Just be you

Yesterday I had this random idea of piling up my car with paint supplies, canvases, and my guitar.  My friend Krystyn was visiting from the U.A.E. and we were just wanting to get out in the beautiful mountains and seaside of Oman.  I thought to myself... "What better of a way to worship God than out in the open in the sand, by the beach, and overlooking the mountains.  So that's just what we did.  We took all the colors, canvases, and my guitar about one hour south of Muscat.  I can't explain the beauty of the mountains by the seaside as we made our way to our destination.  There are times when I'm driving in Oman and I take a deep breath and just praise the Lord that He has placed me in such a beautiful country with such beautiful people.  For the first time in a very long time, I feel absolutely happy with where I am at.  I really do love this country and all that it has to offer.  So with that said, we took all of our supplies and began our drive.  I have to say that it felt good having my friend here.  Although I have made amazing friends here in Muscat, nothing can compare to my kindred sister Krystyn.  She's my worship & prayer sister.  It's like when you have two fires in separate locations they are bright and burn but when the two fires come together, they burn even brighter and you have an even bigger fire.  That's our kindred heart coming together. :-)  We worshipped all the way on the journey.  Once we got there, we scoped out the location for a good place to set up shop.  We walked and scoped the beach and checked out the people.  We found a perfect spot in the open but not to be disturbing to others.  We set out our mat, paints, canvases, and began to worship.  We sat out there on the beach and just began to sing and play the guitar.  Something about singing freely and in spirit & truth began to ring upon the waves.  The freedom that I felt worshiping my Lord on the beach was astounding.  We sat on our mat and worshiped and praised, while painting and drawing the Heart of Abba Father over Oman.  I do have to say that we did get attention.  A man came up to us to watch his stuff while his friends and him went for a swim.  I felt like God saying... "Just be you." "Be who I made you to be."  So despite the people passing by, stopping to see what we were doing, we just began to worship freely.  I felt as if we were bringing Heaven down.  I began to sing my heart over the beach.  The power of praise draws hearts into the Presence, I feel this is what was happening. There was a man who lied down next to us to rest.  He stayed there the whole time listening to us, with his eyes closed.  He didn't move until we took up our mats to leave.  I could tell he was full of peace. Then there were the two Omani men who came up to Krystyn and I.  They were very curious to see what we were doing.  We began to speak to them about how we feel about Oman and the beauty of their country and people.  They were drawn to our song and drawn to the paining of the mountains that I was working on.  I could just see the look of curiosity on their faces and the look of awe how we spoke about the love of their country.  They seemed genuinely touched.  One of the guys took out his photo and wanted to snap a few shots of our worship.  So we just continued on like they weren't there while he captured the moment.  As they walked away, I began to feel what God was saying to me.  I felt as if God was saying... "You don't have to go out looking for people to love.  All you have to do is just go out and be you.  Be you and worship me.  I will draw people to you through being you."  There were others who stopped to see what we were working on and other's who came to us but these specific two guys stuck in my heart and mind.  I think God is showing me the power of creativity in worship.  Too many times we keep our creativity and gifts inside walls, whether that's walls of your home or walls of the church, it doesn't really matter.  I believe Abba is speaking about bringing this creativity into the very heart of the open.  There's something that I felt the other day on the beach, that I have never felt before.  It's all about open spaces.  When we use our giftings in the open, we not only bring the Kingdom of Heaven down to us but we bring it down to others who may not have experienced this creativity before.  Our worship should not be contained but lived out in the open.  I believe Abba is saying "Be you and worship me in open spaces.  I will bring them into the Presence." 

So if your reading this and if you have ever had a thought of bringing your creativity to life in open spaces... get out there and bring Heaven down not just for you but for the world.  Get out there and just be you and worship Him.  You don't have to do a thing, but just love on Him.  He will do the rest.

On the Farm

As I drove into my Grandfather's drive way, I began to remember special times on the farm.  How strange it seemed to be at the house again under different circumstances.  The house was still there, the yard was still there, the sheds were still there, but many things were missing.  As I looked up where the old white barn used to be, I felt a slight pain in my heart.  It was now a wide open space that sat upon a hill (which seemed a lot smaller now).  I began to remember childhood times of sledding down the hill after winter storms.  I looked back up to the empty space and memories flooded my mind of running up and down the stairs in the barn and playing hide and seek with my brother.  I thought about the old blue classic car that my grandfather used to keep stored in the barn.  I remember how he told us not to play in it but my brother and I would lift the cover and climb in it.  I remember the old fashioned seat belts and how I could never work them.  

