The Rhythm of Transformation: the Art of Waiting

"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful."

Hebrews 10:23

 It stood up to infant artwork, toddler hand prints, foot scrapes, furniture nicks and vacuum mishaps. Ready and armed with a scraper in one hand and half and half (not the cream but the potent vinegar and water mixture that promises to melt the toughest glue) in the other hand I felt invincible and the rhythm of stripping wallpaper began.

Spritz, spritz, scrape, peel. Spritz, spritz, scrape, peel.

It wasn't quite the waltz I imagined.

Tell Your Story

Tell Your Stories Here by Tantek Celik
Flickr.com_/photos/tantek/5335291744_CC BY-ND 4.0

Return home and tell how much God has done for you. Luke 8:39 NIV

If you're visiting from the Christian Children's Authors blog, welcome!

Summer camp stories told 'round the evening fire were the best, especially Friday nights. After week-long encounters with Jesus--being stretched and challenged both physically, emotionally and spiritually--we shared our God stories around the campfire. By the end of the night, story after story, God's presence was palpable. 

We wanted to stay there in that moment, forever, basking in God's glory and our unified faith. But, Saturday came and it was time to return home to the routine of our lives. 

Jesus met a tormented, demon-possessed man, chained and banished inside lakeside caves. He ordered the Legions to leave this man and they obeyed. Immediately, this man felt relief and his sanity returned. Thankful for the return of normalcy in his life for the first time in years, he wanted to spend all his time with Jesus. But, instead of inviting him to go with him, Jesus ordered the man to return home and share all that God had done for him.

When we experience God's healing or a divine breakthrough in our lives, isn't it tempting to stay in that moment--at the foot of the cross--and bask in God's presence? Don't you just want to pitch your tent and live in that moment forever? 

But what good is God's glory in our lives if we keep it hidden in our secret places? How will others know that God's healing and redemptive mercy and grace are for them as well? 

Like that healed man of Legions, Jesus says, "Return home and tell how much God as done for you." Tell. Your. Story. It's risky business, yes, but tell it anyway. Be God's kingdom conduit of grace, mercy, and healing. 

Tell...Your...Story! We're waiting to hear it. 

Click here for my story...May God use it mightily.

Prayer: 

Oh, Jesus, thank you for risking everything to bring God's healing into our lives. Thank you for offering us your mercy and grace to forgive and the courage to share our stories with those around us. May we be obedient to do as you ask. Amen.

Drenched with Heaven's Dew

If you're visiting from Encouragement Cafe, welcome! Make yourself at home.

“…and he was drenched with the dew of heaven, until he learned that the Most High God rules over the kingdoms of the world…” Daniel 5:21

Indian summer held on tight wrapping it’s humidity around us like a wet blanket as we sauntered to class through the tree-tunneled path around the pond. I felt my bobbed curls—the ones that took me twenty minutes to unfurl—coil up like Shirley Temple’s locks (but not so cute), making me wonder why I hadn’t submitted to their natural tendencies.

Then, rain came—slowly, at first—one gentle drop after another.  It was almost melodic watching the rain drops create rings across the pond. Then the melody turned dark and the heavens opened just as we emerged from the tree tunnel.

She laughed and slowed.

I cry-screamed and darted.

Then, looking back at her through fogged-up glasses I yelled, “Are you crazy? We’re gonna get soaked!”

“I LOVE getting drenched by the rain,” she giggled back at me. “It makes my hair so soft.”

I tried enjoying it, partly because I thought maybe I was missing something, but mostly because I didn’t want to be rude and leave her behind.

I hated it. Soggy made me feel undone and ugly.

Sometimes that’s just the posture God wants from us—undone and ugly—because that’s where we’re most vulnerable and teachable.  It’s those times when we’re most undone that our God ears hear and our God eyes see.

(Join me in all the undone and ugly at Encouragement Cafe for the rest of the story. There is hope, my friend...)

Where We Belong

Home of Beatrix Potter

Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:4

"There's something delicious about writing those first few words of a story. You can never quite tell where they'll take you. Mine took me here...where I belong." Beatrix Potter, the greatest children's author of the 20th century, called Hill Top Farm in rural England, home. She found inspiration and freedom to write about the many adventures (and misadventures) of her animal friends surrounded by beautiful, lush, rolling hills. It's where she belonged and where her passion as an artist flourished.

We all long to find where we belong, don't we? As small children we belong to a family. We live together, find our identity through family and take our rightful place in the birth order. As we mature, although sharing the same roots, we differ greatly. Our eldest brother likes sports and our middle sister loves fashion while we adore books. We're shy. They're social. We crave solitude. They adore crowds. We're most obviously different. And so goes our journey of belonging.

In part, the journey points to the question "What do you want to be when you grow up?" 

