Jehovah was not in the wind. And after the wind, an earthquake: Jehovah was not in the earthquake.
And after the earthquake, a fire: Jehovah was not in the fire. And after the fire, a soft gentle voice. (1Kings 19:11-12)
Showing posts with label Stillness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stillness. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

The Importance of Building a Bench ~ Simply Tuesday

"When I want to climb the ladder, what if instead I tore the ladder apart and used the wood to build a bench." (Emily P Freeman, Simply Tuesday: Small-Moment Living in a Fast-Moving World)
I've had a lot of practice of small and lonely this past year. A lot of slowing down. I've had a lot of days that feel like Tuesdays. That day that you have to just keep on going, moving forward, when you are not even halfway through the week and you could race on toward the end of the week or actually slow down and appreciate or at least take notice of the small moments that are making up your life.

Cause you are actually alive, waking up each morning and breathing. Do you jump out of bed and head out into the hustle without even realizing you are still here? Living, breathing, moving?

Do you ever consider that every breath you get to take make up your moments? And the harsh reality is that those small moments may be small, but they may also be hard. They may be ordinary, but they may be frustrating and threaten to paralyze you with fear.

I've laboured to breath, and I've struggled to appreciate the small, hard moments.



We are to pour out our lives, and "by the mercies of God, to present [our] bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is [our] spiritual worship." It's the surrender of our lives to our Lord, our adoration of Him with all of our heart, strength, mind, and soul that is our worship.

Some say the story I've been living is an amazing story. And really, because of God's grace, it is. But, I have to admit, when I get lost in the loneliness, and caught in the strongholds of this fast-moving world, well, to me, it's just my life. And I want to scream, "Hello, this is my life we're talking about." My small, ordinary non-flashy moments that are being strung together to make my life. Not some fictional character in a great story to keep you turning the pages to see what will happen to her in the end."  I confess, there are times, when I've thought an entirely different plot line would suit me much better.


"…people don't need fancy and flashy, they probably just want regular. They don't need a fixer, they need a journeyer. They just need to sit on a bench with someone else so they know they are not alone." (Emily P Freeman, Simply Tuesday: Small-Moment Living in a Fast-Moving World)
I've been learning to accept what God has called me to, for His glory.

I've been learning that there are worse things than dying—not really living or staying alive with no real impact and failing to live the abundant life Christ offers.

I'm a slow-learner when it comes to things pertaining to the soul—the things unseen. How often my pride and self-love get in the way and make me stumble. But God, in His mercy and grace, He reveals my sin and humbles me, brings me down and causes me to surrender to His holy love. He helps me to tear down the ladders and build benches so there is more compassion and less comparison even when I am tempted to build high, impenetrable walls.

One of the ways He has been teaching me is by allowing others to journey with me.

As an introvert, and a back-yard dweller—where there is privacy and protection, I've been learning how much I need to come to the front yard—where there is vulnerability and openness, and embrace community. To build a bench, to share our stories, our struggles, our simple moments that make up our lives.



And what I'm finding is a love for others like I have never had before.

When we take these small moments, share our simple and sit down on the inside and make room for our souls to breath our eyes are opened and we see the bigger picture.

May we never focus on the small. Our eyes need to be fixed on Jesus—the Author and Finisher of our faith. "In Him, we live and move and have our being." The One who came to dwell among us, took on flesh, humility, and became sin that we might become the righteousness of Christ that we might forever dwell with Him.
"When confronted with heartbreak, fear, questions, longing, frustrations, and grief, this new life means instead of running to build our cities of protection, we can set out on a different road. This road may include loneliness, obscurity, hiddenness, and silence. It may be narrow, lined with danger, and filled with darkness at times. But we have a light that will not go out and cannot be turned off. The light of Christ burns bright within us, and wherever we go we will not go alone." (Emily P Freeman, Simply Tuesday: Small-Moment Living in a Fast-Moving World)


{Emily P. Freeman's newest book, Simply Tuesday: Small-Moment Living in a Fast-Moving World releases today in the U.S. She has given me much to think about in the words she shares. I was taken with this idea early in the morning on the first Tuesday on this year while my life was like a string of Tuesdays and Emily introduced #itssimplytuesday on Instagram. It's a rather lovely place to sit and share snippets of our lives.}

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

But There is Hope {Words of Life Wednesdays ~ A Link-up}

{Join us below for Words of Life Wednesdays with a link-up of your post.
We'd love to hear how God's Word has been nourishing you.}


"And this word is the good news that was preached to you."

