Monday, December 8, 2008

Abba's hands....

It was in the way his eyes held me in their gentle blue gaze. That was my first memory of Abba. It was the way only goodness shown from their depths. I wonder how I could remember something so long ago, yet how could I forget? You held me so safely in your arms when I was child. I remember staring at the sky then, for hours, or at least the minutes seemed like hours. That's the way it is when you are a child. I remember staring at the midnight sky, nearly frightened at it's darkness, until you showed me the stars. I never left your arms. It was a game we played. Hide and seek, You did the seeking, I did the hiding and it always ended in one place. In your arms.

I remember running barefoot. You know you are absolutely childlike when the dark soil of the earth's foundations squishes between your toes and it brings giggles of delight from your mouth. Freedom comes in the place of dirt and smiles, of grime and sun-kissed cheeks. I remember watching how you moved and talked, wanting to be like you in everything. It was just that you were perfect, you were better than anyone else. You were more fun, more exciting and more beautiful.

I saw the way you laughed, and tried to laugh like you. I saw the way you made things with your hands and tried to do it too. I saw the way you talked to the puppies, and wanted to do it too. I saw the way you ran, and tripped in attempt to follow. You scooped me up and carried me away with you. I could speak a thousands words, yet it only took one from you mouth to leave me standing in speechless awe. I could stare for hours into your eyes, and never grow tired of their depth.

Where did my wonder go? Where did the innocent delight go? Where did abandonment go? Where did my eyes like yours go? Where did my laugh like yours go? Why do I leave your gaze?
Why do I run after the flowers, without calling for you to come see?

I need your hands Abba, to grab mine and lead me back. I need your hands Abba, to give me delight once more. I need our hands Abba, to give me comfort, to give me protection. Will you surround me now? In this place of absolute brokenness.

This child is reaching for your hands....yearning for you touch...for your presence.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Thankfulness...and friends.


I never thought I would be homesick. This is crazy new sensation for a girl who has been completely happy and content away from home all semester. I don't know what to do with myself. You see my home was decorated for christmas, the lights were twinkling, the fire blazing, the hot chocolate strongly beckoning...it was extremly hard to leave Throckmorton this evening. I just wanted to cuddle up in blanket on the couch with my mom and talk the hours away into the night. I haven't wanted to do that in a good long while.
I discovered somethings about myself during this thanksgiving break. I love and appreciate my family more than I thought, and painfully realized I didn't love and appreciate them as much as they deserve. It has been a beautiful journey of discovering thankfulness this week. I thought I knew what thankfulness was, but God said no, I'm the one who defines thankfulness. I needed a good dose of humility as well.
I discovered a lot of things this week; a lot about how I view things compared to how things truly are. I was disappointed in a lot of ways, but refreshed in discovering Truth. I was blessed by a lot peace and rest....more than likely more rest than anything.

to be continued...

Suddenly, I became aware of the curious lack of Natasha in my personality. Likely because a 21 year old hooligan with an unruly bit of no-shave scruff has taken control of the keyboard. Thanksgiving was marvelous. Approximately 2 cups of Jell-o pudding salad and some macaroni and cheese found themselves semi-permanently located in my stomach. The turkey and stuffing lovingly prepared by the delicatessen workers at Kroger received lodging in my left leg (previously emptied in preparation). The pain started approximately 15 minutes later: it hurts so good. A load of dishes or two later, we all slipped into a carbohydrate-induced comatic state.

As I slowly regained consciousness after a long and extremely comfortable nap, the thoughts crossed my mind: "I hope we have cereal left at my house." This profound moment led me into musings about the true meaning of Thanksgiving. Surely, it can't only be about the stockings, presents, and carols. The Pilgrims didn't have any of those. But I do have some things to be thankful for. God blessed me with an incredible family who happens to love me a great deal. I got to spend Thanksgiving with a friend who loves Jesus more than food. I slept in my own bed. I spent half a week in a state of continual amazement at God's love. Yeah, I have a good bit to be thankful for. Amen.

to be continued...?

it was good. -Ryan

to be continued...?

I...uh...*laughter*...*more laughter*...made peanut butter balls...that's it. That's it. -Ashley

to be continued...

This Thanksgiving (2008) was the first Thanksgiving in the past four or five years that all four members of my immediate family were together to celebrate thanks. Between Chris and I being in college, parents living in Mexico, Chris living in Japan and expensive air-fare, it's been a while since we've broken bread on the particular holidy. This thanksgiving, we admittedly were some distance from the remainder of our family, but nonetheless, closeness and love were felt in abundance. The addition of a new friend, the Ethiopian Tekle Legese made the holiday complete, as a reminder of the timelessness and unbound bonds of family, life and love in Christ.
Simple fellowship and a complete reprieve from many of the stresses often experienced in "regular life" wrapped the blessing in the guise of a holiday, and as such, we were truly blessed.
I thank God now, as the blessings continue; evidenced to me by being presently surrounded by spectacular friends and siblings in Christ. Praise God! - Bob

Friday, November 7, 2008

The Dream of the Rood


(This is one of my favorite poems from English class this semester! It is was written by the same author as Beowulf...I love it.)


Listen! The choicest of visions I wish to tell,which came as a dream in middle-night,after voice-bearers lay at rest.It seemed that I saw a most wondrous treeborn aloft, wound round by light, brightest of beams. All was that beaconsprinkled with gold. Gems stoodfair at earth's corners; there likewise fiveshone on the shoulder-span.

All there beheld the Angel of God, fair through predestiny. Indeed, that was no wicked one's gallows, but holy souls beheld it there,men over earth, and all this great creation.Wondrous that victory-beam--and I stained with sins,with wounds of disgrace. I saw glory's treehonored with trappings, shining with joys, decked with gold; gems hadwrapped that forest tree worthily round.Yet through that gold I clearly perceivedold strife of wretches, when first it beganto bleed on its right side.