I then began to walk around the bottom of the hill.  I looked beyond where the old barn used to be, which now consisted of housing developments with numerous houses, that all looked the exact same.  I remembered back upon the times of sitting behind the grain silos.  I remember picking flowers behind the silos and singing.  Oh how I would always sing on that farm.  I even would sit in the silos and scream to hear the echo of my voice.  I remembered sitting upon the rolling hills and praying my first prayers.  I remember one specific time when I was about 6-7 years old, I was sitting upon a hill on the farm and I prayed to God "If You exist God, If You are out there, give me a sign."  Immediately everything went silent.  It was like sound and time itself had stopped on that small hill.  Then all of a sudden the birds started chirping and the bugs started buzzing again.  I knew then that God existed and that He had spoken to me through silence.  

I then began to walk down to the creek.  It used to be a creek with only a dirt path.  Now it consisted of a wide cement trail.  I walked down to where the creek ran and I began to remember a time when my brother and I were playing in the creek.  I was wearing pink satin shoes and my brother was standing on the edge of the water.  I was close to the edge and I believe he pushed me in and my pink satin shoes got wet.  I cried and he laughed.  As I remembered this, I began to laugh out loud.  Brothers will be brothers I thought.  I then walked a little further up the creek and thought as looking upon it, that the creek hadn't changed that much.  Only the surroundings around the creek had changed, not the actual creek itself.  As I began to walk more, I saw a hole in the ground which was probably made by a small snake.  I then began to remember another memory of walking upon the creek as a child.  I was walking up the edge of the water and a snake came right past my foot! I remembered how scared I was and how I ran screaming back to the house to tell my grandma and grandpa.  Which, they did not believe me.  

I then headed back to the cement path and began to walk upon the old farm, which was only a farm in memories.  As I walked I began to look upon the houses that now where residing on the old farm.  I saw a married couple building their deck.  I thought to myself... "We were the first.  You don't know the history behind your land.  There is history.  This was my grandpa's farm.  His father lived here.  Grandpa was born in that house."  I then walked down the path for about 15 minutes and then decided to turn back towards the house.  I walked past the couple building the deck and the man said "hello."  I began to cry and I just waved hello to him as I pulled my sunglasses over my eyes.  I then walked back towards the house.

As I approached the house, I looked to my left and the old rhubarb plants where still growing with the wild flowers, that also consisted of unseen poison ivy.  I remembered how great my grandmother's rhubarb pies were, how I missed those pies.  I then walked around the house and leaned against the house.  I was remembering the times that my grandpa and grandma would sit on their lawn chairs and just look out upon the farm.  There usually consisted of grapes that where just picked right by where the chairs were set up, lemonade or tea, and small sandwiches.  I then walked toward the front of the house and remembered where all of our pets were buried.  I bet there were maybe 50 animals out there that consisted of my grandparents time, my mother's time, and our time.  I then remembered our old dog who got hit by a motorcycle as we were walking down the old country road.  I remembered crying and having to carry the dog back and burry it with my mother and my brother.  

I then turned toward the mailbox and thought "I wonder if there is mail?"  I did not check because I thought... "Who would I give it to?" As I walked back to my car, tears began to fall as I remembered all of these wonderful memories.  I leaned against my back bumper on my car and took one last look upon the old farm house.  "So many memories, so much love."  Light began to pour down upon the house.  "Yes, the house was empty but my heart will always remain full."  I took a photo of the house and said my goodbyes.  

I then got into my car and pulled around.  I took one last look at the old farm house.  I looked in the old kitchen window as I sat there stopped in the driveway.  I was remembering all the times of visiting my grandfather.  As I would drive away, every time he would stand in that old kitchen window and wave goodbye.  My mother always said he was checking on us wearing our seat belts.  I never believed that. I think he never wanted us leaving and was holding onto the last look upon us.  As I looked into that old kitchen window, somehow I expected to see Grandpa standing and waving to me.  I did not.  The house was empty and the memories remain.  

How much history is still upon that house, the land, and that open space upon that small hill.  

    my Grandpa's old farm house

well traveled... or not so.

