New Home

I am thrilled to announce that A Quiet Chaos has a new home.  


So come on over and check out all the great work that Author Media has done.  A special thanks to Hannah, Hilary and Samantha.  You ladies rock!  


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May you abound in the peace and love of our sweet Lord Jesus,
Elizabeth

Beautiful

Yesterday afternoon, I found God in a subway tunnel.
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." 

As we drew nearer to him, I could feel love and encouragement in my heart.  As the words he sang made my heart swell, I let the rest of everything fall away - the stress, the anxiety, the problems to big for me to handle, the meanness of the world, the fear that keeps me in idle much too often- I just let it go.  And for the few brief moments as we passed by him, I truly felt God whispering to my heart.
"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?

He can take them, crush them and make us whole. I think I will let Him take mine.  Will you?
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

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

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.

Christian maturity requires sacrifice, but God promises us that He is sufficient.

 Always.

Forever.

Infinitely.

This is all I need to know.

Peace, love and blessings  to you all,

Elizabeth

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

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:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xpHiAmL8-b0

Peace and Love, Elizabeth

A Little Extra Love

The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. ~ Zephaniah 3:17
God loved on me a little extra last week.  It was one of those weeks that was filled with surprises and excitement, happiness and joy, peace and love.

In Indianapolis November 14th for the Colts game.

And a birthday.  Last Thursday, it turns out, I have spent 40 years on this earth.  Twenty years ago, I would have thought it would surely be the death of me to turn such a old and ugly age, but I have found that with each decade that passes, things truly get better with age.  Personally all my "decade" birthdays have been excellent years, but just between me and you, I don't remember my tenth year perfectly, but I am certain that it was good.


I don't know when the change began, but I have noticed in the past month that I have become comfortable being me.  I have always considered myself a middle of the road kind of person.  Nothing really special or great and nothing really terrible or bad.  Just average.  Being myself has not always been an easy task.  I have never had a very high opinion of myself.  I have always thought I was somewhat like a chameleon- ever changing to blend into my surroundings.  I was happy to float under the radar.  I enjoy attention (I mean who doesn't?), but I never know what to do when I get too much.  I feel awkward.  This past week though I was showered with attention and love and gifts.  I am going to share some of them with you.  Some may leave you scratching your head thinking - what is the big deal about that? The point, I believe you will find, is that they were all God inspired and He left His fingerprints everywhere.  It made me feel as if I was the only one He was paying attention to this week.  I felt special and, not for a moment, awkward.  This week, for the first time ever, I found God in my birthday.


It all began on Friday the 3rd.  I woke up with my husband's cold and was unable to attend my journaling group's monthly meeting.  However, it didn't stop everyone else from celebrating.  A friend dropped by afterward and brought my gifts.  Everyone had given me 40 of something - mostly chocolate - (yeah!).  I even got 40 pencils so I have no excuse not to write everyday.  Then came the weekend.  I spent the weekend nursing a cold while my husband did all kinds of things for me.  He even fixed a cracked toilet seat.  For me, this was a great start to my birthday week.  In this household, I usually do these things.  Randy is a financial whiz, but construction and repairs of any kind - we will just say, I usually enjoy those projects a little more than he does.  On Tuesday, gifts poured down like rain from a summer thunderstorm.   They were little things - Logan and I went to the post office and Chick-fil-a is right next door.  Now I have been craving a chicken biscuit for weeks and my rear-end has threatened me if I so much as think about going to get one...but my craving won and I still fit into my jeans.  Of course, we were running late, it was almost 11am and I was sure there were no biscuits left from breakfast. There never are.  But on Wonderful, Glorious Tuesday, there was one.  One. So Logan graciously gave it up for a sandwich instead.  I know - little things make me happy, but it tasted soooo good.  In my change, I received a 1967 half dollar.  I have not received a half dollar in change since I can't even remember when. When I was little, my Papa used to fill little outstretched grandkid hands with these magical coins.  I still have one in my jewelry box with a $2 bill my Granny gave to me.  It brought back all those memories of climbing around in the attic of their old house and Papa climbing up there with us to tell us ghost stories.  The dust would swirl in the light at the edges of dark corners as we listened to stories about creaking bones and footfalls on the stairs. I remembered Papa's dog, Tiny, who would "sit like a human" right next to him on the sofa while they watched the television and Granny's nut roll at Christmas and the perfect dressing she always made when she roasted a chicken.  She used the broth and added all those wonderful bits of moist, tender chicken.  My mouth is starting to water right now and I am thinking that soup may not satisfy me for dinner tonight.  That old worn out coin in my hand brought back childhood memories and it began a pattern of thinking about how of these little things form a shroud around me.  Each year is another layer added and my shape changes. I have accumulated scars, opinions, attitudes, knowledge and wisdom - among other things.  It all melts together and each new year of my life transforms me into this person I sometimes fail to recognize.  In the mirror, I look so different. In my stomach, I used to feel this panic.  No.  Not forty.  Not yet.  Rewind the clock.  Stop the clock.  Just stop it for a little while and let me catch up to where the year tells me I am, but my head tells me that it is still running the numbers and not to panic just yet because we must have added or subtracted something wrong.  So very wrong.  But I remember the three "wisdom" hairs I found a few months ago and my heart whispers that there has been no mistake.  I can't see them now, but by the summer the perfect dye job will fade in the sun and the heat while I garden.  I am certain those three will have company come July.

