Little River Rocks...

Over the past few months, I've been busy putting together some promotional materials regarding some of my writing and speaking. The following video clip is a part of those resources. We recorded it this weekend, and I wanted to share it with you as a way of letting you know a bit of what's going on in my life and some of the current message God is writing across my soul.

Fair warning: the video is 14 minutes in length. If you'd rather take I pass, I understand. Thanks for standing alongside of me as I continue along the road of faith. And for my new friends at Little River, you rocked my world ... again. Truly, God is at work in your church and community. Keep to it.

peace for the journey,

a gracious grace revisited...

I want to tell you how I feel tonight.

That being said, feelings are sometimes a dangerous soil from which to write. Seeds planted there spring forth from the rawest point of the human condition, and I have not always found this to be the most profitable way to manage my emotions. I long to put parameters around my weekend, to somehow be able to express to you all that’s going on inside of me, but in doing so, I’m afraid my words will fail … won’t adequately capture the depth of what I’ve tasted.

I’m not sure I need to. Some moments are better left to the sacred sanctuary of our silence. But throughout the past forty-eight hours, and in the midst of my desire to bookmark this chapter in my life titled Little River UMC, I’ve come to a simple, yet grand conclusion about the weekend. A few words I’d like to serve as my “stone of remembrance” regarding the grace of God and just how far he has traveled on my behalf to bestow on me the gift of sacred participation in his kingdom work.

I love God and his Word more today than I did yesterday. I want to jump into the pages of Scripture and be part of the story. I want to bury my head in the midst of God’s truth until it spews out of my mouth and ears and hands and feet. I want to scour every inch of every word that’s been written in the Word until it becomes the final word behind my many words.

Why the passion? Why the urgency? Why the need?

Because yesterday God proved himself faithful … again. Yesterday, I stood as a living witness to the power and transformation of God’s Spirit existing within me. To be used by God and to know that this usefulness is happening as it happens is the greatest joy and confirmation I have ever known. It wasn’t the expressions on the faces of those who gathered that signaled to me my effectiveness; it was the impression I felt deep within my soul.

Yesterday, I made a heartfelt offering to God. In my time of preparation leading up to the event, I promised to give him my best—to be a student of his Word and then to take my “learning” and to share it liberally with his children. Tonight, my heart longs to watch the seeds of that sharing blossom into something more … perhaps some of the reason behind my stirring emotions this evening. But yesterday’s sowing belongs to another … to hands that are better able to grow all things in accordance with a master plan that exceeds my efforts at cultivation.

Father God knows best the next steps in the journey … both theirs and mine. I must trust him with the “finishing” work. In the meantime, he tells me that we’ve got some finishing to do on my end. That I should fix my eyes on the road ahead, cast a glance in a forward direction, and continue my tutelage under his capable leadership.

I want to be prepared for more moments of having my heart stirred by holy impression. Whether they come to me through a group setting, a one-on-one encounter at the local grocery store, in my home or around the table with friends, wherever and whenever kingdom seed is called for, I want my pockets full for the sowing.

I don’t want to have to do research when the world comes knocking. I want to live the research that has come to me through intentional study and preparation. I want to prepared, in season and out to give a reason for the hope that I carry within my heart.

Thus, I get back to the Word this week. I keep learning, keep listening, keep bending to the leading of my Father’s initiative. He has something more for me, and I plan on jumping into the pages of holy writ in order to find it.

Would you join me in the search? Pull up your chair alongside of me in God’s classroom to see what he might want to teach you? Would you open up the good book to a good story and take your place as an active participant in the scene? All of God’s Word stands ready for our willing participation. None of it is null and void of purpose. It’s still breathing with authenticity, with life, and with the power to change hearts, move mountains, and bring us to our knees in absolute wonder regarding its worth.

I want God’s wonder this week; I want the same for you. All of us, every last one of us, are given a measure of influence upon this earth. Let’s invest our portion toward kingdom end, and let’s do so in remembrance and thankfulness for the grace we’ve tasted. As always…

peace for the journey,

PS: You might remember me writing about Mr. Calvin and the strong impression he had on me when I visited Little River last year (click here to read). That's him in the picture above. He found me during a session break, and when I invited him to sit in on the last session with the ladies, he went home, put on a suit and returned. Truly, he is one of God's most precious saints. I'll see you again, Calvin.

a quick word from God's waters...

peace for the journey,

PS: Have a blessed weekend; I'll see you on the other side of it. Shalom.

the preceding effects of Presence

for the one whose pain caught my attention...

