Weapon of gratitiude

^| "In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one."|

--Ephesians 6v16--

Right now, I should be studying real estate law.

But, when the urge to write storms through me, I. Must. Write.

These past seven months have been an excruciating challenge. I feel like I say that in every one of my posts.

It's funny, hilarious even, when people tell me, "oh it'll get easier." I appreciate their kind intentions behind their gesture, but that statement is false. My life without my mom will never ever, ever, ever get easier. Not matter what anyone says. 

 In the beginning of this pain stricken journey, I was shattered into a million un-mend-able pieces. I was found by this Man who lovingly, and tenderly and patiently pieced me back together. He had reconstructed me into a form stronger than what I was before. 

Of course, we know the enemy loves destroying things, wreaking havoc, and breaking things. Well, to say the least, he saw the wonderful things Christ made out of my brokenness and just struck me down again. 

This cycle continued.

It continued up to my "final straw" moment. 

The enemy attacked me more harshly than every before. I was sucked into a mind-set of hopelessness. I literally felt like I was without God. I was filled with terror, depression, sorrow, fear... but the strongest was hopelessness.

When illness and tragedy befall a person without God and hope of His sovereignty all they have left to face is pain, and a nice green lot at the cemetery.

Life... just ends.

Joy ends. 

Love ends.

Laughing ends. 

Feeling ends.

Family ends.

Hope ends.

Hope. Less.

That's scary. That WAS scary. All those emotions, I have felt.

 Thank God for the mighty army of prayer warrior friends I have in my life. Thank God that he really hears His children's cries and pleads for help. The most supernatural feeling I have ever felt came over me--like I was being washed anew & being filled with a warm light.

I began thanking God. I began praising God.

I was thanking God for all He had done for me. I was praising God for all the blessings and promises He is and will be fulfilling in my life. 

Best part is, this all scared the enemy. 

Praise and thanks literally SCARE the enemy away.

He hates that God has given me this powerful testimony of His undoubtable power.

He hates my faith in Christ.

And I want everyone to know that. 

The enemy's attack only made me stronger.

My AK-47 is me giving thanks to God--my shield of faith. Seriously, try it! What do you have to lose?

Now, I am entering another trial.

This year, the holidays are looming before me and not prancing with joy before me. I'm dreading this Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Years. I'm honestly convinced it will suck terribly this year. I can't even enjoy "Jingle Bells." I love Jingle bells. I love Christmas. I love everything about the holidays. Just the one thing I love the most isn't here at the moment. 

More to come as the holidays draw near. I'll defeat that turd of a devil.

I part with this:

"Give thanks to The Lord for he IS GOOD..."

truly He is. I can testify to that.

 

I Went to Heal. But I Was Healed.

This August 2013, I feel in love.

I feel in love with not just one person but many.

A country, even.

More so, I feel in deeper love with my God. I saw His majesty and glory 36,000 feet up in the night sky. I've never seen a more beautiful sight. I've never felt so close to the cosmos.

A tingling in the back of my neck woke me up from my sleep on the airplane.

That night, I had a front row seat to the most beautiful lighting storm and meteor shower. 

I felt like I was that much closer to the dwelling of God.

I was part of the medical team in Haiti. I went there expecting help and heal.

In return, I was the one that was healed.

This mission was deeper than fulfilling The Great Commission. It had a greater purpose, for me, than helping the people of God and feeding our brothers and sisters.

Usually, when people sign up for mission trips, they're excited and pumped and just totally ready to go.

I signed up with vulnerability, fear and anxiety pumping fiercely though my veins. The loud, menacing voice of anxiety sang its familiar tune of lies. 

I walked straight across the flaming coals, not looking back, to the left or right. I headed forth strong.

It was weeks before our departure. The money for room and board and airfare were due soon. 

Now, mind you, I went into this blindly, not looking back, not considering if I'm financially OK to go (which I sure wasn't.)

God put it on someone-who-shall-remain-unidentifed's heart to write me a check to cover my room & board expenses. All of it. Not some of it. All of it. 

