tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71341163887193753382024-03-18T05:48:01.217-04:00Jewelz SightingsJuliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.comBlogger164125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-51012418729403790272011-08-13T14:34:00.004-04:002011-08-13T15:01:41.895-04:00To My New Subscribers<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Hello to the my new subscribers, first let me thank you for coming here and joining me. I am grateful to have you along on my journey. Second, I wanted to let you know that I recently felt led to start afresh on a new blog. I spend most of my time there writing these days. I hope you will join me as my journey continues on at: <a href="http://mylongandwindingroad.wordpress.com">"My Long And Winding Road"</a> </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">If you'd like to subscribe at the new blog you can find the link on the home page,(right hand side) where you will enter your email address. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">Once you enter your email address you will find a confirmation email sent to your inbox. Click on the link provided in that email to confirm you subscription and you will be all set. Every time I put up a new post you will receive an email with the post in it.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">Thank you again for being here.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Here's a taste of my most recent post at the new blog:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Tempered By Love ©</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-weight: 300; line-height: 24px; "><p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.625em; margin-left: 0px; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; ">The personality profile test the church used was supposed to help me understand myself. Everyone seemed to buy into it. I was told it was helpful in knowing how to work in relationships in ministry together. I bought into it too. I wanted to know who I was. I wanted to understand the lingo everyone was using. Little did I know that it would end up being something used to shut me down.</p><p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.625em; margin-left: 0px; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; ">I attended the seminars where the pastor presented the information. I received my label. “D”, Direct, Decisive, High Ego Strength, Problem Solver, Risk Taker, Self Starter. As he described the weaknesses of my new-found diagnosis I felt the shame wash over me. Really, is this who I am? It didn’t look good for a southern woman in the church. I didn’t want to be her. I wanted to be someone else. I didn’t want to anyone to know.</p><p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.625em; margin-left: 0px; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; ">I will never forget the Sunday I was asked by one woman in particular about my profile. As I spoke I heard the groan escape her lips, confirming what I had come to believe. No one wants to have a personality like mine. </p><p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.625em; margin-left: 0px; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; "> *You can finish this post <a href="http://mylongandwindingroad.wordpress.com">here:</a></p></span></span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com73tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-35134244681519072762011-08-01T13:22:00.002-04:002011-08-01T13:26:27.138-04:00"Dead Man's Float"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;">I am loving my new blog at Wordpress. If you want to check out my latest post, here's an exerpt: </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-weight: 300; line-height: 24px; "><p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.625em; margin-left: 0px; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; ">Sometimes it feels like the blind leading the blind here. This is the first time we’ve embarked on territory like this. Brennan Manning said it well. “The reality of naked trust is the life of a pilgrim who leaves what is nailed down, obvious and secure, and walks into the unknown without any rational explanation to justify the decision or guarantee the future.”</p><p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.625em; margin-left: 0px; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; ">That pretty much sums up the road we find ourselves on. In 11 days it will be 5 months since David lost his job. It was not something we chose, it was what we were given. Once we got over the initial shock we began to ask God, “what now”.. We agreed that it was time to do something different. It was time to not allow the bills to dictate the job. It was time to walk a more narrow path than we’ve known, stepping out into the unknown, trusting God with the results.</p><p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.625em; margin-left: 0px; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; ">There is no rational explanation to justify the decision we’ve made, nor is there a guarantee of our future. We walk by faith, not by sight, for honestly there’s not much to see right now. Applications and resumes are out there. No one’s biting. Crickets are chirping getting louder with every day that passes, yet we wait, we choose trust. What else is there after all?</p><p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.625em; margin-left: 0px; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; ">If I were being honest I would have to say that it would be easier to handle things the way we were accustomed to using a lot of striving and self effort. It feels much harder walking by faith, trusting the Spirit inside to guide us into what needs to be done, believing we are hearing well, and following rightly.</p><p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.625em; margin-left: 0px; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; ">To continue reading, click<a href="http://mylongandwindingroad.wordpress.com/"> here</a></p><div style="color: rgb(187, 187, 187); "><br /></div></span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-31708029585389853222011-07-13T16:10:00.003-04:002011-07-13T16:33:37.666-04:00Changes, a new home....<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Dear friends,</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> After much prayer and consideration I've decided to start afresh in a new blog home. I've posted my first post in my new home. I'd love for you to join me there. If you are a subscriber to my blog, look for an email from me in your inbox. The new blog address is: <a href="http://mylongandwindingroad.wordpress.com/">My Long and Winding Road:</a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> Some of you have been with me for a long time here. If you would like to continue to follow me and my writing you will find a link where you can subscribe. You will receive emails every time I put up a new post. It is on the right hand side of the new blog. Once you put in your email address you will receive a confirmation email. You will need to respond by clicking on the confirmation link to validate your subscription. If you do not confirm, you will not be subscribed.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> I have not activated the blog on Facebook yet. I'm still praying about that one. So if you are a Facebook fan I'd encourage you to sign up under the email subscription until I determine what to do about Facebook. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> Thank you all for being with me here. It has been a gift to my heart. Here is an exerpt from my first post in my new home...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> <i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The Doors Are Open, please come in....</span></b></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> I was counting it out today. I’ve moved 7 times since I married 28 years ago. Every single time there was something better that waited. We always knew when it was time to pack it all up and leave. Things closed down around us as a stirring made it’s way in, inviting us to leave the familiar to experience something new. Whether a new town, fenced yard or more living space it was always worth pulling up the stakes. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> The hardest relocation for us all was moving to a new town. Everything familiar we had known was left behind. Not only did we leave a house full of wonderful memories, we left relationships with good friends. What would happen to the bonds we had formed? It’s always in the back of your mind when you step out into fresh territory. Will the connections stay through life’s horizons? </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#990000;"><b>To continue reading, click.</b></span>.... <a href="http://mylongandwindingroad.wordpress.com/2011/07/13/the-doors-are-open-please-come-in/">The doors Are Open, please come in....</a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> I hope to see you there. I've loved having you here!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> Thank you!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-19402908624659550912011-07-03T18:45:00.008-04:002011-07-13T10:12:42.144-04:00Stuck<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I've been stuck lately. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I feel the words inside my mind. I want to write, I need to write, yet I am stuck. My brain is constipated with words jammed inside unable to move or be moved. The question plagues my mind; what do I write about?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I've been in a wilderness of sorts these last 4 years. Sequestered by God, I've been given time alone unlike any other time in my life. I've wrestled until I nestled. I've found my way into discoveries about who I am and who God is. I feel the piles of words stacked up in my brain yet I feel like a deer immobilized by head lights.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It reminds me of our backyard at a house we once rented. The owners had moved of town, therefore the yard had not been tended well. One glance out the back door would send my husband's mind to a place of overwhelm. Accumulation of overgrowth was everywhere. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Where does one begin? I</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">t was enough to send him away from the piles to some quiet place of retreat. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's what happens to me these days when I draw away to write.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Having been a self-effort performer who is learning to live in dependence sometimes it gets tricky stepping out. You tend to second guess your every move. Is this me or is this God? Sometimes the fear of stepping out on my own efforts restrains me from making a step at all. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Little did I know 4 years ago when I started this little blog that I would be blessed with so many dear people who have come to follow along. Beautiful responses from dear hearts encourage me that words written are touching a place in them, sometimes awakening them to things they'd never considered. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I feel the weight of this sacred place of my heart written down. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">What if I step out and do this thing on my own? </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">What if I let people down? Do people really want to hear about my day in and day out struggles? What if I don't have anything profound to say? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Something has gotten distorted in the union of this gift of writing that I love. I find my mind lodged, unable to move forward, yet longing for the exhilaration of words written down. I need to be rescued from this dark, cold shaft.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Years ago there was a little girl named Jessica McClure who became entrapped in an abandoned well shaft. She was playing in the yard of her day care center when suddenly her little 18 month old body fell and became lodged. It took rescue workers 58 hours to pull her out of that shaft. I remember sitting by the television watching as they brought her up to her release. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Tears of celebration of a life saved filled the faces of those who had been diligently working to set her free.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It is for freedom that Christ has set me free. I don't want to be stuck anymore.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So dear friends who have blessed me with your presence, I am asking God to free me from the shaft that has held me captive. I am asking Him to set me free to write whenever and whatever crosses my heart knowing that I cannot leave Him behind, for He lives in </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">me</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. I leave the weight of responsibility of all this on His shoulders. May He bless you with His heart in me as my life is lived before you.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I am considering starting afresh with a new blog. I'm not sure yet what God is saying about all that, but I am asking. If He says yes, I will let you all know where to find me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I would be grateful for your prayers.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">With gratitude....</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Julie</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-64286050412842103142011-06-10T14:33:00.011-04:002011-06-12T19:07:33.901-04:00What's Love Got to Do With It? ©<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">The year was 2005. I'd been asking God to awaken me to my true identity. I wanted so desperately to know who He saw me to be. I knew the things I believed about myself. I truly hoped that He didn't see me that way too. