Things making me happy....

Friday Felicities...brought to you by the fabulous Nattie Rose...

Things making me happy today

a blue bracelet, that tinks and jingles when it moves--all reminding me of my Beth Moore bible study '' believing God'' and reminding me to pray!

berry.summer.vanilla YUM

preebee feet!

coffee in a most favorite cup

careful with those...you'll put a heart out

words

devoid of strength
and yet
full of power

to say that I am fan of words would be a
huge
understatement.

I have recently had a conversation on FB with a few friends discussing how words effect me/us.

Honestly there is nothing like
words.
well spoken
rightly timed
I love the rhythm of words
the cadence as they fall from lips.

among the many oddities I claim as mine...
i love to watch people talk.
I am not a phone person.
I will talk on the phone
(and I talk to my best friend mer--every.day)
but in general
the phone makes me feel awkward
like I have to fill the silences that occur or something...
I default to email
because it's easier to type it up at will and shoot it off when I can...
texting i enjoy-for a fun quick hi or whatnot...
but my favorite form of communication
is face to face.

I love to watch someone when they talk,
how they cut their eyes,
the way their lips pause and purse before saying...
something...
the flow of the words,
the timbre of the voice,
the nuance of the face...
all meld in my mind.

I love a good conversation...you've had them...you start talking about a most mundane thing ...chase a topic...share a hundred laughs and circle back around to the mundane...

only in that jaunt
something happened
you scattered words into the air
and into someones soul
and you forever are marked with that memory
you can visit it again
and again
and each time smile.

our words
have such power

the Bible speaks of letting your YES mean YES and your NO mean NO
about how every idle word will be accounted for
how a word spoken at the right time brings healing

to think our words are just letters jumbled together, laced with sound, to fill up a void
is a sad mistake

our words
are all we have

what we say
to others
(and to ourselves)
is what we are...

to throw words around
to sling them out
with no thought to where they land and the weight they carry...
sigh.

our words should be deliberate
thought out
backed up
and followed up with actions

we can SAY anything
and it costs us nothing...

and that is just the truth...

but if we say something
and we want it to count for something
we want it to be believed
for more than
empty syllables
filling
space

we have to be willing
to be
what those words
say we are...

we have to risk
not only saying it out loud
but
then
living it out loud too...

or don't bother saying it...
you use words to hurt
and you hurt words use
when you do that

Vera Dico

Perception IS reality

or the one about fun house mirrors and doors and life and lies we tell ourselves...

have you ever been to the fair?
did you do the fun house?
you know, you walk through a maze of rooms and within those room are mirrors to confuse you?
there are all sorts of mirrors
but they all do the same thing
they distort your image.

you may be lean and tall
in one
and yet short and stumpy
in the next

but what changed in all that...

perception

the real you
walked to each mirror
and the image reflected back
wasn't YOU
but it was what you saw...

how many of us
believe the mirrors in our lives?

how is it...
we can know Jesus loves us
accepts us
would move the ends of the earth FOR US

and yet

we believe the false mirrors that are throw up for us to look in each day...

why can't we believe
what is real
instead of what is reflected?

why can't we see
and be
what is real?

why do we let our perceptions
color
our mood
our actions
our security
our belief in what we can do?

step out of the fun house
open the door
walk into the Light

catch a glimpse of your reflection in His eyes

reflection IS reality

Tis the gift to be simple...

Tonight it's drizzled with olive oil
a touch of kosher salt
and coarse black pepper
and roasted to perfection




tomorrow morning
it will be paired with a fresh egg AE collected today on her trip to the chicken pen.
a bit of butter
salt and pepper
for an omelet
divine

Never let it be said there is not beauty in simplicity.
Never mistake many ingredients making something ''more'' special.

Food
much like life
shines
when it's simple and pure
when there is little to hide under sauces and foreign spices.

Savor the flavor.

Bon Appetit :)

Searching for Significance

i have a friend who is a writer...
a very good writer...
a very, very, very, very, very good writer
hee
clearly a better writer than I am
[looks askance at the use of very (like from a 3rd grade book report) up there]

she's taking a break
a sabbatical
why?
because her books aren't profitable-

her passion
her talent
her gifting

---

significance

we all want it.
we want what we do to matter...
we want to count.

we can love our calling
love our lives
love God

but we are way to wrapped up in a body of flesh to not want an ''atta girl'' sometimes.
it's just what it is...

you can go a long time on knowing we are doing what we are called to do
we can humble ourselves and be gracious to be poor but walking in obedience
but then
the day comes
when it doesn't all make sense...
if we are doing what we are called
if we are walking in His path...
why
is
there
no
validation
and honestly
just honestly
there are bills to pay

(and on the broad spectrum, maybe you are not a writer, but the significance is the same...and the bills may not be paper and mail delivered--maybe they are emotional ones...but they are bills just the same...)

