Who Do You Love?

So much more than a building. God loves you.

The Renegade Bride

“What church do you go to?”  That is the most loaded question in the culture of religion and denominations.  Guess what!?  It’s time to start asking a different question.  It’s time you knew that “You are the church!” 

As you come to him, the living Stone—rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him— you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. (1 Peter 2:5)

The question you should be asking is, “Who do you love?” 

A popular author writes, “Very few have ever risen above worshipping the temple of the Lord, so that they can truly worship the Lord of the temple.”

It wasn’t always this way.  My husband and I were very involved in church with our own ministry and music and programs and… well, we were…

View original post 1,672 more words

She has the Plague AND We’re Crossing the “Jordan River?”

This will end up being a series of blogs because so much has happened since I last blogged.  So, I’m just going to start as though we are in a conversation…

Yes, I am the mother of the little girl, Sierra Jane, who had the plague in 2012.  Sean laughingly calls me “the plague mom.”  Please DON”T call me that though!  We were on T.V. and the Dr. Oz Show (click on the link to see the actual show) and she received world coverage.

On the set with Dr. Oz after recording the show.

On the set with Dr. Oz after recording the show.

We talked about everything from my two older daughters’ 911 call to the pink sweatshirt fallen on the ground that became the carriage for the little creatures who carried the deadly disease, the bubonic plague.

What you never heard; however, were the millions of miracles God orchestrated for our benefit… and yours!  I just want you to know how much He loves you.

He wants you to know that He has not forgotten you.  He has heard every prayer.  Every one.  Even the little ones that seem like a simple little thought.  Even the ones you haven’t uttered because you think you don’t deserve it or it won’t happen.  He has Hope for you right here, right now.  And since we survived the plague I feel that I am qualified to tell you why and how I know that!

There is much to tell and this story doesn’t begin with the plague; that’s where it ends.  Allow me to take you back to the summer of 20oo…

In the spring of 2012, the Holy Spirit had me return to an old abandoned township called Pagosa Junction.  The land is on the tip of the Ute reservation and as I understand it, there has been some fighting over the territory between the Utes and the town of Pagosa Springs.  The first time I ever went out there, however, was 12 years earlier in the summer of 2000.

The Catholic church over looking Pagosa Junction

The Catholic church overlooking Pagosa Junction

Back then, my husband and I had time to explore new territories.  We drove back into the wilderness and discovered an old train station, tracks, and old homes.  On that first trip I remember thinking that it looked like everyone had just up and left!  We found old clothing, jars, antique furniture and so many cool things.  Since we love collecting pictures of old doors, I started taking pictures of the doors.  One I will never forget was of a lone “locked” door standing like a rebel surrounded by its fallen house.  I can’t help but think of this scripture when I remember that door.

These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open. I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name.  I will make those who are of the synagogue of Satan, who claim to be Jews though they are not, but are liars—I will make them come and fall down at your feet and acknowledge that I have loved you.  Rev 3:7-9

The more  we explored, though, the more uneasy we became.  We felt an unspoken warning to touch nothing!  I could hear what sounded like voices on the breeze threatening and screaming at us to leave.  Sensing the evil presence, we decided  to leave.  A few weeks later when I got the pictures back, I was so uncomfortable that I had to throw every single one away.

If you need more evidence that that place was cursed, a friend of mine went out there five years later and brought back an old mason jar for a souvenir.  A few weeks later she and her kids started having terrible nightmares and even seeing manifestations of spirits in their home.  We prayed.  She repented, threw away the jar and as soon as the jar was in the trash the nightmares stopped.

So, when God asked me to return there in the spring of 2012, I was a little leery… and excited.  Along the way I discovered a little happy flock of sheep. Mixture 011One of them came over to the fence and actually looked like he wanted to encourage me.

When I got to Pagosa Junction this time, I didn’t sense anything like before. In fact, I wandered around the old church on the hill and hiked around the valley near the train tracks and experienced peace.  Then I began to pray.

