O, You lead me to waters

Your heart,
headwaters
of mercy.

Source, unseeable,
unsearchable depth.
Breadth.

This origin of love, generating living waters.

Overflow, cascade, oceans.

Amongst-for-within, and without,
Covering.

Inspired by Sunday's Sermon (John 7:53-8:11).

Learning & re-programming

I’m learning right now that there isn’t a right answer for some things. (Particularly related to monitoring and evaluation tasks within project management.) There are better and worse ways, but, generally, not black and white “right or wrong” ways. Really? You mean, I just have to do it? And probably mess up? Because there isn’t a formula, or written procedure? Srsly? Yup.

And I’m being reminded that adults don’t have the answers. I am an adult now, and have been legally for 8 years. But there was still some college age “expectations” I could slide by under. Graduate school has raised the bar—you can’t get away with the same stuff (like not reading your assigned readings) by just wearing the college student label. Now I’m watching my dear friends get married, have children, and have more children. And they are still just like me- they haven’t magically received this adult instruction manual, or better yet, a lightning-bolt-word from God (At least that I know of!)

It’s just so different than I thought things were when I was a kid. I am the first-born, the rule-follower, the over-achiever, the do-it-right booooo-ya girl. And I’m finding that this doesn’t matter that much? That these constructs I’ve lived by are obsolete?

[CTRL+ALT+DEL]=Re-programming.

These two realizations are kind of complimentary paradigm shifts. Tectonic plates are breaking and re-connecting synapses in my brain. Pretty wacky. Pretty wonderful. So I’m sharing my mind-blowing process, as I try to gather up the pieces again. Has your mind been blown by something? Have you had to re-program? I’d love to hear about it.

V. Day

A Valentine
When I said I surrender all
I didn't know what 'all' meant
it meant what I knew then,
not what I know now,
not what I will know.
But it was earnest,
even while being nascent,
and I mean it again, today.
Right now.
I mean to surrender
this heart in love to You, my lover.
Your love crossed me,
Found me,
Your Love calls me,
Washes me,
and will not forsake me.
Past and Present and to come,
You are.
So take this heart in surrender,
in this moment and forever tether,
Sweet Savior, Precious Treasure!
Awed, in Love, wed to my Valentine
Shepherd, friend and King,
ever by my side.
Ever mine.

Never, never.

What sin, that lurks in each of us,
far grosser,
far deeper,
far more perverse.
So long, to keep hidden,
To keep hidden,
In darkness.

Even those who are forgiven,
temptation bitten
struggling, strangling,
the cords of lust.

I can't bear this weight
I can't calm the gate
The flood of the reprobates
And Their vile complaints
Now that the light has shown,
revealed the hidden state,
Oh will you still me forsake?

Never, never.
Tied to an unbreakable tether.
To a Wretch as I,
An amazing grace did fly,
Toward the neediest,
dirtiest child,
to me, to me.

Abba, such destruction and heartbreak we bring on ourselves and others. Please draw near to his family now, in unspeakable shame and sorrow, and comfort them with your peace.

John 14:27
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

From Lost to Love

Oh for,

The love,

The love of, oh for

Oh for, the love of

The love of God

The love of God

The love of God.

I fail, I fall, crippled heart, beats too small

Not large enough, to carry this

Grief and burden,

Father, brother,

Entire city

Lost.

Cycles of

Worship, yes, hope in being washed by holy rivers, in ascending mountains, in ringing gongs, in visiting shrines,

all for a good work, to keep the law ardently.

Yet I see nothing but that

I am a good law-breaker

I am a terrible seeker,

A Truth wrecker

Critic and side-stepper.

Fresh and salt-water, flowing out of this mouth.

White-washed tomb, hypocrite who spouts.

Oh, forgive,

Oh forgive,

Me.

I turn, repent, only to do it again. I turn, repent, and repent again.

And there is forgiveness. And there is hope.

At greatest price, Jesus Christ made a way.

Blood money- He paid.

My debt, he paid.

Thank you.

Life and all, I owe, joyfully, and lovingly.

It is well, with my soul.

Conscience cleared,

burden borne,

debt paid, stains washed.

