Friday, March 29, 2013

Five Minute Friday :: Broken


Go ::

And it’s a broken hallelujah

that this world cries

I continue to breathe shallow & frail and hope, hope for a better world.

For a world where that brokenness increasingly finds an answer

In the hope of the light of the world.

It’s overwhelming how the darkness consumes over this rounded sphere

and I am always brought to the darkness of the hour when the Father turned his face.

And broke the soul of the Son, severing the eternal bond as justice

gave the stroke called upon this whole broken and feeble world.

And on those shoulders broken by sin, those bones that didn’t need to break

but the body that did

was the heaving wail of humanity helpless to find a way

to be whole again

but for what only Perfection could do.

And I look at all that can be so hard to face when the broken lives

touch my own

And I look at what my kids may face in a world of increasingly pronounced

fissures and I remember

the broken bread that we shared in our own

simple way last night.

The lights of understanding dawning brighter on their little, tender faces

and oh how we pray reaching to their heart. their soul.

The tears that slipped these eyes reading from this book

about Golgotha, the Golgota as translated in but this lonely way in the

language of this new home.

As I held the daughter of my heart tight and felt her still

and looked at the mirrored tears of a son who so very much

wants to draw close to us, to God.  The bent knees on stair

tops that thank Jesus for His death, for what he’s done

for what their little hearts can yet see about the shattered

selves they cannot fix without the shattered heart of God

coming in and covering and

in the darkness bearing a hope that

will surely shine again and heal and clean and

make whole…

Till the whole world hears and may the generation we raise live to see the day and stop at nothing to make it so…

Please watch & share this…Falling Plates Video

Missional Women Article :: My Heat Can’t Take it…But it Has to {Part 1}


faith filled friday


Friday, March 22, 2013

Five Minute Friday :: Remember

Go ::

At times they come in waves, these remembrances of days gone by…

Some times I remember a smell and I am transported…

Like the clean, upholstered furniture smell of my grandparents’ house


the earthyWinking smile smell of cow manure

or the baking smell of homemade italian or chocolate chip cookie.

Other times it’s the way the sun filters through the window

and I am taken to the places most dear

the houses, often run-down & in need of repairs, that my

mother with blood, sweat and tears made into home.

