Spark

“Perhaps the artist longs to sleep well every night, to eat anything without indigestion, to feel no moral qualms, to turn off the television news & make a bologna sandwich after seeing the devastation & death caused by famine, drought, earthquake & flood.
But the artist cannot manage this normalcy. Vision keeps breaking through & must find means of expression.”
Madeline L’Engle

I drive down the road and sometimes have to stop and catch my thoughts. I have a tendency to be distracted by something- usually anything- and next thing I know I have a lifetime story in my head. Fearless stories of fictional characters who have faced far worse, more tragic lives than my own and how they have dealt with them. Sometimes its opposite- its the way i feel it should be. I am a people watcher. In airports I love to sit and see strangers and in my mind I make up their lives- are they happy? where did they come from? Single? Married? Searching? Found? These characters and imaginary fairy tales of love and lost are swimming aimlessly around my head. I put them down every once in a blue moon- but mostly they just drift off.


But what has gotten my attention more than recently is the spark. What triggers these notions of a unknown reality?


The spark lies in the fire. The spark is the Creator behind everything.


I once read that a artist relationship with their god is not effected by their life. But their life is effected by their god. My God- is the Creator. My life is driven by the creation. And every time I get the spark going, once I get my thoughts under control, I am forced to stand back in awe of what ignited it all.

“Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence? If I ascend into heaven, You are there. If I make my bed in hell, behold You are there...”

Every where I go I am reminded how You are everywhere. You are in all things. You are guiding me.

“...Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me.” Psalm 139:7-10

Go forth

“I am given hope that I may remember how to walk across the water.” Journal entry November 5, 2008

Coffee cup number two of the morning is brewing in the kitchen and the dogs are resting at my feet. Looking out the window the rain steadily continues to pulsate to the ground. The bible open next to me and my blackberry not too far out of reach- all my addictions are in place. (with Phil Whickam serenading me). I am trying to enjoy the peace and quiet that surrounds me, knowing what is coming.

Do you ever get the urge to coop yourself up with Jesus? And don’t tell me you are always conversing with Him- your lying. We are all human and live in a world that likes to bully us with dirt and filth. But do you ever, honestly just desire not to leave your sanctuary? Today I am sitting in the kitchen and just enjoying being untouched. For right now, I can relax and just be who God made me and spend time with Him. I don't have to sit up straight (sorry dad), suck in my tummy, worry if my hair is frizzy, and sometimes I actually sing really really loud! Yet I know the reality. I have to leave the front door. I know that in about an hour or so I have to make myself presentable to the outside (cause you will stare), and go forth into the realm of the enemy. BUT (I LOVE that word) when I get dressed this morning,not only will I put on my clothes, do my makeup, try and tame my hair, but I will also put on my armor. I will put on my breastplate of righteousness and I will prepare my feet with the Gospel. Above all- I will have my shield of faith which will protect me against the wickedness that we fight everyday. My helmet of Salvation will be securely renewing my mind and thoughts and my Spirit will be sharper than any two-edged sword. I will walk through the front door- insecure in my own right, but confidant that I will boldly stand in our Protector. I will not turn my back to the evil principalities but I will face them in valiant trust.

Here we go....

“...that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us.” 2 Corinthians 4:7

Wedding Day

My heart had finally slowed down and the reminder to not lock my knees was dancing around in my head. The bouquet of flowers was starting to weigh in my arms and that is when I had to catch my breath. As one of my best friend came walking down the aisle, veil covering her gorgeous face, I couldn’t help but realize that Becca was becoming a wife. She was no longer about to be one, but she was becoming part of one. It wasn’t but an hour ago, that it started clicking for her that she was getting married! The day that every little girl plans since they were 5 was coming a reality.
As they were exchanging their promises of love and sanctity, I felt the goose bumps go up my arms. This is what we all were waiting for. As I started to reminisce on the past few days, I just kept smiling.
I had arrived in Washington D.C. with a bit of discouragement in my own heart and within my own life. But once again I was reminded how personal our God is. He knew exactly the words, the friends, the atmosphere I needed. I now contained a renewed joy and enthusiasm as I stood there, looking at Becca and Paul give not only their lives, but their marriage over to glorify the Lord. The ceremony was an intimate time of worship and remembrance of how our Father views His bride. We were all reminded, once again, how our lives are to represent His love towards us.


But then.... it was time to party! We ended the night with many dances (including the bridal party specialty of the Virginia Real) and many traditions. I honestly don’t think I have had that much fun in a long time. Here are a few captured shots of the big day!

The groomsman

The Bridal party after the Big Finale!

My girls that I love!