(Pssst..skip over to the Christian Children's Authors blog for the rest of the story)

Jesus' Healing Hands

 

Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and healing every disease and sickness among the people. Matthew 4:23 NIV

Hospice interrupted our drawings. Five and three-year-old fingers gripped Crayola's while Dad was slipping away. He only had hours and I needed to go. But what do I tell my grandchildren? How do you explain you're saying good-bye to your dad without frightening them?

They'd already experienced the loss of their grandmother less than a year ago, so they were familiar with good-byes. I wish I could spare them, but these kids are inquisitive and intuitive. While I fumbled for my shoes and waited for their dad to arrive, they asked the question.

"Where are you going Grams?"

(Sharing my heart on Christian Children's Authors blog. Click here to see how God orchestrated this conversation).

Freedom In Three Little Words

 

I forgive you.

Three little words hardly spoken, hold great power. They tear down walls, mend broken relationships, and free the heart. Yet we trade freedom for pride, swallowed hard behind tight lips, clenched fists, and bleeding hearts.  We hang onto blame with pain rather than releasing forgiveness.

We suffer long and hard in quiet desperation or spewing anger wondering when the pain will dull just a little--when will we 'get over it' once and for all? No matter how hard we try, the pain continues, rears its ugly head at all the wrong moments and we hit the wall.

(If forgiveness comes hard, take my hand and join me for some {re}fresh-ment)

When Darkness Shrouds Bring the Light

 

"I am Light that has come into the world so that all who believe in me won’t have to stay any longer in the dark." John 1:46 The Message

Text messages poured in interrupting my holiday errands. Overloading the grocery belt with baking supplies and Christmas feast items, I glanced at the first note. It read, "Are you and the grand babies okay?"

An odd question from a friend, I thought, so I answered, "Yes, why?" Her reply stopped me cold.

"School shooting in Newtown. Kindergartners dead."

Before I could respond, my phone interrupted the cashier's question, "Any coupons?" Another friend texted, "Have you seen the news? I can't believe it! We were just there. Met all these families."

It felt surreal standing amongst Christmas shoppers, joyful greetings, blipping cash registers and questions like, "Any coupons?" knowing only an hour west, Evil ran rampant and darkness shrouded this community my friends and I spent time with in September.

After days of weeping, holding my own children and grandchildren physically close, God reminds me of words He spoke to me just a four days prior to this tragedy.

Darkness always tries to push back the Light, but it cannot distinguish it. Light is always stronger, always brighter, always reveals the Truth. Darkness hides, runs, disappears in the Light. Keep shining My Light.

 

And God gives me this idea: Words Heal.

 

Writers know this truth, don't we? God heals us through words whether we write them ourselves, read His Word, or read others' words. Words bring healing  as we rummage through pain and allow God's Holy Spirit to minister through recording it all. Somehow seeing is believing and seeing our thoughts through the written word becomes very therapeutic.

 

So, I take this thought and share it with an author-friend and God directs our conversation this way: "What if local, CT authors rally and freely offer their time and writing talents in conjunction with the school guidance department and grief counselors and facilitate writers' workshops, teaching the children (all ages) to journal through their grief?"

 

Light pierces the Darkness during this conversation. We can see it - how we can bring Light back into this town shrouded in Darkness; how we can push back the Darkness and reveal Truth.

 

The idea grows: seven local children's and young adult authors and I are in preliminary conversations with the Newtown guidance department to move forward once they settle back into school.

 

Will you help us push back the Darkness and bring God's healing and Light to Newtown?

 

While we wait for the details to iron out, we are collecting journals and asking all who donate to inscribe words of encouragement and healing on the inside cover to the child/student recipient. They don't have to be expensive or fancy. If God moves you to participate, please mail the journals to:

 

Words Heal

c/o Knee High Academy

43 Hall Avenue, 3rd floor

Wallingford, CT 06492

 

To keep up with our progress with the Newtown school guidance department as God moves us forward, please join us on Facebook at Words Heal.

 

May God be glorified as we watch His Light push back the darkness and witness His healing through words.

 

Shining His Light,

 

Dawn

 

 

Do You Want to Get Well?

"Heal me, O Lord, and I will be healed; save me and

I will be saved, for you are the one I praise." Jeremiah 17:14

Beyond the putrid orange-flavored cough syrup mixed with the stinging aroma of Vick's Vapo Rub®, winter sickness brought comfort. It carried privileges unlike normal days. Mom unfolded the hide-away couch and unfurled a freshly line-dried cotton sheet over the top, transforming our living room into our private hospital room. There we stayed, cocooned between fresh linen and her hand-sewed quilts, soaking up all the TLC she offered.

