One Woman with God

"and yet Elijah was sent to none of them, but only to Zarephath, in the land of Sidon, to a woman who was a widow."                                                       Luke 4:26


Elijah, the Prophet of God, who as you read in 1 Kings 17, heard the voice of God and obeyed. He never questioned, never took a detour along the way. He was an ordinary man who simply trusted and obeyed, even if it meant confronting an evil king.


Later, God told Elijah to go to Zarephath, a widow. He was hungry. God told him to ask her for a cake of bread, knowing full well the woman had only enough flour and oil for one last meal for herself and her son before they would starve to death.

The part that gets me, is that God also knew Zarephath's servant heart. Even though she and her son had nothing more, she was willing to give up her last meal for this man of God, and trust that when Elijah told her "do not fear", "for thus says the LORD GOD of Israel, "the bowl of flour shall not be exhausted, nor shall the jar of oil be empty, until the day that the Lord sends rain on the face of the earth." 1 Kings 17:14

Oh that my heart would trust God's provision in such a way as Zarephath...create in me a servant's heart, O God. A giving heart that doesn't hesitate even if it's the last can in the cupboard.  "So she went and did according to the word of Elijah, and she, and he, and her household ate for many days." 1Kings 17:15

One woman standing with God can be a means of rich blessings for the people around her. Among the many women in Elijah's day, there was Zaraphath, The woman chosen by God to provide for the needs of His prophet Elijah, because He knew she would regardless of her circumstances. May God make me such a woman today.


But a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised.                               Proverbs 31:30

 You know God wants to tell you something when He keeps putting the same Scripture verse in front of you for two days in a row..

Even now, behold, my Witness is in heaven, and my Advocate is on high... Job 16:19

I love it when He does that! It's like he's saying, "HELLLLOOOO! Are you listening to me? I really need you to hear this!"

Having worked with special needs kids, my mind immediately recalls the yearly IEPs and constant advocating that become a parent's priority. Everyday. Whatever it takes.

My Witness. My Advocate. Jesus Christ, who has my back and goes to bat for me, making accommodations on my behalf that I never even know about. He is my Voice. He make things happen on my behalf that I could never do for myself. 

As a mentor of a young lady who just needs to know that someone cares about her, wants the best for her, and will be her voice, I am so thankful that I am not alone, taking this responsibility on by myself. 

There are so many other people surrounding her to help lead her in the right direction. It brings me great comfort knowing that her Greatest Advocate reigns on high, and knows her and loves her far better than we ever could. She is His Child and there is nothing He won't do for her.

Looking back on my life I can now see Him looking down from on high like a protective parent, my Witness who sees from above my every need; My Protector, Provider, Merciful Savior, Redeemer, and Healer. I need never worry because He stands in the gap. Every day. Whatever it takes. 

  

Reflection

re·flec·tion

rəˈflekSH(ə)n/

noun

1. 1.

   the throwing back by a body or surface of light, heat, or sound without absorbing it.

   "the reflection of light"

   synonyms:

   sending back, throwing back, casting back "the reflection of light"
2. 2.

   serious thought or consideration.

   "he doesn't get much time for reflection"

   synonyms:

