Never Retired

You are not forgotten—Ever! And in His Kingdom you are never retired or put out to pasture or wheeled away to some forgotten room. Heavens No!

The power of Christ still courses strongly through your being, as it did when you were a younger, fiery brand. He wants you still to partner with Him, if you will . . . if you care to . . . if you"ll let Him. 

There are still sick to be healed and dead to be raised and discouraged ones to be lifted up by the prophetic words Holy Spirit gives you. Your latter light shall be brighter than your former . . . if you will, if you care to . . . it's not over yet.

Artwork: A Helping Hand by Carts

A Light by Which to Walk

Another change. Another move. But, “Trust in God!” I tell my soul. “Soul,” I say, “do not forget how faithful is our God!

“Though dim the night, it shall be turned to brightest light. For so God said,” and still I’m speaking to my soul, “so He said that I was not to kindle my own fire to make a light by which to walk. No, indeed!

“A fire that I should light would steal away my peace when I lie down to rest. So, soul,” still speaking sternly to my inner self that sometimes struggles when the path gets dark, “just wait till He, himself, brings light upon the path you walk.”

Artwork: Pilgrim in a Rocky Valley by Carl Gustav Carus

A Pauper No Longer

I am learning. It has been hard to learn this truth, for the world and circumstance and the enemy of our souls all work together to keep it from us. But I’ve been learning . . . yes, I have.

I have been learning a truth that has changed my life, my views, my interactions with others, and my love for my dearest Father God. What truth! What long lost revelation that has begun to free me, inspire me, and help me walk a higher walk.

And so the truth is this: . . . I am royalty. Because of Christ and his death upon the cross I have been adopted into a royal family. Hah! I am a pauper no longer. I AM ROYALTY!!!

 . . . and I am learning to behave as such.

 Artwork: Night by Edward Robert Hughes

Stirs to Wake

I breathe. I breathe in deep . . . it’s like the wind . . . it’s like a fragrance that stirs to wake.

Oh, yes, that is Him. I know Him well. I know His scent. It smells like life!

And this fresh breeze that I so love to linger in, and breathe in deep, and smile at as it blows about me, is something that I cannot live without . . . His presence.

Artwork: Desert Wind © Rob Chiu
http://www.flickr.com/photos/theronin/

Child-like Clean

Are you surprised at how it feels, dear one? Are you surprised at the lightness of it? The washed-in-fresh-water sensation of it?

Now you know the power of His blood. Now you know how well it washes clean till all the grime of sin is gone and like a child the innocence is back.

Child-like faith, child-like hope, child-like clean again! And to think that you did not believe in second chances . . . well, you were wrong.

Artwork: Evening by Maxfield Parrish

Thousands of Glorious Cheers

Three cheers for Iceland! Or rather thousands of glorious cheers.

Iceland imprisoned its bankers. Iceland put its people first. Iceland refused to save the banks and it allowed them to fail! Hooray for such a courageous folk!

And what of Iceland now? Iceland’s economy is growing fast; faster than the U.S. and Europe. The government created better banks and forgave the people much of their debt. The brave, fighting folk of the cold north are wise, with wiser leaders than we have in the United States.

Remember us, Iceland, as we begin our fight . . . for we shall remember you and your great victory and it shall help us in our own dark night. 

Photograph: handcuffed man, unknown; Iceland, unknown

Left to Fight Alone

Gather them up, sweet little souls each one. Gather them up and heaven-bound we go. Cloak is full and, still, there are more to gather in. Millions more!

There is a war against your small sweet lives; there is a war because you have an enemy who hates you.
 
Abused, abandoned, trafficked, murdered in your mothers’ bellies even—a thousand different ways you have been harmed across this wide earth, because of why? Because satan is afraid of you. Because satan hates the One who has created you. Because you might possibly become a follower of Him who is beloved above all. And if you did, the light in you would be far more powerful than the darkness in this world.

But mothers and fathers have been blinded to this war . . . so you are left to fight alone.

Artwork: Field of the Slain by De Morgan

Chubby Cherubs?

They are an army, you know. Or perhaps you didn’t know. Perhaps you thought they were just sweet chubby cherubs. Or a group of soft-voiced warblers of some unearthly choir that like to wile away their time, singing. Or kindly helpers to us humans that beckon from a 4th dimension. Do you know what angels are? Do you know more than the imaginary stories of movies and TV?

