What If?

What if we are missing out on the greatest Love of our life? What if we are exchanging the most thrilling adventure for a mulch-piled-high landscaped comfort zone? What if the American dream married our self-sufficient arrogance and produced indulgent-yet-bored offspring. Could it be that we are missing the forest while staring at the trees? Shaking our heads in unbelief simply because it really should depend on us more. If I can’t figure out how to help God run His world. . .then I’ll. . .I’ll just pack up my toys and leave the sandbox.
I recently finished the autobiography of George Muller (the nineteenth century saint who relied solely on God to provide for thousands of orphans) and I was blown away by his story. Correction—I was blown away by the tangible, real answers to prayer that sustained this amazing ministry. Still shaking my head, it was as if God was speaking about prayer every time that Bible was opened. Zechariah and Elizabeth. . .the second Psalm. . .so it got me to thinking. What if God doesn’t need our advice, our input or our solutions to world problems? What if He is simply waiting on His children to give up their own agenda (you know that whole crucified life thing) and take up the work of prayer. What if He simply wants the joy of our company? Don’t get me wrong—I’m not implying that our prayer is what gets God to act according to His will and good purposes. I totally believe that ultimately God’s will in this universe trumps anything else. After all, “the God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else” (Acts 17:24). But, He designed a world in which we “seek Him and perhaps reach out for Him and find him, though He is not far from each one of us” (Acts 17:27). How amazing that God would be pleased to condescend to us in relationship. Yet, we—I mean I, squander that relationship trying to “do great things for God”, when what He really wants is a child who will look up, take His hand and walk with Him. Loving mercy. Doing justice. Walking hand in hand.
So, I think I'm giving up my self-inflated ego fed dreams of what a super star I can be for God. Seems that role is pretty well taken already (I mean have you seen the press some of our "christian leaders" get). Funny really. . . a first century rabbi eventually completely deserted and we have mega church leaders. Go figure. (Digression resolved--back to regularly scheduled blog)
Since I'm pretty anonymous anyway. . .and I really do want to know that I can trust completely. . . what'd ya' say? Wanna walk together prayerfully depending on a God who promises faithfulness. Wanna record that faithfulness--not for our own glory--heaven forbid--(which I'm absolutely sure He does) but for our own children and anyone else who might be encouraged?

What if we decided to make much of God--for the glory of God--by abiding in Jesus through believing prayer--and this for the encouragement and discipleship of others by looking to where Jesus is working and then prayerfully joining? Sounds like I've got myself a mission statement--I do dearly love having it spelled out simply and succintly.

Who's in?

May the road you travel this Holy Week be prayerful,

Joy

My Money

Anyone mesmerized by the 96 million dollar contract Peyton recently signed? I started to write the opening line to this blog with the catchy phrase, "the new Peyton contract got me to thinking about wealth". That's not exactly true. The Words of Jesus have got me thinking about wealth. Remember when He told me that I "needed to get to know Him", well it seems that I have projected some of my lifestyle choices onto "His will for my life". . .don't think it's too pleasing either. If you've read the book Radical by David Platt--well, my guess is you think that it is really, really radical as well. He seems to argue that one day, we as the Church, will look back on our extreme wealth with the same disdain that we viewed historical "christians" who thought it was okay with God for them to own slaves.

It's striking to me that the essence of repentance that John the Baptist preached was to turn from greed. That's so interesting to me, because judging by the majority of sermons I've heard, I always thought repent meant stop drinking, cussing, and smoking. John says, "the one with two shirts must share", "don't take more money than authorized" (Luke 3:9-14). Jesus speaks over and over about greed and money.

I always assume that must mean someone else. After all, I know what we make--and while I know we're blessed--I certainly wouldn't label myself rich. But guess what? If your family income is $35,000, you are wealthier that 82% of the world's population. Check out www.whoarethejones.org

Another assumption that we here in America love to make is that when Jesus confronted the rich young ruler. . .well, we should see that in metaphorical terms. . .after all, Jesus would never ask that of me. I like what one pastor said--those who assume Jesus would never ask that of them, are probably the one's He's asking. Ouch! I sometimes think that we have scared our church leaders off. Why else would we have so few leaders stepping forward to say, "this it how it looks". Here is how much is enough. We have run so far away from being "legalistic"( and for good reason) that we have no clue how to reorient our lives to God. We don't know in a practical sense what to do. I say let some men and women rise to the occasion and dare to lead a generation of wealthy Americans to lay up treasures in heaven. Oh, please no not call me to this, Lord. I'm serious. You know it always hurts worse for those who go first. Sure, now any color woman can sit anywhere on a bus. . .but I promise you this--the cost was greater for Rosa Parks. We need some folks who would dare to look the American "Christian" Church culture in the face and scream--ENOUGH! REPENT! If you have two coats (or twenty-five) share!! If you and your pet live in a two-thousand square foot home either move in a bunch more folks or downsize!!

