The Rain is Coming

Does it look quiet to you, there on your knees? . . . It's Coming.

Do you feel the expectancy, there on your knees? . . . It's Coming.

Is your vision soaring higher, there on your knees? . . . It's Coming!

Do you feel the drops of water falling on your head, there on your knees? . . . IT'S COMING!!!

STRIKE THE GROUND AGAIN . . . it's coming. THE RAIN IS COMING . . . can you see that small cloud? Revival is coming and righteousness is being raised up.

HE . . . IS . . . SENDING . . . RAAAIIINNNN!!!

Photograph: kneeling in prayer, unknown

Shaken Ever Harder

It is a shaking, and holding on will do no good. It is a rumbling and groaning beneath our feet, our little worlds all torn asunder. And He has done it for a purpose.

All is being shaken ever harder: families, homes, the earth and seas, finances, careers and futures. Everything that cannot stand shall fall - so that what remains can stand, simply and honestly before Him. "Shake all of it!" He commands His angels on the earth. "Until the only thing remaining is a childlike faith, for that is all that can be taken into heaven."

And so it has begun.

Artwork: The Angels of Forgiveness (c) Howard David Johnson
http://www.howarddavidjohnson.com/

Build!

Go forth, Israel, and build. Build! Prosper in the land that God gave you. Do not listen to contrary voices - there are many in the world who love you dearly.

Build in Judea, Samaria, and that beautiful Jerusalem, and make it a pleasant place. You are a sovereign nation and so should behave sovereignly. Stand, and let not the leaders of the free world . . . free world? . . . freedom is something hard to find in Britain; freedom is something lost long ago in the EU . . .nevertheless, let not those who lead under the farce of their freedoms bully you into submission.

Brave Israel, you are not alone.

Artwork: Jerusalem by unknown

History Changer

"He is finally here. Such a little thing, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is."

"Will they realize what a gift he is to them?"

"Some will."

"It is incredible to think all the Glory of Himself is in that tiny frame!"

"I know, and that all the government is upon his innocent shoulders."

"Why would God wish to come into the world this way, to become one of them - to feel what they feel and suffer what they suffer? Do they deserve such a compassionate God?"

"Perhaps not. But then it is love that compels him. And this little babe shall show the world who God is . . . and men shall no longer have any excuse."

"He is a history maker!"

"No, he is a history changer." 

Artwork: Little Lamb (c) Jenedy Paige
http://jenedypaigepaintings.blogspot.com

As Brilliantly as Ever

No government or ideology can ever put out that light. Darkness has tried to overpower its seemingly small flame, but has found that it cannot. Communism tried, but failed. Islam wars against it daily, but cannot rip it from the people's hearts. Even ancient Rome lost their long, hard battle to smother it in their hope that just the stench of ash is all that would remain.

Yet, still it shines as brilliantly as ever . . . and it grows, every moment of the day, across the earth. That is why He came, to shine His light upon every man. It is a light that the darkness shall never overcome, as it spreads from heart to heart to heart, on and on and on . . .

Artwork: Jesus' light, unknown

His Aim is Chains

Beware of the enslavers in the main stream media and the Social Justice Warriors who are not just at all. Stand strong against their fascist tendencies to pressure and bully and shove us all into their thought corral. They wish to enslave us beneath their dictates. Like little emperors they rally their mob-ish troops to lynch their fellow humans who refuse to bow to them.

Stand strong, dear people. Stand fast against their ruthless sway . . . for their aim is chains. They would like nothing more than to see us beaten down and given in; for so they love to stand above and reign.

God loves liberty. He loves the freedom of thought and conscience that He gave us. He refused to enslave us and force us to follow Him. So stand strong, dear people! The Accuser is working overtime to bring his strife, his dark foment . . . for his aim is chains.

Artwork: Ixion by Ribera

The Great Breaking

"What was that sound?"
"It was the sound of the great Breaking."
"The great Breaking?"
"Yes, another chain has broken, another prisoner set free. We can hear it here."
"Every time?"
"Every time."
"And that's why I hear cheering?"
"Aha, yes! There is nothing like the sound of the great Breaking to get everyone rejoicing."
"Wait, there's another one!"
"O, they happen constantly. Sometimes thousands at one time. It's quite magnificent to hear, a cracking through the heavens like a thunderbolt."
"I never imagined it's a thing . . . to be heard."
"O, yes, there are many things we hear up here, which they cannot hear down there."

