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Ruby Tuesdays: a Mighty Woman (part eight)

Ruby Tuesdays: a Mighty Woman (part eight)

“She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.” (Proverbs 31:16).



To be honest with you (and what profit would there be to be otherwise?), I don’t think I have it in me tonight to write much of anything, especially worthy words pertaining to the P31 woman. Today has not been filled with many self-titled shining moments. Today has been a “get through” kind of day. You know the type … when just “getting through” feels like a huge accomplishment all on its own.

I’m almost there … almost through and ready to put the punctuation on this day of frolicking chaos. But before saying goodnight, I wanted to take a moment and give our “mighty woman” a final look to see if she might have anything to say to me before sleep has her say over me. And without warning, wouldn’t you know it … she does—have something to say.

Thus, taking her cue, I’m going to follow in her footsteps and try to implement one of her defining characteristics. I’m going to consider this field. I’m going to take possession of it, and out of the overflow of my heart, I’m going to plant a vineyard. Hold on; I think the planting (via a word study) to be worthy of the fruit in the end.

Consider. The Hebrew word zamam meaning “… to consider, to purpose, to devise. This verb derives its meaning from the idea of talking to oneself in a low voice, as if arriving at some conclusion. It denotes the action of fixing thought on an object so as to acquire it.”[i]

Field. The Hebrew word saday meaning “ … a field, oftentimes defined more descriptively as an open field. The noun is used to describe pastureland in which flocks of sheep were fed. The word is also used to describe a field or a plot of land that was normally unfrequented and in which one could meditate without being disturbed.”[ii]

Earnings. The Hebrew word periy meaning “fruit, produce.”[iii]

Buys. The Hebrew word laqach meaning “to take, get, fetch, lay hold of, seize, receive, acquire, buy, bring.”[iv]

Plants. The Hebrew word nata meaning “to plant, fasten, fix, to establish.”[v]

Vineyard. The Hebrew word kerem meaning “…a vineyard, an area where grapevines and their fruits are grown and cultivated intensely.”[vi]

A mighty woman, a woman worthy of a ruby’s bestowing, is a woman who houses an unseen hope and a “yet to be realized” possibility in her heart. She doesn’t just let an open field pass her by. Instead, she considers it. Talks to herself about it; fixes her thoughts on it, until she can almost taste the fruit of its vines as it passes from her lips into her soul, filling her needful longing.

Out of the overflow of that longing, she moves heaven and earth to lay hold of it and to subsequently fasten her dreams within its soil in order to cultivate its promise with all the intensity and expectancy of a pregnant woman waiting for the fruition of a nine-month laboring.

A mighty woman sees the end, even before its beginning. She cannot accurately determine the unseen bounty of the harvest, but she senses that it’s going to be good. That it’s going to be more than it was at the outset, and, most importantly, that it was hers to seed and to grow regardless of the yield.

Each and every day, friends, God presents us with an array of open fields. Untouched and undisturbed pastureland is waiting to be tilled by the possibilities and visions that we hold dear within our hearts. Your field may present itself differently than mine. God tailor paints a blank canvas according to individual preferences, needs, and giftedness. The field which you consider purposeful and ripe for the planting is meant to stir your obedience toward the relentless pursuit of purchasing, planting, and cultivating it through deliberate intention.

We cannot all harvest the same pastureland. What benefit is there in following behind and stepping over one another’s work when there is still so much open ground available for the taking? Today, perhaps even in this moment, God is presenting your heart with an unfrequented parcel of land in need of your attention. The desire to fasten yourself to its cultivating pulses within your veins until you can almost taste the fruit of your hard laboring.

What are you waiting for? What keeps you from taking that ground and walking its breadth and tilling its soil and cultivating its growth? Are you scared? Are you tired? Are you complacent? Are you lazy? Are you afraid that when you arrive on the other side of harvest time it won’t look like much … won’t harvest as amply as you intended on the front side of a dream?

