart is this desert
unrelenting, unforgiving, dry, cracked and barren
not placed in this desert, for growth and renewal
but chosen by my wandering heart
And now I'm lost in this wasteland
Empty is the weight of my soul
Then the rain comes
each drop like a splash of life
flowing like sheets of blessed relief
my whole body rejoices
The weight of the pain of that torturous sun is gone
Replaced by the joyous weight of the rain
It touches every part of me
filling my soul with joy, giddiness even
water touches my head, my hands, my feet and even my heart
leaving me quenched and more alive than I could imagine
Life flows with every drop of this Living Water
Hope is found
and joy renewed
even the dry and weary land that is the desert
is renewed, transformed
What beauty to be placed here
or to find yourself in
Defeat, surrender and life anew
That is the joy of the desert
when Living Water flows over me
this wasteland now a garden, it's renewed and transformed!
M. Ruth Smith
September 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Can you hear me?
Its early morning and I stretch real big when I wake up. I look up and see the sun is shining- that’s good, mom’s always nicer when the sun is out.
I climb out of bed and shout “Good morning sun!” but there is no response, so I get ready for school. Today, I think I’ll wear the blue jumper. That lady from the church gave it to me.
Mom said that it’s too big and it looks stupid on such a skinny girl like me, but I don’t care. That lady said she thought I’d like it- and I do. Even though it’s old and it kinda smells.
I go down the hallway and see mom sitting over the toilet again. So, I get her a towel and help her get in the shower. She hates it when I talk, so I hum her favorite song as I brush my hair and put it in my favorite head band that that lady gave me too.
Mom gets out of the shower and yells at me to hurry, cause I’ll be late for school. If I’m late again she said I’d have to go live at someone else’s house like my brother. I love my mom; I don’t want to live with anyone else.
When I look at the clock it says 6:30 AM. And the bus doesn’t come until 7:30AM. But mom says she’s gonna whoop my ass if I don’t get going. So, I grab my bag and walk to the bus stop. I don’t mind really. The sun is shining today and it’s springtime and warm here in my town. At least the winter is gone and I don’t have to wear my brother’s old coat anymore.
My stomach growls and I realize I didn’t get my bread this morning. Well, at least lunch today is a good one- my favorite- Mac and cheese and hotdogs!
When the other kids get to the bus stop, they start making fun of my clothes- so I always wait behind the tree across the street; so I can see when the bus is coming. But I don’t have to talk to the other kids.
Except today one of the kid’s moms is passing out muffins for the kids to take if they want. And my stomach is growling something fierce. And she looks nice. But if I go over there the kids will call me names and maybe throw something at me. I’m afraid. So I don’t go.
The bus is coming down the street and the kids look so happy. I know the truth is that they are all mean and ready to have fun – with me as the favorite target. I have prayed before that god would stop the bullies from hurting me. But it never works. And the bullies only get bigger. I wish just this one time that the bus would come and the kids would forget about getting on it.
I like school. I like learning; I even like the homework that the teachers give me. I just don’t like the kids. The teachers never help either. So there’s a wish, a school with no kids or teachers.
Every day I walk the hallways and wonder what kind of pain is coming. Am I just going to get made fun of or am I going to get punched for my lunch ticket? Everyday someone else finds use of me for their amusement. Did I use that word right? Yeah, it was one of our spelling words. Amusement. Funny that that word isn’t fun to me.
I guess if the other kids got treated like this maybe they would stop. But nope, find one and use her. And guess what – I’m it.
The bus finally arrives and I have to get across the street and on it before it leaves, but I have to time it just right. Too early and I get pushed to the ground and dirty before the day starts, too late and I miss the bus. I run and wait just behind the bus and I get on just behind the last kid. Good. Maybe I can find a seat by myself and not get picked on. Nope. One kid in every seat. Now what?
I look at the back of the bus and the kids back there are daring me to come back there… but at least I’m too smart for that. The bus driver screams at me to sit down so I choose the closest seat to me. And then the names start.
Twiggy, stick girl, zipper, thin slice and my least favorite- invisible girl. Like no one can see me and no one cares.
