freedom

Wisdom’s Way

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Wisdom’s Way

 

King Solomon also built a fleet of ships . . . and Hiram sent his servants with the fleet, sailors who knew the sea, along with the servants of Solomon.
I Kings 9: 26, 27 NASB

 

A screen door creaks shut.
Sheer curtains billow with the breeze.
Sun-bleached towels dry on peeling evergreen.
Mismatched dishes hand-washed and set “just so!”
The rhythm of the clock matches the singer.
Watercolor gems mesh with metallic memories.
Lakeside path, rickety stairway and abandoned tree house . . .
The gateway to songs, stories, history lessons, and decisions.
A door of hope opens. 

Wisdom is found—
It can’t be bought, sold or bartered.
Solomon cultivated knowledge, trade, and peace by the sea.
His men were taught to sail.
Face the wind! Tighten the tackle.
Move forward at an angle.
Trust the one who knows the seas.
Ride the waves. No fear! 
God’s love is victorious.
Let your freedom flag fly!  

Isolated treks tested my courage.
Still, I prayed, “Show me your protection.”
And I walked . . . then ran!
Daily banter with an elderly Canadian quieted my internal wrestling.
He remembered me from last year. He teased, “I’m sweating just watching you.”
I replied, “I’m running for us both. I’m burning extra calories looking out for the bear.”
He reassured, “The bear is dead!”
“Wait. What??? There is a bear?”
“Yes. Indeed. But it is dead!”

It took me a minute to understand the Canadian’s trauma. The bear was killed in the campground the afternoon my husband and I chose to hike the nearby Chutes. The bear surprised the camper when it went after his crockpot of simmering soup. 

The day before, not realizing the bear was harassing the neighbors, campers, and staff, and making the dogs skittish, I walked eight miles guarded and unscathed. The German shepherd and small mutt met me every time on the dusty road and isolated, rocky beach. They were on edge and bumped me, time and time again, nearly knocking me over. They tried to move me out of harm’s way! They were as concerned as the owner’s young son who drove his four-wheeler up and down the road in a furious frenzy. In hindsight, he looked pale. But I knew nothing! 

Fear is a poor chisel with which to carve out tomorrow. ~Anne Frank’s Papa 

Dreams and nightmares scuffled with soup.

Don’t mess with my soup. One cannot mix healthy with unhealthy. I make my bone-broth from scratch. It’s time consuming. Ken de-bones the chicken, and I make the nutritious broth and soup. The one who knows my husband best is dismayed, “What are you doing?” Another parent wants to combine my vegetarian, black bean and bone-broth soup with creamy Italian sausage, tortellini soup and sell it at a T-ball game. They both look tasty. But clearly, they shouldn’t be mixed. Don’t mess with my soup!

I stroll along the quarter mile beach and consider the nuggets of the week.  

Brennan Harbor’s treasured finds—white, brown, green, purple slivers and slabs
of glass . . .  and broken porcelain pottery, a navy canon and green ivy pattern . . .
A Gettysburg battle was won because one unlikely man chose to charge!
And the Lord overcame my walls and defenses with His love.
Slavery ends. A penny is held. Seen. Understood.
The least of these has purpose.
Set the table. Pass the Daily Bread. Open the door and serve.
Smile . . . I choose to smile.
Breakthrough happens. I like my smile.
The power of who I am is displayed when I smile. (The Traveler’s Gift)
And I say, “Mine is wrought with Holy Spirit power!”  

Yes, I’m the crazy foreigner who runs where the bears lurk.
(But they won’t bother you!)
The gal who unearths trash and searches for glimmers of light along the shoreline. Yes. That’s me! I’m gathering up my ruins, and the Lord is making beauty.

 “Are you leaving tomorrow?”
“Yes! Yes, I am!”
“Will you be back next year, eh?”
“I believe so, God willing!”
“Well, I hope to see you then!”

He remembers me.
And my Lord re-members me.
Waves lull me to sleep.
Did I say “sleep?”
Yes! I slept soundly. 
I am home.
Martha Mae

I will go before you and make the rough places smooth; I will shatter the doors of bronze and cut through their iron bars. I will give you the treasures of darkness and hidden wealth of secret places, so that you may know that it is I, The Lord, the God of Israel, who calls you by your name. Isaiah 45: 2-4 NASB

 

 

Woman, you are Freed!

