The torches brandished the top of the row
and I shook as the angel bent,
Fear yelled in my ear and I almost fell
under its weight and constant relent.
"RUN!" the Father said, "No time to lose"
and His command surged through my soul;
Wanting to please Him, my Lover, my Lord,
I made His heart's cry my own.
His fingers caressed my cheek aflame,
I knew I'd do anything He asked;
"Go quickly, My beauty, the time is now spent,"
and His urgency made me gasp.
Then the Angel of the Lord with sworn drawn
and His torch hot with flame,
Emblazoned my soul, consumed all my flesh
as I died to self and life's games.
This vessel He's made in His purpose, His plan,
I've come to this apex of time;
Illuminated by His Word of Light,
for my destiny, no demons can bind.
I run down the rows with laughter and joy
at the service He's made me employ;
"He's coming!" I shout with excitement and glee,
amazed what I'm anointed to be;
In His giftings I run, in His Spirit now blaze,
The torch He infamed -- is me!
Be encouraged. These are days of hot flame both of evil and of good for the power and glory of God. There are outright in-in-your-face choices that have to be made. Today. Not tomorrow. Today. Everything is in His timing. Remember, if you have Jesus as Lord in your life you are a Christian first and then a being in the earth. The world may seem at full tilt with everything headed to a global war and annihilation of Jews and Christians -- but I tell you at this moment God's people and His church will win triumphant. This is a day where we need His wisdom and His understanding more than we need CNN, Fox News or endless hours of sports and reruns on satellite TV. We need God. There's only one way to receive Him and that's with an open heart without distraction. Have courage. Have strength in the Lord. There's no time for playing games. No time to "zone out" because of the stress of life.
Have you ever noticed in the story of the ten girlfriends in the Bible (Matthew 25) there was only one call that the "Bridegroom is coming!" Not two or three or four times or "Won'tcha, please?" Nothing like that. There is a "last call" out there for those that will stop the noise and listen. There is a calling, an urgency in the voice. It's the gentle and powerful Spirit of God leading and pulling you to see the goodness of God. It's time. It's now. It's not tomorrow. It's today. There are those that will leave this earth today. There's no guarantees. Not even for you. You may feel you have lots of days left or you may think you have only a few weeks or months. There is a time to live and a time to die. The numbers of days in a person's life are with precision. He gives the breath. He takes it. Let Him lead you into illumination of the King of heaven -- the King of Kings. The Lord of all. He is coming and soon. Sooner than you think. Look up!
Books by Bodie and Brock Thoene
Highly Recommended Reading
Excellent Reading ...
Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy
CG Artworks
Jesus, the consummate storyteller, told a compelling story 2,000 years ago that is just as fresh and alive today as the moment He spoke it. It talks about 10 girlfriends. They all had so much in common. They dressed alike, talked alike, walked alike, carried the same Bible. It’d be hard to tell them apart in a crowd. Their smiles were infectious, their fervor unflagging. Five of them however lacked good judgment and insight. Tagging on the shirttails of the other five, they relied them to nibble at spiritual food, experience the latest goosebumps, or paying high dollar for twisted prophecies in a futile attempt to keep their lamps full of oil. They had their lamps properly filled at one point, but their busy existence now pushed them to the brink of apathy reducing their vessels into smoldering wisps. 
As time passed and the day grew late all grew sleepy. They dozed. The light of their flickering lamps danced in the evening night to music that only the heavenly guard standing silently by could hear. Suddenly, there was a startling loud cry that sliced through the night,"Get up! Get up! He's coming!! The groom is coming!" In the hustle and bustle of becoming awake, smoothing out dresses and straightening hair, five girlfriends noticed their lamps had nearly run out of oil. Didn’t even think about bringing some extra oil. They asked the five with-it girlfriends if they might borrow a little bit so they could light their lanterns again.
"Sorry, but if I give you some I won't have enough for myself. You really need to go get your own. You had the opportunity. Can't live off my light. You need to find it for yourself. If you think you can buy your way to God, go to the ones who sell it." The five freeloaders trotted off to the religious merchants who enchant with their monthly online trinkets, false prophecies, and witchcraft promises. The truth hurts sometimes. But the cutting can be healing if allowed to extract the cancerous evil growth.