Have you ever noticed that when it’s God praying through you it’s difficult to remember what you prayed?  All I know is, as I prayed, a theme of God returning the land prevailed.  I recall saying out loud, “Be returned to the land.”  There was a sense of restoring as I prayed and prophesied to the land.

Early spring at Pagosa Junction 2012.

Early spring at Pagosa Junction 2012.

For I will restore the fortunes of the land as they were before,’ says the Lord.  The Prophet Jeremiah 33:11

You, Lord, showed favor to your land; you restored the fortunes of Jacob.  Psalm 85:1

I returned home feeling peaceful and with much anticipation.

Then we lost our house.

I know!  It wasn’t the miracle I had been hoping for either!  I fought so hard to keep that little home of ours.  Like a lot of Americans, we bought our home at the peak of the market and shouldn’t have.  We ended up receiving a Deed in Leu which morphed into a Deed in Leese.  That means we were renting the house we once owned.  We were slipping farther and farther into debt, depression and discouragement.

As summer approached I continued to pray.  We looked at rentals and even considered moving out-of-town and closer to a city.   Then one day our friend, Steve, suggested we take a look at his old property. The property was on the other side of town on 1.5 acres.  For the last three years it had been used as a homeless shelter.  Since there was only one man left of the group (he moved into a single cabin), Steve thought a family might be able to restore the house.

No one knew the years I had wept, or the days I had fasted and prayed for God to answer us.  No one knew how creative I really was with so little; how I understood the woman with her jar of oil and bit of flour, how I longed for something new for my daughters and joy for my husband.  God knew…

“In the time of my favor I will answer you,
and in the day of salvation I will help you;
I will keep you and will make you
to be a covenant for the people,
to restore the land
and to reassign its desolate inheritances,
to say to the captives, ‘Come out,’
and to those in darkness, ‘Be free!’  The Prophet Isaiah 49:8-9

We inherited Steve’s house and began our summer with renovations.  Little did we know that we were about to embark on an adventure together that we would never forget.

To read part 2, My Buddy, Joshua, click HERE.

Graffiti HeART

A much better edit.

The Renegade Bride

Jane Art Jane Art Graffiti

Today I found graffiti penciled
on the bathroom wall
it says
I love you.

I wanted to scold you
make you clean the wall
but I think I’ll keep it there
watch it fade
as you grow taller

When I was in school
I never found such loving words etched
on metal bathroom stalls
or carefully carved on table tops

secretly I wished it was my name
carved beside some boy’s
a displaced longing for love

I wished to give my valentine heart,
and macaroni coated Christmas cards
to my mother
they never made it to the fridge for display
with sticky tape or food encrusted magnets
they merely
disappeared
scrubbed away from public viewing

When I became mom-age
I spray painted a heart over my heart
left room for your own scented marker designs
and chalk drawings

That’s when it happened
finger prints
sand shifted into…

View original post 67 more words

Graffiti HeART

Jane Art

Jane Art Graffiti

Today I found graffiti penciled
on the bathroom wall
it says
I love you.

I wanted to scold you
make you clean the wall
but I think I’ll keep it there
watch it fade
as you grow taller

When I was in school
I never found such loving words etched
on metal bathroom stalls
or carefully carved on table tops

secretly I wished it was my name
carved beside some boy’s
a displaced longing for love

I wished to give my valentine heart,
and macaroni coated Christmas cards
to my mother
they never made it to the fridge for display
with sticky tape or food encrusted magnets
they merely
disappeared
scrubbed away from public viewing

When I became mom-age
I spray painted a heart over my heart
left room for your own scented marker designs
and chalk drawings

That’s when it happened
finger prints
sand shifted into tiny colorful hand pictures
floor littered with Kleenex smile-kiss-prints
and teardrop smudged watercolor rainbows

you grabbed my hand
pulled me back from an impressionist’s rendition of love art
little finger dots
cool aide splashes
mother and daughter timelessly giggling
Monet would call it
woman and child in color
the scene did not change
but you did
and
in I-Spy fashion you saw it!

I love you too.