On Tuesday, I also received my first Christmas gift of the year.  Before Logan and I left, he was standing outside drinking his coffee and I stepped out to tell him something.  Right next to the door was this beautiful table with a dragonfly on it.  Back in September, I met a new friend and she is an artist.  She lives across the street.  While I was working on my rock wall and garden, she would come over and we would chat.  The table is so beautiful and fits perfectly in my writing room next to my chair.  Wednesday brought the decorating of the Christmas tree.  Normally, we would do this on my birthday. It has always been tradition every since I can remember.  I really wanted to wake up to the tree decorated on my birthday so we did it the evening before this year.  I had already decided on my gift.  I had originally wanted to have a big, fancy party with all my friends and lots of cake.  I opted for something else.  I asked for something I really want...and need.


A handyman.  


Laugh all you want, but I will direct you to the above paragraph where it states very plainly that I do the construction and repairs in this house.  This is the best gift I could have been given because our house is older than I am and it needs a little extra love.  Well - love may not do it.  I have a million and one projects that need to be finished.  My husband has given me the gift of time so can write.  That tells me he believes in me, he believes in my dream, he wants me to succeed.  So on Thursday night, while Logan hung out with friends, we rang in my new year, my fortieth year, at our favorite restaurant - The Blue Iguana - and it was the best date we have had in a long time.  I felt as if I were 21 and had my whole life in front of me.  It gave me time to dream about what I would do with another 40 years.  It made me think about being 80 and all the wisdom hairs I will have then.  It made me miss my Granddaddy and Grandma.  It made me miss listening to Granddaddy reading his Bible to us and teaching us about the Roman Road to Salvation.  It made me think about the only real wisdom I have, but can not even claim as my own. Now I will share it with you.....


My grandma always said this, "Be grateful for every year you are alive and the moment you wake up dead, be grateful you were right with the Lord."


It is the only real wisdom I possess.  I want to believe I have lived long enough to always be right, but I know that the Lord has so many more things to teach me.  I am excited to look ahead to my future.  I feel at peace with who I am.  I look forward to a whole year of being 40.  On Friday, my friend and I went to The Pink Bicycle for tea to celebrate my 40 years.  Another gift - really good Christian friends. Friends you don't have to explain anything to because they just know you that well. Snow flurries whirled around in the wind and the clouds were thick and gray.  But it didn't bother me a bit.  Those were the first snow flakes of the season and they floated down to earth on a perfect December day- a final little birthday gift from above, a reminder that happiness is found in the simplest of things.  Last week, I found God in every day.  I found Him in half-dollars and memories.  I found Him in my husband and my son, my birthday e-mails, cards, Facebook messages and texts.  I found Him in friends, old and new.  I found Him in my Christmas tree. I found Him in a perfect white snowflake that landed on my nose.