I have often wondered what it must be like to be in a home with both a mommy and a daddy. To have a brother at home. To have someone love me. Maybe I am invisible girl.
Does anyone see me? Does anyone care? What would happen if I just didn’t catch the bus next time, and I found a ride to someplace cool, like California or… I know! I could go to Disney World!! They would see me there right?
If I stood up on this bus and screamed would anyone hear me?
I climb out of bed and shout “Good morning sun!” but there is no response, so I get ready for school. Today, I think I’ll wear the blue jumper. That lady from the church gave it to me.
Mom said that it’s too big and it looks stupid on such a skinny girl like me, but I don’t care. That lady said she thought I’d like it- and I do. Even though it’s old and it kinda smells.
I go down the hallway and see mom sitting over the toilet again. So, I get her a towel and help her get in the shower. She hates it when I talk, so I hum her favorite song as I brush my hair and put it in my favorite head band that that lady gave me too.
Mom gets out of the shower and yells at me to hurry, cause I’ll be late for school. If I’m late again she said I’d have to go live at someone else’s house like my brother. I love my mom; I don’t want to live with anyone else.
When I look at the clock it says 6:30 AM. And the bus doesn’t come until 7:30AM. But mom says she’s gonna whoop my ass if I don’t get going. So, I grab my bag and walk to the bus stop. I don’t mind really. The sun is shining today and it’s springtime and warm here in my town. At least the winter is gone and I don’t have to wear my brother’s old coat anymore.
My stomach growls and I realize I didn’t get my bread this morning. Well, at least lunch today is a good one- my favorite- Mac and cheese and hotdogs!
When the other kids get to the bus stop, they start making fun of my clothes- so I always wait behind the tree across the street; so I can see when the bus is coming. But I don’t have to talk to the other kids.
Except today one of the kid’s moms is passing out muffins for the kids to take if they want. And my stomach is growling something fierce. And she looks nice. But if I go over there the kids will call me names and maybe throw something at me. I’m afraid. So I don’t go.
The bus is coming down the street and the kids look so happy. I know the truth is that they are all mean and ready to have fun – with me as the favorite target. I have prayed before that god would stop the bullies from hurting me. But it never works. And the bullies only get bigger. I wish just this one time that the bus would come and the kids would forget about getting on it.
I like school. I like learning; I even like the homework that the teachers give me. I just don’t like the kids. The teachers never help either. So there’s a wish, a school with no kids or teachers.
Every day I walk the hallways and wonder what kind of pain is coming. Am I just going to get made fun of or am I going to get punched for my lunch ticket? Everyday someone else finds use of me for their amusement. Did I use that word right? Yeah, it was one of our spelling words. Amusement. Funny that that word isn’t fun to me.
I guess if the other kids got treated like this maybe they would stop. But nope, find one and use her. And guess what – I’m it.
The bus finally arrives and I have to get across the street and on it before it leaves, but I have to time it just right. Too early and I get pushed to the ground and dirty before the day starts, too late and I miss the bus. I run and wait just behind the bus and I get on just behind the last kid. Good. Maybe I can find a seat by myself and not get picked on. Nope. One kid in every seat. Now what?
I look at the back of the bus and the kids back there are daring me to come back there… but at least I’m too smart for that. The bus driver screams at me to sit down so I choose the closest seat to me. And then the names start.
Twiggy, stick girl, zipper, thin slice and my least favorite- invisible girl. Like no one can see me and no one cares.
I have often wondered what it must be like to be in a home with both a mommy and a daddy. To have a brother at home. To have someone love me. Maybe I am invisible girl.
Does anyone see me? Does anyone care? What would happen if I just didn’t catch the bus next time, and I found a ride to someplace cool, like California or… I know! I could go to Disney World!! They would see me there right?
If I stood up on this bus and screamed would anyone hear me?
FEAR DESPERATION ANXIETY
HOPELESSNESS!!!
___________________________________________________
Everyday a child somewhere within your reach is thinking and crying just like this little girl. Her heart is screaming for someone somewhere to tell her she is loved. Even if one person reaches out with a hand that says you matter, one more child’s life could be saved.
I’m hearing more and more of children- yes children thinking suicidal thoughts. Thinking that if no one cares – who cares? I have seen with my own eyes the empty, hollow, pain filled eyes of KIDS wanting someone to care.
