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May you abound in the peace and love of our sweet Lord Jesus,
Elizabeth
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Beautiful
Randy and I took the Metro down to Arlington to his office so he could pick up some files he needed for the weekend. When we arrived at the Courthouse station and began to exit the train to his office, Randy grabs my hand and says to me, "There is a guy we will pass in a few minutes - he plays his guitar and sings Jesus songs." We ascended the stairs and swiped our cards at the turnstile. As we rounded the corner, heading for the tunnel that runs under the street to his office building, I could hear the music. Softly, quietly it drifted and swirled around me pulling me forward to the center of the tunnel where it splits off into different directions. His sweet voice carried simple words, but friend, they were such powerful words.
"Jesus, I want to be in Your presence.
Jesus, I want to know you.
Jesus, I want you to fill me up with Your love."
"Here I am. I will take your problems because they are not to big for me. I will take your stress and your anxiety, your worry and your fear. I will take your doubt. I will use it to build you up and never let you down. Trust me."
As we continued to walk through the tunnel under the street, the music faded slowly away. We emerged into the sunshine of late afternoon. I felt grateful. I felt peaceful. Would it last? I did not know.
When we re-entered the train station, retracing our steps, the music slowly, quietly began to drift through the tunnels to me once again. God showed me how this man had placed himself strategically in the center of the station's tunnels where Jesus' name could be heard throughout. I began to think about how God places us in a certain time and place for His specific purposes. We may never know this side of Heaven who we affect with our actions - good or bad, but I believe if we are obedient to our calling and the ministry God has laid before us, then the outcome is change.
Changed hearts.
Changed minds.
Changed lives.
Changed for the good, not the bad. Is that not enough for us to know? Should we not, every one of us whatever our beliefs are, just try to be a source of encouragement to one another? Should we not always try our very best to show kindness and love to another fellow human being? Should we not care about another's burdens and show them what God can do with those burden's?
When I passed by this man, each time I felt a holiness and reverence that had been missing in the rest of my day. I felt it because Jesus was with him. It made me want to touch this man in the subway tunnel as if I might draw on his love for Jesus, might benefit somehow from his obedience, that somehow magically it could be transferred directly to me with just a mere touch. I wanted what he had in Jesus, but I did not have to touch him to get it. Because Jesus was present and He made Himself available to me in the busiest of times to calm and refresh my heart, ease my worries and anxieties. He filled me up with His peace and love and all I had to do was exist in His presence. It is the most beautiful thing to experience and I want to encourage you to seek Him out today. Let Jesus love and spoil you with His perfectness and His beauty. Let it be today.
May you exist in a showering of His Peace and love,
Elizabeth
Friday, May 20, 2011
The Beginnings of Faith and Trust
Be sober, be watchful. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith.
~ I Peter 5:8-9a
~ I Peter 5:8-9a
It is 2a.m.. Voluminous clouds ride the wind’s breath low across the treetops. Bare branches reach into the midnight sky. There is a beauty in the surreality of these moments where I exist alone. Shadows create a world of possibilities from the purview of my bedroom window as my mind wanders through a plethora of demands that weigh me down. A storm is approaching. Lightening shatters the sky and seconds later the crushing sound of thunder shakes me with its forceful growl. To see the lightening rod salesman from Something Wicked This Way Comes, walking along the sidewalk below would seem quite fitting and not the least bit out of the ordinary. Instead, drifting clouds lull me into stillness. The stars shine hypnotically against an infinite blackness, so deep, so vast, I feel miniscule. Part of a Nahum scripture asserts itself into my conscious: “The Lord has His way in the storm and the clouds are the dust of His feet.” My mind creates an image of God on a mission of utmost importance. He marches in long strides with angels closely following. The second troop of clouds march rapidly into view, then disappear over the trees. Wispy remnants linger as the last of the clouds race by with a swish that swirls my thoughts and I want to reach out, call up to God, “Wait. You are going too far. You passed right by me.” The wind whispers a husky goodbye as I drift into a curious mind’s restless slumber with the words, “What is so important?” on my lips.
I wrestle with the sleep that comes to me. In the morning when I awaken, I feel forgotten. Before I even open my eyes, I can feel the anxiety building. Behind my closed eyes, a scroll unrolls a list of musts. And I must get moving because I am behind, so woefully behind. I feel frazzled, overwrought, exhausted. I sit at the edge of the bed praying. The disquiet of my mind, creates an anarchy that, like a boa constrictor clinches me, squeezing until I am in tears, gasping for air. I breathe shallow breathes. My head feels enormous, strangely buoyant as if it is filled with helium. I scour the room for an exit as the claustrophobia creeps up from my feet tying me to the floor. I panic sure this time is the end. This is the day that I really can’t take anymore. The fear confuses and disorientates me, debilitates me. It turns me into a jumpy, edgy mess. The demons that haunt me and nip at my heels are good at what they do to me – a total derailment. They isolate me and persecute me day after day as if they have permission to create as much upheaval as possible. Turmoil churns and boils in our house creating a jungle of adversities and I want to slip away unnoticed for just a little while.