I sit down beside pigeons with my lunch in hand. The blue skies reach far above the big skyscrapers. The hustle and bustle of city life races on in all directions. People walk fast, taxi drivers honk, workers with hard hats on light up for a brief smoke break, hot dog vendors turn their street meat while the aroma wafts up enticing the hungry to grab a quick bite.

Life goes on and on and on. 

Or so it seems.

I sit in hospital district and dine alone in the midst of a sea of people with my 100% all beef hot dog, cause the small lunch I packed did not satisfy my hunger. My nose directs my hands to dig around for some spare change to try one of those "gourmet " hot dog with sautéed onions smeared on top while ignoring the better judgment coming from my head.

The last bite did not quite taste as good as the first. I should have listened to better judgment. I toss my wrapper in the trash just before I walk into my only little quarter of the revolving doors leading into the hospital.

Life spins on and on and on. 

Life is like the revolving doors; spinning from one season to the next to eventually the promised end.


I have walked many a halls in hospitals. The frailty of life is met face on when you make your way through the mazes of passageways and corridors, up and down elevators and sit in waiting rooms.

Sickness, disease, pain, and suffering touch each one of us. Not one of us will escape their grip. 

It is easy to despair.

This road is not an easy one.

But there is hope.

Always hope.


Human flesh is weak, frail, and failing.

The power of the word of the Lord supplies new life.

The word is the good news.

The glorious grace of the gospel dispenses living hope.

In all its beauty the spring flower will bloom and fade and fall.

In all its grandeur the fresh green grass will wither and die.

This life is only a mist. Here today. Gone tomorrow.

But there is hope.


The abiding and living word brings forth imperishable life.

Life eternal.


"set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ."
{ 1 Peter 1:13}

***

A Soft Gentle Voice


{Also linking with Coffee For Your Heart}










Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Pathway of Sorrow Leads to Stronger Faith {Words of Life Wednesdays ~ A Link-up}

{Join us below for Words of Life Wednesdays with a link-up of your post.
We'd love to hear how God's Word has been nourishing you.}


"In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honour at the revelation of Jesus Christ." {1 Peter 1:6-7} 



The old empty flower pot sits in the corner. Mostly forgotten. From where it came, I am not sure. It has a story of it's own, with the lines etched in and the bark worn away, but I only know a small part of it's past. Some creative person saw beauty in all the broken pieces and fashioned together something useful. Crafted beauty from all the ugly parts.

***

I know what it is to sit empty and feel forgotten. I know the pain of broken pieces and ugly parts.

You, too?

***

Suffering.

Grief.

Various trials.

Trouble.

Laid aside.

In sorrow

or pain

or sickness

or grief.

It may seem like there is no end.

You may feel you have been made for more than this.

Rest.

We are all but a vapour.

These difficulties will last a little while.

Rejoice.

Give thanks that this heaviness might be used to grow your faith into something far more precious than gold.

See that the pathway of sorrow leads to a stronger faith.

Results are of eternal value.

Allow this suffering to purify and burn away the dross and see what beauty remains.

May your genuine faith be found to result in praise, glory and honour to the One who suffered beyond any suffering we could even imagine.



“The way to stronger faith usually lies along the rough pathway of sorrow . . . I am afraid that all the grace that I have got out of my comfortable and easy times and happy hours, might almost lie on a penny. But the good that I have received from my sorrows, and pains, and griefs, is altogether incalculable . . . Affliction is the best bit of furniture in my house. It is the best book in a minister’s library. ” {Charles Spurgeon}




I know He will take the painful parts and purify them into beautiful praise.


***

May our suffering grow a stronger faith.

May our pain be found to bring praise.

May our hard times result in honour for all eternity

to the Lamb who was slain

as His scars remain.


***



{Email subscribers can click here to listen to "Pieces" by Meredith Andrews}
***
A Soft Gentle Voice

{Also linking with Coffee For Your Heart}


Friday, March 28, 2014

Pass Around the Grace, Please




We’re sitting around the table with heaping servings of homemade mac and cheese and a garden salad spilling over the porcelain white serving bowl. I just “banned” ketchup as the side dish because it contains one teaspoon of sugar for every tablespoon they squeeze out. It doesn’t go over very well and grumbles become the dominant table talk.