In juvenile halls kids are feeling safe for the first time. Boundaries are set and they thrive- take them out and they mess up on purpose to be back in that safe place.
How did our world get so messed up that we allow our children to be raised in juvenile halls?
My passion is to have every child within my reach and within the reach of my family and friends to know – really know that there is someone that loves them. And if everyone here on earth forgets- He never forgets.
I want them to know that God loves them. Not the “I love you” from valentines cards from kids that were forced to pass them out, but real love. The kind that is there to listen to the names and soothe where the blisters are. To be the voice in the stillness that whispers comfort into the hearts of the broken.
I want them to know that God collects their tears and He counts the hairs on their head. He thinks about them so much that they couldn’t count how many thoughts are in His head.
I want them to believe – I want them to know – I want them to relish in this God that created them. I want them feel the hug from God’s arms around them and I want the juvenile halls to be empty.
I crave that every arm of every child know just once what it is like to be hugged- with a bear hug of love. I desire and dream and wish and want only to pursue to be the arms, legs, mouth and eyes of Jesus to every child that I meet.
When they cry – I cry and Jesus cries. When they starve, my heart and stomach ache with brokenness. When they are weak- I wish I could be their strength.
“My eyes fail because of tears, my spirit is greatly troubled. My heart is poured out on the earth because of the destruction of the daughter of my people, when little ones and infants faint in the streets of the city. They say to their mothers where is the grain and wine? As they faint like a wounded man. In the streets of the city as their life is poured out on their mothers bosom.” Lamentations 2: 11-12
I know that Jesus cared for little ones, over and over he used them to* illustrate in his teachings. I know that if he were on earth today our children would have him wailing in pain. And the anger he displayed in the temple I’m sure would be displayed in the plains of Africa; Orphanages in Asia, Europe, South America and in homes across North America.
God has me wired as a protector of these little ones. Passionate that they know love, that they know the Author of love and that they are cared for in every definition of that word.
I have yet to figure out why God has wired me so. I wonder if it’s for just one child, or if it’s for thousands? If it’s for the purpose of spurring others on in the care of the children around them or if I will have the pleasure of having the slimy, gooey hands on my clothes just before dinner? Will I be a mother- or the encourager of mothers?
The talents and abilities our Father has given me baffle me. I know that they are for a purpose, and I wait anxiously to find out how they can be put to work. They mean nothing if the tools aren’t in the Master’s hand.
Sign language, writing, singing, teaching, praying, children, crafting, painting, loving, prophesying, administration, computers, smarts, all of these are dung unless the Master is using them.
Although my heart is SCREAMING to be used in a way other than answering phones, I AM going to wait patiently and all the while learning to be content- where I’m at- so that God can be glorified even now.
The Father knows how and why he wired me like he did… I’m just waiting to find out myself.
*Matt. 18:1-6, 19:13-15, etc.
M. Ruth Smith
Spring 2008
___________________________________________________
Everyday a child somewhere within your reach is thinking and crying just like this little girl. Her heart is screaming for someone somewhere to tell her she is loved. Even if one person reaches out with a hand that says you matter, one more child’s life could be saved.
I’m hearing more and more of children- yes children thinking suicidal thoughts. Thinking that if no one cares – who cares? I have seen with my own eyes the empty, hollow, pain filled eyes of KIDS wanting someone to care.
In juvenile halls kids are feeling safe for the first time. Boundaries are set and they thrive- take them out and they mess up on purpose to be back in that safe place.
How did our world get so messed up that we allow our children to be raised in juvenile halls?
My passion is to have every child within my reach and within the reach of my family and friends to know – really know that there is someone that loves them. And if everyone here on earth forgets- He never forgets.
I want them to know that God loves them. Not the “I love you” from valentines cards from kids that were forced to pass them out, but real love. The kind that is there to listen to the names and soothe where the blisters are. To be the voice in the stillness that whispers comfort into the hearts of the broken.
I want them to know that God collects their tears and He counts the hairs on their head. He thinks about them so much that they couldn’t count how many thoughts are in His head.