Bottled Water

 

Words come alive
passing from moist lips to any ear who hears
a kiss of thoughts

I died in 1993
and rose again a moment after
water cold
cleansed words scoured inside
rose like rivers in spring
and flooded
anyone who asked for directions
like miniature prophets
who hand out bottled water
on Florida streets in July

July is the anniversary of my death…

a pastor
a prophet
a homeless man

they really were three men
who looked like one in motion
pulling over at the bus stations in an old Ford pickup truck

the thirsty drank
and some died… the way I died
and words came to life
like this poet’s.

Beyond My Neighbor’s Fence

Now I remember why walls, whitewashed or otherwise, are so cumbersome…

The Renegade Bride

When I see you across denominationsImage

I miss you

hide my face behind Grandma’s Methodist bible

and secretly wish

there was no fence.

When I see you, hair flying

dripping wet in river

sand and summer

I know you carry a bucket

to share

One with the label peeled off

no price tag

no brand

just happy sand, river water

and shovels

When I hear you

I hear rivers rolling

laughing, living

beyond bank barriers

and no trespassing signs

because you…

you are welcome

to this wall-less mountain temple

to splash water

mountain air

smile sand scrubbed faces

you are welcome

to live beyond temples

city buildings, conversions of holy things

and simply be…

His brother

His daughter

His beloved

and my friend.

View original post

Beyond My Neighbor’s Fence

When I see you across denominationsImage

I miss you

hide my face behind Grandma’s Methodist bible

and secretly wish

there was no fence.

 

When I see you, hair flying

dripping wet in river

sand and summer

I know you carry a bucket

to share

 

One with the label peeled off

no price tag

no brand

just happy sand, river water

and shovels

 

When I hear you

I hear rivers rolling

laughing, living

beyond bank barriers

and no trespassing signs

because you…

 

you are welcome

to this wall-less mountain temple

to splash water

mountain air

smile sand scrubbed faces

you are welcome

to live beyond temples

city buildings, conversions of holy things

and simply be…

 

His brother

His daughter

His beloved

and my friend.

 

If I had Flowers to Lay On His Grave…

FlagNote: This began as a vision Memorial Day morning.  I was so moved by the Holy Spirit that I was prompted to act out the vision of presenting the American flag to God, our Father as a prophetic act.  I even woke up my oldest daughter and asked her to take the above picture.

I stepped into the field surrounding my home, the hem of my jeans drenched in dew.  I carried the American flag high, careful to not let it touch the ground, as I stepped through the high grass.  Cloaked in mist and early morning, I knelt in the rain soaked field.  I thought, and remembered how my father fought in the Vietnam War, a war so few talk about.  My father is still alive today and I have honored him before by giving him tulips which bloom each year.  I remembered my grandfather and how while I was in high school, he would speak in French with me because he fought there during World War II.   If I had flowers to lay upon his grave, he would probably grin and wish they were his chocolate cigars.

Then my thoughts returned to a dream I had in 1999, a dream I should have shared much sooner than this.

I was walking in a long line with a group of refugees.  Our clothes were brown, gray or colored that way from being unwashed and soiled.  Our faces were drawn and skinny and we all looked tired except for a flicker of something in our eyes.  To me, it looked like hope.  We were being led to a large ship that looked like a cargo ship or a barge that carried large equipment across the sea.  We were granted safe passage across the sea.  We were herded suspiciously gently by a group of soldiers.  As we walked, the sun was warm on my back and I passed people from my present.  They did not go with me, but faded like vapor.

Time shifted and I was now out at sea, the night and the cold pressed around us.  I was no longer a person on the ship, but a supernatural observer watching as a ghost.  Many of the refugees were standing in groups along the edges of the ship.  A whistle would blow and groups would be taken into the center of the barge down to the cargo holding floor.  The ship smelled like metal in my dream and was cold the way metal and the sea are cold when they are together.  I was on the upper level of the ship.  In this place the wives and family members of some of the soldiers traveled comfortably on small couches or chairs.  I noticed a young woman, plain in appearance, wearing a long petticoat, protectively guarding a young boy who looked the age of three.  She appeared to be trying to hide him with her petticoat.  The boy was not Polish, he was Jewish. 

