Tag Archive | Love

Heartfelt

This weekend I had a hot date. With my mom that is. We played pool and had drinks and had fun. She won 2 out of 3 games but the fact that I even won 1 and came really close to winning another is impressive. She’s a pretty good player and I, on the other hand, am not 🙄🙄. But even though I’m not the best pool player that did not keep her from rooting for her baby girl😊. I marveled at her heart for me. She wanted me to win even if it was at the sake of her losing. That is the heart of a parent. A good parent that is…

In my Healing the Father Wound class someone shared a word of wisdom I marinated on. She said that parents are just adults who do not have it together. So true. As children we want them to have it together. Even as adult children. But who can say that they have perfect parents? No one.

I was so blessed by my mom’s heart to be “for me” and the fact that she would want me to do better than she did. The Father looks at the heart.

I’m grateful to have a mother with a good heart.

And there are so many around me with good hearts. There are so many who are “for me”. In this difficult season of waiting many continue to reach out. I know it is really the Father’s hand reaching out through each one.

Still, often He has seemed so distant, like an onlooker objectively observing. But then I think of my mom and feel His love for me. The kind of love that causes you to want your child to do better than you did. And whatever the sacrifice, whatever the cost, is worth it.

That is the love of the cross.

That is agape.

From this weekend…

SHALOM

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Healing Fast

I remember years ago a dream I had. The details are fuzzy but what stands out to me is that I was in trouble and a dear family member came out of nowhere to rescue me. The interesting thing about it was that she was in a wheelchair when she did it! She literally flew out of the air in a wheelchair and came to save me! The message to me was that this person deeply cared for me and would allow no obstacle to hinder her from getting to me in my time of need.

The issue with the dream is that I felt the exact opposite in real life about our relationship and there always seemed to be a battle between us. Isn’t it interesting how God sees one thing and it looks totally opposite in real life? He sees the end from the beginning and as an intercessor, I have been taught that His heart is to manifest heaven in the earth.

I believe in heaven everything is perfect and that includes our relationships. There is no offense or hurt or sorrow. We have perfect relationships with everyone.

At the turn of the year the Father started moving rapidly in the area of this relationship. I had given up. I was so deeply hurt and wounded I did not believe it could be repaired. I was wrong. Not only did He repair it but He did it quickly! Decades of pain were healed in one conversation!

I accredit my loved one with her heart of repentance. Sometimes we have hurtful tendencies but that does not mean we intend to hurt. It just means we are broken.

It is beautiful to watch so many years of intercession being rewarded. To see the unfolding of a flower that has withstood so many wars.

It is a new season between us and I do not take this experience for granted. The weight has been lifted from my heart and I am grateful for it. Sometimes we can carry pain for so long that we do not even know it is there until it is removed.

Thank You Father for removing my pain and giving me a deep desire of my heart.

SHALOM

The Trade (Poem)

Can I trust you with my mess?

The bruised brokenness of smelly sweat?

The scarred woundedness that oozes green gross disgusting stuff?

The pores on my skin open with it and no matter how many bandages I try to cover them with, there just never seem to be enough

Enough

I’ve had–enough

I’ve come–to the end

And hang on this rope by a thread

I loosely dangle over a pool of grace

But I am afraid

If I fully let go You’ll flee from me

The blood and gook and ooze will be too much for You

My lust

My shame

My feelings of inadequacy caused me to hide in the comfort of another

Lose my sanity for a while

Even all the while–You were there

My blood

My sweat

My tears

You traded them for peace

You nailed them to a cross and they oozed out of Your feet

Your hands

Your sides

You became my mess

A bloody mess

On a cross not fit for a King

And now I am a Queen

Beauty is more than skin deep

And still you made this brown skin beautiful

And still you clothed me in royal clothes

Still You attracted me to an attraction that was more than just physical

Intimacy is more than just physical

And now I know, because it never sustained me

And now I know, only You can sustain me

Me and my mess

You are my mess

And I am your Queen

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