Showing posts with label High calling blogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label High calling blogs. Show all posts

03 February 2012

He knew where home was...

Some of you know the story of my first face-to-face encounter with my beloved.  I have posted the tale in parts, but it is a story I love repeating. so here we go again...

My bags were packed; plans were made for my mother to drive me to the airport. It was the night before my flight, and there was nothing left to do but talk with Rick on the phone and sleep. I was excited, but also nervous and listening yet again to fear and doubt, words that were not coming from the mouth of God.

“What if you decide I'm too ugly” I asked “I'm scared. I'm sure of God but not sure of me.”

“Why don't you take a tranquilizer or sleeping pill if you have one” he said. “You need to get some rest tonight and not worry so. Unless you develop Elephant Man disease overnight, there is nothing to worry about.”

Somehow his words and the time we spent in prayer together soothed me and I was able to get a little bit of sleep. I rose ready to face whatever the Lord was about to do.

When my mother was dropping me off at the airport, she asked “Are you going to come back married?”

“Maybe so” I answered, not wanting to admit that they had already planned for that.

“Will you call when you get there, to let us know you're safe?”

“Of course I will Mom, and don't worry.” A quick hug and kiss goodbye and I walked into the airport terminal and a new beginning.

Once the plane had reached cruising altitude I did what came naturally. I pulled out my journal and began to write:
It is so bright up here in God's light. Surrounded by the light this morning on the first part of journey. But.. I have had His light around me for weeks now. I am so sure of Him, in a way I had not previously felt. 
Oh my precious Father, what new words can I find to praise You? How to best let Your name be glorified? Let Your light shine through me, Lord, for every living soul to see Your reflection in me.

I ask for guidance this morning Father, trusting that You will lead me where You want me, but not quite trusting myself. Let me not chase after my own desires, but continue to seek what You desire of me.
The time spent in prayer and reflection soothed my spirit. Stashing the journal back in my carry on, I was ready for the plane to land and to walk into the arms of the man who waited for me.

I stood in the immigration services line with my passport, thinking it odd that Canada was a foreign country. When I was called to the desk, the officer asked me “What is the purpose of your visit, business or pleasure?”

“Pleasure. Definitely pleasure” I replied, while thinking “and about my Father's business”

The officer stamped my passport and I was free to retrieve my bags when they came around on the carousel. The two suitcases were bulky and hard to handle and I felt foolish for packing so much.

One more line to wait in for the customs agent, who simply took my declaration card and said “Welcome to Canada” and I walked through the doors to find Rick, wearing the hat he said he would wear so I would recognize him, just in case he looked different than his picture.

After weeks of imagining what it would feel like, I was held tight in his embrace. Then he whispered very clearly in my ear “a hundred and ten percent, baby.”

I remembered his words to his pastor when he had asked Rick how he could be so sure I was the right woman for him. “I'm 99 percent sure now. When I meet her at the airport I'll be a hundred percent sure.”

“Hundred and ten, eh?” I laughed, feeling every bit of apprehension drain from my being. I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be, at last.

It was a 3-1/2 hour ride from Winnipeg to Rick’s home town. We talked and laughed as if we had known each other all our lives and were continuing a conversation where we had left off. There was a comfort and familiarity between us that surprised us both.

Rick told me a story about his coworker trying to convince him that I was probably some weirdo who had undergone a sex change. While he was laughing, I turned to him, with quite suddenly a very serious look on my face.

“Oh rats! Now you know! I was hoping to keep it a secret.” I said sternly, but I couldn't maintain the serious expression and started to giggle, then chuckle, then laugh heartily.

“I'll have to check it out for myself then” Rick snickered.

“Not until we're married” I warned, wagging my finger at him “And by then it will be too late.”

The laughter felt wonderful, from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. Joy filled the car. With the joy came the peace that only God could provide.

Every time Rick had to pause at a stop light he would lean over to kiss me. There was a new kind of thrill that moved through my blood, different than any man had caused before. If someone had asked me to describe it, I would not have had words. I simply knew that this was stronger, deeper, more right than any touch from my past.