I want them to believe – I want them to know – I want them to relish in this God that created them. I want them feel the hug from God’s arms around them and I want the juvenile halls to be empty.
I crave that every arm of every child know just once what it is like to be hugged- with a bear hug of love. I desire and dream and wish and want only to pursue to be the arms, legs, mouth and eyes of Jesus to every child that I meet.
When they cry – I cry and Jesus cries. When they starve, my heart and stomach ache with brokenness. When they are weak- I wish I could be their strength.
“My eyes fail because of tears, my spirit is greatly troubled. My heart is poured out on the earth because of the destruction of the daughter of my people, when little ones and infants faint in the streets of the city. They say to their mothers where is the grain and wine? As they faint like a wounded man. In the streets of the city as their life is poured out on their mothers bosom.” Lamentations 2: 11-12
I know that Jesus cared for little ones, over and over he used them to* illustrate in his teachings. I know that if he were on earth today our children would have him wailing in pain. And the anger he displayed in the temple I’m sure would be displayed in the plains of Africa; Orphanages in Asia, Europe, South America and in homes across North America.
God has me wired as a protector of these little ones. Passionate that they know love, that they know the Author of love and that they are cared for in every definition of that word.
I have yet to figure out why God has wired me so. I wonder if it’s for just one child, or if it’s for thousands? If it’s for the purpose of spurring others on in the care of the children around them or if I will have the pleasure of having the slimy, gooey hands on my clothes just before dinner? Will I be a mother- or the encourager of mothers?
The talents and abilities our Father has given me baffle me. I know that they are for a purpose, and I wait anxiously to find out how they can be put to work. They mean nothing if the tools aren’t in the Master’s hand.
Sign language, writing, singing, teaching, praying, children, crafting, painting, loving, prophesying, administration, computers, smarts, all of these are dung unless the Master is using them.
Although my heart is SCREAMING to be used in a way other than answering phones, I AM going to wait patiently and all the while learning to be content- where I’m at- so that God can be glorified even now.
The Father knows how and why he wired me like he did… I’m just waiting to find out myself.
*Matt. 18:1-6, 19:13-15, etc.
M. Ruth Smith
Spring 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Wedding Bells- Matthew & Ashley
I hear wedding bells in the distance... sounding a great clanging in the air. Ring, ring, ring... the air is thick with celebration, hearts uniting as one, families once living separate lives are now joined together. Worlds collide with one another as this man takes this woman to be his wife.
Love is what He created, our heavenly Father, between these two characters who have lived their own lives til now. The stories of their walk bringing them to this place where they will take their bow. United in one factor- Their Father walking them here.
She started out innocent and sweet, he a true boy chasing after the next adventure scene. Dating and working, living and searching, until that fateful day when they meet. He knew right away, this was the girl for him. She thought he was on something wanting anything but him. Now today they stand before us, lining that stage with a great big chorus. People standing there supporting them, all because he knew she was the girl for him.
I've seen love in its various forms, like, dislike, family and all. I've seen romance and desire and lust on call. I've seen breakups and heartaches and learned lessons galore, that hope springs eternal in romance...it never wavers in its fiction. But love- true love, defined as agape, brings life and faith and trust that springs eternal forevermore.
I Corinthians 13 tells us what love is and what it isn't... and every wedding day it is read to us. If only we had it shown to us every day and every night from when we were an infant. This isn't a reading or a passage to ignore, or something at wedding which leads us to snore. This is a challenge for everyone- from married in days of old to single with life to unfold.
We are here to celebrate with these two precious people. We love them, are thrilled for them, wish them all the greatest. But my heart wants to remind them again. Romance is fabulous to spark anew, but love defined as agape is real and true.
Challenge each other, learn and grow closer still. Find the things you love and love the things you don't. Be faithful and true, show the goofy side too. For this isn't a test, a trial run or a quiz. You are hers and she is yours. Two becoming one flesh from this day forth.
Love is what He created, our heavenly Father, between these two characters who have lived their own lives til now. The stories of their walk bringing them to this place where they will take their bow. United in one factor- Their Father walking them here.