With sorrows most troubled, I feared that fair sight. I saw that doom-beacon turn trappings and hews: sometimes with water wet,drenched with blood's going; sometimes with jewels decked. But lying there long while, I,troubled, beheld the Healer's tree, until I heard its fair voice.Then best wood spoke these words:"It was long since--I yet remember it--that I was hewn at holt's end,moved from my stem. Strong fiends seized me there, worked me for spectacle; cursèd ones lifted me.

On shoulders men bore me there, then fixed me on hill;fiends enough fastened me. Then saw I mankind's Lordcome with great courage when he would mount on me.Then dared I not against the Lord's word bend or break, when I saw earth'sfields shake. All fiendsI could have felled, but I stood fast.The young hero stripped himself--he, God Almighty--strong and stout-minded. He mounted high gallows, bold before many, when he would loose mankind.I shook when that Man clasped me. I dared, still, not bow to earth,fall to earth's fields, but had to stand fast.

Rood was I reared. I lifted a mighty King,Lord of the heavens, dared not to bend. With dark nails they drove me through: on me those sores are seen,open malice-wounds. I dared not scathe anyone.They mocked us both, we two together. All wet with blood I was,poured out from that Man's side, after ghost he gave up.

Much have I born on that hill of fierce fate. I saw the God of hostsharshly stretched out. Darknesses hadwound round with clouds the corpse of the Wielder,bright radiance; a shadow went forth,dark under heaven. All creation wept, King's fall lamented. Christ was on rood.But there eager ones came from afarto that noble one. I beheld all that. Sore was I with sorrows distressed, yet I bent to men's hands,with great zeal willing. They took there Almighty God, lifted him from that grim torment. Those warriors abandoned mestanding all blood-drenched, all wounded with arrows.

They laid there the limb-weary one, stood at his body's head; beheld they there heaven's Lord, and he himself rested there,worn from that great strife. Then they worked him an earth-house, men in the slayer's sight carved it from bright stone,set in it the Wielder of Victories. Then they sang him a sorrow-song,sad in the eventide, when they would go againwith grief from that great Lord. He rested there, with small company.But we there lamenting a good while stood in our places after the warrior's crywent up. Corpse grew cold,fair life-dwelling. Then someone felled usall to the earth. That was a dreadful fate!

Deep in a pit one delved us. Yet there Lord's thanes, friends, learned of me,. . . . . . . . . . .adorned me with silver and gold.Now you may know, loved man of mine,what I, work of baleful ones, have enduredof sore sorrows. Now has the time come when they will honor me far and wide,men over earth, and all this great creation,will pray for themselves to this beacon. On me God's sonsuffered awhile. Therefore I, glorious now, rise under heaven, and I may heal any of those who will reverence me. Once I became hardest of torments,most loathly to men, before I for them,voice-bearers, life's right way opened.

Indeed, Glory's Prince, Heaven's Protector, honored me, then, over holm-wood.Thus he his mother, Mary herself, Almighty God, for all men,also has honored over all woman-kind.

Now I command you, loved man of mine, that you this seeing tell unto men;discover with words that it is glory's beamwhich Almighty God suffered uponfor all mankind's manifold sinsand for the ancient ill-deeds of Adam. Death he tasted there, yet God rose againby his great might, a help unto men.He then rose to heaven. Again sets out hitherinto this Middle-Earth, seeking mankindon Doomsday, the Lord himself, Almighty God, and with him his angels,when he will deem--he holds power of doom--everyone here as he will have earnedfor himself earlier in this brief life.

Nor may there be any unafraid for the words that the Wielder speaks. He asks before multitudes where that one iswho for God's name would gladly tastebitter death, as before he on beam did.And they then are afraid, and few think what they can to Christ's question answer.Nor need there then any be most afraid who ere in his breast bears finest of beacons;but through that rood shall each soulfrom the earth-way enter the kingdom, who with the Wielder thinks yet to dwell.

"I prayed then to that beam with blithe mind,great zeal, where I alone waswith small company. My heart wasimpelled on the forth-way, waited for in each longing-while. For me now life's hope:that I may seek that victory-beamalone more often than all men,honor it well. My desire for thatis much in mind, and my hope of protection reverts to the rood.

I have not now manystrong friends on this earth; they forth hencehave departed from world's joys, have sought themselves glory's King;they live now in heaven with the High-Father, dwell still in glory, and I for myself expect each of my days the time when the Lord's rood,which I here on earth formerly saw,from this loaned life will fetch me awayand bring me then where is much bliss,joy in the heavens, where the Lord's folk is seated at feast, where is bliss everlasting;and set me then where I after maydwell in glory, well with those saintsdelights to enjoy. May he be friend to mewho here on earth earlier died on that gallows-tree for mankind's sins.

He loosed us and life gave,a heavenly home. Hope was renewedwith glory and gladness to those who there burning endured.That Son was victory-fast in that great venture, with might and good-speed, when he with many,vast host of souls, came to God's kingdom,One-Wielder Almighty: bliss to the angelsand all the saints--those who in heavendwelt long in glory--when their Wielder came, Almighty God, where his homeland was.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Jesus.


( I began writing something last summer that I remembered today. I decided to finish it, realizing how timely it was because of a song that God has brought into my life this week. I just wanted to imagine what is would be like if I put myself in the time, in that place, in Jerusalem, near Jesus. What would I do? I'm not sure this is a completely accurate portrayal of what I would be like...I might actually have run the other way instead of towards the cross. But know this spoke to me, even as I wrote it. I wanted to post the words to the song (that is the chorus of the song) too before what I actually wrote.)


May I never lose wonder, the wonder of Cross. May I see it like the first time, standing as a sinner lost. Under thy mercy I'm left speechless, watching wide-eyed at the cost. May I never lose the wonder, the wonder of the Cross. (vicky beeching)


Jesus

It was blood I found first. The streets were deserted, filthy with trash from the angry mob that had passed before me. The stones were smeared with a dark long stain. I knelt, one finger to the street, brushing the still-wet substance. My finger came away a deep red.