I suppose you could choose to do nothing–to keep your earnings to yourself and to hold out for a time that seems to house more promise as to the outcome. But whoever sows sparingly, reaps the same (2 Corinthian 9:6), and sameness is not what God is after in the life of his children. He created us for his kingdom and for the pilgrimage of a great and consecrated commission that leads others to walk the same.

Thus, consider the field before you this day. For me, it’s been this empty computer screen, awaiting my words and hoping for an end product that yields something more than what it was at the beginning—a blank page. What it was an hour ago, was less than what it is now. What it’s worth? Well, I don’t hold that determination. God does, and in some smaller measure, you do as well.

This is my heart’s offering to you. I considered its availability. Out of the overflow of my heart, I took hold of it, fastened my intention toward its cultivation, and now I leave it in your lap for your contemplation. I pray it fruitful toward God’s higher purposes, including the purpose that he intends for you to walk this week. Thus, I pray…

Thank you, Father, for a night’s prodding that leads me to consider your timeless teachings and effectual words. Your Word is true and is everything that I need to live a godly and consecrated life. Give me the willing heart to receive your invitation to open fields this week. Give me discernment to know which ones you intend for my hands and which ones are better left to someone else’s. Sustain my heart for the harvest, even when the outcome seems unlikely and “less” than what I envisioned. Keep me faithful to the cultivation Lord; keep me faithful through to the end. Let the sowing of your grace within my heart be the storehouse from which I sow my offering for your kingdom come. Amen.

[i] Baker & Carpenter, entry for “zaman,” The Complete Word Study Dictionary OT (Chattanooga: AMG Publishers, 2003), 294.
[ii] Baker & Carpenter, entry for “saday,” The Complete Word Study Dictionary OT (Chattanooga: AMG Publishers, 2003), 1104-1105.
[iii] http://studylight.org/desk/?l=en&query=Proverbs+31%3A16&section=0&translation=nsn&oq=&sr=1
[iv] http://studylight.org/desk/?l=en&query=Proverbs+31%3A16&section=0&translation=nsn&oq=&sr=1
[v] http://studylight.org/desk/?l=en&query=Proverbs+31%3A16&section=0&translation=nsn&oq=&sr=1
[vi] Baker & Carpenter, entry for “kerem,” The Complete Word Study Dictionary OT (Chattanooga: AMG Publishers, 2003), 3754-3755.

Copyright © May 2009 – Elaine Olsen

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Please join us over at Refreshmoments for more Ruby Tuesdays’ posts. Also, if you would like to read my previous Ruby Tuesdays’ post, you can do so by clicking HERE. Shalom.

Ruby Tuesdays: A Mighty Woman (part five)

Ruby Tuesdays: A Mighty Woman (part five)

Join us today over at Refreshmoments for Ruby Tuesdays! Add your own post to the mix and link accordingly. To read my previous posts, click here.

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“In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers.” (Proverbs 31:19).


Distaff and spindles.

A calling, friends, if ever there was one. Why? Because it requires the use of both hands and a full attention therein. Spinning fibers into thread is a skilled and ancient art form … a gifting that exceeds our casual and over the counter purchases of fabric. Fabric roots back to the thread. Without thread, no blankets, no garments, no coverings of soft and tender to wrap our flesh and our need.

Modern technology has made the progression from wool to yarn an easier reach; but you’ve got to give it up for those who possess the capacity to create a tapestry through the giftings and sole intention of their hands. For those who have enough vision to see the end before the beginning. For the rare few who have the capacity to weave the unusable into something substantial.

Our modern approach to the finished product holds little interest to the weaver of ancient tradition. Instead, what matters to the weaver is the craftsmanship that exists to bring about the fruition of a hard day’s labor … a life’s long endeavor. To hold the distaff and the spindles and then to couple them in unison to create a thread that will serve a greater purpose is the lifeblood and heartbeat behind a weaver.