I recently received an e-mail from a stranger. She needed a safe place for her thoughts; I was privileged to receive them. If ever anyone needed a “passing by” from the Lord, it was her. I imagine it still is her, for there are no easy answers to the heartfelt pleas… just a lot of pain and partial peace wrapped up together in a life that belongs to her.

I pondered her situation throughout the night hours and awoke the next morning to a familiar Scripture text found in 1 Kings 19. A long ago story about a man who deeply desired a “passing by” from his God. His “weary and well-worn” led him to the comfort of a mountain cave—a place known for its proximity to the presence of God.

“Then the LORD said, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by.’ Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’” (1 Kings 19:11-13).

God would not disappoint Elijah. Instead, God would come to him in full measure… in a way that is often missed by most of us. Whenever we read this story, we tend to focus on the whisper of God—the gentle, tender voice of comfort that is most needed in times of great despair. But in doing so, in relegating God’s whisper above the preceding manifestations of his presence, I think we miss a valuable teaching about the existence of Almighty God.

God’s living presence radiates from the core of his being, mirroring (in much smaller measure) the ripple effects we witness after a pebble is thrown into water. Where God is, isn’t defined by his frame. I have no idea what God looks like, but in my wildest imaginings, I’m tempted to give him a body—a contained perimeter in keeping with something that makes sense to me. But God is bigger than my imagination and far surpasses any box I am content to wrap around him. When God walks, the ripples of that walking extend far and wide announcing (well in advance) his arrival to the world.

And here’s what I think.

Could it be that the winds and earthquakes and fires that precede his arrival are just God’s way of letting us know he’s coming? That he is, in fact, on his way to us? That the wind cannot help but sway with the reality that his feet are on the move? That the rocks cannot help but split and crack because they better feel the weight of his gravitational pull? That fires cannot help but fan into flames because of the intensity fueling his intention? Why are we surprised when we experience the wind, the movement of the earth beneath our feet, and the heat of a fire around our souls prior to his arrival?

Earth, better than humanity, recognizes the approach of its King.

“Clouds and thick darkness surround him; righteousness and justice are the foundation of his throne. Fire goes before him and consumes his foes on every side. His lightning lights up the world; the earth sees and trembles. The mountains melt like wax before the LORD, before the Lord of all the earth.” (Psalm 97:2-5).

God’s presence extends beyond his whispers. We do not often see him in these preceding moments of our sometimes excruciating circumstances. Many of you, this day, are in the midst of some earth-shattering situations. Pain and conflict are your portion, and you are tempted to keep your eyes fixed in the present rather than looking beyond to the Presence whose comforting whispers are soon to follow.

If we could get that, if somehow we could begin to see the wind, the earthquake, and the fires of our today as the beginning manifestations of God’s rippling presence, then, perhaps, we’d anchor ourselves tighter to the truth of a soon and coming sacred whisper. Our faith would grow with the expectation that what is currently seen and felt will soon be tempered and relieved by the unseen breath of God speaking his comfort into our chaos.

God is on the move, friends. He is in the business of “passing by” your way. He comes with intention and purpose and with the rippling effects that have always preceded his arrival. This doesn’t mean his coming has caused your earthquake, it simply and profoundly means that his presence cannot be separated from the world’s notice.

And the last time I checked, the prince of this world (the one whose sole intent for our lives is to steal, to kill, and to destroy) was very disturbed by the coming of the King. When God moves, so does he. Satan is the author of chaos and confusion, and he will go to great lengths to make sure you miss the arrival of your Father.

I do not fully understand the condition of human suffering, what’s allowed us by God and what we miss because of his grace. I don’t know the length of the leash that’s been extended to the enemy. It’s a hard wrestling for me, and at the end of the day, I concede those answers to my King. But just this night as I think about my new friend and her pain and the pain of so many who are desperately running to God’s mountain in hopes of receiving God’s whispers, I cannot help but imagine the rippling effect of God’s presence.

The winds ... the earthquakes ... the fires that precede his whispers. And somehow I am comforted, and all seems reasonable and acceptable to me.

Hang on for God’s whispers, friends. They are coming, just beyond these rippling effects of God’s approaching steps. The earth better understands the arrival of its King. It cannot help but be shattered by the thought and, therefore, bow in surrender to his steps. Neither can I.