Aren't they precious?

connect

She stands there. Knees locked and thoughts running. As the lives pass by her, she wonders what it is like to have that freedom. The walls that surround her, allow her to watch, but she is unable to move. She sees the people all around, walking by her and not even noticing. She knows she can see them, but can they see her? She can feel the eyes of people looking but knows she is not seen. Not touched. What did she do? What is it that put her here? She is bewildered by what is happening and cannot wrap her thoughts around it. All she did was do what she thought was the right thing and what she felt she was suppose to. Was she wrong? Is this the sacrifice it would bring? She wonders if anyone will ever look twice. She wants the walls gone. She wants to be able to walk around with the confidence of those she sees. Yet in the same thoughts of wishing, she knows she won’t settle, even if she wanted to. She knows the walls are hard to climb- she knows that there is a reason for them.... “After he had patiently endured, he obtained the promise.”

Wait.
There it was. It didn’t hold long, but it was there.

He walks by her, again. Everyday it gets harder. He sees her and knows that she is different. He knows that there is something about her that no one else has. He is drawn to her in a way he doesn’t understand and can’t explain. The only way he knows how to deal with it is to turn the other way. He avoids her and tries to keep his distance, yet he can’t take take his focus off of her. He cries out to God to intervene and do something about what is going on inside him. Yet it just grows deeper. Does she even notice him? He looks up at her again, knowing that the walls that surround her aren’t meant to be conquered over and over. But one time. If he is to have her, he is to fight for her. The walls are intimidating, and make her seem untouchable. It seems too narrow. Can he do it? Is he worth it? But she is. She looks his way... “enter by the narrow gate...”

Wait.
There it was. It didn’t hold long, but it was there.

Facelift

I gave my blog a facelift. Might change in the next few days. Dont know if I like it or not.

New picture coming soon (hopefully). that one is almost 3 years old! lol

300:150

I am sitting in the office at church about to order flowers for the Mothers day service and I was told to average about 300 carnations to be handed out that sunday. With Fathers day approaching the following month, I was informed that usually it was a chocolate bar of some sort- but to only plan on 150.. at the most. Now I know I went to bible college and was never a left brain person, but if my anatomy class services me correctly, doesn’t it take two to tango? Doesn’t it take the female anatomy and the male to reproduce? So what happened?

Where is the papa?

I am a daddy’s girl to the core. I love my mother (more of that in a few weeks), but the bond between daughters and fathers is different. I was blessed with an amazing dad. I will always cherish my daddy dates (growing up and even now) and don’t want to picture my life without him. Yet, so many mothers, sons and daughters are left without them. The male counterpart is out there, but the Father does not exist. Why are there 300 carnations and 150 chocolate bars? What I think men don’t realize is what they are missing out on. And casue of that, the daughters are in the dark as well. No matter if the relationship with your dad/daughter is a good one or non existent, it effects both of you. Who is suppose to show the girls the respect and honor we deserve? Who is suppose to protect us and tell us we look pretty (even in those awkward middle school years)? Who is suppose to spoil us like a queen but teach us how not to act like one? Who is suppose to pray with us when our girlfriends tease us and we feel out of place? Who is suppose to remind us that we have a place to belong? Who is suppose to tell us to keep our pants on?* Who is suppose to care about who we date and where we are at? Who is suppose to flatten the guys tires that broke our hearts? Who are we suppose to look up to? Who else can love us like they do?

How can we get a glimpse of the Father’s love without a father?

My heart breaks knowing that daughters are missing out on a piece of life that was so vital to mine. My heart breaks knowing that these daughters have no control over it. We have no power over what family we are born into. But life isn't about circumstances, its about attitude. Our life is what we make it and how we react to it. We may not be able to have control over the curves in the road ahead, but how we deal with the wide rights and sharp lefts, that is what direction we will go in. They say that girls marry like their fathers, and guys marry like their mothers.

Show them who that is.

*one of the rules in my house that my dad shoved in our faces: “keep your pants on. if you do that, we eliminate a lot of problems.”

Me and my Pops at my graduation.

What now?

I desire change.
I want to go back.
I yearn for Revival.

I desire change in every way. I desire to see change in my life, in this town, in the church, in my friends, in this Godless world. I desire to see a change that will spark us to wake up. I desire for us to stop living amongst the mountain of dry bones, but to cry out “Live!” I desire for the change to start now.

I want to go back to where it all started. I want Acts days where people gathered together in their homes and were forced to be all or nothing-there was no middle. I want to go back to why we do this. I want to go back to how we do this. We do this because we live in a fallen realm ruled by the powers of Darkness and his followers. We do this by the all consuming power of the Holy Spirit that is working is us. I want the power that raised Jesus Christ from the grave to be erupting in us. I want to go back to the basics: Father, Spirit Son.

I yearn for a Revival. I yearn to see churches coming together instead of moving apart. I yearn for a “Jesus movement” to happen in my generation. I yearn for homeless and helpless to be fed and made full. For people who are seeking to find. A revival where we all work as one to shake the roots of this world. A revival that reminds us that this is not home.

A comeback. A vision. A passion.