Indeed, a calling of supreme and everlasting significance.

As it is with the weavers of an ancient thread, so it is with a mighty woman. Thus, a question or two as it pertains to the holdings of your hands.

What boasts the grasp of your fingers this day? What distaff and spindles have been entrusted to your hands? What is the tapestry commissioned to your tender care and intention? What artistry has been assigned your life? What weaving is yours alone for the lacing?

We’ve all been given one. A gift. A treasure. An unusable holding assigned to us for its reshaping into something of worth. Mine doesn’t necessarily look like yours; yours could never perfectly fit into mine. Yet all are worthy as it pertains to the embroidering of an eternal kingdom.

From the very beginning, our gracious God has been working it out through the likes of you and me. For some reason beyond reasonable sense, He’s allowed us the gift of sacred participation … of adding our own colors and schemes and fanciful whimsies into the mix of a greater purpose. Through us, He seeds the full spectrum of a sacred and unified kaleidoscope.

It may look like chaos to us, but through His eyes and because of His imagination, the giftings that He has allowed our hands, paint a perfect portrait of a faultless to stand before the throne kind of finish. Accordingly, who would deny Father God the privilege of seeing his many threads weave together to unite as a beautiful fabric?

I don’t want the guilt of God’s objection. Instead, I want my hands to know the fullness of the distaff and the spindle that have been specifically designed for my grasp. I want to be one of the rare few who are able to imagine the end, even as I begin to weave my “unusable” into something of worth. I don’t want the fast forward approach of modern technology to rob me of the joy that comes from an intentional and, sometimes, challenging participation.

Instead, I want the satisfaction of holding a finished product that has come about because of a willingness to fill my hands with the business at hand. God’s business, not mine.

That, my friends, is a calling. When we take hold of all of that for which Christ Jesus has taken hold of us, we cradle our life’s long endeavor that always weaves substantial and that continually breathes with all the providential hope and joy of heaven.

Distaff and spindles. What’s in your hand this day?

Weave it well and with all the craftsmanship of a mighty kingdom participant who understands the truth of a sacred holding. Only you can spin your gift. It is your privilege to do so. Thus, I pray…

Show me the worth of my hands, Father. Fill them with the truth of your giftings for my life. Forgive me for thinking it not enough … not worthy of my intention or my time. Whatever treasure you place within my hands, give me a deliberate heart to tend to it with the finest service toward your kingdom end. Thank you for trusting me with a part of your perfected tapestry. May I always be found faithful to weave my portion in willing accord with you heart. Amen.

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Ruby Tuesdays: A Mighty Woman (part four)…

Ruby Tuesdays: A Mighty Woman (part four)…

Please join us over at Refreshmoments for more Ruby Tuesdays’ posts. Feel free to write your own and link up. To read parts one – three of my series, click here.

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“She gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family and portions for her servant girls.” (Proverbs 31:15).


Do you get up while it is still dark? I don’t, at least not intentionally. There are some days, though, when I come fairly close.

Like today, when my alarm clock came early. It didn’t “beep” me awake. It “pounded” me to my senses. The culprit behind the pounding? Little feet heralding their arrival to a new day as they made their way down the stairs with all the bright and bushy of an ardent squirrel.

They were “set” on go. I was “set” otherwise … on going nowhere. Nevertheless, I swung my legs over the left side of the bed (not an easy feat for a woman growing ever closer to 43), and quietly whispered the penchant of my weary flesh…

“Jesus, help me.”

Nothing more, nothing less, but, undoubtedly, the best greeting I could give to my day. When my children awoke this morning, they awoke to very little as it pertained to their mother’s early morning preparations. No bacon and eggs frying in a pan. No freshly folded attire laid out for a day’s wearing. No previously packed lunches.

No, when my kids greeted this new day, they did so with a blank slate waiting to be filled and with a momma who wasn’t quite feeling up to the task of participation.