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">I frequently asked Him for pictures that would reveal His heart to me. On this particular day I asked again. Suddenly a vision flashed into my mind.</span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">I saw a woman dressed in a beautiful free flowing skirt. She was in the parking lot outside the church we were attending. I couldn't see her face. I didn't know who she was. With arms raised she twirled around in dance. There was freedom and beauty in the way she moved. She didn't care who saw her. She only cared about the One who watched. As the vision left I began to ask God what it all meant. Who is that? </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i>"It's you!" </i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">What is that?<i> "It's the dance of freedom." </i>How do I get there, God? <i>"I will take you there." "It is for freedom that I came."</i> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I remember a piece of furniture my mother restored. Layers of paint hid it's raw beauty. It wasn't a quick or easy process. One coat of paint was stripped away at a time. I remember the steel wool, the sharp tools, the strong smelling solvent. Underneath the years of history the beautiful, original wood found it's way out. Sandpaper was used to smooth off any remaining rough edges. Afterwards stain was rubbed in bringing the piece to life. The grand finale was the top coat applied protecting the work that had just been completed.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I am like that piece of furniture. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">For God so loved me He sent Jesus to restore me back to my true identity. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">Layers of lies brought on by my own sins and the sins done against me are being stripped away. Their coatings of shame cover me no more. Religious mandates are falling by the wayside, no longer holding me captive. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">He is peeling away the layers allowing me to receive what's been there all along. Love... just love. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">The finished work of Christ now sets me free. The beauty of the original is making it's way out.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "> I am free to live as one who is loved because I am.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">No longer is there need to dance the exhausting dance to be acceptable. I no longer have to strive to <b><i>be</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> holy. I can believe that I </span><i>am</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">. He will never use the words, "after all I've done for you, what will you do for Me?" </span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">The lists are over, the plates can stop spinning. </span></b></span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> It's not about getting everything right or being enough. It is no longer imperative that I keep watch on my behavior for it does not prove my godliness. I now see </span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">His arm wrapped around me as we look at my sin together. It's not about the sin. It's about living in who I am. </span></b></span></b></span></div></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">He's known me for a lifetime. All that was has been removed. He sees me free from the layers, dancing in liberation. He invites me to see that too. Embracing love freely given brings me to an abandon unlike I've ever known. I am free to be just as I am knowing He will show me who He knows me to be. To the extent I trust I <b><i>am</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> loved, I will </span><i>be</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> loved. </span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The vision makes sense to me these days. It's breathtaking. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> I find myself dancing in the beautiful freedom of the free flowing life of Christ in me. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div></span></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">What's love got to do with it? Everything.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">©copyrighted 2011: Julie L. Todd</span></span></div></span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div></div></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-83169296896618088022011-04-22T15:07:00.006-04:002011-04-22T20:04:12.886-04:00On the Mat Again©<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A memory floods my mind today. It was June 2002. It had never happened to me before, nor has it happened to me since. I was awakened from a deep sleep with a sharp pain in my hip. I didn't think much about it. It wasn't enough to disturb my return to a solid sleep. I don't know how much time passed. Suddenly I was re-awakened with the same sharp pain. This time my mind was flooded with a story I'd heard dozens of times. Jacob wrestled with God until God dislocated Jacob's hip overcoming him. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There must be some meaning to it all, I remember thinking. After all I'm not one to wake in the middle of the night with a Bible story on my mind. I put it aside to contemplate the next day. I visited the story in the pages of Genesis and discovered something.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I wrestle with God, frequently.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Sometimes life takes over. Things look much different then I expected them to. Longings I thought would be fulfilled aren't. Doors I believed would open slam shut. Some days life feels more like a constant battlefield than a valley of life. Lost jobs, family struggles, uncertainties, dead-end relationships find their way into my everyday life. The question lurks in the corridors of my mind. Do I really believe God is good?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I find myself there frequently these days. It doesn't take much with all that's going on in my world. Walking out into my garden to assess the growth of the seeds I had planted exposed the battle this time. What could be so wrong in having the garden I desired? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was so excited to start a spring garden. It was my first time growing things like lettuce, carrots, beets, and spinach. With each seed I planted I prayed for God's bountiful blessing. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">Why is it now a month later I'm looking at empty soil? </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">Was it too much to ask?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My faith is being challenged in mammoth proportions these days. What will I believe? Does God really have something good on the other side of this job loss? It's hard to reconcile it all when little things like prayed over gardens don't grow.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I find myself back on that mat with God.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> What does it mean that you long to give us the desires of our heart? Can you explain what you meant when you said that you love to give your children good gifts? Can I have any desires fulfilled? What's real here? What's true? When I don't understand these "unexplainable" things , can I really call good what God calls good?</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's a life or death question for me at a time like this. </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I wrestled. I cried. I exposed the rants of my heart.... disappointment, fears and pain made their way up and out. The job David just lost had brought us to this little town. We had such high hopes for deep community and friendship here. Sadly, It didn't happen. I had continued to believe that somehow good was going on behind the scenes... But now, this.. Do I have to give up having a garden too? Lurking behind it all was the age old culprit with the age old question. I am afraid. Can I really trust the heart of God? Will I call good what He calls good even when it does not feel good?</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There is no other question to be answered by my soul. Would I allow the things happening around me to tell me the story of God's heart, His love, His care?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He wrestled with me until my mind could grasp my reality.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As much as I long for these desires to be fulfilled they can never prove His goodness to me. It is proven in His character, His life. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> He is unpredictable in what He does, yet consistent in who He is. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I will never be able to put my trust in what I see Him doing. My only salvation is to trust in who He is. In that moment, the power of the Spirit overcame the power of my flesh. In that vital moment a choice was made as a cry erupted from within the walls of my heart. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"I will call </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">good what He calls good, so help me God."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Though the fig tree should not blossom And there be no fruit on the vines, Though the yield of the olive should fail And the fields produce no food, Though the flock should be cut off from the fold. And there be no cattle in the stalls, Yet I will exult in the LORD, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. The Lord GOD is my </span></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">strength, And He has made my feet like hinds' feet, And makes me walk on my high places. Habakkuk 3:17-19</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted: 2011; Julie L. Todd</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-29385434929157091762011-03-27T16:28:00.001-04:002011-03-27T19:44:51.709-04:00The Lessons of a Tricycle©<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><blockquote></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was my very first tricycle. Christmas Day brought it to me. I couldn't wait to get on it and ride; so I did, all throughout the house. I've been told that I was unstoppable. I was determined to ride it no matter what obstacles lay in my path. I would start out, hit a piece of furniture, back up, turn around and push forward. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was a clear revealer of the spirit inside the young child. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I've been known to set my face like a flint when going after the things I wanted. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In my quest toward the goal, giving up was not an option. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The words of my mother to this day still ring in my ears, "If you get your will going in the right direction, everything will be all right." I didn't really know what it meant then. I am beginning to now.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I remember early on in my years of parenting being given the advice, "you have to break the will of the child." I look back now and see the absurdity of those words. You cannot break the will of a child, it has to be given up. It cannot be forced. It must be chosen.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Life often feels as if it asks more than it gives. Difficult days find their way into our lives. Aren't I supposed to set my face like a flint to keep walking? Aren't I supposed to persevere? Yes, but somehow, somewhere in the mix of it all something can get so cunningly twisted. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's a subtle thing you know. I had been told to hang tough, keep at it, fight the good fight. Life often requires that to some degree. But what about God? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">How does all this balance out? </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Christ is the hope within me. He is the lifeline extended to me every single day. Where do my self-willed efforts hinder His?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's so easy to find myself much like that young girl on her tricycle. Push forward, hit the obstacles, turn around, and keep going. I find myself now questioning where does that leave me to look for the strength of the One who is my strength? </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Whose strength does that leave me enduring in, really? Where is it me instead of Him?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In some hidden, subtle way it's easy to find myself living in the old way of the self-willed life. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Barriers fill our road these days making it difficult to maneuver around. My husband just lost his job. There is no income coming regularly into our home. We have no clue what to do next. What now God? Will we choose to endure for the sake of endurance, setting our faces like a flint or will we cling to the One who endured it all needing His perseverance to come in us? There's a subtle difference there. One requires my efforts and disciplines. The other requires His.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Life often comes around full circle for me. Need suddenly opens the door for humility extending an invitation that readies my heart to receive. I cannot, nor do I want to do this life alone. It's starting to make some sense to me now. I'm understanding more and more the words my mother once spoke. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Life's obstacles are awakening a place within me, allowing my will to be placed in the right direction. I'm learning to receive what Christ waits to give to me; all that He accomplished for me when He walked out of that grave. He, is my perseverance. It's not up to me. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He perseveres in me, through me, into life around me. He is my hope, my endurance, my strength, the one who keeps me hanging on.