After they left, you know what happened, don’t you? Yep. The groom came. With great joy He encircled His five lovers into His arms and personally led them into large wedding party (by invitation only!) and shut the door. (Man, I want to go to that party!)
The five shopaholics now returned to the door of the party. Loaded down with large purses balancing five smoldering lamps, ten burgenong shopping mall bags, uncreased Bibles, and large gallons of old tainted oil, they lifted their arms to knock. Their voices were raised in a discordant chorus, "Lord, Lord, open up! We're here now. Let us in! Haallloooo!"
Some moments passed and then the Lord opened the speak-easy peep opening on the massive wooden door. “Yes?”
“Oh, Lord, there you are. Hi. It’s us. Let us in, will ya? We're here. We're ready now. Sorry we’re late. We were shopping and didn’t realize the time."
His paused silence punctuated the air with finality. "Who are you? I don't know you."
With harumphs they whined, “Well, that’s a fine how do you do. We’ve been to all the conferences, every church party, participated in running “revival,” taken care of bratty kids in the nursery, handed out offering plates in every prayer meeting. Man, we even gave prophesies on the platform in Your Name. And we have been running all over town trying to get some oil so we could see where are going. We have trudged all this way and now the shut and you won’t remember us? We’re the girlfriends in your house. Surely you remember us now. We’re the ones that always sit on the right-hand side in the fifth row from the back. Remember now?”
* * * * *
You know where this is going, don’t you? It’s an old story and yet as timeless as a pair of shoes. You can dress the same, look the same, go to the same meetings, sing the same songs, even carry the same Bible -- but if you have never had a lover relationship with Jesus ... well, the door is definitely shut. Just that simple. No ifs, ands or buts about it. The only way to heaven is through Jesus, not through nature or trees or mystic energies or tarot cards or alcohol or drugs or the nearest Indian casino. It’s Jesus. He only is the door.
It’s not a church, a denomination or how many good deeds you can do. It’s not even because you’re a “good person” or a mighty philanthropist. The Bible says “If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.” (1 Cor. 13:3). Wow. Nothing. (Selah: which loosely translated means to pause and chew on that for awhile.) Most of the time these beautiful “love verses” of Cor. 13 has been used to define how we should love one another. But the love and reverential fear of God is the greatest of all. Out of that flows the meaning of life, the ability to live and love better, higher, stronger and with more excellence than ever before. It generates meaningful existence, implants courageous feats, imbues wisdom to execute equity and righteousness in all life’s dealings. It turns things that are skewed and upside down into right perspective, a clearing of the mind and heart.
Sounds noble and beyond reach? Not really. All it takes is the silent outreach of a heart to a God who is listening. He’s sitting on the windowsill of heaven with his arm reaching down to you. He’s really not that far away. He’s smiling at you. You are the crown of his creation, the joy of His heart and He wants to have an intimate relationship with you. To be the only One that matters. Some may say that’s nuts. To you, it may be a bead of hope that you can grab onto with your hands and let Him swing you into His world. You’ll never be sorry. Ever.
This is a timeless story for today. Don’t be a person piggybacking on others letting them do all the praying, the searching, all the studying of God's Word. Don’t rely on TV preachers or even your favorite (or not-so-favorite) teacher down the street feed you like a baby bird unable to fly on your own. The anointing of God is free and rich for all, but individual. It’s nonnegotiable. You have to get it for yourself.
Dare I say it? Don’t be a “dumb girlfriend” when you can be a true lover of God.
It's quiet here, Lord, but
I speak out your praises.
I shout them out in my spirit. Hear the silent shouts!
Shout with proclamations of praise, stampede stupidity
and fear so they run in panic into dry and desolate places.
May the scapegoat of doubt not find refuge
and die on the rocks of vain imaginations.
The white cord of faith on the door of my heart has turned red --
by the Blood of Jesus -- and I am safe in the arms of God.
He sits enthroned there in peace and I safely am pillowed in Him,
Listening to Him hum along with me
the tunes I created solely for a performance to One
Stand Up! And praise Him -- Meet your Creator,
Bow at the feet of the wondrous fabricator of hearts, souls and spirits,
the One who made you complete and whole
missing nothing. Dance before Him! The dance of freedom.
Freedom won in violence by those who take it by force.
He has shown Himself strong and worthy.
This is the One who loves me....and you.
You have turned for me my mourning into dancing.
You have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with [crystal threads of] gladness.