May God’s good comfort and abiding presence be with you all this day as you seek him on his mountain. You are my friends, and you fuel my passion for knowing our Father at the deepest level. Thank you for sharing the road with me. As always…

peace for the journey,

Please remember that "Peace for the Journey"- © Copyright protected 2008 - 2009. All rights reserved and used only by the permission of the author, F. Elaine Olsen. Thanks!

a worthy entrance

“Go to the village ahead of you, and just as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ tell him, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here shortly.’” (Mark 11:2-3).

It occurs to me this night that as we stand on the edge of a new week with Jesus, we do so with the same words of instruction spoken over us that were spoken over the disciples nearly 2000 years ago.

To go ahead into the village and to find a colt for Jesus. Not for his possession, but rather for his procession. For his entrance into a world that needs to know its Savior cometh. That the long ago and faraway mention of a Palm Sunday parade is just as real and vital today as it was back then. Jesus is still in the habit of mingling with his children. The stage may have changed, but the stakes haven’t.

Eternity still hangs in the balance. There is yet a need for his exposure, for his truth to make entrance in the hearts of a generation whose hearts are hungering for the redemption of a cross and the resurrection from a tomb. Palms and waving branches are not meant for the isolation of a calendared Easter. They are the worthy proclamation of our faith. We may not carry them in the streets of Jerusalem, but we are called to carry them into the streets of our tomorrows.

Our workplaces;
Our homes;
Our schools;
Our hospitals;
Our meals;
Our phone calls;
Our e-mails;
Our churches;
Our meetings;
Our interactions;
Our interruptions.

Wherever our feet land becomes the worthy soil of our long-standing tradition. An ancient understanding that supersedes pageantry to become the stage where the King makes his entrance and where his disciples stand aside to allow him his moment in the light.

Go, my friends, make the necessary preparations in your heart to present our Lord and Savior to the world this day. We are the living conduits of his grace and mercy—the vessels he uses to make his entrance into the hearts and lives of those who fill our daily routine. It doesn’t make good sense to choose us, for I imagine that most of us have failed along these lines throughout our journey with Jesus.

But the gift of a new day is knowing that we’ve been given a few more moments to live our faith better, to wave our palms higher, and to present Christ bigger. When the world asks us (for there are almost always a few questions surrounding an unexpected parade) why we are doing this, may the answer of our hearts, speak the courage of our belief…

The Lord needs it, and we need to do it for him.

For him.

Let the branches of our celebration wave in honor of our King. Carry him well, share him liberally, and celebrate the entrance of his love into your life with all the fullness your heart can hold. May the hosanna of your witness and the hosanna of mine blend in chorus to be the sweet music of heaven announcing Christ’s arrival to his created people. I’ll meet you on the streets of Jerusalem this week. As always…

peace for the journey,

come and worship...

Do you know why I love running so much?


Not because of the cardiovascular benefits.
Not because of the endorphin release.
Not because it feeds a twenty plus year obsession.
Not because I hold any illusions of ever being a size 8 or even a size 10 again.
Not because it’s an escape from my children.
Not because it puffs me up.
Not because of the great outdoors.

Not because of any of these reasons.

I like running for many of them, but the reason I love running is that when I am running, I experience a closeness with Jesus that I don’t experience at any other times during my week. When I run, my heart feels most ready and most willing to meet him. Most amenable to the idea of the sky splitting wide open and of my running home to be with him forever.

Perhaps you’ve known this feeling. I imagine it comes to each one of us in different ways via different venues … at least I hope it does. When God meets us in an intimate forum, on familiar ground and with consistent measure, we cannot help but want more of him and, therefore, move our hearts toward him.

Whatever gets you to the feet of Jesus this weekend, do it. Meet him where you’ve met him before, and should the sky split open and your faith catch a glimpse of your glorious forever, cradle that moment in your heart as a sacred gift from a gracious God who loves you.

Who came for you. Who waits for you. Who longs for you... just you. Come and worship your King this day.



As always…

"see to it"...

“Tell Archippus, ‘See to it that you complete the work you have received in the Lord.’” (Colossians 4:17).