She started out innocent and sweet, he a true boy chasing after the next adventure scene. Dating and working, living and searching, until that fateful day when they meet. He knew right away, this was the girl for him. She thought he was on something wanting anything but him. Now today they stand before us, lining that stage with a great big chorus. People standing there supporting them, all because he knew she was the girl for him.
I've seen love in its various forms, like, dislike, family and all. I've seen romance and desire and lust on call. I've seen breakups and heartaches and learned lessons galore, that hope springs eternal in romance...it never wavers in its fiction. But love- true love, defined as agape, brings life and faith and trust that springs eternal forevermore.
I Corinthians 13 tells us what love is and what it isn't... and every wedding day it is read to us. If only we had it shown to us every day and every night from when we were an infant. This isn't a reading or a passage to ignore, or something at wedding which leads us to snore. This is a challenge for everyone- from married in days of old to single with life to unfold.
We are here to celebrate with these two precious people. We love them, are thrilled for them, wish them all the greatest. But my heart wants to remind them again. Romance is fabulous to spark anew, but love defined as agape is real and true.
Challenge each other, learn and grow closer still. Find the things you love and love the things you don't. Be faithful and true, show the goofy side too. For this isn't a test, a trial run or a quiz. You are hers and she is yours. Two becoming one flesh from this day forth.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Today
Today... All my life I've looked forward to tomorrow... because that is always better. And now tomorrow is today. Where does that leave me?
Today is a day worth living
yet I'm not sure what to live for
I'm tired and overwhelmed by everything
and yet i'm constantly ever bored.
I pray and wonder what the Lord wants from me and yet can't help wondering if maybe I'm just to make a decision or three.
Who am i that i can just dictate how things flow
and yet, who am I not to.
God doesn't make limp dishrags caught up in confusion,
Yet he asks us to be wrapped up in his provision. Not to take ourselves too seriously
or even to live piously.
Today is a day worth living
and yet I sit here wondering about tomorrow...
is wasting away a day on thinking
really living a life, or filling it with sorrow?
Today is today... right now, the present
and I live my life in the past and in the morrow...
I promised myself that I would not live in "what if"
and yet i live on dreams and wishes.
If today is right now and present
what am i doing?
Today is a day worth living
a time to fulfill and a time to redeem.
Yesterday is gone and it's not coming back
and tomorrow is not promised nor is it pristine.
I'm here in the now, now what do I lack?
I lack direction, discipline, hope and joy
I lack wonder and direction to employ.
Once I was full of all these things
I wonder whatever happened to me...
Today is a day worth living
so what am I waiting for?
I'm waiting for hope and desire,
direction and waiting lines to expire.
I'm wanting all the questions answered
and all the i's dotted and t's crossed.
so who's filling out the map
who's my navigator?
Is it my wandering heart
or the master of my heart?
Where do I find the things I lack?
How do I get my today back?
Today is a day worth living
How does that look for me?
Do I stop asking questions
and act like a bull in a china shop
making one move after another
without one question or one stop?
How do you define living for today?
No thought of tomorrow or yesterday?
Or do you define living where you are at
until the day when you can get where you are going?
Maybe it's all the above, a story with a hat
never ending, always changing with the wind that's flowing?
Or maybe it's being aware of where you are and never forgetting to be who you are?
Today is a day worth living
I may not know the answers to life's questions
or be smart with quiet intuitions
but I know that the One who holds my hand
holds my future in His hand.
I may not be the greatest poet...
or the one with the most love to show it.
But the question of where to go how to live,
where to be, are all answered when I hold His hand.
Living today is about "just be"
in His presence is where to go.
I believe that today is a day worth living
but I believe that it is His presence
that makes the present worth asking questions
and flowing with the flow.
April 2008
Today is a day worth living
yet I'm not sure what to live for
I'm tired and overwhelmed by everything
and yet i'm constantly ever bored.
I pray and wonder what the Lord wants from me and yet can't help wondering if maybe I'm just to make a decision or three.
Who am i that i can just dictate how things flow
and yet, who am I not to.
God doesn't make limp dishrags caught up in confusion,
Yet he asks us to be wrapped up in his provision. Not to take ourselves too seriously
or even to live piously.
Today is a day worth living
and yet I sit here wondering about tomorrow...
is wasting away a day on thinking
really living a life, or filling it with sorrow?