Artwork: chain breaking, unknown

Their Eyes Do Not Shine

What is it like to have chaos as your close companion? What is it like to have it whisper in your ear each morning upon rising? . . . persistent . . . never ending . . . cajoling until rage has thoroughly taken all command.

Look at them. Their eyes do not shine. They walk with a dreadful weight upon their frame, a cloud that follows overhead. All the time. Always on the brink of storm. How wearying . . . I am so glad I'm not an antifa!

I pray, Father, you help these ones who scream and hate and hurt, who are tossed violently by every wave like ships without an anchor. Help them, please, for they are not a happy people.  

Photograph: antifa protests, unknown

Golden

Here it is, child - your heart made new again. I could not have done it if you had not agreed. I am glad you did. You allowed me to go deeper than I have ever gone before and I have made it golden. What a long journey we have traversed together! Thank you for your trust. Thank you for saying, "Yes."

A strong, loving heart I have restored to you. And now, are you ready for whatever I should bring your way? . . . I think so . . . Yes, I think you are.

Photograph: hand holding heart, unknown

Your Trump Card

Papa God, you did it. You put the man in power that you hand-chose. So many thought it could not be done, forgetting that it's you who decides the fates of nations, who gives and takes away the power of men.

Thank you for your Trump card! Thank you for the hand you played in our country's affairs. Thank you for deciding to put the globalists on "pause" for this next season. You raised up this disrupter, this Cyrus for our modern day, and I am ever thankful to see such mercy showered on us.

Thank you for President Trump, dear Father. My heart is filled with joy to see your hand at play . . . I cannot wait to see the next card that you lay.

Artwork: Trump Card, unknown

Still He Has a Plan

By candlelight, by lamplight, the words came tumbling out. Holy Spirit rested on the men who wrote them. Line by line, thought after thought, Holy Spirit led their pens and hearts to write.

God chose each man for the task, and what a daunting task it was - to found a nation, to write the permanent precepts upon which this nation walks.

For millennia He waited for the moment, the birth to happen, quite excited at the prospect. Like a joyful father who can hardly wait to see his newborn child, every detail He planned out, making sure the birth was not aborted. "It's time!" God roared out across the heavens, and the angels scattered o'er this fledgling land to help.

How God loves this nation! He loved it then, He loves it now, with a love that can't be shaken nor will ever cease . . . and still He has a plan for it.

Artwork: Keeper of the Flame (c) Maureen Thompson
www.maureenthompson.com

Princes, Knights, and Kings

Some say they don't exist . . . yet, I know they do.

I have heard them singing loudly, worshipping with heart abandoned. I have watched them weep when Holy Spirit fell upon them. I have seen them working long, hard days to faithfully provide for wife and children. I have admired them as they knelt in earnest prayer, interceding for another. I have noticed them honoring women as fellow members of the royal court who walk in equal giftedness. I have beheld them loving with wild hearts, unafraid to take that love to pubs to streets to distant lands, fearlessly wielding His light against the darkness. I have seen their warrior, fighting selves suddenly turn gentle when a woman's heart is in their hands, treating it as a treasure that needs to be protected.  

I have met such princes, knights, and kings . . . and I know that they exist.

Artwork: Praying Knight, unknown

Feathers Are a Fortress

I seek it as my shelter. And I recommend the same to any who need shelter. How strange that feathers are a fortress, but so they are. I am delivered from snares when under here . . . and from terror . . . even from destruction that can turn a life into a wasteland.

And here I hope to keep myself, to make it my home, even. Here, under His wings, where He promises it shall always be a refuge . . . covered by feathers . . . the only place in this world that is truly safe.

Artwork: In the Shadow of Your Wings (c) Daniel F. Gerhartz
www.danielgerhartz.com

Halt the Dark

There is a snake loose in our nation, a twisting serpent spirit that's trying to twist everything President Trump says or does. It is a battle between darkness and light, and we must pray, Church, for the President that we elected. All hell is in a rage. They scream! They scheme! They cannot stand that Trump won this election and God put His chosen man in place.