It's very churchy and ''Godly'' to say , "rest in Jesus, find your completeness in Him, let Him be your plumb line for success."

but the heart of us, the deepest part of our spirit wants success...
we want to know our passion
touches others

and that applies across the board
vocations
and relationships

we want to matter

and we want to be secure enough to not care
but we aren't

so we just sit there
wanting

and
even though the truth of it IS
in fact that we DO matter
regardless of external show and praise
there is something
magic
special
redeeming
empowering
about
hearing it...
it being solidified

and today I sit there too
i'm not a writer
just a momma
but that ''atta girl'' yearns deep in me.

I want it to all matter.
I want to know it all matters.

Maybe a sabbatical is what we all need,
a rest in the climb [whatever your climb may be]
a goodbye to some expectations and desires...
a shift in focus
until it all becomes clear, again.

sometimes
goodbye is a second chance.

long night

I had two kiddos sick throughout the night...
so this morning felt like it arrived far too quickly...
however,
after a bit of Francis Chan
lots of coffee
and a shower
my
life feels manageable again.

This morning I am thankful and again awed by God's faithfulness to me...
That even when I fail, and fail I do...
that He is still there
loving me.

Have a blessed Sunday!

hold on loosely...

[or finding God in 38 Special]

[ponders how many readers (if I had lots of readers...hee) I would lose for tying God and 38 Special together...]

[oh well, He spoke from a donkey...I figure He can use a little 38 Special]

hi.
my name is cheri
and I am a control freak
ok
maybe not a complete freak
or maybe I am
I just like to know what happens next.
I just do.
I like to feel secure in it...no surprises popping out at the last second.

Why do we think knowing is security?
Sometimes in our quest to KNOW...to secure whatever it is...we lose it
cause we are holding it so
very
tightly.

[this is where 38 Special comes in...hee!]

Hold on loosely, but don't let go

if you cling to tightly, you're gonna lose control

God doesn't promise to tell us what's going to happen...

He promises to be with us WHEN it happens...

Our hurrying around, trying to orchestrate things, getting things in order, making things just so...having a flow chart and time line...

none of that benefits HIM

He already knows.

You know what it does.

It robs US (me!!!!)

of ...

what?

LIFE

It's a trick of Satan. The prince of this world...is out to steal, kill and destroy...Satan LOVES to rob us of ABUNDANT LIFE. So if he can get us fixated on events or things going on...if he can get us distracted into a tizzy trying to FIX AND PLAN and make it all make sense...

then he wins.

We lose sight of ALL THAT WE HAVE...

and what we have ,is the promise of a God that loves us more than anything, that HE is going to take care of us...

provide for us...

be gracious to us...

lavish peace upon us...

shower us with good things...

but we are holding on SO tightly to our agenda...how we want it to work out...

that we lose joy...

we lose today...

we lose laughs...

we lose love...

we lose memories...

hold on loosely

[but cling to Him!]

Until you reach a point of being tired of where you are...
you will be tired
where you are...

(read that again...I'll give you a moment)

tired?
physically
spiritually
emotionally

it's draining
isn't it?

I know.

But He promises

renewal
refreshment
revival
of mind, body and spirit

run to Him.

rest.

holding wishes in her hands

holding wishes in her hands
Originally uploaded by Kudzu and Koolaid

Anna-Elizabeth is four.

Her life is pretty simple. She wakes up grumpy. She talks all.the.time. She loves to ride her bike. She handles every situation with flair (or drama...you know whatever you want to call it) She loves to play dress up...

and make wishes.

Spring has arrived in Georgia and with it the explosion of dandelions abound. The difference in being four and being grown...
when you are grown those yellow pesky 'flowers' represent work and weeding...
when you are four
they represent wishes
unlimited wishes...every yellow petal
will one day become a feather of wish.

My girl runs out EVERYDAY looking for wishes plump for picking.
Everyday, with the the same amount of zeal and happy....she plucks it and with great fanfare says , ''now momma, you make a wish, but don't tell me or it won't come true.''