It’s been said that we have never consumed so much sugar and we’re addicted.

Tears start flowing from the youngest. The oldest says she wishes I’d quit reading about health stuff and all the labels. The son says he wants his ketchup. The husband raises his one eyebrow at me from across the table like a question mark at the health kick I might be on and swallows it all quietly just to keep the peace.

I suggest what about a thank you for supper, Mama and the point is duly taken.

A hush falls.



We’re sitting around the world wide web with heaping servings of homespun words and a whole buffet of blogs and social media. We stuff ourselves on opinions, other’s online lives, and open letters. Grumbles become the dominant table talk.

It’s been said that we have never consumed so much technology and we’re addicted.



I'm honoured to be guest hosting The Weekend Brew at My Freshly Brewed Life today. I'd love to see you over there. Be sure to link-up your post, check out some other links over the weekend, and leave a comment.


Monday, February 24, 2014

Take a Break From Your Plans and Know His Presence



There's that saying that you can't see the forest for the trees. Well, I could barely see the trees.

So, I took a break. Kinda like when someone tells you to 'take a hike'.

It was a much needed break. I thought it would last a week. However, when the week had wrapped itself up, I found myself lost. I wasn't exactly sure how to find my voice back in this place.

I wanted to lose it altogether and, I think, maybe I did.

I got lost in a forest and couldn't find my own way out. I fainted and couldn't pick my own self up. I couldn't see clearly and I wanted the eyes of my heart to be enlightened that I could cling to living hope. To see the trees before me and know there is a greater plan. To remember hope remains even when I don't know the way winding through the woods.

I had to quiet everything down and focus on what was right in front of me. I had to stop to look deep into the ones that I could reach out and touch to know that I was really alive. I had to fall down to be able to walk on in faith.

What I thought would be a break, ended up breaking me.

I had to lose myself all over again to know that I really had been found.

I shut myself off from the noisy clamour all around me to pay attention to the soft gentle Voice of Truth and wait for Him to whisper.

What came loud and clear in the deafening silence was the truth that good things can take the place of God. Oh, the ugly reality that once that happens is they are no longer good things, but gods.

When you wake up to that you are forced to weigh in on some soul-searching questions.

Am I worshiping good things rather than God who has made all things?

Am I filling the longing for God's eternal presence with good and beautiful things that are meant to only point to God, not be gods?

Am I concerned more about my power, my plan, my purpose?

I thought I was discouraged from pouring out my life, but am I just desperate to be free from self-centred living?

I thought I would hush the distractions, but I was silenced and I saw idols.

I didn't just lose my voice, I lost my life all over again.

When I stopped to be quiet and I stilled to know God, my hands reached out to touch His mercy and my heart was assured of His presence.

Like the bleeding woman who touched the hem of His garment, she had to lay down low, reach out in simple faith and wait to filled to be able to stand up in His strength. His power went out into her. She was empowered to do the next thing.

One step at a time.

In my brokenness He gently embraced.

In my weakness He gave His power.

In my fainting He promised His presence.

In my lostness He found me and leads me home.

He never lets go and when I was trying walk by sight and lost my foothold, He was gently leading me on to higher places.

With Him.

Gathered in His arms, carried close to his heart.





"Take a break from all the plans that you have made.
And sit at home alone and wait for God to whisper.

Beg Him please to open up His mouth and speak.

And pray for real upon your knees until they blister . . . "




"Anything I put before my God is an idol.
Anything I want with all my heart is an idol. 
And anything I can't stop thinking of is an idol. 
And anything that I give all my love is an idol."
{lyrics from the song "Clear the Stage"}

A Soft Gentle Voice

Monday, January 27, 2014

When You Are Weary You Need a Wilderness



The world is noisy.

Our lives are busy.

The distractions in our days are many.

There is much work to be done.

There are many places to go.

There are multitudes of people to love.

We are weary and worn.

We wonder how we will meet all the demands on our lives and precious time.

We find ourselves pulled in many directions.

We are simply unable to please so many people.

The solution is simple, but not easy.

After busy days, the best thing we could do is follow the example of Jesus.

Find a secluded place and spend time in prayer.

It requires sacrifice, surrender, and abandoning our own self-desires.

We need to go against the flow to slow down and slip away.

We need to quit trying to please everyone to withdraw to a quiet place to pray.

We need to remember it is not all about our plans in life, but God's purpose for our lives.