They pound their fists against the light, enraged the more that they cannot pound it into dust. But they cannot. Pray! Pray hard, Church. Declare the opposite of what you see. Release truth, and peace, and mercy into our land. Pray protection for our President. Pray wisdom to be given him. Pray that God surrounds him with Daniels and with Josephs. Pray especially for his life and that angels surround him to keep him safe from harm. Cry out! For a great battle is upon us and we must stand and halt the dark.

Artwork: spiritual warfare hands, unknown

He is There

"I'm here, I'm here, I'm here!" Do you hear it, mother-dear?

"I'm here, I'm here, I'm here!" Shhh, listen very closely. Can you hear his tiny self reaching out to you? He has a soul . . . he has a beating heart. He wishes you to know that he is there.

"I'm here, I'm here, I'm here!" He hopes to make it out into the world of sun and wind and sky. He wants you to know that, though invisible to you, he is alive. He holds a destiny within his little soul. He is trying, with all his strength, to let you know he has a name. He is not a lump of tissue as some would wish you to believe. He is not a glob of cells to be flushed out.

Close your eyes, quiet your soul, and listen . . . "I'm here, I'm here, I'm here!"

Photograph: unborn baby, fetus, unknown

Fights and Bites

"Stupid, stupid humans! We've done it! We've gots them now, haven'ts we? Right where we wants them? Look at them fights and bites and tear at ones another. Such a sweetsy thing to see!"

"Yes, but not enough. They must destroy each other. Release Chaos in the land. He is very powerful and should do the job."

"Chaos? Ooohhh, Chaos is a nasty ones. Good! Good! We can'ts wait to see Chaos come! Make those stupid humans devour each others. Hee-hee, spits and gnaws and claws! Humans are so easy, easy-peasy to divide. Namesy-calling blind ones. Blind as batsies! See them hates each other!"

"We need to keep them in the dark for Chaos to reign."

"Yes, yes sir, we wills. We will keeps them blind as batsies! Hee-hee, cover their hearts, cover their eyes, no seeing light, no hopes, no truths. We wills!"

Artwork: Dante and Virgil in Hell by William Bouguereau

Alive Again!

It's awake. It is, truly! It is breathing again - large, gulping breaths. And to think I believed that dream was dead, never to awaken. But here it is, as pulsing with life as the first moment it landed in my heart.

His Spirit whispered hope into me so quietly that I did not know it. He brought forth life from what was buried in a grave: bones, dry and dead and quite forgotten. And I was surprised to feel a stirring deep within. I was astonished when I recognized its joyful presence.

I thought it was forever dead. Yet here it is, a dream alive again!

Artwork: resurrecting from the dead, unknown

Weapons Given to Me

I fight for my children with weapons given to me from heaven - powerful ones, breaker ones, ones that free captives from their prisons.

I fight for the lost with a passion given to me from heaven - a fiery thing, a stubborn thing, a thing so soaked with love that the gates of hell cannot prevail against it.

I fight for this world with angels who join me from heaven - ministering ones, worship ones, ones who war until the ending of the battle.

I fight and will not stop. Not until all those I know (and those I do not know yet) are delivered from the bonds of death to become children of my loving Father.

Artwork: spiritual warfare praying, angels, unknown

Out In the Deep

Are we out in the deep now? No sight of land at all? My . . . a curious position to be in. And on top of that, I see a fog has come, one of those sight-stealing brumes that lurk over the water.

I say, Bravo! . . . I say, well done to push out from the shore into that realm where He alone must be your wind, your sail, even the very current that will guide you to your new land. It took quite a bit of courage to face your fear and do it, choosing to place all you have, and all your hope, into His hands.

Yet, I can see the questions flitting through your mind. Those little 'what ifs' that tenaciously pester trying to find a hold: What if a storm should come? What if land is never found? What if I sink to the bottom of the sea? . . . what if, what if, what if.

Do not be afraid . . . He rules the mist . . . He directs the wind . . . He owns the sea. He will get you there.

Artwork: boat in the fog, sea,  unknown

Who You Are

This is a reminder. You need a reminder. Now and then we all do. When you have forgotten your name we shall remind you who you are. And so now we do:

You are Grace-carrier, extending mercy to those in need.