I have often thought about what my faith would be like if I had never experienced the trials that God has laid before me. I think that my faith would be a shallow puddle of water incapable of surviving the heat of a summer afternoon. It would just evaporate into the air and disappear.
It would not make for a very good disciple, I fear.
For me, the most difficult part of a spiritual battle is to know God is there, but being unable to exist in a state of patience to experience His presence. I am still trying to control outcomes, trying to convince God that I do not deal with catastrophe well. I want Him to promise me that I will not lose anything more than I already have lost. I want Him to fix the problems in my life without having a major lesson come out of it. I know He is conditioning me, equipping and instructing me, qualifying me for the moment when He calls to me and says, “Okay. It’s time.”
In the past I have struggled to understand why days, weeks, sometimes even months go by where I feel totally in synchronicity with God. There is a contentment that fits perfectly in my life and peace reigns. Until that one morning, that one morning I wake up feeling unsettled and in an instant, I forget that He reigns. I forget the One who with His very own hands fashioned me to be who I am, then He placed me on Earth in a perfectly selected place and time to do the work He gives me to do. To fulfill my purpose here on Earth, it is necessary to under-go faith building. God does not expect my faith to stay the size of a mustard seed. Seeds were created to grow into beautiful, hearty plants; some which nourish our body, others which nourish our spirit. Just as the seed waits for the warmth of the sunlight and the rain from the Heavens so they might grow in their time, so should I wait on God and follow Him wherever He leads me, no matter the trial, no matter how scared or anxious I am, because He is teaching me something so incredibly important. He is teaching me to trust Him.
Always.
Forever.
Infinitely.
This is all I need to know.
Elizabeth
Thursday, January 6, 2011
The Gift ~ part one
Now there were in the same country shepherds living out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. And behold, an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were greatly afraid. Then the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be the sign to you: You will find a Babe wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying: “ Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace, goodwill toward men!”~ Luke 2:8-14
A Little Piece of Wisdom
A Little Piece of Wisdom
When I was a senior in high school, three weeks before Christmas, God gave me a special and unique gift. At the time, I underestimated the significance of the gift, I barely recognized it as such. But through the years the memory of a moment, in a back alley, on a cold winter day, spurred a non-linear pondering that cultivated two things: passion and a little piece of imparted wisdom.
One Sunday afternoon, I attended a matinee showing of “Driving Miss Daisy” at the Alliance Theater. When the play was over and dusk eminent, I ambled alone, down the sidewalk, back to my car. The city already reflected Christmas. Wreaths and twinkle lights adorned many of the buildings and trees. Distracted by thoughts of colleges I might attend and holiday party RSVPs and pretty Christmas lights all around me, I did not realize I had strayed in the opposite direction of my car. The cold wind pierced my body even though I was dressed in a wool suit and long leather coat. I burrowed deeper inside my scarf and shoved my gloved hands down into my pockets. I scurried across the street, pausing to watch the sun as it drifted down, down, out of sight behind a hotel. The sidewalks were deserted and quiet on the back streets. My nose crinkled as it caught the smell of something burning. I turned around and stared down the alley way. A homeless woman sat on the frozen ground trying to light a small fire, but the fierce wind blew out each match she struck. I could see the smoldering ashes of the last fire. Beside her, a red milk crate held what appeared to be all her worldly possessions. When she looked up, I could see the loneliness in her eyes. I was overwhelmed and panicked. She stared at me for a fleeting moment, but it seemed an eternity to me. I stared at the torn clothes upon her emaciated body and beyond to the dumpster that partially concealed a torn cardboard appliance box. I took a step closer and she feebly stood. From her pocket, she pulled a dead dandelion, handed it to me, and wished me a Merry Christmas.
I walked away confused and feeling conflicted. Should I take her home with me? Should I buy her something to eat? Should I give her my coat? I do not remember my parents ever preparing me for this particular situation and I did not have a handbook to consult. I know what I wanted to do. I wanted to take her to the nicest hotel, feed her a fancy meal, let her soak in a hot bath, but I did none of these things. I just went home to a hot dinner waiting on me, a warm bed and soft pillows. My dog slept across my feet that night as I dreamt of haunting eyes and eternal stares. In my dream, I take her to the hotel and her smile sweeps away my hesitation to do what is right and good.