Other times it is the look of a flower that reminds me of the

gardening I wish that I had taken more of her cues for

Like the geraniums that survived each winter or the house plants

that never went un-watered…

Some times too it is the glistening of the Christmas lights or the

little knick knack with its own private meaning

Or the smell of freshly dried sheets on the line

Or the folding of towels just so

Or the scrubbing of counter corners  or

the special night for spaghetti dinners with milk

Or even the frustrated voice that can make sensitive kids cry…

In more ways than I ever think is possible the day in and day out speaks through

the caverns of time and in it I live to keep on keepin’ on another day…



Tuesday, March 12, 2013

in this hope I am saved

Samuka getting bigger, etc 185The winter is thawing and I have begun walking again.  And I think of the walks or runs of my life.  The places lived and the reasons {I thought} that I was ‘there’. 
And it is no different here.  Being the visionary type, when the reality of the day-to-day settles in, it’s a fight to keep dreaming.  And I am plagued with thoughts of all I ought to be doing to bring about those dreams I lived in before this new home became a reality.
I fall so easily into self-loathing when I realize that I have lived far short of what I hoped.  I knew it wouldn’t be easy to make a new home in a new country.  But did I really understand how hard it would be?
I’ve been searching for that truth that I can fix my eyes upon that will anchor my heart.  To keep walking and trusting and knowing the peace of God.
Yet as I walk here, I am overwhelmed by the needs, the broken & hurting who live just beyond the walls of the tall apartment buildings that define the neighborhood in which we live.  And I don’t think I have ever felt so small.  What can I in my plaguing insecurities and my oh-so-frail possibly do to touch the pain here?
But it’s a dry & destitute wasteland where my vision is filled with my own failings.  When all I see is the oh-so-weak me who is a sorry excuse for a missionary.
Everything born of the Spirit within me KNOWS that this is no place for my eyes to rest.  There is no glorifying of the God I love who chooses to use the weak of this world, namely me, when all I can see is this frail shell that my own righteousness hollows out.
So I’ve been restless and asking for that manna I need so that I can walk in the Spirit in this new life.  And I received a goodly portion yesterday looking down the hill upon this community, this city.
Like a holy whisper to hush my restless soul He reminds me that He did not bring me here primarily to use me.  He’s brought me on this journey to perfect me; to bring me closer to Home. to Him. to His heart. Yet, I view myself through that humbling lens of falling short of my own lofty expectations or even those I perceive others have of me,Samuka getting bigger, etc 187 seeking somehow to conjure the strength to do better.  To be closer to what I think a missionary, a mom, a wife, a Christ-follower ‘should’ be…and I’ve got it all wrong.
All this does is spin me silly and sick in that vicious cycle where I’m striving and failing and angry and sad that I am…failing.  What a pained and chained and JOY-killing thing this is.
When His promises speak of that ‘perfect peace’ as my mind rests on Him.  And the casting out of all fear by His perfect love.  And that I am to be defined by hope, for in it, I have been saved.
So I’m asking for the grace, the heart, to receive the wild, pursuing love of a God who continually amazes with His relentless ways.  To rest in His stopping-at-nothing work in me.  And to be filled in beholding Him; trusting that He will do more in this than I could ever ask for or imagine.
playdateswithGod - Copy

Friday, March 8, 2013

Five Minute Friday :: Home

more beauty...clouds&sunsets 005

Go ::

And it’s here in the place and the days when so much of what has been shifting has finally settled…

There is a physical home to call our own.

There is a routine that does not involve inter-continental travel for over a year.

There is the warmth of things unpacked and in the places that they have seemed to fit, to shape this new life.

And yet the Home that warmed and surrounded my heart must be the one that still epitomizes this word.

I feel all of the trappings of wanting the comfort of the stationery.  And it is good…the security of home which is especially important to the little ones.  A solace.  A place of safety and love. A Home that warms the hearts of our hearts and makes a place for Him in its very white hot center.

But, yet that Home, it calls to me. the one who is having a hard time remembering the things clung to when there was no physical home.

I remember the yearning and searching and seeking of His love to be the deepest constant and the anchor.  And I remember the very real knowledge that this earth is not meant to be permanent and all of the longing stirred when comforts and lives loved are surrendered to remember what lasts forever.

And I don’t want to forget that Home that captivates and propels further, deeper into His heart and most importantly that gives the grace and freedom to fly into the constant unknown saying yes to Him in the risks and dangers of new things.

I weave these thoughts tight and deep and ask that ever seeing & searching Spirit that abides in me to make it a beautiful prayer for which my life will be the answer.


faith filled friday


Friday, March 1, 2013

Five Minute Friday :: Ordinary

Go ::

And the sun is shining and there’s a spring in this winter lethargic step as I take the freshly washed sheets & duvet out to the patio to dry.

And I can’t put away this excitement.  It’s going deep to the nerve endings and flows through my body.

Winter is drawing its last breath though there be a frigid one or two left to endure.  And the sun is finding its way through months of gray and my sheets, my bed, my life will once again taste of that fresh air.

And as the sweet smell tickles my nose, the ordinary takes on a redemptive tone. 

I cannot imagine the sweetness of that first outdoor drying being so bold and far-reaching if there hadn’t been its absence through the cold and drear that is the season of winter called to endure.

There are things that steal our hearts when their sun dampens and we must simply endure with one foot in front of the other, trusting that there will be a new day where the sun will shine again and we will find our joy again…

There is the promise in a smell that harkens to the One who ever promises to make ALL THINGS new and who promises to steal the ordinary with the magic light of eternity.

And how can our hearts not perk at the thought, the wonder, of the amazing reality unfolding one sunny day at a time?  And how can we not help but long and pray and hope for more?


faith filled friday


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