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One Day At A Time

Lately I’ve been thinking about Abraham.  I’ve been told I need to have the faith of Abraham.  A few years ago I studied the scriptures and received great revelation on how God was working in my life.  He was moving in a similar manner in the way He had moved with Abraham.

For so much of this journey I counted it an honor to be chosen.  I felt elated at the thought that I could capture the Father’s eye and then His heart.  That thought still touches me.

But reality is it is a journey, and journeys were never created to be completed overnight.  Instead they stretch out in the distance…

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I am stretched out in the distance.  I am stretched and stretched and stretched and my belly feels flattened and emptied out.  I find myself going in circles around similar obstacles in times past and I’m shocked that the same obstacles that are in my present were also present in my past.

A woman in my fellowship was interceding for me.  She was interceding and warring when I had given up.  I had given in.  And I was so touched to know the Father was thinking of me, even when I had turned my back on Him.  When I had turned my back on myself.

Today I am trying to get back to myself.  I know the other path leads to destruction and that is my primary motivator.  It took 25 years for Abraham to receive the promise.  And how did he make that 25 year stint?  One day at a time.

Weekend☺️

SHALOM

 

A Company of Poets


I remember last year I was invited to an open mic night by a friend.  When I arrived I was asked if I was performing.  I’m sure I looked like a poet, with my retro hair and high waist pants (I love vintage style) but I let the woman down easy. “Nope,” I said with conviction,  “I’m not a poet!”  I made my entrance and met my friends.  After a few acts in the show I realized that much of the content people were sharing was anything but truth and light.  I grieved for my generation, praying for the Father to send someone up there with truth!  That’s when I knew.  It was me.

“What’s in your hand?” He said to my heart and I was reminded of Moses.  Well all I had was my first book on my kindle app.  My phone’s battery had been dying at the time and I didn’t even think the phone would last long enough for me to read from the first chapter.  But my friend gave me a charger and I courageously took the stage.  I read and felt the anointing and knew that though on the surface I was sharing about overcoming heartbreaking, in the Spirit I was releasing light, truth and hope.

I shared that experience with my (very prophetic) fellowship and one woman wrote on a pad, “Nicole, the poet”.  We talked about becoming all things to all men.  I tucked that little nugget in the back of my mind not thinking anything of it.

Fast forward about 6 months and I find myself signed up for a poetry workshop, writing short stories with poets in them and receiving a loud round of applause from experienced poets who heard my first poem.  I was shocked to find that my writing was not just confined to non fiction, but apparently…I was a poet.

I had my first poetry slam this weekend and shared the pieces He had given me.  Poetry has been a great way to express deep pain as well as deep desires.  Writing has been a vehicle to reveal the hidden things in my heart.  Funny thing is all of my short stories have manifested in multiple ways.  I actually keep meeting people in real life who have the same name and descriptions as my characters!  It’s been cool to see the Father confirm His hand in my writing in this way.


I want to encourage you not to limit yourself.  Don’t think because you haven’t done something yet or walked in something it is not meant to be.  Be open to how the Father wants to use you, your gifts, and all that He has put in you.

He is the Maker.  You are the clay.  And your story is still being revealed…

SHALOM

 

The Gift

It’s been a month since we started hanging. I knew I was attracted but had no idea God could use that attraction. I had no idea you would be a safe haven. A place of restoration. There are so many things I marvel at: the treatment of respect, the understanding of my value, the seeing of my true self.

For so long I knew I longed for love. As women we long for love.  But what I’m learning in this season is that I also long for respect.  I believe we have a deep seated longing to be pursued in such a way that causes a man to rise to the high standard our Father has set. But it’s only high because we are royalty.  And it’s only high to those who are not.

I learned how to play the game. He made his move and I made mine. Check mate. It took everything I had but I sent the text, forfeited the date, knowing he was a fool.


But then you were there. Again. And when you speak I know it’s sincere. I know your words are true. And I think fondly of our budding friendship.