Today is today... right now, the present
and I live my life in the past and in the morrow...
I promised myself that I would not live in "what if"
and yet i live on dreams and wishes.
If today is right now and present
what am i doing?
Today is a day worth living
a time to fulfill and a time to redeem.
Yesterday is gone and it's not coming back
and tomorrow is not promised nor is it pristine.
I'm here in the now, now what do I lack?
I lack direction, discipline, hope and joy
I lack wonder and direction to employ.
Once I was full of all these things
I wonder whatever happened to me...
Today is a day worth living
so what am I waiting for?
I'm waiting for hope and desire,
direction and waiting lines to expire.
I'm wanting all the questions answered
and all the i's dotted and t's crossed.
so who's filling out the map
who's my navigator?
Is it my wandering heart
or the master of my heart?
Where do I find the things I lack?
How do I get my today back?
Today is a day worth living
How does that look for me?
Do I stop asking questions
and act like a bull in a china shop
making one move after another
without one question or one stop?
How do you define living for today?
No thought of tomorrow or yesterday?
Or do you define living where you are at
until the day when you can get where you are going?
Maybe it's all the above, a story with a hat
never ending, always changing with the wind that's flowing?
Or maybe it's being aware of where you are and never forgetting to be who you are?
Today is a day worth living
I may not know the answers to life's questions
or be smart with quiet intuitions
but I know that the One who holds my hand
holds my future in His hand.
I may not be the greatest poet...
or the one with the most love to show it.
But the question of where to go how to live,
where to be, are all answered when I hold His hand.
Living today is about "just be"
in His presence is where to go.
I believe that today is a day worth living
but I believe that it is His presence
that makes the present worth asking questions
and flowing with the flow.
April 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Pain
It’s hard sometimes to know things. To know that someone you love is in trouble. To know that where you are - is still not close enough to help them. It’s hard to know when to say something, when to shut up, when to pray and what to pray. It’s hard to be right there when things are discovered… almost wishing that they had remained covered.How is it Lord that these things are so painful? Why does pain have to show up all the time? Why can’t things just be found without pain? At least to the observer?
I see pain almost everyday, in everyway… it comes as a knife to the heart in everyone’s life. Through the loss of a child, the use of illegal substances, the abuse of loved ones, there are so many ways pain enters in.
Pain defined by good ol’ Webster is: 1. An unpleasant sensation occurring in varying degrees of severity as a consequence of injury, disease, or emotional disorder. 2. Suffering or distress.
Pain comes in, and pain can go out- to those around us. Pain makes us flinch, groan, sigh, sob and run. Yes, run. We have choices when it comes to pain. We can allow it to overcome us in our distress, to make us cave in to the hard choices, or to make us surrender because fighting seems too hard. Or, it can give us the opportunity to show what we are made of, to give us the chance to change in ways that we have always wanted.
Growth comes with pain… you know that is why they call them growing pains, but it doesn’t just happen with the physical body, it also happens with the spiritual growth. You cannot tell me that Paul, David, Peter, John and other heroes of the Bible didn’t experience lots of pain in the midst of God making them into the men that we now call heroes of the faith! Stoning, jail time, beatings, being chased by a mad man- these I believe can be called painful, yet they were the very things that make us remember them, what made them our heroes, it shaped them.
I have found that when things are the most painful, God is most at work. If I hate the circumstance and run away- it usually turns out I’m running from God. If I hate the circumstance and face it head on- that is usually where I find God the closest. Pain is a tool. I know that pain isn’t always from God’s hand, but even if it’s not- He’s still right there beside you in the midst of it.
We all know our own definition of pain, we don’t even have to think about where it comes from, how it makes us feel, what we would like to do with it. But what we all might benefit from is taking the time to decide what we are going to do about it and with the results from it. Are you going to allow it to make you grow- or are you going to cave?
I believe at the end of these thoughts of mine that time and again we are given these choices, because God only wants us to grow better and more like him everyday. I believe that he gives the enemy chances to come after us with pain to push us closer to Jesus’ side. I believe that no matter how much we cry, scream or lash out, our time here on earth is always going to have pain in it. And I believe that Jesus is ALWAYS hoping that we will choose the growth and the fighting for what’s right. I also believe that even though we have the opportunity to grow here on earth- I will keep longing for the day when we shall see His face and this world is no more… and pain will have had its last!