And don't even get me started on how much we spend on our pets!! Yes, I know. . . they are family! We love them! But in the time it takes me to write this post five children--children created in the very image of Jehovah God--will be dead from preventable causes! The angels weep at our lack of concern for the dying children in the world . . .when we are running around Petco trying to find matching outfits for our cat and our chihuahua.

I want to be very honest about this season of my life with Jesus. It is anything but a feel-good, buddy, buddy relationship right now. He is confronting me with some serious stuff. Like why I tend to be selfish. Is it because I really do want to keep up with the Joneses? I've already established that I am a Jones (see aforementioned website). You probably are as well. That's dispicable if true. Worse yet, I could simply not trust the One who says He is faithful. Do I hoard because I'm afraid Jesus is a liar? He promises that He knows "the number of hairs on my head" and He will care for me. Jesus will not let me get away with living my own plan if I am a follower of His. As Bonhoffer said, "when Jesus calls a man, He bids him come and die". We westerners think its more like, "come to the front, say these words, live anyway you like". And that is a lie straight from the mouth of Satan himself.

So, what to do? I wish I were one of those courageous leaders I was hoping would "rise up". We do have to guard against legalism for sure. But at the expense of obeying the words of the One who calls us to go and spend our lives on behalf of the lost and poor--I think not. I'd love to know what you think. I'm not that brave or bold--but I'm going to start room by room and lay my "stuff" on the altar. I'm going to start by sharing. Lord, have mercy when we get to the homeschool room. Serious. I love my books.

Joy

Burnt Baja Tacos and a War in the Heavenlies

Is it the fate of all newbie bloggers to see life in snapshots to later be developed into the theme of a blog post? Hope it's not just me. Seriously though, life in this crazy household of seven gives too much fodder to ever completely cover in a blog, so I hope we can be friends in real life. Then I can elaborate on all the craziness. Today's particular event however, could not be left un-blogged (hope that's a word) and while I'm not always great at immediately seeing God's lessons painted in obvious strokes on the canvas of these four walls--today--let's just say while it wasn't a pretty picture, I sure didn't miss it.

Actually, I should feel most sorry for our lovely neighbors. Very soon they (our neighbors) will be putting their house on the market to move closer to their grandkids. Who can blame them? My parents swear grand-babies are the joy--great joy and reward for allowing my brother and I to survive into adulthood. I sincerely hope Mr. and Mrs. Neighbor were not looking out the window this morning. My guess is that if they were, they became even more discouraged that the crazy, weird homeschooling family next door--the one with all those kids had finally and once-and-for-all single handedly plummeted neighborhood property values so low that no amount of home improvement could remedy the situation. To their credit, they have done extensive work in the yard. Don't get me wrong, it was gorgeous before--how could it not be--more people work on the man's yard than work on my body, hair, teeth and nails combined. Seriously, I would not be one bit suprised to see a manicurist taking finely sharpened scissors to each individual blade of grass. If their house doesn't sell within 48 hours on the market, it won't be for lack of yard work. Do I seem jealous?

Anyway, I'm sure their hopes of selling quickly were a bit douced this morning when five uniquely dressed (their Daddy dressed them) children went running out the front door with plumes of smoke billowing behind them. One deeply discouraged Momma followed. It all started with the dream of a perfect new delicious recipe that I was just dying to try out on my family. Baja Fish Tacos.

What does this have to do with lessons of faith? I'm convinced that the life of faith was meant to be walked out in daily life. The mundane. . .the monotonous. . .the bored-out-of-my-mind-doing-endless-loads-of-laundry-and-cooking-mac-and-cheese. I don't know about you but I want my family to see Jesus in me even more than the folks I run into on Sunday morning. It might be easy for the Sunday morning crowd to think I'm that nice and friendly all the time. My family knows better. It was to the end of extending them love and mercy that I had prayed to God just a few hours before. Seriously, before I rolled my extra-wide behind out of bed this morning--even before my eyes were fully opened (I'm not a morning person)--I had prayed and asked Jesus to fill me with the power of the Holy Spirit to accomplish a monumental task. You stay-at-home moms know the task to which I'm aspiring. The task of being loving and kind to your own family. It is especially difficult if you have been with your children for over 130 days straight with no break and no end in sight! The last thing--the very last thing-- you feel like doing when they have tracked mud through the house again is to extend mercy. Hence my need for the power of the Holy Spirit.