Her anxiety increased as her husband, one of the officers, came to her and sternly eyed the boy.  She spoke fiercely to her husband and I understood that she was keeping him to raise for herself.  He turned on his heel, having lost the battle, but not before cautioning his wife to keep the boy hidden.  Strangely, they spoke Polish but I understood them.  Then a piercing whistle shattered the image and I was simultaneously jerked down to one of the levels overlooking the cargo floor.  Soldiers lined the second and third levels and aimed and shot their firearms, killing the refugees on the whistle blow.  The refugees were piled up like trash and heaved over the edge into ocean graves.  I watched as one woman was roughly shoved over the railing and understood her to be the mother of the child I had just witnessed.

Then I woke up.

In my awakened state, I rose from bed and went downstairs.  I knew this vision was more than a dream.  I lay prostrate before God weeping and crying out for his understanding.  He then revealed to me that the Polish woman who took the boy was one of my ancestors.  She had raised the child as her own after the Polish army fighting with the German’s had killed his mother and his people.  The boy was Jewish.  Then I heard God say,

“Three times your life was spared when you lived with your German step-father.  Your life was spared because of this woman’s choice to save the boy.”

Thus the saying ‘One sows and another reaps’ is true.  I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor.” John 4:37-38

I wept, openly with remorse.  I repented for my family and relatives I never knew.  My face pressed to the carpet as I sobbed in anguish and grief for the lost life of those Jewish lives and the salvation of my own.  I thanked God.

When I got up from my prayer, I had an unusual desire to look at the calendar; unusual because it was a Sunday.  The day revealed that is was Holocaust Remembrance Day.  I sat shocked, weeping yet again at my Father’s mercy and attention to detail.

Time stopped and the hour was redeemed.  My times were redeemed (Psalm 31) because of a choice a woman made generations ago.  This is a season when God is calling forth that which was sown from generations past.  Is God that particular?  This is a place where I see the Lion of God and the Lamb, Jesus, resting side by side; redeeming one life for another, yet exercising profound judgment.  It is bold to say that God may have allowed my abuse as a youth in the German Satanic occult so that I might understand the pain and suffering endured by another tribe and nation.  I ponder this often, knowing because of the Lamb that was sacrificed for me, that I am fiercely loved by that same God.

After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands.  And they cried out in a loud voice:

“Salvation belongs to our God,
who sits on the throne,
and to the Lamb.”  Revelation 7:9-10

Sometimes redeeming the time is pulling from the past that which was planted so that it may produce life now.

I would never consider providing this perspective to someone who was young in their healing.  This is not about blaming oneself for their present circumstances; it is simply about  understanding why such a thing would occur with so many obvious connections.  It is conceptualizing the fear of the Lord on a personal level so that on a national level or tribal level one might consider what has been sown before.  Think of the winter seed.  It lies dormant for many winters, and might emerge only when the sun is warm enough and the rain, abundant.  It pushes through the earth when all of the season’s provisions proves ready to sustain such a seed.

Why does this matter today?

We have forsaken God as a nation.  We have become proud.  We have boasted our self-reliance.  We have taken the matter into our own hands (whatever that matter may be) and God has honored our request and left us to our own powers, our own strengths, our own conceptualizations, our very own and individual folly.  There may be grace from the prayers and godly actions of your ancestors to draw upon in this hour of judgement.  There may have been grace even from the prayers of our founding fathers.  I wonder… Can that grace run out?

