Recreated

I’d made a mess. 

I’ve kept a journal for years, but only recently have I discovered the craft of junk journals.  Junk journals sound like something no one would be interested in, want, or look at twice.  But the name will fool you. 

I’ve been incorporating junk journal pages into my morning devotion time.  And the other morning I planned to copy my study scripture onto a page in my vintage journal, imagining something that resembled a Pinterest post.  What I ended up with looked like a sloppy mess; a waste of a coffee-stained vintage page for my journal.

But God whispered recreation to my spirit, “Create again.  Nothing is wasted in my kingdom.”

So I covered the page with other papers and trims. As I did, scriptures of God making all things new and of us being new creatures in Christ flooded my thoughts.  And the practice of writing the scripture, even though I’d covered it, reminded me of hiding His Word in my heart to keep me from sinning against Him and His Word.

My creative spirit comes from the Father who made me, Creator God.  Being made in His image, who better to help me learn so much more than a new craft!
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and have put on the new man who is renewed in knowledge according to the image of Him who created him,  Col 3:10 NKJV

Sing!

She sings all the time. 

You recognize some of her songs.  I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart…..where? down in my heart…where?  Jesus loves me this I know….

Some are a new song written in the moment, literally.  I’m having a tea party….I’m playing with my Minnie Mouse….

And at times the lyrics are of another language, all her own – garbled vocals, words unknown but with enthusiasm and unmistakable joy.

Children see something to sing about in things we overlook.  Their joy is contagious and on your worst day you’ll find your heart welcomes the melody of their delight.

And songs of garbled words?  They’re like a heart praying in the Spirit, whether singing songs of praise or grief, which are heard clearly and received by our heavenly father.

She’s singing His songs. Don’t you know He’d love for us to join her?

Praise ye the Lord: for it is good to sing praises unto our God; for it is pleasant; and praise is comely. Psalm 147:1 KJV

Moments and Musings

Ah, Martha.  You're one of us, you know?  When we slow down long enough to look, we catch our reflection in your spotless mirror.  We see ourselves, then quickly rush on, our to-do lists calling.

We stand, our hand reaching for the potholder, glancing over our shoulders at Mary, straining to hear a word of encouragement or praise, and, like you, we're conflicted.

https://www.stockfreeimages.com/1969593/Abstract-Fruits-Mirror.html

I've felt this  connection to the Bethany sisters for many years.  I've dreamed of a devotional book based on meditations inspired by their lives and others in the pages of our Bible.

I long to invite other Marthas to join me for deeper study and conversation around His Word, but my Martha spirit churns and threatens to strangle my dream.

So, sisters, would you be interested in sharing some M-and-M's ......Moments and Musings for our Martha/Mary hearts?  If so, chime in and feel free to share the invitation with other kindred spirits. 

What Will We Do?

Spring! Blooming trees, tulips, buttercups, pansies, wild green onions, weeping willows, breeze-tickled ponds and streams. The days’ soundtrack harmonizes cardinals cheering; chickadees chick-a-dee, dee, deeing; children giggling; lawnmowers humming.

Spring, for me, equals resurrection wonder. But with the beauty and wonder comes a nauseating mindfulness. The life, death and resurrection certainly didn't look or sound much like the beauty I see in spring days.

Rereading the story of Jesus' last days, his betrayal, and crucifixion, I see that most of life and the way I perceive it, the way I pursue it, the way I process it evolves around the answer to one question: What will I do with Jesus?

The Jewish leaders decided what they would do with Jesus. The following He was gaining, the work He was doing, the claims to be the Son of God had to be stopped. Unable to end His life under their laws, they took Jesus to Pilate with a plan. The shifting of responsibilities and the blame game was on.

But Pilate knew how to play, too. "What are your charges against this man?" said Pilate to the angry mob. "Well, we'd not have brought him here if he'd not committed evil," they retort.

Pilate serves, "Then take him and judge him by your laws."