To the end that my glory may sing praise to you and NOT be silent.
O Lord My God, I will give thanks to You forever!! (Psa. 30:11-12)
My praise dances a solo dance.
He captures it in His heart like a video clip and plays it often
in the theater of His heart so that my praise of the morning
is with Him all day until I dance around His throne in the evening
simply for the joy of knowing Him. I can't wait until I can be alone
to talk and laugh and cry and sing and sit with Him in awe.
The echo of His words reverberate in my spirit as I work
and live before Him in fluid and never-ending grace.
Put your best face forward. Strike a pose. The one that is transfixed at His beauty.
He films your praise as a treasured film -- a heavenly box office blockbuster
A stage to mount the winds of change for a play of abundant grace and benefits.
Praise Him extravagantly.
He's listening.
He's watching.
He's smiling with joy ... at you.
"They're married in name only. There's nothing else there." We've all heard it one time or another referring to a couple who share nothing in life, living in separate spheres without intimacy or affirming affection. What is in a name anyway? What is it? Something just on a piece of paper or much more? Some women don't want to take the name of their husbands upon marriage choosing rather to brand themselves individually and separately. Something they want to cling to from another time and another space, maybe giving deference to a treasured father or simply for business convenience.
There are men and women who make a name for themselves through unflinching courage, extraordinary bravery, uncommon strength, and unswerving devotion. Names can mean several things in a myriad of ways. Names of family members take on duplicity in that they not only bear the family name but also ranking title within the family tree: father, mother, aunt, uncle, brother, sister.
Cruel derogatory names slash harshly. A soul can bear scars lasting a lifetime notwithstanding race, age or gender.
Before the feminist movement tried to twist God's design of a beautiful woman into being some kind of cooky Amazon weirdo, there was the sense of honor in taking a man's name. One took upon herself not only his name but his reputation, his wealth (or lack thereof), his home, his place in society, everything that came under that banner, that symbol of a name. Then came the movement of just living together. A freeloading type of lifestyle that didn't give any sense of belonging or covenant. A live-in arrangement of conjugal convenience rather than deepening commitment to a oneness of strength to face whatever life may bring together until death without making provision for splitting apart.
The genesis of oneness through marriage wasn't something man drummed up. God Himself placed the ring of love around both Adam and Eve and pronounced them one. One not only name but in intimacy and love. It's been a perfect design all along, predetermined before anybody showed up on the planet. While still wet ink on the plans spread out on a crystal table in the halls of God, one Name alone stood out above all names. The Father knew what was going to happen. We'd mess it up. We'd have no way out. Fatality of spirit, soul, and body would set people adrift in a sinful world. God's Son -- the only One He has, by the way -- said, "You know what? I know you love them more than breath itself. There's only one to do it. Redeem them myself. They can't save themselves so we'll save them. I'll be happy to do it for you at the expense of my life and then give them My Name in exchange." Perfect.
Well. The thing is, He actually did it. He came and did the right thing and gave up His own life for yours. A great exchange, don't you think? If you don't take Him up on it -- boy, howdy, I don't know. How could you pass up a deal like that? It's not a made-up fairy tale or some religious contrivance aimed at your checkbook or brainwashing reducing you to simple-minded Ralston mush. Religion tries to make it ooey-gooey with namby-pamby artwork and Bible-thumping charlatans whose intentions are simply to enlarge the base of their own ministries. But, ooh, it's so much more than that. So much more.
Jesus made a huge mark. He made a Name for Himself with extraordinary courage, obedience, and joy. And when you accept that magnificent gift of love and life He holds out to you free of charge without malice or accusation -- whew, there's quite an exchange. He gives you His name. Christian. And you are under all that that Name implies now: health, vigor, strength, freedom, forgiveness and more. There are attributes of God that could fill pages, books and galaxies for what that Name implies.
The world is aflame. People lives are snuffed out without thought. Politicians rife with evil and malicious ideologies are bent on the demise of democracy and fair justice. Families are in enmity with one another even to the point of murder: Husbands killing wives; mothers killing children; estranged lovers killing whole families. Weather randomly and carelessly spins out of control snuffing out lives without thought. The earth is heaving with contractions in a desired longing to see the revealing of the sons of God. Where will it lead to? How can anyone make sense out of any of it?
