Like a Ravioli

"We call him the Grandaddy", the neighbor man told me, speaking of the huge pecan tree at the edge of our sweet little homestead.  It was love at first sight for me, because I left Oklahoma with lots of trees and my kids, so if I couldn't be close to the kids at least give me some trees.  

It's not a place you go.  It's a place you enter.  With limbs bowing to earth, it's like entering a room.  A holy place.  I feel different when I'm in there.

 Hemmed in.

Even the hanging metal swing/chair my sweet hubby gave me wraps around me like a cocoon.  A metal prayer shawl, if you will.

Psalms 134 : 5-6  You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.  Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain it.

I've felt very loved on by the Lord the last week or so.  Over and over He has reminded me of His protection and love.  Of being hemmed in.  I'm so amazed by Him.

Over and over He has reminded.  Kneeling at prayer place with blanket over my head, He reminded me.  Hemmed.

Ravioli on the cover of a magazine makes my face smile.
Just like that !
Just like ravioli !
Tucked in and sealed in, safe and sound.  Pinched around the edges.  Hemmed.

Michael reaching over to tuck sheet in all down behind me so I have plenty of covering.  Tucked.  Hemmed.

Giving shoulder and wrapping arms around grieving grandma after holding the little one for the last time.   Praying she felt the comfort of the Comforter.  Hemmed in by Him.

Momma hen crawling on quilt nest, moving babies-not-done around to cook on the other side, then sitting full down. Hemming them in.  Sweet protection.

Not only does He hem me in, it says also that He lays His hand upon me.  

When my babies were little, after I rocked them to sleep, I would lay them down and put my hand gently on the side of their little face to comfort them until they were resting deeply.  Feeling safe.  Feeling hemmed outside the womb by their momma.

He loves me like that.  He keeps showing me over and over.

Because Monday had an interruption not expected and because Tuesday had a stomach bug not expected, I'm just now posting my list of thanks.

. . . Grandaddy tree

. . . boys' voices on the phone

. . . hope in voice

. . . letter of blessing from someone I love

. . .  reminders of love from Him

. . . clean bedroom

. . . clean laundry room

. . . seeing girl I miss

. . . talking to girl I really miss

. . . cocoon chair/swing

. . . prayer places

I Want to Want to

This morning as I was driving home from the Farmer's Market with a bag full of fresh tomatoes, I was praying out loud so He could hear me better and I heard 
"I want to want You more".

It came out of my mouth without any planning.

One of those prayers that comes out of nowhere.  Well, on second thought, not out of nowhere.

When you feel all used up and worn out it's easy to stop wanting anything but to sit in a big comfy chair with a diet coke and a Hallmark movie.

The other day I knew I was at that place when I walked through the living room only to catch the last of the Princess Diaries 2 and saw Mia about to be crowned Queen of Genovia. . .

. . . and I cried.

Pathetic, I know.  But it happened.  

Since that time, the desire for a greater godliness, a sincere holiness, has been getting stronger and stronger.

Psalm 42:1 says: As the deer pants for the water, so my soul longs for You, my God.

My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.

I want it.

More than that - I want to want it more.

I want to want Him more.

It was a prayer from His heart to my heart and back to His.

I love when He does that.

I Shall Not Want

To want: (verb) to lack, have decrease, have need

Shepherd: (noun) Yahweh - Supreme God, herdsman

(verb) to tend, to pasture,

There is nothing I need that His hand will not provide. It's the things I want and don't get that put me in a bad place.

So what is it about "The Lord is my Shepherd" that I refuse to grasp?

Instead I wallow around in my hurt. I swim in self pity and dance in the ballroom of

of deception. Buying the lies that I need things that I really only want.

Sometimes I'm desperate in my wanting.

Believing that I cannot live unless I have. Oh Father, show me the difference.

I shared the words to a song once before but I think part of it bears repeating:

When my life is not what I expected

The plans I made have failed

When there's nothing left to steal me away

Will You be enough for me?

Will my broken heart still sing?

I want Him to be enough. I want to put all my wants in the "wants basket" and just give them to Him. Knowing He already gives from the "needs basket". But I'm a selfish child with my hands behind my back refusing Him because it isn't the exact thing I desire.