You are Light-bringer to those who dwell in darkness.

You are Truth-bearer who speaks the words that free men's hearts.

You are Lion-heart who does not cower in the face of fear.

You are Warring-child equipped with weapons that pull down strongholds.

You are Loving-song, worshipper of the most Beloved of them all.

You are New-creation, a citizen of a better city.

And we? We are that great cloud of witnesses who have gone before you. It is we who remind you who you are. The enemy of your soul will not relent; but God is greater. And His plans shall happen in your life. REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE!!!

Artwork: female angel warrior, unknown

Tomorrow the Sun

Again the sun has risen and the earth is still quietly revolving happily in its course. If ever I boast of anything let it be of how good and great my Father up in heaven is. What a loving God who created this revolving earth! He made it all for us, us small beings who are the apple of His eye.

What made this God of glorious nature fall in love with us? We cannot earn this love, yet it is heaped upon us when we have done nothing but look up and acknowledge Him who gives it freely.

And tomorrow the sun shall rise again . . . and tomorrow His mercy shall be freshly given. I can only shake my head in wonder.

Artwork by George Elgar Hicks

Son of Joy

Georgian's learned it well. No one laughs and loves quite the way that Georgian Banov does. Show us again, lover of God, show us again how it's done! How do you love so well? You are contagious, son of joy. You are outright crazy with love.

Let me be so crazy! Let me follow in your steps . . . it is a good day to be drunk with joy . . . it is a good day to be rocked by love.

Photograph: Georgian Banov in Africa

Still I Thirst

I want more. Truly, I want more. Will it cost me? I do not care, for I want more. It is a growing thirst within me - I could drink all day and night and still I thirst. You have done this to me, wrecked me with your love. But it is a good wrecking, a good undoing, a much needed realigning of my soul.

I want more!! Such a thirst within me that I must drink . . . all night long. Jesus, I want more.

Artwork: Living Water © Jessica Oart
https://www.etsy.com/people/jessicaoart

Until the Darkness Has No Place

You can't hold onto it, you know. It wasn't meant for that - it will fade away if you try. I know it is beautiful, quite brilliant, but there is far more where that came from. Did you know it multiplies when you share it? In fact, it doesn't just multiply, it grows - larger and larger until it fills a home, a neighborhood, a city.

His light is not meant to be bottled up or hidden under a basket. It's meant to be set out on a hill, spread through every street, brought into every home, until the darkness has no place to be.

You'd be surprised what one tiny, flittering flame can do; it can start an entire fire. So take off that lid . . . I dare you!

Artwork: (c) Emilia Wilk
http://emiliawilk.com/all.htm

It Is Time

GLORY (it is in the air) . . . GLORY (like a mist over the earth) . . . GLORY (breathe it in) . . . GLORY (angels are declaring, can you hear it?) . . . GLORY (His presence, shattering the gates of hell!) . . . GLORY (it is time, it is a change of season) GLORY (men shall fall before it) . . .GLORY (Glory of the only One, the true God, the everlasting Father . . . and all creation bows, groaning for the sons of God to be revealed)

It is time.

Photograph: tree in sun, unknown

Til You're All Worn Out

You can let go of that old thing, you know. No more tug-of-wars . . . unless you choose it. And why in the world would you? He offers you liberty! Your choice, His power. But . . . you have to be willing to let go, move on, turn a different direction (repent, even).

Think about it. Do you really want that old thing? There are so many better things, joyful things, eternal things that He wishes to give you, now that you're His child. But you must let go of that. Or . . . you could continue fighting with it 'til you're all worn out, for years maybe.

Come on now, just let go.

Artwork: Woman Walking Dog by Edward Robert Hughes

Not a Cinder-girl

It begins with you, my girl:

If you truly understand your value, how you are treasured by your Papa God, then you will only choose a man who understands the same and who'll treasure you.

If you truly believe you are a holy vessel, one who should be honored and respected, then you will only choose a man who believes the same and who'll honor you.

If you demand to be known, first and foremost, heart and soul and depth of thoughts, then you will only choose a man who wishes to get to know you first before he ever touches you.

If you look in the mirror and truly see a princess of the royal courts of heaven, an heir to the riches of her Father's kingdom - then only a man who sees the same shall be worthy of you and you will make sure that you have no other.

