“Give me words to speak, don’t let my spirit sleep, ‘cause I can’t think of anything worth saying but I know that I owe You my life. Every night, every day, I find that I have nothing left to say. So I stand here in silence awaiting Your Guidance. I’m wanting only Your Voice to be heard. Let them be Your Words.”
~Aaron Shust, “Give Me Words to Speak”
Listening to the radio recently, the lyrics above grabbed me with a force that almost took my breath. I was stunned by my own reaction to a simple song lyric. It occurred to me that what I was hearing was the cry of my own heart.
Can I be transparent, y’all? Can I just lay it out there and hope that you won’t laugh? I have this dream – I want to write. I want to spill words onto a page that will reach out and impact someone the way Mr. Shust’s words impacted me. I want to write words that give life, and hope, and encouragement, and joy, and laughter, and peace….and whatever….but I want them to be words that are straight from the Heart of God for His People – and those He longs to BE His People. I want to write words that make a difference in someone’s life, words that make change possible – and desirable. I’m not out to change the world – I just want to change a life – or a thousand.
It’s silly, aspiring to be a writer, when there are so many out there. So many with greater vocabularies, greater knowledge, deeper understanding of the things of God, more creativity, more wisdom. Who am I to have anything of value to say? I’m honestly at a loss for an answer to that question. I’m nobody….but then, so was Ananias…we don’t know ANYTHING about Ananias. He was referred to simply as “a certain disciple named Ananias”. He’s never noted in Scripture again…but, it was this unknown, seemingly insignificant, unimportant man that God called upon to open the eyes of Paul – Saul, the persecutor of Christ Followers. I have a quote on my wall that I look at often. It says, “God used Paul to touch the world; He used Ananias to touch Paul. That may be your job. You may touch the one who will touch the world.”
My desire is not to touch the world. My desire is to touch the one. So, y’all bear with me. You are my experimental audience. Ain’t you blessed?
So, that being said…here’s something I wrote back in February. I’m just going to tack it on here because basically – it’s the exact same thing that I just said up there ^^^^^.
February 23, 2014
I love Disney movies. My favorite scene of all Disney movies is from Beauty and the Beast. It’s the scene where the Beast shows Belle into his library. Floor to ceiling, every wall save one is covered in books. The one wall that is bookless is a wall of windows. Sigh. Belle’s reaction would be my own. I could be happy there – just bring me food and water.
Shortly after I gave my life to the Lord, I was in a church service where a guest speaker was ministering. At one point in the service, he came to me and told me, “I don’t know what it means, but when I look at you, I see row upon row upon row of books. I don’t know if it means that you just love books and God wants you to know that He knows what is important to you, or if it means you’re supposed to write books. So, just take it, pray about it, and God will reveal what He is saying to you.” As he said that, the scene above flashed into my mind, and I was encouraged that God was just telling me that He knows my heart.
I never thought about writing; other than the occasional scathing letter written to complain about poor customer service, or some such, I wasn’t much of a writer. Hated writing essays in High School and College, even though English was my favorite class. Go figure.
It wasn’t long after that night when, one morning sitting at home with my children; Daniel just an infant, Davey an active toddler, I wrote my first poem. And then another, and another, and another. My life, circumstances, fears, thankfulness, hopes, dreams….all flowed out onto paper in the form of rudimentary poetry. Still, I was hooked. It was an escape, a way to record my thoughts. Dozens of “poems” came – some better than others, but all from my heart.