Why can't I wait for things?

Be content?

Not worry?

Deny myself?

Why can't I just trust the Shepherd Who tends to me? Who will only do what's best for me?

I love the part of the definition of Shepherd to "tend". Tenderness. Tenderly pulling me to Him to comfort hurting, to rest weary, to restore broken.

To hear Him breathe love words to me; His wanting, whining, silly child.

He is my Yahweh - my Supreme God.

I shall lack nothing.

This is Your Testimony

I need to be studying for the retreat this weekend. Studying and buying groceries and many other things but I cannot get the scripture out of my mind that we studied Monday night.

We were in Psalm 129 and 130. In verse 3 of chapter 129 it says that "the plowers plowed upon my back, they made long their furrows". One of the definitions of plow is "to cut in". The last several weeks (months) I've heard of countless stories from women going through really tough stuff. Some of you are dealing with unfaithful husbands, some with suicidal family members, and some with grief. Many of you feel that your backs are laid open by the enemy, bleeding and torn up. You feel beat up, abused, and abandoned. The pain is excruciating.

In verse 4 of the same chapter it says that the Lord is righteous, that He has cut the cords of the wicked. My mind went to the whip (cords) used to lay open the back of Jesus. He knows your pain. He feels every long furrow. Because of that, He can walk you through healing.

The Lord laid on my heart that for all these precious daughters going through so much pain that you are to be encouraged to keep your focus on Jesus.

This is your testimony.

There is a pure holy seed being planted into the furrows and you have to stay grounded in the One Who will harvest that seed for His glory. The enemy wants to plant salty, poky weeds that choke out the fruit of your testimony.

Through this time you will either bring Him honor or bring Him dishonor.

Let the One you honor be your defender.

Want to know the other definition of plow? To "engrave". Ooh boy, my brain jumped to Isaiah 49:16 where it says that He has engraved me on the palm of His hand. Every time He goes to the Father on my behalf, with His hands open, He sees my name engraved, plowed, cut into the palm of His hand.

See? He knows our pain. He's felt it. Trust Him to make something beautiful out of it. It's your testimony.

God, You really, really amaze me.

If it Had Not Been for the Lord

Psalm 124:1-8 says "If it had not been for the Lord Who was on our side - let Isreal now say - If it had not been for the Lord Who was on our side when people rose up against us, then they would have swallowed us up alive, when their anger was kindled against us; then the flood would have swept us away, the torrent would have gone over us; then over us would have gone the raging waters. Blessed be the Lord, who has not given us as prey to their teeth! We have escaped like a bird from the snare of the fowlers; the snare is broken, and we have escaped! Our help is in the name of the Lord who made heaven and earth."

Monday night at the ladies' Bible study we were in Psalm 124. I asked them to fill in the blank for me as I said:

"if it had not been the Lord Who was on my side . . ."

And here were their responses.

" . . . I wouldn't have made it through my husbands' death." (Her husband died 13 years ago.)

" . . . I wouldn't be here alive." (A year ago the doctors didn't give us any hope that her heart would let her live any longer.)

" . . . I wouldn't be married." (A couple of years ago they were ready to call it quits, but now they've let the Lord into their
marriage.)

" . . . I wouldn't be at this church."

" . . . My son would've died last year." (He had a serious heart attack.)

" . . . My daddy wouldn't have been saved." (Her 86 year old daddy accepted Jesus about three years ago and his life has
changed.)

" . . . My son wouldn't have washed your daughters' feet last night." (Her son is Heath I told you about in the previous post.)

Whoa. God you are so good! The tears were testimony of Your Goodness!

And then there were the ones who couldn't say it but I could see it.

Two mommas who had buried their firstborn; one three weeks ago and the other about eight weeks ago. It's only because of the Lord that they can function from day to day.

We have so much to be grateful for. I know God rejoiced because of our worship the other night just by saying how good He was to us. I would love to hear of his faithfulness and goodness to you. Text, email, or comment and fill in the last part of that verse. If you don't tell me, you really need to tell Him.

Now worship Him.