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“I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.” Luke 13: 5 NASB

     My daughter has teased me on more than one occasion that I need to attend “Dusting Anonymous” classes. However, frequent dusting is the least of my culpabilities!
     The Lord convicted me of a greater problem when I bent to dust my dining room table legs, and I whacked my forehead on the corner edge. I was mad-cleaning, cycling with past hurts; and yet, I lead a class that helps attendees work through loss and teaches how to process similar dirt and chaos. The ugly, camouflage bump that swelled and spread matched my heart wound.   
     Although, I don’t want to dismiss my hurt and feelings, I realized I had an unforgiving spirit!
     Whether we’re sixteen, twenty-six, thirty-six, or sixty, we may strive to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God; yet, we sin and fall short of His will, time and time again.
      Whether we commit a great evil, or we bare a bruise on our forehead from our “swamp sludge,” the Lord calls us to repent; and He intercedes on our behalf with grace and mercy.
     In Luke chapter 13, Jesus tells a parable between a passage on the consequences of sin, a guarded aqueduct and collapsed tower, and a healed woman. A vineyard owner planted a fig tree; and for three years he waited for fruit. He was ready to cut the worthless tree down! But the vineyard keeper stayed his hand—He wanted to give the tree more time. He offered to break up the hard ground and feed the soil.
     Likewise, Jesus doesn’t give up on us. He has utmost patience to make our heart like His.
     The crippled woman was bent double. Her sickness caused by an evil spirit. Satan had bound her for eighteen years; and it wasn’t just a physical condition. Jesus raised eyebrows and protests by healing on the Sabbath. But the woman was set free; she stood straight and gave glory to God.
  Forgiveness is not of us. It is not natural or even possible in our own doing, for it is of God.
  The crippled woman didn’t petition the Lord’s help. Instead, Jesus invited her to come unto Him. Sometimes, God requires faith in order to heal; but in other instances, He invites the sick one to draw near. And His presence is enough. 
      Curiously, only two people questioned me about the bruise on my temple, my daughter and a close friend. How much more do we miss heart wounds? Words often leave a lasting mark, especially when they cut to the core of our identity, while my bruise disappeared in a little over a week. Lysa Terkeurst writes, “Relationships often die not because of conversations that were had, but rather conversations that were needed but never had.” Nevertheless, there are times it isn’t safe to address the infractions.
 Whatever your wound or ailment today, anger, betrayal, rejection, unforgiveness, bitterness, or else, you’re hoping I start a “Dusting Anonymous” class. . . God calls us to repentance with His love, mercy, and compassion. Towers of self-provision and self-protection must fall! Like the vineyard keeper, the Lord intercedes and warns that judgment is coming.
  I’m praising God for His patience and perseverance, for being the attentive Gardener who sees and knows our hurts and hearts. Yet, He expects growth and beauty to bloom. He digs through our dirt, fertilizes the soil, prunes the branches, and waters our dry, hard ground. And He helps us to forgive.
  What keeps you in bondage? Draw near to Jesus. Freedom is found in Him.
 

Be blessed,
 

Lily Mae

  

“Woman, you are freed from your sickness.” Luke 13: 12 NASB

Compete With Horses

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          “If you have run with footmen and they have tired you out, then how can you compete with horses? If you fall down in a land of peace, how will you do in the thicket of the Jordan? For even your brothers and the household of your father, even they have dealt treacherously with you, even they have cried aloud after you. Do not believe them, although they may say nice things to you.” Jeremiah 12: 5,6 NASB

 

Jeremiah had faced the hostile and perilous plots of his family members and close comrades. They roared against him, defiant and stubborn, and hoped to cut him off from the land of the living so that his name was forgotten. They planned to silence him by murder. He was like an innocent lamb led to slaughter. He was weary from holding in the weight of Jerusalem’s doom. Judgement was imminent. God’s people had ignored the plight of the poor, orphans, and widows. Furthermore, wicked prophets had offered false peace to Israel; her healing was superficial.

God had called Jeremiah before he was born to speak hard things; however, he was weary. There seemed to be no Balm in Gilead, no cure or safe refuge; and no trustworthy person. Jeremiah cried to the Lord in desperation; his tent was torn down and his flocks were scattered. The weeping prophet’s wound appeared incurable. (Jeremiah 10:19-21)

The Lord gently chastised Jeremiah by saying that if he ran with men, and they tired him out, how could he compete with horses? Horses anticipate the battle; their nostrils flare and snort, and they whinny with the wind. They kick their hooves into the dirt and dust, and take off unafraid. They own the rugged race. To run against mighty stallions, Jeremiah had to look straight ahead. He couldn’t compare himself to others in the race, nor listen to their voices.

If Jeremiah grew weak and stumbled with small hurdles, how would he endure when the battle raged? If he fell in the land of peace, what would happen when the river flooded?

Floods often leave behind a path of destruction. Volunteers must clear debris and waste; and drywall must be stripped to its framework to bleach and purify the studs. Light is also essential to dry out the homes, churches, and businesses. Otherwise, mold and mildew set in.

     Jeremiah had to tune out the cynics, focus, and get to work. God demanded holiness! 