A few days later, I receive a text saying that my airfare had been covered. God's providence had truly shone!

I believe God hand-picked me to go. He knew my heart and life needed healing.

I came back bandaged (spiritually) and in the process of mending wounds from an ongoing war since March.

I came home with a new found strength. A new, stronger faith.

And the enemy did not like this.

After coming back from Haiti, I was sad to have to settle back into my own reality again. I missed Haiti. I missed my missionary family. I missed the freedom I felt while there. 

I forgot what anxiety felt like in Haiti. And I forgot how it felt like when I came home.

The experience in Haiti and the volumes at which I heard God had been a salve to my gaping wound. 

The enemy started to do anything in his weak, pathetic, sleazeball power to crush this healing and strength.

He tried. He attacked. He whispered lies into my mind and heart. He tried to take away what God had done in me.

To be transparent in the name of Jesus with the cyber world, the enemy attacked me with fear that was just crippling. One that I had never felt before. I prayed so hard, SO hard. I tried to read the Bible. The more I read it, the more scared I got (what the heck!) 

It was like a storm of the century. Winds of lies whirling in my mind. Earthquakes of fear and uncertainty trembled through my heart. The enemy, stomping his supposed victory dance on my life.

Amidst the lies and blows, I heard a familiar, comforting voice.

 The still, small voice.

That one, I can always trust.

He told me to text a good friend of mine that had gone through similar life experience. I did.

They fought alongside me in prayer. Despite the distance, I literally felt the warmth of their prayers.

And then they sent me this:

|"God, you are my God. 

I search for you.

I thirst for you like someone in a dry, empty land

where there is no water.

I have seen you the Temple

and have seen your strength and glory.

Because your love is better than life,

I will praise you.

I will praise you as long as I live.

I will lift up my hands in prayer to your name.

I will be content as if I had eaten the best foods,

My lips will sing, and my mouth will praise you,

I remember you while I'm lying in bed;

I think about you through the night.

You are my help.

Because of your protection, I sing.

I stay close to you;

you support me with your right hand."|

--Psalm 63v1-8--

I was told that David wrote this Psalm while he was in a desert.

How sweet it is to know that The Lord's love truly is better than life itself.

How timely God intervenes in our darkest, ugliest moments with the most loving, comforting reply. 

That's it. That's life! "I will praise you as long as I live."

His love and grace is sufficient.

The enemy did not like the healing and strength that was poured over me in Haiti. So much so that he took a swing at me.

Blessed as I am, I have an army of prayer warriors to fight him off.

Fight on. 

The answer is {no}

|"Jesus said to her, 'I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?'"|

-John 11v25-26-

This week someone asked me, "is it harder for you now?"

Is it harder now that my mom is no longer a part of the physical world? My answer is no.

Absolutely, it's tough. I'm human, I cry, I get angry and confused and ask dumb questions like, "why?" What's challenging about all this are the adjustments I'm facing and pure lies the enemy throws at me daily: "loner!" "You have no mom." "Everyone is pitying you." "Coming home to an empty house again!" "How can you say you're blessed?" Constant reminders that I'm physically motherless.

Lies.

I miss her. It's still so surreal-- like this is a bad dream. That's the tough part. I find myself alone and amidst the silence, the ugly reality sets in. But this is a different kind of reality. It's a dark, scary, hopeless one. One where death is simply... death. 

In the name of Jesus I pray those thoughts away. Jesus clearly says that if we believe in him we "will never die." Those who have died are indeed alive.

It makes me so happy to know my mom is indeed alive, happy, pain-free and young again. She didn't die, she became alive. Her life has finally started; she's living the life that God intended for us to live many years ago.

Waiting is hard. 

In the months that I ardently prayed for healing, I simply was waiting. Waiting to see God's next move. I'd say those last few weeks were the absolute hardest of my life. 

The sound of the ticking clocks in my house began to taunt me (they still do, in a way, to this day) knowing that each second brought us closer to an unknown tomorrow.

I'm so happy for my mom. She doesn't need to feel the pain of this physical world anymore.