"But Jesus Himself would often slip away 
to the wilderness and pray."
{Luke 5:16}




A Soft Gentle Voice

Monday, January 6, 2014

Two Ways To Improve Your Heart Murmur {Introducing: Meditation of My Heart Mondays}

A Soft Gentle voice

"Let the words of my mouth and the 
meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, 
O LORD, my rock and my redeemer."
{Psalm 19:14}

They say I have a wicked heart murmur.

When the doctor puts the stethoscope to his ear he hears an extra whooshing sound between the heartbeats. I can't hear these extra heart sounds that are a result of turbulent blood flow, but the ongoing murmur is detected every time I am examined.

Although heart murmurs are not always a major problem, it's obviously not the way the heart is meant to sound. Unfortunately, in my case, there is a concern and my cardiologist has taken a watch and wait approach to see how to best handle my heart.

It's not only my physical heart, but my spiritual heart is defective and wicked.

I've been given a new heart, but the murmurings that are too often heard are a result of the turbulence deep within.

I'm ashamed about the way I whip my tongue out and slash with my words and how it hurts those nearest to me. The struggle within is heard without a stethoscope and at times those closest to me take a watch and wait approach to determine how to best handle this raging fire.

"I love God’s law with all my heart.
But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind.
This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me."
{Romans 7:22,23}

A soft Gentle Voice

It's only the first Monday on the threshold of the new year and you may be already wondering how you'll get through your day.

How many biting words before breakfast? How many mumblings before morning coffee?

Let's stop before we go any further, shall we?

We won't be taming any tongues on our own.

We need assistance.

"Oh, what a miserable person I am!
Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death?

Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!"
{Romans 7:24,25}


The answer is The Word that became flesh.

We are utterly dependent on the work of God in our inner being to transform us into His likeness.

By the grace of God, and the work Christ has accomplished, we are washed.

May our prayer this day, yes, even every day this year be like the Psalmist.

That our words and our mediations would be an acceptable and sweet offering.

That the sound of our hearts would beat in time to the steady beat of God's heart.
"The pious meditations of the heart must not be smothered, but expressed in the words of our mouth, for God's glory and the edification of others; and the words of our mouth in prayer and praise must not be formal, but arising from the meditation of the heart." {Matthew Henry}
The Word of God is living and active. It's not mere words meant only to be read. It's meant to reveal to us what is in our hearts.

So this is how we should handle the sharpest double-edged sword that has the power to pierce as far as the division of soul and spirit. As the murmurs of our hearts beat in rhythm to God's and our hearts are purified the words of our mouths will drip pleasant like honey. 

Treasure God's Word
Make your heart a storehouse for the riches of the Words of God that they might get into your soul that you might never forget them.
We need not only read His Holy Words, but we must memorize them.
We need His message to be clear in our minds and our hearts.

Meditate on God's Word
Literally murmur it, turn these precious words over in your thoughts.
It's not a clearing of the mind, but a cleansing with the words the very water washing over our thoughts.
Mutter the words over and over. Muse about God's Word to yourself.
Contemplate His Words and deeds.
Preach it to yourself.

And offer it up as an offering to your Redeemer.

A Soft Gentle Voice

What has been the meditation of your heart today? And how has it helped the words of your mouth be sweet?


{Stay tuned for we're hoping to add a link-up in the weeks to come, Lord willing, so you can link up your posts on the beautiful truths from God's Word on which you have been meditating.}


*linking with Inspire Me Monday

Saturday, December 21, 2013

Words of Wisdom for the Weekend ~ Anne of Avonlea Offers Advise in the Duck Dynasty Conversation ~ and Humble Thoughts to Guide our Conversations at our Christmas Gatherings









The night of the third annual neighbourhood hockey game, on the Friday before Christmas, and it's pouring down ice.

Hot chocolate is served with ice and it transforms into chocolate slushies in paper cups and the goodies laid out have a frosting that could knock your teeth out, but the hockey players play on, with not a care in the world that they are coated in freezing rain.

As predicted, in the morning, it's a beautiful winter wonderland.

I tromp through the ice-capped snow to attempt capture the sheer glory of it all and it's like shards of glass under my feet. I steady myself against slipping and breaking either camera or bones.

The ice is beautiful, but it can also be deadly.

Lately, I've been thinking of conversation.

Words can be beautiful but they can also be deadly.