Over the years, I have often thought about this woman. I try to imagine that someone helped her and she lived happily ever after. I always wondered how I must have looked to her and why she wanted to give me something when it appeared I had so much and she had so little. She did not boast or ask anything in return. She was quiet and gentle in her words and in her actions. It was a simple gift, one she must have treasured because the poor dandelion was like a much loved teddy bear, worn and twisted and held together by the bare threads of the stalk. I gave her nothing but a smile and an enormous amount of pity.
In my life I have been, financially, in many different places. There have been times when I worked more than one job to make ends meet. I have taken a calculator to the store, carefully adding each item to make sure I had enough cash and stood stoic, heart pounding, sure I would have to put something back because I maybe added the tax wrong. I have been at the opposite end where I could afford a little luxury – maybe not my own island – but maybe a dreamy, week long vacation in the Bahamas. I have been at every place in between. I have gleaned there will always be people with more, there will always be people with less. And it is nothing to be ashamed of, not anything worthy of boasting. Money is essential to existing in this world, but it will never buy you happiness or peace of mind. Being financially wealthy does not make anyone more important than another in God’s eyes.
My Granddaddy always said that Christmas had become commercialized and it was a money making endeavor. Sadly, I have to agree. I must admit that I am as guilty as anyone to buy too many gifts. It is all too easy to get caught up in all the hype and forget the real purpose of Christmas. In the midst of all the shopping and checking names off lists as I fight the crowds at the mall, I forget the One who really deserves a gift.
I consider the charities and three sponsored families we support. At church, a few weeks before Thanksgiving, items are gathered for gift baskets for families in need and Angel Tree tags hang from a fake fir tree. I participate, then contemplate the rest of the year. Jesus never said to love and serve only at Christmas. He said to do it all the time. Each and every day. He never said it was the price of the gift that was important. He never said spend equal amounts on everyone. He never said, “go to the mall and buy bright shiny electronics.”
He said, “love one another.” He said, “give to those in need.” He said, “feed my sheep.” And I do, but do I do it every day? Am I drawing on my God-given talents? Am I freely giving of my time? Am I giving gifts from my heart?
Now all the pondering gives way to clarity and this is what I know. Gifts should never be given to impress and need not be expensive to have meaning. The lavishness of a gift should lie in the heart of the giver, not in the wallet. It should only matter how big my heart is and that it stays big all year long. The reason behind Christmas should be remembered always. It is about a gift that was given to me and to you.
More than two thousand years ago, God gave every person an equal opportunity gift. It was not just for the rich or the poor, the best or the worst, the most or the least. Under a starlit sky, in a stable, God gave us the best He could offer. He gave us Jesus. There was no parade, no fireworks. He came quietly. He came gently. He came to us all in the middle of the night; while shepherds kept watch over their flocks, kings sat on their thrones, gifts traveled from afar. It was a night like no other. It was a perfect night where angels sang to shepherds and Kings bowed down to an infant. It was a night that should leave me awe struck and bring me to my knees in reverence of a child that was sent to die so that I could live. He gave all of Himself for me and I struggle to give even a little.
Many will tell you that signs and miracles and wonders must come to us in a grand way, but Jesus didn’t come that way at all. He came to us on an ordinary day. God sent His best to us and never boasted about. In return, can I say that I give my best to Him? Can I say that every gift I give was given from my heart? Can I say it contained even a little bit of Jesus? I do not know that I have ever given away something I truly treasured above all else.
I want to believe my heart is bigger than the bad things that have happened in my life. I want to believe I am not selfish and self-serving. I want to believe that I walk in humility. I want to believe that Jesus shines through me every day. I want to say that I give the very best of me that I have to offer, that somewhere inside of me is something that makes me worthy enough to be loved by Jesus. The truth is I am not, even in my best and most extraordinary moment, worthy enough to stand before God without Jesus to wash away my sins. And believe me, there sure is a lot of washing to do.
When I was seventeen, I stood still and watched a woman who seemed to have nothing, give me a gift. In that gift, I found God. I did not see Him at first, but over time, as I’ve grown, He revealed Himself to me. I see Him in the wrinkles on her face. I felt Him as her hand graced mine. I heard Him as she spoke to me. I have held the memory of her in my heart. I accepted her gift and gave her nothing in return. Jesus has given me life, and I have given nothing to Him that would ever compare to what He has given to me and the humbling truth is, I will never come close.
Please watch this before you leave:
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