Early this morning, Memorial Day, after contemplating such things, I saw myself standing at attention, carefully folding our American flag like the lieutenant who had once taught my Girl Scout troop, carefully paying attention to each fold and its meaning.  In my spirit, I knelt before God, and solemnly presented Him with the American flag.  My heart felt heavy as His sadness infiltrated my heart.  He longs for us to remember Him:

 

No sooner had Gideon died than the Israelites again prostituted themselves to the Baals.They set up Baal-Berith as their god and did not remember the Lord their God, who had rescued them from the hands of all their enemies on every side. They also failed to show any loyalty to the family of Jerub-Baal (that is, Gideon) in spite of all the good things he had done for them. Judges 8:33-35

I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. Psalm 77:11

They remembered that God was their Rock, that God Most High was their Redeemer. Psalm 78:35

Remember today that your children were not the ones who saw and experienced the discipline of the Lord your God: his majesty, his mighty hand, his outstretched arm…. Deut 11:2
Remember the days of old; consider the generations long past. Ask your father and he will tell you, your elders, and they will explain to you. Deut 32:7
He remembered that they were but flesh, a passing breeze that does not return. Psalm 78:39
“On that day, I will banish the names of the idols from the land, and they will be remembered no more,” declares the Lord Almighty. “I will remove both the prophets and the spirit of impurity from the land. Zechariah 13:2

Hosea 9:8-10

New International Version (NIV)

The prophet, along with my God,
    is the watchman over Ephraim,[a]
yet snares await him on all his paths,
    and hostility in the house of his God.
They have sunk deep into corruption,
    as in the days of Gibeah.
God will remember their wickedness
    and punish them for their sins.

10 “When I found Israel,
    it was like finding grapes in the desert;
when I saw your ancestors,
    it was like seeing the early fruit on the fig tree.
But when they came to Baal Peor,
    they consecrated themselves to that shameful idol
    and became as vile as the thing they loved.

 

If I had Flowers to Lay upon His Grave

 

I would sit barefoot

tuck my skirt around my legs

and try not to pull daisy petals

to prove He loves me

 

I would notice human tears

like glass drops suspended on each blade of grass

try not to look away

from heaven’s diamonds

 

I would sigh

sing a hymn

that sounded suspiciously like

a ballad

 

I would want to dance

 

when no one was looking

I would inconspicuously twirl

smell your woodsy aroma

sun drenched hands cupping my face

 

my smiling face

because I know you dance

on grassy heaven hills

where no tomb reminisces

no epitaph summons

 

living, I wait

impatiently pacing earth

with paper wrapped flowers

crinkled and  faded

living to let go

catch your hand midair

lace our fingers together

and never let go again

 

 

 

 

 

Is there no balm in Gilead?

The time is so short. God is calling us to leave everything behind, follow Him, be healed and heal.

My Dreams and Visions

Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then has the healing of the daughter of My people not come?
(Jer 8:22)

I have been seeing this vision for a good part of the day and am up now and can’t sleep because I feel compelled to post it. Note above the scripture posted. The vision I have been seeing is of what looks like a hospital, maybe one like you would find from long ago where they would have many beds with sick people in them all in one room. In this vision there were many people and as I said previously, they were all in one room and all were sick.

I saw a man with a clip board in his hands standing in front of the beds. In the vision he wasn’t treating anyone, he was just standing there with his clipboard observing…

View original post 425 more words

The Incubator

Last night, at midnight, I peaked into our chicken egg incubator and there, hidden in the corner, upside down and caught beneath the egg prongs was a tiny little black feathered chick.  I threw my toothbrush, removed the lid and began calling the family to help me.  My oldest was with me because we had stayed up late watching Veronica Mars.  Thank God we had stayed up, or this chick would not have made it.  I am smiling right now because I can hear her clear on the other side of the house calling for me, her mama.  My husband helped to pull the front row of egg turners so I could lift her up out of the incubator.  What a way to enter the world!

Our first baby chick hatched in an incubator

Our first baby chick hatched in an incubator

We purchased this amazing incubator from a garage sale a month ago for just ten bucks.  Before that, my husband and I worked together to move, paint and prepare the old chicken coop abandoned and in disrepair on our property.  A new friend gave me one dozen of her adult chickens from which to learn- and did I ever!  I learned about predators, I learned about chicken wire, and I learned that chickens have little personalities of their own!

Snow White after healing from her dog attack.