When health returned after a few short days, my heart questioned, "Do I want to get well?" The special attention, the comforts illness brought were hard to leave behind. Health threatened all this, even placed an unwanted responsibility of normal living back on our shoulders. It meant giving up our comfortable homemade cocoon.

Isn't it the same when we're soul-sick? We get so used to all the attention our tears or complaints afford that when we're led to pray, "Jesus take the pain away," we actually fortify our hearts against the Spirit's healing powers with disbelief and lame excuses. Or, maybe the pain creates a desperation and we cry out for relief, make God promises that when we're faced with them the next morning, our soul forgets, maybe regrets and soul-sickness never heals.

Jesus faced the cripple at Bethesda's healing pool; looked him straight through and asked the piercing question, "Do you want to get well?" (John 5:6 NIV) and the cripple made excuses. But Jesus accepted none and commanded him to pick up his mat and walk. His physical body healed and Jesus met up with him at the temple a few days later. This time He confronted his soul-sickness. "See, you are well again. Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you."

It's hard to give up the comforts that sickness offers. Turning away from comfort goes against our nature, but God promises, if we turn towards Him, He has plans for us. Good and eternal plans, like He promised the Israelites long ago.

" 'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to proper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,' declares the Lord, 'and will bring you back to the place which I carried you into exile' " (Jeremiah 29:11-14 NIV).

Where are you today? Are you ready to shed your comfortable cocoon and step into God's promises for life outside it's shelter?

Father God,

We all enjoy the comforts of home, especially when we're sick. We love the attention our loving friends and family offer in those times, but we know we're not meant to stay there. Give us the desire and courage to ask for your Holy Spirit's healing powers within us, both physically and spiritually. When you ask us to get up, may we obey you without excuses and walk away from our soul-sickness into Your hope. Amen.

Baggage: Packing for those Just-In-Case Moments

"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." Galatians 5: 1

It amazes me how little my husband needs to pack for a trip. Whether it’s a week or just a weekend, he fits everything into a carry-on. I, however, need the largest suitcase, an overnight bag AND a large tote bag!

You see, I pack for the “just in case” moments. Maybe you can relate? I pack that pretty dress “just in case” we visit a fancy restaurant, (which also requires packing an extra pair of shoes, a clutch, matching jewelry and perfume). I pack a long pair of pants for a summer trip down south “just in case” the weather turns cold, (Has it ever known a July day less than 85 degrees?). So, you can imagine how heavy my baggage is on our return trip.

(Pssst...I'm enjoying a cup of coffee with the folks at Encouragement Cafe. Grab a hot cup 'o joe, click on the highlighted link and join us for the rest of the story).

A Jesus Whisper and a Healing



Pops and Dakota



“O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, thank you for hiding these things from those who think themselves wise and clever, and for revealing them to the childlike."

Luke 10:21

We spend a lot of time with our four-year-old granddaughter, Dakota and last Thursday she joined us for the Maundy Thursday service at church. (That was our deal...if she wanted to sleep over at Grams' & Pops' house that night, she had to go to church with us).

 

She agreed, wholeheartedly, but I wondered if she'd really last through the entire service or glean anything from the service between playing with her Littlest Pet Shop toys and the noticeably painful sty on her eyelid. 

The band started playing and she hopped into my arms, ready to worship. Half-way through the first song she points to the inlaid cross above the baptistery and says, "Jesus died on that cross, you know, Grams."

"Yes, he did. That's why we're here tonight--to remember that and to say 'thank-you' to Jesus for dying on that cross."

The next morning the swelling and redness from her sty had dissipated. I mentioned how much better her eye looked and she immediately responded, "Yes, it is better. Last night in church I heard someone whisper, 'Look at your sty. I've made it better.'"

I asked, "Who do you think whispered in your ear?" and as any preschool girl with an overactive imagination may respond, she answered, "I don't know. I think it was Hello Kitty." Hmmm. Now what? Obviously, she wasn't making this up. Her eye was markably better, so I seized this teachable moment and continued the conversation.

"No, Dakota. Hello Kitty isn't real or alive. She's just a cartoon character, but remember you mentioned Jesus died on the cross? Well, he is real and he didn't stay dead. On Easter, God raised him from the dead, made him alive again. He's alive, with God, in heaven and he talks with us, just like he whispered in your ear last night. That voice? That whisper in your ear? That was Jesus. Jesus made your eye better."

Throughout the day, I watched her eye for any reoccurring redness or swelling and periodically asked her if it still hurt but her eye kept improving. When her parents arrived late in the afternoon, the first thing her mother said was, "Wow! Your eye is all better."

She looked up from her artwork and answered, "Yes, Jesus made it better."

Although she didn't recognize Jesus' voice at first, does not negate the fact that she heard him whisper, "I've made it better." Just like us, childlike in our walk with the Lord, we train our ears to hear his voice through simple faith.