Archive for February, 2012

February 29, 2012

Aint I A Woman?

As we leap forward today, I couldn’t think of a better Mother to lead the way.  Enjoy!

Alice Walker Reads Sojourner Truth

Sojourner Truth (1797-1883): Ain’t I A Woman?
Delivered 1851
Women’s Convention, Akron, Ohio

Well, children, where there is so much racket there must be something out of kilter. I think that ‘twixt the negroes of the South and the women at the North, all talking about rights, the white men will be in a fix pretty soon. But what’s all this here talking about?

That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain’t I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain’t I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man – when I could get it – and bear the lash as well! And ain’t I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother’s grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain’t I a woman?

Then they talk about this thing in the head; what’s this they call it? [member of audience whispers, "intellect"] That’s it, honey. What’s that got to do with women’s rights or negroes’ rights? If my cup won’t hold but a pint, and yours holds a quart, wouldn’t you be mean not to let me have my little half measure full?

Then that little man in black there, he says women can’t have as much rights as men, ’cause Christ wasn’t a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him.

If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back , and get it right side up again! And now they is asking to do it, the men better let them.

Obliged to you for hearing me, and now old Sojourner ain’t got nothing more to say.

February 29, 2012

If-I lose affection

If I am afraid to speak the truth, lest I lose affection,

or lest the one concerned should say  ” You do not understand,”

or because I fear to lose my reputation for kindness;

if I put my own good name before the other’s highest

good,

then I know nothing of Calvary Love.

Amy Carmicahel-IF

This is a mirror for me today.  I place my soul before the glass of this devotion and turn this way and that way.  Am I wearing the beautiful variegated coat of love well?  Is it fitting tight in the area of the praise and affirmation of man?   Why do I do what I do?  For whom do I live?   For a good name and honor among the bretheren?  For accolades, titles and place?   For identity in myself? Or do I live for another?  Do I speak words from the cross for the sake of the Christ, and the highest good of others? I find myself turning from this mirror to gaze into the clear pools of the Word of God.

Isa 50:4  The Lord Jehovah hath given me the tongue of them that are taught, that I may know how to sustain with words him that is weary: he wakeneth morning by morning, he wakeneth mine ear to hear as they that are taught.
Isa 50:5  The Lord Jehovah hath opened mine ear, and I was not rebellious, neither turned away backward.

It is fascinating to me the past tense:  are taught.  Discipled.  A disciple has the “words” of sustaining strength.  Words  awakened by grace, bathed in mercy, strong in justice, rich in love.  Words born from a place.  A place of experience  in the presence of  Messiah.

Act 4:13  Now when they beheld the boldness of Peter and John, and had perceived that they were unlearned and ignorant men, they marvelled; and they took knowledge of them, that they had been with Jesus.

Why?  I believe it is because they spoke with an accent.  A speech pattern that gave them away as being an alien and a foreigner in a land they should have called home.  They didn’t talk of death and despair. Their words were life, and hope and peace and joy and expectant anticipation.

Col 4:6  Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer each one.

Do my words make people thirsty?  Isn’t this the  reason they are to be seasoned with salt?   Salt makes you thirsty. After our conversations is there a cry in the heart of the hearer to plead with the Savior,as the Samaritan woman did:  “Lord, give me to drink of this water, that I might never thirst again? “

If I long for the affections of the Bride at the expense of the Bridegroom, I have ceased to be a Friend, and have become a competitor for the affections of the Bride.  If I long to secure my reputation and give to those who ask a compromised truth pleasing and tickling to their ear, I know nothing of Grace.  If I seek my place in this world and cause another to stumble at the truth,  I know nothing of Calvary Love.

Oh Lord, keep me open to your voice, and steady to your cause, willing in your service, and honest before all men.

February 28, 2012

If-The noise of rain…

If I cannot catch “the sound of noise of rain” ( 1Kings 18:41)

long before the rain falls,

and, going to some hilltop of the spirit,

as near to my God as I can,

have not faith to wait there with my face between my knees,

though six times or sixty times I am told “there is nothing,”

till at last “there arises a little cloud out of the sea”

then I know nothing of Calvary love

–Amy Carmichael IF.

I come to this devotion trembling.  Here is the heart of the matter. I may have faith to hold steady for six but sixty? The long hours of hands extended to the Father, believing for the promise and the answers come back…no change.  There is nothing.