Snow White after healing from her dog attack.

My first favorite was Snow White.  In the fall, she got sick and I nursed her back to health.  The day I returned her to the flock, a Golden Retriever escaped and killed 3 of my chickens.  I fell to my knees, sobbing when I found Snow White in the field.  I held her in my lap and wept that she was gone.  That evening I realized that another chicken was missing and I found her barely alive, hiding in the pump house.  She had a huge gouge in her back where the dog had bitten her.  I prayed as I sought answers on my favorite chicken websites.  Three days later, I returned Raven to the flock where she thrived.  She became my second favorite.  Since I bathed her and hand fed her yogurt and feed, she became my pet.  She followed me around the farm, she would jump up on the bench and stand next to me like a lap dog.  She was so sweet.  I lost her just three days ago, May 30th.

There is a reason for the saying, “Like a fox in the hen house!”  In the middle of the night, I heard a loud sound outside my bedroom window.  Then I heard a squawk and silence.  I ran outside in my mud boots and looked in the hen house.  There were 3 hens and my rooster, Chanticlear.  Raven was missing.

Chanticlear.  The new chick's daddy!

Chanticlear. The new chick’s daddy!

I ran to the front yard and found the screen on the ground.  It looked like Raven had tried to come in through my window.  A fox had come in the night and taken my Raven girl.  I tried not to cry, I mean by this time I had butchered two chickens because they became sick.  Another had been taken by that same wily fox and petite little Charlie blew away in that wind storm we had mid April.  With four chickens and a rooster I had hoped we could hatch an egg in our incubator.

God is purposeful in everything He does.  He uses everything for our good, but at the time, I didn’t believe that.  I was keeping a long list of why I wasn’t any good.  I was also keeping a long list of why others weren’t any good either.  In March, I attended a prayer meeting in town.  I arrived with the full intent to pray, but instead experienced bizarre worship that included monotone  proclamations and mash-ups of old worship songs.  It felt like theater-art rather than a prayer meeting.  It also made me sad because, unless one was affiliated with this group, and had been taught or trained, it was difficult to find any kind of common ground in Christ, and the experience was lost on anyone new to Christianity.

However, since God knows what He’s doing and uses “all things for my good,” he used this moment to speak through a friend.  She eagerly sat next to me and said, “Do you feel like you’re in an incubator?  I look at you and see this beautiful golden orb.”  At that point, no one knew about our new incubator.  We had the incubator, but hadn’t placed any eggs and I understood that her words were prophetic.  I took the image home with me and thought about its meaning, talking with God all the while.  I considered how difficult my inner dialog had been lately, and how tattered my self-perception had become.  I felt like I was stuck in the muck of popular opinion

The list of people’s opinions of me was long.  Since my youth, I have felt the need to defend myself to “The List Keepers.”  Have you ever noticed how once you challenge those lists of judgements everyone starts pecking at you at once?  In the middle of my incubation time with God and the pondering of the records kept by so called experts, I sought counsel of my own, letting off some steam, in hope for some encouragement. I was told by a pastor, “Why don’t you quit!?”  Ouch!  Not at all what I needed.  But, it was as though I was handing him an autograph book filled from beginning to end with people’s opinions and judgements of myself.  Please sign here your list of disapprovals.  People seemed to come out of the woodwork all at once to tell me what a mess up I was, what a mistake I had turned out to be, “You need to work on yourself,” filled the pages.  A metaphorical skulk of foxes, and not so lightly veiled I might add!

What is this lesson God?  Then understanding dropped into my heart, invaded my soul and cleared the fog of judgement and self-hate from my mind.  I have kept a list of my wrongs.  In my mind, I was everyone’s enemy, my own worst enemy.  I might as well have posted my failures on facebook for the world to see!  Not good enough, not believable, untrustworthy, failure, resented, hated, not pretty enough, not perfect, mistake maker, and the list goes on.  Then, in the middle of my incubation period, God spoke:

Darcy, do you know the love verse?  

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails. 1 Cor 13: 4-8

“Yes, I know that verse.”