15th wedding anniversary dinner at Oceanaire in Indianapolis

Today, I look in the mirror and I find Him in me.  I look past the crow's feet and the dyed wisdom hairs, the scars and the rear-end that reminds me it could be just a little bit smaller.  I look past the shroud that covers and visually defines me to others at a glance.  I look deeper.  I look at my spirit and I see a soft glow that one day I hope will be a bright light.  I look forward to meeting Jesus one day.  I look forward to telling God face to face that I am so very grateful for the life he gave me.  And I hope that when he looks at me, He will be pleased with the way I lived my life, that He will be proud and count me as worthy enough.

I am sick with the flu.  It started Sunday night and has gotten worse ever since.  Hopefully, the weekend will bring rest and relief. Please keep me in your prayers.


Peace and Love 
Blessings and joy,
Elizabeth

A Little Note

A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver ~ Proverbs 25:11


I wanted to let you know that I have not abandoned my blog or you.  I love that you have hung in here with me even though I have been distracted.  I have been so overwhelmed by what the publishing world tells us writers to do that I have done very little writing of late.  I am lost in the tech world and I pout because all I really want to do is write.  Creating websites, learning how to market myself, and feeling like a deer caught in headlights because I am told publishers want writers who are also excellent speakers have kept me occupied along with all of the daily duties we all face.  I run from appointment to errand to housework and have cut out everything I truly enjoy for the sake of time constraints.  I have tried to force myself into a schedule that doesn't fit who I am, all for the sake of bettering myself, only to find out that it has backfired on me.  I have felt drained and exhausted and need a time of renewal to get back to my passion for writing and studying about God.  I love writing my blog and I love that you read and comment and share it with your friends and family.  I don't ever want it to feel forced because it is really all about God and living in harmony with Him and allowing the Holy Spirit to guide my words.  Most of my problem is I have starved myself of my quiet time with God.  Glynnis Whitwer with Proverbs 31 made it clear during a class that I can't feed you if I don't feed myself.


I haven't been feeding myself and my blog has suffered for it.  For that I am truly sorry.


First and Foremost, I want to be obedient to what God has called me to do.  He has called to write.  I am working on a blog entry that will post early next week and I pray and hope that you will find it was worth waiting on.  Maybe one day He will call me to speak or market myself in a certain way.  But for now, I am going to wait on Him.  God can be very tenacious when He wants me to do something His way and for that, I am grateful.  I don't serve a God that is quick to give up on me, but that will nurture me so that hopefully you find nourishment when you stop by.  I have set a goal for myself to write two blogs a week for now.  The rest of the time will be spent writing my book.  Unless the Boss gives me different instructions, and if that happens, I will be writing about it so you will be the first to know.  He has placed people in my life that are especially important to my writing.  I am a horrible speller and my grammar could use some work.  Sometimes I tend to cram too much information into a sentence and my reader gets terribly confused.  The friends that God has placed in my life are helping me to be successful to His calling in my life.  So I have an grammar checker and I have a real live spell checker.  I have encouragement specialists and I have prayer warriors.  God has set me up for success so the only way I can fail is to not be obedient to Him.


So be patient with me as I finish up my new posting and hopefully the words will be like apples of gold in settings of silver.......


as always,
May you find peace and love, happiness and joy in our ever present God,
Elizabeth




p.s. If you haven't already, be sure to sign up for delivery of my blog to your e-mail.  After you sign up, I believe you will receive a confirmation e-mail.  Let me know if you encounter any problems.

Autumn's Sweetness

To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1 (nkjv)

Summer has passed away again and Autumn has gracefully and rightfully taken her place.  The trees sway in the breeze and their leaves are turning from emerald to amber and maroon, copper and scarlet.  The sun is peeking through the last of the thick rain clouds leaving shadows at my feet.  The wind's chill cuts through my sweater and suddenly I feel alone and cold and sad.  All the monarchs and grasshoppers, dragonflies and butterflies, honey bees and bumblebees, are either dying to the cold or moving on to warmer climates.  Winter is coming.