   thought, thinking, consideration, contemplation, deliberation,pondering, meditation, musing, rumination;  formalcogitation "after some reflection, he turned it down" As I ponder, yes, reflect, on what that really means, my thoughts scatter in a million different directions. In the last 12 hours I have had much to reflect upon. Life changes on a dime. Things we thought to be true reveal themselves and suddenly perspective is just that...a perception. Fleating, hurting, deceiving... Yet, when truth is revealed, I find that reflection can offer Hope. Quiet, deep reflecting, thinking, praying...God speaks. He brings comfort to my soul. Peace in the midst of storm and the unknowing. I surrender it all to Him. Because this, this is a helplessness that brings me to my knees. She is Yours. Help her. When you think about it there are reflectors everywhere; on bicycles, fences, mailboxes, roadways...they are meant to keep us safe... Reflection is beautiful, peaceful, breathtaking... Revealing... I am a reflection. That is a scary and convicting thought. My life, every minute of my day is a reflection of who I am and what I believe...how I feel, how I am feeling. And so I have to ask myself, what does that look like to those whom God has chosen to put in my life? Not just those who I see everyday or have relationships with, but those who He chooses to cross my path if only for a fleeting moment... Am I reflecting His love? If reflections, of any sort; on a road, a pond, in quietness, in a mirror... offer protection, peace, hope,comfort...is that not who Jesus is, all those things...and am I being who He has asked me to me in skin, a reflection of Him?  Lord, I pray that Your "reflectors" everywhere would show themselves today to those who need Your protection, Your comfort, Your peace, and Your direction.  I pray specifically for the one heavy on my heart who I cannot be with, only in spirit. Let her feel Your very real presence today in her pain, O God.  https://youtu.be/uOg-1JjAdGk

A Reason to Celebrate

Wednesday, December 24, 2014
5:37am

The rain pitter patters on the concrete outside my bedroom window...such a contrast to the blizzard that swept through at just this time last year.

Candles of advent flicker in soft shadows. My safe haven. Here, with You, in the rising of a new day...basking in Your holy Presence...drinking in the quiet like a hot cup in the cold of morning.

Drench me, Father, with Your unending love. Let me soak You up while You prepare me for ths day, as we prepare to celebrate the birth of Your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior.

Memories flood of Christmas' past with the kids, trying to get it all right, so they would get it all right...that they would get You right.

Your Birthday cake on Christmas Eve and reading Luke 2 about that Celebration so many, many years ago. I pray they got that...That you are the Gift.

You gave us You. God gave God. Gave grace, so we could have an intimate, eternal relationship with You, the All Mighty God of the Universe.

All we need is to receive You. We don't have to perform, or perfect, or prepare...we only need to receive the Love that you offer us.

Open up the Living Book, even if for just five minutes. Let it breathe life into your drained and weary spaces. If you don't feel inspired or "spoken to" that's okay. Let it be an offering to your God. There is power in His Word and in His Name...whisper Jesus, and His holy Spirit will fill you right where you are with all that you need. Let it be a start...today is a new day, a day of Hope,,,

when you open your hand to receive The Gift.

Be Still and Know...

Why is this simple request, to be still, so difficult? Why do I get so hung up in the chaos of life that I don't readily accept this gift from the Giver?

I strive, I stress, and when life becomes seemingly out of control my first response should be to
still...
But do I?
I have good intentions, I tell myself, after I have cried and whined and stomped my feet, "not fair"!

And so He gently calms me with a whisper through my tears...
"Someone else needs to be here", He tells my heart.
"Oh, I say...this isn't about me? What if I'm not ready yet? I love my house, I plead!
A new chapter, He says...put the big girl panties on and let's do this!

So, through tears, with pen in hand, I write her a blessing. I will leave it in the kitchen cupboard to find as she removes dishes from the boxes and puts them away. This is what the Lord put on my heart for the one whom He has chosen to live in the Cozy Cottage...

August 12, 2014
Welcome to your new home!
I hope you will love it as much as I have.
It is bittersweet for me, but it is time for me to begin a new chapter in my life,
and you as well.

I know not your name or your face, but I hope you find it comforting to know
you are here by Divine appointment, you see,
I have been praying for you~that God would lead you right here~
to a safe haven of rest and peace.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, plans to prosper you,
and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Jeremiah 29:13

Five years ago, I was a hurting, broken, and lost soul in need of great healing.
This home has been God's gift of provision, protection, and comfort. 
Over the years, it has been covered in prayer by many and has been such
a blessing to me.

When the Lord put it on my heart, that it was time to move, I'll be honest,
I dug my heels in right tight. But He wouldn't relent.
Finally, today, with  compassion in His voice,  just flat out told me,
"Someone else needs to be here more than you,"
That is when, and why, I began praying for you.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to Him and He will make your paths straight."
Proberbs 3:5-6

As much as I don't want to leave this cozy cottage, I must be obedient. 
I pray I have prepared it well for you, and that you will, in time, find healing
and peace,
not just here in your new home, but deep in your heart with your Saviour Jesus. 
I pray you know Him, and if not, 
it is my prayer He will make Himself known to you very soon.