I believe--I know-- that there is a greater destination. I know the kingdom of God is drawing nearer every day. When someone so close to you is so close to the actual being of Christ, you can feel heaven so much more closer than before. 

It's been lonely, yes, because we all know that "mom is where home is." Home to me is no longer the habitation made of wood and sheet-rock in Troutdale, Oregon. It's not home because my mom isn't here. My home is now in a wonderful, heavenly dwelling. I'm SO excited for the rapture, you have no idea!

God has been so good to me and has been the anchor to my soul more than ever before. Daily I'm learning how to lean on him, feed my soul and bury the fallen kernels and simply watch something new grow.

|Awaiting the New Body|

2 Corinthians 5v1-10 (NIV)

|"For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.

Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothedinstead with our heavenly dwelling, because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.  

Now the one who has fashioned us for this very purpose is God, who has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.

Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord.For we live by faith, not by sight. .We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.  

So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it.

For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad."|

Thoughts in the {raw}

"|It's in transitions that we are strengthened, that our character builds & we really discover who we are & what we want from life. It's when we let go of  our preconceptions that we find our true purpose.|"

 -anonymous-

Our preconceptions. Your preconceptions. My preconceptions. If only we had that mighty pen in our weary 

little hands to write out the blueprints to our future.

What would your life look like this very moment; if all the pain and transitions-- if you were able to hit the "backspace" key on all of it?

I've been pondering this thought lately. If I could've snatched that pen from my Creator and erase all the pain I've felt and the unfortunate situations, where would I be now? Would I truly be happy? Would I be on the path that would shape into the person God intended me to be?

To be honest, sure, I would have been extremely content with having my mama still alive. Goodness, that would be so wonderful. However, I truly think I would be in a boring, polluted, stagnant puddle of "me". 

I would probably continue living a callous life on my own insipid mountain of my own preconceptions of my life.

Thinking of my past makes me sad. Thinking of my future just scares me. It scares me because the plans 

I see in the future are self-conceived not Holy Spirit conceived.

Being tossed into stormy, uncharted waters forces us to call upon Abba Father; we realize we NEED Him.

We would never intentionally throw ourselves into a hurricane for the fun of it. I think most of us prefer smooth sailing on nice sunny days.

 Like that famous quote says,

 |"Smooth sailing never made a skilled sailor."|

I've been promoted to sail into the unknown; to discover new and wonderful things; to sail so far into the darkness of the unknown that I am able to see stars that only I get to see.

This whole "not knowing", I love it. 

I lost my own preconception and my own hand-drawn map of my life amidst the storm.

My plans sucked anyway.

My coordinates most likely wouldn't have lead me to Christ. 

I'm here, sailing an unknown sea without my own navigation. 

My trust in my God, I have released anchor to. 

I have no reason to sob over my own lost plans to my life.

Better ones are in the making.

God is pinpointing coordinates leading me to {amazing} places and people.

Until I reach my first coordinate destination (I sure hope it's literally a destination, I could use a vacation!), 

I'm learning to embrace life & it's crazy ambiguity. 

 

 

{Physician} When the Healing Doesn't Come

God is Jehovah Rophi, the God who heals. He is Physician.

With one touch of his garment His power floods our being.

But what happens when the healing doesn't come? 
That's right. God remains Jehovah Rophi, the God who heals. He is physician.

All those precious hours spent in prayer for healing are not considered lost. God heard each and ever one of them. God counted each and every one of my tears. He knows me; and He not only knows, but He cares.

On a faithful February night, the Women's Night in Prayer at Solid Rock (PDX) took place. This is probably the third highlight of my year next to July 4th and being a counselor at Sunday School camp. 

I knew this was going to be a night in prayer to remember. I was so excited to see what Name of God card I would receive. There are about 30 cards with a name of God (eg. Physician, Jealous God, the God who sees me etc.) The women of solid rock take the time to actually pray over these cards that they are received by the right hearts.

Whoever prayed over mine, God heard them loud and clear. 

I got |Physician.|

How timely.