Last evening, I rushed home from our Bible study launch of Priscilla Shirer’s “one in a million” to participate in an on-line conference hosted by A Women Inspired. I missed most of the first session, but was excited to learn that my girl, Kristen from Exemplify, was hosting the second session. Like most of us in blogland, Kristen and I have yet to make a face-to-face connection. Thus, I was all the more eager to at least “hear” her voice; it didn’t matter much to me what she would be talking about. She could have talked fashion for all I cared; I would have listened (despite my careless attitude along those lines). It wasn’t the content I was after. It was the relationship. But my sister had a word to further validate the person she is … the person I’ve grown to love and admire throughout my time in the blogging world.

A simple, tender admonition to “see to it”. See to the work you have received in the Lord. She repeated the phrase throughout her presentation, and at one point, inserted my name into the mix (she knew I was there because participants are on-line “chatting” while the presenter is speaking).

“See to it, Elaine, see to it that you complete the work you have received in the Lord.”

I’ve thought a lot about that “charge” in the past fourteen hours, and I’ve asked the Lord a few questions along these lines. What is the work I have received from you Lord? What are you calling me to complete? What are the unfinished “chapters” that need words and punctuation and thematic flow? What is the work that is mine to conclude, and what is the work better left to someone else’s conclusion? Show me, Father, my place in your kingdom plan.

I went to sleep pondering my thoughts; I awoke with the same and then “happened” upon Mark 8:22-25 in my time of morning devotion.

“They came to Bethsaida, and some people brought a blind man and begged Jesus to touch him. He took the blind man by the hand and led him outside the village. When he had spit on the man’s eyes and put his hands on him, Jesus asked, ‘Do you see anything?’ He looked up and said, ‘I see people; they look like trees walking around.’ Once more Jesus put his hands on the man’s eyes. Then his eyes were opened, his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly.”

Today, like the blind man, I linger on the outskirts of Bethsaida with my questions regarding my “see to it”. My eyes vision partial; my heart all the more. Where I desire clarity, there are trees walking around. I am not alone in my contemplations; my Savior is here with me. In fact, he led me here by his hand and is administering his own form of clarity in the matter. He reminds me that clear vision takes faith, takes trust, and takes the necessary steps toward having trees turn into people. Dreams turn into realities. Hopes turn into the “surety and certainty” that roots me back to the Author and Perfecter of all “see to it’s”.

Seeing clearly begins with a willingness to walk with the Father to the outskirts of the village where we normally reside. Normal, usual, and daily routine don’t typically birth clarity regarding our “see to it’s”. Taking time to be Jesus in quiet isolation, away from life’s distractions, brings perspective. It is in those moments when we best pay attention to the hands of Christ’s administration over our needs. His “see to it’s” for each one of us are best seen when we can clearly hear the whisper of our names on his lips, offering us his tender admonition:

Elaine, do you see anything? What is coming into focus for you? See to it, child, see to the work you have received in my name.

How about you, friend?

____(your name)___, do you see anything? What is coming into focus for you? See to it, child, see to the work you have received in my name.

Today I have ample time for the contemplation because I am well aware of the human condition—the limits our bodies allow us to travel before putting a “halt” to our intentions, our lists, our “seeing to it’s”. It’s been looming for a few days now (read my last post). I’m fighting its arrival with plenty of prayer and over-the-counter wisdom, but even then, a “halt” has become my necessity.

Rather than seeing this day as a day lost regarding my many “lists”, I’m investing this time with my Father on the outskirts of my normal and asking him for his hands to sharpen my vision along the lines of my “see to it’s”. I believe him for as much, and I am exceedingly grateful for these moments I’ve been given to step aside with him in isolation.

I pray the same for you in the days to come. God has given each one of us some “see to it’s”. There are seasons when it’s hard to clearly determine his intentions along these lines, but as we take time to be alone with Jesus, he takes the time and is more than willing to sharpen our focus and to strengthen our steps for the duration and completion of the ordained works he has placed in our hands.

So in the words of the Apostle Paul, and in the words of my good friend Kristen, see to it today. See to Jesus. Be with Jesus. Walking trees are just the beginning of a sharper beholding. As you are faithful to hang on for more, God is faithful to reveal to you his more. As always,

peace for the journey,

Making Sense of Mustard Seeds

“Again he said, ‘What shall we say the kingdom of God is like, or what parable shall we use to describe it? It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest seed you plant in the ground. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds of the air can perch in its shade.’” (Mark 4:30-32).

I’m not sure how it all fits together; all the stuff of my Sunday.