I am leaving a gift for you on the wall in the dining room. 
Find great strength and confidence in the verse as I have.
You are not alone, 
hope is not lost.

Held by Him,
Laurie

Lord, thank You in advance for the doors you will open and close that will lead me to where you would bave me begin this new chapter in my life. Amen.

Holding him...

His hands are knarled, too weak to pull or hold. Knarled and weak, like his thoughts, unable to hold them. Life is cruel.

Life is scary...so is letting go.

My hope is in Him.

My dad, who held me as a child, clings to life...his days hold no hope because he doesn't know what hope is.

Such knowledge has been erased with his memories and all-knowing.

So, with My Heavenly Father, I hold him...

Reflection

Knowing God is with me then and feeling His very real Presence in a given moment are two very different experiences. One comforts, one overwhelms and literally brings you to your knees. This morning I had the privilege of sitting in His lap, held and healed, basking in His Love beyond measure.

As I read my devotions this morning, from Ann Voskamp, titled Affectionate Grace, I am choking out sobs at the depth and truth of her words. (see below) They are mine. Words I lived. When soul and hell meet, you live this truth, this darkness that only you and God know. Because He's been there too and He's there, at the bottom, dark, dank, bottomless.

He meets me, takes my hand, and knowing I am helpless to even take one step; gathers me to Himself and carries me up into Light. I am half-way to whole and He fills me. Heals me. Time. Grace. Love. Joy. Peace. All Him. All His. Forever, I am. His The Only I AM,



Hosea 2:19~20 And then I'll marry you for good~forever! I'll marry you true and proper, in love and tenderness. Yes, I'll marry you and neither leave you nor let you go. You'll know Me, GOD, for Who I really am.

Affectionate Grace

Ann Voskamp

The bride wears white.

And the day I get married I do, yet most of my life I've worn black.

I know who I've been.

The first memory I ever held was the blood of my sister running, everything alive draining away. I came from here. We breathed grief. 

Black fears formed me.

There were years I cut myself along the thin skin of the wrists, wild for a way out of a darkness that chokes.

On a Sunday morning we sit in our country chapel. Shalom(daughter) slips on the Farmer's lap. I sit waiting, rubbing my wrist. Rubbing the edge of my black cuff. Before us are the bread and juice of the vine. The loaf of bread that will be broken in half.

The bread will be pure white. I can never thank Him enough.

It's still in the chapel sanctuary. The piano notes  begin. One woman's quavering voice begins alone.

"When I survey the wondrous cross.."

The nails right through. The glorious way out of everything that has been. 

Out of all my black...the horror of death, the relentless prison of fear, the way pain pursued, a whole family aching endless with wounds we couldn't heal. 

Him the only Way out.

And when I survey, she's there too, way in the back of my past, Bible teacher Kay Arthur on a long-ago platform, her voice quaking with Calvary's love - it's hell and it's healing, and I'm not yet twenty-one, and when she tells me what love saved me, the spit and the beard plucked cruel, His ribs rising and falling hard, wild gasp for breath, the purest God-Man subjected to vilest humanity -

all my hard exterior cracks right open and runs liquid and what do we know of true love?

"See from His head, His hands, His feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down..."

And I'm sitting there before Communion, rubbing my wrist, and all I can think of is that woman in Luke 7, the one in the shadows with her alabaster jar and she's weeping in the black. She knows who she's been.

A dark storm, she cries. She wets Jesus' feet with her tears. She "rains," it reads, in the original Greek brecho.

She rains; she's this brecho that breaks. she's this full rain falling. She's this heart-water let loose. 

Him so pure and His feet so dirty. 

Her so filthy and Him her only purity. 

Will anyone wash His feet with their love?