They are the warring, fearless, deeply devoted armies of heaven. They are lovers of God’s Son, Christ, and obey Him alone. Men like to talk of them, but hate to speak about the One they serve. But the name of Jesus is always on their lips.

Courageous. Honorable. Terrifying. Beautiful. All and more.

Chubby Cherubs? . . . hardly.

Artwork: Angel Army, unknown

The Right to Speak

So, Dan Cathy of Chick-fil-a has a mind of his own? Has a conscience alive and well to which he answers to? Believes in a loving God who has placed marriage solely in a covenant between a man and a woman?

Oh, dear. What horror! How dare he love a wondrous God who loves him dearly back and thus he wants to think like Him and live with a mind renewed and a lifestyle that reflects His righteousness.

How dare Dan Cathy show the courage to speak what he believes, loud and clear, for all to hear. Insupportable! Insufferable! Not to be tolerated (say those who speak of tolerance the loudest!) This is America! No man shall EVER have the right to speak his mind.

Dan Cathy . . . I applaud you for it!

Photograph: tape over mouth, unknown

A Good Roar

It was louder than the wind. Louder than the thunder even.

It blasted 'cross the heavens like a cannon ball in answer to the prayers of saints. And those minions of the dark gasped in one united breath whilst the chains of captives broke like twigs shattered by a mighty wind.

And when I heard it, I laughed. I could not help but laugh, for He so enjoyed it. The Lion of Judah loves a good roar!

Photograph: lion, unknown

Never Stop Drinking!

Fire that is all-consuming . . . Water that comes from an eternal well . . . mixed together . . . stirred up. Now . . .

Drink deep.

Guaranteed to change things forever: love will burn more deeply; the heart will beat with greater strength; the vision will expand to see what heaven sees. And best of all—lost ones will be found and healed and saved.

Never stop drinking!

Photograph: water and fire in glass, unknown

Clinging To it Bravely

You’re doing well, dear friend. You’ve not fallen yet—and you won’t, for the Lord is able to keep you standing. Their weapons formed against you will not prosper, not even their words. Though they should come at you from every side when you feel weakest—hold fast just as you are doing!

You know the secret, for I see you clinging to it bravely. And though I see you are alarmed . . . don’t be. Christ before, Christ behind, Christ below, and Christ above—so you are surrounded by the refuge that He is. Don’t forget. Remind your soul constantly: In this darkening world you are not alone.

. . . and you have an enemy who hates that truth.

Artwork: © Tristan Elwell

http://www.tristanelwell.com/

A Basket Full of Lovelies

My basket’s getting full—almost over-flowing-full. I’ve been told that I can pick whatever I see, whatever fair and fragrant thing my eye should set upon. I’ve been told that it’s okay to pick these things because He’s given them to me. And He’s given me the eyes to see them.

Oh, there have been some who’ve tried to dissuade me of doing this. But I am stubborn. I believe that time in my garden with Him is never wasted. And I do my best to not pick bitter thorns. Bitter thorns are not what God intends for us.

NO to thorns and weeds and strangling vines, ALL of them! He has planted things in my garden . . . and watered . . . and weeded regularly (sometimes painfully), but always with the intent to reap a basket full of lovelies.

Artwork: Betty’s Posy Shop by Jessie Wilcox-Smith

Love Came Down

Love came down. Not in the way many believed it should look like. But love came down in the midst of men and took the sins that all of us are guilty of, upon Himself.

Love was bruised. And it was love that spread His arms in quiet submission and took the nails. And then love did something that no one else could ever do—He rose up from the grave and conquered death forever.

Such love is very powerful. Such love is worth giving up all for. Islam, Buddhism, Ba-haiism, Hinduism . . . none of these could ever offer such love as this. I, for one, am a soul that has been undone by it.

Artwork: Allegory of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ © Patrick Devonas
http://www.patrickdevonas.com/

I Heard it Laugh

I thought it was a sheep. I did. I thought it was a gentle, loving sheep . . . until I heard it laugh. And then I knew—it was a wolf.