Sick children;
Laundry rotation;
Clorox wipes;
Temperature taking;
Non-stop Sponge Bob.
A Wal-Mart run for meds.
Throw-up clean up;
Make-up homework;
Bible-study prep work…

Some prayers;
A Scripture;
A Kingdom;
A mustard seed;
Some birds.

A blog post.

But something tells me they fit; Someone compels me to make them fit … at least to ponder their collective wisdom and then to scrawl a few thoughts in between runs for cool washcloths and requests for more attention. And here’s what I’m thinking tonight…

They are God’s kingdom, these two young ones I’ve been given in my later years. I never imagined them on the front side of my motherhood. Their two older brothers were enough to fill my maternal longings. Then again, I never imagined starting over in a new marriage. But I did start over. And by God’s grace and only through a loving provision I cannot begin to merit or adequately explain, I was granted the privilege of having two additional children.

I’ve not always done it right; in fact, many times I’ve gotten it wrong. All of us have some battle scars to prove it. But even in the mistakes, I’ve always been mindful of the sacred responsibility to do it. To parent in the light and shadows of a greater cause … a kingdom cause. If I don’t, someone else will, and what God wants growing in my garden is a planting filled with the mustard seeds of a heavenly kingdom, not the weeds of a worldly domain.

The world grows weeds … useless, unimaginative, ugly to the eye, and difficult to erase.

All I have to do is look out my bedroom window to a neighboring lot and see the effects of a worldly neglect. But when I look inward to reflect on what’s growing inside these four walls, to the young ones who are within reach and are well-tended to this day, I see the effects of a Godly intention. A sowing that exceeds any amount of energy expended on the cultivation.

I see God’s kingdom—two children growing faster than my heart can handle. There is nothing useless, unimaginative, and ugly about them. Instead theirs is a beauty that, when beheld, no one wants to erase, for in their eyes … on their faces and beneath their skin, there radiates the glow of heaven. A golden hue reminiscent of a golden road that links them directly back to the inapproachable light of a glorious God.

God’s kingdom is like them; tiny mustard seeds growing alongside their brothers and sisters in Christ to develop into a garden without boundaries. A garden that multiplies over time to become the sought-after perch and shade for the birds of the air.

{a field of mustard plants in bloom}

We are there too, being cultivated and grafted into a kingdom without end. A golden carpet of splendor rolled out for all of humanity as the pathway home to the King. As you consider your “plant”—your part in God’s kingdom this week—be reminded that your beauty is needed. The light you carry within added to the light I carry within becomes an illumination that beckons weary travelers to pause from frantic flight and to, instead, find rest within our branches.

God has fashioned us to be his perch and shade to a world in need of a safe place to land. In doing so, his kingdom advances. One seed at a time; one heart at a time; one prayer at a time; one cold compress and one temperature-taking at a time; one Scripture at time. One blog post at a time.

That is how my Sunday fits together ... a day fast approaching its end. It’s been messy and cluttered and filled with ranging emotions, yet when all is cast at the feet of the King, all becomes material he can work with. He’s done it for me; he’ll do it for you as well.

Blessings this week as you fan into flame your candle and expand your branches to become God’s extension of rest to a people who need the truth behind their sacred worth. We are all the useful, imaginative, beautiful, and unerasable work of his hands.

Walk your inheritance well. As always…

peace for the journey,

Home

“By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.” (Hebrews 11:9-10).

I’ve been thinking about home this morning; not this one, the one where I currently lay my head at night, but that one … the one I’m headed toward.

In many ways, I’m already there. My heart resides with God. The older I get, the stronger my clarification in the matter that this life is but a walk-thru and, accordingly, about my need to keep the tent pegs pliable—moveable and sitting on “go” for the road up ahead.

I cannot see far down the path, but I can see enough to know that there is coming a day when I will sit with Father God, look back over all of this mess I’ve called my life, and label it done. Completed. Perfected and well-lived. In this immediate season of my crazy mixed-up life, I can’t imagine that moment of final clarity, but I can trust God to make all of my “current” count toward a better good, a greater plan, his kingdom gain.

I want to be on the move with God; not mired down in the frailty of my flesh which is content on keeping me comfortable. I want a heart and life that boasts the faith of a pilgrim journey—a stepping forth and stepping on so as to keep in step with a forward God. Sure, I’ve got a past that follows me and therefore invites me to an occasional backward glance, but the closer I get to home, the lesser my desire for an over-the-shoulder, looking-behind lingering.

