Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it

How great the pain of searing loss,  The Father turns His face away As wounds which mar the chosen One, Bring many sons to glory Christ, on the night he was betrayed, prayed three times that the cup of God's wrath be taken from away from him.  A man who always experienced the fullness of the presence of the Father was now going to experience the most agony.  The Father turned His face away and Christ cried, "Why have you forsaken me?"  Do you think that Jesus cried more over the separation from the Father than the wounds that showed his ribs? Perhaps it was because Jesus knew the over-surpassing, joy and delight in being connected to the God.  I pray we might know that more and more this Easter.

“…’ Jerusalem will be a city without walls because of the great number of people and animals in it.  And I myself will be a wall of fire around it,' declares the LORD, 'and I will be its glory within.'”—Zechariah 2:4-5 “Look into my eyes!” I would glimpse into Jesus’ eyes before I would turn away again.     “There is a part inside you which you don’t want me to see.  Let me see it!” Suddenly I felt vulnerable and on edge.  What could He possibly be looking at?  I had the feeling of a great dry land on my body that had never been watered or touched by His presence.  He was now entering into that waste and renewing it with His Spirit.  I apparently had never let Him in.  It’s like the junk drawer or the closet of odds and ends that you don’t know what to do with.   See, what God was doing was showing me how much more of myself I need to surrender to Him.  Not much happened outside of my spirit except a greater s...

The psalmist wrote at one point, " My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the LORD; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God. "--Psalm 84:2 as well as " As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God.   My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?"--Psalm 42:1-2 There is a great deal of angst within those sentences.  It's not--as a favorite pastor and teacher of mine has said--something you put on the back of a t-shirt with the picture of Bambi.  No.  You have been running.  You are tired.  You have had no food and water.  You ache, long, and groan for Rest.   Why don't I do that more?   Lord, bring us to the point where we cry out, "I gotta have more of You!" But of course, for the sake of tradition...

Maturity in Christ is a bit different from the world's perspective.  In America, you're titled mature if you're independent.  In Christ, your maturity hangs upon how dependent we realize we actually are.  There's no place for the occasional: I can figure it out. It's not a big deal. "Alicia...You want to become so, so mature.  But maturity in Christ is childlike dependence upon Me.  Return to the things you did at first.  That is how I want you.  Not walking, but loving my arms.  Come to me like a little child.  Desperate for love!  Repent of spiritual pride!" "At that time Jesus said, 'I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little  children.'"--Matthew 11:25 " And he said: 'Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little  children , you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.'"--Matthew 18:3 " Jesus ...

There are those moments when God really puts us in our place.  They usually surround circumstances we cannot generally control.  I'm a little in shock right now, but I'll get over it quickly when I look to the mass of the ocean (being Him) and not the tiny island I've made for myself ( my plans, times, strength, even my words).  Oh, this is a good view.  I've never feared God at all in comparison to what He is worthy of.  I thought I had Him and His ways all figured out.   "Guess again, Alicia." I made You promises a thousand times I tried to hear from Heaven But I talked the whole time I think I made You too small I never feared You at all No If You touched my face would I know You? Looked into my eyes could I behold You? What do I know of You Who spoke me into motion? Where have I even stood But the shore along Your ocean? Are You fire? Are You fury? Are You sacred? Are You beautiful? What do I know? What do I know of Holy? I guess I thought t...

What a privilege to have something so valuable to my heart that its very surrender is seen as the utmost form of worship. Abraham had Isaac. Hannah had her son. The sinful woman had the alabaster flask. The Father had the Son, and the Son had His very life. How grateful am I to have been given something so dear, very dear, to my heart that I may surrender it as worship to God. Maybe a few tears as well. "Now when Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper,  a woman came up to him with an alabaster flask of very expensive ointment, and she poured it on his head as he reclined at table.    And when the disciples saw it, they were indignant, saying, 'Why this waste?    For this could have been sold for a large sum and given to the poor.'   But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, 'Why do you trouble the woman? For she has done a beautiful thing to me.'"--Matthew 26:6-10

I sit in the same section of seats.  I always sit far off by stage right.  I even congregate by the same people, but since my trip to Europe I see Sundays a little different now. It is only a Sunday. I remember vividly as I unpacked my suitcase  on December 23rd , when I realized the person God had made overseas was colliding with her old life and routine. The only real difference was that the French girl had pillow talks with Jesus.   So there I was today listening to the sermon, but on this side of the Atlantic, I've been feeling a little out if place.  The closer and closer I get to the reality of Christ, the less and less I "need" those services (however, we do need to hear the word preached).  They become less and less about me actually (rather humbling to admit that revelation at this point in the journey).  I would like to give credit to God for why I don't go to church for the same reasons as before.  As an aside, the Spi...