It is well!

[Inspired by seeing my own faults, seeking hope and forgiveness, and the Vimeo linked to the blog's title. Highly recommended.]

New Heritage

I've been copying stanzas from Psalm 119 in my morning Bible Meditation time.

This morning I was struck by verse 111,
"Your testimonies are my heritage forever,
for they are the joy of my heart."

Thinking on the new year upon us, and the joys and sorrows past and to come, this hit a chord.

I love the idea of heritage- my national heritage, my ethnic heritage, and my spiritual heritage. A few years back I was counseled by a family friend about heritage- and how I can have a part in building a new spiritual heritage. It was hopeful to me because I saw him doing THAT for his family! He didn't grow up with that heritage, but that didn't mean he was stuck. He built a new foundation it for his kids.

So it makes me wonder, what will I do in the New Year to build up a godly heritage? I want to create traditions and habits in my life that show others and REMIND ME about God's testimonies. It is also striking that heritage is linked to what is the joy of a person's heart. Will it be money or success or ...., or will it be the joy of the promises and gospel of Jesus Christ?

Oh, Lord, Make this verse more true of me in the New Year!

And make the words of this song true, too! These words are rich.
Enjoy a New Years listening treat :)

Hear O Israel & Come People of the Risen King

Keith & Kristyn Getty & Stuart Townend

Hear O Israel, the people of the Lord,

Be still and know that He is God

Love the Lord your God with the fullness of your heart

With all your mind, your strength and soul

We draw near through Christ who saves us

We draw near to the throne of Grace

Hear O Israel, the people of the Lord

Come lift your voice and praise your King

Come, people of the Risen King,

Who delight to bring Him praise;

COME PEOPLE OF THE RISEN KING,
Who delight to bring Him praise;
Come all and tune your hearts to sing
To the Morning Star of grace.
From the shifting shadows of the earth
We will lift our eyes to Him,
Where steady arms of mercy reach
To gather children in.

Rejoice, Rejoice! Let every tongue rejoice!
One heart, one voice; O Church of Christ, rejoice!

Come, those whose joy is morning sun,
And those weeping through the night;
Come, those who tell of battles won,
And those struggling in the fight.
For His perfect love will never change,
And His mercies never cease,
But follow us through all our days
With the certain hope of peace.

Come, young and old from every land -
Men and women of the faith;
Come, those with full or empty hands -
Find the riches of His grace.
Over all the world, His people sing -
Shore to shore we hear them call
The Truth that cries through every age:
“Our God is all in all”!

December Coverings

Covered by the weight
of frozen molecules of hydrogen and oxygen
billions of them, born above my head
released from storehouses,
freed to flow and fumble
Cover the land, dance
onto our path and fraught feet,
crunching beneath.

Covered by the weight
of heavy heart in desperate state
so much left to do, and what's
left undone stares and
presses harder,
until it seems as if reality
is a memory
and all that's left
is hollow panic and forgetfulness.

Covered by the weight
of unfulfilled desires and cries to wait
patiently, keep steady
fastening your grip
to a Rock that will not slip.

Let go of lust that you sling, like a gun on the hip
Fired off, the bullet wounding
so that crimson spots on white snow cluing
me in on a repetitious act,
oh fond rebellion!
Back again I am.
Stuck. Vile. Far.
Until-
Repentance dovetails and swells
and I'm a heap, in rags undone.

Holiness has raised its' fist,
I'm following the beacon home!
Home to the King with Kingdom Throne
To the Lord of skin and bone
To the Weaver of this tale
To my Maker, never frail.

And though I'm frail and frightened; lost
He split his Blood at highest cost.
Dwelling here all weights seem small;
the burden is easy, the yoke is full.
Abiding here, never to leave!
Beauty, fullness, rest in belief
and faith in nail-pierced hands
that free me from self-imposed tyranny
that free me from the enemy's cruelty
that free me from the world's frivolity.
so that I am

Covered by the weight
of love instead.

Thanks for sharing 'Winter Song' by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson via FB go to a friend of a friend of a friend in Pittsburg :) It is unspeakably beautiful and part of the inspiration for this poem- enjoy.