</span></span></div><div><div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I see Him there. He rides on the heavens to help us and underneath are His everlasting arms. He invites me to fall into them allowing their strength to move me forward. I need Him, oh how I need Him. I am convinced it's the invitation He's been waiting for. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted: 2011; Julie L. Todd</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /><blockquote></blockquote></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div></div></div></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-60012984371784133662011-03-18T15:23:00.012-04:002011-03-18T23:03:34.257-04:00Living in the Unseen©<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Who hasn't heard the saying, "when a door closes a window opens?" It's one of those infamous cliches that one uses to comfort when things go wrong. But what does one do when the door’s been slammed and the window has yet to open?</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 16.0px Arial; min-height: 18.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Geneva;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We are there.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Last Thursday my husband was laid off from his job of almost 6 years. We knew the possibility existed, we just didn't think it would be us...... </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Being a one-income family has caused this abrupt end to rattle us. Honestly we don't have a clue what we’ll do next. Some days we’re still in the shock stage. These are the times that try a man's soul.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Our emotions have been all over the place. The questions rise up from some place deep. Is God really good? Will He really take care of us? Do I really trust God with me, with us, with what all this will look like?</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The words have been spoken repetitively. "God's got something better."</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I want to believe it, I really do. But I contemplate how there could be something better than what we had? As I type the words I see how easily my focus goes to what I can see working out. I can easily equate the goodness of God with the goodness of my circumstances.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I've been around the block enough to know that the "God has something better" might not mean the most pleasant of circumstances. Can I really trust God with this unknown territory? It doesn't help that years ago we lived through the </span><span style="text-decoration: underline ; color:#0000ee;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><a href="http://jewelsightings.blogspot.com/2008/02/character-of-man.html">season of the jobs</a></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Though much good came out of that time it's hard not to remember that long hard winter and wonder.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">At times the battle is fierce. There are moments when the uncertainty of it all shakes me at my core. The enemy whispers his taunts hoping to discourage me. "How can this possibly work out?" "Look around you." "How in the world will you guys make it?" His voice resounds in this seen world around me. Yet Jesus' voice trumps his when I choose to trust Him with what I cannot see.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I find myself remembering the words in Hebrews, "more blessed are those who have not seen, yet believe." They take on new meaning at a time like this. If I look at what I can see there is not much hope here. I live in a small, rural, mountain town where jobs are few and far between. But isn't it in the unseen world that the unexplainables happen? </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I have a favorite clip in the movie, "The Last of the Mohicans". A group of British soldiers are escorting 2 women through Indian territory to their father. Suddenly their guide turns on them in ambush. Those in the midst of the ambush have no idea of 3 Mohicans who are on the run to rescue them. Suddenly out of nowhere, they appear. The ambush is thwarted and the remaining party is saved.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The story line makes me think of life behind the scenes in my world. Father, Son and Holy Spirit are always on the move. It's not dependent on what I can see happening. It's dependent on their faithfulness to move heaven and earth to come for me, simply because I need.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I want to trust in the way of a child. They don't question whether they’ll have food or shelter. They don't wonder if they will be cared for, protected or even rescued. They rest in the care of their parents because they know their place in the family. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I want to be there, all the time, with the One who Fathers me. I want to rest in knowing my place in the heart of Love. It’s the battle my mind now faces. These inner struggles are part of the “greater things” that He does.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Darkness meets light as fears that lay hidden make their way out in the open. In their moments I am invited to wrestle with God until I believe what is already true for me. It is then He can overcome me much as He did Jacob, allowing me to find that which has always been true. I belong to One who loves me to the point of death. Nothing stood in the way of His rescue then. Nothing stands in His way now. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Selah</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; color:#880000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993300;">“Those who are historically experiencing the greatest measure of the Holy Spirit’s power are those who doggedly choose to give up control over how their life must look and instead call good whatever God has allowed, caused, withheld, delayed or denied.” </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; color:#880000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993300;"> John Lynch - 2011</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted: 2011; Julie L. Todd</span></p><p></p></span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-33487726457914070052011-03-03T16:48:00.010-05:002011-03-04T00:14:19.778-05:00Another One Bites The Dust ©<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The more I walk through this journey the more I am stunned at how much wrong I have believed. The God I have known is not the God I now know. So many things were distorted through the years. I don't blame the people who taught me. I see it for what it is. The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy. I have been realizing just how deceived I have been. Good news is God is exposing them all. One more bit the dust this week.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">When I heard my friend John say the words I knew someplace deep that something had been powerfully distorted in my mind. "Faith is never the grounds for salvation, never a meritorious work in your behavior." "Your believing, while an essential response, proves only that His grace was extended to you."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">"It is by grace you have been saved, yet it is not of yourselves; it is the gift of God."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">For years I believed that I had invited God into my life. I had prayed the prayer asking Him to come in. We sang the song, "Into my heart, into my heart, come into my heart, Lord Jesus." I literally believed that somehow Jesus entered my heart because of my choosing of Him. I didn't realize that I had it backwards. He didn't enter into me. I entered into Him. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I didn't choose Him. He chose me. It was His grace that was shown to me inviting me to receive His eternal gift. It's not just the gift of heaven. It's not even about forgiveness of my sins.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The invitation of God woos me to respond to a love that has been and always will be. It's a love that offers me to come as I am and be known for who I was made to be. It restores all that was broken, reconciling me to Him completely.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Somehow things got all mixed up. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I've used the term too many times to count.. "I need to get that from my head into my heart." As I type the words I see the disparity in them. If I truly embrace the gift of this God I love why do I struggle between two worlds of head and heart? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">God gives His gifts for free. He expects nothing in return. He's just plain crazy about me. After all He made me to love. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">As I have seen my justification, so I have seen my sanctification. The same way I believed I had my part in being made right with God, I have believed I have my role in being transformed. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I've spent the better part of my life running around trying to make myself worthy, acceptable, lovable. All the while all He wanted for me was that I would receive the gift so freely given.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">If Jesus paid it all then how can I owe Him anything? What could I ever do that would be enough? </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> In some strange, warped way I believed that I owed Him my life. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I believed I played my part in salvation therefore I must play my part in cleaning myself up. I see how subtlety the lies wove their way into the fabric of my walk. I see how naturally I became the one who would work hard to make who she was better.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It is by grace I have been saved. It is a gift from God so that no man can boast. Without receiving I will do nothing but strive and try to prove myself worthy. I will need to "one-up" others around me. I will have to do more and be better. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">In that one moment when I took His outstretched hand offered He joined me to Him. He called me righteous. He announced I was holy. He wiped out all my sins, past, present and future. Everything that had been broken was made new. I was totally and completely reconciled to God on no part of my own. It's astounding to consider.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Awakenings come frequently now. This beautiful thing that I have walked into is absolutely and totally His. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Transformation is taking ahold of my life.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It is by grace I am saved. It is by grace I am changed... Grace - charis, a gift which is freely given. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The extravagant love of my God not only has reconciled me to Him. He wants nothing from me but that I would let Him love me. Another lie bites the dust as this beautiful Spirit inside reveals the truth that sets me free. Freely He gives, freely I receive. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted: 2011; Julie L. Todd</span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-21762405404302089022011-02-18T14:51:00.008-05:002011-02-18T20:45:51.809-05:00Fanning The Flames Anew ©<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My tears led the way to my chat with Jesus. It all started with my <a href="http://www.princesswarriorlessons.com/2011/02/all-i-have-to-do-is-dream-dream-dream.html">friend’s</a> words. Her blogpost spoke of how after a long, hard season, she was beginning to dream again. I saw myself woven into the details of her story. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It’s been a year of endurance not only for myself but for my family too. Early in 2010 my 3rd born experienced his first real break up. The next day he broke his hand requiring surgery. Eight weeks later, he was released from the doctor. Soon after his release, his hand was broken again in the same spot while playing a game at camp. He started the healing process all over again.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My 2nd born excitedly announced the expectancy of our first grandchild. Twelve weeks later when she went in to hear the baby’s heartbeat she was told her little one had died. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Around the same time, my 1st born announced her engagement. Two months later the traumatic phone call came. Her engagement had been broken off. She needed her father to come and drive her home. She walked in the door broken and confused. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Since the beginning of 2010 God has been plowing up the fallow ground of my husband’s heart awakening us both to broken places hidden away inside. It’s been needful yet very, very messy.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A friendship I had had great hopes for took a turn in a direction I didn’t expect, taking pieces of my heart with it.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As I sat with my journal open I allowed the pain that lay hidden behind the emotions to spill out. "What's the point of desiring, I just end up getting hurt." "I'm better off not longing for anything, at least that way I won't have to deal with the pain of hope deferred."</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Why is it that life seems so daunting sometimes? I was taken back to the pastor's words spoken to me in 2004. Instantly God had given him a vision of me. He saw a horse itching at the gate wanting to get out. "You see yourself as a sprinter, get in, get the job done," he said. "But God wants you to know that you've been built for endurance." "In the days that are troubled, ask yourself... how do I have hope today?"