I closed my eyes, a terrible pressure tightening my chest, bearing down in a pain that threatened to explode. Full of dread, I rose, following the trail of blood; tears involuntarily dripping down my cheeks. Why were they doing this too him? Why?

I spotted a beggar on the street, hands outstretched. I rushed to him, grateful for someone, anyone to tell me the truth...truth I did not want to hear, but was desperate for none the less.

“What has happened? Where all the people, where is Jesus?”

I nearly shouted at him, the poor man. He cowered and pointed one claw-like hand towards his left. “To Golgotha, my lady. They mean to crucify him.”

I stepped back as if slammed into an iron wall.

No!“How long ago?” I managed to ask in a voice weak and lifeless.

“Only just. The crowd was here two minutes ago.”A small measure of hope pierced my mind.

Perhaps I could reach him in time. I thrust a gold shekel into the ragged man’s hands and took off in a sprint down the cluttered thoroughfare. His cries of gratitude fade amidst the pounding of my own heart.

I didn’t hear the crowd until two hundred yards later. My breath was ragged and lungs bursting, but I pressed on, beginning to pass scattered groups of people.They stared, no doubt surprised to a see a young woman running through the market streets. I ignored them, as the crowd’s roar began to heighten. I reached the first fringes, just as they neared the gates to the city.

“Let me through!” I screamed, weaving through the growing mob.Someone tried to shove me over, but I kept my feet and ducked through four porticoes and slipped through the gate.

Horrendous shouts, the foul stench of unwashed bodies and animal dung filled the air, mingled with dust and sweat.

“Please, I must get through!” I pleaded, pushing now in a frenzy.

I fell to my knees once, the stones scraped through the fine linen of my tunic. It stung violently, but I took no notice, nearly crawling. I found a way to the nearest building and pulled myself up. I pressed forward once more.

The crowd’s faces were full of hideous expectation, as though some spectacular play was about to flash before their eyes. My face no doubt was stricken with grief. I felt dizzy, my vision blurred. Was there anyone who cared?

I was nearly to the outer gate now, the momentum of the crowd was beginning to carry me along with it. The crack of the bullwhip was the first hint that I was drawing close. I knew he had already been beaten. I had seen crucifixions before. I knew what they were doing.My tears had calmed. I knew only one thing. I must see Jesus.

More pushing and pleading and almost near shoving got me fifty feet closer. I could see wooden beams being carried above the crowd’s heads. I covered my mouth to stifle a gasp and rushed headlong into the remaining crowd, until the men carrying the beams came into sight.

Jesus was not there. Hope lashed out with its bitter gust as I suddenly clung to the thought that his sentence had been reversed. But then I saw him, struggling behind the first cross beam, which was being borne by another man.

Someone was carrying his cross!

I swallowed tears of gratitude at the youth, who’s face was pouring with blood. Apparently he had been struck across the forehead. Then I turned my eyes on Jesus.It was the most ghastly of sights. I began to cry once more as I pressed closer, trying to get in step beside him.

His skin was covered in blood, his clothes hung in tatters, sticking to the open gashes and wounds gaping across his back and arms. I covered my mouth in horror as I realized pieces of skin were hanging from his tunic.

His face was still turned away. I knew it must be a horrific sight as well. Floggings disfigured and crippled men for life.

“Jesus...” I whispered, now within ten feet of his labored journey.

His head, glistening with blood, and painfully crowned with a mocking wreath of jagged thorns, turned towards me.

I sobbed in intense anguish as his one good eye, amidst a mangled mass of bloodied flesh stared back at me. The other eye, I saw was swollen shut, a purple lump.

“Jesus.” I breathed, gazing into his eye.

His brutalized appearance vanished as that one eye fixated itself on me. He consumed all other thoughts.It was as if I was being transported back to that time when I first saw him on the temple steps. He’d consumed everything then as well. Every thought, every breath, every movement.

“Jesus...” my voice came out as a pitiful whimper.

I once again saw my life flash before my eyes. Every little detail with startling clarity, yet through it all overwhelming love consumed my being. Like that day on the lake it knocked me to my knees. I wanted to die. If they killed him, I knew my life was over. I could not live without him.

His eyes didn’t leave mine. I saw the pain, the anguish, the weight of a thousands lives, but I saw something else...determination. He was going to see this through, til the end. His last words to me the morning before echoed in my grief ravaged mind.

...I must follow my Father’s will...

I didn’t like this Father he talked about. This powerful being who was making Jesus do such a horrifying thing. I wanted to scream at someone. Anyone. Only a stifled gasp poured from my lips.

“Get up,” said Jesus, in a garbled voice,” This is not the end.”

My eyes gazed at his mutilated face, unable to stand up.

“Get up,” he repeated, and then struggled past me as the soldiers shoved him on.Without knowing how I found myself rising and following, with less urgency than before, but with the same passionate force. In twenty minutes we were outside the city. Numbness had settled around me. I wanted to flee, to escape, yet I wanted to stay. I must stay.

The crosses were being raised on the hill by the time I reached Jesus once more. His screams were the only screams I heard as the nails went through hands and feet of the sentenced men. I was weeping now, beyond control.I stopped within twenty feet, near the edge of the hill, as the cross was raised. All I could see was the blood on his shaking body. I wondered how much more he had left. His eyes met mine once more, even as he shook in agony. I wanted to run again, but I had already fallen to my knees. I would not leave until he breathed his last.

“Why?” I moaned over and over again.Staring into his face, the answer slammed into my chest with a weight heavier than darkness.

...It is for you...

“No!” I screamed,” NO!”I tore my eyes away, unable to look at him any more and covered my face in shame.

Cold dread ripped into me, yet even as it did, warmth flooded my body.

...I love you this much...

The shame faded, receded like the tide going back to the sea.

...you are worth it...