I’m not an early riser. I’m a night owl. I go to bed while it is still dark, but rarely do I intentionally rise before the sun finds her place. Nights are the times of solitude in my home. After beds have been turned and teenagers have found their quiet, I am finally able to drink in some moments of devotional pause with my Father. I go to sleep with Jesus on the brain. He is the last one I think about … the last one I talk with … and the last breath I breathe before I say good-night to my world.

Accordingly, He is almost always the first One I think about when the abrupt of a new day announces its arrival. After the kids have been cared for and shuffled off to school, I often return to the confines of my comfort, grab my Bible and a good devotional read that sits beside. Those moments afford me the luxury of re-aligning my thoughts with God’s thoughts for the day. And while my routine probably wouldn’t make the best seller list for how to “do life” with Jesus, it works for me.

And lest we get “stuck” in our own ideas of how to best orchestrate a devotional life—that somehow we hold the market on the perfect approach to discipleship—we need to be willing to see our lives with Jesus beyond the compartmentalization that so often accompanies our well-structured faith.

Doing life with Jesus is not about when we wake up in the morning. It is not even about what we wake up to do with our day. Being a mighty woman—a woman of noble character and worthy of a ruby’s crown—has nothing to do with our doing. Rather, it has everything to do with our being—what we wake up to be everyday. And what we wake up to be must precede what we wake up to do if our doing is to have any lasting merit.

Cooking breakfast and folding laundry and the accompanying “to dos” that so quickly crowd our 24/7 isn’t the stuff of everlasting significance. Indeed, they are our necessary, but they don’t grow us in our faith. What grows us is our decision to be someone beyond our perfunctory checklists. Prior to our ever doing anything, we must settle on our being but one thing.

God’s.

And once that’s settled, once we’ve arrived at the conclusion that our life’s work revolves around the heart of servant discipleship, then we are more readily able to approach a day’s agenda worth of doing. It matters not the task that falls to us; what matters is the heart behind the task. It is a heart that is prepared to be many things to many people because it has been shaped by the hands of a God whose sole intention is on being all things to all people.

We simply stand in the flesh to be the witness of what He bowed in the flesh to become.

A servant. A foot-washer. A heart-cleanser. A least of these among the least of these in order that the Greatest of these could be seen, could be felt, and could be tasted at the deepest level of a needful grace. What Jesus came into this world to be was decided for Him long before He came into this world to do. And that doing?

Well, it’s everything to us as believers in the sacrificial work of the cross. Without the “doing” of the cross, we are left as is … without the hope and promise of God’s better. But Jesus’ decision to be that sacrifice … to wake up every morning in a posture of submission to the will of His Father … well, without that decision, there would be no cross. No week of remembrance. No rolled away stone, and no Easter celebration.

Doing a day’s work and doing a life’s mission is rooted in a decision to first being God’s servant. And if we’re going to “do” anything of worth for the kingdom, then we must do so from a heart that is convinced about being completely His. Otherwise, our deeds sow temporal and in selfish isolation.

Being God’s is a decision that I make prior to a morning’s arrival, while it is yet dark. It is a choice that goes to sleep with me and that wakes me up with the same. The Truth that slumbers within me is the Truth that walks next to me as I go in and out of my next twenty-four hours of agenda. I don’t want to have to wake up and set that in concrete. I want it cemented in my heart prior to my eye’s awakening.

From the rising of the sun, to the setting down of the same, I want to be God’s girl. Then and only then, am I better equipped to do God’s work.

Being over doing. It is the way of a sacred heart. It is the preceding choice that mandates all others. At least it should. Thus, may our being God’s this day serve as the guiding light that sets our agenda for our doing and that keeps us in a reverent posture as we go.

It’s both the least and the best that we can be for Jesus. As always,

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Copyright © April 2009 – Elaine Olsen

Ruby Tuesdays: A Mighty Woman (part three)

Ruby Tuesdays: A Mighty Woman (part three)

Please join us over at Refreshmoments to read more Ruby Tuesdays’ posts. To read part one and two of my series, click here.

