Author: debrabee

The pale gold grass was now waist high as I walked the dirt trail. Stopping for a moment I took in the view of this small valley. Standing in the heat of the sun I could feel the tears drying up leaving just the salt drops on the inside of my sun glasses. It was good to be in the breeze cooling me off.

My husband back tracked to come find me and led the way up into the tree canopy where we walked silently in the shade for a while. He knows I don’t always need words to comfort me. We stopped on the trail to sit on some tree stumps and listened to the birds and the crickets. I had brought my bible with me and opened it to read aloud for a bit, remembering the treasure I carry in my earthen clay jar. Such moments help me quiet my inner storms.

I need to preface this article with a truth. I come from a place of real pain and real hurt; yep, the real world, just like most of those whom I desire to reach. For my brothers and sisters who currently are walking in deliverance, I’d ask for some understanding for those who still need to “relate”.

Several years back I was drawn to this song which even today, I can remember where I was when it first penetrated my brain. I was sitting in my car at some truckstop that no longer exists, and I had a deep feeling of frustration in wanting to believe there was more to life than what I was living. There had to be more, but my circumstances only made me feel the frustration. I sat in the front seat of my vehicle with the volume turned up enough to equate with the angst in my soul! With all my heart I heard these words and sang aloud with them, especially……”save me!”

I only share them because today, I am saved! I know there are so many others who are just as frustrated as I was who are searching for what I found. I know they too are listening to whatever music fuels their angst and frustration. My thought is that if I happen to walk past that car spilling out a noise, I will recognize a chance to offer a word or prayer of the hope I now have within myself. I especially want to recognize the opportunity not to judge, but remember myself sitting in that front seat longing so desperately for there to be more about this life.

Man In The Box – Alice In Chains

I’m the man in the box
Buried in my shit
Won’t you come and save me, save me

Chorus
Feed my eyes, can you sew them shut?
Jesus Christ, deny your maker
He who tries, will be wasted
Feed my eyes now you’ve sewn them shut

I’m the dog who gets beat
Shove my nose in shit
Won’t you come and save me, save me

Lately I keep grabbing the guitars to play what few chords I know. My fingertips feel it, but there is something soothing in playing music notes when you can’t define the thoughts in your head. I suppose it’s like a good rock tune on a long and winding road without any traffic to annoy you; doesn’t really matter if the song ever quits because it just “feels good”. My playing is a reflection of my thoughts, undefined and not necessarily coherent. Not my talent but certainly a tool for mood.

I count myself lucky to have outlets for the flooding going on in my head. I have plenty enough to keep me occupied, but often times I am taken away to wondering about those around me. No matter how much I want to help another, the simple fact of life is that I don’t always have the evident solutions for what is needed every moment. I know I have the final answer but sometimes knowing the outcome doesn’t always comfort one in the storm of the moment.

I need to strum some more!

I’ve had some time to contemplate people I’ve met and I find myself wondering about them in the quiet moments. I can’t say I even know all their names, but still I can remember their faces or something about them that stays with me. It’s funny how we can make an impression upon one another within mere moments.  I used to wonder why, but now I just sense there is something special about them and I want to know more.

My life on this planet is too short to really “know” everyone who makes an impression upon me, so I’ve had to learn a deeper understanding that can sometimes hurt. Who to invest time into? I had never really given this much conscious thought until I started to get to know the heart of someone I think of as a dear friend. Perhaps I had done this on some subconscious level, but when you start making conscious choices about your time, and who you will spend it with, suddenly every choice matters.

More importantly, is to realize how much time matters. I don’t always choose the people I spend time with, because honestly, I would always choose those whom I already love and care about. Instead I am moved by my Father’s love to tell me who is important to Him. Because I love His heart, I am moved to invest in these “strangers who made an impression”. I am never disappointed by any of them, my Father always chooses wisely.

I was at an all day music festival on Saturday and as much as I loved the music, it was the people I met who really captured my heart. I am always fascinated by the variety of personalities I get to meet, even if only for a few minutes. My favorite moments were watching the reactions of children.

A friend of mine gives away colorful beaded bracelets as a reminder of how we are saved by Jesus dying upon the cross. Each time he would put one of these on a young child’s wrist and tell the story of what each bead represented, I was astonished by one consistency. Every child knew the name Jesus! But it wasn’t that they knew His name that caught my attention, it was the enthusiasm in which they would yell it out.

I have to say it made me hunger for a response in my own relationship that is as innocent and zealous as these young ones!

As much as I love to write, I know it’s not my words that will change anyone’s life. It’s my actions that will witness most who I am. If I tell someone I love them but cannot put my arms around them or help them in a tangible way, than what good are even the sincerest of words?

I ache for us to quit being people who hear and speak of love and let’s just get out of our seats and be love in action.

See me doing something right

See me pouring out my life

Can I brag

Shall I share

I’m sorry Father

Hide me!

All glory belongs to You

As the days grow longer and the heat climbs I feel a hunger to take a road trip. A hobby of mine is to capture photos of roads while mentally I wonder where they lead. Life itself is such a journey and I suspect if we could see too far down the road we may hesitate to keep moving. By only seeing some of the trials on the route our eyes forget to focus on the final destination.