And then I wept for joy. I wanted to stop myself, but couldn’t. Jesus wouldn’t let me

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Week Eight: The Heart of a College Student...be courageous.

" Every place on which the sole of your foot treads, I have given it to you...No man will be able to stand before you all the days of your life. Just as I have been with Moses, I will be with you; I will not fail you or forsake you. Be strong and courageous, for you shall give this people possession of the land which I swore to their fathers to give them. Only be strong and very courageous; be careful to do according to all the law which Moses My servant commanded you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, so that you may have success wherever you go. This book of the law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it; for then you will make your way prosperous and you will have success. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:3, 5-9

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Week Seven: The Heart of a college Student...as a child.


Its back to you and Me.

God is drawing me, pulling me after Him, showing me His heart...showing me my heart. My heart is not the prettiest thing. I don't like having to dig down inside of it. I don't like being shown what motivates me. I don't want to real. But God is not giving me a choice. Like a garden He is walling me in on all sides, hemming my way, giving me no rest, no escape. I have no other option. He wants me, all of me.

He wants me to be His child again, His baby girl. He is beckoning me to come after Him, to play in His garden, to release everything in abandonment, to let nothing worry me. How much can I trust Him?

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Week Four: The Heart of a College Student...I am here to stay.

My beloved, Abba, hit me with a broadside today. Right in the heart, to the depths of my being. I have just spent part of the weekend, nearly five hours of it alone with my bible and worship music, locked in my dorm room. (my roommate was gone for the weekend) I cried, I prayed, I sang, I listened and I waited. He whispered a few things. I felt His presence, but only a small fraction of what I was expecting. I had set everything aside to be with Him, yet as I pressed in, He only seemed to draw Himself farther and farther away. I was soon drained, as realized this was one of those awkward moments, with people, when you are trying to get to know who they are, yet find yourself emotionally exhausted after only an hour of it. I realized with terror I didn't know this Being, this uncreated One, I was crying out to. I didn't know anything about Him. I was trying too hard....

I fell asleep, exhausted. I slept for nearly ten hours straight and woke, still worn out. Yet I got up, prepared for church and then pulled out my bible...one last time. I know you can't always trust what happens when you just open the bible up to where its pages fall. God loves to blow our minds however, cause there on the pages, in the middle of Songs of Songs was an amazing verse...

"By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not. I said,' I will rise now, and go about the city; in the streets and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not.' The watchmen that go about the city found me; To whom I said,' Saw ye him whom my soul loveth? " Songs of Songs 3:1-2

My beloved, wanted me to find Him in the places where the people are, not shut away in my room, at least for this time, this was the way He wanted me to go. He was going to show His love to me through the "city streets" and the "broad ways."

I went to church expecting Him. And beginning with college park all the way to main service of church He began moving in small ways. From the words of Pastor Keith, to my friend's smiles. And then came the worship service. Every single word hit my like a sledge hammer.

I couldn't stand, as His words poured into my heart.

ITS NOT ABOUT WHAT YOU CAN GET FROM ME, IT'S ABOUT WHAT YOU CAN GIVE.

I realized how utterly futile my attempts at loving God had been, I only wanted Him to make me feel good, even during those quiet, alone times, it was still focused on what He could give me. My attitude could not allow His presence, because a wall was between us.

How utterly wretched and suddenly relieved I felt. I was horrible, I was grieving His heart, yet now I can stop trying. God did it all. He gave me His spirit, He adopted me as His child, He loves me as His bride. All I can give is His. There is no other reality.

I worshiped with more abandon than I have in months. There was no other. And then He began speaking to me to love my friends. I then realized in loving those around me, lavishing my love on my friends, I was indeed loving my Beautiful Lover. Suddenly I had to love them, no matter what...because I was loving Him.

...and that is where I am. Here is where I stay.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Second & Third Week: The heart of a College Student...the adventure continues

I've discovered listening. Listening to God, listening to people, listening to creation. What beauty God shows in the quiet. All my efforts to be heard fade, all the emotions, die out, in the obedience of sitting still to be in His presence.

My days of college have indeed been full of listening. Listening to instructors, friends, music and the ever faithful tower off-time tower bell near the ACU's bible building. I love that old thing. My schedule is smoothing out into a steady cadence of classes, studying, building relationships, church and prayer. I've decided for the this month at least I am not going work, or get involved anything other than my classes and pouring into the lives of the beautiful people around me. The beauty of trust is enveloping me with sweet surrender. I feel so humbled and unworthy though at times that God is faithful, though I am not.

Every morning brings me a little closer to His heart, even in the times I've felt extremely far, and they have come...even within the few short weeks I've been here. But the strength of fellowship is building my faith. God is already surrounding me with an incredible circle of brothers and sisters. I'm blown away how HE showers love around me.

My classes are going good. Amidst growing challenges I am finding peace and rest...even when my body does not feel exactly rested. One more day and then I have the weekend.

And that about sums up this time of my life, though I really have only scratched the surface of the ocean God has dropped me into. I wish I could capture every moment, every little word, every discovery, every face into a multi-layered picture. It would be beautiful beyond words.

...and so my adventure continues...

Sunday, August 31, 2008

First week: The heart of a college student....ACU 101

So I could go on and on about what this beautiful campus looks like, what the people are like, what this city is like, what my classes are like, what I've done, who I've met, how I feel...but I'm not gonna do that here

I have learned to love. This is what I have done. This is what I becoming. Within a week I am completely different from who I was the week before. Literally....supernaturally. God has brought me to this place for such a time as this. Every moment has confirmed and is confirming it. He has brought me to love here, and be loved.

God has blown me away with what He is pulling out of me right now. I never realized there was such beauty, and it is all coming straight from Him. The foundations my feet stand upon are proving strong. God is shaping my sight, forming my words and sharpening my ears.

We are a people of love, created for love, saved by love...

This new world I have entered is all about loving people. That is all my life consists of at the moment. As for everything else...well it all just falls into place.