“You are my gift,” you say.  And I don’t tell you, but I feel the same.

SHALOM

Blind Spots

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It’s amazing one can be intelligent, driven, successful, beautiful and godly.  One can be all those adjectives yet still be susceptible to FooleryManipulationFalsehood. And Deception.

One of my spiritual gifts is discernment.  Demons and spiritual entities of darkness approached me early on in my spiritual journey and I was hardly afraid.

I could see and hear Truth: He looked like Love and smelled like Beauty and He was Mine.

But even with all the training, all the experiences in spiritual warfare—I have found—there are still blind spots.

You know when you’re driving and you’re on the freeway and cars are zooming by and you need to get over so you check your mirrors?  Then you start moving over and you hear a loud honking as the car next to you lays on their horn and maybe follow it up with a four letter word?  That happens because you forgot to check your blind spot.  And in real life, I’m so good at that.  I’m actually super nervous about switching lanes to the middle lane if someone on the other side of that lane is driving parallel to me.  I have this fear that one day we will both try to get over at the same time and then… BAM!   Thankfully that has not happened.  Probably because I’m so anal about checking my blind spot.  In driving that is…

I had to learn there are blind spots in life.  There are simply pitfalls and traps that I cannot see, as intelligent and driven and godly as I am.  I am not all-seeing.  I am not Jesus.  And clearly Jesus knew that so He gave me (us) Holy Spirit.  So many times in the past He used Holy Spirit to navigate me around those pit falls.  Many times I did not understand that He was protecting me.  I only felt Rejected.  Deprived.  Frustrated.

In this season He is using others.  They call me and tell me updates on a certain situation.  They share revelation on men and relationships and things I was never taught by my father.  Or Uncle.  Or brother.  I find YouTube videos, and books and my eyes slowly become open.  It’s a difficult thing to re-train my mind because I have thought one way for so long in this area, but I have overcome much more difficult things.  I’m certain this will be added to the list.

It’s unfortunate we live in a fallen world where people take advantage of a person with a good heart.  They figure out ways to manipulate and deceive.  But one thing my friend told me that really encouraged me was this, “We do not have to be like serpents to be as wise as them”.  I believe she is right.

I am learning.  I am becoming wise.  And I will not trade my dove’s heart for a serpent’s crafty one.

He has done too much for me to make that trade.

Weekend…


SHALOM

 

Overcoming Anxiety (Poem)


I can’t believe it’s been a year.

More than a year.

I have to remember the tingling in my mind.

The needles in my brain.

Stabbing.

Stabbing.

Giving me no peace.

No rest.

No time to be.

There was a hand gripping my heart.

A very large hand, and I woke up in the middle of the night

Only to see night

Struggling to see Light.

It was gone. Overshadowed by darkness and pain. He was gone.

“How could You forsake me”? I cried. And cried.

My tears went unanswered.

My fears kept demanding attention.

Implanted there by white men who enslaved my people with chains and whipped them with whips ‘til the skin peeled off their backs.

Nobody had their backs.

Nobody spoke their language.

I couldn’t have made it at the bottom of that ship because just the fear I was experiencing was only a portion of what they went through.

Just the awful grotesque darkness that invaded me for weeks

And months

And more than a year, almost drove me to suicide.

Because a person needs their mind.

A person needs a sense of identity.

And when they don’t have that, then who are they?

Who are they but a wondering soul waiting for each day to bring them truth.

One day rolled into the next.

And I realized that if God keeps waking me up there must be a purpose.

There must be a reason.

He stood there–distantly–guiding me with His eye, showing me the way.

His way.

I trusted in His way because it had never let me down.

I sat down.

Peace in my mind.

Hope in my heart.

Love in my members.

I sat down, resting in that place and I had to be reminded of the needles in my mind. They threatened me with intensity and my propensity to give in to fear-lessened.

Just like the demoniac, I was touched.

Slowly.

Quietly.