Do you know this verse?

 “God is love.”  1 John 4:8

“Yes, Lord, I love that verse.”

Then, if I am Love, this is true:

God is patient, God is kind. He does not envy, He does not boast, He is not proud.  He does not dishonor others, and is not self-seeking, He is not easily angered, He keeps no record of wrongs….

He keeps no record of wrongs.  He keeps no record of wrongs!

The truth of those words landed squarely in the middle of my personal list of failures and inadequacies like an arrow in a bulls eye.  If God keeps no record of wrongs, then why do I?

I made two lists; one of the record of wrongs others keep of me, and the other of my own list.  Then… I tore them up!  I don’t have a girl-ripping-up-piece-paper-18395848record of wrongs.  I don’t need anyone’s record of wrongs because my page is empty.  The amazing thing is, I also had a little record of wrongs saved for later about why the eggs won’t hatch.

  • The incubator was too hot a few times and I probably cooked the chicks.  
  • There isn’t enough moisture in the air in the incubator.  
  • The eggs probably aren’t even fertilized… yata, yata, yata.

Well, remember that God works all things together for our good (Yeah it’s true!  Check out Romans 8:28)?  Even the bad things, like foxes in the hen house; God will use them for your good!  So, Guess who was the mama of that little chick that hatched?

The evidence of New Life!

The evidence of New Life!

Raven!

God is so tender hearted to care for us like that.

New life abounds and doors open when we hear God, flap our wings and Live!

The Record Warden

Word stained paper

smudged fingerprintsGOD Is 'LOVE' - 1 John 4 verses 7-8

generations old

hang upon heart walls like museum halls

 

Love songs written like graffiti in the margins

of an ancient scroll

mothers and fathers old

living patterns emerge

like wrinkles on an old map

 

How long

will I carry such a map?

There is no treasure at the X

there is a cross

where I stand pondering

two perfectly framed pages ripped from a book

 

one loss

one love

 

One Love

 

Word stained pages

blood smudges

as old as creation

tattooed words stamped upon a man encasing a heart

all hearts, if we allow the image

 

Love words, like kisses, written between the lines

on ancient scroll

where only a word appears

breathing and heaving, alive

 

I will tear out the page

trade my map, discreetly folded

wrinkled and forgotten

and then we will sing through the halls

while jiggling keys on the ring

Love keeps no record…

Love keeps no record of…

Love keeps no record of wrongs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Blood Moon Passover

“Mom! Get up! It’s time,” said a partially excited Brianna. She was partially excited only because she was still partially asleep.

“Okay, I’m up. Is it 3?” I asked, wiping the little bit of sleep from eyes and climbing into my favorite zipper robe and flowery mud boots.

“Yeah Mom, it’s 3,” she whispered. “Now come on or we’ll miss it.” She clambered down the hallway in pj’s, only socks and a blanket.

We entered the night as though it was another room. The quiet of Aspen Springs magnified the stars welcoming us. If ever there was a quiet, still voice, it was then. Tiarra appeared out of nowhere, as usual, and climbed into my lap for warmth (mine really) while the youngest, Sierra opted to remain snuggled in bed. We peered into the night sky for the anticipated “blood moon.”blood moon

The shadow of the earth passed over the moon before our eyes while I sat contemplating my time with my three daughters during spring break. We had begun a 12 day lesson using resurrection eggs I found at a garage sale the summer before. A donkey, coins totaling 30 pieces paid to Judas when he betrayed Jesus, the Passover cup, praying hands, a leather whip and a crown of thorns. Most of the tokens demonstrated the spilled blood of Jesus; Jesus riding humbly upon the donkey, entering Jerusalem as The Sacrificial Lamb (Mat 21:1-9) and Judas kissing Jesus, identifying Him as The King of Jews for a measly 30 coins(Matthew 26: 46-50, 27:1-5). Jesus made sure, however, that it was only His blood that would be spilled and when one of Jesus’ friends cut off the ear of a servant of the high priest in protest to His arrest, what did Jesus do? He put the ear back on (Mat 26:50)!