So if you ask what I'm doing right now, what I've experience....a new world, as seen through God's eyes.

I always said I wanted adventure....

Thursday, August 14, 2008

An excerpt from Red Moon Rising...

(from an amazing book I'm reading right now!)


So this guy comes up to me and says,” What’s the vision? What’s the big idea?” I open my mouth and words come out like this...


The vision?
The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.
The vision is an army of young people. You see bones? I see an army.
And they are FREE from materialism.
They laugh at 9-5 prisons.
They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday.
They wouldn’t even notice.
They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the West was won.
They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations. They need no passport. People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence.
They are free yet they are slaves the hurting and dirty and dying.

What is the vision?

The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes. It makes children laugh and adults angry. It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars. It scorns the good and strains for the best. It is dangerously pure. Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation. It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games.
This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause.
A million times a day its soldiers
choose to lose
that they might one day win
the great “Well done,” of faithful sons and daughters.
Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night.
They don’t need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards
and hear the crowds chanting again and again:” COME ON!”
And this is the sound of the underground
The whisper of history in the making
Foundations shaking
Revolutionaries dreaming once again
Mystery is scheming in whispers
Conspiracy is breathing...
This is the sound of the underground
And the army is discipl(in)ed.
Young people who beat their bodies into submission.
Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms.
The tattoo on their back boasts,” For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”
Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes.
Winners.
Martyrs.
Who can stop them?
Can hormones hold them back?
Can failure succeed?
Can fear scare them or death kill them?
And the generation prays
like a dying man
with groans beyond talking
with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and
with great barrow loads of laughter!
Waiting. Watching: 24-7-365
Whatever it takes they will give;
Breaking the rules
Shaking mediocrity from its cozy little hide.
Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs,
Laughing at labels, fasting essentials.
The advertisers cannot mold them.
Hollywood cannot hold them.
Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties
Before the cockerel cries
They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive inside.
On the outside? They hardly care.
They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide.
Would they surrender their image or their popularity?
They would lay down their very lives – swap seats with the man on death row – guilty as hell.
A throne for an electric chair.
With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days, they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.
Their DNA chooses JESUS (He breathes out, they breathe in.)
Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus.
Their words make demons scream in shopping centers.
Don’t you hear them coming?
Herald the weirdos!
Summon the losers and the freaks.
Here comes the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes.
They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension.
Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.
And this vision will be. It will come to pass; it will come easily; it will come soon.
How do I know? Because this is the longing of creation itself, the groaning of the Spirit, the very dream of God.
My tomorrow is his today.
My distant hope is his 3-D.
And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous resounding, bone-shaking great “Amen!” from countless angels, from heroes of the faith, from Christ himself. And He is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.
Guaranteed.

(Red Moon Rising by Peter Greig)

Monday, August 4, 2008

Summer's almost gone...


The scent of summer clings to my skin, like a warmy balmy breeze. Its a scent immersed in laughter, smiles and voices of dear family and friends. The sounds and images dance fresh through my mind. Bittersweet moments, lingering goodbyes, last looks, long hugs. I wish time would hold still, just to contain the richness of all these passing, precious memories. To remain still, however, would only hold back the beautiful memories to come.
Summer. Vibrant life. Pulsating heated passion. Glowing inspirations. The heartbeat of heaven has grown strong this summer in my soul. But the heat of the a noonday sun is slipping down into the cool of evening. The heartbeat is evening out into a steady rythmn. A rythmn perhaps even deeper than the exciting, wildness of the first.
Less than two weeks left, before summer ends and halls and pathways of a new world open their unfamiliar doors. I'm ready.

saying goodbye to summer...










































































Sunday, July 27, 2008

No Rest

...another song I wrote this year.

No REST

My soul is ravished by Your thoughts
My heart cannot find its rest
You said to wait up on Your time
I'll wait until You show Your face

You've stolen my heart
Therefore I have no peace
I'm torn apart
It hurts just to speak

You have ripped my world apart
I cannot breath without You
Every love I've had
Is nothing compared to You

You won't relent
I cannot escape this time
Shake my life
There is no better love

Shake my life
Won't You break my life
Give me no rest
I cannot live without Your love.


[written by Natasha Fowler, April 08]

Monday, July 14, 2008

You are always good...


Where You go, I go
What You say, I say, God
And What You pray, I pray

Where You go, I go
What You say I say, God
And What You pray,I pray

Cause Jesus only did
What He saw You do
He would only say
What He heard You speak
And He would only move
When He felt You leave
Following Your heart
Following Your Spirit

So how can I expect to walk without You
When every move that Jesus made was in surrender
I will not begin to live withou You
For You alone are worthy
You are always good

Where You go, I go
What You say, I say, God
And What You pray, I pray

Where You go, I go
What You say, I say, God
And What You pray, I pray

The world sees and still forgets
We will not forget who You are
And what You have done for us
What You have done for us

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

...a love song.



Will You?

Will You stay forever?
Will you be my lover?
Will You walk next to me?
Gently like a brother.
Will Your gaze be at me?
Will you love no other?
Will You see yourself in me?
Let me be your father.

For you are My child
For you are My bride
For you are My child
you are My bride

Will You say I'm beautiful?
Will you be my daughter?
Will You always hold me?
Softly like a mother.
Will You dance this song with me?
Will you wait forever?
Will You melt my heart in love?
Let Me be your warrior.

For you are My child.
For you are My bride.
For you are My child.
you are My bride.

Say I'm lovely...
...you are worthy.
Say I'm perfect...
...you are holy.
Say You want me...
...I have made you.

Will You say I'm lovely?
I will say your worthy.


Written by Natasha Fowler, March 2008.

Monday, April 21, 2008

...I seek the One my soul loves.

I've always loved the Song of Songs, but this week I began reading differently and with more purpose than I ever had before. I sought to see it directly as God speaking to me, and me to Him. Before I saw it only as the bride of Christ speaking to Jesus, the groom, but I have now put myself in that place as the "bride"...the shepherd girl...
...words cannot describe where God is taking me now. I've been reading chapters 1-3 at the moment, over and over again.