Today I was counting the countries that I have been to.  I thought it was more.  I'm a little disappointed that I have only been to 16 different countries. There are 196 countries in the world to see.  :-(  I'm going to have to upscale the number soon. I really thought I had been to more.

Whatever belongs

This morning I was in my quiet time and I was singing...

"Whatever it looks like here I am.
  Whatever the days like here I am.
  I give You all that I am God.  All that I am."

As I began to sing this over and over, I was awe struck by the love of God.
That whatever condition I am in, I can go to God and say "Here I am."
I may be having the best of days or the worst of days but one thing is for sure, God will accept me whatever my condition looks like.  That whatever the day is like, I can go to God and say "Here I am Lord. Here I am."  I may be standing in trials, tribulations, rain, or shine but one thing is certain...  God will accept me whatever the day is like.  That no matter my spiritual condition I can go to Jesus.  That no matter what my day is like I can look up and say "Abba Father!"

I was in awe today that I have a God that accepts my all that I give Him, even if my all is not all good.  We just don't give God only our good parts but we surrender all of our bad too.  How much freedom do I have in Jesus?  How much freedom do I have?  I have the freedom to say at any moment, any time, that all that I am... good or bad... all that I am I will give to this Man.  What an Amazing God I have.

"Whatever it looks like here I am.
  Whatever the days like here I am.
  I give You all that I am God.  All that I am."

Pearls of Blessings

Today I was reading about a little fish.

Once upon a time there was a little fish.  He looked up and saw his older brother being reeled in by a fisherman.  He immediately wanted to go with his brother.  He began to wait for the bait to come down again.  This would be his chance, he thought.  He took a big bite at the bait and was caught up on the fisherman's line.   He was reeled into the boat but the fisherman gave him a strange look.  He picked him up and turned him around looking strangely at his front, back, and sides.  He shook his head, looked into his eyes, and told him ...

"Your too small. Your not big enough.
Your just a baby.  Your not finished growing.
Your don't have enough meat on your bones.
Your brothers are big and mighty but you are too small."

The fisherman then threw him back into the pond.

The little fish felt the sting of rejection.  He wanted to be with all the other big fish.  What the little fish didn't realize then was that the rejection was actually a blessing.

As I read this story this evening, I realized that I am this little fish.  I have also felt this little sting of rejection.  What I didn't realize was that this sting of rejection was actually a blessing that drew me more into the heart of God.  Jesus says that rejection is a trial, a vexation to the soul.  We feel the sting but need not be wounded by it.  It is said that we should feel rejection and embrace it, without being wounded by it.  In all reality we have an eternal acceptance from the Father above.  When others reject us (no matter the situation), the Father is standing there with arms wide open in acceptance.  This will never change.  Rejection pushes us into the arms of the Father, not the acceptance of man.  What brings healing to our past rejections, is knowing our eternal acceptance can never be taken.  As I look back on my past, I can say now that I am thankful for all those times of rejection that have made me comprehend and understand more of my identity in the Father.  More of my identity in the truth of who God has called me to be in His Love.

I was reading that rejection can release us into kingdom truth and freedom.  The book I was reading this evening (rejection & praise) says... "to redeem the wounds of past rejection into pearls of blessing."  To turn our past rejections into pearls of blessing in our walk of life, in our walk in finding our identity, in finding who God has really called us to be.
                                                                    

Let this be a prayer ...
that past rejections would become beautiful pearls. 

stories in the sand

Recently I took a trip out to the desert.  A couple of friends and I were riding through the sand dunes and we drove passed this man from Afghanistan.  He was an older man, wearing the traditional afghani wear (kamiz shalwar) and this man's face revealed his hard life.  He had beautiful wrinkles but his countenance revealed so much sadness.  My heart went out when we drove by him and I just prayed for him, while asking God questions about his life?

As we continued to drive I saw so many men alongside the road.  Some where siting in the sand, some where walking in the sand (off the side of the road), and some where taking care of camels in the sand.  We were not on a main road but a road far out into the desert.  For some reason all these men had been brought out in the sand, my heart pondered this thought.  Their lives are far from the life that I live in Abu Dhabi.  The living conditions they endure are far different than the one that I have been blessed with.  As we continued to drive on, I continued to look and pray...  "Where are they from?  What do they do?  Do they know You, Jesus?  Why so much sadness?"  I thought to myself... "They are the forgotten ones out here in the sand."