The challenge continues today. Compete with horses. Set your gaze on Jesus. Don’t let doubt, distractions, or comparison thinking sideline your efforts. Don’t dread the dirt and ditches left behind by broken people. Learn to be comfortable in the uncomfortable. We lose ground when we compare ourselves to others. But Jesus’ example sets us free.

     Jesus is love. He is gracious and merciful and compassionate; and He is mighty to save!

Let the thunder of mighty hoofs spur you on. The race may be difficult; and things could get worse. But victory belongs to the Lord!

Ready. Set. Go!

Lily Mae 

     God does not tell you what He is going to do; He reveals to you who He is. 

Oswald Chambers.

     

 

 

 

 

Three Days

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So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. John 8:36 ESV

     Jesus was crucified and buried in a tomb three days. However, it couldn’t keep Him bound. Light pushed through the dark. Linen wrappings were left undisturbed. Hope is alive.

Easter remembrances had passed, but as I studied my passages for the day, I circled back. Three days.

Saul had once persecuted Christians, the believers and followers of Jesus. He’d breathed threats against them and hunted them down. But on a road to Damascus, God got his attention. Three days Saul was blind and couldn’t eat or drink. But he hears. The scales fall from his eyes. He sees. While on a road called “Straight,” Saul is saved, and he begins to preach the gospel. Radical transformation occurred. (Acts 9: 1-25)

The sons of Israel were desperate as they searched for water three days. (Exodus 15:22)

God directed Joshua and Israel to camp three days before they crossed the Jordon River. Wait. Rest. Move. Then God heaped back the waters and made a way to pass through—to go beyond the river. Their story didn’t end at the water’s edge. The promised Land was on the other side. God wanted them to go in and possess the land. (Joshua 3,4)

Rahab, a harlot, hung a scarlet cord in her window and sent God’s messengers into the hill country to hide. She clung to hope for three days. Rahab and her family were saved when the walls of Jericho crumbled; and, she became part of Jesus’ lineage. (Joshua 3, 4)

Three days in a tomb. Resurrection. Three days blinded. Hearing is fine-tuned. Sight restored. Straight road. Salvation understood. Three days thirsty. Revival. Three days a cord secured hope. Rescue and redemption. Messengers hid. Walls crumbled. Generations were saved. Three days.

What keeps you bound?

Who is your Hope?

Where is God calling you to step forward?

Three days. I was challenged to fast from the activities that disturb and distract me. I let go. Near the end of the third day, as I circled our pond, the ruckus of two angry ospreys chasing a bald eagle, caught my attention. The eagle had something in its mouth, but it dropped midway over the water. Then the eagle circled and swooped down over the deep to retrieve his dinner. Although, I’m not sure he was successful.

No matter. The powerful vision left me awestruck. I had turned. Rested. Listened. Waited.
Freedom’s flight. Three days had made a difference. God’s resurrection power is for us!

     Open your heart to what God wants you to see and hear. Obey His voice. Radical change is possible.

Be blessed,

Lily Mae

Side note:
The following day I woke in the wee hours of the night, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. Coffee won. The hazy, gray globe rose as I clicked away on my computer, and I recorded my thoughts of the previous day. Then I happened to glance outside at my sheltering willow. Another eagle sat ready to pounce on its prey. For another thirty minutes I was captivated.

 

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God Knows my Name

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The Lord said to Moses, “I will also do this thing of which you have spoken;
For you have found favor in My sight and I have known you by name.”
Exodus 33: 17 (NASB)

 

I never liked my name. It could be because Martha means “lady” and “mistress of her house.” Both seem too stiff and proper to describe me. Although, I had no natural, athletic ability, I was a tomboy who grew up in a household with three brothers. We often played a boisterous game of basketball, we pushed, pulled, and taunted each other. And we had foul shot competitions. Then I rode my beat-up bike for hours on the dirt roads that were connected to our country lane.

Likewise, my brothers and I frequently explored the fields near our home and climbed a mulberry tree that fed many hungry birds. Our lips, hands, and bare feet wore their ripe evidence.  We also waded in the creek, searched for tadpoles, and built forts in the nearby woods. Times were different and my parents weren’t concerned for our safety.

My siblings and I weren’t allowed to watch much television, and computers, Facebook, and electronics didn’t exist. I spent most days barefoot outdoors, so my name was a contradiction. I was anything but poised. I was a restless runner of the fields.

Perhaps, I disliked my name because it reminded me of the trauma that my mother’s family experienced when her older sister, Martha, and her unborn baby were killed in a head-on collision. I was born several months later, and I carried the heavy loss with my name. I’ve often wondered if Martha was the true lady and mistress of her home; or, was she quiet and shy and a tomboy like me? Did I live up to her memory?  I blamed myself for the sorrow that lingered.