And it was all going so well. My husband even commented on how nice it was when I woke up in a good mood. So glad he noticed. Confidence in the power of Jesus rising. Then--not one hour later--the flames of hell burst forth. Okay, they weren't really the flames of hell but they were the flames of my oven. Yep, after meticulous preparation--fish broiling, homemade coleslaw prepared, mango salsa waiting. . . I put the taco shells in--and to hurry the process--after all hubs had to leave for work soon--you guessed it. . . Footnote to self---never put taco shells on the top rack with the broiler going. Smoke everywhere. . .I panicked (my tendency in a crisis) and my sweet husband came to rescue us from the arm-length flames bursting from the pan. Let's just say he is all man--and anything that resembles a tool (this time a fire-extinguisher) will be used en force. He not only extinguished the fire coming from the oven--I think he was making sure it didn't extend to both counters. . .and the cabinets. . . and the floor. Never let it be said that my man is not thorough.

While I'm not convinced this was all an elaborate plot of the enemy-- more likely it was my carelessness-- I do think the enemy planned to take my now-disatrous-kitchen coupled with seven grumbly bellies-- and armed with such tools-- the enemy attempted to rob me of the Spirit's power to help me be like Jesus. Extending mercy and kindness when I would rather be shouting for five little people to get out of my hair so I could clean up this mess.

As I sat sulking in the McDonald's parking lot eating my microwaved burger (I only know that McD's no longer fries the burgers in house because my mom, the school-teacher got to volunteer there to raise funds for her school) I sensed that the day could go south very quickly. My son (the one who seriously dislikes new things) had tried earlier to console me with how very much he was looking forward to fish tacos. Those who know the boy are smiling.

Faithful that He is, I was quickly reminded that the Holy Spirit's power is available regardless. We must abide. Release ourselves in trust. A holy sense of humor certainly doesn't hurt, either. While I'm absolutely sure that burnt baja tacos do not in any way compare to what some folks are facing today--my prayer is that "the eyes of our heart may be enlightened in order that we may know the hope to which he has called us, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and His incomparably great power for us who believe"(Eph 1:18-19) A power that proves "this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed. . ." (2Cor 4:7-8)

Friends, one thing I know--if my children and husband see Jesus in me--if they ever, at all see Jesus in me--it will be the Spirit's work. Left to myself I am one grouchy, short-tempered woman. I must go now and clean up the layers of extinguisher dust covering my kitchen. Come to think of it--perhaps, the portrait He's painting is lovely simply because it is His and it is not yet complete.

May your day be filled with wonderfully prepared homemade meals,

Joy

The Jesus I Never Knew

Recently, when Jesus whispered to my heart, "you need to get to know Me" I was a bit taken back, as (a) that wasn't the question I had just posed and (b) why would I need to get to know You, I've accepted Your salvation and I've been learning about You since--well, a long time (and those of you who were also at church every time the doors swung open can relate). It occurs to me that one reason I need to get to know the true, Biblical Jesus is because I seem to have taken the "Sunday school version" into my adult life. Not that there is anything wrong with that--I don't begin to know where I'd be without the foundation I gained at FPC Sweetwater, TN. Just this morning, I was cleaning my windows and the vinegar smell took my mind floating back to the days of my beloved Christian Daycare Center. Sadly though, I think that perhaps the true Jesus may have been softened there to protect me. I get that. I totally skip over periods in history (or at least gloss them over) so that my very sensitive ten-year-old's heart can be protected. I know, I know. . .parts of history are horrific. I should teach the truth. Yes, but for a bit I'd like to keep her heart innocent and carefree. The hard stuff will come.

Which takes me to the point. I have always just thought of Jesus as "sweet". I mean isn't that the picture our minds pose at the words "meek and gentle of Spirit"? I, for one, must not have a proper framework for meek because the Jesus I have encountered these past few days on the pages of Scripture is anything but "sweet" (at least the way my mind contrived the word).

