I have an image of a gray ashen heart, blackish-red coals lumped about. I ask for your joy, for your cleansing with my arms outstretched, but I can't lift my hands high enough when I'm reaching for you my God. Out of brilliant light comes a downpour of your Spirit in the form of pure and radiant snowflakes. They fall in a blizzard as your grace covering me and my ashen heart turns to white. The ash turns to joy and it escapes, flowing from my mouth as beautiful butterflies, full of color and delicacy. They flow from my mouth as a song of praise, surrounded by radiant flowers, exotic, more beautiful than any I've ever seen. As they rise to you, through the brilliant light I see a flawless hand reach down, open palmed to receive it as an offering. My soul sing, how I love you for your cleansing flood of grace!
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
A Perfect Day.
Sometimes I forget just how much God longs to spend quality time with his Beloved. Isaiah 62:5 says "As a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you." I love how the Lord helps me understand his love better through life experiences that I can envision. Have you ever thought about what type of one-on-one time God desires to spend with you?
Imagine a brisk spring day. The sun fights its way through dreary clouds, which threaten to elicit an intense downpour at any given moment. Every once in a while a brief wind creeps up unexpectedly. The unpredictable weather doesn't bother you, though. Nothing could possibly ruin the delight of being alone with your Beloved. It's a day for adventure, just you and your Beloved. You're not sure exactly where the road will take you, but you find peace knowing you're going somewhere together. Better yet, you're going on the path that your Beloved leads you down. You can't help but smile every time He looks at you. A supernatural warmth surges through your limbs and you shiver, blaming it on the wind. "I love you," He says. You hardly believe Him, but you know it's true; He has shown His unconditional love through so many sacrifices and acts of service that you can't help but desire to shower Him with the same love.
After many impromptu decisions, all with predestined outcomes, you arrive at a quiet park. The ancient cottonwood trees tower overhead, leaves rustling as they sway in the breeze. If you pay careful attention, you can watch the chipmunks scurry through the green grass to their bunkers. Your beloved takes you by the hand and leads you down a trail that parallels a gently flowing river. Together, you have not a care in the world. The hardships of life fade away in His presence. You feel you could spend hours strolling hand-in-hand, stopping every few minutes to look into His eyes and see that yes, He does, in fact, think the world of you.
"You're beautiful," He says. The smile that has been glued on your face all day turns to a confused frown. You look around at all the beauty His Father created and wonder how He could possible be putting you above it. "More beautiful than the sun," He assures you, with complete sincerity. How is it that the One who brings intense calm over your complicated soul finds you stunning? You can't understand it. Someone so perfect can look passed the scum of your life, your blemishes and disfiguration, and see beauty. That is the love of your Beloved.
The path continues through the woods accompanied by the sound of the river lapping up against the shore. Sheer bliss rushes through your heart just to be close to your Beloved. He leads you to a bench, hidden from the chaos of the world around you. You sit and talk about all things under the sun, carefree and open, feeling an unshakable security in His arms. "I could talk to you for hours," He whispers softly in your ear. To hear your Beloved desire to know the inner workings of your mind and heart brings you more comfort than ever. You soak in every minute spent with Him, knowing that this is the type of unity God intended you to have with your Beloved. If only we took time every day to sit in the presence of the One who loves us, enjoying His company, exposing vulnerability, and basking in His love.
This is the type of joy God desires us to experience... joy that comes from accepting the grace and love of His Beloved. Joy that comes from embracing your identity as the Beloved of the One who covers all.
Imagine a brisk spring day. The sun fights its way through dreary clouds, which threaten to elicit an intense downpour at any given moment. Every once in a while a brief wind creeps up unexpectedly. The unpredictable weather doesn't bother you, though. Nothing could possibly ruin the delight of being alone with your Beloved. It's a day for adventure, just you and your Beloved. You're not sure exactly where the road will take you, but you find peace knowing you're going somewhere together. Better yet, you're going on the path that your Beloved leads you down. You can't help but smile every time He looks at you. A supernatural warmth surges through your limbs and you shiver, blaming it on the wind. "I love you," He says. You hardly believe Him, but you know it's true; He has shown His unconditional love through so many sacrifices and acts of service that you can't help but desire to shower Him with the same love.