There is a verse that has been repeatedly expressed in the past few years and its import is more valid now than ever before. It doesn't say that if we vote in the right president (or take out an evil one) or if our economy would just recover or we get the right job or we take out the evil dictators it will make everything be all right again and we can go back to watching 17 episodes of American Idol and waiting for someone else to spiritually feed us when we have some time. God help us. We need something more. Something big. Something much more for a nation in dire peril. And here it is:
"If My people, who are called by My name, shall humble themselves, pray, seek, crave, and require of necessity My face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven, forgive their sin, and heal their land." (2 Chron. 7:14)
Notice it didn't say anything about an election or some charismatic figure or ministry or specific denomination. It's across the board. The ones who call themselves after His Name, his character. Calling on Him under His banner. His protection, His wealth, His healing, His forgiveness. If we would tear down the high places of our hearts, of our community, of our nation; if we would pray, seek, and crave His presence and turn away from our wicked ways -- not selective, but ALL of them -- we would once again be a strong, viable, and wealthy nation. One that can hold out its hands to others to help, to encourage, and strengthen. My heart hurts for my country, for my countrymen, and the viability of it in the world. But I have a part to play. It is to seek God. It is to pray that I will turn from those things which impede me from hearing the heart of God and living in obedience to Him. I don't want to be isolated from His Name. In being called after the Father may the world know that we are Christians by our love, not by our meaningless pasty labels of split denominations or sectors. We are all one body in Christ if you are called by His Name. For we are not of ourselves; we are in Him.
You see, it truly is all in a Name. And that Name is: Jesus.
Excited chatter filled the large auditorium with heightened expectancy. Ticket stubs firmly in hand people hurried to their seats and nestled into the place of musical storytelling at its best -- professional live musical theater. A quick glance at the program revealed the actors, directors, musicians and technical personnel who in a chorus of one lended their talents to bring characters of a long-beloved tale to life once again on an open stage.
The lights dimmed and voices droned down to silence in that anticipatory moment when the audience collectively held their breath for the first downbeat of the orchestral score. They were not disappointed. When the music started all were in awe of the full symphony of music that cocooned the audience in a another time and space. Lights on the stage became brighter, the large maroon velvety curtains slowly pulled back and the story began. For the next two hours the audience was transfixed with the beauty and mastery of skill honed by years of intense lessons, diligent practice, and determination to reach the goal of their God-given talents. It paid off. In the end thunderous applause met the troupe and they reciprocated with bows and thank yous before they exited the stage.
Any musician knows a cellist doesn't belong in the horn section and the horns don't belong in the violin section. There is an assigned seat and that is the only one you are to occupy. There are those in organizations where they don't belong simply because they don't know the score. They don't know their place and worse, haven't practiced their musical score. The result is discordant resulting at times with pain, confusion and unfortunately outright rejection.
These are turbulent times. No one standing on earth need tell you that. It's frightening clear to those who don't know the score. It's important to study the music. To be prepared for when the lights dim and the world holds its collective breath for the downbeat of the revealing of the sons of God. It will be a jaw-dropping moment for the beauty of the Lord will encompass the earth like a cocoon and in the next revealing moments all will see Him for who He is.
In an orchestra sometimes you play; sometimes you don't. There are times of rest, there are times of furious and seemingly frantic notes that scamper across the audience in lightning speed. You'll need to know how to read the score, be able to keep time, the crescendo of the sound, when to soften and temper, when to count the measures of the Lord.
It may seem like you've sat in the same seat in your section of the orchestra for years. Nothing has happened, nothing has changed, and yet the years that compile seem more a like a meaningless cacophony than a symphony. Be encouraged. Your best days, your best moments to play the heartbeat of God are before you. They truly are! Don't let the devil talk you out of it -- he isn't worth it. Your part in the song of God may occur for many days or only a moment, but that moment will shine like the stars of heaven forever in that your obedience to the call He placed within your heart. It will sound out in fullness the story of Jesus to a world that has no clue.
Waiting. Tick-tock. The time runs through an hour glass like water from a faucet. But God! What do I do?
"Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength." (Isa. 40:30-31). I used to think that was like waiting at a bus stop for transportation that never seemed to arrive, a frustrating and fruitless exercise of works. But really, nothing could be farther from the truth. Waiting is simply counting out the measures as in a score of music until your time to once again play out His tune. The thing is, you're not only counting so you don't miss your place in the score; you're keeping watch. You're looking at the conductor, the One who gives the cues.
