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God-lover, singer, poet, writer, friend.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

An Angel With One Wing

An angel with one wing - that would be me if I were an angel. Crippled, sometimes failing, never perfect, but always trying to fly straight . . . yes, that is me. I admit to it. I am one of Jesus’ imperfect followers. He is my crutch. I am not ashamed to say it. I could not walk, let alone run, without Him holding me up. I’ve not the wisdom to plan my life out and to actually go in the right direction without His hand guiding me.

I drink wine (Legalists beware of me!). I dance when worshipping Him (Protestants close your eyes!). I do not believe I need a priest to confess my sins (Catholics, I am sorry).


I am me. An ally of liberty, staunchly opposed to pointless rules that some think prove my righteousness, a lover of the Beloved One, and a flawed earthen vessel that surprisingly doesn’t explode when filled with His Glory.

Yes, that about sums it up . . . I’m an angel with only one wing.


Artwork: Sleeper Lost in Dreams © 2008 James Christensen
http://www.greenwichworkshop.com/christensen/

Monday, November 27, 2006

A Thousand Tons of Water

I was angry, angry at God just yesterday. It had been building up, but I pressed it down and tried to act like a good little girl; it didn’t work; it never does. In a stormy meltdown of tears and angry questions it broke loose from me. I held it in thinking I could not be honest with Him, but He urged me on. He told me He wants nothing less than honesty. In fact, only an honest person can ever find healing, salvation, or release from that which chains him.

So out it came—my pain at being left in a wilderness for far too long, my anger at His seeming lack of concern for it, and my confusion at how unjust God can seem to be. Out it poured like a thousand tons of water plummeting off a cliff . . . and then came peace.

When all was done He told me that He loved me, and I realized afresh that I could trust Him . . . I could be real even with the ugly things. He's big enough to handle it.


Artwork: Medusa or the Angry Wave by Levy-Dhurmer

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Gods In Their Own Right

Wiccans worship nature. To the elemental spirits of the universe they bow, the lower demons inhabiting the realm of earth. But the Creator they ignore. They lust for the power to become gods in their own right.

Wiccans practice witchcraft . . . and they call it good. They cast their spells . . . and think that they are powerful. They study ancient Druid rights . . . and call it their enlightment. While darkness cloaks their minds and deeper still it grows with every passing day.

The craft has always been among us. Every culture has its demon worship from Druids to the voodoo doctors of today. If only they would lift their eyes and look up higher they would see the One whose Glory outshines a thousand suns, and never again could they worship the meager moon, the lowly trees, or the ridiculous demons who flee at the name of Christ.


Artwork: Sacred Wood by Arnold Bocklin

Glory Warms My Limbs

He delights in me! I have a God in heaven whose thoughts toward me are too numerous to count. He says I’m the apple of His eye. He loves my company and only wishes I would spend more time with Him. Even when I sin, a sometimes faithless one, He loves me. The Beloved One, my truest friend, my advocate, my steadfast ally, looks down upon me and His Glory warms my limbs as the midday sun and makes me smile.

And this brash love, this outrageous passion that He has for me, He extends to all. I wish the world to know that the only life worth living is found in Christ . . . can you imagine being loved like this? It is beyond imagination.


Artwork: Ecstasy by Maxfield Parrish

Friday, November 10, 2006

Now Comes The Time

And now comes the time for women. Yes, God created men and women to co-rule this earth. The fall of man perverted rulership and so caused men to rule over women. It was never meant to be. Both were created equal in His image. And now finally we see God bringing us full circle, back to what He originally intended. It took 2000 years since Christ to get us here, but we are here.

Arise women, gentle souls, mighty warriors, anointed for such a time as this. Neither male or female are found in Christ - all are free, all are redeemed and given the power to have co-dominion over the earth again. Rise up you women leaders, evangelists and teachers, and take your rightful place beside your brothers in this day.

Walk in liberty in the gifting that He’s given you. And if they throw you out? If they attempt to stone you with their words, do not dismay . . . they did the same to Christ. You are in good company!


Artwork: Anna of the Celts © 2008 Dean Morrissey
http://www.greenwichworkshop.com/studio/studio_artist.asp?artistid=222

Friday, November 03, 2006

Try To Take Over the World

Pinky and the Brain had it right. The goal today is like every day: TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD! For the sake of Christ we go forth with love and humility. Our goal? To take over the world for the one who suffered and died for it.

No half-way commitment will do. No frightened, shriveling soldiers will suffice. No water-downed belief system will carry through. No hard-edged, merciless religion will work. It is His grace, His love, and His power that we must have.

Try to take over the world! Have you ever thought about it? One heart at a time they use to say, but it shall be thousands of hearts at a time now. They shall come pouring into the Kingdom like a flood and we will lay the world at His holy feet.


Artwork: Pinky and the Brain

Dream-giver

Dream away, dear one, for dreams are the language that He loves to use. And He will tell you what they mean if you seek. The Holy Spirit reveals to us hidden things we do not know. In your sleep He speaks. God: Dream-giver and Dream-guider. 25% of the bible is stories based around dreams. It’s nothing new to Him.

Is it so strange that a supernatural God would choose to speak to us in signs and symbols? Our brains are busy all day long. Busy, tired, distracted in the day; but in the night hours, quiet. What a perfect time to speak. What a perfect time to reach down to us fragmented individuals and whisper in our ears. A tender Papa touching us on the cheek as we lay deep in nighttime reverie. Listen to what He says. Write it down; ask Him of its meaning. Christ is the one who gave the dream, He will most certainly answer.


Artwork: Dreams in Gold © 2008 Morgan Weistling
http://www.morganweistling.com