Over time, active children and life made finding time to write – or even think – difficult, and then life took a turn we never expected. Daniel was diagnosed with autism. I dove headfirst into research and advocacy. I learned as much as I could, fought as hard as I could, and stopped writing briefly while all of my focus was turned toward this thing that had taken over our lives. The last poems I wrote were about our journey into autism. Beyond that, any writing was directed toward that end – letters to teachers encouraging, exhorting, instructing, sometimes rebuking. Letters to my representatives in Montgomery and in Washington. Internet message boards, learning from those further along in the journey, and eventually supporting those who’d just stepped into the world of a spectrum parent, offering hope and peace. I started a blog and recorded my thoughts there for the world to read. The subject matter ranged from my faith to our journey to politics to silliness. I enjoyed writing there; enjoyed the responses I got, and thought maybe – just maybe – this was something I could “do”.
It all came to a halt one morning in May 2009 when fear slammed into me, gripping my heart and life due to the actions of another. It crippled me, silenced me, and bound me into a place of uncertainty, insecurity, and inadequacy. I won’t go into it here; it’s long, ridiculously depressing – and pretty much irrelevant. Life continued, the panicked fear lifted, but the splinters and scars remained. I stopped writing. Period. End of sentence. End quote. It was just gone.
I honestly don’t even know when the desire to write resurfaced. I don’t recall. I remember a few years back a dear, precious friend – a former teacher of Daniel’s who’d been on the receiving end of many a letter offering encouragement and gratitude - sent me a message telling me that the Lord had told her that I was to write a devotional book. I laughed and thought, “Yeah. Riiigghhhttt.” Then a year or so ago, my pastor’s amazing wife asked me to consider writing something in the form of a devotional for the church website. This was still a “new” church for me – I have no idea how she knew that I enjoyed writing or what even made her believe that she could ask me and not ultimately regret that invitation. I need to ask her about that…how DID she know?
It took me for.ev.er to write something. One day, my heart was filled with worry and fear of what the future might bring, so I sat down at my computer to just type down my fear. I typed what I felt the Lord had told me, and allowed my thoughts to just flow from that. I sent it to her – unedited and not even proofread (the horror!) – and she published it on the website. It was raw, unrefined, a little confusing – but it was my heart, and it was real. And I was terrified that I’d said something wrong; something unscriptural; something that would show the world that I really don’t have it all together.
Since then, I have had several people say something to me about writing -
“When are you going to write a book?” “You’re supposed to be writing.” “You need to write.” And always, silently, in response, that voice in my head would say, “Who me? What would I write ABOUT? What do I have to offer the people of God? Who am I to say anything? What do I have to say?” – effectively dismissing their words and my own desire to do exactly what they’d suggested.
I really don’t have anything to offer to the people of God. I really don’t have anything to say. Most of the time my head is as empty as my hands. I’m no theologian. I’m no scholar. I worry that I’m not eloquent enough. I don’t “talk the talk” well – you know, church talk. Those buzz words that we in the church use when discussing things of God; the things that cause the world around us to look at us peculiarly. But God. God told me a long time ago that it doesn’t matter if I talk the talk as long as I walk the walk. That I can do. I may stumble, twist my ankle, trip over a rock – but I walk. Sometimes, I plod. Even trudge. Still, I walk. This path God has me on isn’t always easy to walk, but I know that it leads to Him, and that’s really all that matters.
So, no – I have nothing to offer. No profound revelation that will change lives, break chains, and lift up the broken-hearted. But I have God, and He has me – such as I am. (Bless Him – I so got the better end of this deal.) What I have is a Loving Father Who sometimes will whisper to me, and if I am faithful to listen, perhaps I can take what He has whispered and allow it to flow out of my fingers onto paper. Maybe, just maybe, someone will read it who is walking a path so similar to mine that they can relate and can hear God whispering to them as well.
Maybe one day I’ll learn to write concisely, without chasing rabbits, without allowing my meandering mind to take charge of my flying fingers. Perhaps one day my chaos can be beautiful. In the meantime, I just want it to be faithful.