Our lives are dandelions...
sometimes to others our life may appear weedy and pesky...
but if you know anything,
you know your life is a gift. (even on the worst of occasions and situations)
Given to you by a Father God that loves you more than you can imagine.
When you look at your life that way, when you see it with His eyes.
You realize, each day
is brand new...
and full of wishes
and promises
and possibility.

Today,
make a wish
and
blow!

and hear Him whisper, "for I know the plans I have for you, plans for a future and a hope.''

Indeed!

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a creation of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that others won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine..."

Hi, my name is Cheri-it's nice to meet you.
I am smart.
pretty.
funny.
creative.
compassionate.
faithful
and
worth it.

God says so.

p.s.
you are too!

Be gentle with the broken ones...

Be gentle with the broken ones...
their voices loud
their edges harsh
their hearts-
guarded tenderly

they are independent
oh their armor's strong
surrounded by masses
and yet
alone

isolated
by strength
by fear
they'll tell you it's by choice

they're fine
they're happy
an island
remote

Be gentle with the broken ones
in their pride it's hard to bow
...
they are worth the fight
the gentle war-

be gentle, oh so gentle
soft underbellies exposed
their fight ...against flight
be gentle
hold on...

Remembering...

those that died 15 years ago in Oklahoma City...

also 15 years ago today I got engaged...

the Alfred p Murry building crumbled in a day

my marriage over a series of years...

the children of that tragedy suffer scars and loss...

my children will always carry a brokenness.

Timothy McVeigh planned and executed that demise...

I carry the weight of my own.


Today is a hard day.
and to say otherwise would be a lie.

Speaking the language...

It's Sunday, we're eating lunch and watching Discovery Channel.

It's what dorks do. :)

While watching a program on Chinstrap penguins a fact caught my attention. After the babies are born, there are literally hundreds of penguins squawking wanting their Momma. The noise is deafening and to me was indistinguishable from surrounding squawks.

However, did you know that each family has it's own sound. That Momma penguin tunes an attentive ear and the call, the specific call of her offspring, brings her to them.

Now, isn't that just like God.

among all the squawking
He tunes his ear
and listens
for our call

and He comes to us-
every time.

Selah!

I love the Lord, for He heard my voice; He heard my cry for mercy.

Psalm 116:1

Step outside the box...He's there too

(and other things I'm learning along the way...)

my life has always been pretty tidy...
preacher's kid.
straight laced.
rule follower.

Always weighing choices with consequences,
always thinking of how things reflected on my Dad's vocation,
always considering how my decisions made others think of my God...
always
thinking
pondering
what
others
thought.

Not walking in freedom,
more easily held in chains of do's and do not's.

Having a form of Godliness
but denying the power-
of the liberty of
freedom IN Christ

[and I am in no way saying that grace is there, so sin can abound...don't misread!)

I think there are boundaries,
I think God's Word has rules for living
and I think those rules are for our benefit...
He truly does want us to have LIFE--
he wants our lives to be FULL
FREE
OVERFLOWING
with abundance...

I guess what I am seeing in my own life is the journey is not on course with what I thought ...
my life has taken turns I never (in my do A and B and you get C) imagined it would.
I've had to find God in the middle of all that.
I had Him
in this box
all neat and tidy.
He was fine there, as long as my rules were followed, my 'things' carried out, life following the script...

but what happens when there is a missing page in the play?
what happens when you find yourself
where you never thought you'd be?

did God leave you?
did you leave Him?

or

was He there all along and you just had to see Him...

Contained things are always easy to understand. If you have a box full of Legos, you have chaos controlled.
Pour those babies out and you have a mess.
It's the same mess you had IN the box...only IN the box it appeared organized.

My life was in a box, contained, neat, fixed-- but it was a mess.
It was dumped out and the mess was there for everyone to see.

But the God I held ever so tightly to IN the box, the one that made sense...
I found that HE was holding me
even more tightly
outside the box...

He was in the mess with me...
He was not always making it better,
but making ME better...
He let me rail, whine, cry and ask why...
He let me rant and act ridiculously...
He let me
look for sense in the mess...

He helped me see HIM
in new circumstances,
with new eyes,
in new ways...

because your faith is never stretched so much
as when
you are walking in paths you never imagined...

and it's never restored so much
as when you
you realize (and finally relish the TRUTH of it...)
He loves you, the beautiful mess of dynamic proportions, endlessly.

Who I'm are...

Who I'm are...
Originally uploaded by Kudzu and Koolaid

Funny Photo Friday...

top left to bottom right

Me at 2
2nd grade
4th grade
8th grade (hi ms pirch)
12th grade
22 (my engagement photo and AE declared today, ''how did that happen, I didn't know you could be THAT beautiful.'' ROTFLOL
me in the mighty warrior of the lord mask (hee...32 ish)
34
short haired me @33
and me today

Wasted days, a wasted knight...