Me to God: Your oils are a pleasing fragrance, Your name is like purified oil; therefore draw me after you and let us run together!

God to me: How beautiful you are my darling. how beautiful your are! Your eyes are like doves.

Me to God: Like an apple among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the young men. In his shade I take great delight and sit down....and his fruit is sweet to my taste.

God to Me: O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the secret place of the steep pathway, let me see your form, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet and your form is lovely.

Me to God: On my bed night after night I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him but did not find him. I must arise now and god about the city; in the streets and in the squares I must seek him whom my soul loves. I sought him but did not find him.

...why? I love this ending verse."I sought him but did not find him." Why does God hide himself? He hides himself so that I will seek him, because if he was always present, always giving attention to my need I would take his love for granted. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder."
He draws away, so I will draw towards him, which is the greatest of delights, both in my "seeking" and in his "being sought after." I want this go down into my deepest pores, into my gut, until I weep with undying devotion and desperation for his presence.

"....when I found him whom my soul loves; I held on to him and would not let him go."

Friday, April 11, 2008

Freedom!!!!

Two things God has me focused on: Joan or Arc & Nehemiah

I love of Joan of Arc, she inspires me. What would this modern world do if someone of her character and vision appeared demanding justice? She was only a peasant, unlearned, and even timid, how did she become general? I know the story, but still it's a bit mystifying.

We could use some more Joan of Arcs.

What is it like to rarely question whether or not God is speaking to you? Joan didn't, she always knew beforehand what would happen, trusted completely in God, and walked calmly through the troubles around...even to her death. Talk about having faith in God's will!
This has me searching my own heart right now, wishing I had such bold courage, and causing great turmoil in my sleep. Literally for two nights after I watched some clips from the 1999 Joan of Arc film, I could not sleep. Something deep was stirred in my spirit. It weirded me out at first. I was both miserable and happy all at once.

We need some more Joan of Arcs.

I believe God is stirring it up, as we enter into these days of spiritual upheaval and battle. He wants Joan of Arcs, young people, to step out and be generals. Someone has got to do, 'cause without it our world hurtling at a rapid pace toward complete destruction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Along with all this, I have also been reading feverishly through the book of Nehemiah. I'm finding how very important it is to confess the sins of our fathers, and to be prepared for battle, even as we build. I will perhaps go deeper into this, because I know I will be stuck in this book for a while, but for now I just wanted to post the scriptures that are jumping out on the page at me. In fact I've written them out and stapled them to the walls of my bedroom.

"Let Your ear now, be attentive and Your eyes open to hear the prayer of Your servant, which I am praying for You now, day and night on behalf of the sons of Israel, Your servants, confessing the sing of the sons of Israel which we have sinned against You; I and my father's house have sinned.
"We have acted very corruptly against You and have not kept the commandments, nor the statutes, nor the ordinances which You commanded Your servant Moses.
Remember the world which You commanded Your servant Moses saying," If you are unfaithful I will scatter you among the peoples but if you return to Me and keep My commandments and do them though those of you who have been scattered were in the most remote part of the heavens, I will gather them from there and will bring them to the place where I have chosen to cause My name to dwell.
They are Your servants and Your people whom You redeemed by Your great power and by Your strong hand. O Lord, I beseech You, may Your ear be attentive to the prayer of Your servant and the prayers of Your servants who delight to revere Your name..."
Nehemiah 1:6-11

And I found this second verse very interesting:

"From that day on, half of my servants carried on the work while half of them held spears, the shields, the bows and the breastplates; and the captains were behind the whole house of Judah. Those who were rebuilding the wall and those who carried burdens took their load with one hand doing the work and the other holding a weapon."
Nehemiah 4:16-17

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Take my breath away...



It's all in the way
That You look at me
It's all in the way
That You look at me
It's all in the way
That You look at me
It takes my breath away
It takes my breath away
It takes my breath away

Jesus, Savior, Lover of all
Hold me, gently
Whisper to my heart

It's all in the way
That You smile at me
It's all in the way
That You smile at me
It's all in the way
That You smile at me
It takes my breath away
It takes my breath away
It takes my breath away

Jesus, Messiah, King to all
Touch me, softly
Dance through my heart

It takes my breath away
It takes my breath away
It takes my breath away

Dance with me tonight, hold me in Your arms. ♥

Sunday, March 9, 2008

A window.


It's nearly midnight. A blissful rain is pouring down outside my bedroom window. The dark peacefulness of night surrounds the house. I don't think I've ever been as at peace and serene as I am at this moment. You see all my life I feel like I've been hitting my head against closed doors...well, for the most part that is. I know a lot times, it just me keeping the door shut myself, or on the other hand not allowing it to open at all. Today though something shifted in my soul. It was so easy, so normal, so unnoticeable I could have missed it...and I really I must have for I don't know when or how it happened, it just has. All day long I've felt it. And no, it is not just the beautiful spring weather or the good book I'm reading. Ever since the new year I've felt the change coming. I'm slipping away into something new. And yet like I said before, it's so gradual...without realizing it I'm suddenly different, and it's a greater different, than the different I've been before.

A window has opened...

The other night I had a dream. The first dream I've had in months that I actually remember...and unfortunately all I remember is the end of my dream. But that I'm even remembering my dreams is fantastic a phenomenon in itself.
I don't know why God took away my ability to remember dreams. It is just a season I know. Perhaps the dreams He wanted to give me I wasn't ready to cope with a few months ago. I think He wanted me to believe without seeing for a while. Still suddenly, I feel the dreams are returning...

A window has opened...

I suddenly want to write, something I have not been able to do in months either. It was like something stood in my way every time I tried. Holding me back, blocking my inspiration, smothering my words, dousing my passion. Tonight, I feel story burning on my fingertips, and if it were not already midnight, if I were not tired and if tomorrow was not a work day, I would be writing as we speak. But my eyelids are heavy, and I want to be silent and listen to the rain.