Y'all know how I told you that my mind meanders? This Blahg is the result of my meandering mind this morning. It is pasted from a note on my iPhone, unedited. It's just random thoughts typed down - self talk, reminding myself of what I know to be true. Extend me grace, please.

Fear robs you of the ability to find peace. It steals your objectivity, and darkens your outlook; eclipsing hope on the horizon. Fear is an encompassing emotion, overwhelming thoughts, weakening faith,... and hiding wisdom. Fear tells you that the worst will happen and you are not strong enough to withstand it. Fear takes your focus off of God and turns it toward circumstances. Fear is a deceptive emotion, claiming to have knowledge of tomorrow.

Fear vs. Fact - it is the singular most important choice that we make when situations arise that produce fear.

Fear tells us what might come. Fact tells us what IS. Fear looks down. Fact looks straight ahead. Add Faith into the equation - Faith looks up. Faith shifts your focus above circumstances.
Fear looms over us. Fact stands beside us. Faith lifts us up.

What do you fear/dread? Look at what you SEE, not at what might come. If you don't yet have knowledge/outcome/answers, then that is not what you SEE. What you see is possibilities that are not yet realities. Remove your gaze from those and look through eyes of Faith. What does God say? If He isn't speaking yet, remember what He HAS said.

Trust that He has said He will never leave or forsake you. Trust that He has said He makes all things work together for the good. Trust that He has said that His Ways are perfect. Trust that He has said that He has Plans for you and will not harm you. Trust that He has said He will uphold you with His Righteous Right Hand - the very Hand where you are engraved. (Who tattoos their palm? God does!)
Being temporal isn't easy. We want answers now, and when we can't see answers, our minds begin to examine possibilities of what MIGHT happen, producing fear or dread, forgetting that tomorrow is visible only to One. Worrying, dreading, fearing will not change an outcome. But it will change you.
So will responding in Faith to the not yet known events of tomorrow. What do you actually see? What does God say?

 Faith. Because He loves you. And you never walk alone into tomorrow. Ever.

This morning as I pulled into my driveway after dropping my younger son off at school, I glanced down into the back yard. My eye caught sight of the old, long abandoned treehouse perched back there, noting that a limb from it's host tree had fallen and was leaning precariously against the side of a collapsing railing. I recalled the days when my sons would play there, imagining whatever it is that boys imagine while sitting high in a tree. I could almost hear the echo of their shouts and laughter. Ghosts of days gone by haunting my longing heart. How quickly they grow, and today men stand in the place of the boys I raised; the treehouse now only a monument to childhood and motherhood. Who of us, as a mother, has not looked back and wondered, no - worried - that we're doing it all wrong, making mistakes that will cause some irreparable harm to the young psyches of our children resulting in a sociopathic adult or some such? Oh, yes, you have. Don't pretend you haven't. We all have. We're mothers. We're all neurotic. Yet, somehow, despite our flaws and failings, our children usually grow to be reasonably sane and responsible. Proof that if God can use an ass to guide, He can certainly use us.
 

How like God to use such simplicity to call out to me, to remind me of His instruction to build monuments to His Goodness. Throughout the history of His people are stories of monuments being erected as reminders of what the Lord accomplished in their lives. These monuments were usually as simple as a large stone set in place for present and future generations to use as remembrance - "Look what the Lord has done!"

It's easy to forget. We live in the right now and the what if. Circumstances, situations, concerns arise. We look around and ahead, forgetting to look back at our monuments to what God has done, recalling that His Faithfulness hasn't changed.
 
Back then, the Hebrew people would trudge into the river for the perfect stone, or pile stones found in the desert. They would place the stone just so, and then pour oil over it, anointing it, making it holy. I believe God still desires that we anoint our monuments. I believe that God would have us, in times that we need to remember His Goodness, take out our monuments - our memories of victories past, of deliverances past, of provisions past - and anoint them yet again with the Oil of Holy Spirit by praying over them, declaring again, "Look what the Lord has done!" And will do. Again, and again, and again.

Just like that treehouse stands in my back yard, reminding me of days spent watching two happy, rambunctious boys climb and shout and risk broken limbs - their own, not those belonging to the tree - there are monuments throughout our lives, if we care to look.
There's a running vehicle in the driveway, a roof over my head, food in the pantry. I'm warm, I'm well-fed (TOO well-fed!) - monuments to God's provision. There's receipts for prescription medicines from a recent bout with pneumonia - monuments to God's healing, through the Wisdom He has given my Doctor. There's the memory of another Doctor saying to me, "It doesn't look as if you've EVER had mitral valve prolapse." - a diagnosis I had carried for 10+ years - a monument to God's supernatural healing. There are wrinkles around my eyes, monuments to the life of laughter that God has given me. There are worry wrinkles on my forehead, also monuments - to the fact that whatever causes me to wrinkle my brow always, always passes and God is always at work on my behalf.

As I look back over my life, I recall so many times where God has been very present. I remember a time, years ago, when we struggled financially and every Sunday evening while we were at church someone would leave a box of groceries on our porch. We still have NO idea who our grocery angel was, but the memory is a monument to the Love of God touching through the hands of His People. When we began to level out financially, the grocery angel stopped coming. We had told no-one. But God knew that He had begun providing for us in our jobs, and our grocery angel knew God, and listened to His Direction. The timing was perfect and we never wanted for anything. How intimately God knows us!