Here in my neck of the woods, the debate rages on:  Will it be the same or worse than last year or will our winter be mild?  Everyone has a different opinion, but only One knows what ultimately will be.  Still, I check the weather everyday and read the Farmers Almanac trying to create a prediction of my own - one that I can tolerate, one that I can accept.

We live in a world of predictions and uncertainties; a world that shifts beneath our still feet as we look up to the One that can give us guidance.  Yet, I still look to the world(or worse, myself) to fix my problems, many times leaving God as a last resort; the One I will turn to when I have exhausted every other possibility.  I long to be the woman that turns to God immediately; one that never waivers or questions, but trusts in His wisdom and guidance of my steps.  I desire to be blind to all the world offers me, but somehow, in the midst of my self-driven chaos, Jesus gets lost and fades into the background where ultimately I lose sight of Him.  It is then, that I am most aware of my brokenness and it creates a hollowness in my soul that can not be satisfied with the selfish pleasures I evoke.  There are so many counterfeit gods in the world that give instant gratification, that sidetrack me and before I know what has happened a month has passed and I am parched.  I am thirsty for something real and tangible, something true and honest and worthy. 


We both know, I never have to be parched.  We both know that when I shut down and walk away from the daily grind for whatever length of time it takes - that I should be communing with God not excluding Him. For the last month, I should have been running to God and resting in Him.  I should have been still.  I should have listened.  Instead, I ran the other direction as fast and hard as I could.  Why?  Because when I become overwhelmed, it is just what I do.  I drop from sight.  If looking for me, one might find that a sighting of Bigfoot would be more likely.


Only God knows where I am and He speaks to me.  He meets me right where I am. God knows what I need and He gives it to me.  God knows just the right time to call my name and exactly what to say to awaken me from my hibernation.  The days grow short with the tick-tocking of the clock, yet I know that winter is a time of renewal for me. A time of writing and studying and listening to God.  I have struggled for weeks to write on this blog, to find the right words that your e-mails tell me you are eager to read, but with every day that passed, fear invaded my days that I might never have another thing to write to you.  I wanted to write and I prayed everyday that God would give me something.  Anything.  After uttering that prayer, I would walk away from my computer, my Bible, my paper, my pens - and straight to whatever task was at hand.  I don't remember ever waiting on God to actually answer me.


God has gently reminded me that I must be patient.  I must wait on Him.  His timing is perfect.  His ways are higher than my own.  He can be trusted.




Blue patches of sky can now be seen through the breaking clouds and the weather man reports that tomorrow will be warm and sunny.  A good day for writing under my new tree by my new rock wall.


May we trust we are exactly where God wants us to be, and as my mom likes to say, may we bloom where we are planted.  May you enjoy the days of Autumn and all of God's painting until the first midnight snowflakes begin to fall.

a note to my faithful readers

I apologize for the delay in getting a new post ready.  I have some personal things that need my attention right now and it will be another week before I post again.  I appreciate your patience and checking back. 

Peace and love,

Elizabeth

Football already?

No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. ~ Hebrews 12:11 (niv)


I love summer vacation and this summer has gone away entirely too quickly.  I feel as if I have floated through the entire summer oblivious to time.  I know that I have been very, very busy and right now I have that little kid feeling that school is just around the corner and I am fighting to savor the last few days of summer vacation before schedules and rituals creep in. 


I am leaving today and heading to Georgia to visit family and friends and I already know that the week will pass too quickly. Suddenly, Labor Day will be upon me: my sign that I must buckle down and stop living a carefree summer existence.  The past few days have felt more like autumn than summer and I have even watched a few pre-season football games (which by the way - I never watch. I mean really - who needs that agony?).  But I feel this longing for September to arrive.  I am actually looking forward to getting back into a routine because deep down I know that I am ever so much more productive when my days are structured.  