A window has opened...

Hunger is boring a hole in my heart. Hunger for the Word, for God's people, for prayer, for diligence, and most of all, for delight in the Lord's presence. It is eating its way through my soul, separating, dividing and restoring. Before, I yearned and prayed for such hunger, but it only came out as trite obedience. At times I've wanted to give up, yet how I've clung to faithfulness.
I feel so different. It is not visible, I'm not emotional nor excited tonight. It's just another day, another sunday, another night...but something is different.

And it's not over, not even close...some kind of new journey is beginning.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Finding rest.


My spirit has been stirred this week. I know a lot is being stirred and fired up in the Spirit anyway right now and that gets me excited. A fire swept across the country north of my town a couple nights ago. It was so windy, the firemen could not get it out until nearly midnight, and even then it smoldered way into the next day. I find this strangely prophetic. Fires are being let loose everywhere in the supernatural right now. A shift has begun, the wind is blowing hard, letting loose a new torrent of fire. But despite all this intensity, I finding a strange sense of rest and peace at the moment. It's like the more intense it gets, the more peaceful I feel. I can see hardly two months ahead of me in the future right now; a lot is up in the air. (as it has always been) But the air around me is changing even. I'm not anxious or worried. I don't even act the same. I am simply full of wonder at what God is doing in my life and the lives of others. That brings me the sweetest assurance. In the midst of the fire, I'm finding a beautiful God...and our love story is beginning to make my head swim.

Everywhere I've turned lately, His love is being poured out to me. First through a book I read a couple weeks ago, through His word, through words of other people...and strangely enough I watched a movie last night that had a line in it that hit me full force in the face. It is from City of Angels: "I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss from her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it. One. "

That is why I'm breathing right now...it's incredible, God refuses to spend eternity without His bride. I'm overwhelmed. I just rest...in sleeping, in waking, in doing....I just rest in this powerful love.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

How long, O Lord?

"How long, O Lord?
Will You forget me forever?
How long will You hide Your face from me?
How long shall I take counsel in my soul,
having sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long will my enemy be exalted over me?
Consider and answer me, O Lord my God;
enlighten my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death,
and my enemy will say, " I have overcome him,"
and my adversaries will rejoice when I am shaken.
But I have trusted in Your lovingkindness;
my heart shall rejoice in Your salvation.
I will sing to the Lord,
because He has dealt bountifully with me."

~ Psalm 13 ~


Sunday, February 10, 2008

Here it's You and me alone, God.


Everything Michael did had purpose. She thought of her own life and how meaningless and miserable it had been before him. Her very reason to be alive depended on him. And Michael depended on the earth, the rain, the warmth of the sun. And his God. Especially his God.
I'd be dead by now if Michael hadn't come back for me. I'd be rotting in a shallow, unmarked grave.
She was consumed with gratitude and filled with an aching humility that this man loved. Why of all the other women of the world, had he chosen her? She was so undeserving. It was inconceivable.
But I am glad, so glad he did. And I'll never again do anything to make him sorry. Oh, God I swear...
A sweet fragrance filled the darkened cabin, a fragrance that defied definition. She filled her lungs with it, so heady and wonderful. What was it? Where did it come from? Her mind whirled with words and phrases Michael had read to her over the past weeks and even before that, words she thought she had never heard but had somehow found their way into the deepest part of her, somewhere inside, a place she'd been unable to close off.
And then a still, quiet voice filled the room.
I am.
Angel sat up abruptly, eyes wide open. She looked around the cabin, but there was no one there other than Michael, who lay sleeping deeply beside her. Who had spoken? She felt fear sweep through her, and then she trembled with it. Then it was gone, washed away, and she was calm again, her skin tingling strangely.
"There is nothing," she whispered."Nothing." she waited an answer, not moving.
But no answer came. No voice filled the stillness.

Angel lay down slowly and curled as tightly against Michael as she could.

-------------------------

This is an excerpt from Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. This book is something I have put off reading for quite a while now, mostly because of the content, I wasn't sure I could handle it yet. The reason being the story is about a harlot, its theme derived from the book Hosea in the bible. If are you are familiar with Hosea, then you know it is about a prophet who married a harlot to bear witness God's love for His own people, the people of Israel. This harlot left Hosea again and again to return to her wicked ways from before. So as you can imagine how the a story like this can be difficult to read. Francine Rivers has transposed this prophetic tale into the 1800's of northwest America, during the a California goldrush. She takes the story into extreme depth. It was a breathtaking, hearting rendering portrayal.

God had an appointed time, and this last week was my time to read it. It was amazing! In the beginning this harlot, who goes simply by the name Angel (though she is known to her husband by many names...Amanda, Tirzah, Mara), cannot except the unconditional love of the man that God sends to marry her and save her from her terrible life. She doesn't believe he can love her, and then when convinces her, she doesn't feel worthy enough, so runs back to her life as harlot. He brings her back, forgives and continues pursuing her heart. Soon she learns to love him herself, but scared of being vulnerable, she runs away again, not to her life before, but never the less away from him. He searches till he finds her again and brings her home. Still unable to feel worthy, she leaves him a third time. He does not go after her, realizing she must first find her worth in God now, instead of him. And she does...in a harlot house, she finds herself forced into, when she is kidnapped. She finds God, and saves not only herself but many others. Then she returns finally to her husband, fully complete.

The entire book just slammed home into my face the unrelenting love of God for his bride. Angel discovers God was reaching through her husband, Michael Hosea, to show her this steadfast, forgiving devotion. She loses everything to discover this...and then gains everything.