I don't remember our first meeting, I just know his family is ingrained in so many of my memories.



I met him when I was six. My Daddy had just taken his first pastorate and we had moved to a new town. His family, along with his grandparents, aunts and uncles all attended our church.



I can close my eyes and I am there. I can see the sparkly ceiling of his grandparents house.



Yes, sparkly ceiling. I was six. You notice things like sparkly ceilings. :)

There is a globe, a big wooden globe, only it's not a globe you open it to find a bar service! (woo...a bar service was quite the sight for a Baptist six year old)

I can see them sitting around the round kitchen table.

There is coffee, always coffee.

and smoke

like bar level-they may have all been going to heaven, but they smoked like hell. :)

I can hear a rumbly voice singing, "Somebody Prayed For Me."

I can hear them, laughing.



Among this cluster there are children and grandchildren a plenty, my brothers and I fell right into the mix.

Sunday nights after church found us there playing...

elaborate games of baseball in a standard sized hallway, complete with bases.

He was quite
comparatively
a towhead among brothers that all sported hair the color of chocolate, green eyes to their brown.
A sprinkling of freckles.

This quite boy, was the first boy I kissed. In a field playing after school. I remember it a million years later because when you are six, kisses are new. Especially kisses that aren't tainted with life's troubles and expectations. That kiss, that peck-sweetness indeed.

[however, I would be remiss if I didn't share that after sharing that kiss his older brother ,a hustler even then ,threatened to tell my Daddy I had kissed his brother if I didn't also give him a kiss! Oh my! What was I supposed to do? Well two kisses in one day of course. *grins*]

We left that church, but those people never left our lives. Several years later we moved back to that area and again the tradition of integrating our lives continued. More so, that go round, because the parsonage was in disrepair and we ended up living with his grandparents for a bit.

This time around I was in sixth grade and there was no crush, he was simply my friend -- but he did something for me one day, that set a precedence. He made me believe in the whole knight in shining armor.

We went to the same school, but didn't have the same teacher. However, before school each day we had to sit in a line on the gym floor. This particular morning, a boy was being mean to me, he said something ugly. I sat there and then I heard him. He had walked up from behind as the kid was saying his deal. He simply said, ''hey you better leave her alone, she's my preacher's daughter.''

That was it, there was no fanfare, I mean we were in sixth grade. He did it though, he stood up for me. He made me feel special. Worth fighting for...

This kid
to say he was athletically gifted would be an understatement.
What others strive to be, what they practice to attain, seemingly just flowed from him.
This guy
had the eye of coaches and scouts,
at one of his baseball games, his senior year, he had more than 20 scouts there, just watching, him...
and not once
but twice
had professional teams pursuing him.
kissed with talent.

I found out recently that he walked out of rehab
again

A man that literally had a life pregnant with possibility before him...
lives like a man that has no potential.

A life that was kissed with promise,
now has the litter of failed marriages and children with a Daddy that could have been...

Somewhere along the way, he believed the lie.
He believed he wasn't enough on his own.
He began, maybe in innocent experimentation, filling a hole that only God can fill.
Now, it holds him. Mocks him. Makes a fool of him.
Makes him a disappointment to those that love him most.
Makes him a liar
a cheat
a thief.
It makes him a form of a man...but depleted of all that makes up a man.

Somewhere along the way, he fell for the idea that it was worth it.
That loving it was more important than loving his family,
his wife,
his children...

Chasing the feeling, only to be left in the dust of addiction.


If I close my eyes, years erase and I am back there...
we are kids again,
he's talking to me with that slight lisp, grinning...
always grinning.
We're sitting there in the gym, only this time I'm telling the bully ''hey you better leave him alone, that's my Daddy's kid.''

Will you pray for my friend?
I would be forever grateful.

Honey, I'm home!

019
Originally uploaded by Kudzu and Koolaid

We took a little excursion down to the Georgia coast. It was our second time to go to St. Mary's/Cumberland Island, Georgia. I love Cumberland Island--remote, filled with beauty and a totally uncluttered beach...just the ocean, sand and surrounded by the evidence that there has to be someone bigger and He does His job well.

I love road trips...
I love windows down
75 mph
music loud
drive time thinking

I did a lot of thinking while driving, about a lot of different things.
I didn't solve any world issues,
but blogging will follow-
some inspired from the thinking,
some inspired from life.