Hebrews 12:11 says this: No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. 


It is so difficult to create any discipline for myself, especially in the summer.  I know for a fact that if I am not careful,  I could find myself wasting uncountable hours. Not necessarily doing nothing at all, but just becoming distracted by all the things that need to be done or gardening or well, just, things.  That is exactly what has happened to me this week.  All of the sudden it is Friday and I find myself wondering again, "What happened to the week?"


I look out the window and the sky is blue and the sun is shining all the warmth of a perfect summer day.  A good day.  A great day. A perfect day to take a road trip with my husband.  A last week of summer vacation for creating perfect memories to treasure through the long winter months that are sure to be here all too soon.  But for now, I will enjoy this last sweet taste of summer before it is time to settle in and watch football and cook chili and pick apples and pumpkins and watch the leaves begin to turn into a beautiful display of red, orange and gold.  For this summer girl, this year autumn can not arrive too soon.  And I know why.  I am ever seeking a harvest of righteousness and peace, but it only comes after discipline has been instilled.  To be disciplined I need structure and my structure always arrives the Tuesday after Labor Day.  I do not know why God built me to need the structure of a school year, but crave the freedoms of summer. Maybe one day He will reveal the mystery to me.


This will be my last post until I return.  May the last week of your summer be the sweetest of your life.  


Peace and Blessings,
Elizabeth

Like Sweetness in Honey

How shall they preach unless they are sent? As it is written: How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the gospel of peace who bring glad tidings of good things. ~ Romans 10:15 (nkjv)


Friday, I found God in a dream.  

I find Him there sometimes in the wee morning hours before dawn, but this time was different. The sunlight streamed through the window, warm and sweet, as I lay napping.  It is a rarity that I ever nap.  Sleep often eludes me even as the rest of the world is tucked in tight not letting the bed bugs bite.  But this afternoon, as I struggled to write, my eyes heavily blinking, finally drooping, it was then that I finally gave in to sleep.  I tucked myself into bed, snuggled under the covers.

God gave me a nap.  And it was good.

Then the phone rang.  I sat up straight in the bed and gasped for air.  I am certain my heart was close to exploding. I felt confused and disoriented as I sat there.  I tried to recall what I had been dreaming, but all I could see in my head was white script on black: Chapter 33. Then images flooded my mind: what some would call Bible thumpers and Jesus freaks holding placards with bold words – the end is nigh, save yourselves; people permeated with fear rushing about the city streets screaming.  It was complete and utter chaos.  And it was not the quiet kind I am ever-seeking.  In the midst were people standing still, quietly, diligently, praying and watching the pandemonium unfold.

For the next two hours, I struggled to find the significance of Chapter 33.  In the middle of dinner I finally made the connection. Sometimes during my quiet time with God, instead of working on my designated Bible study, I will open my Bible and read for a while.  That morning I had opened The Message and it fell open to the first page of Ezekiel. On the left page there was a description about Ezekiel and on the right was chapter one.  Before I started reading, there were only two things that I knew about Ezekiel:  First, he was a prophet and second, God called him son of man, made him eat a scroll and Ezekiel wrote to us that it tasted like honey in sweetness (3:3).  So, I began reading what Peterson had to say about him:

Catastrophe strikes and a person’s world falls apart.  People respond variously, but two of the more common responses are denial and despair. Denial refuses to acknowledge the catastrophe. It shuts its eyes tight and looks the other way; it manages to act as if everything is going to be just fine; it takes refuge in distractions and lies and fantasies.  Despair is paralyzed by the catastrophe and accepts it as the end of the world.  It is unwilling to do anything, concluding that life for all intents and purposes is over. Despair listlessly closes its eyes to a world in which all the color has drained out, a world gone dead.  Among Biblical writers, Ezekiel is our master at dealing with catastrophe. When catastrophe struck…denial was the primary response. Ezekiel found himself living among a people of God who stubbornly refused to see what was right before their eyes (the denial crowd).  There were some who were unwilling to see anything other than what was right before their eyes (the despair crowd).

