DebraBee

His voice is talking to me. I sit on the floor listening carefully. I cannot grasp the understanding he wants me to know. His words fill the air with questions designed to probe my knowledge. Inwardly I begin to feel unrest at what I hear. I watch and I wait for comprehension. The tangled web of a man’s logic begins to unravel itself before me.

It’s time to dance. The singing within my spirit woos me into motion. I try to be gentle and kind. As the pace of conversation increases, so does the zeal in my heart. I long for maturity beyond my years. The sword I wield is mighty. He carries one too. As we unsheathe the weapons of warfare, I can see one to be dark and one to be light. I do not want to do this, yet I cannot stop what has begun.

My physical body aches and I want to quit. The hours go on. I need love beyond what I know. Pride tries to attach itself to my thoughts. I begin to dissuade it from taking root with a language I cannot understand. Over and over we tangle our swords together. My spirit speaks to me, “And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.” I myself cannot do anything to bring light to his heart. He must want of it himself. It’s time to put my sword away in front of him.

Hours later I get my sword out again and go to warfare on his behalf.

Scripture John 1:5

As the pain pierces my heart, outwardly my emotions become messy. I cannot fix what is broken. It’s not in my power to do so. I stand still as the wake washes over me. The temptation has come and I fall into its maw once more. My eyes have been pulled downward and backwards to watch again the things I can never change.

He loves me too much to do nothing. He gathers tools into his bag and pulls me out into the night. I ask him where he is taking me. With a look of determination upon his face he simply says he has a place in mind. The road twists and turns. I feel distant in my thoughts. We begin to climb upward. My breathing becomes steadied. I can finally see more than my pain and search with my eyes for our destination. I have never been here before.

He tucks the vehicle into the hillside. His eyes are twinkling for what he wants to share. I get out following where he leads me. He tells me he has thought I could bring a friend here to pray over the city from a view I have never seen. It takes my breath away to see all the lights below. I put myself on the rail to look for a while.

Thoughts of my Father begin to bind up my inner wounds. How much Father loves me to show me beauty when the darkness wanted to engulf me. How beautiful Father is to show Himself tender and kind through the willing heart of my husband. His mercy fills me in ways I cannot comprehend. I want more.

The best days I could have are the ones given away to the Lord’s loved ones. A silent satisfaction fills my heart. I have been offered an understanding to move into areas of unselfishness where I have never been before. What more awaits me as I dive deeper?

The voice of Jesus roars, sounding loud in the atmosphere for the passion of His heart. It has never changed; the poor, fatherless, widows, downtrodden, lost, broken and so many more. I need not rewrite what has already been written. Our ears need to be fine-tuned in hearing this frequency. We live influenced by voices, even voices we love, but we need to tune into the only voice which is love.

(Message) Luk 10:30-37  Jesus answered by telling a story. “There was once a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. On the way he was attacked by robbers. They took his clothes, beat him up, and went off leaving him half-dead. Luckily, a priest was on his way down the same road, but when he saw him he angled across to the other side. Then a Levite religious man showed up; he also avoided the injured man. “A Samaritan traveling the road came on him. When he saw the man’s condition, his heart went out to him. He gave him first aid, disinfecting and bandaging his wounds. Then he lifted him onto his donkey, led him to an inn, and made him comfortable. In the morning he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take good care of him. If it costs any more, put it on my bill–I’ll pay you on my way back.’ “What do you think? Which of the three became a neighbor to the man attacked by robbers?” “The one who treated him kindly,” the religion scholar responded. Jesus said, “Go and do the same.”

The coins lay before me on the table. Beside them was my open book of instruction. “For which of you, intending to build a tower does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it.” The coins were only a visual representation of my life and the things I thought of as important. One by one I began to stack them in a tower formation, naming each for what they represented.

Reputation, relationships, finances, comfort, understanding, livelihood, dreams, trust, time, investment, home, safety, control, talents, ambition…the names went on as the stack grew taller. I looked back at my instruction book, “whoever of you does not forsake all that he has cannot be My disciple”.

I lifted my eyes to look at the prize of Jesus and eternal life. Glancing once more at the coins representing my life, I moved my hand to push them off the table. It seemed little enough to offer these things in light of the treasure yet to be had.

* Scriptures Luke 14:28, 33

Beneath the shade of a pine tree, looking over the crowd

On my knees at the top of a hill overlooking the valley

Driving the streets of my city

Standing in a driveway listening with my whole heart

Under the umbrella while the rain pours around me

Pacing back and forth in a kitchen not my own

In an upper room with others

On the stage for a friend’s baptism

These are the places I’ve been in the last week alone, mostly to pray. Sometimes I walk alone. Many times I don’t. Culture defines me as unemployed. God defines me as “laborer”.

Luk 10:2  Then He said to them, “The harvest truly is great, but the laborers are few; therefore pray the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest.”

It was time to visit the high places once more. The air was chilly and I prepared myself for a walk in the rain if needed. In silence I set myself to the short hike. From the hilltop I gazed again at the city I loved with compassion. I made my way to the bronze plaque with a picture of a plowman acknowledging the pioneers who came before. Walking back toward the tree, I set myself upon a rock in the sun.

I didn’t have a whole lot of words. I knew I didn’t need them. The clouds at my back were dark and ominous, but before me the sun promised warmth and comfort. I let my mind rest in this peaceful moment, allowing my heart to cry out instead. Looking below me, I silently asked for hope to fill our streets.

I wasn’t ready to leave, yet I knew there was another high place I had to visit. Once in my car again, I turned it around to go in the opposite direction for where I was. Reaching another hilltop I walked this familiar ground speaking the desires of my Father.

Before I had gone to pray for my city, I had been feeling anxiety for my personal needs. Now driving home, I recognized that as I had tended my Father’s work, He had tended my heart to remove the anxiety and fill me with peace. Tears of gratitude began to wash my cheeks.

Ever wonder if everyone thinks you are crazy? What a relief when you finally realize you are and can get on with living that life others think is so crazy. Jesus laid out a roadmap to follow that was pretty serious. He said, “And you will be hated by all for My name’s sake. But he who endures to the end will be saved.” He also said, “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me.”

What radical statements to make if you were trying to build up a following. But that’s the kind of King He was, and is. He’s not looking for the crowds. He’s looking for those who will really follow Him.

We should really be paying attention to this concept in the Word.

* Scriptures Matt 10:22, 16:24

Listening to the rushing water, I let my eyes wander the landscape. Across the way was a tiny hidden spring adding to the water pool. Compared to the creek and lake this small spring was a mere steady water hose. Yet here it was adding itself to the larger bodies of rushing water. As I watched it I began to think of the many tiny springs which pour out diligently to keep the waters flowing.

I closed my eyes and thanked Jesus. This is an hour in life where there are many hidden springs being poured out for the multitude.

Joh 7:37-38  On the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried out, saying, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink. He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.”

“If you need some help just give me a call.”

Such an easy statement, but do we mean what we say? Are we really the church or do we just play at going to church? We are all different people, but we all read the same book.

Jas 2:14-17 (Message) Dear friends, do you think you’ll get anywhere in this if you learn all the right words but never do anything? Does merely talking about faith indicate that a person really has it? For instance, you come upon an old friend dressed in rags and half-starved and say, “Good morning, friend! Be clothed in Christ! Be filled with the Holy Spirit!” and walk off without providing so much as a coat or a cup of soup–where does that get you? Isn’t it obvious that God-talk without God-acts is outrageous nonsense?