For today-it's back to laundry, schooling and my everyday, day to day.

I'll take some of that...

This morning I french braided Anna-Elizabeth's hair for church. As is her custom, she dashed to the mirror and admired herself, twirled around, pronounced it beautiful and ran off to have her brothers approve.

Daniel was walking into our room as she was running out and he said, ''Oh Nanna B, you look so beautiful.''

Do you know what Anna-Elizabeth did?

She smiled, hugely and said, "I know, thank you!"

She didn't sound conceited or ungrateful or snitty or prissy.

She sounded pleased. Her smile was mega watts wide, her eyes crinkled in happy. She wanted to be pretty & Daniel had just confirmed what she already knew.

.......

I was recently told something that kind of surprised me. Then of course it made me start thinking.
I was offered a compliment (actually several) and as is my natural response I kind of rebuffed them or joked them off.
My response, however, was met with...
''you know what, that self depreciation is funny for just about a minute.''

and I didn't know what to do with that...

I don't think I am unattractive. But I struggle, I just do, with the concept of someone looking at me and thinking I am beautiful.
Because I know me. LOL
I'm not.
:)
I've blogged before about my weight loss and how all of that plays into my thoughts regarding me now.
I don't know how to hear the compliment.
The only thing I know to do is to remind you of the flaws.
It's not that I think I am hideous,
it's that I want you to know that
...
what do I want you to know...
that I want to be beautiful,
within
and that the exterior is so
flawed,
aged,
damaged from life
that I can't imagine it being beautiful,

not when I think of all that is out there...
the perfect blondes
that haven't birthed babies (or have and still look smokin' hot...heh-so not me)
the skin that didn't stretch,
the veins that didn't bulge,
the body that didn't bounce back...
it's easier to point out these things-
because

(? because it's easier to think that perfection is expected, than perhaps flawed can be beautiful too?)

I watched Anna-Elizabeth today and it made me cry-it honestly did, because I'd love to have some of that...to look at someone and say, "I know, thank you'' and smile a smile that didn't give off prima donna attitude, but gratitude for saying it & making me believe it.

I could learn a few lessons from that girl of mine.

the hard stuff...

As a Christ follower, my first admission should be that I fail. Often.

I disappoint God, I disappoint myself.

I should also admit that as a Christ follower sometimes the very hardest part is the following aspect. It's easy to pray or read your bible--it's often harder to DO.

God has been working in my life lately, taking down barriers, pushing my boundaries...extending my faith.

It hasn't been pretty.
Because I like to fight against it all.
But I know that the fighting is always futile, He always wins, obedience is always, always best.

So like Ruth I go in, uncover their feet, lie there and trust God ...

God is our kinsmen redeemer...He will restore our situation, He will make our paths straight...

but we have to lie down,
sometimes look a little vulnerable
for God to throw the cover on us...

Naomi instructs Ruth to approach Boaz privately at his threshing floor, next to his fields. Threshing floors were level areas of smooth rock or pounded earth, where harvested grain could be separated from the chaff (or husks) by being beaten, and then tossed into the air against the wind, so that the breeze blew the chaff away, leaving the heavier grain to fall straight down. Naomi’s plan is a risky one that could place Ruth in jeopardy of a potential scandal.

As the owner of the field, Boaz could have had others guard his harvested crop…but he likely enjoyed all aspects of farm life. Ruth finds Boaz, sees that he is asleep, and uncovers his feet so that he would wake up, shivering from the chill, and notice her. We know enough of Boaz’s character to know he will not take advantage of Ruth’s vulnerability.

When Boaz awakens, Ruth asks him to spread the corner of his garment over her. This was a common expression of the day, referring to the protection of marriage. To throw a garment over a woman was to claim her as one’s wife. The same word translated “garment” here is translated “wings” in 2:12, referring to the provision of God. In Ezekiel 16:8, God says to the nation of Israel, “I spread the corner of my garment over you...I gave you My solemn oath and entered into a covenant with you, and you became Mine.”

Ruth is asking Boaz to be her kinsman-redeemer. Our kinsman-redeemer is Jesus, Who has redeemed us by sacrificially taking the penalty for our sin upon the cross. Like Boaz, He has the right to redeem, He is able to redeem, and He is willing to redeem. Jesus has purchased us with His blood, has made us His bride, and is now preparing a home for us in Heaven.

*from HERE

say what you need to say

did you know I was never a huge John Mayer fan till the last year or so...
I love his song, "Say What You Need To Say''

My favorite line...