"Well, by our laws we can't kill him – we can kill no one under our laws," they return.

So the death game continues, back and forth, the volley of the ball of guilt. Players, they thought. Oh, little did they know……

Before time began, before a single one of them had breathed their first breath the Plan was in place. God knew there was no winning the games we would play without a perfect redeeming Lamb.
They thought they were directing an end to their problems, when, in fact, they were part of an ends to the means of saving a world that would die an eternal, hopeless death without a Savior. So He came……

So spring comes every year, to the earth, to my heart, to the world. It comes in the beauty of nature. It comes in the shadow of the cross; in the damp coolness of a tomb, rock rolled back, death cloths emptied, morning sun peeking through a symphony of birdsong.

Praise God, Jesus came; he died; he arose; and He's coming again!

What will I do with Jesus? What will you do with Jesus?

Who am I?

Draping his shoulders, anticipating the honor and respect that always saturated the air, I am shocked, realizing something is terribly wrong as they place the crown on his head. Thorns! "Hail, King of the Jews!" The words were right but they were jeering, mocking and spitting. His blood mingled with my rich dyes as they crushed the brambled ring into his scalp and brows. I inhaled deeply the sweat and earth as all of life stopped, and I was sucked into a vacuum of darkness.

Transported, I watched with wilted heart from wisteria as they left the garden, but hope resurrected as I was called into service in the tabernacle and the courts of the children of Israel. I heard he was coming. They heard he was coming. What now?

And in a flash I sparkled amethyst bright and bold, joined by my fellow precious gems, our lights dimmed by His presence enthroned. New heaven, new earth -- everything new -- everything here, everyone here, reflecting His glory.

I fall at his feet as they lead him away. You can't strip him of his royalty and his honor. Oh horror, you cannot crucify hope! Gloat today, ignorant of your role in the very deliverance for which all of creation groans.

I am purple, but He is Lord!

A Little Light, Please

Brown, not black. I couldn’t tell the difference as I fumbled in my sock drawer, in a hurry for work. Low light in the bedroom coupled with a vision problem made it impossible to know the difference without assistance.

My cell phone’s flashlight provided the exact tool to solve the problem. The answer was right at my fingertips.

In a world of a billion choices – tweets & texts; posts & pins – I am quickly overwhelmed and easily distracted. Daily devotion time is crucial and life-giving; without it, I starve and strive.

Technology has placed the Word in our hands and at our fingertips on our phones, tablets, and computers. We are blessed to possess the Word in print without fear of persecution … yet. It's the Light on our devices and nightstands.

I can’t promise I’ll post on a schedule, but I’d love to have you journey with me on a path where our steps are illuminated and the big picture is growing clearer. Our sustenance is the Word; it is the one thing needful – Jesus.

 

Will you join me? Let’s travel!

Five More Days

Surely I’m not the only one.

As each weekend approaches I feel I will have time, make time, for rest. Rest to me, though, is rarely a nap or sitting and watching the sun set. It is usually time spent creating something, anything – writing, sewing, a thousand little things – exhaling a week of striving. Then most Sunday afternoons find me still striving on the treadmill of life, blinking back tears of frustration as the work week appears on the horizon and dashes my hopes for five more days.

In her book Whispers of Rest, Bonnie Gray writes:

Are you weary under the weight of holding everything together? …. Jesus sees the weight of all the loose ends locked away in the quiet corners of your heart.  He aches for you and longs to free you with his complete understanding.  His loving presence will guide and help you today.

The loose ends got me. The loose ends get me.

All these loose ends are just life’s little things, like laundry, clutter, bill paying, grocery shopping, errands, and housekeeping. I love my family and want to always be available to help them (OK, I just heard my mama’s voice). Making time for me feels so selfish. But the tyranny of the urgent, at work and at home, can strangle the life out of us if we don’t pause and regroup.

It’s Monday, but it’s going to be fine.  In five more days I will get it all done, right?

For more of Bonnie's Whispers of Rest, see her site here.