You are not a cinder-girl any longer . . . no, no, you were pulled from the ashes long ago!

Artwork: Cinderella by Valentine Cameron Prinsep

Lop It Off!

Were you surprised when He cut it off? It had to be done, and He is just the one to do it for He knows exactly where to cut.

You have good roots - but one branch grew wrong. That's alright. Do not worry yourself about it. It happens to us all, quite regularly. God loves our growth. If we never grew, He would never need to prune. And He must prune if we are to continue to grow and bear more fruit.

So let Him do it, even when it's painful. Let Him lop it off! Be glad that branch grew out - whether it was bad, dead, unfruitful, or even sickly - be thankful that it grew enough for Him to cut it. Oh, happy day, when you see next season's fruit!

Photograph: tree, unknown

Washed By Water

Dear Bride of Christ,

You are being washed by water. You are being soaked in Glory. Sometimes it rains. Sometimes it's a shallow pool. But always you are in it.

And why does Father God take so much care in cleansing you? Because He loves His son. He promised Him a bride that's pure. And how the bridegroom loves His promised bride.

Another stain is gone . . . another wrinkle smoothed . . . another wound is healed. Soon you'll be ready for a wedding! And all of heaven shall attend it!

Artwork: prophetic art bride in water, unknown

Not Just Another Storm

It is about to break . . . you are almost there, almost at the end of this testing place, this trial by storm. Stand strong! Stand fast! Gird up and plant your feet solidly on that rock! This is not the time to allow thoughts to stray or lose your hope.

This is not just about you, and this is not just another storm - this is about His destined plans!!! And this storm is from the enemy of your soul who senses the time is near for you to step across into that higher place for the sake of others that need to see. 

With a longing out of your own heart, he planned to fell you. With a good desire you have hoped upon, he has tried to break your spirit. No greater storm has ever come against you. No harder thing has ever warred against your mind. It has been a sifting time - but you shall make it. Hold on . . . you are almost there . . . it is time for crossing over.

Arwork: My Deliverer (c) Jeanette Sthamaan
http://www.brushedbythespirit.com/

Gazing on the Right Thing

That is good . . . stay focused . . . look neither left nor right. Shhhh, keep very calm and still your heart. Keep your gaze upon His face.

 . . . and there it is. I see it. I see His glory on your face. There are still storm clouds black and rumbling round you, but not within you, child. Not within you any longer.

What peace is found when gazing on the right thing.

Artwork: woman praying, unknown

Breaker Is Your Name

You will dance again. You think that you may not - but He has other plans. And one day you'll forget the past, and rise above, and simply dance.

Breaker is your name, dear one. Breaker is your destiny! Dancing on the pain . . . dancing on the fear . . . crushing the enemy beneath your warring, graceful feet.

And so you'll break the others free - the prisoners who sleep. They shall be awakened by the dance!

Artwork: Raise From Gold (c) Van Renselar
http://www.van-renselar.com/

A Fiercer Route

Oh, I am ready for it! This trek has been a long appointed thing, God of All-consuming Fire.

I AM READY FOR IT! Not round the mountain this time; you have a shorter path - a fiercer route, more courage needed - but more freedom will be found.

And the enemy of my soul? . . . he . . . has . . . lost.

A season for acceleration. It is through the mountain this time. Then out to the other side . . . my destiny is calling.

Artwork: Expulsion, Moon and Firelight by Thomas Cole

From His Very Heart

They burn quite hot - a brilliant, gleaming white. And from His very heart they come.

It is time. He holds them ready - another son or daughter has been crying out for more: More fire! A heart renewed! A new love! Let it come!

And so He reaches into His heart, into that inner fire, and plucks out the holy embers. It's time to set a fire afresh in yet another heart . . . Hahahahaha! He's even laughing when He does it. I think it's one of His most favorite things to do.

Artwork: prophetic art, God's hands, unknown

A Destiny Awaits

"Father, it is broken."

"I know, dear one. Will you give it to me, bruises, pain and all?"

"But all my dreams are in it."

"Yes, it is a precious thing, I know, for I am the One who made it. I am the One who placed those dreams inside it. But I must hold it now. You must trust me with it."

"And then what?"