''even if your hands are shakin'

and your faith is broken

even as the eyes are closing

do it with a heart wide open...

say what you need to say''

As someone, who (believe it or not) has gone their whole life weighing every word...this song, as a reality is hard for me. Very hard. I am a very wordy girl. I love to talk. I am sarcastic and quick with wit and comebacks, generally. I love to joke and kid around. But it is rare that I open up and really say what I need to say.

Why?

Rejection, of course.

It's much, much easier for me to appear one way, to project that...than it is to disappoint you with who I really am.

That probably sounds far more dramatic than intended. The point is...I can listen to you. I can hear your struggles. I can see broken places in your life & it makes me love you more. It makes me want to help you...to pray for you...to encourage you...to let you know that YOU are not those broken things...you are incredible and you shine and you have this amazing potential and capacity to be so much. I can see that so clearly.

I can't seem to apply it to me. I seem to think that if I let you know i'm broken that it will be too much.

and you'll walk away.

so it's safer for my heart

to project the 'kinda sorta have it together'

and shoulder on...

than to risk you knowing me

and not liking me.

rejection is a hard, hard thing.

I learned to be funny...early on

to make fun of myself before you had the opportunity.

I built up huge walls...

that protected me

from both having deep relationships but also from being hurt deeply...

The thing is...with people like me...the ones that have the biggest walls...

if you EVER penetrate them,

you find that we have the most tender hearts...

so easily bruised

because we've exposed them to so few.

You find that we give, until it hurts, typically, because we've trusted you enough to let you in...

You find a person so scared

so very scared.

Because then you have the power to hurt us, and hurt us badly...

And on the convex, you end up putting expectations on those you do let in...sometimes unfairly.

And sometimes people do hurt you...

they just do...

and you hurt them...

but you can't, I can't

live my life protecting myself from potential pain...

not when there is so much potential magic...

say what you need to say...

carrying the hammer

i have a friend, that when she was walking through a trial would say, ''at least i'm not carrying a hammer.''

she was making reference to Noah. how years before there was even on drop of rain...he was building a boat.

now, hindsight allows us to call this faith. i mean he was doing as God instructed....he was doing the right thing. obedience.

at the time, however, can you imagine how he felt some days...
carrying around a hammer
building a boat
predicting a great flood
while everyone looked on
and snickered
laughed
mocked

i can imagine some days felt very long...
carrying that hammer
preaching
warning
begging
wanting so badly for them to hear truth
to see truth

have you ever felt like that?
that God has called you to something...
maybe not ark building,
maybe not even near that scale...
but regardless,
God so often calls us out of our comfort zone
hands us a hammer
and there we go

knowing and trusting that God knows best
that his instruction,
his assignments
are for our betterment...

but man
the pride
(my pride)
the hammer singles us out
makes us look silly at times...
makes us have to be really raw
vulnerable
open
all for the sake
of obedience

and maybe the rain, the reason behind us carrying the hammer, is just as hidden to others as the flood was to those in the book of Genesis...

but the rain will come
the reason will make sense
God never leaves us in the rain, to weather the storm
because
see
that hammer there your holding now...
ensures you have an ark of protection.

the darkest day, the brightest Light

I can only imagine...
can't you?

Imagine being in the times of Jesus.
To see Him.
Touch Him.
Watch Him.
To witness, the presence of the God man...

The eyes that looked with compassion, looking at you...
the hands that healed the sick, touching your shoulder...
the voice that spoke the world into existence, saying your name in salutation...

I try to think, as a mother, how Mary must have felt...
His whole life had been marked
He was the Messiah
The Promised One
...
she had birthed him
alone
with the audience of Heaven as her doula...
encouraging her...cheering her on...
she held him
when he was restless with teething
when he cried in pain

She looked at Him in awe...
because she was raising the Savior
of.the.world.

How her heart must have ached
to know the pain that was to come...
how her spirit must have broken, knowing that the boy
that was on her lap
that looked up at her sleepily
one would day
look at her
from the cross of Golgotha

can you imagine?

That day, that Friday...was the fulfillment of the old testament prophets...
it was the reason He was born
He came
to die
So that we
could live...

All of His life to that point, was by no means moot...oh it had reason and purpose...
but His design
was to complete Salvation's Plan...
to make us, worthy
to provide a way for us to reach Him...

it was no small thing when Mary reached out her hands to Jesus to help him...

cause in that moment
she witnessed
the hands that would reach
stretch
grasp
for each of us

oh what a Savior!