And that woman, she has no pitcher but she has passion - the kind no Pharisee could ever understand and she has no water but she has her heart.

She pours it out. She pours it out.

And with no towel but tresses, no hand cloth but her hair, she does the unthinkable, the scorned and the disgraced.

When all Jewish women were required to keep their hair done up, lest they be seen as shameful and loose, she lets her locks down.

Rabbis, men of the law, said that if a woman loosed her hair in public, let her hair flow mingled down, it was grounds for divorce.

Grounds to be shamed and sent away.

But there is a love far greater than law.

That Luke woman, she lets her hair loose, lets her love loose and she looks loose and there are always Michals who will scorn David's dancing before the ark - but Jesus lets her kiss Him.

It seems shocking, appalling too intimate, and this kataphileo, these kisses,

this is the same word of the father kissing the prodigal son, a symbolic picture of God embracing, the father falling on the neck of his child and kissing, and doesn't the whole realm of earth need to be seized with a power of a great affection, "for we are member of His body, of His flesh, and of His bones" (Ephesians 5:30)

The Pharisee had no water for His feet but she gave her heart-water.

And the Pharisee had not towel but she laid out her loose, silken hair.

And Pharisee had no towel but she couldn't stop kissing His feet,

her grateful love the most expensive perfume - the kind that cost her the respect of men but earned her the pearl of great price, the acceptance of Jesus - "for she loved much" (Luke 7:47)...

"Your faith has saved you; go in peace" (Luke 7:50)

She gave her grateful love as an intimate gift.

And her heart-water and costly love are gifts full received and accepted by Christ.

And our God is the God who whispers, "Call Me Husband."

The God who says, "Yet you were naked and bare. Then I passed by you and saw you, and behold, you were at the time for love; so I spread My skirt over you and covered your nakedness...and entered a covenant with you so that you became Mine" (Ezekiel 16:7-9)

The Savior celebrates communion with His bride, the spiritual oneness He made her for.

Will anyone wash His feet with their love?

"Were the whole realm of nature mine, that were an offering far too small.."

I'm murmuring the notes of the song before Communion and these inner dark clouds split into white, the brecho that breaks, and Elie Wiese had said, "No one is capable of gratitude as one who has emerged from the kingdom of night."

In the middle of the hymn, Shalom leans off the Farmer's lap, leans her face into mine that's emerged from the dark, her long hair, curling wisps, framing everything and she reaches out to touch my cheek..

My wet cheek. I can never thank Him enough.

She who's been freed of much, freely loves, and she who knows how she's forgiven, how she gives thanks.

She gives back everything.

It is possible to have a form of religion and be formed by love for Christ. And it's possible to see the law but be blind to love. And love for all, no matter what, is what never fails...

Who feels such gratitude for their salvation in Christ that they live such affection for Christ?

Who can say just this: "Lord,  you know all things; you know that I love you"? Oh please, Lord - let it be said of us.

What is greater proof to the world of the power of the gospel of Christ than the world witnessing the power of profuse love for Christ?

Shalom brushes away what's running down, all my rain, and she barely whispers it.

"Why you cryin', Mama...and smiling?"

I have no words. Just shake my head. Just eyes on the words of the hymn.

Just love falling.

"Because of Jesus, Mama?"

I nod and the sanctuary fills:

Love so amazing, so divine, demands

my soul,

my life,

my all.

Lord, forgive me. It is possible to have a form of religion and not be formed by love for Christ. Lord, forgive me" It is possible to see the law but be blind to love. Lord, forgive me. You know all things and You know all the days I didn't thank You - that I have not expressed my love to You. Today, cause me to feel such gratitude for my salvation in Christ that I live such affection for Christ. Amen

Given to receive...

All different sizes, exquisitely designed wrapping paper, perfectly tied up with the most beautiful glittering ribbons.. gifts too beautiful to be opened...

I sit gazing at the beautiful boxes sitting in front of me admiring the painstaking time it must have taken to not only wrap the gifts, but the time and care taken in choosing the gorgeous wrapping. Too pretty to tear apart...imagine what must be hiding inside, I think!

