Category: Blog Article

The plan had obviously gone left and I just rolled with the outcome…

We stood on the porch of a stranger’s house. A new acquaintance was sharing what he had to say and we tried to focus on what he was speaking. Once he began to repeat his information, I mentally left for a bit, trusting my friend to keep her focus on him. Looking out onto the street, I saw my car idling. It couldn’t go anywhere until I gave it direction with steering.

Looking back at this man, he had a ministry. He too was a car needing direction. He was a spiritual father. He desired prayer and for the next few minutes that’s what we did. He was different from my friend and I, yet here we were, standing together in unity.

Later when I was alone, my attention was drawn to an old song….”maybe someday we will find, that it wasn’t really wasted time”.

Closing my eyes, I could envision a plane flying in and out of the white clouds dotting the sky. The plane was an old style biplane with a seat in the open air to feel the wind rush against my face. I was both inside and outside of the plane, flying it and observing it being flown.

The land below was a tapestry of fields. Different shapes and sizes made them look like a quilt of beautiful design. I watched myself rolling and dipping the plane, both rising higher and falling lower. It was a ballet in the deep blue around me. I alone was the dancer and I could feel my Father’s eyes upon me.

I listened to music softly playing. I could hear it as a choreographed complement to my every maneuver. The beauty was indescribable and looking into the horizon I could see no boundaries, only more sky to explore.

Opening my eyes, I was once more before my journal holding my pen. The sensation of flying lingered and reaching up my hand, I could feel the wetness upon my cheeks. I longed to go back again into the depths of that blue horizon….

Moments are fleeting
Time runs away
How do I save right now

A pen won’t write fast enough
My memory fades
How do I save right now

I fall down on my knees
Asking the questions
How do I save right now

The children played in the sandbox. In this box, they learned about the boundaries of where they were allowed to go. Space was limited and they had to share the resource of sand, so they minimized their dreams for what they wanted to build.

In time the children grew to be adults. Some learned to think outside the box, others still lived in that place of childhood limitations.

How may I serve you?

Friends who love me, have given me news clippings for how I can make this talent work for me. I adore them and how they look out for my own interests. Each time I read about what I can do to generate profits, I come to the same conclusion. The price is too high.

“But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for”…I appreciate the truth shared from others around me. I understand what they are speaking. The honesty of heart is refreshing. They aren’t trying to conform to anyone’s idea of what they must believe. This is what I consider to be “good soil”. They are asking questions that matter. They are asking, “God, are you for real?”

This is an inspiration and invitation toward the body of Christ. Why do we believe? What we know is 2Ti 4:2 “Preach the word! Be ready in season and out of season. Convince, rebuke, exhort, with all longsuffering and teaching.”

A question had been upon my heart about what I am meant to be doing. A word given to me was clear about being in a place of rest. Sometimes I don’t know what that looks like, so I inventoried three days of my week so far.

I sat on a rock overlooking my city, sharing and hearing the hearts of a close friend and making a new friend. I drove up north to meet with someone I love, enjoying seeing the hawks watching my journey along the way. I climbed under a bridge to look for the belongings of a friend who sleeps there often. I knelt upon my knees to speak the blessing for one whose feet brings good news. I cried with a friend in my office while sharing music of love. Mostly I prayed with people.

To be at rest looks an awful lot like going where I am led, loving all who are put in my path and listening with a careful heart to hear what is being spoken.

A long while back, I spent an evening in San Francisco enjoying the bay. It was a night of cafés, jazz music and fireworks. At the end of the evening I was drawn into an event of showmanship and temptation. A man trained in the art of cons entertained us with shiny baubles to invest our money in. He started small, minor trinkets, but then wowed us with more expensive items. Teaching us to forget our instincts, we traded what we knew we had for the unknown boxes holding other prizes.

Gaining our trust, he kept drawing us deeper into the gamble we’d keep winning in our financial investment. Eventually we lost sight of his reason to be there. He wanted our money, as much as he could get, and he’d con us with our own greed to get it.

I walked away broke. In my hands I carried a heavy vase I had paid way too much for. Many years have since passed, but I still keep that vase on my mantle as a reminder of the lesson I learned. Our economy reflects this same con daily. I wondered how many foreclosed homes in our own neighborhood it would take before we are awakened to the scheme of greed?

Flipping my hood up over my hair, I made the short walk in the rain to the open rooms. I entered quietly, not making eye contact. All I wanted was to be alone in the presence of the Lord, even while amongst His people. I set my things down and found a far corner to sit. A woman was playing the keyboards. Her voice was so beautiful; I closed my eyes, becoming lost in the songs of love and hope.

Eventually we came together, sharing everything we had to give. Even in places of seeming emptiness, there were deep wells to draw from. Encouragement flowed from the throne room and I swam in its depths. I rarely cried in front of others, yet today I allowed the tears to fall, having no shame in what they exposed of my heart.

Heb 10:24-25  And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works, not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the Day approaching.

I stood over the storm drain just in case. Waves of nausea came and went. I could feel my cheeks continually flush as my body tried to adjust. Over and over I’d left the car to breathe fresh air as my mouth began to water indicatively.

Cigarette butts littered the ground and I let my mind chase the wondering of who had stood here before me? What was on their mind? As my stomach settled, I watched people come and go. My thoughts became engaged with an internal ache of the heart. These people were seeking help financially. I could relate to that need well, but I knew it to be a band-aid is all. Money would never fix the eternal needs. What good was it to seek funds to pay the rent here on earth if you didn’t have a home in heaven?

I bent over again as another wave of nausea came and I noticed the storm drain to be empty beneath the grate. The rain started once more. It wouldn’t be long before the storm drains were filled again with all things to be washed away.