My name was also a cruel reminder that I’d been taken and I was no longer pure. I had no word for what happened. The window of my childhood shuddered with its dark secrets and tainted perspective. I recall the years lived in terror. I still feel the panic that overcame me as I checked my room each night. I looked in the closet, under the bed, locked the door . . . and then checked again. It was my bedtime routine. My privacy had been violated and my innocence stolen. I was on guard. I held my breath as if I passed through the Chesapeake Tunnel. But it wasn’t a fun competition.

Everything had changed. Sexual abuse left an ugly mark. I lost my safe place, position, and voice. I told no one in my family until I was an adult and I had children of my own. There was no easy manual that explained how to respond, not for the extended family, and not for the victims that began to come forward. But I began to heal as I wrote about my experiences. I released the hurt and anger as I identified and examined each ruin. Then I re-framed the lies of my abuse with God’s Truth. And God led me to freedom as my broken pieces fit together in a mysterious mosaic. Beauty was possible.

Like Moses, God knows our name and He favors us. He has a purpose for the pain we endure. He sees our need and affliction, and He breaks His silence. He rescues us from those who intend harm. We may not like our name and/or our history, or our once marred perspective, but we can praise Jesus for the freedom He now gives. When our identity rests in Him, we become part of His royal family. We no longer have to run in fear and doubt and restlessness. God’s presence is a promise that He goes with us, and He will give us rest. Therefore, we must tell the next generation of our hope. Jesus saves!

God knows you by name. Let Him lead you with His courage and confidence.

Be blessed!

Lily Mae

Upon you I was cast from birth; You have been my God from my mother’s womb. Be not far from me, for trouble is near; for there is none to help. Many bulls have surrounded me; strong bulls of Bashan have encircled me.  Psalm 22:10-12 (NASB)

 

 

 

 

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The Dread of Winter

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Jesus said, “Remain in me, and I will remain in you.” John 15:4 (NIV)

The weeks of rain had washed away my hope for autumn foliage. Hues of brick red, burnt orange, and cheerful yellow were but a tease. Even our small garden was unproductive, the apples had dried out and the pumpkins had rotted early. I recalled the brilliant colors of other years. They were bittersweet.

The wet, gray season seemed to reflect my physical and emotional and spiritual well-being. I didn’t look forward to the bitter cold and the slick conditions that came with it. I could hardly walk as it is. But God had led me on a journey to trust His lead and purpose.

As I flipped through pages of old journal entries, and considered how God had spoken to me in the past, I came upon the following prayer I’d written several years ago:

Lord, help me to live close to the floor, on my knees. Help me to seek you above all others. Loosen our chains of bondage, break down gates of bronze and cut through bars of iron. You free us. You heal us with your Word. You have rescued us from the grave!

Through my tears I grinned, then I wrote in today’s journal, “Lord, I didn’t mean literally!”

If you could see my view of late, it is pretty near the floor more often than naught. On my best days, it’s because I’m “camping” in a makeshift tent and “mowing” fields with my grandchildren. On my worst days, I’m trying to dust and clean and tidy up as I scoot around our home on the floor. My knees aren’t healing as fast as I’d like, but I can smile.

Sometimes, in order to heal and stand in God’s strength and confidence, we must first bend low and behold the perspective of the weak and broken one. I accept my low seat. For I know God is with me.

Lord, when we dread the winter, our days lack color, and our feet are unsteady and the path seems unclear, remind us of your faithfulness. Help us to fix our gaze upon your beauty, and to be mindful of the the trees where we find shade. Be our garden of rest. And let your calm surround and settle our troubled thoughts.

Thank you, Jesus, for your storehouse of provision, protection, and sustenance,

Lily Mae

But transgressors and sinners will be crushed together, and those who forsake the Lord will come to an end. Surely you will be ashamed of the oaks which you have desired, and you will be embarrassed at the gardens which you have chosen. For you will be like an oak whose leaf fades away or as a garden that has no water. Isaiah 1: 28-30 (NASB)

The Voyage

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And He told His disciples
That a boat should stand ready for Him
Because of the crowd. Mark 3:9 (NASB)

The Voyage

Everybody crowded close
Seeking a touch… healing
Driving words…ready a boat
An escape
Pressed on all sides
Jesus drew away

Moving
Above the deep
Swiftly leaving
Hidden away
Silently waiting
Preparation time

Chosen to lead
Appointed to speak
He makes us
Ready to be planted
The courageous and strong
Side by side

Intimacy with God
His perfection close
Mirrored understanding
Unconditional love
Never ending grace
Mountains of mercy

Having been with God
We are sustained
The least of these
Summoned and sent out
Circle of Hope
Ever be

Take a risk
Break the silence
Speak truth
And bring change
Freedom for the enslaved
Imperfect leading imperfect

Climb in the boat …do battle for Jesus
Your voyage

~Lily Mae