Jesus comes on the scene and to say the Messiah is not what anyone expected would be a gross understatement. We know that Jesus was at odds with the Pharisees and ruling Jewish establishment but check out Luke 6:6-11. Seems He has went from "at odds" to exceedingly upset. Jesus essentially gets up in front of a large crowd at the synagogue and calls out all of the leaders for how they are twisting the law to prevent someone from being healed. So I ask you --and me--when was the last time we saw a group of lead pastors get called out in front of a church for not doing what was right in the eyes of our Father. Do you think Jesus would ever approve of a "church" budget that gave more to self-serving programs to benefit the rich (that's us) than to feeding our brothers and sisters who are starving.? Yeah, me either. The tragic part is we don't have enough of the passion of Jesus or the fear of the Lord to have the courage to do what He did and challenge the status quo. At least I don't.

He seemed to have an affinity for upsetting the establishment, didn't He? Calling a tax collector. This was a hard concept for me to "get" because, quite frankly, I am a spoiled American middle-class woman. I've never lived under the oppression of occupation. I've never seen one of my fellow Americans take my hard earned money and give it to the enemy-- my oppressor. So, this one slipped by me. But can you imagine what it was like for Jews to watch their fellow countrymen take money from their poor to line the pockets of the indulgent, bloated Romans? Then, this traitor gets called to be a follower of the Messiah--a disciple. Really? God must indeed look on the heart cause this seems nuts to me.

Lest you think Jesus was only ticked with those who should have been helping to remove the burdens from His people, Jesus seemed to have a "word" for His followers as well. You know the whole Sermon on the Mount. . .love your enemy, bless those who curse you, turn the other cheek. Yeah, that sorta slipped by me as well. My rationalization usually went something like this, " Lord I'll be nice to those who don't like me, but quite frankly I can't imagine who that might be--I am, after all, extremely likable!" However, the Jews, who--just like today--had their fair share of enemies might've been thinking, " let's get this straight--Jesus expects me to begin reciting blessings over the Romans--the very barbarians who are crucifing our people on the side of these dusty Palestinian roads". If a Roman centurion strikes me, I am to turn and let him strike the other side of my head? Then Jesus goes further and takes the blessing of God-- the "year of the Lord's favor" and bestows it on a centurion's servant --pausing only long enough to commend the warrior's faith--to His followers--the "chosen of God". (See Luke 7:1-10) I can't even get my mind around it. Sorta be like asking the church to speak down blessing on abortion doctors and terrorists and queers. Or like commending the faith of a drug smuggler. Exactly when was the last time you saw a fancy-schmancy church goer bend down and apply salve to the wound of someone dying of AIDS or journey to the "hood" to love on those who believe their worth is found in the loot they are acquiring from running those drugs? Yeah, I'm too afraid as well.

Jesus was so radical and worked so counter to anyone's expectation that even John the Baptist--forerunner to the Messiah--sent his disciples to double check that Jesus was indeed who He said He was. After all, seems to me that the Messiah was gonna be the one to restore Israel to her former glory. How in the world was the glory of God going to shine on His people if they were blessing, serving and loving the enemy? Got me.

The only thing that makes sense so far to me is after one particularly hard teaching John records the following, "From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed Him" (John 6:66). My guess is I would've ran for my life long before that encounter.

I wonder if we have so tamed the Lion of Judah in our minds, in our churches, in our homes that it is easy to follow Him. Seems pretty easy to me. Yet for those who actually heard Him speak, felt His embrace, touched His wounds--it was anything but easy. If our version of the "crucified life" seems simple and appealing to the masses we might want to pull out the gospels and meet the Jesus we never knew.