After many impromptu decisions, all with predestined outcomes, you arrive at a quiet park. The ancient cottonwood trees tower overhead, leaves rustling as they sway in the breeze. If you pay careful attention, you can watch the chipmunks scurry through the green grass to their bunkers. Your beloved takes you by the hand and leads you down a trail that parallels a gently flowing river. Together, you have not a care in the world. The hardships of life fade away in His presence. You feel you could spend hours strolling hand-in-hand, stopping every few minutes to look into His eyes and see that yes, He does, in fact, think the world of you.
"You're beautiful," He says. The smile that has been glued on your face all day turns to a confused frown. You look around at all the beauty His Father created and wonder how He could possible be putting you above it. "More beautiful than the sun," He assures you, with complete sincerity. How is it that the One who brings intense calm over your complicated soul finds you stunning? You can't understand it. Someone so perfect can look passed the scum of your life, your blemishes and disfiguration, and see beauty. That is the love of your Beloved.
The path continues through the woods accompanied by the sound of the river lapping up against the shore. Sheer bliss rushes through your heart just to be close to your Beloved. He leads you to a bench, hidden from the chaos of the world around you. You sit and talk about all things under the sun, carefree and open, feeling an unshakable security in His arms. "I could talk to you for hours," He whispers softly in your ear. To hear your Beloved desire to know the inner workings of your mind and heart brings you more comfort than ever. You soak in every minute spent with Him, knowing that this is the type of unity God intended you to have with your Beloved. If only we took time every day to sit in the presence of the One who loves us, enjoying His company, exposing vulnerability, and basking in His love.
This is the type of joy God desires us to experience... joy that comes from accepting the grace and love of His Beloved. Joy that comes from embracing your identity as the Beloved of the One who covers all.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
"You complete me."
The quote is from Ice Age, and is the common saying of the wonderful, the amazing, the one-and-only Ashlie Mae Keimig. There's a lot of situations I could apply to that statement, but in this post, we're going shallow... the loveseat and chair complete the newly purchased sofa!
For those of you who don't know, my parents offered to buy us a couch back in September. Well, being the ridiculously frugal and picky people that we are, it took us 7 1/2 months to decide on which one to purchase. On Wednesday we finally landed on this Pompeii-Natuzzi, dark brown ("llama" to be official) Italisofa from The Inkwell. It was on a close-out sale and we got a killer deal for my parents.
Well of course, I am never content (it's something I need to work on), and when I saw the WHOLE set, I wanted it. We wrestled with the best option, whether or not to purchase it and eventually (3 days later) decided to go ahead and get it. So now, our little living room is all set and the sofa is happy with it's friendly counterparts. You complete me.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
C.M.
I just needed to take a moment to tell everyone something... I absolutely adore these people! Josh & Krissa Dorfner are amazing, wonderful people and I love them so much. They bring wonderful joy to my life. Okay, now I'm done saying "they". Yes, I love Joshy very much, but really, I just want everyone to know how much I love the lovely lady in this picture! (I'm cut and dry, brutally honest)... So, Josh, enough about you...... Krissa Jeanne Stephens Dorfner. Cookie Monster. My best friend. Going on 12 years of friendship. Sisterhood. She's been with me through thick and thin, and taught me so much about life and God's love and grace. I had the immense privilege to be used by the Lord to tell her about His salvation in 2002, 8 years ago.... I'm so happy she let me be part of her decision to follow Christ, and allowed me to help baptize her. She reminds me everyday of the power of prayer. When I cry, she cries with me and then makes me laugh. She rejoices with me when I'm happy, and always brings me back to reality. Honesty is always in her words. Basically, I just really love this girl to death! And I thought everyone should know. Enough Said.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
The Wonderful Cross
Candy. For children especially, that's the first that comes to mind when they hear "Easter". The "Easter Bunny" (usually grandma) gives a basket full of fake grass and plastic eggs that contain chocolate, jelly beans, cheap toys, and marshmallow chicks. After church, there's always a big Easter Egg Hunt where some kids feel left out because they didn't find the golden egg. And then everyone sits down and eats lots of food... usually some deviled eggs and ham are involved. Thus concludes Easter in the average American home.