Whatever it is, I surely am not worthy of such beautiful gifts...they can't possibly be for me. I walk away, slowly, dreaming and wondering, looking back over my shoulder, just one more peek. Giddy inside at the thought that they are truly meant for me, even if I can't open them, I know, because my name is clearly written on the tag.

It's okay, I will enjoy just admiring them for what they are, beautiful wrappings.

God has been showing me this week that this, these wrapped up boxes, beautiful though they are, is how I look at life, and how I live it. I live in a box of my own making.

The two biggest boxes are the "me" Box and my God Box.

The "me" box, which I carefully wrapped up all by myself is filled with all the trappings of the enemy's greatest tools; fear, doubt, shame, bitterness; some pretty ugly junk from the trunk of life. The beautiful of the "me" box has made it's way down through all the wadded up tissue and sits hidden in the dark corners. It's probably better if this one stays wrapped. That way they can only see the pretty paper and bow.

My God box...the most beautiful and mysterious of all. Breathtaking. Untouchable. That's what I have told myself. You can look, and desire it more than your next breath. You can claim it, and hold His promises right in the palms of your hands, read it even...but receive it? Open it?

I have opened, have received! Have been covered and held! Praise God! But always, always, I find myself looking inward and seeing ugly, I won't allow myself to hold it for too long. Better to give it back than to have it taken from me.

I have lived the mantra, "be careful what you ask for, you just may get it." It's been excruciatingly painful at times. When you ask God to break you so you can be more like Him. Ummmm...that's not something He takes lightly, especially when He knows you're sincere.

So my gifts continue to pile high to the ceiling, begging to be opened so that I can not only receive them; the blessings of His great love for me, but so I can give them away and really live! Live and enjoy life to the full. Open the box that keeps me from all He has for me. Open His box, fully trust and experience Him for Who He truly is and not who I have made him to be.

As I open this Greatest Gift of all, the one I thought I had all figured out, I am finding that He truly does love me right where I am at. I don't have to be good enough or obsess about keeping rule #544 in order to receive His grace or approval. I am His...just as I am. His child. Made to receive His Love. Unconditional.

Trust His Love. Receive His Love and live it! With a Joyful, Thank-filled heart! Tear off the beautiful wrappings, open His gifts and see what blessings He has for you!

All Things New

2Cor.5:17  Anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun.

Thank you, Jesus, for things new...

New: refreshed, different from one of the same that has existed previously...unfamiliar.

A place to start over. Refresh yourself. Change directions. Begin anew.

"His mercies are new every morning."

Not only can I look at my life, my past, and change the big parts; the habits, the lies I have believed, the box I had created for You and for myself ~ I get to wake up everyday and confess it all...my mistakes, regrets, my attitudes not so pleasing, and then...

You begin to change me from the inside out~ to be more like You.

I can trust, and love...You for now. Baby steps. Biggest. Best steps. Taken toward You.

Catch me when I fall, Father. Everyday. As I stumble and try to find my way. This redirecting in my life can be, and has been painful. Painful, yet necessary.

Necessary for Your Glory.

I am tired. Exhausted. The road of refining has been long and littered in minefields, each revealing a ticking bomb waiting to explode inside of me. And then...

You gently turn m me away, protecting me from self destruction, and lead me back to You with Your gentle whispers.

The enemy wants to fill my head with lies and fear; "You're through. Finished. Burned out. You've been replaced. Forgotten." But God softly speaks to my heart, "I will make up to you for the years that the swarming locust has eaten..." (Joel 2:25a)

God is the only One Who can take ugly, broken and confused and make something beautiful and useful come from it.

Lord Jesus, heal my locust bites. The ones that threaten to infect me. The ugly ones I don't want exposed. I don't want to hide them from you any longer ~ I am ready to put the past behind me and be all you have purposed for me.

Redeemed ~ my new identity. The names do not matter to You. I am made new, and they...the names, they are scars healing. 