"Do not worry about that. Only do what I have asked. I am the only One who has the power to heal it. You cannot. Neither can any man."

"Will it take long?"

"Not long. Not long at all. This time it is different . . . Now, may I have it?" 

"Yes. Yes . . . I am ready. You may have it. I know a destiny awaits and I do not wish this sorrow to hold me back. Please take it."

"You are brave, my girl . . . very brave, indeed."

Artwork: Broken Heart (c) Daniel Rocal
http://daniel-rocal.deviantart.com/ 

The Praying Kind

I still believe there is a Boaz in my future. I still believe that there is someone sure and strong . . . even now, I still believe.

He gives all he has to Father God and he's there for her who's weaker. A heart that's true, flaws and all, he is a lovely man.

A woman needs your kind, dear man. The praying kind. The faithful kind. The kind who hears God's Spirit and protects a woman's heart.

 . . . most of all, a man of courage . . . I still believe.

Photograph: man praying, unknown

Justice Comes

I hear that voice! I hear Him shouting through the heavens. My Captain He is come. God of the Angel Armies!

"JUSTICE!" I hear the shout. "JUSTICE!" again, it roars. "Justice comes to those who wait for my deliverance. My hand is not so short it cannot save! I say, NO MORE! I have come, you hosts of hell, and I defend my child from your evil onslaught. I bring Justice with me - I am my child's ever-present help! . . . ENOUGH! . . . I drive you into darkness! It is with me you now contend for into my arms my child ran."

And then a tremor in the air - the hosts of heaven round about. A battle's here, a battle's come, a battle I no longer need to fight. How wonderful is the Captain of the Hosts of heaven. How lovely is that Lion.

Artwork: Lion with Justice by unknown

You Can Have My Isaac

There it lies. You asked me for it. You asked for me to lay it down upon that altar. A precious thing to me: A dream I've dreamt for years and years and finally had a taste of. But now? Now I must leave it lying there . . . and the ache within me nearly kills.

And I must walk away from that which was so dear, so longed for even. I cannot pick it up. Even though it felt so right and sweet. Even though it was a dream I dreamt for half my life.

You can have whatever of me that you wish. I will keep nothing from you - you can have my Isaac even.

Artwork: Worship (c) Marybeth Stafford
http://www.marybethart.com/

Sinking!

Keep my head above the water, for I cannot swim. And at this moment I cannot walk upon it either. I swear that I am sinking! Reach down here in this torrent, pull me out. Reach down here, find my hand! For in my thrashing, I cannot see your hand to grab it!

You promised me the flood would never overwhelm . . . I must believe your words. You do not lie. I must relax . . . hold out my hand . . . and simply breathe . . . slowly, in and out . . . breathe in your Spirit, focus on the rhythm till it's quiet . . . breathe again . . . just breathe . .

. . . and there you are. I see your lovely self. I see your strong and gentle hand. I am safe again. How foolish that I thought I wasn't. You said that we are chasing down the fear - well, I think I found it!

Artwork: Jesus looking throuh water, Take My Hand and Have Faith by unknown

One Spot of Darkness

I am fully willing, Lord, to hear it. Speak what is true. I have asked for truth since I was young and first began to follow. And now it is no different.

Expose my heart! Let your blinding light reveal everything that's hidden. I want it, Lord. Burn deep within and do not let one spot of darkness hide. I welcome it. It is time for me to walk a higher glory. I will not rest till that thing within is thoroughly disposed of. And if I need to wrestle it out, so be it. Let the struggle start - for I will fight until the truth is anchored deep and firm.

. . . . it is a violent zeal that takes hold, and it is time for it.

Artwork: Words Like Fire © Dolores DeVelde
http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/dolores-develde.html

It Takes Such a Heart

You need His Lion's heart, dear man, for it takes such a heart to keep your love on. It takes such a heart to embrace another, without any thought of self.

You are meant to have a love that's huge! That's wild with strength and does not get offended. And, of course, His Lion's heart would not allow you to recoil - no more shutting down and hiding. That is not for you, for His heart makes you fearless.

I hear a distant sound - a roaring in the spirit. I see a vision faintly - a heart ablaze with courage. Who is this man who has been apprehended by the Lion of the Tribe of Judah? . . . He is a man who found a Lion's heart inside him.