But Ezekiel saw.  He saw what the people with whom he lived either couldn’t or wouldn’t see.  He saw in wild and unforgettable images, elaborated in exuberant detail – God at work in a catastrophic era.  The denial people refused to see that the catastrophic was in fact catastrophic.  How could it be?  God wouldn’t allow anything that bad happen to them.  Ezekiel showed them.  He showed them that, yes, there was catastrophe, but God was at work in the catastrophe, sovereignly using the catastrophe.  He showed them so they would be able to embrace God in the worst of times. The despair people, overwhelmed by the devastation, refused to see that life was worth living.  How could it be? They lost everything or would soon…Ezekiel showed them.  He showed them that God was and would be at work in the wreckage and rubble, sovereignly using the disaster to create a new people of God...

There, I stopped reading.  I am constantly in awe of the things God will put directly in front of me.  And this was one of those moments.  I have told you that I am writing a book.  My book is about finding God in the midst of tragedy and affliction.  It is about not finding Him on the other side of the trial, but finding Him walking beside us with every step we take.   It is about knowing that God will never allow our destruction, but will rebuild us into newer and better people,  stronger and wiser people, people prepared to carry out His will.

And I know about denial.  I know about despair and desperation and affliction.  Six years ago, tragedy struck our family.  A truck rear-ended me at 70 mph as I was stopped in traffic.  I was 8 months pregnant with my first daughter and my 2 ½ year old son was in the car with me.  I spent months in the hospital recovering.  My husband, my oldest son who is now nineteen, and I walk a road that many before us have walked.  We aren’t bad people and the question has been posed to me often, “Why would God allow this to happen to you?”  Then the inquirer waits for an answer as if I have some secret access to God’s mind.  But maybe the access is not secret.  Maybe I am just willing to see God in places few are willing to look. Bit by bit, He reveals to me the things He wishes me to know creating a wiser me.  He walks beside me creating a stronger and more faithful me.  He performs miracles that leave me breathless and in awe of His sovereignty.  He teaches me to see Him in all of His glory as He breaks through desperation and despair and denial and affliction.  So you can see why I felt an immediate connection to Ezekiel in this moment. The words that Peterson wrote describing Ezekiel resonated with me and it was as if God was speaking to me. “Hey. Don’t give up.  I am working here.  Hang in there.”

Now I know that you are hanging on and saying, “yeah, but what about the dream???”

Over the past few months, I have been feeling led to be a bit more evangelistic.  I was raised Southern Baptist so this is not something I am unfamiliar with, however, I know it is not my primary spiritual gift.  What I learned this weekend as I read, studied and analyzed this information is that evangelizing doesn’t necessarily mean knocking on someone’s door and sharing the Bible with them.  It can, but it also means that we use our own gifts to share the gospel with others.  That can mean art or songs, it can mean teaching or hospitality.  The ways we evangelize are only limited by God's imagination and really, is there any limit there? In my case, it means writing and sharing how God speaks to me and where I find Him. It has been in the past few months that I have, as I told you before, begun opening my Bible and just reading it.  I think it is no coincidence that my Bible fell open to Ezekiel that morning.  I think it is no coincidence that I had a dream where God was giving me a message.  I am a extremely literal person.  God speaks to me in a very literal way.  I am a visual person and seeing words and pictures will clarify meaning when other methods do not work.  I am passionate about what I believe in and what I believe in the most is bringing God’s truth forward.  I have vivid dreams and I believe that sometimes, He will use those dreams to speak to me. I am not claiming to be a prophet.  I am not claiming to be any more special that anyone else God placed on His earth.  I am very simply sharing with you that, occasionally, God chooses to speak to me in this manner. I do not believe that He is urging me to stand on a street corner creating chaos and perpetuating fear, shouting, “the end is nigh.”  I do believe that this dream has certain meaning.