Once we got away from the city, the highway narrowed to one lane each direction. There was very little traffic. It was unusually warm for so early in May as if God had shifted weather patterns to make for an enjoyable day of traveling. Rick named off the towns as we moved through them, and I watched the unfamiliar landscape passing outside the open window.

There was mile upon mile upon endless mile of open fields. Farmers, using various kinds of large equipment that I did not yet know the names of, were busy preparing the ground for the coming season of planting. Barns, and old farm houses and grain storage bins reached out into the fields.

“There's nothing but land” I exclaimed. “Land extending out forever no matter where I look. It's unbelievable.”

"Yep” Rick nodded, smiling. “I'd expect that reaction from a city girl.”

There was space, blue sky, bright sun and fresh air. I inhaled deeply and let everything inside myself settle. “I'm here” I thought silently “here where you've sent me Lord.”

We were getting closer to his home town, approaching a lake that he wanted me to see. Rick asked if it would make me nervous if he pulled off onto a side road.

"Well, if you're going to kill me now, have at it” I laughed. “I've trusted you and come this far, why stop now.”

He slowed and pulled the car to a stop, parking near the driveway of a beautiful home.

“If we go to the beach from here we don't have to pay to get in and park” he said, taking hold of my hand, and we started walking.

It felt good to be out of the car and stretch. I noticed that we walked in the same rhythm, legs moving in unison. We were walking on a well trodden path through bushes and trees. Rick stopped frequently to pull me into his embrace and kiss me with all the passion that had been building up over the past weeks.

"Wow! I guess I hadn't needed to worry about chemistry” I said, my knees weakening at his touch.

When we emerged from the path onto the beach I erupted with delight.

“Did I ever tell you how much I've always loved the water?”

“I don't believe you did” Rick replied, shaking his head. “There's lots of things we have to learn about each other, and we'll have lots of time to learn them.”

Linking up with Jennifer at Getting Down with Jesus and The High Calling Blogs where we're talking about both the joys and struggles of  marriage.


 

14 October 2011

Ruthie

She has been gone for years
this woman of love
who was closer than a great-aunt
closer than an aunt
surrogate grandmother
more like a sister
often my best friend
always called Ruthie,
never Ruth

She was the sixth born
of nine children
a younger sister of my mother's mother

She watched her older sister marry and have children
and her younger sister marry and have children
and though she did at last find a husband, children were never given

She kept house for herself, her husband, her father and two bachelor brothers
and had more love to spare for nieces and nephews
as if they were her own

I never knew my grandmother, my mother lost her when I was only one
but there was Aunt Ruthie
lavishing more love on me (it seemed) than any of her other nieces
perhaps she saw a need, a hole that wanted filling
and she poured and poured and poured out love

As a teen, Aunt Ruthie was the one I could share my struggles with
things I was afraid to tell my mother
as a young woman I could call her anytime
regaling her with the ups and downs of romances
I was awakened in the night at the exact moment
she passed from life to death
although I didn't get the call informing me
until the next morning

There are moments still
when I think
"I have to call Ruthie"
to share some special tidbit in my day

and I wonder if she knows
her laugh lives on in me
and the twinkle that I caught
became a flickering fire
I hope it burns bright enough
for her to see.

late and scattered.. but here, written as part of a High Calling community project.  To read more voices click here

16 June 2011

Drenching or drought?


We have been drenched with more than enough moisture.  Days of rain follow days of rain.  Farmers fall to their knees in prayer, needing to trust God for His provision, His timing, His promises.  Those who finally had opportunity to place seeds in the soil now watch them wash away as  rivers of excess run in the fields.

Yesterday on Facebook I posted about being surrounded by "wet green" and received this reply from Marcus Goodyear of The High Calling:
deeply jealous of your wet green grass since we're in a deep drought down here
So again I look to the Lord filled with the questions of a child, not understanding our strange weather patterns, wanting to ask, "Why, Father, why?" but trusting that He sees, and He knows, and He already has a plan.

This morning, fog settled thick around us.  The Lord had words with me.  When I have a moment, later in the day, I will share them here.