I had a feeling deep down inside of me I'd get this one.

My mama was slowly fading away from this physical world. I'm sure by that time, she's gotten some sort of a taste of God's dwelling. I still had hope. I wasn't letting her go without a good prayer battle. Boy, it was more like a war.

My heart and hopes were over the moon when I got this card! It motivated me to intercede even harder in prayer. 

I was NOT giving up.

I even showed it to my mom and told her she ain't goin' nowhere!

The healing that {I} thought was promised to me through the card... it never came.

God wasn't the Physician in the fashion I wanted Him to be. He didn't fix what I wanted Him to fix.

Nonetheless, He truly is Physician. He is currently fixing.

Little did I know, God wasn't going to be a Physician to my mama but a Physician to my family and I. To heal the open wound left when she was torn out of our lives.

So far, God has healed me of the "why's", "it's not fair's," and "that's not what I asked of You's." Right now, He's working on a bigger wound. A wound I left untreated and denied.

The sadness. The depression. The anxiety. The vacancy left in my heart and life.

I've heard people tell me and admire me for my strength... if they only knew.

But, that's all a part of strength. Admitting to weakness, knowing you can't get through this all on your own with no support. I can't deny the pain left with my mama's departure. It hurts. But I am surviving. 


I can't say that healing didn't come. It did. In a different manifestation.

Healing came with wisdom and learning a heck of a lot of things about life.

I still believe. God never changes. He will always be Physician to me.

|He is healing.|

Sure & Certain

|"Now, faith is being sure of what we hope for 

and certain of what we do not see.

By faith we understand that the universe was formed 

at God's command,

so that what is seen

was not made out of what was visible."|

-Hebrews 11v1;3-  

Lately, I've been clinging to these verse. I suppose it reminds me of the vast power and authority of Yahweh.        

                                      |"...the universe was formed at God's command..." |

We are a work of art; we were created by an artist. Now that I think deeper into this metaphor, we are an unfinished work of art. God is constantly fixing the smudges, smoothing edges, trimming us.

We have to trust God--the artist--that he knows full well what He's doing. We must have faith that, in the end, there will be a beautiful finished product. We hope He will work out in a favorable outcome.


In the times where we are put to the test--being put through fire-- the last thing we should do is lose hope and faith; because it is the most lonely and scary feeling any one will ever feel.

There is a huge mountain in my life right now. Most people are saying, "It cannot be moved," pitifully purse their lips, shake their head and apologize.

"It is TOO big!" they say...

...but in my mind, I say, "HA! They do not know how capable my God is." I laugh in the face of their doubt. And, I laugh in the face of my own doubts.

In the presence of Yahweh, there is no room for disease, darkness, addictions, depression. He is the creator of everything good. 

Having faith and believing the blood of Jesus heals is not enough. Proclaim! that the blood of Jesus has already healed.

|"Your faith has healed you..."| 

-Mark 10v52- 

 

|...by his wounds we are healed.|

-Isaiah 53v5-

How can I lose faith in my precious Lord? Why would I? After all he's done for me. After all the mercy and grace he pours over me every day. He's been faithful to answer me and to be next to me when ever I call on him, he's doing the same right now. 

He is an unchanging God. Miracles didn't just happen in Bible times. 

{they're happening as we speak}

I ran away to the sea last night

I ran away. 
|I ran towards the sea|.
I ran because I was confused; scared. 
The tides are high in my life;
 the waters are coming up a little too close for comfort. 

As {daylight} wisps away, 
the tide grows closer to shore. 
|However|, the tides know what they're doing. 
 They aren't just some untamed anomaly. 
The bright moon leads and guides them in and out.  

Ultimately, that moon is our Creator, no?
 I can just see Him now;
his silky, white beard, bow-tie, 
His almighty hands conducting and orchestrating the movements of each wave. 
Each wave never getting closer than what His hands had conducted. 

They pause when His hands pause. 
They intensify as He conducts. 
The tides never miss a beat, |never| go over the mark.
Residence on shore can go about life in peace knowing the tides will never get higher than what is safe.