Look at Him now. He's looking right at you. Keep studying the score (the Word of God), practice your lessons (obedience to the Lord), take your rightful place (not some contrivance man would try to mold you into their image), and then watch. Watch Him. Study Him. And you will see it. You will see it plain as day. For He has held up two fingers pointing right at you, then turning His hand of love around to Himself, He points at his own eyes while mouthing the words, "WATCH ME." I am transfixed. My body is poised on my instrument. I have studied for this moment. I have prayed for this opportunity and He has heard my prayer.
Fiddling with a stray thread on the bottom of my shirt, I stared at the floor. Wasn't sure just how the events that had recently unfolded in my life led me here. It had seemed so simple long ago. But now the jaded envelope of life enclosed around me stealing and sealing my fate. At a friend's suggestion I trudged myself here, but I was uneasy, unsteady and definitely not prepared for what my mind was screaming, "This is a mistake!!" Without thought, I flipped open a magazine that had been tossed in the empty seat beside me. With familiar disappointment, I quickly scanned the ad nauseum ads, stories that held no interest, and worthless subscriptions vying for the opportunity to glue themselves to my wallet.
That this heart of mine embraces all day through
In that small café, the park across the way
The children's carousel, the chestnut trees, the wishing well
I'll be seeing you in every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you that way
I'll find you in the mornin' sun
And when the night is new
I thought I had said goodbye that morning. Did I? Didn't I? Or what if I would have ... with a sigh of defeated resignation I had to tell myself I didn't remember. But when the policemen came to my door and the the world reeled at the news of a love lost forever, the axis of life shifted and I tumbled from reality into a place of shock. Everything after spiraled. Snippets and snapshots of life fanned before me as my soul reminded me of events that left me shattered not only because of the loss of David, but at the times when I hadn't been my best, lashed out at others or let the bruising of life cause deep gashes of shame, anger, resentment and unforgiveness unattended to and like the Samaritan story from the Bible, I had been left for dead, as it were, another of life's casualties that didn't make it in success. I'd tried chasing after this and that. Gotten good at it, too. But in the end, it didn't make me truly happy. Not the things. Not the money (or the lack of it). Not the new person in my life. Nothing. After all, I thought I was a good person. Things just didn't happen like this to good people, did it? I mean, is it really --
"Jennifer Lassen?"
I lifted my head quickly, shaking worn-out cycled thoughts of fatigued depression, guilt, and anxiousness. "Yes, I -- I'm here." Rising from my chair the ashes of my thoughts tumbled and littered where I had sat. "Your mind is working overtime. Get it together, Jennifer," I mumbled to myself.
The assistant had a broad smile on her face as if I was the only person in the room. Didn't really believe that. It's part of her job, I reasoned. Part of the routine. Part of the price of peace. A farcical play of pretense. I played along putting on my good-to-see-you-too routine so I wouldn't lose face. Silly, wasn't it. But pleasantries and niceties are currency of relationships and the reciprocating price is low comparatively no matter if given with genuineness or not. I acquiesced to being nice myself.
The room was inviting lacking the usual sterile environs that accompanied a visit of this sort. She led me to a surprisingly comfortable chair while handing me a steaming cup that held my favorite tea. "Wow, this is great," I said with thankfulness. The chair surrounded me in warmth as did the liquid that passed my lips warding off the chill trying to recirculate doom and gloom in the rooms of my heart.
The assistant closed my file and placed it in a holder on the wall. "He'll be in in just a moment." She turned and left the room leaving me to thoughts that echoed off the walls, "What are you doing here, what are you doing here, what are you doing here?" Sitting there I stared at all the items in the room that would hold either terror of mind or soothing of spirit depending upon your malady at the moment. I looked for certificates or diplomas or something that would assuage my feelings of uncertainty about the qualifications of such a healer. My friend had recommended him, but really and truly, what did I know of him? Just what people had said and I had learned a long time ago, you can't trust what everybody says. Don't let naivety be your guide. I saw a yellowed and faded parchment in unfamiliar script encased in glass. I immediately wanted to get up and inspect it to see if I could gain my insight about him. This could be what held the clue.