The seeds of accusation that lie dormant in my heart in those seasons of well watered presence, come bursting to life at the first sign of drought to choke out beauty and faith with their thorns. The slanderous lies against the knowledge of the love of God that hurls against my soul with gail force winds, revealing that my anchor has lost it hold on the cross beam of Christ, and I am adrift in the sea of forgetfulness.

The warrior king and  psalmist of Israel must have rowed  many a dark night’s journey in these soulish waters.  His tongue the pen of a ready writer recording for posterity the words of Psalm 103.  I imagine the trumpet call of battle as he commands his soul to bless the Lord, and forget not all his benefits.  His words take shape in the form of  the war trained hands of a weathered captain who has ridden many storms without loss of life or cargo.  Who knows how to crest each wave with a firm grasp upon the wheel.  With each thunderous crash I can feel the voice of the psalmist raging against the relentless, assaulting waves:

“The Lord is gracious and compassionate!” The wheel threatens to rip from his hands as he steadies for another crest.

“Slow-w-w to anger, and RICH in LOVE!” With a creak and a groan the ship lifts from the depths of the swell and is thrust forward with vengence.

“He knows our frame…” The ship pitches and rolls, “we are but Dust”.  There in the knowledge of our creator, and the uniqueness of our frame,he throws out the  anchor as the penetrating rays of the light house warn of the rocks of despair and once again hope is set on the one who is the everlasting God, and Father, who rewards us not according to our trangressions .

I know our Savior rowed a long Gethsemane night, sweating drops of blood at the stern of his soul, until he could say with perfect peace. “Not my will but yours be done” and he showed us Calvary Love.

Oh Lord. Keep me ‘steady as she goes’. Lord I believe, help my unbelief.

February 26, 2012

If- What Do I Know of Calvary Love, by Amy Carmichael

A devotional book from Amy Carmichael was given to me some time ago by a dear pastor friend. Amy Carmichael is one of my sister sages who departed before we had a chance to meet in person, but whom I have cherished getting to know through her volumes of poetry and inspirational writings.  You can read more about her work and life here.  I have felt the desire to work through these in my quiet time, and allow the statements of this great Indian Missionary to lead me to a deeper revelation of my heart, and the nobility of obedience I am called to.  Over the next few days I would like to share my thoughts with you.

The book IF came into being after a long sleepless night of soul searching,  Amy Carmichael writes in the forward how one evening in the mission a worker came to Amy and shared with her that one of the younger ones had missed the way of love and was going astray.  Amy began to question the Lord. “Is it I?  Did I fail her?  What do I know of Calvary Love?” Sentence by sentence the “If’s” came almost as if spoken into her ear. They were copied and used for the Fellowship, eventually becoming a book.

“That ye may be able to comprehend what is the breadth, and length, and depth,and height, and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge”

If I belittle those whom I am called to serve,

talk of their weak points  in contrast perhaps with what I think of  as my strong points;

if I adopt a superior  attitude, forgetting “who made thee to differ? and what hast thou that thou hast not received?”

then I know nothing of Calvary Love.

I am coming to a greater understanding that I have nothing which has not been given me by the Father.  In Genesis we see before man was created, before there was anyone to till the earth, the world is in a state of pregnancy, paused in its desire to burst forth in to life, because there was as yet no man to till the ground, and God had not sent rain upon the earth.

Gen 2:5  And no plant of the field was yet in the earth, and no herb of the field had yet sprung up; for Jehovah God had not caused it to rain upon the earth: and there was not a man to till the ground;

The divine precedent of God is all life comes from, is sustained by and returns to Him.  If He doesn’t send the rain, we have no bread.  This causes me to be a thankful petitioner of daily grace.  If I have come to embrace this reality, and recognize my meek, and helpless position before the mercy of the Father I have no right, or authority to look downward or sideways at those I am called to serve.   I have no strength but His, I have no love but His, and when I see failings, and short comings in my fellows, I realize:  “but for the grace of God there go I”.

Oh Lord, keep me in the shadow of Calvary, that my eyes be not wayward and only see others through you.

February 25, 2012

To A Friend

To A Friend-
Listen, girl, these moments are clouds:
you let them pass and they’re gone.
Soak up their moist touch. Get
drenched.
Don’t waste a single drop.
Listen, downpours don’t remember
streets,
and sunshine can’t read roadsigns
Parveen Shakir, Urdu Poetess

What sound advice. Drink up our moments, for really that is all we are given.