</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I hadn't done that. I'd set my face like a flint to keep enduring but I’d forgotten to look for hope. As I sat with the tears pouring down my cheeks I realized I’d lost the ability to dream. I’d lost trust in His delight to give me the desires of my heart. All I could see were the hardships that must be endured. I forgot to look for hope. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was my husband's prayer for me that day that stirred the longings up to the surface. "Surprise her today, God."</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I packed up my things and drove to Starbucks. It was after all my writing day. I couldn't understand why I was going. I hadn't written one word in weeks, words have been stuck inside me. I hoped that as I moved forward God would do something to re-ignite the embers of my heart.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">While I was gone a package came. I wasn’t expecting anything.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Inside the box was a letter.... “You are our ipad winner of the day.” I had entered one giveaway after another longing to give one to my husband. David is always thinking of his family, never buying anything for himself. I knew if he could buy himself anything it would be an ipad. I knew I probably would never have the money to buy one yet I longed to give him this gift. I don’t know if the neighbors heard my squealing. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Wait! How did this happen? They said the winners would get an e-mail that they would need to respond to in 72 hours in order to receive their prize. I hadn’t gotten an e-mail. I hadn’t responded. How did they get my mailing address? I didn’t give it to them. What about the winner’s list where all the winners are listed? My name wasn’t on there. Why wasn’t my name on there? It didn’t make sense. How could I be their winner of the day?</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was in that moment that I saw the twinkle in His eyes. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">God gave me a desire of my heart. He took the bellows of my fragile faith and fanned it anew as I watched a desire satisfied before my eyes. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Last Friday I saw once again that a longing fulfilled really is a tree of life. </span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted: 2011; Julie L. Todd</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;"> </span></p></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-24410364656281907392011-02-14T22:20:00.003-05:002011-02-14T22:25:00.916-05:00How He Loves Revisited ©<p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">* Note: I am revisiting a post I wrote in Feb. 2008. Hope you enjoy...</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">What is it about love stories? Scenes from movies I love become etched in my brain: Aragorn’s captivation with Arwen in “Lord of the Rings”; Nathaniel’s pursuit to rescue Cora in “The Last of the Mohicans”; William Wallace’s passion for Murron in “Braveheart”; or Colonel Brandon’s patient love that waited for Marianne in “Sense & Sensibility”. There’s something about these scenes that speak to the deepest places of my heart. I was after all created for love.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; min-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Once upon a time there was a beautiful love story. I was seen, delighted in and loved, yet I didn't really know. A villain had previously entered my story, disguised his voice and told me lies about who I was. He told me that I was not loved or wanted. He whispered to me, “You are lacking”; “You are too much, and not enough all at the same time"; “You are a problem who causes problems.” And I believed him.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; min-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Hidden in the shadows was another who was watching, calling out to me. Even when I didn't know Him, He knew me. I never left his eyes. He was waiting to rescue me. He was waiting for me to need His rescue.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; min-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One day I cried out. I became his, at least in his eyes, that is.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; min-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I wanted to be loved by him, but couldn’t resolve the facts. The things I had heard from the villain seemed so true. They matched up with the things that had happened in my life. I couldn’t believe anything else, for the lies had become my truth.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; min-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There was so much that was unlovely about me. How could he possibly love me? Maybe if I worked hard enough for him he would notice me and approve.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; min-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">No matter how much I did it was never enough. I graded myself daily on my behavior. Surely he must see what I see. Surely he finds me lacking. Yet He waited patiently until I was done looking for love, in all the wrong places. He waited for me to see His. Could it possibly be true that I was being pursued for love alone?</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; min-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He invited me to take a go with Him into the wilderness. He knew it would be arduous and long, but it was the only way to free my heart. The barren lands and empty springs left exposed what I really believed about me and about Him. I began to remember what had happened while in captivity. Though painful to remember I knew it was the only way to be free to be loved. The lies had to be exposed for what they were in order for the truth to take root.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; min-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He never left my side. He was my constant companion. With each memory he soothed me with his words of love, while applying salve to the open wounds. He spoke against the lies that I had believed. He began to tell me the truth of who I was to him. Like a tiny rosebud at the onset of Spring, life and love began to burst into my being.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; min-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Finally I began to believe. There was someone who saw me. There was someone who loved me. He had that look in his eyes. I captivated him. I never knew I could be loved so fiercely just as I am.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; min-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I am loved with an everlasting love. I have always been loved. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;">I will always be loved. Love came down to rescue me. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;">I am His and He is mine.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; min-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Happy Valentines’ Day, Jesus. You take my breath away. I love you forever.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Your Jewel</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); "></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt. In that day," declares the LORD, "you will call me 'my husband'; you will no longer call me 'my master'." Hosea 2:14-16</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC33CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted: 2011, Julie L. Todd</span></span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-33430856687108594812011-01-13T16:20:00.011-05:002011-01-13T23:34:58.467-05:00Sinking Into the Armor ©<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The more I am exposed to the unmerited favor of God, the more the epiphanies make their way into my paradigm, renewing my mind afresh. He's taking things that have been tucked away and making sense of them, opening my eyes to see them differently than I have known.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Yokes of performance and striving have filled my life for most of my years. Slowly but surely each one is being exposed for what it is. The wheat is being sifted to blow away the chaff, allowing that which has no value to be removed for good. Scriptures that I have read for my entire life are being seen through different lenses. The more the Spirit of God fine tunes my eyesight the more clearly I see, things are not what I thought they were.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I'd heard the passage preached throughout my life</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">. If you look in my Bible you'll see the notations from things heard that I wanted to put into practice. Each element was described beautifully, revealing it's importance. Exhortations were often strong and commanding. "Put on the full armor of God." </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">How does one actually put an armor like that on? How do you envision wearing it all day? I feared what would happen if I didn't. I was told I would leave myself open for attack. Was I doing it correctly? If I didn't would I then be exposed to dangerous attempts at my well being? </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">I tried hard to obediently put on each piece daily, doing my best to picture each part in it's place .</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">That is until the epiphany came.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The armor is not something that I put on. It is something I sink into. It's not a visible set like the knights wore. It is Jesus in Me.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">Paul is exhorting me to live in the identity of my new nature where Jesus' completed life interweaves with mine. I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live. Christ now lives in me. We are interwoven together as one.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">Jesus is the armor that I sink into. Jesus in Me.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I don't put it on,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "> as an act of obedience, I live in it. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">Paul is inviting me to realize what is already true. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">I am Jesus in Julie. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">The resurrected Christ lives in me. He is my armor. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">Each piece described in the passage points back to the One who conquered sin, death and the grave. </span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The belt of truth - Jesus is the way, the truth and the life. (John 14:6)</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The breastplate of righteousness - Jesus is the Righteous One who makes me righteous. (II Corinthians 5:21)</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The shoes of gospel of peace - Jesus is the Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The shield of faith - I live by the faith "of the Son of God" who loved me and gave Himself for me. (Galatians 2:20)</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The helmet of salvation - Jesus is the Savior of the world. (Luke 2:11)</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The sword of the Spirit which is the Word of God. - In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was with God. (John 1:1)</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It's not about my envisioning placing armor on my body, it's about living out what happened the day Jesus walked out of that tomb. I was made righteous once and for all. My old life is gone. I was given a new nature. Christ lives inside me perfecting my imperfections. He is the way to the truth to the life. Even on my worst day I am and will always be the righteousness of Christ.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">Once more the chains that once bound me fall away as I realize it all. Jesus invites me to step into His completed life in me. Just the thought of it all astounds me. Christ exchanged His life for mine. He gave me another chance at life. He made me new. </span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">It's not up to my obedient act that gets it right. It's Christ in me that makes me right. Baby step by baby step I'm learning to see this Jesus who lives inside me. As I do I find absolute protection as I realize, Jesus the Prince of Peace, the Righteous One, the Savior of the world has now become my armor. I'm sinking into the full armor of God.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">©copyrighted: 2011; Julie L. Todd</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p></span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-21032224452297136892010-12-21T13:06:00.005-05:002010-12-21T23:02:20.717-05:00When God Came Down©<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I've heard the stories. Flannel graph pictures depicting lives of people born years before were told each week in Sunday school. I've known the story of Jesus for as long as I can remember. He came as a baby born in a manger with a mission. I was told He would die to take my sins away.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The emphasis was salvation from my sins and entrance into heaven. Nobody really talked much about the relationship or the completion. Until recent years I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">didn</span>’t really understand that it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wasn</span>’t my sin He was focused on, it was ME. Sin and shame blocked my heart from receiving. He came to clear the pathway, opening a way for me to get to His love. For God so loved, ME, He gave His only Son to clear away the effects of my sin.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In His unmerited favor I was given, life. Grace opened the door allowing me to receive all that He offers me. It's by His grace that I have been saved, not by anything of myself. As I trust Him with me, my heart has opened to embrace the love that has waited in the wings. As I have seen that my sin <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">isn</span>’t His focus I have been driven to run into His presence. He <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">doesn</span>’t care what I’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ve</span> done. He cares about me.