But then the door opening interrupted those thoughts and he entered the room. Not at all in a hurry, he looked at me and smiled a broad smile. His face was riveting. Eyes like fire that seemed to look all the way through me to the tag brand on my shirt. He was tall, dark -- and quite frankly, handsome to a undefinable fault. He sat down across from me and paused as if he had something he really wanted to say, almost like I didn't need to tell him anything and that he knew everything.
"Life has been a bit rough, hasn't it?" He took my hand. His touch was full of compassion and his attentiveness to me was without guile in any form, not beguiling or intrusive. Truly with mercy and peace. I couldn't quite explain it now and probably thinking back I never will. It was one of those moments of lucidity when everything comes into focus and the path to alignment is not all that far away.
In that moment, I couldn't help it. There was no way to stop it. I had thought before I got here, I'm going to definitely have the "upper hand" in this conversation. I would get what I could from the professional to stop the bleeding of life. I would tell him what I needed in a no-nonsense manner. But here in this simplistic moment where love reigned as king through the one who gave it, the emotions collided with my stubborn will. I could not speak. Tears flowed unchecked, streaming hot down my cheeks.
"People have treated you with gross injustice, haven't they? There also have been moments that were complicit where you have said and done things you wished you could take back, but knew as soon as they were released that would never happen. It's a bruising of soul, a destruction, something you cannot redeem. Only I can do that. I died just for you so that you can be healed body, soul and spirit."
My head was nodding up and down in short quick affirmations. The things that he went on to say laid out all that had been done to me and from me. Nothing I could dodge or ameliorate, contest or feign ambivalence. All was wide open.
He placed his hand on my heart and said with all kindness and love, "Your heart is beautiful to me. I have been trying to win your heart for myself for a very long time. The home of your heart has been defaced with graffiti laced with vehement angst against you. I love you so very much. If you would give your heart to me, I will make it a manor, a place of beauty where my name is forever etched with a diamond nib dipped with my very own blood."
In that instant I knew where my future was cast. It wasn't in the shallowness of cardboard religion, the enticement of the world's unending parties or political agendas, not even in the on-and-off-again relationships -- but one on one with this man of strength, power and kingship. The Lord. The Messiah. King Jesus Himself, the Healer, the Bread of Life, the Lover of my soul.
"Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, give yourself up to Him, take yourself out of your own keeping and entrust yourself into His keeping and you will be saved, and this applies both to] you and your household as well."
"You'll need this prescription as well," he said with a wink. "Take it PRN (as needed) and all will be well." He handed me the second slip and my eyes scanned what he had written.
"Psalm 23 and 91 1X day. Psa. 51 and John 14:13 PRN."
"Thank you," I said with true thankfulness of heart. He embraced me with affirming love that it took my breath away.
"Remember my words. I'm never far away. I will help you in everything. I will strengthen you when the day is long. I will cause you to run and walk and be and do with confidence as never before. Just whisper My Name. I'm there."
As I climbed into my car to go home I realize the Healer for all of His incomparable credentials and skill had applied to my spirit, soul and body a completeness of health, a wholeness unparalleled, a redemption of spirit that no one or nothing else could touch. He, Himself. By Himself. Alone. My mind had been renewed, my spirit reborn, my soul divested of the bruisings of life. Suddenly I realized that the words he spoke so long ago to others is just as true today, riveting and replete with fresh-born power as the day He gave it. He says it now. Listen. Listen to the wind words of the Spirit. They're blowing. Do you hear it? Do you sense it? It's not at the end of the road, the end of power or days stripped of validity. These days are the days of fulfillment.
"DO NOT let your hearts be troubled (distressed, agitated). You believe in and adhere to and trust in and rely on God; believe in and adhere to and trust in and rely also on Me.
I'll find you in the mornin' sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you
If you know God, I encourage you to go deeper, go higher, go wider in your intimacy with Him.
If you've never known him and want to, it's really very, very simple. Just open up your heart and talk to Him. Tell Him what you want. Sit down in His office and let Him hold your hand, wipe away your tears, and make you brand new. He'll do just that. No one need check your baggage or have you jump through hoops of rules and regulations. He'll save you. No questions asked.