15 June 2011

Cataloging Green

green is life
exploding
green borders the road
that takes me home
green shoulders the paths
God sets before me
green marks the way down
to winding waters
green as fresh
as cucumbers first crisp bites
green a soft resting place
for a weary head
green are the fields that nourish
providing food, play, peace
green the background
where colours burst wild

green lush
green lives
green loves
refreshing, renewing
the promise of green yet to come
I pass through days
surrounded
green


We're cataloging colour at TweetSpeak Poetry and the High Calling Focus.  Stop by to read how colour has invaded the words of poets words and the camera lenses of artists today!


05 April 2011

Priceless


It cannot be wrapped
this gift
beyond price

best served fresh
with no invoice
or strings

stronger than steel
intricate and fragile
as spider lace

both vast
and intimate
enfolding and releasing

treasure most precious
whether given
or recieved

freedom, mercy, peace
braided
God breathed

Spirit sealed
holy offering
forgiving and forgiven

Do not judge others, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn others, or it will all come back against you. Forgive others, and you will be forgiven. Give, and you will receive. Your gift will return to you in full—pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, running over, and poured into your lap. The amount you give will determine the amount you get back.  Luke 6:37-38 NLT

I am triple dipping with this post today  - linking to the following:




Stop by Peter Pollock's to read more on Treasure









Visit One Stop Poetry for more Wednesday One Shot poems










Submitting this to the next High Calling Blogs Random Acts of Poetry on Forgiveness



09 November 2010

His call remains the same

L. L. Barkat asked us to write a catalog poem for Random Acts of Poetry. I rarely work for rhymes, but when the Lord provides them I can't refuse.

The Lord is calling His people with a call as true and genuine as He Is, Was and ever will Be.

For Jesus doesn't change—yesterday, today, tomorrow, he's always totally himself. Hebrews 13:8 The Message

He calls to me, He calls to you
beloved come away.
He calls to you, He calls to me
to drop our nets, follow.
He calls to me, He calls to you
let Me untangle every snare.
He calls to you, He calls to me
let this be the day.
He calls to me, He calls to you
in truth there is release.
He calls to you, He calls to me
to walk His narrow way.
He calls to you, He calls to me
find comfort, joy and peace.

His call to all
with ears to hear
clear, simple yet profound
repentant hearts will find Him

if they would but turn around.

Stop by The High Calling Blogs to read what other writers are sharing as Random Acts of Poetry

17 September 2010

Random Acts of Poetry - Where do you come from?

Glynn Young is hosting the next Random Acts of Poetry at The High Calling Blogs. This is what Glynn posted as a prompt:

"Select a poem you first read in high school or college that had an impact on you, that you remember or that you enjoyed, and write a poem about it."

I don't recall which teacher had us reading Robert Frost. I do know that we had to memorize and recite Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening, and I think I could recall it still, word for word, but I was somehow more drawn to his poem The Road Not Taken:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


Here is my attempt to honour Mr. Frost and also tell a tale of my own:

I chose the road less traveled
not a mark left
by father, mother, brother
nor any blood relation
any footprints I could follow
faded down a path I could not choose

Days, months, years passed
and in motion yet I stood
the past a maze of pain
the future unimagined
holding no expectations
as insurance against disappointment

Not at an accidental crossroad
did I stand, but of divine design
all the haze of gray
polarized to black and white
a choice would be made
indifference cast aside

I chose the narrowest of roads
and knew there was no turning back
from darkness chosen
into fresh life born, redeemed
I listened to my Maker’s call
and that indeed made all the difference.

15 September 2010

Looking closer




Claire Burge over at High Calling Blogs challenged us to take a closer look with our cameras and for quite some time, in various ways, God has been asking me to the same.

Look closer. Look deeper. Look sharper. Look through My eyes!

L. E. Fiore blogged here about a new five line Japanese poetry form called gogyohka. This is my first taste:

Am I too blinded
by the vast
to reach the details of His majesty
missing yet another chance
awestruck to worship

I am also linking this post to One Shot Wednesday. Stop by and read the poetry that others have left behind.

24 August 2010

Solace in the rain

I'm letting the sound
of rain
silence tongues
that speak only lies.