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">At this time of year the focus is on a baby born in a manger who would take away the sins of the world. But this year more than ever I am seeing the beauty of the story of this One who came to redeem my heart. Jesus came to love the world. Sin and shame were in His way. He had to stand against them once for all with the gift of His life. He’s not focused on the sin. He’s focused on loving those He created to love.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When Jesus stepped out of that grave, he left my sins behind, buried in the grave with death. They no longer keep me from Him. From that moment forward my offenses were covered forever. I no longer have to live in the identity of a woman covered by sin and shame. I was given the gift of a brand new life. I was invited into the embrace of love, perfect, unconditional love.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I am not loved less for what I’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ve</span> done. I am loved perfectly. My actions don’t please Him. I do. I do not have to do another thing to be pleasing to Him. The works of the law are fulfilled forever closing the door on performance based acceptance. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unmerited favor is freely given. I can’t do one thing to deserve it. I can't earn it nor can I attain it. I just get it. It's not based on me and what I do. It's based on the heart of the Giver. I am invited to receive all that He freely gives.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Jesus invites me to live His life out of me. He reminds me when I fall He is there to pick me up, brush me off, wrap His arms around me and love me with truth of who I am. He constantly reminds me that my junk has been redeemed, forever. He desires that I live as He made me to be before sin wracked my mind, soul and body. He tells me often who I am to Him. I do not have to do any rituals to be close to His heart. I am already there. I am now invited to receive my inheritance.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The One who is perfect love came to this earth to redeem me from a life riddled with sin, guilt and shame. He took me off the gerbil wheel of performance. He perfected my imperfections. He gave His life in exchange for mine. My old stony heart was removed and His was transplanted in. When Jesus walked out of that tomb my life began over again.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He has made me holy, righteous, godly once for all. The requirements of the law have been fulfilled for all eternity. The Old Covenant has been replaced with a New Covenant. Love has redeemed me from the law of sin and death.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When God came down life was altered forever. For the first time since the sin of mankind perfect love was put on display for all to see through the life of one who came as a babe and grew to be a man. I rejoice as I consider what this little life meant to me. When God came down in the body of a baby perfect love invaded the world to change my life forever.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted: 2010 Julie L. Todd</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"> </p></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-78455182167141226272010-12-05T12:55:00.006-05:002010-12-05T15:59:16.368-05:00Seeing Anew ©<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> As I sit here contemplating life I am reminded of my son around 4 years of age. I see his little face looking up at me and winking. At first I thought it was adorable. But when it became more prominent I began to wonder if something was wrong. He was taken to a specialist who diagnosed him with a high level of farsightedness. His right eye was turning inward seeking to find it's focus. After several years the treatments stopped yet he continued to wear glasses. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> We believed the problem had been absolved but it hadn't. Unbeknownst to us the brain had reverted back to it's previous, familiar focusing techniques. Bifocals were added to his prescription to force the right eye to focus correctly. In the process the doctor believed the mind would be trained with the true programming. He's been in this process now for several years. As time has passed we've seen improvement. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> A month ago we went in to pick up a new pair of glasses. As he put them on immediately he struggled to find focus. At first we thought the lab had gotten the prescription wrong but upon further examination the Optician discovered the problem. His old pair of glasses had gotten out of sync. The bifocal line had moved altering his vision once again. The new glasses were correct. The old were not. It would take a little adjusting but in a matter of hours he should be good to go.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> Immediately I knew it was a picture for my heart. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> Years of living a religious life has left it's effects on my mind. So many "should's", "ought to's" and "musts" have been pounded in. For the better part of life I had been trained to think a certain way. "I need to make who I am better." "I need to strive to be pleasing to God." </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">"If I do enough right things maybe God will be happy with me." "If I study, pray, and read enough maybe it will </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">be</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> enough." It was a life about what I could and would do that would make the difference. It was bondage at it's finest. It caused me to live with a ruler that measured everything and hoped it would measure up. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> That is until God added bifocals to my prescription. It was then I first began to see.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> At times</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> it feels as if there is a boatload of mismatched thoughts floating around in my brain. Years of knowledge have programmed my thinking. It's easy to revert to the old way of seeing pretty quickly. But as God sifts the wheat from the tares my focus begins to change as my mind is renewed with truth. It's a process I'm certain will go on until I meet Jesus face to face. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> I've begun to see things I'd never seen before. I cannot make who I am better. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The old me was crucified forever. I was made new. My past and all it's effects have been removed once for all. The sins I have done, the sins that have been done against me are forever absolved. I will never, ever be able to do enough to make God happy with me. For it's not about what I do that makes Him happy, it's about who I am to Him. I don't have to pray or read to find Him, He's inside me all the time. His Spirit has made His home in me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> Everything now becomes an invitation at His initiation. His Spirit indwelling woos me to walk with Him into new places. He allures me to a life that requires nothing of me but to receive all that Christ gave to me when He was crucified, buried and rose to new life. As Jesus was buried so was my past. When He rose anew, I did too.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> I'm trying to wrap my mind around it all.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> Sometimes these lenses get out of adjustment and my mind wanders back to the old way of seeing. Gently, lovingly He takes my face in His hands to direct my gaze back to where it needs to be. Slowly but surely my mind is being reprogrammed by each new prescription. Moment by moment I am seeing anew. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> At times it overwhelms me. At times it feels as if there is too much out of sync in my mind. It's then I remember that God comes for me in the out of sync places to tell me what is true. The gift of His Spirit indwelling will always guide me into to the path of life. I rejoice as I see it is He who connects the dots inside my mind. His Spirit makes the way into understanding. He leads the blind along the unfamiliar paths. I see I am right where I need to be. I am desperately dependent on Him in me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted 2010, Julie L. Todd</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-45425885001366842992010-11-27T20:57:00.004-05:002010-11-27T21:10:24.628-05:00A Puzzle in the hands of God©<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I’ve always enjoyed a good puzzle. There’s something about watching the pieces come together to form it’s picture that gives you a sense of accomplishment. It’s rewarding to watch the segments fall into place. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> A few years back I bought a 1,000 piece puzzle and brought it home for the children and I to work. As we dumped the pieces onto the table a daunting task lay before us. Could we put it all together? It became a contest to see who could put the most sections together. Mountains, fields of flowers, blue skies and clouds made up the scenery.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> At the onset it was easy. We placed the edges together first setting up the exterior frame. Once the frame was in place the difficulty of matching up the rest of the pieces came into play. The greatest challenge was the solid blue sky and the field of flowers. We began to wonder if we would ever find the pieces that would fit. At times we wanted to give up. But there was something about seeing our puzzle’s completion that kept us persevering till the end. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Victory came the day the last piece was entered into the picture. Fields of flowers had been matched, mountain tops displayed, blue skies conquered. Every piece had found it’s place. It felt good, really good.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Life has felt a bit like that lately, since God started awakening my heart to my reality. I am a new creation. The old me has been crucified with Christ. </span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Sometimes I feel as if I am in between two worlds. Much is being restructured in my life as I walk away from trying to make the old me better. I’m learning to embrace that I am already made new. In these last few years I’ve come to understand that God is crazy about me, just as I am. It’s been quite the paradigm shift from the religious order of things.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Years of discrepancies had been pounded into my head. Old Covenant teachings had been mixed with New Covenant realities. The two don’t mix you know. One was fulfilled by the order of the other. No longer is my walk with God about what I do. It’s now about what has been done for me. No longer do I have to make who I was better. I get to start over and live in what’s already true about me. I am the completed Christ in Julie.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Sometimes the two worlds collide and I find myself wondering which way is the right way? What’s really true about me? I so desperately want to see myself in the new creation that God has made in me. Yet so often the old, programming finds it’s way in making things a bit confusing.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> It’s then God reminds me of how perfectly He has cut each of the pieces that make up my life. He tells me that it’s not up to me to figure out what this crucified life looks like. It’s His to open the eyes of my understanding to reveal the truest things about me. He’s got each piece in His hands. His Spirit which dwells inside will make all things known. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> I am taking baby steps into my reality. I am learning how to live all over again. For I am new. If it were not so, the Spirit of the living God could not dwell in me. But it is true, therefore He can and does. All that was required of me through the law is fulfilled. I am forever free from the shame that has blanketed my soul.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> As far as the east is from the west are my sins and the sins of others removed from my life. No longer does my sin stand between God and me. Jesus now stands beside me with His arm wrapped around my shoulders. We now look at my sin together. He waits to show me a better way. He loves me into what has always been true.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> I am being reconstructed, one piece at a time. The best news of all is that I no longer have to figure out where the segments fit. It is the work of His Spirit.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> He who formed every piece is placing them one by one right where they belong. In the process He unveils the scenery that makes up my heart. Little by little I am becoming who I was always made to be. I am learning to live anew.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">©copyrighted: Julie L. Todd; 2010</span></p>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-31213687941071650532010-10-30T11:27:00.002-04:002010-10-31T11:20:30.921-04:00The Hidden Places of the Soul ©<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It's been 2 months since I have written a post. I've ached for words to fill my mind and spill out onto the page, yet none have come. I have to admit I've wondered if the season of writing has moved on in my life. Though I don't know why anyone would want to read these musings of my heart, I love putting them down on the page. It's like walking into my garden and seeing a seed come to life. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The absence of words have been a result of this season I am walking in. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">Endurance has been a frequent visitor here where I dwell. I live in a broken world. Sin broke God's perfect order. I feel it as broken places are being made known.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">As I try to put into words what is being experienced in my life I once again remember when my mother, sister and I cleaned out the attic in my grandmother's house. In order to find the treasures that lay hidden inside, the remains had to be sifted through. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">As we made our way through the layers of artifacts from years of life, there was much to be discarded. There was much that had no value.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">So it has been with our little family. God has been shaking all that could be shakened so that only that which is lasting will remain, (Hebrews 12:). I have felt the shaking of the sieve that contains my life. Though I know the hands have been gentle as they have held me, the sifting has at times been vigorous. It's what has been needful to remove the affects sin has left on me and mine. Sins I have done; sins that have been done against me have left their messes. Lies about who I am have lain hidden in the crevices of my mind.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Hiddenness seems to be a safe place to be, yet it's not. For in the concealed places of the mind, the pain is there even though no one really knows. Hidden away hurts are never gone. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">It's only as I allow the Spirit of God to bring them into light that they can be exposed for what they are. It was made to happen best in the context of relationship. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">It's much easier to hide than to let others know what's real inside of me. Shame blankets the mind convincing me that if anyone knew they'd run. It doesn't help that a few people who I've opened up to have appeared to run. It's hard to let people get close enough to see. It feels as if I'm standing out on a street corner naked while others stand there fully clothed gazing at me. What will they do with what I share? Is it safe to tell? When I share my life with someone and they withhold themselves I feel the stark nakedness.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">Stepping out into the light, allowing another to know me, exposes the dark things hidden inside that continue to hold me captive. It exposes the voices in my head. It opens the doorway for love to have it's way. It gives another the opportunity to tell me what is real and true.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">That is where David and I have been walking these last few months. We are stepping out of our hidden places into the light. We are exposing the dark places of our soul. We are risking, trusting that in the process we will be found. As a result we are finding a touch unlike any other.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">Too many years of wearing our masks, trying to be who we thought we were supposed to be has kept us from the freedom to be who we really are. The guilt and shame of sin had told us a story that was far from true. Hidden away underneath all the rubble lies the beautiful identity bestowed on us. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">Slowly but surely the messes in our lives are being discarded and treasures are being found. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">The Rescuer is coming for us, just as the team went for the miners of Chile. He knows we are hidden away and need to come out. So He drills down deep, one layer at a time, to find us. Some days the road feels arduous. Some days we want to give up. Some days we feel that we will never get out of this dark cave.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">But just as the darkest hour of night is right before dawn so it is with the pitch black hours of the soul. At just the right moment a shaft in the mine opens, the Rescuer reaches down and brings me out to the brilliant light of a fresh new day. I am found.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">What about you. Are you allowing yourself to come out of hiding to be known?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted: 2010; Julie L. Todd</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div></div></div></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-15053164951587445292010-08-29T14:37:00.003-04:002010-08-30T12:37:39.323-04:00The Freedom of a Child©<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My fifth child came out of the womb looking to give affection. There’s just something about touch that is in her dna. Even as a teenager she still likes to come, climb up in my bed after waking, and snuggle. As a younger child, no matter what was going on in her day she was often drawn to where I was. She wanted to be with me. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In the late afternoons I would steal away into my bedroom for a little down time before the arsenic hour of dinner and bedtime hit. It wouldn't take long for my little one to come toddling in looking for me. The ways she came varied depending on what was going on inside her.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Sometimes she would come in wanting to talk to me. Other times she would walk in to see what I was doing, give me a hug, a kiss, then leave. But her favorite times were when she would hear me chatting on the phone with a friend. She would grab up her blanket, toddle into the room to climb up into my lap and rock. Laying her head against my chest she would just sit. There was something about those moments that beckoned her away from her busy activities into my embrace. It was the moment of stillness where she could just be, with Me.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As I chatted away, she snuggled down close, allowing my voice to reverberate in her ears. As my heart strummed it's steady beat, soothing her body, she would often ease into a sweet rest.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I loved how she came. I didn’t keep track of how often she chatted with me, or how frequently she climbed up in my lap. I just loved that she knew her place with me. I loved the ease in which she moved into what her heart stirred her to do. She didn't wonder or question. She lived in the comfortable freedom to be who she was in the moments never wondering if it was acceptable. She came just as she was longing to come. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It has taken me a while to get here but I’m finding my way into the childlike faith that knows the ease of being with One who loves them beyond any fears or expectations that might tell them otherwise. I'm finding that it requires no real discipline to follow the heart. Regimen requires discipline while the Spirit's urgings of the heart evoke following. The longings of the heart well up inside luring you to be where you need to be. </span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In these beautiful moments I find His invitation is extended wooing me to follow Him inside me. </span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As I grow into this love that takes my breath away, I’m finding life with God is much simpler than I've known it to be. He invites me to be with Him as my heart beckons me to be, for it is after all where His Spirit dwells. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In simplicity I am finding the beauty of the invitation of His Spirit made known. This beautiful, childlike faith is drawing me into a place much like my daughter has lived with me. Sometimes the Spirit lures me to look to see what He’s doing, give him a hug, a kiss then leave. Other times I come to talk to Him about what’s on my heart. But my favorite times are when I hear His voice and ease up into His lap. The sound of His voice soothes me into a stillness unlike any other.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As I delighted with my daughter's varied responses He delights with me. No records are kept, nor are there any agendas waiting to be fulfilled. He delights in seeing me come as I long to come. It's a stunning transformation. Day by day, moment by moment, I'm learning to live in the comfortable freedom of a child again. It's in that freedom I am learning to be.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva">©copyrighted: 2010, Julie L. Todd</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><br /></p><p></p>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-22982844582688785162010-08-25T21:50:00.006-04:002010-08-25T21:59:24.236-04:00Update/Courtney & Kevin<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Just a quick note to thank those of you who have visited Courtney & Hannah's blogs. You have blessed them so much! </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">Also, I wanted to tell you of an amazing thing that is happening in town.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">Courtney & Kevin, as you know, are in the process of raising support for their 6 months' missions trip to Europe and the 10/40 window. A local restaurant/pub heard of their endeavor and wanted to help raise funds for them. They decided to do a raffle with all proceeds going to Kevin & Courtney. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">The prize is a week's vacation in a condo a</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">t a resort in Cocoa Beach, Florida.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">I've attached a copy of the poster/brochure they've po</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">sted in their restaurant/pub.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:medium;">I'm just so blessed to see this local business want to come alongside Kevin & Courtney, it's just amazing!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Thanks again for your love and support. You've blessed us all!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglG718CNJD_Ek1MPddi1637-YT-FCx0qMVSC9d-ZJVoYct4DoMoXTXxElt6dKJ5dZZ1IwZpBhsEXp_i4yCILGlNUd2SyPfPcTt1a5smPwMbfu0eChT8okXnAWTRs7FOXHE1d0hJvoH-rtu/s400/45478_459993872497_600242497_6398394_5632864_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509531696713272114" /></span></span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-59424171632913722602010-08-14T10:51:00.014-04:002010-08-18T00:59:09.175-04:00Captured by His grace©<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It happened again this past week. Another one of my babies became an adult. It's a bit more daunting this go around. I must let go, trusting that this man-child whom I love will find his own path. It leaves my heart feeling torn as I rejoice over his time to fly, yet grieve for the life I've known with him, changing in an instant. It's a bitter/sweet moment in the life of a mother.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I came at some things later in life. Now in what feels like the last few moments of influence there is one piece of wisdom that resonates from the depths of my being I yearn for him to know. It is in utter dependence on the One who formed him in my womb that he will find his life. </span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I've walked the path of the capable, independent life where self-effort leads. I know it's cost all too well. Grace is not realized there. I see those things trying to make their way into my son's life as he tries to stand on his own two feet. As I watch, I yearn for him to know what I didn't know. In need he will find his path.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The emotions welled up inviting the tears to cascade down my cheeks. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In a moment it hit some place deep inside me as I realized. These aches I feel for my boy have been God's for me. In patient love He has waited for me to come. I am astounded as I understand more intimately this unconditional love that watches, waits and yearns.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">God has yearned for me to need Him for all things, not just the things I could not manage on my own. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He never intended that I figure out this life I've been given. He's longed for me to know who I am to Him. He's waited for me to utterly need Him in the depths of my being. For it is need that opens the passageway to receive His beautiful grace.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Self-effort kept me off the path of life. Independence</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> bolted the door. Being a capable</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> woman hindered my rescue. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Need led me to the</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> door of life, humility turned the handle while trust opened my heart</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to receive. It was then that grace began to be realized in me. Grace is Christ's efforts that fulfilled all things, given in exchange for mine.</span></span></div><div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Humility is not the absence of pride. It's being desperate enough to receive from God and those He places in my path. Trust is the driving force that allows me to receive Christ's life in it's totality. Without trust I will live between two worlds; the world of trying to do all the right things to please God with my righteous acts of service and the world of grace where the life of Christ is lived from the inside out. They are two very different worlds.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's one of the most vital things I've seen in my life. My attempts have kept me from the beautiful life of Christ inside me waiting to be lived out. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Christ has done it all. It's over. It really is finished. Every requirement that was placed on mankind has been satisfied. It's not what I do that pleases Him. It's living in who I am. The old covenant is fulfilled, and never to be mixed with the new. Everything started afresh at the resurrection.