I’m not into “stalled” living, friends. There was a time when I found some immediate gratification in my compliance to stay stuck, but not anymore. Perhaps age has something to do with it; statistics say I’m at the half-way point of my pilgrimage—my journey home that began 43 years ago. I’m not one to put a lot of weight into statistics; I’ve witnessed the fragility of life first-hand, and I no longer hold any assumptions in the matter.

The measure of time I’ve been granted on this earth matters little to me. What matters the most is that I walk my time forward, with God and with few possessions to weigh me down. Like the ancients of old, I want to live with the perspective that no matter how good things look here … feel here … seem here, things are going to be better there. Thus, I keep my bags packed, my boots on, and the tent pegs of my heart loosened for the next time when God says “move”.

In many ways, I’m hearing his summons along these lines. One or two big “moves”; a multitude of smaller “moves”, but all “moves” intended to keep me on the move with God’s plans for my life. One of the minor forward “moves” was making some changes to my blog. I resisted the “move”; I’m not one for change along these lines.

When I began blogging eighteen months ago, I had no inclination of moving past a few posts to whet my appetite. I quickly came to the realization that blogging (at least for me) was more than a casual journey into cyberland. Blogging has become the venue for me to creatively express the thoughts of my heart. Accordingly, I don’t take my “canvas” lightly. If I’m going to “paint” my heart, I want the brushstrokes to land in a beautiful place—a home that reflects the penchant of my longing.

For a while now, I’ve quietly sat on the sidelines, admiring George & Ashley’s work at tekeme.com. Believe me when I tell you that I’ve “searched” long and wide for just the right designers. Many of them weren’t a good “fit” for me because I’m a bit of a “designer” myself, therefore not easily pleased. But there was something unique about the Weis’ work. Something that clicked with me and allowed me the freedom to trust them with my canvas. Together, we talked and worked and shuffled around some ideas until we came up with this… a new look for peace for the journey.

The message will remain the same. Peace never loses its cutting edge. The author? Well, I’d love a make-over of my own, but alas it’s still the same elaine you’ve come to know. The canvas, however, is fresh and marks the beginning of a new chapter in my journey of faith. A faith that is pushing me forward and pulling me ever closer to the place of God’s intention.

Home.

My suitcase is well tagged, don’t you think? (Thanks, George, for thinking of it; I didn’t really catch the magnitude/analogy of it all until I saw the final product.)

The prayer of my heart for the future worth of this canvas exceeds the money spent on a new design. God will determine the worth in the end, both of my words and my heart. How I pray to always be found on the road with him, moving forward and with the Great Commission as my guiding strength.

Thank you for indulging my thoughts this day. If it wasn’t for you, my faithful readers, my words read in isolation. C.S. Lewis once said, “We read to know we’re not alone.” By you being here, and by my being there … with you at your cyber address … we share in the great fellowship of believers realizing that, in fact, the road home is crowded with kindred pilgrims. Let’s continue the walk with our Lord and with one another. What a privilege to carry my suitcase alongside all of you! As always…

peace for the journey,

PS: Please take the time to visit George & Ashley over at their website, tekeme.com. They do beautiful work and have the servants' hearts to go with! They are "come alongside you" kind of folk--two people who are content to work behind to scenes to bring about positive changes and progress for God's kingdom gain. I am the better person for having had our paths cross at this season in my journey. Thanks, again, Weis family, for your integrity in the process and for allowing God to hold the pen of your creativity. Blessings and then some...

PSS: Some of you have let me know that you aren't able to clearly "see" all the elements in your web browser. Ashley has sent me this link for you to update your Internet Explorer. She thinks this is where the problem lies: click here. Hope this helps.

a quick work part two...

OK... a second post in one day. You can bet this will never happen again! Thanks to Paula, "peace for the journey" has a new home address: www.peaceforthejourney.com . The old blogger address will re-direct you, but wanted you to know to make any changes along those lines. Honestly, this one nearly wore me out; godaddy.com and blogger instructions don't mix! But I knew who to call.

THANKS PAULA!

a quick update...

Hey friends...

As you can tell, the blog is undergoing a make-over with a few more additions to come over the next few days. I will also be switching the domain address to a dot.com address and will keep you posted as details arrive. I can't wait to tell you about the fabulous designers!

On another note, I wanted to let you know the winner of the Bebo Norman CD: #16 LauraLee Shaw from Selah, Pause, and Ponder. Congrats LauraLee!