He is scaring the life outta me--

Joy

Of Marx and Me

Scanning The Communist Manifesto this morning I was suddenly struck by the thought that Karl Marx produced one of his most famous works out of struggling with an age old question about God. At least this is my theory. He may not have framed it in his mind in those terms but tell me what you think. Isn’t the quintessential human struggle with a simple question about the nature and character of God? One doesn’t even have to be a believer of anything to struggle with this question. Athiests just frame the debate a bit differently. But if your feet walk the dusty roads of earth very long one question is bound to surface. It goes something like this, “if God is good, then why did __________happen?” If you happen to fall into the minority of those who claim to believe nothing (which is a discussion of which I shall not attempt today) then there is no framework for claiming order and therefore the word “good” might be a bit arbitrary. But for most of us, who claim to believe something/Someone is ultimately in charge of the universe and beyond-- sooner or later-- we are going to grapple with the “why question”. Job did. The disciples questioned. I have. Maybe you have as well. Seems only those who reside in the heavenlies don’t struggle the way we do. Maybe therein lies the answer. Maybe part of the reason our ‘whys’ often go unanswered is that we simply can’t see with these “fallen eyes”. Our egos have convinced us that the truth of the Bible which claims that God's thoughts are not like our thoughts and His ways unlike ours--indeed worlds apart they are (Isaiah 55:8)--is somehow untrue. Surely, we reason, I could do this better than God. I've certainly voiced the doubt. I've even said that I would definitely do things differently, given the chance. . . which hasn't happened and that alone is enough for a thank offering.

I’ll admit I was a bit condescending when I was looking over Marx’s work. I didn’t read it very closely, mind you. But I did judge the man. Thought about making him and his philosophies the “enemy”. I do that sometimes before the Holy Spirit whispers into my soul-- reminding me that I am just like those I judge. Then I feel a kinship to them. I ache for them, like I’ve ached in my own struggles. You see, this morning it occurred to me that Karl Marx was the son of parents who had converted to Lutheranism. I'm thinking that surely he was at least briefly familiar with the God they worshipped. Perhaps, he had heard his parents speak of the “Sovereignty of God”. I’m sure his parents would have worshipped and praised the God who is “good all the time”. . . “Yes, oh yes he is a friend of mine”. . . wait that was a jingle that ran through my mind, of which I’m sure Marx had never heard. That alone would have made him bitter. Kidding. Major digression. Yet, when Marx and his family lived in London later in his life—he lived in abject poverty. In fact, his friend and later the one who helped him pen the works for which he is famous, Friedrich Engels, gave his family money so that they could survive (A World of Ideas, pp. 219). Perhaps this is a bit simplistic, but do you think it is possible that Marx was so hurt by the thought of a good God allowing him and his family to suffer-- so much so-- that he concluded that a good God--maybe even a God at all-- was simply untrue? I've thought it before. How could a truly good God allow . . .(fill in current world atrocity). Therefore, with a mind as brilliant as his, he formulated a way for the government to keep the atrocities that he was staring at each day from happening to others. The idea was noble even if it proved impractical. I am tearing up at the thought. Not at the thought of communism-- I’m not arguing whether there is more merit to capitalism, communism, socialism or feudalism (smile). I’m simply hurting for a man who had struggled with our common humanity. I have been there, and my guess is you have, too.
My confession is that I sat smugly at the end of my bed with book in hand and thought, “Oh, if he had just leaned in and listened for God, perhaps he could have moved from the why questions to relationship then to redemption. . . Yes, my own smugly pious thoughts nauseate me as well. It was a condescending thought. And faithful that He is, the Holy Spirit whispered to my soul, “so Joy how well did you 'lean in and listen' during your seasons of deep pain?” Uh. . .ahem. I fell flat on my face. Hard. Embarrassingly hard. I couldn’t “lean in and listen”, to quote myself; because I was too busy flailing my arms amid a fit that would have rivaled a three-year-old. Seriously. Just.ask.my.mother. Better yet, just take my word for it. It has taken a while to even believe—wait, I don’t believe it yet—to consider, yes that’s where I am—that what I thought surely God meant for my harm, in fact He meant for good. In ways I don’t yet even know. Okay, I’m not going to cry.
My thought is that Karl and I might have a lot in common. Okay, not so much. He was after all brilliant. I sorta border right at or below average. He actually came up with a Manifesto to “help God out” in running the universe. All I can come up with is a red-face, snotty-nose and accusations about why God is not doing exactly what I want. But we both, along with everyone else, will feel pain. Of course, our struggles will vary in intensity throughout our live—but if we live—we will have trouble. Jesus said so. I so wish Marx would’ve had men and women in his life who deeply knew God, who knew His Son. The very God-man who tasted and felt all of our struggles—and then offered us peace. I wish he could have had someone to hold his hand and walk with him through those seasons of pain until he could get to the other side--- farther along down the road—far enough to look back and at least consider that what he was sure God had meant to be his undoing was actually the mercy, grace and Love of God. I wish the same thing for myself. Wait! It occurs to me that the Bible speaks to this when it talks about God giving us comfort so that we can give comfort to others when they struggle. “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God” (2Cor 1:3-4).
Friends, this is why the Body of Christ is so important. We are essential in each others’ lives. You have a role to play in comforting, encouraging and spurring me along. And I, you.
Talk to me,
Joy