My Dad's world...

As most of you know, our dad has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. Looking back, I can remember seeing signs of it about 2009, when he came to help me move into my home in Holland.
     Things that he would have finished in a few hours, like hanging the blinds, took the entire 10 days he was with me. Yes, he accomplished other tasks as well, but that in particular was what first caught my attention.
     Of course, since that time, his condition has worsened.

 Having spent the past week here I am able to see a change even from my last visit this past October. My heart breaks watching him revert back into a child. One who needs constant care and watching over, one whose knowledge is limited, but unlike a child, he won't be learning more as he grows older, he will continue to lose what is left.
     Physically he is deteriorating in many ways too. This once vibrant, "never sit still, there's too much to do" man, now spends his days wandering from room to room looking for my stepmom, or the cat, only to go back to his chair and sleep the day away, then wake up and worry and wonder where she is, again. And this is his day...everyday.

And then she, Gloria, my step mom, comes home and all is right with his world. Until she leaves the room...then the wandering begins until he finds her; down the hall, taking out the garbage, or out on the porch. Even a minute out of his sight is an hour to him.

My heart goes out to her. She spends all day working, and answering her phone to his endless calls, "when are you coming home...I can't find Blacky...did I take my pills?...when are you coming home?" It doesn't matter that I am there, or that the caregiver is with him.

 Then, she comes home and cooks and cares for him and all the responsibilities of the household, until she drops. And then tomorrow comes, and it's the same as the day before.

She is watching her husband disappear before her eyes, yet her love for him and perseverance to take care of him never waivers. Her respite is when he is finally calm enough to fall asleep in the chair. Then she finds the next thing that needs to be seen to. Sometimes I wonder how her wings never seem to get in the way as she goes from task to task and room to room trying to keep their lives together. I haven't heard her complain yet, other than to say that she is tired. When I ask her, "how do you do it?", she replies, "he's my husband." I can't imagine my life without him."

She knows the time is coming, sooner rather than later, when we will all have to face the time when the disease has completely taken him from us, but there is comfort in the knowledge that her love for him will only grow stronger the further away he drifts.

God, I pray that you would continue to strengthen and uplift Gloria each and every day, by Your Grace and Mercy. Provide her with the wisdom to know what to do for him in the upcoming days, months, and years as dad's condition worsens. Cover her and bring her great Peace. Bring her help and support, Father. She is very private and will not complain or ask for help, so bring it to her, I pray In Jesus' precious and Holy Name. Amen.

Windows of Hope

...like broken windows, sunlight shines through the remains left in tact,
but Christ's love PIERCES through the shard of our brokenness

There is a girl. Just turned "Sweet 16". But unlike the old adage, "Sweet 16, never been kissed," this young girl has been
"sold", secretly, since she was a child, by a family member, to support a drug habit.
You know her. If you are reading this. You know her. For her protection, I will not disclose her name.

If you are reading this, you live within 30 miles of where she grew up and this horrific, gut-wrenching act
was forced upon her while she was growing up in our schools. Waking up each morning, after a night of soul-stealing by men she didn't know and couldn't fight off, she would paste on her "let's go to school" smile and sit in your classroom and play with your child. The group of girls who as teens, used to "hang out" in your kitchen, laughing and talking about the next football game.
And then she had to go home, to her literal hell on earth, to obey and to please.
Her life threatened to end if she did not.
I imagine there were many times when that option seemed like the better of the two.

And then God said..."It is finished!" As He has before. Enough is enough.
This is my child.
She will be delivered today.
And through a myriad of events, He alone orchestrated and provided her way out of this bondage that was not to be hers. This is not from God.
God loves His children.
He is our Redeemer. Our Deliverer. Our Healer.

And He is...Through the unconditional love of Jesus Christ, and the those He has called to help with the healing at
Abba's House,
this young girl's life, and the lives of the family members who had no idea what was happening to their child,
God is doing a great and mighty work for His Kingdom.
That you may know.