A final thought for your Wednesday:

"My son, preserve sound judgment and discernment, do not let them out of your sight;
they will be life for you, an ornament to grace your neck.
Then you will go on your way in safety, and your foot will not stumble;
when you lie down, you will not be afraid;
when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.
Have no fear of sudden disaster or of the ruin that overtakes the wicked,
for the LORD will be your confidence and will keep your feet from being snared." (Proverbs 3:21-26).

Whatever you have to do today to preserve sound judgment and discernment, do it. Wrap them around your neck; do not let them out of your sight. We live in a fallen world, and the enemy's prowl has never been more vicious; more vigilant; more firm and more diligent.

But neither has our God's. He, too, is on the prowl (from a higher and better vantage point). His vigilance and diligence on our behalf exceed the enemy's attempts at the same. The LORD, our confidence, comes behind us and goes before us. Our responsibility, today, is to secure ourselves firmly in between these sacred Bookends.

Do not let your confidence slip; instead, fix your eyes on Confidence and find God's peace. As always...

peace for the journey,

whispers of home

“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge.” (Psalm 19:1).

“Look at that, mommy. I think God made it beautiful just for us.”

Those were my daughter’s words as we exited Wal-Mart not long ago. I’ve learned to keep my camera in my purse for moments such as these … times when God shows up and shows off just because he’s … well … God.

The pictures don’t do our beholding any measure of justice. The pinks were rich and deep and amply encased in the sky above us. Even before my daughter put thoughts to her vision, my thoughts stirred in the same direction.

Sometimes God paints a vivid explanation point to his presence; sometimes we take notice. Not all will give credit to the painter, but many will, knowing that such extravagance speaks a language beyond human understanding. Each and every day we’re presented with the handiwork of our Creator. His language is rich with a beauty that cannot be replicated in full. Words that…

Bloom a flower.
Paint a sky.
Stir an ocean.
Spark a fire.
Blow a breeze.
Bend a tree.
Wet the earth.
Ice the ponds.
Strip the trees.
Scorch the desert.
Dew the mornings.

Indeed, creation speaks a language all its own; in doing so, you and I are given the invitation to take notice. To see beyond the constraints of a civilized tongue and to accept God’s summons to converse at a deeper level. A holier level where our words are few and his are on display adding chapter and verse to our limited vocabulary.

Sometimes it takes the brilliance of a night sky to capture our interest, our notice and our acknowledgement. Sometimes it takes the heart of child who better understands her Father’s intention behind a vivid painting and who isn’t afraid to voice her praise along those lines. Sometimes it takes a trip to Wal-Mart where the contrary nature of such an expedition speaks in stark opposition to what is waiting for its customers beyond its doors.

Regardless of the methods God uses to get our attention, he intends to do so. He is worthy of our notice and is pleased with our acknowledgement regarding his creative genius—his goodness because of his “God-ness”.

This week will be filled with such occasions for each one of us. Times when God will pour forth his language via his creation. He will tailor make an invitation to suit our contrasting lifestyles and busyness. Most likely, it will be unexpected and unforeseen. But God will speak; there is nothing unexpected in his promises to do so. The unreliable factor regarding the “hearing” lies with us. Therefore, let us not miss the grace of God as it arrives; instead, let us open our ears, our eyes, our hearts and our minds, to believe and receive God’s language of invitation this week.

God is making something beautiful just for us. Notice him and find your praise.

The whispers of home are calling your name. As always…

PS: I will post the winner of the Bebo CD with my next post; happy Labor Day!

a night Visitor...

“One night Eli, whose eyes were becoming so weak that he could barely see, was lying down in his usual place. The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the LORD, where the ark of God was. Then the LORD called Samuel.” (1 Samuel 3:2-4).

I’m not a good sleeper, but last night I slept … good. The night colored darker than usual, the sound machine gently lulled my slumber, the overhead ceiling fan operated at full throttle, and there were no boys above me to creak the witness of their presence. I went to bed earlier than usual, tucking myself in with some truth from God’s Word and some audible prayers for the saints.

Sleep was sweet, and then sleep was interrupted. Not by a loud noise or a neighboring dog or even the sound of my husband snoring. No, the culprit behind my “bolt-upright in bed” response was nothing more than the sound of a page turning in my Bible. It lay open by my bed; apparently the breeze created by the ceiling fan forced its movement. In doing so, it forced my notice.