I don't want to lose sight of what this day is really about. It's easy to get caught up in even the simplest parts... I treasure the family time, and definitely enjoy all the good food. But, why exactly do we celebrate? Is it because of the candy? The Bunny? The eggs? No. We celebrate because one Man took the weight of the world on His shoulders. How deep the Father's love for us, that He would allow His only Son to die. And He didn't die just any death. Can you imagine bearing a cross? Christ carried His on His bleeding back, up a hill to the spot where he would die. For you, for me. Can you imagine having a rod driven through your arms and your legs, attaching you to that cross? Christ bore the pain. For you, for me. He died, hanging on that cross, suffocating because it hurt too much to push himself up to fill his lungs with air. And when He died, everything was shaken... it changed, for you, for me. And the most amazing part - He rose again! On that first Easter Sunday, Christ was resurrected from the dead, and gave us the promise of freedom that came from His dying breath. How amazing, how wonderful the Cross of my Savior.
I don't want to lose sight of what this day is really about. It's easy to get caught up in even the simplest parts... I treasure the family time, and definitely enjoy all the good food. But, why exactly do we celebrate? Is it because of the candy? The Bunny? The eggs? No. We celebrate because one Man took the weight of the world on His shoulders. How deep the Father's love for us, that He would allow His only Son to die. And He didn't die just any death. Can you imagine bearing a cross? Christ carried His on His bleeding back, up a hill to the spot where he would die. For you, for me. Can you imagine having a rod driven through your arms and your legs, attaching you to that cross? Christ bore the pain. For you, for me. He died, hanging on that cross, suffocating because it hurt too much to push himself up to fill his lungs with air. And when He died, everything was shaken... it changed, for you, for me. And the most amazing part - He rose again! On that first Easter Sunday, Christ was resurrected from the dead, and gave us the promise of freedom that came from His dying breath. How amazing, how wonderful the Cross of my Savior.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Letting Go.
Church was incredible this morning; Pastor Rob felt led to have the whole service be worship and prayer instead of teaching what he had prepped. I had the Lord give me to images that really tugged on my heart....
I'm on a dusty plateau holding a thick boating rope. The rope trails down over the edge of the cliff and halfway down is a net containing my life. I hold onto the rope for dear life, but I can only feel the net's weight slipping away. My hands are red with rope burn, my shoulders and legs shake with muscle strain. I desperately want to hold onto my net, to keep it from crashing to the earth below. Behind me, where the dust meets the pine trees, I hear God's voice. Calm. Let go. Come to me... walk with me in the woods. Let your net go; trust me.
I'm scared. The net contains all of who I am. How does He know it will be okay? Everything will shatter when it falls. Trust me. Let go, my Beloved.
The rope is slipping out of my sweaty palms. I can't hold on any longer. I cry out in exhaustion and frustration, but His voice covers my cry: Come to me! Let me show you. Let go, Mikaela. Let go. I listen, eyes shut tight, I release my weary grip and turn, running with all I have left to His embrace. Safe in His arms. I am able to rest and be freed from the worry of what happened to my net. He supports me and leads us through the woods down a gently sloping path. As we walk, He breaks off an aloe plant and rubs its slave on my burnt hands. Immediate relief. The further we walk, the more my net fades from my thoughts. He hums softly a love song. The path winds along His stream until we are in a clearing at the bottom of a towering cliff. I realize we are where my net should have fallen. I begin to fear of its shattered contents, but He wraps His strong arm across my shoulder and points. There is an empty net, the rope coiled about it. Empty? He redirects my attention and I see elgantly wrapped presents at the base of the cliff. For you, my darling. Trust me with them. Enjoy them. This is your life - open them. For you, my darling. My life restored... unwrapped, not trapped in a net, not covered with dust, not shattered to pieces. Restored.