The program at Abba's House, is a minimum of 18 months, up  to 3 years, depending on the trauma that the child has experienced. It costs the family(s) between $3000-$4000/month for the rehabilitation and care they receive at the home.
What a tremendous burden, not to mention the pain and anguish they are all dealing with.
My heart breaks for them.

Yet, God is good! And there has been great healing and miracles in their lives and hearts,
where He has taken up residence, and will remain, FOREVER.

Please join me helping to support this family. The repurposed windows, that are for sale at Cozy Cottage Blessings, LLC, via Facebook or at Not So Shabby Antique Mall, Holland, Michigan are for sale to help to support this family in our own community. Will you consider purchasing a window, for yourself, or perhaps a gift?
100% of the proceeds goes to Abba's House, and directly deposited to their account.
Checks may be written to Abba's House and I will send them immediately.

Please check out the site, www.abbashousetc.com, to see the amazing work God is doing in the lives of these traumatized teens and their families.

The windows for purchase are pictured on FB, Cozy Cottage Blessing, LLC.
You may email, or call, for my address in which to purchase your window and/or mail your check. If  you live fairly close to the Holland area, I will hand deliver your window so as to save shipping cost.

God Bless you all this holiday season. May the Giver of all Good Gifts speak to your hearts and abide with you,
now and forevermore.
Amen.

Abba's House | Rescue. Restore. Rebuild.

www.abbashousetc.com

Abba's House is a center of mercy and refuge, a safe place for young adults and families to be healed and restored. House of Hope is located in Traverse City, Michigan.

Thank you, Jesus, that I don't have to know why, when, or how, because You already do. I praise You that Your perspective is what determines the outcome for my good. I surrender to Your will, Lord, believing and praying that the desires of my heart bring you all glory. Amen.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l26UoD-N2hA

"Nothing Is Wasted"

The hurt that broke your heart
And left you trembling in the dark
Feeling lost and alone
Will tell you hope's a lie
But what if every tear you cry
Will seed the ground where joy will grow

And nothing is wasted
Nothing is wasted
In the hands of our Redeemer
Nothing is wasted

It's from the deepest wounds
That beauty finds a place to bloom 
And you will see before the end
That every broken piece is
Gathered in the heart of Jesus
And what's lost will be found again

Nothing is wasted
Nothing is wasted
In the hands of our Redeemer
Nothing is wasted

From the ruins 
From the ashes
Beauty will rise
From the wreckage
From the darkness
Glory will shine
Glory will shine

Nothing is wasted
Nothing is wasted
In the hands of our Redeemer
Nothing is wasted
[x2]

From the ruins 
From the ashes
Beauty will rise
From the wreckage
From the darkness
Glory will shine
Glory will shine

I am with you, I am with you, I am with you...

"Will you call me when you have a minute? I have something I need to talk with you about. God has put you on my heart so strongly lately. Can we make a phone date tomorrow night at 8pm?"

There's a girl. With a baby.
They need a home.
She's a good girl. Wants to finish school, go to college, provide for her child.
I mentor her.
God put you on my heart.

There is no room at the inn right now.
I want to help. It must not be me. We will pray.

"Lord, find a home. A godly woman, to love on this woman-child
and her baby.."

"Do you live in Holland? I used to date a woman that lives in Holland. She used to be a golf pro, now she has started a ministry."

Lord, You are here. We were talking about trick or treaters? This supplier, who stops in randomly to check inventory. On his way out, just making conversation.... 

"She isn't home very often. She is considering a room mate for the basement of her home. We're not dating any longer. She travels a lot."

Lord, You are here. I can think only of her. I have no idea why he is telling me all of this because he doesn't know our prayer, this woman-child's need for a home. My heart is pounding. There are God moments and there is God Present. You are here, in this moment. 

"I have a friend. She mentors a young girl with a baby. They need a home. They need a home in Holland. They need a godly woman to love on them. It's not me. We've been praying, and now, on your way out the door, leaving your work day, you tell me about a woman you stopped dating a couple weeks ago in the middle of a conversation about trick or treaters last night." God is here. "I am with you..."