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The slate was wiped clean, and continues to be each and every moment of each and every day. There are no record of wrongs kept. No longer does shame cover me. I am righteous, holy, godly not because of what I do but because of what He did. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I have encountered Him in my midst. I have found the beauty that lies within weakness and need. It is in that place He comes in all His glory to awaken me to all of Him in me. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He has captured me with His grace. Step by step I am learning to walk, sometimes baby steps, sometimes strides. I have wrestled with God. He has overcome me. Though I may still walk with a limp I will never be the same again. Slowly but surely, I am learning to live from the inside out. As He yearns for me I yearn for my own. May they too will be captured by His beautiful grace.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted: 2010, Julie L. Todd</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"> </span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></div></div></div></div></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-88925848382485114482010-08-03T22:55:00.007-04:002010-08-03T23:31:33.139-04:00Meet My Daughters:<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">Hello my friends, I just wanted to take a minute to introduce you to my two daughters' blogs. Both are on a God journey.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">My girl, Hannah is walking a difficult road after her engage</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">ment was broken this past May. She is writing the musings of her heart as she seeks to find God in the midst of her brokenness. Her posts are raw and vulnerable as she honestly reveals the battles and questions she faces. If you'd like to visit, her blog is: <a href="http://www.hannahmtodd.blogspot.com/">Walking Into Freedom:</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">My Hannah:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 318px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxRRQmY8F9WiZlEz3rx-E26MNVuxnHg-xAfu2dTyh8DOeylII3cVVIpkZjRvtOeNTMJYbyG5FfSX9dUkeuhV3nH9HOhtYiaTzIRDGpUA7Yo-u-yXqbDUFaGY-AWra3YurjI3gVN137SoKe/s320/DSCF6007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501389373542257842" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">My girl Courtney and her husband Kevin are following God into a new adventure. This past April, at 12 weeks into their pregnancy, they learned that they had lost their baby. They were told that they would have to wait a year before trying to have another child. They began to seek God's heart on what He would have for this season of their lives. They felt Him leading them to go overseas for a YWAM Discipleship Training School/Outreach. They are currently raising support with plans to leave in early October. They are writing of their journey from marriage to miscarriage to missions. You can visit their blog here: <a href="http://kandcroot.blogspot.com/"> Together In Him:</a> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">My Courtney:</span></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 282px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV7CtTz0y5809hWan3e5hu-lxcCDW34MFGkadngnvUQz8XNQouMxFZxidf4y2HkMGQaF5IQmoeEzYphOTsmKULCc3P9q3JzuBCicELD2E0NkoTyvxhRpUHfwzgR0tWzXeDwpMzotV964CB/s320/IMG_1630.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501389693890665138" /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">My girls have walked some tough roads these last few months. I'd love to have you visit them and share the love that you have so beautifully given to me. If you stop by their blogs, please tell them you are a friend of mine. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">Thanks, friends for loving on my girls!</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-90411014405038474762010-07-25T18:52:00.006-04:002010-07-30T18:08:07.196-04:00The Fabric of My Life<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">An adorable little blonde girl sat contentedly on her father's lap eating her doughnut, not a care in the world. As I looked down at her small feet slipped inside her white sandals memories of years gone by flooded into my mind. Wasn't it just yesterday that my own girls wore cute little sandals much like hers? </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">God's timing is so impeccable at times that it overwhelms me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I had just been having a conversation with Him about my children and the years that had passed. When my children were the age of that little girl I didn't know much about grace. I wish I had. My life's path as a mother would have taken a much different turn. I would not have been so focused on modifying their behavior. I would have spent my time telling them who God saw them to be and what Christ's death really meant for them. I would tell them that they didn't have to get it all right, because that's what Jesus came to do. I would tell them that their sins will never define them, that God defines them. I would speak of His delight in them, telling them that He would never, ever, ever be ashamed of them for their mistakes. I would invite them to live in their reality, Jesus in them is their life. He wants to live from the inside out in them.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But I came into grace too late for their early years. I couldn't give them what I didn't have. Sometimes it feels like too much water has passed under the bridge. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">How does one reconcile the years gone by? What does one do with the tangle of threads they've woven into the life of another, especially when it is their child? How would one untangle such a mess? As I contemplate it all, feeling the overwhelm, I am reminded of when my grandmother taught me how to cross stitch.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">She started off showing me how to look at the pattern and count each square, placing the thread right where it needed to go. Once my lessen was finished I was sent home to work on my own. When I returned for my next instruction she turned the fabric over to look at the back. She immediately saw that I had been carrying threads across the fabric instead of taking the time to cut them close. The result was a chaotic mess. Patiently, Grandmother took the tangled threads out and wove them in neatly right where they needed to go. By the end of my first project the back of my tapestry was as neat as the front. Each and every mess had been resolved.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It's what I imagine Papa God does with the threads that I've woven into my life, and the lives of those I love. Somehow, someway He takes those threads and intertwines them into the fabric of each life weaving His story of redemption.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In some unfathomable way there is never too much water under the bridge for any life. God is the God of my yesterdays, my todays and my tomorrows. He weaves His story of restoration in ways my mind cannot comprehend. As He does with me, so He will do with my children. It's that which gives me hope.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Nothing I do will ever fix a thing in my life. I cannot make who I was better. Jesus died so that I might have a fresh, new start each and every day. He fixed everything and now offers to live His perfect life through me. I get to step into what He has done for me. He makes all things new.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">One by one He's taking the threads of my life, unraveling them, cutting them close while weaving them into a unique tapestry. It is the story that tells of how He came for one stuck in sin and shame and brought them out. As my children watch they are given a picture for their own lives. He is the God who makes all things good. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I live to tell, for I am His story of redemption.</span> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-50430988278089217482010-07-18T12:29:00.004-04:002010-07-18T15:37:58.051-04:00Confessions of a Child©<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">When I read about the disciples I don't feel so abnormal. They walked with Jesus for 3 years in the flesh, yet sometimes they were really clueless. One day they were</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> debating who was the greatest among them. Jesus' response is classic. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"Unless you become like a little child you cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven." </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">His words take me back to the early years of my children. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My children wanted protection and guidance. They</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> took my extended hand when it was offered. </span></span></div><div><div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">They knew they didn't have all the answers. They were inquisitive. They wanted to be taught.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">They didn't have their own provision. They came to us to be taken care of.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">They didn't try to figure out their lives. They needed guidance to tell them where to go, what to do. They trusted the one who guided them.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">When they were in pain, in need, in fear, afraid of the dark, they cried out. They were humble.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">They weren't ashamed to come as they were to climb up my lap. They didn't question whether I wanted them near, they just came. They loved to be loved. They loved to love.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">They wore no masks. They played no roles, they simply were who they were. They knew their place with me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">They believed. They trusted. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I see it so clearly now that I've lived it so wrongly. It's not just about salvation. It's about my identity. Unless I become like a child, I will never fully enter into the kingdom of Christ which now dwells in me. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">At 23, I walked through the door of salvation, with the heart of a child. Immediately I began to live as an adult. I took care of myself. I didn't have a clue how to need. I leaned on my own understanding. The "shoulds" of the law captured my heart and life became about me and what I had to do to be right and pleasing to him.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> I began to try and sanctify myself by trying to make my "old man" better. I lived from the outside in.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I put on my masks to co</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">ver my shame. I played my roles, the ones that gave me some sense of value and fulfilled expectations. I protected myself. I trusted myself. Before I knew it I had forgotten </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">what it looked like to enter in as a child. I quenched the very kingdom of heaven that made it's home in me, yet I didn't have a clue.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">At 52 years of age, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Jesus is bringing me back around. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I am learning how to become a child again.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I continue to come back to this thought. Jesus said He had to leave in order for something better to come. He ascended into heaven. His Holy Spirit descended upon the earth. No longer would I have to experience Him from the outside, He would come to my inside. He would tell me who He knows me to be. He would teach me, counsel me, guide me into truth, leading me through the paths of life. After all He said He leads the blind on the unfamiliar path.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">To inherit the kingdom is to live Christ in me. To live Christ in me, warrants the heart of a child that trusts out of a desire to be loved. He beckons me to come out from underneath my masks and be real before Him and others. He invites me to learn how to need again as He waits to take care of me. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Trust is the key that opens that door. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Without it I will never believe. Jesus is the way, the truth, the life. He is the way that leads me into the truth that gives me life. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I'm coming back around now to where I once started. I'm learning to trust, really trust. I long to be loved. I long to give love. I have no resources of my own. I need and I need desperately. I have no role to play, no ministry to fulfill. I don't need them anymore. I am learning how to be who I am in the moments of each day with a Spirit who inhabits me. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">He has made me new. I am learning what that looks like, living from the inside out with the One who knows the path of life. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In this magical place I am rediscovering the kingdom of heaven, Christ in me, is the hope of glory.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">©copyrighted: 2010; Julie L. Todd</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><br /></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div></div></div></div></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-42566341226043386022010-07-02T16:04:00.011-04:002010-07-12T20:44:01.199-04:00The Cries of the Heart©<div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Before I had children I often heard women speak of the different cries their children had and how they knew what each one meant. I couldn’t fathom how one would know the difference. Then I became a mother and I understood.