Only wolves can laugh like that: A derisive, shallow, gloating kind of sound. It stood tall over the broken creature that was curled up beneath it and it laughed.

The laugh is what gave it away, for a sheep could never laugh over a wounded one. A sheep has too loving of a heart. The sound grieved my heart for I knew from what pit the laugh had come. And I knew what influence the wolf was under.

And when the wolf laughed, I heard the darkest sound. I heard the sound of all hell laughing with it.

Artwork: Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing by artist unknown

Not Angels

We are the object of your affection. Not angels. Not animals. Not all the stars. Not even earth with all its varied beauty. But we are whom you’ve chosen to lavish love upon.

You, the infinite God of the universe have set your infinite love and desire on one thing . . . mankind. Outside of yourself, you have chosen humanity as the greatest source of your pleasure.

And further still, you gave your own son to make a way for us to have relationship. You wanted us that much! . . . my Glorious One, I am left speechless.

Artwork: Triumph of Light by Matsch

Bright With Life

“Look at all of them!”
“They shine very lovely, don’t you think?”
“They’re amazing. I never knew that words of life were so . . . so bright with life.”
“Quick, look now!”
“Ahhh, she’s speaking forth a new one. And what exactly is it?”
“It’s a declaration of What is Not as if it Were.”
“And can they really change so much? They are so—simple after all.”
“Very much, in fact.”
“Then why do they not all do it?”
“For they’ve not all learned. Some don’t believe that such a little act can be important.”
“Well, I think this one shall never stop.”
“Yes, once they learn they get quite excited at the results.”
“You know, if they all did it, those life-lit words might just fill the earth.”
“That is the intended result. He means for them to fill the earth . . . and transform everything.”

Artwork: Little Girl Sitting in Field with Fireflies © Mike Elliott

Just Walk

So you made it out the door. That’s a start—But what next? Will you stand there forever, staring out across that flat plain because you are hesitant to take a step out into a wide place? No, that isn’t you. I know you and I know that is not who you are made to be.

You are not timid. You have His power dwelling in you. You have ALL of heaven backing you up. You have an army of angels walking with you. You told me those very same things once.

So now, take a deep breath. One. Two. Three. . . . and just walk. Everything happens after that first step.

Artwork: © Glenn Harrington

http://www.glennharrington.com/biography.html

Your Father's Rage

Dear angry one,

I see your father’s shadow standing there behind you, a figment of the past that haunts. I see what he has given you each time the anger rises up and twists your face into a mask that’s dark. It is inherited, you see.

When just a child you received the brunt of all your father’s rage. Not right. Not love. Not anything remotely like our heavenly Father’s heart. And you are bound to it yet still; for every time a wound is touched the anger burns within your eyes and comes screaming out in words that shock.

But there is hope. Jesus, fierce lion-lamb, can set you free from the prison that your father placed you in . . . Forgiveness is the key He uses.

Artwork: © Robert Hunt

http://www.roberthuntstudio.com/roberthuntstudio.com.html

Pulling Heaven Down

I feel it . . . I feel it in the air . . . Whoo-hoo!

It’s a wonderful thing when heaven touches earth. It’s exciting to see the change—to even feel it. Holy Spirit blows it in . . . from where? I do not know. From wherever God keeps the winds all stored up, I suppose. Heaven is invading earth through those He calls His children—the adopted ones—the ones who call upon His name and love Him dearly.

I’m pulling it down. Right here. Right where I stand. I’m pulling heaven down! . . . And tranformation, healing, love, and life and all that is in heaven is being pulled down with it.

Artwork: Undine in the Wind by Arthur Rackham

Little Lambs Behind You

Little lamb, do you not know what influence you have had? You think—“I have no influence on any. I have led a quiet life.”—but you do not realize the ones that you have touched. Those seeds that you have planted in hearts along the way have been slowly growing. And little have you known it.

But look! Here they come. One here; one there; they each remember, you know. They remember words you’ve spoken and quiet deeds you’ve done, and through the years the seeds have grown and they’re now thirsty for the water that brings life. And you have led them to it.

Here come more little lambs behind you!

Artwork: The Oasis © Robert Ryan
http://www.oisingallery.com/ArtistsPaintings.asp?ArtistID=730&view=all