I live in chaos.  My mind races constantly and the racing feeds my insomnia.  I am rarely, if ever, still. It is not uncommon in the Bible that God caused people to fall into a deep sleep.  I was sleeping very soundly Friday afternoon.  I think that God just needed me to be still and quiet and without distraction for just a little while.  If it took a nap, then so be it.  In my dream is complete chaos.  Earlier I described it as pandemonium.  Now look at the word pandemonium and break it down…in the middle is this word: DEMON. What does the ruler of demons do? He creates FEAR.  People were running and screaming with fear and within all of the chaos are people standing still and praying to God.  Is scripture coming to mind?  Maybe…Be still and know that I am God.  God is sovereign and controls all situations, even catastrophe and chaos. He can control pandemonium as well if we are still and diligently praying to Him, listening for a response and for guidance.  If we are obedient, then lives are saved.  Not because we issue a threat – Repent or else, but because we show that God is good and worthy of our reverence by giving us a most precious gift in Jesus.

Chapter 33 talks about a watchman’s duty…this is quoted from The Message:

God’s message came to me: “Son of man, speak to your people. Tell them, ‘If I bring war on this land and the people take one of their citizens and make him their watchman, and if the watchman sees war coming and blows the trumpet, warning the people, then if anyone hears the sound of the trumpet and ignores it and war comes and takes him off, it’s his own fault. He heard the alarm, he ignored it – it’s his own fault. If he had listened, he would have saved his life. But if the watchman sees war coming and doesn’t blow the trumpet, warning the people, and war comes and takes anyone off, I’ll hold the watchman responsible for the bloodshed of any unwarned sinner.’ ~ Ezekiel 33:1-6

As I read these words, I felt the crushing weight of responsibility we bear as Christians.  It also reminded me of a favorite scripture in Isaiah:

How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who proclaims peace, who brings glad tidings of good things, who proclaims salvation, who say to Zion, “Your God reigns!” Your watchmen shall lift up their voices, with their voices they shall sing together; For they shall see eye to eye when the Lord brings back Zion. Break forth into joy, sing together, you waste places of Jerusalem! For the Lord has comforted His people, He has redeemed Jerusalem.  The Lord has made bare His Holy Arm in the eyes of all nations; And all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God. ~ Isaiah 52:7-10

God may have made Ezekiel a watchman, but clearly, here in Isaiah, God is telling us that we are all responsible for being watchmen.  The word is plural.

So here is my question: What are we doing to bring the glad tidings of good things to all the peoples of the world? 

If we are watchmen, are we consistently listening for God’s guidance and acting in obedience when He calls?  Are we ever still and quiet enough to hear Him speak?  Are we praying for opportunity to spread the word of God to those who are seeking it?  Are we studying and preparing ourselves for the moment that God presents us with an opportunity?  Are we equipping others to save their own lives?

I wonder.

I have questions.

I pray.

Faithfully, God listens and then proclaims truth.  His truth was incredibly and undeniably sobering to me because I know that I cannot answer yes to all of those questions consistently.

You are probably wondering why I posted pictures of honey bees in this blog.  Honey bees are diligent workers.  Every day, they wake up and search out clover or flowers for nectar so that they can make honey.  Saturday afternoon, they were working away in a little patch of clover in my front yard.  I believe that we need to be more like little honey bees.  We need to diligently search out those who do not know Jesus and give them the words of God to feed upon.  Ezekiel tells us they taste like honey in sweetness.  And is there anything sweeter than God’s truth?

a little note

Hello to my good and  faithful readers.....

A blog entry is coming.  I apologize that it has been a few days since my last post.  I have been a little under the weather. I have been working on a new entry the past couple of days and it is a little different and I would like it to be perfect just for you.  It will post in the next 24 hours I promise.  Thank you for your patience and persistence in checking back in...I have been happy to see my little ticker climbing.  Thanks to all who have passed my blog on to others.  Do not be concerned that if you use the e-mail-this-blog link and receive an error message; it still goes through. I will be adding a box so you can subscribe by e-mail if you wish.

In Christ,

Peace and Love and Blessings,

Elizabeth