Lord, Make Me New

  Unspoken words hung heavy in the noisy room. The ladies quickly connected as we women will do and laughter-peppered banter became music to the lonely soul. But the unspoken could be seen in the dart of their eyes. Will I find a friend? Can I feel safe here? Is anyone else hurting like I am? Do I dare open up? Will they understand? Will they accept me? Can my life really be different? I’m awed at their bravery. It takes courage to show up in brokenness. I know. We gather, because we are tired of feeling alone. We are drawn together because deep inside we know there must be a way to be changed.  There is. God is waiting to answer the questions each as unique as the number of women, yet all stemming from one. Am I loved? My heart swells with hope for the hearts of these women hungry for change and I pray. Do not allow this world to mold you in its own image. Instead, be transformed from the inside out by renewing your mind. As a result, you will be able to discern what God wills and whatever God finds good, pleasing, and complete. Romans 12:2 The Voice Today I was in a black mood even though I started the day with reading His word. I easily slip back into conforming with the world. I look over my shoulder and somehow am tricked into being the person I dislike so much. I become prideful, self-centered and insecurity all wrapped together. The world rubs off on me and I have to come to God again. Messy, ugly and ready to be transformed...
Brittle Dry – God Says, Harvest Will Come

Brittle Dry – God Says, Harvest Will Come

    It is amazing how often driving to church brings unwanted and poorly timed emotions. My heart churned as frustrated prayers begged God to bring me close to His Holiness. I arrived late for worship team warm up. When I entered the sanctuary, It is well With My Soul filled my ears and made an escape down my cheeks. You see, it is not well with my soul. Things are amiss and the Holy Spirit says we are going to deal with it. I came home from church with a pull the covers over my head kind of feeling. I was exhausted, but the afternoon glorious so I decided to walk Maggie, my dog, along the newly opened field. It was an unexpected appointment with God. October is not a pretty time in Nebraska. It holds a different beauty; one pregnant with hopeful anticipation. Miles upon miles of brittle brown fields lay ready for harvest. To the unfamiliar eye, the nondescript rows hold nothing of value. To the one who is waiting to harvest, the field is full of bounty. The farmer prepared the soil, planted seed, provided nutrients, protected from damage and watered. He has invested much. All as he waits for the proper time to harvest. Maggie searched for bugs and I searched for God to speak. The wind-pushed leaves scratched brittle against each other. I am brittle too. God speaks. This field is you. I am waiting to harvest. Maybe you are brittle dry waiting on God also. It is not an easy place to be. I get that. Do you believe you have nothing...

God of the Small

I’ve had some major things happening the last few weeks. (My last post sums it up.) I am feeling better after a doctor visit and antibiotics just in time for hormones and fatigue to take main stage. I have to be gone from home most nights of the week and it is wearing on me. The tumultuous family situation continues to tumult. I have mostly reacted to the daunting situation by putting on my A game. Facing a mountain? Pour on the prayer. Need understanding? Dig deeper into scripture. Looking at the impossible? Plant that mustard seed. But God keeps whispering to me. I am the God of the small. Wow, He’s got me on that one. This tumbled around in my mind last week and God immediately put me to the test. My daughter called in a pickle which would not have happened if she would have done what I asked the night before. As I drove to school to pick her up, anger festered. God spoke more clearly. I am the God of the small. In the short drive, I threw up a help me prayer and managed stifle sharp words about her unwillingness to obey me. I squeaked by that time. But since then? I have to fess up. Not so good. Sure I’m still pontificating about the majors in my life, but I’m not measuring up in the minors. So many things are falling on the wrong side of the balance. How can God be my God when He isn’t God of my ALL? When He isn’t God of the small. Show me, God I...

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