And if you're resistant and think, oh, what a bunch of hooey baloney, all I'm saying is this: Just think about it. Think about it without all the lashings of current popular thought that Christianity is a crutch, a doctrine of sissies, and an unforgiving, intolerant group full of pride. You know what? Some of them may be that. I say that with sorrow. And if some so-called Christian has really hurt you, let me be the first to say, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the wounding. But truly, who they are isn't what God is. Bottom line: God is love. Full of mercy (who doesn't need that?), compassionate (we all need that from time to time), and brings peace (where in the world IS that??). There are those who stick their heads in the sand and think the world doesn't need peace, grabbing instead for chaotic reformation laced with unspeakable violence and death.
I'm just saying ... think about it. All by yourself. Alone. With eyes and heart wide open. What and Who you see just might surprise you.
Sent: Today
From: Me
To: adonai@celestialheavensabove.com
cc: Jesus; Holy Spirit
Subject: Sending you love
Message: Hi, Father. It's me. One of your favorite daughters. Man, I just finished reading your latest love letter ... again. Want to know what's really amazing? When I reread it, it's like the first time. Alive, fresh, new. No foolin'. Wild, huh. It's reciprocal, you know. My love for you. The love you send, though, is far beyond what I can comprehend, let alone give in return. It's the week of the 4th of July (as if you didn't know) and a lot of Americans are celebrating "Independence Day." A lot of the meaning has been stripped by pleasure seeking, callous minds, carcasses of thought unwilling to believe in truth, freedom, and righteousness. To my way of thinking I believe there are those that haven't been desensitized and are standing up and making it count. That's courage, don't you think?
Yesterday, I was thinking, wow, I can sit here in freedom and peace on my back deck without anybody buggin' me. That without a doubt was borne of blood. A page of history written by a pen of love. Self-sacrifice at its ultimate. (No one has greater love, no one has shown stronger affection, than to lay down, give up his own life. Love Letter John 15:13) Infinitely higher than a scale of one to 100, you did the same thing, sending Jesus to do what he did. Doing His bit for your love for us all. Still can't get over it. Here I sit, free from all the scum of the evil that wants to shred and destroy people into oblivion, because You sent him ... and here's the kicker: He was happy to do it. He thought it was a joyous occasion. Man, exclamation point and period. That kind of love is fiery and all-consuming. I am cocooned in the warmth of it. I express my thanks, Adonai. Sounds trite and incomplete, I know, but I'll say it anyway. I hope it warms Your heart as well.
Your gift of extraordinary measureless love sits in a neat package on people's doorsteps. If only they knew and understood what you've given. Some look at it, read the label and even tell others, "Hey, I have the package" but I know that unless Your gift is opened and received with pleasure and joy, it remains a gift sealed gathering dust. I'm sure glad I opened my gift of Yourself and didn't "return to sender." I have never regretted one single day.
Your attention to everything I do overwhelms me. You remember yesterday? That moment you spoke secrets in my heart? Man, I treasure them. They're truly sustenance to my soul until the day you come to pick me up and take me home for good. Remember when we shared the laughter? You are so funny sometimes. I'm so glad you have a sense of humor and aren't stuffy. So many people think you're mad at them. Really, isn't that it something? Unbelievable. I cannot for the life of me see why. The only Father I have known -- you, oh, precious Adonai -- are loving beyond words and so watchful. I know I don't have to worry about a thing.
I laid out the wedding garments you sent the other day. Looking at the exquisite fabric encrusted with diamonds and pearls sewn with ribbons of light, I know I'll be ready come "going home" time and the prettiest bride the world has ever seen. Thank you soooo much for sending all you did to make sure I'm ready for the wedding supper and giving me tips on palace royals etiquette. That is invaluable. I know I'll be the prettiest one of the bunch (though I know you feel the same way about all your "favorite" children; that's a joke, Father. I know I'm not the only kid on the block.) Also glad I don't have to send you the latest picture of myself so you'll know what I look like or worse yet like they do at the airport with a sign upheld, a silent page of "Jane Doe." That's not you. Nosireebob. You know me intimately and that makes all the difference. Not like some of these song-and-dance gods that are two-timin' no-see/no-hear absent nobodies. You are real! (I'm twirling in love.)
Then when I come home and go to the big party -- I can't wait until you take me out on the dance floor and we have our father/daughter dance! I want You to know I'm practicing so I don't step on your toes. You're the King; I'm not and I'll follow your lead in humble submission across every inch of that promenade. Promise I won't be embarrassing. Pinky promise. Until then I remain your forever daughter in love with you,
Come soon!!
Me
XXOO!