Category: Blog Article

In a day when I didn’t hesitate to do whatever I felt needed to be done, I gutted my brand new truck’s interior, stripping it down to the frame. I ripped out what I considered to be a “cheesy” stock stereo mount and proceeded to take a sawzall to my pristine dashboard. In deliberate action, I pulled out every 22 gauge wire I could find, replacing the entire wiring harness for the sound system. With crossovers, sub woofer and adequate sound dampening, finally the music resonated something close to what I sought.

At the end of this exhaustive endeavor I tested my system with a song loaded heavily for the low end of a bass. Mind you it was a hit song at the time. I can remember playing it repetitively and even falling asleep to it. Eventually this truck was broken into, robbed of every piece of equipment I’d so carefully equipped it with.

All these years later I can’t name the expensive equipment brands I’d installed, but I can still hear the song which played over and over that night…..”is there anything that I would not do, since I’d die without you”. I may have thought I was the one doing the rewiring, but essentially I myself was the one being rewired, even then.

In moving about my small metropolis yesterday, I found myself behind a car with a website advertisement relating to marshmallows. Not your common food group to rally behind but it made me smile in wonder for what it was about. By the time I got home however the thought was gone.

Later in the evening a woman spoke to me of a tenderness I have within “like a marshmallow”. Suddenly I am remembering every marshmallow I’ve ever roasted over campfires in the wilderness. I see the glob of them melted in a cup of hot cocoa. They bring to mind sweetness and moments of enjoyment. They have a pliable texture and are fun to hurl at people knowing you won’t really hurt them.

My husband enjoys marshmallows. I wonder if that’s part of the attraction he has seen in me? I am mentally adding a bag to my grocery list just to surprise him.

The trains whistle as they pass through our populations. I can hear their wheels clattering along the tracks. Time has no meaning to these sounds. Closing my eyes I can imagine them to be making the same sound even a couple hundred years back. These tracks crisscross our nation.

The whistles and wheels seem louder than I’ve ever noticed before. I stop to think of what a train really brings. There is power. There is supply. There is expectation. They also bring people. Weather does not stop them. Traffic is halted at their coming. They are a major resource for our nation.

When I hear these whistles and wheels I know it’s just a natural symptom of something supernaturally coming forth. It’s coming to a city or town you live in. The King is bringing everything we need.

My day of strength is upon me and I feel like I can do anything asked. Now I have to hesitate. A trap is laid before me to go along to do my own working and plans. I’ve been here before. I pause to remember “frail”. Today I remember this is what I am, and in my condition I have my eyes opened. When frail I am not strong. I can easily be broken. I can easily be led astray and be morally weak. I need to go before the throne for any real strength.

The egg lay in the grass, freshly opened, its yolk spilling out. It was rather large and looked like something I’d buy in the store, but here it was up on this hillside, near a little traveled walking path. I wondered at the creature it had meant to be. The promise of a life left to die here in the open sun. This bird would never grow wings or fly the open skies over my head.

The way of nature taught me a deeper lesson. The gift of life promised in every egg. So many children we have yet to meet. So many gifts and promises their lives bring into the world. We deny ourselves when we deny them.

Stirred – to affect strongly; excite, to incite, instigate, or prompt, to rouse from inactivity, quiet, contentment, indifference, to be emotionally moved or strongly affected, to become active, as from some rousing or quickening impulse

Mark sat still and watched from the outer perimeter of where all the action seemed to be happening. The park was brisk with activity late into the night. All around him were youth hungry for something to do. A make shift band were trying to grab the attention of their energy but an underlying vibe seemed to be at work in the crowd.

He watched a young thug type upend his 40 ounce beer and then theatrically crash it down on the cement, exploding it in a spray none seemed to mind. The crowd seemed stirred, desiring more. Mark took notice of the rougher element wanting to make rule of the scene with their antics.

This seemed like a make or break moment. Realizing he could get the crap kicked out of him, he knew these kids didn’t deserve to be given away by his cowardice. One quick prayer he offered, “God, you brought me here tonight so you better have something wonderful to offer!”

Without further hesitation he pulled a flare from his backpack. It seemed crazy but so was this moment. Removing the cap to expose the end of the flare he rubbed the coarse striking surface until it exploded into a bright flame. Everyone standing near him backed away but then started whistling and whooping with cheers of approval.

Mark lit three of these and tossed them about at a fair distance. The crowd focused on him. The band had lost their momentum but came back into the moment with a sound of rhythm. Mark could feel his throat dry up but all eyes were upon him and this radical act. “God what do I say?” he asked.

With courage he’d never known, he stood alone in the crowd. “I am one of you. I am lonely. I have hurt. I have fear. I want more than this existence I am living. I go to parties hoping for some expectation but it leaves me empty beyond a momentary experience. I have drunk and taken drugs looking for that experience and every time I wake up the morning after as though I poured out my soul. I have sought my existence and happiness in others, especially girls. It feels good for a while but then I realize they are looking for something more, just like me. Can I ask you to be honest? Does any one of you feel these things? Is this why you are here?”

An explosive encouragement came from the crowd. The make shift band added to the mix by stirring them up further with their rhythm, declaring the truth of Mark’s statement. With more courage again, Mark spoke once more, “Okay friends, you’ve been honest with your hearts, so let me ask you a bigger question….do you believe Jesus can change your life?”…..

I meet them one at a time, beautiful strangers. I look into their eyes and I wonder, is this one my friend, my sister, my brother? I can miss it now and again, but they will grab me and hold me tight. Hugging me; whispering private words of encouragement into my ear.

Where do they come from? Who are they? I ache for the truth of eternity to come. I look forward to living where time is irrelevant. I desire really coming to know each of these precious ones.

The man’s cat can smell weakness and I am prey for his wanting to be petted. He has followed me everywhere in the house the last couple days. He knows eventually I will lay still to rest. This is when he makes his move to come hug up near my body and head butt my hand until he is satisfactorily scratched.

I can only wonder at how aggressive he might be if he were, say hungry?

My sunglasses hid my eyes and I couldn’t wait to walk away from my friend. Saying goodbye, I made my way back to the table where my books lay. The rush of my emotions hit me and I walked to the edge of the hill over looking my city.

I had spoken aloud so many promises, declaring them over and over. It was time to see them come to fruition. Tears came as I let my Father know how weak I felt in this moment. I myself had nothing to give but He has everything. I wanted to see heaven upon the earth.

For now I wrap myself up to be hidden in His bosom and remember how he cradles me in His arms. I need His strength for this day.

Deu 33:12……”Let the beloved of the LORD rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the LORD loves rests between his shoulders.”

A conversation with a friend left me in a place of rechecking my commitments. He shared how at the beginning of this trying season, he could number those who confessed to be in the journey with him at about a hundred. Today he put that number at two; myself to be one of the two.

My heart felt a convicting jolt at that information. In my confession, I knew I had wanted to falter when the burden seemed heavy and wearisome. My own pressures and troubles have tested me to want to back away and say, “dude, I get it but I have my own problems”.

Slamming up against that struggle creates in me tension to do something against my soul’s desire. My soul keeps saying, “hold onto what you have and take care of yourself” but my spirit says, “give yourself away to help another”. The words of my teacher ring in my ears…”Are you all in? Do you want to be among those counted?”

I can’t hedge on my bet so I have to say, “I’m all in, regardless!” It’s time to be counted as living for Christ.

Act 4:32  The whole congregation of believers was united as one–one heart, one mind! They didn’t even claim ownership of their own possessions. No one said, “That’s mine; you can’t have it.” They shared everything.