Voice of the world
snickers of evil
cry of my own flesh
be still.

Drops hit roof
deck, windows
with rhythm
that surely
matches
that
of God's
own
heart.

A melody that soothes.

A call to seek shelter
under mighty wings
that comfort and restore.

Songs of joy
that overcome
darkness, fear
pain.

Praise
in a downpour
that lifts eyes up.

This was written in response to L. L. Barkat's Random Acts of Poetry prompt at High Calling Blogs.

30 July 2010

A High Calling

HighCallingBlogs.com Christian Blog Network
From the time I was a young girl words have delighted me; the look of them, the sound of them, the ways I could fit them together like puzzle pieces. I cannot remember a time when I did not have the desire to write. As a reader, I would cherish books not merely for content but for the way the words played off each other.

During all the years that I walked without knowing the Lord's hand was upon me, I used my words to serve my flesh and the world. With incredible patience, He called and waited and called again. When I stopped running from His voice and surrendered I knew He would have a use for my words, and that He would be the One Who would provide them.

I remember the day I received Christ, driving alone in my car, confessing out loud "Lord, if you want me to write about this journey, give me the words. If You do not, I will be silent."

He Was and Is as always, faithful, and the words continue to come.

My desire has been to use the gifts He has given for Kingdom purposes, indeed a High Calling.

I began blogging in January of 2008 to share moments of the short-term mission trip we took to Uganda. I have connected with many in the family of faith through Christian sites, writing for Exemplify Online and Internet Cafe Devotions. Through it all, His call remains, to glorify His name.

When 2010 began the Lord told me this would be for me a year of acceleration and a year to break free of the fear of man. I knew He was asking me to continue to speak out for Him without worrying about who might want to read the words. We are more than halfway through this year, and He has led me to join The High Calling Blogs Network. I felt at home immediately, among many I already know and others I look forward to meeting. Together we can support, encourage and remind each other that as scribes we are surrendered to the One Who never stops calling.

May it be said of us:

My heart is overflowing with a good theme; I recite my composition concerning the King; My tongue is the pen of a ready writer. Psalm 45:1 NKJV

In my journaling time this morning, this is what my Lord shared with me:

Thank you for standing for Me - even when your flesh would rather run. Can you see, little one, how this indeed is helping you walk out of the prison of "the fear of man"?

I told you this would be the year, and I Am true to My words.

Continue to stretch out your wings, for when you are truly free in Me, nothing will be able to hold you.

Continue to surrender your wings to Me as I shape you into a vessel prefected for My purposes.

Continue to spread out your wings to touch others with the words I give you, spoken or written - you are a pen in My hand.

Continue to have those wings in a ready position p for when the currents and winds of My Spirit flow beneath you - you will fly, child, wait and see how you will fly.

Free in Me - free to be
giving up all - to gain all
to live like an eagle
unafraid of falling
created to see
surrendered to Me
released from the bondage
of sin and flesh
free

28 July 2010

Real Stuff - Real People

As a member of the High Calling Blogs Network I am participating in the "You Are Real" community writing project. Here's how it was described:

Over the next week, you’re invited to write guest posts on a network-friend’s site to describe how online life has been (or not been) an experience with becoming real to one another. Your story may involve the delight of meeting someone in person, or it may illustrate that even though you haven’t met, you can nevertheless become real to one another. We encourage swapping posts as a fun way to demonstrate friendship and community, though you’re welcome to post something on this topic only on your own site.
I am guest posting over at Sandra Heska King's blog and hosting Sandy here today. I believe it was likely God, by His Spirit Who lead me to click over to Sandy's blog the first time and I've been a fan ever since. I'm trusting that we will continue to learn more about each other in the days ahead, and grow in relationship in a very real way.


Sandra (AKA Sandy or even Snady, the result of a typo that stuck) lives in Michigan in the same 150-year-old farmhouse her husband grew up in. She is mom to two grown adopted children and grandma to Gracee and Lillee. Snady is a passionate chocolate lover, Detroit Tigers fan, Bible teacher and inspirational writer who still keeps her nursing license intact. She maintains two blogs, The Write Pursuit (http://thewritepursuit.blogspot.com/) and Beholding God (http://sandraking-beholding-god.blogspot.com/). You can also find her on Twitter and Facebook

And now ---- Here's Sandy:

Real Stuff--Real People.