----------------------------

When she looked up, she saw Michael standing in a field. The soft wind made the wheat look like a golden sea around him. The air was sweet and clean.
"Amanda!" he called out, running toward her.
"No, Michael, go back! Don't come near me!" She knew if he touched her, the foulness covering her would cover him as well. "Stay away! Stay back!"
But he would not listen. He came ahead.
She was too weak to run away. She looked down at herself and saw her flesh decaying and dropping away. Michael walked toward her without hesitation. He was so close, she could see his eyes. Oh..."God, let me die. Let me die for him."
No, came a soft voice.
She looked up and saw Michael standing before her. A small flame burned where his heart was. No, beloved. His mouth hadn't moved, and the voice was not his. The flame grew larger and brighter, spreading until his entire body was radiant with it. Then the light separated Michael and came the last few feet toward her. It was a man, glorious and magnificent, light streaming from him in all directions.
"Who are you?" she whispered, terrified."Who are you?"
Yahweh, El Shaddai, Jehovah-mekoddishkem, El Elyon, El Olam, Elohim...
The names kept coming, moving together like music, rushing through her blood, filling her. She trembled in fear and could not move. He reached out and touched her, and she felt warmth encompassing her and the fear dissolving away. She looked down at herself and found she was clean and clothed in white.

"Then I am dead."
"That you may live."
Blinking she looked up again and saw the man of light covered with her filth. "No!" she wept. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I"ll take it back. I'll do anything..." Yet even as she reached out, the defilement disappeared and he stood before her perfect again.
"I am the way, Sarah. Follow me."
As she stepped forward and reached out to him, there was a thunder clap, and Angel awakened in darkness.


-------------------

Then when Sarah (her real name) returns to Michael for the final time it is so beautiful...mirror image of what she experienced with God)

------------------

...She knew then that she had doubted he would forgive her, but he already had. She could live with him forever and not know his depths.
Oh, Lord thank you, thank you! She went into his arms, spreading her hands on his strong back, pressing herself as close as she could, her gratitude so strong she could hardly bear it. He was warmth and light and life. She wanted to be flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood. Forever. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the sweet scent of him and felt she was finally home.
She thought she had been saved by his love for her, and in party she had been. It had cleansed her, never casting blame. But that had been only the beginning. It was loving him in return that had brought her up out of the darkness.
What can I give him more than that? I would give him anything.
"Amanda," Michael said, holding her tenderly," Tirzah..."
Sarah, came the still, soft voice, and she knew the one gift she had to offer. Herself. Angel drew back from Michael and looked up at him. "Sarah, Michael. My name is Sarah. I don't know the rest of it. Only that much. Sarah."
Michael blinked. His whole body flooded with joy. The name fit her so well. A wanderer in a foreign lands, a barren woman filled with doubt. Yet Sarah of old had become a symbol of trust in God and ultimately the mother of a nation. Sarah. A benediction. Sarah. A barren woman who conceived a son. His beautiful cherished wife who would someday give him a child.
It's a promise, Lord, isn't it? Michael felt warmth and assurance of if enter every cell of his body.
He held out his hand. "Hello, Sarah." She loo
ked endearingly confused as she placed her hand in his. He shook it and grinned down at her," I'm very pleased to meet you. Finally."
She laughed," You are such a crazy, crazy man, Michael."
Michale laughed with her and pulled her into his arm to kiss her. He felt her arm around him as she kissed him back. She was home for good this time. Not even death would part them.
When they drew breath, Michael swung her around and lifted her above him joyously. She threw back her head and spread her arms wide to embrace the sky, tears of celebration streaming down her cheeks.
Michael had once read to her how God had cast a man and woman out of Paradise. Yet, for all their human faults and failures, God had shown them a way back in.
Love the Lord your God, and love one another. Love one another as he loves. Love with strength and purpose and passion and no matter what comes against you. Don't weaken. Stand against darkness, and love. That's the way back into Eden. That's the way to life.



You won't relent until You have it all. My heart yours.

I'll set you as a seal upon My heart, as a seal up on My heart. For there is love that is as strong as love, jealously demanding as the grave. Many waters cannot quench this love.

Come be the fire inside of me, come be the flame upon my heart. Come be the fire inside of me, until You and I are one.



...here it's You and me alone, God. You and me alone.


Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Mercy weeps.

The rain is pouring down outside, and I'm sitting safe and warm here in my room at my desk. My heart has been moved today...funny how that works. Lately I've been terribly down in the mouth. Mostly selfishness I guess, though the extent of it is just that I don't care much for life at the moment. I'm bored to death, and feel lifeless most of the time, as though I am just going through the motions. I know on the outside I'm not a very emotional person at times, but on the inside, whoa baby, hang on for the ride, I am the most pathetic emotional person I've ever known. I guess everyone feels that way deep inside. Most of the time I feel like my insides are constantly undergoing civil war.
Never the less, whenever I seem to get caught in one of the downwards spirals of feeling sorry for myself, I know it always leads to a profound encounter with God. Not sure how that works, but being so dissatisfied always triggers deeper things, as God uses it to continue His transforming. It likes He's showing me who I am, and then showing me who He is. Instantly the humility comes, and then the overwhelming love.
That happened today...and though I don't exactly feel instantly different, something has changed. I was ready for it.


My Eyes Have Seen Holy
Bebo Norman

Am I unfit for You
Remember me
The one who turned from You
I come in rags
Tattered by the fall
And all the earth
Will witness to my cry

Mercy, weep over me
And let Your tears
Wash me clean
Majesty, be merciful with me
For my eyes have seen Holy

Here my prayer
At night
Let the morning
Find me alive
For I am tired
And weakened by the fall
Let all the earth
Bear witness to my cry

Mercy, weep over me
Let Your tears
Wash me clean
Majesty, be merciful with me
For my eyes have seen Holy

Let the amen
Sound from Heaven
As You lift my soul
Let the amen
Sound from Heaven
As You lift my soul
Let the angels
Sound from Heaven
Holy is the Lord

Mercy, weep over me
Let Your tears
Wash me clean
Majesty, be merciful with me
For my eyes have seen Holy