Category: Blog Article

I was looking at my friend across the room. She doesn’t know how I’ve watched her. She doesn’t know the number of times I have thought about her. She doesn’t know when I’ve prayed for her. A lyric plays in my mind,“I woke up in love this morning”,  from some old song. She is the epitome of that very thought! She literally seems to have awakened from a slumber so in love she glows.

Her smile lights up the rooms she steps into. Her hugs break down every wall of discomfort. She is genuine. She is unique. She is walking love released upon the world.

“dying is easy, it’s living that scares me”*

Provoking thought! I wanted to define what this meant. I realized however it’s not for me to define a thing. This provocation is different for everyone.

* Lyrics from Cold by Annie Lennox

Encouragement is such a great thing to receive, especially as children. We live in a generation where damage to self-esteem has dug deep wells in most people. Sadly many cannot get out of these wells because they don’t have family or friends offering ropes of deliverance.

What could you be if encouraged enough to come out of your well of depression, sadness, loneliness or boredom? What might someone else become if you took the time to help them climb from the depths of a deep well? A well where they have been so long as to forget talents and dreams; a well where they forget what it’s like to be loved and enjoyed?

What could be built into one another if we took the time to offer ropes of encouragement? I often see native artwork of tiny rope strands intertwined into hoops. They are called “dream catchers”. Spiritually they represent a counterfeit to truth. It’s our love for each other that make the strands. Our intertwined love captures the real dream of us all by encouraging each of us to be who we were born to be.

I kept turning the gemstone over and over in my hand. My phones had been ringing off the hook, my email was pinging at me for an answer and I had a knock on the office door. So many wanted attention. What could I possibly give any of them? Inwardly I pressed down the desire to run away. One by one I began to address each, never letting go of the gem in my hand. It was a promise I needed to hold onto.

The busyness eventually settled down and I could be alone again. I picked up the gem looking at all its facets. It felt solid in my hand and I loved how it refracted light. I sighed at the peace it brought me. To know this is exactly how my Father sees me; a treasure and precious gem. Even in the middle of feeling like I have nothing to offer, He sees my beauty and keeps asking me to share it with others.

Tuck me away into the depths of Your heart. Enjoy me openly, but save me most to enjoy apart and separated. Let your private laughter tickle my ears. Share Your secrets, let me relish in keeping them. Let me touch the wounds of Your heart, but first give me the strength it will take to feel them.

He sits in the crowd
Being alone
Waiting for the hour to come

He searches each face
Looking for love
Waiting for the hour to come

He rises high above them
High above them
He says look at me
Won’t you see
The hour that has to come

The north winds pushed hard against me, chilling and hurting my exposed face. It was difficult to focus my eyes upon the promises, but determinedly I looked into them once more. I wandered my hidden garden, seeing plants yet to bloom. Their buds were still in protective coverings of branches, bushes and soils. I walked the generous grounds being careful not to step too quickly. I would not overlook any measure of my inheritance. Here and there I stopped to caress the seeds planted from my heart, blowing warm breath upon them. I hummed the song again.

Making my way to the center of this secret place, I came to rest. Lying down, I wrapped myself into the warm folds of His love, waiting. I knew the south winds would come to blow upon my garden; that its spices would flow out. My beloved would come to His garden and eat its pleasant fruits.

The great hope within longed for inspiration. She was starving for goodness and sought among the people, like hearts to move in kindness. Mercy needed a voice to shout from the rooftops so all could hear and come nearer for its truth. Darkness kept trying to move closer but the brilliant light invaded its space. Shadows could not hide and were exposed, disappearing. Her beating heart felt as though it might leap from her chest. With searching eyes she looked outward. The needs were great but He was greater. It was time to declare her witness. It was time to die for the multitude.

I read the words over and over, “The harvest truly is great, but the laborers are few”. Tilting my head back I closed my eyes preventing tears from dropping onto the pages. How could it be that so few would labor for the promise of eternity? I reached for my cup of tea, taking a small sip of the hot liquid. I gazed out the window letting the words work in me. Was I really willing to be one of the “few” spoken of?

In the quiet I could hear a clock ticking on my desk. Time was quickly passing and so many falsely believed they had plenty of it. It was time to get busy.

* Luke 10:2

I lay still in the early morning. Most days I would chase the sunrise, but my heart felt tender and soft. Any gentle breeze might stir my emotions. Quieting my mind, I listened to the ambient sounds while pulling a pillow closer to my face. The room grew brighter with the daylight. A song began to play in my mind…“can you hear me, is someone there, am I losing my mind, am I losing my mind, am I all alone, won’t you rescue me, talking to myself, staring at the sea”.

Taking a deep breath I could feel the heaviness of those who had no hope. I grabbed once more for the truth and began to fight for them.