I immediately heard Holy Spirit say... "Look.  Look at all the stories.

                                                              Look at all the stories in the Sand."

Those words struck my spirit and I just began to repeat "Stories in the Sand.  Stories in the Sand."

As we drove off into those Sand Dunes, I placed my hand on the SUV window, looking at all the Stories in the Sand.

Our first stop was at a traditional camel farm.  By the way, there are many camel farms in the location that we were going.  We probably passed over 10 of them on the way.  After about 10 minutes of driving passed camel farms, we stopped at the specified one.  As we climbed out of the SUV, there was a man calling us to come over to him.  He looked Indian, but spoke very little english.  He was the caretaker of all the camels.  I couldn't help but wonder what his story was.  Where was he from? How long had he been here? Did he take good care of the camels? Did the owner of the camels take good care of him?  We had an amazing time petting and playing with the camels, but I do have to say that they sure do poo a lot!

Later on that night, we were eating a traditional arab dinner in the sand.  There was a show after the food.   This was my first experience seeing a middle-eastern belly dance show.  I was quite surprised at the sensuality of the show.  It actually made me quite uncomfortable but I couldn't help but wonder what this eastern european girl's story was.  She was beautiful and young, it was like her face glowed or sparkled. Where exactly was she from? What was her life like before she came here? What was her life like now? How did she come to work here and at this farm? Does she do anything else here? What are her friends like?  Does she see her family often?

After the show, my friends and I meandered our way over to the henna tent.  There was a woman who was wearing the traditional abaya dress, to make her look as if she was a national, but she was not.  Honestly I am not a fan of henna but I decided to get henna to get closer to the woman.  I wondered what her story was.  She was young (maybe 18-19 years old) and just seemed very innocent.  I looked into her eyes and I could see her shyness.  She immediately looked down once she caught my glance.  I began to talk to her as I asked her where she was from.  She was from Pakistan.  She was such a beautiful young woman and she had gorgeous hands.  It's funny but  her hands are the first thing that my friends and I noticed about her beauty (maybe because everything else was covered).  She began to tell me that she had just married a few weeks ago and had only been in the UAE for 15 days.  This is surprising because most Pakistani men are not able to afford to bring their wives to the land.  I told her she was blessed to be with her husband, not too many Pakistani men are able to bring their wives here.  Now that I think of it, she didn't say that she was married to a Pakistani man.  I pray and hope that she is really blessed and given the life that she deserves.  I was so drawn to this woman, she had such purity and kindness about her.  I felt that she was drawn to me as well, as she was also asking me questions.  As we left the tent, I turned to look at her and wave goodbye and thought to myself... "another Story in the Sand."

As we were driving back to the Island, I thought about all of our encounters from the evening.  From the ride to the desert, to the one of many camel farms, to the sand dune bashing (-:, to the traditional dinner-dance-and henna, to the most beautiful sunset that I have ever seen.   I was shown so many stories that evening, so many pieces of lives in the sand.

These are just a few stories that I am sharing with you, but I have come across many stories very similar and some very different.  I believe that someday I will write a book titled "Stories in the Sand."

without You

Today I was reading something that I wrote and sang a few years back.
Brings me back to the sweetness of prayer.

I'm waiting for the emptiness
The bareness of my soul to subside
  because without You I am incomplete

It's You that makes me who I am
It's You that makes me weak
It's You that makes me loose my selfish independency

I've come to realize that I am really nothing at all
so small...
so small...
lost in the vastness of who You really are

It's really all You that just happened to me
I lay all the credit down
I give You all the fame to attain
It's really all You that just happened to me

so small I am but You are...
The Magnificent
The Great "I AM"
The ALPHA & The OMEGA
The High & Lifted One
The One who loves unendlessly & past all this brokeness

It's all You that makes me me
More of You and less of me
More of You and less of me
Because without You I am incomplete

Loosing all this selfish independency
which was really nothing at all anyways

I cry for more humility
More of You and less of me
Because there's not room for both
More of You and less of me
Because without You I would not be me
Jesus, I would not be me, Jesus

hurt to change

I read this quote (Longing for Eden) that pierced me today.

"Until the pain of remaining the same becomes greater than the pain of change,
          one will always choose to remain the same."

We know that we are more than conquerors through Christ Jesus, when He reveals the pain of staying the same outweighs the pain of changing.  Although changing at times hurts as Christ peels layer after layer after layer of our worldly flesh or desire off, the pain of staying the same is death.  I would rather be restored and changed, than to be dead and plateau.