Written 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Beautiful
She cringed as I pulled out the camera. When I aimed it at her she cried "please don't, I'm ugly!" What brokenness, what hurt, what horrendous lies!She is beautiful. Her eyes so expressive, her smile perfect and her hair completely hiding her from the world around her. I wonder to myself... who told her these lies, who made her believe that she was/is ugly?
When I look in the mirror I see a lot of things- a fat body completely without proper form and lots of areas of imperfection - yet I also see things of beauty. Now don't think me vain, but I see that my eyes are dark and beautiful. I see that my eyelashes- even without makeup are so long that they are constantly touching my glasses... I see my high cheekbones and my really pretty smile. I even like my funky little nose... I forget though that I like these things and I see only the fat or the imperfections.... just like this young woman.
When I was younger I was told by people around me that I was ugly... and they called me ugly names too. I was told lies and I believed them. I still sometimes feel ugly, and I hate the camera as much as she does.... but that does not make those lies true! Lies are present everywhere and I know that one of the places it is most prevalent, is in the minds of our young ones. They are being taught that to be beautiful you have to be a certain shape, size, color, and make, as if we were patterns or framed art work in a museum gift shop.
I believe God when he said things like "He makes all things beautiful."(Eccl. 3:11), I believe God that "I am fearfully and wonderfully made"(Ps. 139:14), I believe God that I am "His creation"(Mark 10:6), and I believe him that I am "Made in His image"(Gen. 1:27). You want to know the reason for my ability to accept who I am and where I am in life? Because I believe the Bible is true in every last word... and if it is- then there isn't one word in there about God making ugly things. So therefore- I AM NOT UGLY and NEITHER ARE YOU!
So, tell me something... who makes the rules of beauty? Who gets to govern who is and isn't beautiful? And why do we believe them anyway? What gives them that power? If we believe the world around us, and give them power to determine how we feel about ourselves - aren't we saying in one form or another that God is lying?
Beauty defined by the dictionary is- the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else.
Beauty defined in the Word of God is- well, I can only find one definition of what beauty is in the Bible... and that is vain and deceitful (Prov. 31:30). That's right... no definition of anything other than this. So if the Bible/ God has no other words for it then why do we put such a high price on it?
I don't think that God really takes much stock in the beauty of man. If it's not God who sets the standards for beauty then who are we giving that much power to? Young women are told from childhood that beauty is what the world says... thin and perfect, without blemish or fault. For girls it would be a size 2 or less body, no matter how tall or how you are built. And a person without these features and not perfect are not beautiful. What's worse is we aren't just teaching the women these things but we are also teaching the young men too!
When are we (society) going to teach them that perfection is not reality, that God makes man, but man makes their own version of perfection. In other words... FAKE! What happened to teaching them about how God lovingly formed them in their mother's womb. (Ps. 139) Or how he counts the hairs on our head(Matt. 10:30), or how he collects the tears that you cry (Ps. 56:8) all because he lovingly created you and loves you!
God doesn't make fake, he doesn't make ugly and he certainly doesn't make mistakes. He is perfect in every form... the only true and perfect thing in the universe. The world since Adam and Eve is not perfect (Rom. 5:18-20)... and man is anything but perfect. So why is there such a high price on illusion?
I believe with all my heart that women today, and I don't mean just the young ones, need to be told and retold the TRUTH! I know that the society of the world (Fashion magazines, models, movies, TV, etc) has told us that perfection is an achievement. Well, not one person has gotten there yet- and they won't until the return of our Jesus. Truth is - if you want perfection, you have to pay for it... and even then you will find something else you don't like.
I told that young one that night that there are always things that you like about yourself. So go stand in front of a mirror... and find 3 things that you like about yourself. Learn to love the unchangeable (without drastic measures) and for those things that you don't like that are changeable- change them. (like weight) Our God created you that way on PURPOSE, for a PURPOSE (Jer. 29:11) and He loves what He has created(Jer.31:3). So do I.
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