Weeks before social media went crazy with Duck Dynasty hashtags, and anyone was silenced, I was reading Anne of Avonlea to my children.

I have to admit, I've never watched one second of the Robertson's episodes, but you can't be online for even a minute it seems without hearing the conversation, that sadly is even happening at all.

How we need to see things through a lens of beauty and speak in such a way.

In all the controversy, talk about freedom of speech and bigotry, or speaking truth in love and intolerance, and lack of honest dialogue, but too much hate, this Anne quote keeps coming back to mind:
“Anne was saying with true Anneish philosophy . . . 'We're to seek for beauty and refuse to see anything else.' . . . " 
"'If a kiss could be seen I think it would look like a violet,' said Priscilla. 
Anne glowed. 
'I'm so glad you spoke that thought, Priscilla, instead of just thinking it and keeping it to yourself. This world would be a much more interesting place . . . although it is very interesting anyhow . . . if people spoke out their real thoughts.' 
'It would be too hot to hold some folks,' quoted Jane sagely. 
'I suppose it might be, but that would be their own faults for thinking nasty things. Anyhow, we can tell all our thoughts today because we are going to have nothing but beautiful thoughts. Everybody can say just what comes into her head. That is conversation.'"
~ Lucy M Montgomery, 'Anne of Avonlea' 
We have the opportunity to speak honest words that build and strengthen or horrific words that bite and shatter.

We can either capture the beauty around us or carelessly lacerate like jagged bits of glass deep into dermis.

Pain receptors have been sovereignly created in us, right in the skin of us, to detect and automatically respond to what is harmful for the human body.

And right in the soul of us, God has given us grace to season the conversation that we may respond in a way that will benefit those who hear.

Families that have let words cut and left wounds deep, communities that have failed to offer safe places, friendships that have left off with cold shoulders and broken pieces will gather over the next couple of weeks to remember.  As we remember what Christ has done we re-member, as Mark Buchanan says in his book, 'The Rest of God'.

Christ has come. He's coming again. That is enough to make all conversation flow with grace.

What if while we feast together with brothers and sisters, we fast from ungracious stinging words and offer only speech seasoned with salt?

Social media will have a heyday with hashtags and heated opinions, but let us gather in real places and extend warm hugs and open our mouths with loving and beautifully gracious words that come from thinking about: "whatever is true, whatever is worthy of respect, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if something is excellent or praiseworthy".

That is conversation.


***
{Words for Wisdom for the Weekend: These are words that I have been challenged or encouraged by that I have read throughout my week that I kept pondering; words that I couldn't get off my mind and heart throughout my week. 
For other Words of Wisdom for the Weekend posts see here.}


Tuesday, December 3, 2013

When the Light Brings Life


I love to watch the morning light chase away the darkest shadows.

The sun always burns away the frost, takes the chill from the air, sets diamonds in the fresh snow, dispels the darkness.

There is always hope in the light.

The darkness causes chaos and panic, the light brings peace and calm.

Like the power outage on Black Friday.

Somewhere a transformer blew and we were left in utter darkness. Literally, for a brief moment, you could not see your hand in front of your face and the house was still and silent. Then panic rose and the children cried out. I told them to stay put and not to move anywhere until we got some light. My daughter grabbed her iPod and clicked it on and there was the tiniest wink of light and then we went in search of more flashlights and candles. There was a hyperactivity as the adrenaline kicked in, but once we had the house aglow there was a tranquil stillness and a soporific calmness despite the fear lurking in the shadows of the darkness. It led to a relaxing candle-lit bath and early retiring to bed. And just as we were blowing out the candles to bunker in for the night, the power was restored and the lights all blinked back on and the darkness vanished.

The light always makes the darkness vanish.
"At night Christ was born, a light in darkness; noonday turned to night when Christ suffered and died on the Cross. But in the dawn of Easter morning Christ rose in victory from the grave.
Ere yet the dawn hath filled the skies
Behold my Saviour Christ arise,
He chaseth from us sin and night,
And brings us joy and life and light.
Hallelujah.
~Dietrich BonHoeffer 'Life Together' 

In the morning light, with coffee in hand, I crack open to day 3 in The Greatest Gift and chew on the words from near the beginning of the story of how Adam and Eve hid. Their sin had exposed them and they were ashamed. God had told them that if they eat of the fruit of the tree in the midst of the garden, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, they would surely die.