My prayer is that the Lord would continue to make my sameness hurt to change. This is what I pray.

The pain of remaining the same
Plateau on the life in carnality
Oneness with the world pertaining to the average life of goodness
what goodness could even compare
as we remain the same without change?

Oh no...  Never giving up
Pressing on through the pain of change
Never stay the same
Oh no... Never stay the same

The pain endureth until the end of the night
Must it go? Must it leave tonight? Must it disappear with the dawn?
Pain leaves with the quickness of my self preservation

What pain endures past a leveled ground of comfort?
What pain endures past this horizontal plane?
What pain endures beyond my plateu of this so called life
      past the canyons surrounding my soul?

For You are good, You are good
even through the pain

Make my sameness hurt to change

This is your act of worship

He brought me to the desert to dance and sing...
He brought me to this desert to break these chains!
This is my spiritual act of worship...
To dance and sing... even in the depths of the night.

I will dance and sing...
wave my flag high.
Let  FREEDOM Reign.  Let FREEDOM Reign.
I will dance and sing...
praise this Glorious King.

He brought me to the desert to dance and sing...
Oh how I love Him.  Oh how I love Him.
Jesus in this place.

Today is...

TODAY IS 10-11-12!!!
 I found this funny!
 :-) :-) :-)

He Loves me. He loves me not.

As a little girl, I can remember walking outside on my grandfather's farm and picking flowers, mostly daisies.  They were white with yellow centers and they were the wild kind.  The farm there had rolling hills, with a few old rusty grain silos parched on them.  As a child, I used to wander around the farm, day dream, and make up songs/stories (what most 5-6 year olds do :-D).  I can remember getting lost in thought on those rolling hills, which seemed much bigger than what they really were.  I used to sit behind the grain silos and pick the wild daisies that grew right up against the rusty walls.  I often would pick a few other wild flowers along the way too.  My young curious mind, would often wander to the thoughts of God.  While playing on the farm,  I often would sing my thoughts to God.  I'm not sure if this is normal for a 5 year old, but maybe God was making me into a "David."  As I picked those daisies, I would always ask God... "Do you love? Do you love me not?"  Then I would begin to pick each pedal off the flower, while saying or singing...

Pedal #1  "He loves me."
Pedal #2  "He loves me not."
Pedal #3  "He loves me."
Pedal #4  "He loves me not."
....
....
....

I would often get to the very last pedal and most of the time it would be...

Last Pedal #...   "He loves me!"

... but on the times that it wasn't I would ALWAYS "make up" an extra pedal and say...

Last Pedal #... "Yep, He loves me!"

I would then smile up at Heaven and feel absolutely LOVED!

Even as a child, I always knew the love of God.  It was never really explained to me at this age but something in my child-like heart knew that there was a Father out there who extravagantly loved me. I knew that in his flower making skills there was no such pedal for me called "He loves me not."
I knew His Love as I walked on those rolling hills.
I knew His Love when I sat along that grain silo.
I knew His Love when I walked along that big creek, which now seems more like a stream.
I knew His Love when I picked those daisies.
I knew His Love when I sang to Him ... "He Loves me.  Yes, He loves me."

"Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God!"  1 John 3:1

Today as I was shopping, I came across this treasure.  I was brought immediately back to my grandfather's farm and my days of daisy picking.  I was reminded just how much God loves me.  He really really loves me!

American Dream

I had a dream last night in which I was house shopping. I was walking around a neighborhood with quite a few number of houses.  Every house looked the same except for the different sizes of the yards.  I was alone and without a realtor.  I came to this one specific house.  I walked in and began to walk around.  As I was walking around the house looking at the rooms, I came into the kitchen, which was in the very center of the house.  There was a familiar friend from my childhood in the kitchen.  He was sitting at the kitchen table (kitchen island) on a bar stool, which was in the middle of the kitchen.  As I approached him, he began telling me how he and his wife had bought a house just like this house and it was in the very same neighborhood.  He then took me to look at their house.  To get there, we walked around a small pond in the neighborhood while passing a few other homes.  Their home was almost the same as the one I had originally looked at, but with just minor differences.  I then looked at the yard to see how big it was.  The yard was much smaller and closer to the other houses, the trees were also very close to their house.  I noticed in the dream that all the houses looked the same.  I then looked at my friend and told him that I wanted to buy the first house. I said... "It is what I want."  I then woke up.