“One’s real life is so often the life that one does not lead.” ~ Oscar Wilde

Yesterday a friend told me about some phone calls her 15-year-old granddaughter received on her cell phone. Stuff like, “I’m going to cut your boobs off.” He called the home phone as well.

For the record, our answering machine collected several messages like that directed to our daughter years ago. We took the machine down to the sheriff’s department, but they couldn’t do much except send a deputy to talk to a boy my daughter named as a possible culprit. The calls stopped.

Anyway, my friend is convinced it’s some online someone. She ranted about the evils of Facebook and other social sites. And how nobody should share any of their lives with strangers. Especially online strangers. It’s only asking for trouble.

I didn’t tell her I could be in a heap of trouble. But that’s not been my experience.

Oh, and for the record, our experience happened before Facebook. Maybe even before we had a computer.

Anyway.

I met Diana in an online MT (medical transcription) help forum. We soon discovered we worked for the same company and even lived in the same state. About an hour and a half away. We arranged a meeting at the Rainforest Café and clicked. We spent hours talking. I shared stuff I’d never even told family. And we found we had much in common—like adoption. We roomed together at conferences in Atlanta, Boston, and Honolulu. Shared barrels of laughs. And remain BFFs even though she now lives in northern Arizona where her husband pastors a little church in Holbrook.

Real stuff. Real people.

Jeannine also frequented that same forum. When she mentioned her son had been sent to Afghanistan, a small group of us from across the country and Canada set up a rotating schedule to send a monthly care package. Jeannine and I have also become great friends though we’ve never met in person. We’ve prayed each other through many a crisis and even share the same wedding anniversary. She’s in New Jersey.

Real stuff. Real people.

And then there’s Melinda. We connected on Twitter. I think. Her daughter and my granddaughter are the same age. We laugh and tease and share deep stuff and pray for each other. She’s very real, and we will meet one day—maybe somewhere between Florida and Michigan. Like maybe Tennessee where we have mutual online friends.

Real stuff. Real people.

And there are others, intergenerational—established friendships, reconnected friendships, developing friendships. With school classmates and writers and bloggers and those of High Calling. Folks who inspire and encourage. Who stretch me and push me into zones of discomfort. Who aren’t afraid to confront and correct.

Friendships of substance. Not of surface. And if asked how I am, I can tell the truth.

I don’t remember how I connected with Karin. A friend of a friend? A bloggy stumble? Does it matter? I love her Jesus heart and her photo art. How she shares His light.

I think some of my virtual friends are more real than some of my real friends.

I think I’m more real with some of my virtual friends than some of my real friends.

I’m not sure why. Maybe because most of my online friends are writers of some sort. We communicate better in writing. We understand each other. Maybe it’s easier to undress our thoughts and feelings when nobody is looking. To drop the covers. To take a risk.

Most of my friends are also fireflies, like Karin, chasing after the Light. Maybe there is something more powerful about connecting heart-to-heart and light-to-light than eye-to-eye and hand-to-hand. Or at least in that order.

What I do know is that I’ve found real in what I would have missed in the real. In whom I might have bypassed on sight. Like a blind person who falls in love. And then receives sight.

And even more interesting. I think because of the real in the virtual, I’m becoming real in the real.

And I’m pretty sure none of my friends are ax murderers.

Real stuff. Real people.

Family.

“I thank my God every time I remember you.” Philippians 1:3

Stop over at High Calling Blogs to read the posts of everyone who particpated in this project.


02 July 2010

Spoonful of summer


Stopping briefly
to soak in sun
summer trust runs high

The touch
weightless, still
a moment gone
silently as it came

The kiss of the Spirit
received, cherished
captured

This poem was written in reponse to L. L. Barkat's Random Acts of Poetry prompt A Tablespoon of Summer at The High Calling Blogs.