That's just our God, my friends. Intimate, Loving, Faithful. We matter to Him. The details of our lives matter to Him. Looking out at the vastness of the Universe, it's easy to consider ourselves too small to be noticed by the One who designed it all, but notice He does. Not only does He notice, but He moves closer, leaning in, listening, reminding, proving Himself over and over. And yet we still forget when the next what if comes along.

Monuments. Anointed, oil-covered monuments. Holy Spirit soaked memories of the Kingdom of God present in the mundane of our daily lives and experiences. 

 Won't you build some with me? Come on...let's go gather some stones!

Saturday, I spent the day kayak fishing and hiking with my husband. We were fishing in our favorite lake, a place that is very familiar to us. We noticed that one area had changed a bit. We weren't really surprised - we had seen beavers in the area on previous visits. Curiosity got the better of us, so we found a place to land our kayaks and pull them safely out of the water. We began to walk along the mountainside that surrounds the lake. As we got beyond the normal boundary of the lake and continued back into the flat land at the head of the lake, we started seeing the work of the industrious beaver community that inhabits the area. A little further back, and we were astonished.
We had come upon a large pool, created by a dam built by these amazing creatures. It was clearly a community - a beaver neighborhood.
We continued walking and soon realized that this beaver community was designed as three tiers - each layer we came upon was a couple of feet higher than the one before it, and slightly smaller. We were astounded as we watched the water trickle over the dams, yet the water level of the lower pools did not increase, perfect in design. Filling and emptying in precise measure so that no pool emptied and no pool flooded, each pool filled to perfection.
In the silence of nature, we could hear a rush of water; upon further inspection we found its source - a perfectly round, perfectly placed hole just behind one of the dams allowing water to rush, rather than trickle, into the pool below. At first, we were a little confused about the reason for the hole, considering that perhaps it was accidental - a sign of some damage or erosion caused by the continual flow of water against the carefully stacked wooden barrier. But soon we noticed that despite the increased flow of water, the water levels below were precisely maintained. Incredulously, we realized that this rushing water had the purpose of stirring up the water to keep it fresh, avoiding stagnation.
We continued on beyond the dammed beaver community and soon came upon the stream of fresh water that fed the beaver pools and ultimately the lake beyond. The stream was simply breathtaking. Crystal clear, and lined by greenery that was in striking contrast to the stark browns and grays that made up the winter garments of the surrounding mountainside. This was the stream that provided life - year round to the waters below.
It occurred to me during the worship service at church yesterday morning - How very much like the Presence of God operating within His Church is the design of this Beaver Community!
As the worship team led us into the Presence, I could see again the Stream, feeding that first, highest & smallest pool. The Holy Spirit pouring into the worship team with absolutely no intent of that Water staying there on that platform.
The Water flowed into the next pool, a little larger than the previous one - His Church, for me Deeper Life Ministries - and your church, wherever that may be.
But it is not intended to stop there either. As it flows out from that middle pool into the largest pool - the last in the Beaver Community, it is stirred up, intended to refresh and renew the largest pool of the community. God's impact, through His Presence operating within us, flowing into our community.
Finally, the Water flowed into the lake. The Presence Of God going into the world on the feet, heart, and hands of His people.
All because of one Beautiful Stream, and a community of beavers, in tune with the Creator.

Hello again!

Well, hello again!  I'm thinking it's time to resurrect this blog after 100 years, give or take. 

I'll spare you the mundane details of my absence - really, it's nothing other than life got busy and time just didn't allow. I could make up some dramatic story, though, if you'd like that better than just hearing that work and family just had to come first for a while. 

I'm ever so excited to be back, though.  Hopefully, I'll have something worthwhile to share from time to time.  Unfortunately, life is no less busy these days, so as much as I'd like to, I'm just not able to blog every day. One of these days...one of these days...life will slow down - hopefully my brain won't follow suit...

To start off, if I can figure out how to do so, I'm just going to share some blogs that I've posted on my Facebook blog, "Blither, Blather, Blahg".  I will probably continue to cross post there as well. 

Hope y'all are blessed! And warm.  Don't forget warm.  Blessed and warm.  :)

Much love!

Toni