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There were different cries for different needs. I knew them all. Even when they could not speak a word I knew from the sound of their tears what they were crying out for. Their need warranted my coming for them. I didn’t wait for them to express what was going on correctly. As their cries resounded, immediately I ran to gather them up.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I remember the day like it was yesterday, yet more than 6 years have passed. Times were tough and life was hard. I could feel the effects of the storms we found ourselves in the midst of. On this particular day I had reached the end. I felt the tears waiting just behind my eyes. As bedtime approached I started the water in the tub. I needed a place to escape and let loose. Once I stepped in, the dam of emotions broke loose sending it's rivulets down my cheeks.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It didn't take long for the sobs hidden someplace deep to find their way up and out. As I soaked my body, my soul released the longings of my heart. There were no words to speak. I was void of them. Where was God? I didn't have the energy to pray as I had been taught to do. Truth is I couldn't even breathe the word, "help". Wasn’t I supposed to cry out for help in order for God to come? What would happen to me now? I was about to find out.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I didn't do one thing, I didn’t utter one word, yet Jesus came.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was the beginning to an end for me. All these years I’d been trying to do and say all the things I was supposed to so that He could show up for me. Yet when I couldn’t do any of them He came in the most beautiful way.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was totally and completely bereft of words, actions, godly attitudes and choices, yet God came near to me and lifted me up into His arms' embrace. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;">I didn’t do one thing and still He came. It was in that moment I began to see something new and fresh. It's not about what I do that makes the difference, it's about who I am to Him.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I couldn’t get over it. I still can’t.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Tears are the language of the heart. Jesus knows what they mean. He reads them and rides on the heavens to save me. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;">I don’t have to say the right words or have the right posture. I simply need. It is my need that warrants His rescue.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva; min-height: 16.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Geneva"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As a mother comforts her child, so He comforts me. His great love stands ready, listening for my deep need to be made known. It's absolutely mind blowing when I think about it, just as I heard the needs of my children in their tears, He hears the cries of my heart.</span></p> <p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b>"There is no one like the God of Jeshurun, who rides on the heavens to help</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Geneva; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b> you and on the clouds in his majesty. The eternal God is your refuge, </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;"><b>and underneath are the everlasting arms.” Deut. 33:26-27b</b> </span></p></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted: 2010; Julie L. Todd</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-47374525214849862582010-06-18T14:52:00.009-04:002010-07-12T20:45:44.090-04:00The Interwoven Life of Us ©<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I've already raised two teenagers. I am currently raising two with another waiting in the wings to start her journey in about six weeks. Regardless of their gender they've shared a generic phrase during life encounters; "I know". </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My teenagers think they know alot more than they really know. That is until life proves otherwise.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's really not just a commonality with teenagers. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was true for the "learned" in Jesus' day. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's true for me too. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Knowledge became my goal. I believed that if I learned enough about God I would be loved. At least I would prove my allegiance, hopefully pleasing Him. Had I lived in the days when Jesus walked the earth I think I too would have been a good Pharisee. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Once I came to the end of my quest it was there I found love. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As I considered this paradox the other day Jesus sweetly began to reveal to me what knowledge had done to my life.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"Knowledge puffs up, Jewel." "It's often the hindrance to the encounter." "It's not about trying to understand me to know what I want from you." "It's about being open to receive me as I am in you."</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"You've spent most of your life trying to understand me so that you could be like me.... do all the right things, make all the right choices..."</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"That's not it, Jewel". "That will take you into a life of knowledge much like the men of my day." "They thought they knew so much about my Abba, yet they didn't have a clue about Me." They didn't see me for who I was." "They were looking for something they had learned." "I was there in their midst, yet they didn't see me." "Their knowledge puffed them up and kept them blind."</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"Knowing about Me and living in Me are two very different creatures." </span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"One requires Me, the other requires you." "Seek me to know me in you, not to know about me to imitate me." "You cannot imitate me." "I've lived my life, now you must live yours..." "It's the life of you and I interwoven together as one."</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"As the Father was in me, so I am in you." "The Father was reflected in me as I lived our life together." "It's the same for you, Jewel." "Dependence is the key." "Knowledge just puffs up."</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"Encounter me in you." "That's the ticket." "The people of my day had me right in the scope of their eyes and they had no clue." "They could have encountered my Abba through me, but they didn't."</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"I'm in the scope of your eyes, too Jewel. I'm in you." "Live out of that." "Don't try to figure it all out yourself." "You'll never figure it out." "It is my Spirit which was given to you that reveals all things." "Listen to My Spirit within you." "He will guide you into all truth." "You need Him in order to live this life." "Don't forget that."</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Jesus told the disciples that He had to leave in order for something better to come to indwell them. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">No longer is Jesus on the outside living His life. His Spirit now lives in me. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">His Spirit waits to reveal what that looks like, allowing me to live from the inside out.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Maybe that's why Jesus told us to become like little children. Little children look to their parents to guide them. They need.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's in the need that I am finding my release. I can't figure out this life. I have no clue. Honestly I don't want to have a clue anymore. After all, having my own ideas kept me from the beauty of encounters. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Spirit of the living God resides in me. He was sent to comfort, guide, counsel, teach. I have access to Him every moment of every day. It is He who guides me into all truth. No longer do I have to lean on my own understanding. I don't have to get it right or figure it all out. I am now invited to need Him to live. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">By His Spirit alone I live and move and have my being. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Life bearing encounters are making their way into my life as I awaken to this beautiful Spirit that chooses to make His home in me. As He engages with me in the moments of life I am finding my way into the stunning discovery of this interwoven life of "us".</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> "Knowledge puffs up by love builds up."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> I Corinthians 8:1</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted: 2010; Julie L. Todd</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7134116388719375338.post-23247208255112119192010-06-12T12:42:00.008-04:002010-07-12T20:46:35.881-04:00Loving the Impromptu©<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I gathered my things together and headed out for my normal Friday Starbucks day. I knew my 1st and 3rd born children would be standing behind the counter, waiting to serve me. I was surprised to see my 2nd born married girl walk through the door. She'd stopped by to sit with me on her lunch break.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">What a gift it is to have impromptu times such as these. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We grabbed a table and within minutes my oldest took her 10 minute break and joined us.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The 3 of us sat talking, laughing, enjoying the sheer pleasure of being together. It wasn't what we talked about that brought me joy, it was the gift of comfortable conversation and love shared.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My heart was taking it all in, relishing the gift of this time. I had no record in my mind of how long it had been since we had all been together like that. I didn't really care. The truth is all I care about at those moments is the pleasure of sitting there with my girls. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's in times like these my heart sees a clearer picture of the One who loves me beyond measure.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So many years of my life I went to sit with God due to a requirement I was encouraged to fulfill.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was told often that if I loved Him I would spend at least 30 minutes a day in "quiet time", preferably in the morning. So, I did. I wanted to prove my love for Him.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When I missed a day, guilt came after me. If I missed several I often chastised myself. I didn't deserve for Him to talk to me. After all I had neglected Him for days. I had no idea how wrong I was about Him. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But now, as I move into this place of intimate relationship He opens my eyes to see things I've not known. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He's not waiting with a record book to see if I will come. There is no data kept that tells Him how frequently I've visited Him. There's no agenda that needs to be discussed, no right words to speak. His heart is the one that beats in me. He loves it when I drop by for a visit. He relishes the impromptu visits led by the heart.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The words spoken in conversation are not even what it's about. The sheer pleasure of having me come to hang out with Him is.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The truth is, He's just plain delighted to see me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As Hannah's break ended, Courtney's time was up as well. Hugs and kisses goodbye, "I love you's" spoken left my heart full to overflowing. My girls came to hang out with me. There is no greater gift for my mother's heart.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I love the impromptu moments of the heart's leading with my children. What if I required them to come and sit with me? How would it fare? Intimacy would be replaced with expectations. It just wouldn't be the same for my heart, nor theirs.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Days will go by before the next opportunity comes. Impromptu times have no routine for they happen as we live in the moments. It's times like these that fill the soul unlike anything a schedule could ever bring.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"Come as you are, Jewel." "It's what my heart longs for."</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> I hear Him say.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">His Spirit indwells us. He said He had to leave in order for something better to come to us. Yet far too often I've not even allowed this Guide inside me to invite me into the moments of the impromptu. I've met requirements for the better part of my life. Intimacy, true deep heart igniting intimacy, has been held back. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's in the moments that my heart cries out to "be" with Him that I am finding a love that leaves me undone. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">For in those moments, those beautiful moments I see that all He ever wanted was for me to come as my heart beckoned me. It's in that place I find the sheer pleasure of His delight. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As I relish the impromptu moments of with my children it's then I see, so does He.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I really am the image of God. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">©copyrighted: 2010; Julie L. Todd</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13553121852669901186noreply@blogger.com14