Artwork: Awaken Your Might (c) James Nesbit
http://www.jnesbit.com/

An Old Familiar Fear

"Are you here, God?"

"Yes, child, I am here."

"How did I find myself again in this dark wood? I thought it was not the season for it."

"It is not. It is supposed to be the season of all-things-restored, not old dark paths again."

"Then how is it I find myself here? It is a grievous place."

"You were led here, child."

"By you?"

"No, not by me . . . It was an old familiar fear that led you here, led you into loss. And you listened to its voice, dear one."

"I did listen, didn't I? I did not mean to! I tried so hard to stop my ears and push its voice away. But it overwhelmed me, and now I find myself in this dark wood again! . . . Oh, Papa God, what now?"

"I think that it is time to go after that old familiar fear, don't you?"

"Yes. With all my heart I wish to run it through and NEVER hear its voice again!"

"Exactly what I was thinking . . . do not worry; I will lead you out of here and you will not return again . . . but first, let's begin the chase!"

Artwork: standing alone in the woods, unknown

Fearless

I saw that you were brave. I saw you open up your heart to love again. And I am proud of you, my warrior child. You dared to step into that place that you most feared - that place of trusting in another. You are fearless, dear one! and you do not even know it; for all you see is that moment that the fear took over . . . but that is not what I see.

I see my warrior child brave and bold, daring to love again, daring to trust when every man she's ever known has walked away. I see my warrior child standing in the face of her own storm, facing down the wind that blows, and fighting hard to keep on standing. I see a heart that others do not see, and I know the courage that it took to care, though now she stands alone again - I am here.

Look up at me, my warrior child. I never leave . . . and the courage you now need to heal and in the future, trust again, shall come from me.

Artwork: Set Me Free by unknown

Upon the Wheel

He calls me Lovely.

He calls me "fashioned from His heart."

And yet I can see the flaws. I can see the imperfections that need another turn upon the wheel. But when He looks at me, He sees the finished work. He sees what I'll become.

So I will stay within His hand and let Him mold me as He wishes. He is an artist, after all . . . and He is faithful to keep molding, changing, gently healing from the inside out until I'm whole.

Artwork: In the Potter's Hand (c) Marybeth Stafford
http://www.marybethart.com/

On That Cliff's Edge

No fear, dear one? Not anymore? And yet, nothing has changed - you are still on that cliff's edge, just as near to falling as you were before; and still there lies a precipice below and nothing but thin air in front. So good to see you figured it out.

It took awhile, but somewhere between the shudderings and leaf-like quakings and startled-eyed glances over the rim and down . . . somewhere in the middle of it all you lifted up your head. And He who made you, made that cliff, and made your path lead to its edge, was waiting for that moment all along.

This is how rays of hope come!

Artwork: Mary's Hope © Duncan Long

http://duncanlong.com/ 

Far Bigger Still

"This big?"
"No, far bigger."
"THIS BIG?"
"Oh, no, far bigger still. Your arms could not spread wide enough to reach the largeness of the dreams He has for you."
"Really? - What if I stretched my arms to touch the mountains?"
"It still could never be wild enough or big enough or difficult enough to exhaust His ability."
"And He truly wants me to dream that big? Don't I need to fear dreaming too big?"
"Hahahahahahahaha . . . no human has ever dreamt TOO big for God! Child, dream large . . . larger still . . . larger than you ever dared. He likes it, you know."
"He does?"
"Oh, yes, He gets quite a kick out of His children who believe hugely. You could never ask or think bigger than He can do. So few even try, though."
"Then I shall be one who tries!"

Photograph: child laughing,  unknown

Sleep For Now

I am praying for you strong one, little warrior one. I am praying that you make it all the way into this wide, strange world . . . safe. I am hoping that you will learn to sing your song and follow the beat of your own drummer. I am hoping beyond hope that you will not become a stat . . . a cold statistic, one of millions, of all the little warriors who did not win their fight.

Shh, sleep for now and do not worry your sweet heart about it - for I am praying for you. Tens of thousands of us are. We will not stop our speaking, writing, praying, standing along sidewalks on cold mornings hoping to help all those mothers-dear who do not know they have a little warrior down inside them.

Photograph: Fetus in womb, unknown