Broken By Abortion, Fixed By Jesus

In His Likeness

That our bodies are just an approximation of the heavenly reality of Jesus' body, God's body, that we were made in His likeness, but of flesh rather than spirit, the best that could be concocted using the materials at hand.  (yet still loved by our Maker, the clay having been lovingly formed by the potter.)  

That our tabernacle was a replica of a heavenly tabernacle; our worship, our songs, our beauty, all shadows and copies of the true heavenly things, that the spirit world is the real world, and this world of decay and flesh is shadow.

For Christ has not entered the holy places made with hands, which are copies of the true, but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us;  (Hebrews 9:24)

Gentle Knocking

As soon as I invited Jesus to enter my heart I recognized that He had been knocking at the door of my heart for a long long time. I didn't know what that knocking was until I responded to it, then I realized that the knocking was a warm, familiar old friend. Jesus, Savior, standing like a stranger in the night, out in the rain - as if my window were so important that anyone would want to stand under it - serenading me with his gentle, unperturbed, patient silence, simply waiting for me to be ready.

Lately I have become attuned to a new knocking at the door of my heart, and I know exactly what it is. I recognize in it an invitation from the Holy Spirit to worship. I have become attuned to how I postpone responding to this precious invitation, how I distract myself with competing activities, how I wait for the knocking to settle down and leave me alone, how I check in later and am relieved that the one at the door has finally given up and gone home.

But somehow the knocking is coming into focus, emerging from a fog of vagueness into the forefront of my thoughts. I can talk about it now. It is a phenomenon now, a subject to write about, an issue to bring up in conversation. I am turning to face it, I am walking toward the door. I am turning the knob, I am inviting the Holy Spirit in for a nice leisurely visit. I am putting aside my knitting, switching off the TV and tuning in to what my "guest" has to say. Holy Spirit says, "Worship more!" And in that message I also recognize an answer to prayer.

How many times have I asked the Lord to show me His heart? How many times have I asked the Holy Spirit to lead and guide me, to set my feet in the right direction? How many times have I asked for more faith, a deeper walk? Any number of prayers have come forth from my mouth, and this invitation is the answer. I will grow more faith, walk closer to the Lord, find relief from the stresses, have greater clarity and certainty about God's will for me, if I just spend more time in worship. The reward is there. The answers are there.

Do I have the stamina to stay awake in the garden, to stand vigil with my Lord as He prays? Do I have enough desire to commune with my God to fight off inertia, to overcome my laziness, and go that strange new path with no tools, no computer, no pencil and paper even, no guitar or cell phone, just my heart of worship?

Radio Death

The enemy of Life is reveling in the current discussion of the tomb of Christ that was "discovered" by film director James Cameron. Jerry and I were driving home last night listening to a radio host who was speaking in tones of conciliation and peace, but this man's words were an assault on the Truth of the Kingdom of God. "Wouldn't it be a good thing to know that Jesus didn't resurrect as a body, that he really was just a good man, and human like us?" Wouldn't it bring us closer to Jesus to know that he had a wife and child?"

As we were listening, suddenly a horrifying voice, clearly not the voice of the radio host, but a voice alongside him, uttered a garbled gutteral vocalization, not in recognizable language, but in a horrific sort of devilish laughter. It sent shivers down our spines. We had not a single moment's doubt whose voice it was. We immediately switched off the radio and had to pray away the creeping sense of evil that came through the airwaves.

How the devil loves it when the world denies the divinity of our Lord. I have heard him raising his awful noise - I was going to say rejoicing, but what joy does the devil know? He knows only the cruel, tearing pleasure of our destruction and death, which are the fruit of such lies as are being perpetrated by those who seek to disprove the Lordship of Jesus.

Little Curve-Ball

Having just learned that my daughter is going to have a child, my whole world has been turned on its head. Often when she has gotten herself into trouble she says, "Mommy, I have to make all the same mistakes you made."

She has indeed gone in many of the foolish directions I did at her age, and come back from them, by the grace of God. But one mistake she is not making is that she would never consider having an abortion as I did, praise God. She is going to have her baby. She is going to marry Eddie and change her life to accommodate this new life growing within her. To me this feels like such a vindication for my error, such a victory for life and its Author, such a slap in the face for the enemy of Life. Thank you Father that I will have a chance to honor the life of this child.

While there is much to say about this, I say today, Glory to You, Father, that my family ties with the spirit of the unwanted child are severed in the precious name of Jesus.

The Gift of Giving

When I worked in a flower shop I found that there were flowers that were fresh on Saturday, but wouldn't make it through Sunday to be fresh still on Monday. So when I joined my church I asked a local flower shop if they would donate such flowers for our Sunday morning worship. This shop agreed to do so, and has been faithful to donate every Sunday for almost three years, and I have the dear pleasure of preparing a small fresh arrangement for Sunday services each week.

One Sunday I sat in church during services and gazed at the lovely flowers I'd arranged with such care. I was filled with joy to be able to worship the Lord in this way. I said to God in my mind, "I am so happy to be able to give you this gift!"

God answered me that day most clearly. He said, "You give me this gift? Don't you mean that I give you this gift?" I could only answer, "Yes, Father. You give to me, that I may give back to you."

Truly, even our praise of God is by His grace and is a gift from Him. As the hymn says, "Thou must light the flame, or never can my love be warmed to praise."

"Lord, my spirit's ardent feelings vainly would my lips express.
Low before thy footstool kneeling, deign thy suppliant's prayer to bless;
Let thy grace, my soul's chief treasure, Love's pure flame within me raise;
And, since words can never measure, let my life show forth thy praise!"

at the buffet

J: tell you what - when we get to the wedding feast in heaven we can meet at the buffet table. i'll be over by the prawns.

M: not sure there are gonna be prawns at the wedding feast buffet table in heaven. they're not kosher.

J: hmmm...

M: maybe we can meet at the salmon filet?

J: no, we'll meet at the prawns. in heaven the prawns are kosher.

Blessings from Rejection

After almost three years in Yeshua I am beginning to discover the boldness to speak up and speak out about Yeshua, knowing that those I speak to may reject me, not me but Yeshua in me. My skin is not yet such a tough rhino hide or perhaps my conviction is not so strong yet, that I do not feel a sting, not for my own sake, but for the tender and precious truth that falls to the ground unheeded. By now I'm past the point of returning to that safe demeanor that seeks only to make the people around me comfortable. I cause discomfort now.
With boldness comes rejection.
With rejection comes blessing.
Look at 1Peter 4:14:
"If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you."
I am privileged to be able to say that I HAVE FELT THAT SPIRIT OF GLORY RESTING ON ME!!!!
Please pray for these Jews who have recently rejected my words pointing them to the Gospel:
Sonya
Sheryl
Ruth
Jewish guy on the street.