“She senses that her gain is good; Her lamp does not go out at night.” (Proverbs 31:18, NAS).


My lamp wants to.

Go out tonight.

But my heart refuses its dimming. Not because I don’t need it to; I need some rest. But rather because I have a stirring that forces my thoughts. A penned up feeling that has surfaced today; the first of its kind, at least as it pertains to this child. My second child. A boy who’s grown up too quickly and who, in two months time, will throw his cap into the air and declare his finish to his childhood.

I’ve been waiting for this feeling to surface all year, but for whatever reason, it waited until today to erupt. I was unprepared for its arrival and yet completely willing to entreat its sway over my mind and my emotion.

Butterflies.

Flutters of worry. Flutters of anxiety. Flutters of anticipation. Flutters of exultation. Flutters of “what’s next” and flutters about “how I’m going to walk this one through.” Flutters of all manner of feelings, rolled up into a few moments of pause.

It brought me to my knees and my tears accordingly. To my prayers and my hopes for how this thing … this future that remains to be seen … is going to shift my season, yet again. Two years ago, I walked this road with my first son. It was different then. Harder in many ways. Time has developed my trust for the process, especially because that time has been seasoned with good decisions and good provision that have grown us all in very good measure.

My gain has been very good. All those years of seeding the soil of my eldest son’s maturation have blossomed into a budding harvest of manhood. I imagine the same for my second son. I hope for it; I pray for it; I long for it to walk in similar and smooth transition.

It seems that it will, at least for today. Today, despite my flutters, the future seems to be narrowing—to be falling into sharper focus as to where my son will further his growing over the next four years. Four of the five colleges to which he’s applied have laid some ample offers at his feet. Good offers. Financial packages that we couldn’t have imagined for him on the front side of this process.

On the front side, we couldn’t see a way. With an older brother already in college and with us living within the budget of our single-family income, we couldn’t imagine how we would be able to afford him the education at the school of his choice. So I didn’t.

Imagine.

On the front side.

Instead, I simply left it in God’s hands.

Good hands. Hands that are completely capable and willing to hold the trust and faith of our hearts.

And now, on the backside of a strenuous and lengthy stretch, it seems that we will be able to afford them all. And the mighty woman in me, a woman longing to be found worthy of a ruby’s bestowing, is sensing a very good gain through the hands of a very good Father who understands the needs of his children and of his provision therein.

God has moved on behalf of our household, friends. And when I discerned it today, when I began to see the prayers of my long and deliberate trust beginning to unfold in our favor, all I could do was fall prey to my fluttering. From one emotion to the next until I found my knees and my subsequent thanks.

God gave me more than an answer today. He gave me the gift of faith … of seeing how my believing Him on the “front side” of an unknown can be walked in peace and assurance until the answer arrives.

Rarely have I done that. Rarely have I fully trusted Him with my prayers. Rarely have I believed that He was truly and faithfully going to work it all out. But this time—this season of trusting God with my son’s college outcome—was my rare exception. This time, I chose expectation over doubt. Faith over fear. Peace over panic. And tonight, from the backside, it seems to me to be a very good way to walk a journey.

In full assurance of a good gain because a good God stands at the helm.

Long ago and many seasons before this one, God lit his lamp within my heart. I’ve spent the better part of forty years tending to that wick. Some years have walked brightly. Some dim. Some pure. Some tainted. But all have walked with the possibility of a brilliantly lit faith. Today, my faith burned with a radiance that surpassed them all.

Today, faith grew, and tonight, God’s wick within me is flaming with a peace that has rarely been my portion. God has stoked my heart with a night’s burning that will remain, despite this body’s need for rest.

I can take that rest because my Father is faithful to tend to my all in my stead, on the front side of tomorrow … on the backside of today. My times are in his hands. So are yours. And that, my friends, is a good gain all the way around. As always,

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