Feast of the Tabernacles

If you live in east Texas you know that fire ants really like it here. What you may not know is that their mode of transportation is water. For real. They all hold legs and ride down the rapids of rain run-off until someone yells "JUMP!" then they all jump off and quickly begin building their mound. We have had bookoos of rain in the last couple of weeks with bookoos more expected in the next two days. Needless to say we have bookoos of fire ant mounds. That is a cute word, isn't it - bookoos?

Yesterday we were all sitting eating lunch and Michael commented on all of the fire ant mounds in our yard. I said, "It reminds me of the Feast of Tabernacles." He said, "That is exactly what I was thinking - the Feast of the Tabernacles." His eyebrows were up so I knew he hadn't thought of the feast at all. Might have even been mocking me a little bit. Surely not.

Anyway, I was just imagining the trip down the water for these little guys. I'm sure in their little ant ways they were laughing, singing, and I'm oh so sure there were a couple of boys scaring their moms by turning loose with most of their legs, shouting "Look ma! no feet!" Can't you just picture it?

For a couple of weeks I was studying about the Feast of Tabernacles and the pilgrimage of the adult Jewish males to the temple to celebrate the ingathering or harvest. Most often they would pack up mama and the little ones to go along for this joyful holiday filled with celebration. There were only three requirements for this holiday: the building of a temporary shelter or booth (to symbolize when the children of Israel dwelled in temporary shelters as God led them through the wilderness and provided for their every need); the taking of four kinds of foliage; and rejoicing all seven days. Just a thought: what if we were required to rejoice the whole time we celebrate our holiday season? Is that possible? A goal, maybe?

When the Jewish people were on their pilgrimages they would sing the Psalms of Ascent beginning with Psalm 120 going through Psalm 134. In Psalm 120 they were in a foreign land longing to be in the presence of their God. Don't you know that the closer they got to their beloved Jerusalem the louder they sang, the more they laughed? They had to have been tired, though. Can you imagine the young moms? I remember what it was like when the girls were babies going across Texas for Christmas. We had a heated suburban, bottles, disposable diapers, and later on, movies that could keep them entertained, but I was pretty stressed by the time we reached Grammy and Opa's.

Their goal was to be where God was because He didn't dwell in their hearts like today. He dwelt in the temple. They were eager to be with Him. Their journey runs so parallel with ours if we really think about it. We are on a journey to our heavenly Jerusalem. There should be joy in the journey. An anticipation that makes the others question the hope that is in us.

The difference is that we have access to Him 24 hours a day but sometimes others can't see the rejoicing in us because we are so overwhelmed with world stuff that it covers up the God stuff. Shame on us. We don't have to walk for miles. We just have to say "Jesus". Whisper "Jesus". Cry "Jesus". Immediately He is there to answer, to crouch over and embrace us, or to let us cry at His feet until we're done. My prayer for me and for you is that we will be eager to be with Him. That we will rejoice daily in the fact that we can call on Him at any time. That others will see that joy.

I'm expecting more tabernacles in the yard in the next few days as fellow sojourners catch up to their relatives. After they celebrate a few days and I know we have no more rainy forecasts, I'll stop pretending they are pilgrims on the way to the temple and start pretending that they are fire ants with a vicious sting. I'll go feed them a little Malt 0 Meal so they will enjoy a little sweetness before they go meet their Maker.

Oh, to be,

to abide, to dwell, to rest, to hide, to breathe, to snuggle, to cover up . . . in the presence of Jesus. Doesn't the thought of that bring tears to your eyes? Just to know that it is even possible? Psalms 91 says "He who dwells in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in Him will I trust. "

This past week has held emotions of extreme joy and soul-wrenching grief: a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance. Sweet. I would find myself trying to put my eye on my Bible - to make sure it was close. One day I was in my own vehicle following Cathy to Midland, and I opened it and laid it on my lap. When I was waiting for the light to turn green or for them to bring out my drink, or while she ran into the cleaners and the bank, I would pick it up and take it in. Take in Jesus. I wasn't suiting up and diving in searching for treasures. I was wading in with my float, climbing on, and with my face towards the Son, I let the Water lap over the sides to calm me. To refresh me. He loves me like that. I love Him a bunch too. Just wanted you to know.