February 24, 2012

And After-The voice of Mom.

I Kings 19:11-12

-and after the wind an earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire;and after the fire a still small voice.

The still small voice is the “Bat Kol” of scripture. The daughter voice of God. The gentle, soft feminine, almost an echo. The nurturing sound of a Mother’s heart. I wonder …

What are you doing here Elijah?

I am empty, and I couldn’t find you-

I am not to be found in manifestations of power alone Elijah…there is more to me than wind,earth,fire-

What are you doing here Elijah?

I am hurting, and alone.

You are not alone, there are seven thousand who haven’t kissed the hand of Baal.

What are you really doing here?

I need to know you.

I  knew if I came you would meet me- and I am tired.

I want to come home.

I just marvel that God chose to speak to Elijah in the feminine soft whisper of the Bat Kol in Elijah’s moment of deepest despair.  From that voice he received instruction, encouragement, rebuke, and purpose.   God has given us to the earth to share that part of His heart.  We as women can speak to the pain and despair of others from a personal place of knowing that envelops the broken and lifts up the weary hands that hang down, and propels lives back on the path of living.  If we could see sorrow as opportunity to grow in the ministry of “voice” how many more Elijah’s would move from their caves of resolution to anoint kings, mentor disciples, and be caught up to heaven in chariots of fire? In our words lie the power of life and death, choose life!

February 22, 2012

Praying Dirt

Here is an excerpt from one of the newsletters I receive (http://www.skipmoen.com/hebrew)


Prayer existed before the Fall.  The earth-formed communicated with the Creator and in the process received life-enhancing purpose, balance and instruction.  In a fallen world, prayer is even more important, not because we now approach God with requests but because the world itself in under the power and influence of the inhuman. The systems of this world are designed to remove your humanity because they are designed to remove you from a relationship with your Creator.  Whatever is self-driven leads to inhuman behavior.  True humanity is found in humble submission to the Creator.  The closer I get to selfless obedience, the more human I become.  How do I know this?  Because God manifested Himself in His Son and demonstrated what truly human being actually looks like.  It looks exactly like Jesus, absolutely devoted to the will of the Father.

This spoke so clearly to my heart today.  We are most human when we are caught up in prayer to our Creator, petitioning, and listening, and receiving from His heart our daily bread. Oh God, keep me from the self-driven inhumanity of lack of humble submission to the one who formed and fashioned my inmost being, and gave me the breath of life.
February 20, 2012

I am a size 8. Do I still have your heart?

Girls being force-fed for marriage as fattening farms revived

Campaigners in Mauritania accuse the new military regime of turning a blind eye to a cult of obesity among young girls being groomed for suitors, where a woman’s size indicates the amount of space she occupies in her husband’s heart.

Here is a headline you don’t see everyday, or any day for that matter. Especially here in the oh so ever size conscious USA.  I am aching tonight over the articles I have read regarding the status of femininity world wide.  Here in America we  see that discrimination exists in pulpits, offices, paychecks and some social settings, but no one is making my ten year old grand daughter marry a 3o year old man in a mass wedding, or suffer female genital mutilation to be “sexually controlled” , or strapping bombs to her body,wrapping her in a blanket and sending her in to mine fields to make a path for the “holy” men to follow.  I do not have to worry that my propane stove has been rigged to explode because I was seen talking to my male neighbor outside my driveway.  But this is a reality for the majority of my sisters.  In an Arab report concerning the status of Arab women this quote was made: ( http://www.memri.org/report/en/0/0/0/0/0/0/1689.htm) 

“It is said that women must be ‘tamed’ like horses and other animals – and this ‘taming’ is carried out by using violence against her, until her independent spirit – including her thoughts, her aspirations, and her dreams – is ‘murdered.”

I have carried in my heart the pain of the female plight since the day I was four years old and took a switch to the neighbor boy who was torturing a stray momma cat for the fun of it.  He was twelve and twice my size, but I chased him a block to his house tears streaming down my face and the backs of his legs showing red welts where my switch had hit him.  I got in trouble because “girls don’t act that way towards boys, and did I want him to do something bad to me when my mom or some adult wasn’t around to protect me?  I should be careful.”  I was four and I knew what I had done was justice and right and I also knew there was something “bad” about the fact that I was a girl.  Then I found out

who we are.