As I thought about this dream, I was surprised why I would ever want to buy a house like this.  In the dream, the house was not beautiful although it was not ugly either.  It was not unique but it was very similar to all the other houses in the dream.  It was small and simple, a little boring.  The only difference from my house compared to my friend's house was that it had a bigger yard. I was not really impressed by the appearance, size of rooms, yard size, uniqueness, or character of the house.  Yet I still stated that I wanted to buy the house. Why?  I prayed about this dream today and the interpretation of it.

I felt that God was talking to me about the so called "American Dream."  I believe that God has given me a choice of how I can live my life.  To the average American it may seem like the thing to do.  Most might settle down, buy a small-adverage house-in a small neighborhood, along a small pond.  Most people might actually be content with their average lifestyle.  For years they might even say... "this is what I want."  This is exactly what I said in my dream.  As I said this in the dream, my heart felt something completely different.  Although these words came from my mouth, my heart was not satisfied with the decision.  I awoke thinking... "Why on Earth would I settle for the average lifestyle?"  I personally don't think that God was specifically speaking to me about buying a house but that the house was symbolic for the "normal" American lifestyle.  God has given me a choice of what lifestyle I may live.  There are two options to choose from: The path that most people take, the so called American Dream with an average life, average neighborhood, average house, average yard, average pond, and average family or the path less traveled into the unknown, living in random countries, random cities, random cultures, unknown houses, among unknown or different languages, and with the unknown of when the family may come, if by chance it ever does.

One path seems average and the other path seems random & risky.
One dream seems contentful and the other dream seems unknown.
One home seems small and grounded and the other home seems limitless and vast beyond the oceans.
One seems so stagnant and the other seems so fruitful in new seasons.
One seems to be walking by sight and yet the other seems to be walking by faith.

I have to admit, I like the latter.  This is my path. This is my dream. This is my home.
"This is what I want."


Somehow I can't help but think of the path less traveled. :-)

that chosen to be close to God one

I want to be that chosen to be close to God one

To hear Your Voice
To feel Your Nearness
To see Your Face
And to know Your Gaze

Because I want to be that chosen to be close to God one

To look in to the night sky and know The One who created each star
To walk along the oceans and know The Man who filled them up
To look upon mountain tops and know The Master Painter
And to step into different seasons and know The Changer of them all

I want to be that chosen to be close to God one

To walk into a different nation and know You ~The One Father of them all
To step into the darkest places and know that You have already gone before me
To look into the face of strangers and to exchange a glance through Your Eyes
And to love others through the love that You have chosen to love me

Because I want to be that chosen to be close to God one
God choose me

33rd street & 3 more days

Today has been a strange day.  What should I expect though when I pray "God show up!"  Last night I prayed that God would show up during my travels, that He would surprise me with His Presence and signs. :-)  This morning I prayed that again... but I might have rephrased it... "God show up in Paris today! (I have this thing with Paris-but then who doesn't right?)  Now I sit and ask myself "why am I surprised on my strange day?"  Maybe in the midst of all the confusion I had forgotten my prayer.

I got up this morning and began last minute packing to head back to the UAE, for my 3rd year teaching at Almaha Primary School.  I packed everything all nice, neat, and orderly.  Funny how packing to go back is a lot neater than it was to come.  I had everything all packed by 11:00am and I had time to pray with one of my roomies for the upcoming year-new beginnings for both of us.  How great it is to bless friends in prayer and receive prayer.  Truly this is the family of God that I love so much, a praying family.  

I then checked (through my phone) my flight departure time.  Yes, I have to say that I'm a proud owner of a new iphone-4S.  It has been my new toy for the week that has consumed only a little of my time. ;-) The departure time read 4:35pm, Aug. 30th.  My other room-mate and I planned on leaving for the airport 3 hours before my fly time.  