A knot. Complete tangle of string. I keep trying to pick it apart, but the more I try, the more damage I do. I see His hands... one reaches out to me, asking for the mess. The other holds a pair of scissors. He's going to cut my life apart? I don't want it to go to pieces... Trust me, He says. Eyes shut tight, I timidly hold the knot out to Him. He takes it gently and all I can hear is the sound of His sharp scissors snipping. What have I done? I open my eyes and see my string in a million little pieces, but the knot is gone. And then, like a magician, He gathers all the pieces in His hands, rolls them together, and pulls out the long smooth strand. Restored.
I'm on a dusty plateau holding a thick boating rope. The rope trails down over the edge of the cliff and halfway down is a net containing my life. I hold onto the rope for dear life, but I can only feel the net's weight slipping away. My hands are red with rope burn, my shoulders and legs shake with muscle strain. I desperately want to hold onto my net, to keep it from crashing to the earth below. Behind me, where the dust meets the pine trees, I hear God's voice. Calm. Let go. Come to me... walk with me in the woods. Let your net go; trust me.
I'm scared. The net contains all of who I am. How does He know it will be okay? Everything will shatter when it falls. Trust me. Let go, my Beloved.
The rope is slipping out of my sweaty palms. I can't hold on any longer. I cry out in exhaustion and frustration, but His voice covers my cry: Come to me! Let me show you. Let go, Mikaela. Let go. I listen, eyes shut tight, I release my weary grip and turn, running with all I have left to His embrace. Safe in His arms. I am able to rest and be freed from the worry of what happened to my net. He supports me and leads us through the woods down a gently sloping path. As we walk, He breaks off an aloe plant and rubs its slave on my burnt hands. Immediate relief. The further we walk, the more my net fades from my thoughts. He hums softly a love song. The path winds along His stream until we are in a clearing at the bottom of a towering cliff. I realize we are where my net should have fallen. I begin to fear of its shattered contents, but He wraps His strong arm across my shoulder and points. There is an empty net, the rope coiled about it. Empty? He redirects my attention and I see elgantly wrapped presents at the base of the cliff. For you, my darling. Trust me with them. Enjoy them. This is your life - open them. For you, my darling. My life restored... unwrapped, not trapped in a net, not covered with dust, not shattered to pieces. Restored.
A knot. Complete tangle of string. I keep trying to pick it apart, but the more I try, the more damage I do. I see His hands... one reaches out to me, asking for the mess. The other holds a pair of scissors. He's going to cut my life apart? I don't want it to go to pieces... Trust me, He says. Eyes shut tight, I timidly hold the knot out to Him. He takes it gently and all I can hear is the sound of His sharp scissors snipping. What have I done? I open my eyes and see my string in a million little pieces, but the knot is gone. And then, like a magician, He gathers all the pieces in His hands, rolls them together, and pulls out the long smooth strand. Restored.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
It eats away...
My prayers are with my best friend's family today... Grandpa Olson passed away last night after a battle with cancer. We thank the Lord that he no longer suffers, but grief is never easy.
I only meant Grandpa twice. The first time was about 6 years ago; Krissa invited me to join the family for a vacation to Ontario, Oregon to visit her grandparents. For those of you who don't know where Ontario is, it sits right on the Snake River across from Boise. Her grandparents house sat on a quiet little street with lots of space.... They made such a peaceful escape for us... Her grandfather was a master artist in woodwork, stained glass, and landscaping. I wish I had a photo of him, but this is Krissa and me (and Abby) enjoying his creations outside the house.