In a way I didn’t want, but a way that needed to be.

I was free.

SHALOM

After The Storm

There is a quiet these days.  Each morning I wake up and its not like the mornings of years past but its not like the mornings of months past either.  Instead of feeling overwhelmed with the Father’s love, or being tormented with fear (which has been the case), I feel–quiet.  I feel stillness.  I feel a victory from overcoming this season and an encouragement to keep moving forward.

I’ve been writing a lot lately.  Not on this here blog, but on my laptop, with the cat, under my fleece.  My roommate has been so gracious to listen each evening as I share the short story I’ve been working on.  She is so affirming.  A fellow writer and with much more experience, her compliments and feedback hold even greater weight.  This story I’m writing (which is actually almost complete) brings me such joy.  There are some prophetic elements to it as well which has been very interesting.  Hopefully I’ll be able to share more on that in the future.  I’m reminded that a while back Jesus told me to fight for joy.  He said, You need to find things in life that give you joy.  A naturally melancholic personality, this didn’t come easy.  But we can do all things through Christ and I have learned (am still learning) the art of joy. 

Writing brings me joy.

My bestie visited me recently and we stayed up ’til 4am.  I haven’t done that in YEARS.  We reminisced on college days, when we were just teenagers and in love with Jesus.  Now we are in our 30s.  She’s a mom and a divorcée.  I’m an author, still single with no children.  We have come a long way.  “We are the best of the best” I told her.  And I meant it.  I believe God desires His best to be manifested in our lives.  And I believe that best can only be manifested if we stick with the path He created for each of us.

She and I have stuck with that path.

It has not been easy.  Anyone reading this blog sees clearly my ups and downs, but always He sustains me.

Writing my short story shows me how the author uses circumstances and people  to get the protagonist to where she is going.  I’m sure that’s how the Father is when He writes our story.  He puts people and situations in our lives, ultimately to bring out the person He created before the fall.  Before the womb.  Before the dysfunction.

There was a period of time where I was shocked by the storm.  Shocked by the darkness.  Now looking back, I can see that it was just a shadow, it was not death itself.  If it were death it would have taken me out.  I thought it almost did, and maybe it almost did but I know to Him, it was just a shadow.

Now that I’m on the other side (still fighting of course) I can see I was bigger than that storm.

And I wouldn’t be a better version of myself had I not gone through it.

I pray the same for you.

A few things that bring me joy…


SHALOM

Back To The Beginning

In just 2 months I’ll be moving back in with my mom.  Whew.  To say that I am shocked by this prospect is an understatement.  The shock is probably only slightly overshadowed by my pushing my mid 30s and life looking exactly the opposite of what I pictured.  But I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in this.  My roomie has the same shock and she is 6 years my junior.  My besties have the same shock and we are all the same age.

This weekend I drove around the new neighborhood which is not too far from the old one.  I talked to old friends I have reconnected with in this season.  So much of the new resembles the old.  It’s weird.

I am reminded of a revelation God gave me a few years ago after a big test.  He said my life was like a helix.  It wasn’t that I was walking in circles over and over the way I felt I was.  Instead, I was moving forward in a circular motion.  It seems living with my mom again is a part of that same pattern.  No matter how hard I tried to make choices that would position me in a certain place at this point in my life (husband, 2.5 kids and dog), I still ended up here.  Back to the beginning. 

We went to church for Easter (mom and I).  I know this is a new beginning for her and I’m blessed to be a part of it, I just wish it hadn’t cost me so much. 

On Easter I was reminded of why it costs.  It costs us because it cost Him.  We are not above the teacher.  We are not above our Master.  If He sacrificed, we too shall sacrifice.

My roommate gave me a card on Easter which read, “Nicole, just as Christ died and resurrected, I look forward to seeing the resurrection in your life”.  That is what I too am desiring.  To see the resurrection from all the death.  To see the fruit from all the pruning.  To see if the wait was really worth it…

SHALOM