On the way to the airport, we lifted up prayers. :-)  She specifically prayed for God to show me that I was not traveling alone.  She also prayed for favor, favor, favor, and for new beginnings.  I then lifted her up in prayer.  My friend's car started acting funny as we were driving.  All of a sudden I just had this peace in me.  I said, "I'm okay if God has me not make it to the airport.  I am okay if God has me make it to the airport.  Whatever He wants to do, I am okay with. "  Then her car stopped acting funny.  As we pulled into the airport we ended our prayers and she helped me carry my very heavy luggage to the dock.  I really honestly didn't think I came with that much stuff but as I pulled it all out of her hatchback, even as neatly packed & orderly as it all was, it was def. not light.  Who knew that shoes & product could weigh that much!  I will admit that I love my shoes & hair products.  Although at times my heels seemed a bit inappropriate in KC, they may not have actually made it out of the suitcase in KC.   'sad-face' AnotherTime@AnotherPlace   

At the "check in dock" at KC International Airport, I placed my bags on the dock and passed the man my passport.  He looked at me strangely and said, "You should have been here 2 hours before for an international flight!"  I then showed him my phone because I had not printed the ticket out.  He told me my flight was departing at 3:00pm instead of 4:35pm.  I then proceeded to the American Airlines help desk.  As I was in line, there were some Arabs checking in as well.  The man carried one of my suitcases up to the counter for me.  It felt good to practice my arabic skillz again. "Shukran Jazilan" :-)  As I showed the American Airlines Clerk my flight schedule via@iphone (while pointing to the time of 4:35), she reached out and touched the screen.  It opened up the date which then changed the time to 3:00pm! No way I thought, "I missed my flight!"  She then said that there was another flight leaving tomorrow for Abu Dhabi and she said the flight difference would be a 2,000.00 dollars!  I immediately felt sick to my stomach and thought, "No way am I paying that amount for me missing my flight!"  She tried to look for another flight but for some strange reason the computer system was not working properly to look for flight prices.  She gave me the international number to call and we proceeded to the back to the car.

All the way home, I was in shock.  Basically, I was thinking I was leaving the country and then a "suddenly" happened.  I couldn't really blame it on the airlines and I couldn't really blame it on myself.  It was just a mistake that happened.  I got the time wrong but it wasn't really my fault.  I prayed for favor with the airline price.  I def. didn't want to fork out another 2,000.00 for a one way ticket! That was just out of the question.  Immediately 1 Thessalonians 5:18 came to my mind. "In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."  I then just began to praise God and thank Him out loud.  It went a little something like this... "Well I missed my flight, might have lost a lot of money! Praise God! Praise God!"  We than began to claim Romans 8:28 over the situation.  "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose."

As we came into the house, I called the 800 number to reschedule my flight.  I was put on hold, transferred, put on hold, put on hold, and then put on hold.  All the while, praying for patience, favor, and questioning why this was all happening.  The woman on the other line was trying to find me a reasonable fare because as it looked for the upcoming day the cost was still a 2,000.00 difference.  I waited for approximately 45-50 minutes on hold.  She came on and had found me a flight that would only cost an 80.00 difference for the beginning of next week!  I praised the Lord out-loud and thanked her numerous times!   I rejoiced more when getting off the phone.  Then thanked "the Lamb" numerous times! My friend then asked me what time it was.  I told her it's 5:33.  "Oh wow!" I said.  She said "does this number mean anything to you?"  It sure does! 5 is the number for Grace and the 33 is the number that God always shows me when He wants me to know that I am right where I am supposed to be at! It's like He's telling me He is with me!  She then proceeded to tell me something crazy!  She said... "funny thing but today when I was paying rent, I added up my rent,  plus the 22 days that you were here.  The total ended up coming to 333.24.  You gave me yours in cash and then I wrote the check for 333.24.  Since you are staying another 3 days at 11 dollars a day, you will owe 33 dollars when you leave!"  I couldn't believe it!  

To give you all a history of this 33 thing.  Ever since I left for the UAE 2 years ago, the Lord has been showing me 33's as signs to tell me I am in the right place or that He is with me.  I had a dream of going through a door w/the 33 on it.  When I opened the door I was in the ME.  The street sign outside of our home-group home in the UAE was 33rd st.  The house of prayer's address in Dubai is 33.  When on a trip to S. Africa, my arrival time was 3:33.  There are numerous other signs the past few years using the 33's that God has shown me.  Today is another day that the Lord has shown up saying "Do not worry, you are exactly where you are supposed to be at.  I am with you.