But the most profound of these tokens thus far was the Passover Cup. The trail of blood that we followed began in Egypt when the Jewish people were told by God to take a lamb, sacrifice it, prepare it for eating and “take some of the blood and put it on the sides and tops of the doorframes of the houses where they eat the lambs.” (Ex 12:7)

“On that same night I will pass through Egypt and strike down every firstborn of both people and animals, and I will bring judgment on all the gods of Egypt. I am the Lord.13 The blood will be a sign for you on the houses where you are, and when I see the blood, I will pass over you. No destructive plague will touch you when I strike Egypt.
14 “This is a day you are to commemorate; for the generations to come you shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord—a lasting ordinance. “ Ex 12:12-14

The lamb sacrificed and blood painted around the door frames represented The Lamb of God, Jesus. A cup, like the Passover lamb, was also part of the trail of blood leading us to Christ.

Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, and they all drank from it. “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many,” he said to them.25 “Truly I tell you, I will not drink again from the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.”

The very next day Jesus was crucified. He became that sacrificial lamb. He became that cup spilled out upon the ground. He became the blood spilled out over the doorposts of our very hearts.

As I sat there, bundled up with my daughters I marveled that in the middle of the night we were all passed over by a “blood moon.”       Then it occurred to me… today is the first day of Passover.

Today the destroying angel comes, not to kill the first born of those who do not believe, but to destroy within those who do believe the things that keep us from following Him. And what are those things? Like the Israelites, freshly rescued from Egypt and lives of slavery, we share the temptation to build an idol while we wait for God. The Israelites slipped back into old patterns and out of doubt and impatience decided to forgo waiting for Moses and God, and worship a golden calf instead.

“When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain, they gathered around Aaron and said, ‘Come, make us gods who will go before us. As for this fellow Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don’t know what has happened to him.’
Aaron answered them, “Take off the gold earrings that your wives, your sons and your daughters are wearing, and bring them to me.” So all the people took off their earrings and brought them to Aaron. He took what they handed him and made it into an idol cast in the shape of a calf, fashioning it with a tool. Then they said, “These are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt.”
When Aaron saw this, he built an altar in front of the calf and announced, “Tomorrow there will be a festival to the Lord.” So the next day the people rose early and sacrificed burnt offerings and presented fellowship offerings. Afterward they sat down to eat and drink and got up to indulge in revelry. (Ex 32:1-6)

“These are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt!?” Really? After everything God has done, they are going to doubt Him and give the credit to a homely little calf made from bits of gold and risk the same death that defeated the Egyptians.

Then the Lord said to Moses, “Go down, because your people, whom you brought up out of Egypt, have become corrupt. They have been quick to turn away from what I commanded them and have made themselves an idol cast in the shape of a calf. They have bowed down to it and sacrificed to it and have said, ‘These are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt.’
“I have seen these people,” the Lord said to Moses, “and they are a stiff-necked people. Now leave me alone so that my anger may burn against them and that I may destroy them. Then I will make you into a great nation.”

But Moses sought the favor of the Lord his God….
Then the Lord relented and did not bring on his people the disaster he had threatened. Exodus 32:7-11,14

Moses isn’t here to defend our cause, but Jesus is.

against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgment.” Exodus 12:12

As the destroying angel goes to and fro during this Passover season, you will see and know the “golden calves” and “gods of Egypt” between you and God. They will be destroyed. They must be destroyed. Yet, God will not destroy us completely; He passes over us because of the blood Jesus spilled over the door posts of our heart. Don’t wait to make your decisions out of fear or doubt. Allow God to remove these idols; the sign of the blood moon rising on the first day of Passover is significant. Do not ignore His call. My message is simple: have no gods or idols before you, it’s dangerous.

I am with you and will save you,’ declares the Lord. ‘Though I completely destroy all the nations among which I scatter you, I will not completely destroy you. I will discipline you but only in due measure; I will not let you go entirely unpunished.’ Jeremiah 30:11