I don't know much about grandpa besides that he was a retired military man who loved his family.. a quiet spirit in my mind. I can only sympathize with the pain of loss but also rejoice in knowing he is at peace rather than misery.
The Lord has been reminding me lately of how short this life is. I'm currently in the book of Ecclesiastes, which is all about how meaningless life is. Solomon, believed to be the wisest man ever to live, found that after all his wisdom, all his wealth and riches, still life was empty. He kept searching for fulfillment and came up short. "For who knows what is good for a man in life, during the few and meaningless days he passes through like a shadow? Who can tell him what will happen under the sun after he is gone?... death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart." (Ecc. 6:12, 7:2)
Death hurts. Each time it comes and swallows up a loved one I am reminded of its sting. We lost Mac's grandfather in December, and I am reminded yet again of the ache that constricts my chest. When there is nothing you can do to bring them back. Nothing you can say to make the ones that were closest to them stop hurting. Death is ugly.
But God's grace is beautiful. I'm so thankful for the sermon on Sunday, the consistency of my quiet times, the conversations I've had lately, and even the recent passing of loved ones. God intended us to enjoy His creation and that which he gave us while having a vision of eternity. He has a way of speaking through every possible vessel around me, whether it be my husband who exercises outstanding patience with me, my grandma who loves to just spend a minute with me, a co-worker who sees the best in me, or a best friend who helps me through the difficult times... all conversations remind me that this life is full of His beautiful grace and love.
Our family friend passed away almost 2 years ago this April and I will never forget the last moment I spent with him. He gave me this little card that had a picture of St. Francis of Assissi on one side and his prayer on the other. He told me to make it my life goal, just as he has. Well, Superman, you succeeded - your life has touched so many...
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury,pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen
I only meant Grandpa twice. The first time was about 6 years ago; Krissa invited me to join the family for a vacation to Ontario, Oregon to visit her grandparents. For those of you who don't know where Ontario is, it sits right on the Snake River across from Boise. Her grandparents house sat on a quiet little street with lots of space.... They made such a peaceful escape for us... Her grandfather was a master artist in woodwork, stained glass, and landscaping. I wish I had a photo of him, but this is Krissa and me (and Abby) enjoying his creations outside the house.
I don't know much about grandpa besides that he was a retired military man who loved his family.. a quiet spirit in my mind. I can only sympathize with the pain of loss but also rejoice in knowing he is at peace rather than misery.The Lord has been reminding me lately of how short this life is. I'm currently in the book of Ecclesiastes, which is all about how meaningless life is. Solomon, believed to be the wisest man ever to live, found that after all his wisdom, all his wealth and riches, still life was empty. He kept searching for fulfillment and came up short. "For who knows what is good for a man in life, during the few and meaningless days he passes through like a shadow? Who can tell him what will happen under the sun after he is gone?... death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart." (Ecc. 6:12, 7:2)
Death hurts. Each time it comes and swallows up a loved one I am reminded of its sting. We lost Mac's grandfather in December, and I am reminded yet again of the ache that constricts my chest. When there is nothing you can do to bring them back. Nothing you can say to make the ones that were closest to them stop hurting. Death is ugly.
But God's grace is beautiful. I'm so thankful for the sermon on Sunday, the consistency of my quiet times, the conversations I've had lately, and even the recent passing of loved ones. God intended us to enjoy His creation and that which he gave us while having a vision of eternity. He has a way of speaking through every possible vessel around me, whether it be my husband who exercises outstanding patience with me, my grandma who loves to just spend a minute with me, a co-worker who sees the best in me, or a best friend who helps me through the difficult times... all conversations remind me that this life is full of His beautiful grace and love.
Our family friend passed away almost 2 years ago this April and I will never forget the last moment I spent with him. He gave me this little card that had a picture of St. Francis of Assissi on one side and his prayer on the other. He told me to make it my life goal, just as he has. Well, Superman, you succeeded - your life has touched so many...
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury,pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen
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