The journey of discovery in this mystery of our creation has enthralled and challenged me and caused me to fall in love with The God of  Creation all over again.  By design we are valiant, strong, perceptive nurturers, life givers, first waters, origins of truth-and we have an enemy.  More vile and deceptive than we know.  He waits to devour every creative birth we labor to bring into the world. Every aspect of beauty he seeks to mar, each piece of wisdom he seeks to twist, every strength he tries to shackle all in the name of order, protocol, tradition, and  honor.  These men have bought in to these lies because they have cast away from themselves the Ezer-Kenegdo, the help-meet, the one suitable for them, the one whom God designed to guide, protect, soften, nurture and keep them in the ways of the Creator.

Today the burden of my prayers for us  has overflowed and I have shed the blood of my eyes…tears.  In the ancient Hebrew Picture language that is what tears are called. The blood of the eye.  No wonder our

Beloved stores every one we weep in a bottle, they are precious reminders that we are alive.   I have pondered why today?

Why is the groan so strong in my soul?  Why am I keening an ancient song?  My thoughts have turned to this morning, and  the four young

girls in service  who found their way to my lap and my arms. Looking into their faces so free, and real and knowing there are other faces being forced to eat  their own vomit in order to be “beautiful enough to marry.”   Mothers, aunts, uncles, fathers and brothers buying in to the deception of the father of all lies, the original murderer of the image bearers,  and allowing him to seek  and devour the glory of God in this earth.

I held these daughters who don’t belong to me a little closer to my heart today, praying that they will find their

own willow switch.  Praying for courage to  chase the ugly lies that have already begun to whisper to them, out of their hearts forever.  But, what of Mauritania’s daughters? Who will carry them?

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/mar/01/mauritania-force-feeding-marriage

February 18, 2012

Blind Sunflowers

In reading a poem from one of my favorite authors Amy Carmichael, a line rang from the page with imagery for our time in the Son. 

“Flood me with hope today for souls perverse, undone, for sinful souls that turn away, blind sunflowers from their sun”.

Blind Sunflowers. In nature this is impossible. The root being and core design of the sunflower is to follow the gaze of the sun across the hours of the day, bending it’s head in prayer at the drawing in of the day.  Yet is it possible for the image bearers to so deny the essence of our creation, the knowledge of the Holy in our souls that like the sunflower in Carmichael’s poem, we turn away from the warmth and light of life by whom we have been granted motion, bios, breathe, and being.   Can we force ourselves to be blind to the movements of The Spirit and stand rigid in our days darkened, and dance-less, and unaware of the festival of the living rhythm of The Son?  Oh Maker, open the eyes of our heart, that those who want, may see. That those who thirst may drink. That those who hear may know.

Hope Through Me

by:  Amy Carmichael

“Hope through me, God of Hope,

Or never can I know

Deep wells and living streams of hope,

And pools of overflow.

Flood me with hope today

Four souls perverse, undone,

For sinful souls that turn away,

Blind sunflowers, from their Sun.

O blessed Hope of God,

Flow through me patiently,

Until I hope for everyone

As Thou hast hoped for me. “

February 12, 2012

Wisdom From A Boiling Pot.

I have a theory about the inspirational writers known as “Auhors Unknown”.  I wonder if they are not ministers of angelic presence around us. So often when words are written to lift the heart of man and left to stand alone, no credit being given to the speaker for their own affirmation, those words seem to increase in volume. Perhaps these are God’s graffiti artists painting his love upon our hearts, no human credit given, leaving the credits to ascend to the throne….

Here is a canvas to consider.  One that has touched my heart and left an impression.

A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water. In the first, she placed carrots. In the second, she placed eggs and the last one, she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil without saying a word. In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl.

Turning to her daughter, she asked, “Tell me what you see?”

“Carrots, eggs, and coffee,” she replied. She brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted they got soft. She then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. Finally, she asked her to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled, as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, “What’s the point, mom?”

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity–the boiling water–but each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior. But, after sitting through the boiling water, its insides became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water they had changed the water.

“Which one are you?” she asked her daughter. “When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?”

Think of this: Which am I?

Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity, do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and a hardened heart?

Or am I like a coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hours are the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevate to another level?

How do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

(Author unknown)

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