For a few minutes, I became cognizant to the spiritual domain hovering close by. I’m not a mystic, nor do I major on the physical manifestations of the “unseen” dimension that I heartily believe to be at work around us 24/7. But I’ve lived with God long enough and deep enough to realize when he is making a point.

He made one last evening, and before I could forget it, I grabbed the pad of paper and pen that lay bedside and wrote down these words in the dark…

That’s the way our faith is with God. He shows up, pages turn, and the whispers of his grace wake us from our dismal slumber.

As quickly as I was awakened from my slumber, I returned to its embrace. When I awoke this morning, I wondered if my imagination was to blame for my earlier alertness. One quick glance at my notebook told me otherwise. The handwriting was a bit skewed, but the words verified the moment. And this morning, I’m thinking that maybe someone today needs to hear the truth about a “showing up, page turning, whispering grace” kind of God.

Our faith activates his presence. Every time. There is no “maybe” on his part; no “if I feel like it” or “if I’m not busy”. Our God is faithful to arrive upon the scenes of our lives as we are faithful to seek him out. Not just at night (although I think the quiet of evening and the cover of darkness is tailor made for his arrival), but also during the daytime when light is obvious and our senses are most alert to the movement around us.

If God is about anything, he’s about turning the pages of our stories with the idea that a conclusion is fast approaching. We cannot stop his inevitable end to our stories; we can stall the progress toward that end … put up roadblocks and force some heavy editing in the process, but make no mistake. Our books are being written by the very hand of God, and one day soon, ours will shelve alongside the ancients of old where we will spend an eternity, together with them, enraptured by the “read”.

Some of you, today, need for a page to turn in your life. Need the hand of God to reach down from heaven and end the suspense of the preceding paragraphs that have captured your attention for a long season. You desire to move on, to get on with the rest of your story, but you are stuck … mired down in the confusion of some words and with an understanding that refuses to move you on to the next page. Perhaps your strength has waned with the reading, forcing your slumber and your inattentiveness. Perhaps, even your faith has taken a hit.

I understand. I, too, have hosted some seasons of being stuck. I’m afraid I don’t have a ten-step plan or a fifteen-chapter book that will guarantee your success at breaking free from its grip. No, when I walk through times of slumber, times of wishing for the “page to turn” but unable to do so through my own strength, the only thing I know to do is to keep walking … keep refusing the pre-mature end to my story that, apparently, has a chapter or two more to be written.

In those seasons, I simply bring the unfinished product to Jesus, lay it before him, and ask him to move it forward … to move me forward. To reach down from heaven with the whispers of his grace and to blow the pages of my life and the faith of my heart onward.

He’s never disappointed me; he’s always been faithful and deliberate with his showing up. Granted, the progress is sometimes a bit slow for my taste, but even then, I’m willing to concede that my taste and my Father’s are not always equal in their merit. I cannot see the finished product; he can, and so I make a decision to trust him with the pace believing that the end will arrive on time and with the sacred conclusion of my final perfection.

I don’t how this strikes you today; maybe it’s not for you. But for a few of you, those of you whose eyes have grown “weak” and whose perception has grown dim, I want you to know the truth of my late-night encounter with the presence of the living God. When you activate your faith and incline your heart in his direction, he is faithful to reach down from the heavenlies and to turn the pages of your story in perfect keeping with his will.

If you are stuck today, I pray the whispers of God’s grace to be your portion and the witness of his presence to be your comfort. Your story is but one divine breath away from turning its page and moving its words forward into the annals of an everlasting faith. May God grant you the courage and the wisdom to relinquish the pen into his capable hands. As always…

PS: I didn't plan on being here today, but then again, I didn't plan on a night visitor. I don't know when I'll be here again; I'm sensing the need to pull away for a few days. Please know that I keep you in my heart throughout the day. You've all become a vital and integral part in my faith journey, and I count it a privilege to live in fellowship with you. Enjoy this beautiful day we've been given; may the sure and certain presence of our Father find you on the pages of your story this week. Shalom.

PSS: I'm adding yet another Bebo song to this post; I somehow feel impressed to do so. This is for my new blogging friend, Shirl, at "sketches of a common life". Have you all met her? You need to ... this week. Her pen is gifted; her heart in tune with her Savior. I'll be giving away a copy of Bebo's latest CD to one of you for leaving a comment on this post.