Esther or Monica

Esther.  She was a beauty to behold.  She was brave.  She was obedient.  She had a strength that came from being submissive.  Yes I know how that last word makes some women feel.  To all those who lean more on the bra burning side of life, bare with me...pun intended.  

Yes Esther was obedient.  And in her obedience she was indeed submissive.  But that does not in any way make her weak.  She has a strength feminists would love to have.  She was willing to risk her life for her people!  God had a plan for his people and she was playing the lead (See men, women can be used for the lead role despite how you decide to interpret certain chapters in Ephesians, 1 Timothy, and 1 Corinthians.)

Just as Mordecai guided and led Esther so does the Holy Spirit guide and lead us.  It is a beautiful picture of our submission to our Heavenly Father's guiding hand.  

However.... 

 

PMS makes me a want to be a Monica, I do indeed get a little scrappy.  I'm still fighting an internal battle to be a beautiful light but right now I think scrappy Monica is winning.  I ask for sympathy from the women around me and grace from the men...but I hardly believe that man is capable and know I cannot expect it.  oops that was scrappy wasn't it?  

Voices Carry

All around me are voices, they are scattered throughout my day.  Some are from a verbal conversation, others are not so subtle posts, and then there are the voices that carry on all day long.  Voices that tell me I am a problem, voices that tell me I am not well, voices that contradict, that overstep, that cloud... voices that tell me there is no hope, that there is no use believing...this is a distraction.  The enemy is prowling.  He seeks to destroy. And he is certainly not above using those who (claim) to love Jesus.

Praise God that his is the only voice that matters! He tells me I am loved, and I know that I am loved (Proverbs 8:17).  He tells me that I am forgiven, and I know that I am forgiven (1 John 1:9).  He tells me he will comfort me, and I am comforted (2 Corithians 1:3).  He tells me there is a plan, and I know it will far exceed what my plan is (Jeremiah 29:11).

 His voice, full of his written word has become such a treasure to me.  In my time of brokeness He is faithful.  He does what he says and will never leave me or forsake me (Hebrews 13:5).  He is the only one that can fill me.  I ask for him to drown out the voices that are causing destruction with lies from the enemy.

Isaiah 55:6-13

My heavenly father, he knows how to fill me up... he calls to me in the silence of the night when sleep betrays me.  

“Seek the Lord while he may be found;

call upon him while he is near;

  let the wicked forsake his way,

and the unrighteous man his thoughts;

let him return to the Lord, that he may have compassion on him,

and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.

  For my thoughts are not your thoughts,

neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.

  For as the heavens are higher than the earth,

so are my ways higher than your ways

and my thoughts than your thoughts.

 “For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven

and do not return there but water the earth,

making it bring forth and sprout,

giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,

 so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;

it shall not return to me empty,

but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,

and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

 “For you shall go out in joy

and be led forth in peace;

the mountains and the hills before you

shall break forth into singing,

and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

 Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress;

instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle;

and it shall make a name for the Lord,

an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.”

The Codependent Sea (codependency)

Imagine this sea...
It is filled with waves of you, and winds from me
With depths as deep as the sky is high
Hidden beauty in both, for fish to swim and birds to fly

The water does not stop, Poseidon lives inside him
It is always moving, gathering here and flowing over there
Waves begin and are interrupted by other waves
One minute they are parallel and the next they intersect
There is confusion in the water but it continues this dance
Crashing waves are violent from the view of the shore
Crashing, is more like rolling, when observed from the ocean's floor
He has been misunderstood and at times greatly feared
The power has proven to be unpredictable in nature
And although already a thrill seekers delight
There is this longing, his waves are reaching up craving more

From all directions of Anemoi enters the wind
Complicated and wild the unpredictability exists in the form of East, West, North and South
She has carried with her evidence of where she has been
Valleys that forced her into narrow spaces have strengthened her
Sometimes dangerously so, gusts too strong for even trees to bear
Mountains have split her in two and halted her
Paths of destruction follow as she runs from pain
In pastures of rolling hills, she is gentle, a sigh of relief, a breeze
She follows the land
Here too, she feels a longing and is thirsty for more.

A clear day they meet together, thus beginning a new kind of waltz
Gentle nudges from the wind cause ripples in the water
Mist from the breakers  is caught by the wind
The wind allows the water to be dropped back into its larger body
The waves full of grace, meeting the wind where they are
Under this though is the ever present feeling that a storm is brewing

A gift appears, a ship adorned in white sails
There it sits where the water and sky collide
Reliance to keep the boat afloat remains only on their incomplete hearts
Tides are changing as are the winds

The water is at a standstill and refuses to help move the ship forward
The wind pushes and blows
Billows roll and push back
Each grows more forceful unwilling to bend but unable to force submission on the other
Through this they have lost sight of the mission to treasure the gift, this ship
Fighting for control over the gift they were given
The sea strives to be the master
The wind does not trust his dark waters
The waves begin to crash against the boat, it loathes the ship for invading his space
The wind breathes into the sails and drives it forward, fearing the sea will destroy it
Action and reaction between the two cause a viscous cycle to ensue
With each gale that howls louder than before,
There is a surge that merges with the waves that appeared before
A lover's quarrel with each one locking into the other's source of pain
Trash that had been hidden pains in the water is picked up by the wind
Combined with her own debris she accidentally hurls it at the sails
The once magnificent white sails are soiled and tattered, and yes even torn
With holes that cover the length of  the ship
The wind only passes through the sails
The water only passes through the body
Foolishly and Tumultuously the two forces continue to battle
Blaming and pointing, unwilling to see how each is has a responsibility
They do not want to continue with each other but they cannot imagine life without the other

With wood splitting and canvas torn, the ship is doomed
Fighting against instead of fighting for
A mangled mess now remains on the bottom of the codependent's floor

4 Letter "F" Word

Fear.

Fear cannot exist with Faith


Three times a week I am required to let my baby girl go with people who are now strangers to me.  The one's who once claimed to love me and promised that no matter what happened, they would always be there.  Three times a week I drive to the high school and watch her drive away in a vehicle and I am not sure where that vehicle is really headed and who that vehicle is driving toward.  And I am filled with fear.  

This child who grew inside me, this child who was delivered by my body, this child who has left my body more worn than she found it, this child who is still nourished by the miracles of my own body, this child who sleeps on me every night and very rarely strays too far from me.  This child is a wonderful gift.  This child is a beautiful baby girl.  This baby girl is proof my marriage once had passion, that there was love enough to create life...

This baby girl is a reminder that God sees me as precious just like I see her as precious.  I want to always protect her.  I want to protect her from my own mistakes, my own heartache, and those who I don't trust.  But it is out of my hands.  I am weak and I am a struggling with the unknown, left, without my baby girl safe in my arms.  She is so small and vulnerable... the silent scars could be so close and I wouldn't even know.  Will she be valued?  Will she be protected?  Will right be right and wrong be wrong?  Will she be loved with a pure love?

I will never know the answers.  I can only choose to have faith.  Faith that God will protect better than I ever could.  Faith that God loves her more than I ever will.

"When I am afraid, I put my trust in you." Psalm 56