As I sit and type this, I look over at my luggage in the corner of the room. I can't help but say... "Wow, I can't believe I'm still here in KC!"   For some reason or another, I am still here and I am okay with that-as I prayed earlier.  Now I am reminded of all the other prayers... "God show up today.  Presence. Favor, favor, favor. May she know she is not traveling alone." Wow did God ever show up today!!! I also have yet another REAL Sunday in America, on Memorial Day weekend (for those who understand the Islamic weekends).  For this I rejoice and giggle... saying "I can't help but feel I should be on that plane right now... but then again, maybe not.  

Quote of the Day

"Victory begins with name of Jesus on your lips, but it will not be consummated until the nature of Jesus is in your heart." 

pondering

Today I had this phrase come into my mind... "Breaking the Stigma of Religion."

Our two different faces from my two second grade emirate classes.
Who says you can't be serious and silly? :-D

cut to the heart

The rare times when reading scripture, it cuts to your spirit, cuts to you soul, cuts to your heart.

"Those who were not my people I will call "My people,"

and her who was not beloved I will call "beloved."

And in the very place where it was said to them, "You are not My people,"

there they will be called "sons of the living God."

                                                         Romans 9:25 (Hosea 2:23)

When I read this today the impact of the reality hit me.  This is happening today.  This prophecy foretold about in the book of Hosea and re-quoted in Romans is happening in this very day.  It's happening corporately in nations and individually in personal lives.  When reading this today I was amazed at how alive God's Word stands.  His Words are Truth, they are Real.  They are Alive and Active in our very time.  I was cut to heart as I read this today. 

MERCIFUL is He who says to those who are not His people "you are Mine."

COMPASSIONATE is the One who sees the unloved one and says "You are My loved one."

ABOUNDING IN LOVE is the Father who claims children in a land who has been said they don't belong to Him.  He says ... "My sons & daughters come Home to Me."

Merciful, Compassionate, Abounding in Love... this is my God. This is my Beloved. This is my Father.  He is absolutely BEAUTIFUL and I love Him so much.

The Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi

"Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.


Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy.


O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love.


For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.


Amen."

Heaven's Eyes

Choked up by reading Leif Hetland's book...


One or two put their heads in His bosom.  
 In His bosom, they feel honored.  
 On His lap, they feel safe.
 In His hands, they feel blessed.
 In His eyes, they feel loved.
 In His smile, they feel delighted in.


 And there on His lap, with that squirmy brood of children--so young, so innocent, so trusting--Jesus shows us a picture of the Kingdom of God with its King on His throne.  He places the least of these in the position of most honor, gathering them to His bosom and blessing them.


 Jesus knew exactly how they felt, and He fought back a nostalgic treat for the bosom of His Father that He had left so many years ago when He climbed down from the lap so we could climb up onto His."


Then they brought little children to Him, that He might touch them; but the disciples rebuked those who brought them.  But when Jesus saw it, He was greatly displease and said to them, "Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God.  Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it."  And He took them up in His arms, laid His hands on them, and blessed them.


Before Jesus left this earth to return to the bosom of the Father. He cried out to the Father.  The time was late at night; the place, the Garden of Gethsemane.  Once there, Jesus walked a little way beyond where He had left Peter, James, and John, then fell to the ground and praying.  The writer to the Hebrews describes the scene one of anguish, tears, and loud crying (Heb. 5:7).  What Jesus cried out was "Abba! Father! All things are possible for You; remove this cup from Me yet not what I will, but what You will (Mark 14:36).


What exactly is going on in that Garden?  Jesus is afraid.  He is crying, loudly, and for a time, uncontrollably.   Suddenly He is a little boy again, climbing onto His Papa's lap, trembling, reaching up, and desperately clinging to His neck.  Asking Him--no, begging Him--for a reprieve.  In essence He pleads, "Papa, please.  The cup is too heavy; it's contents, too bitter.  Do I have to take it?  Must I drink it?  Is there no other way?"


Though the answer is hard, the lap is soft, and the Father's arms bundle His Son against the chill of night--warming Him, assuring Him, calming Him.  What began in tears, ended in trust.  What began as a request, ended as a relinquishment.  What began as a way out for the Son, ended as the way of salvation for the world. 


All because of the Father's lap.


And because of the Son who sat there, wept there, surrendered there.

My prayer is that I can lean into the bosom of Jesus.
To lean into all of my brokenness and lean into the heart of this very Man, Jesus.
To come as the child He sees me as.
To sit upon the lap of Abba and be loved as I am, a child.

I hear the Lord saying... "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them.  For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to these little ones."