"Can I call her? What is her name?"

"I will call her. You pray."

Yes, we will pray. "Have a good weekend. Let me know if we can contact her."
"I will. You pray."

Lord Jesus, You are with me. In this moment. This is not head knowledge. My heart is aching. Ready to burst wide open. Lord, hear our prayer. Provide. Love. And a home, for a young girl chasing after You.  

Psalm 37:3-5 Trust in the LORD and do good; Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness. Delight yourself in the LORD; And He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD,
Trust also in Him, and He will do it.

Kiss the Rain

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=so6ExplQlaY

Thank you, Heavenly Father, for the gift of beautiful music. This must be just a glimpse of
what we will hear when we see you face to face.

Vintage Lace

 

I absolutely love vintage white lace...The fresh,clean, white cotton, and lacey patterns draw me to it everytime.  As, I was ironing this beautiful oval tablecloth, preparing it to sell at Cozy Cottage Blessings, I would notice every once a while, a tiny stain where someone had accidentally dropped something .

 

Oh well, I thought, I love it anyway.

I overlooked it, of course, because compared to the graceful, elegant fabric, the stains were practically invisible, especially if you chose not to see them. It caused me to think about how Jesus sees me because of the Cross.  Sparkling clean and white, free of stains and wrinkles. Beautiful. 

 

It took a long time, a lot of hard work and patience to iron out all of those wrinkles, especially in the lace, and, no matter how many times I went over it, as I moved it along on the ironing board to the next section, the wrinkles would very subtly show themselves, and the tiny stains had not come clean either.

 

God has been working on me a long time. And sometimes the iron has been so hot...but, He just keeps gently pressing and looking the other way. He's like that, you know. It doesn't matter the size of my stains or the depth of my wrinkles, He just sees me as He sees His Son, through the eyes of grace.

 

Beautiful.

 

 

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. 2Cor. 4:8-11 

"I think I'll take this painting class!"

Just a word of advice, (even though it turned out to be one of the most memorable times ever!) you may want to investigate a little before registering and paying for something, for example,like where, exactly, the place is located? When it says "North Michigan", that doesn't necessarily mean Traverse City, somewhere south of the bridge... it might actually mean, "almost to Copper Harbor"!

You see on the left of the "finger" shaped part, where it says, McLain State Park. Now, look in the middle of the "finger", that's Lake Linden. McLain is the park where I camped, and the painting class was in the town of Lake Linden, just a few hours from home! lol

So, if you're wondering what sort of painting class could possibly be worth taking a vacation for, check out Heather Anderson's blog, www.postroadvintage.com  and you will get a glimpse of just how worth it it was to go a few miles out of the way! Below are a few pics of the painting class at Heather's last Saturday! I had an amazing time with her and her family and friends! Hoping to make it again next summer!

     The shelf and coat rack was a project we all made and learned the different techniques and types of paint for repurposing small projects and/or furniture. There was also a pile of scrap barn wood for everyone to get creative with, and we were encouraged to bring our own pieces as well. Which, of course, I have a few of!

             

The window is one of the pieces that I brought along. It is the protype of a new ministry I am starting in hopes of raising the funds needed for a child to have a second chance, and to have her life restored, at Abba's House www.abbashousetc.com.

Abba’s House is a center of mercy and refuge, a safe place for young adults and families to be healed and restored.

My trip to Ghana a few years ago, opened my eyes to the reality of child sex traffiking under the guise of a religious curse. But, here in the United States, and even right here in West Michigan, it is not about a cultural religious belief, it's about horrific abuse and broken families.  After learning about Abba's House, and the impact the Lord is having in the lives of these traumaticly troubled young girls and boys, God put on my heart the idea of  "Windows of Hope". (more to come in my next blog)

There may have been a few garage sales along the way!!

Manistique Lighthouse

 

If you are receiving this in your email and you want to see the pics on the blog, you can go to www.everywhereGrace263.blogspot.com

Thanks for following!