Our Conundrum

A conundrum--a riddle or play on words--and while the following isn't exactly a conundrum it was fun watching the puzzled looks on my childrens' faces. Mainly, on the ten-year-old's face as the others got frustrated and moved on. (They are, after all, only seven and five.) More confusion followed but that is to be expected when trying to explain the complexities of our God using only words. Or body language. Or wild, fanciful gestures. Nothing captures His God-ness. Nothing. But I wrote these two lines on the board anyway:

You were created by God, for God, to do the work of God.

Only God can do the work of God. (writing of Jonathon Edwards during the Great Awakening)

"How children, can both of these statements be true?" I ask.

The answer, I got to explain in words that they did not fully understand-- The Holy Spirit.

What am I saying, I don't even fully understand. But the following words by Francis Chan about had me undone this morning as I sat in my rocker warming my legs before the fire (nevermind its gonna be 63 degrees today--a fire makes me think better):

Jesus refers to the Holy Spirit as the "Helper" or "Comforter." Let me ask you a simple question: Why would we need to experience the "Comforter" if our lives are already comfortable? (Forgotten God, p. 107)

Uh, is all I can say--then blankly stare at the fire. All this time I have worked and prayed so desperately hard that my life would be pain free, stress free, worry free--comfortable. You mean, Lord that might not be "your will for my life"?

Joy

Are You Living the Christian Life On Your Own? Don't Even Try!

God has been impressing on me two words over the past couple of days---Holy Spirit---and so questions seem to flow much more rapidly than at times I could write them down. Questions such as:

If the Holy Spirit is central to our life in Christ, why do I know so little about Him?

Why does the church so often teach so little about Him?

If, according to Jesus, "we can do nothing apart from Him", why are we more diligent to teach our children rules/behaviors than we are to help them recognize the Spirit and "keep in step" with Him, as Paul urged the Galatians?

Then it occured to me as I was listening to a God-ordained-for-me-at-this-moment message from David Platt. . .the grand ephiphany--I could fall into the same category as the Israelites and live my entire "Christian life" apart from the power and Presence of God. Seriously, you ask? How much of my life--either at home, school, work, etc. do I need and rely on God. Probably very little. I don't pray "give me this day, my daily bread"--I've got cabinets full. I even have a five, ten, (gasp) fifteen year plan. I could fool everyone into thinking I am this "good little (uh, medium to large) Christian" (whatever that is). . .especially given we don't have much company. I have substituted the blessings of God for the Presence and power and fruit of His Spirit and I am dumb enough to pause. . .much, much later than it would take most people and say. . .something is not right!!!

So, I said to God this very afternoon--that's me--you remember when Moses was saying to God--Exodus 33--if You don't go with us how will we be distinguished from all the other nations. I thought, and said--that's me--without your Presence how will I (or anyone, for that matter) be any different than all the other "christians". (I'm putting that in quotes to refer to the massive amount of people who would label themselves christian with no real thought that it is anything other than a label for those of a Judeo-Western-Culture-American birth).

Seriously, I feel as if I (maybe you feel the same way) have a plan for how things are gonna go and I have given zero real thought to listening to the Holy Spirit much less keeping up with where He leads. Oh, I don't mind asking God to bless my plans, my life--but seriously give God a blank check with my life to do with as He pleases. . .uh, let me think about that. Do I even need to wonder why on earth I am not "doing greater things than this". . . God help me!! GOD HELP ME!!

So, as I'm in this state of "God, help me to know the Presence of Your Spirit in my heart--in my life"--I'll share a couple of hopeful thoughts that He is giving me.

1. God promises that if we ask--He's a good Father and will give us the Holy Spirit. (Luke 11:13)

2. We will know the Spirit's Presence in our lives. (John 14:15-19)

3. We will live lives characterized by the power of God not our ability to figure out a plan. (2Cor.4)

So now, I turn (repent), pray, wait patiently for the Lord. The Celtics used to call this Christian life chasing the wild Goose. . . I hope that characterizes my life of keeping in step with the Spirit. Jonathon Edwards once wrote, "only God can do the work of God"--and I so desperately want to be a vessel.

Love journeying with you,

Joy