And in their hiding we see how they did. Away from God's presence they were lurking in the shadows, dead in the darkness of sin.

The only way to come to the Unapproachable Light was to respond to God calling them.

They hid. God called.

We would never seek God unless He called out to us first.


The ones who had been created to walk in the garden with Him, now hid ashamed and had no way to undo what had been done, no way back to Him.

It is our tendency - to hide, to cower in shame and the only way we can come to the Light is to heed His call.

And the Fathers of lights whom no human eye has seen graciously calls us to Him that we might be admitted into His presence once again.

He called Adam and Eve out of the shadows, covered their shame, and protected them from living in this permanent state away from God's presence with the glimmer of hope of the Light to come.


We have walked in darkness, but the Light came, and with Light, there is hope.







Linking with Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky as this was what I unwrapped this Tuesday. What did you unwrap today? Would love to hear about your Tuesday Unwrapped.

Saturday, November 30, 2013

The Most Important Thing I Learned While Hunting in November 2013

"November is usually such a disagreeable month . . . as if the year had suddenly found out that she was growing old and could do nothing but weep and fret over it. This year is growing old gracefully . . . just like a stately old lady who know she can be charming even with grey hair and wrinkles. We've had lovely days and delicious twilights." 
~L.M. Montgomery, 'Anne of Avonlea'





She was nearly silenced.

Left without words to offer.

Stormed in with only a whisper.

Barely breathing in grace.

As the sun and moon took their turns in the November sky she could only keep hunting in the storms.

Groping her way to shelter.

Searching for refuge.

Gracefully bending under burdens.



Day after day, weak ones begged for intercession.

Storm after storm, weary ones cried out for sanctuary.

Battle after battle, warriors appealed for peace.

She tuned in for a song to be somewhere in the suffering.

She watched for joy to come in the mourning.

She waited for worship to follow the weeping.





She shook her head at the things that could silence her.

How the exhausting days, an off-handed comment, relentless struggles, winds of life whipping her in the face, darkest nights, and the depravity of her own soul could leave her hushed, scared, unsure of setting one foot in front of the other.

Her default, to wrap herself in fear instead of walking in faith, threatened to deride her.

But she had set out to hunt and although it looked different then she anticipated, in hunting, she opened her hand to God's grace, steadfast love and never-ending mercies, she released her grip on fear and she found refuge in the present suffering by seeing it in light of God's eternal promises.



Yes, tears fall in the tiring days.

Yes, strength fails in the storms of life.

Yes, disease and death do sting.

But as prayers are on the lips of the saints, the God who bottles our tears also gathers our prayers in golden bowls.

As our weeping endures for the moment, we know the victory has been won, the Messiah has come in mortal flesh as a babe, conquered all sin and death as the God-man, so our prayers will be worship to the One who sits on the Throne.

As our suffering must be seen in light of God's eternal promises, so our prayers will be made sweet incense when the worthy Lamb, who suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God, opens the book and loosens the seals.

This is the thing with bottled tears and bowls of prayers:

God turns our wailing into dancing and our prayer into worship because, "behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered" and we will weep no more.







When the world screams no God she yearns for more God.

So she set out in an earnest search and called this month 'Morevember'.

And she found that this hunting was just what she needed.

To open her eyes to see,

to open her hands to grasp,

to open her heart to hear.





So even when she was dumb she was not without a hope.

When her tears fell, she believed there would be a turning to joy.

When prayers faltered on her lips, she presented only groanings and was confident the Spirit would plead on her behalf.

With bold supplication she surrendered, knew her own weakness and found refuge.



November grew old, and now passes on with a white gleaming crown.

And the one who was silenced, now she silences the nay-sayers with a charm of her own.

She gives thanks for the delicious twilights and the sunrise after the storm.

For the Son in the midst of the storm.

For the Rock who is her Refuge.

She finds her song in the suffering.

Her hope in the hurting.

Her joy in the world.

In Him. More of Him.

In His presence. His goodness. His love.

November wanted to fill her right to the deepest marrow with melancholy.

But in the hunting, her ears were ripened to His music. His mercy. His grace.

In the silence her heart heard His song.

"The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing."


Emmanuel has come.

In the morning we wait for fullness of joy.

God with us.


***



I invite you to never stop hunting along with me for more of His mercy and grace  and steadfast love to see more of Him in #Morevember on Facebook and Twitter.




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Linking with Emily. What have you learned this month? Please share.

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