I Will Trust You, Part II, Even in the Desert

The Israelites were asked to trust. 

To trust God to take them out of a land. 

To bring them to a land flowing with milk and honey. 

The problem was. . . 

They needed to go through the desert first. 

The barren, harsh, desert. 

For forty years they wandered. 

Forty years they waited to see the land promised. 

For most of those who left Egypt, they never lived to see the Promise. 

Are you in a desert place? 

During these desert times, God is ever present. 

As the Israelite's traveled they were hemmed in by fire and cloud. 

God went before them. 

God was with them 

God went behind them. 

Many of you have contacted my farmer and I over this latest trial. 

We are so encouraged by your words. 

We sing a chorus during worship. 

"You are perfect in all of your ways."

We sing it over and over. 
It's not until about the time that I start to think, 
we have sung this line too many times, 
that I realize what I am singing. 
I let the truth wash over me. 
God is reminding me. 
Holding me fast. 
His ways are perfect. 
He is perfect in every way. 
Sometimes repetition is good. 
Sometimes it takes that long for the message to reach our heart. 

God is calling us to wait. 

We are choosing to be still.
Waiting to see what God will do. 
Hoping in the promises given. 
Knowing that our desert will not last for ever. 
One day;
the trials of this earth will be shaken for good. 
They will be cast off for all of eternity. 
For now we will rest in the Ancient Word. 
Place our feet on unshifting sand.
We will keep our gaze to the Cross. 
Where the battle was won. 
Where victory was claimed. 

No matter what happens. 
No matter the outcome. 
God is still good. 
He is worthy of our praise. 
He will bring about his plan. 
And above all; His name will be praised. 

I hope you will take a few minutes to listen to this song. 
The first few notes still bring such sweet memories of a wonderful
 time in my life. 
My High School years when God took me and began preparing me for all the was to be in my life. 


Petra
More Power 

"They that wait upon the Lord Shall renew their strength"

"Put on all His armor and fight the good fight, and in all our weakness we become so strong He gives us the power and the strength to carry on. "

I Will Trust In You

He takes my hand. 

That farmer of mine. 

I ask him how he is. 

He says fine. 

See, 

he lives by the thought;

If I live; 

Great. 

If I die;

Better.

 He asks me how I am?

I begin to weep. 

You see, because I don't want to lose him. 

Because I am tired. 

I am weary. 

I am tired of bad news. 

I know there is good in everything. 

I seek that which is good. 

But today. 

For the moment. 

I am not fine. 

I am sad. 

I am scared. 

I am numb. 

The CT scan showed some spots. 

Spots that shouldn't be there. 

Spots to a cancer patient can mean death. 

They can also be scar tissue. 

The tears continue to flow as I work through my thoughts. 

It's fine if my farmer is ok with dying. 

It's me that isn't. 

And there it is. 

Me. 

When you walk with the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. 

There is no room for the me. 

There doesn't have to be. 

He has it all. 

He has gone before us. 

He will go with us. 

When we focus on the "me" our focus has shifted off the

 One who holds the key. 

The One who gives and extends grace. 

The One who has promised to never leave us nor forsake us.

The One that traveled to Calvary that we might have life. 

He bore all so we didn't have to. 

This same God offers us His promise. 

Isaiah 41:10

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

I tell my farmer I can't do this again. 

I can't watch him go through chemo. 

I can't. 

I don't have it in me. 

How will we survive? 

It is not until the evening. 

When the farmhouse sighs in the quiet that I hear the sound of my Savior. 

I have this, He says. 

No. 

You can not do this. 

You have no more to give. 

No more strength. 

It is now that I will be glorified. 

No matter what happens. 

I sense the very presence of the Almighty. 

We are here on this earth to bring glory and honor to the One 

who breathed breath into our beings. 

Our purpose to bring about His Kingdom. 

I do not know the future. 

I only know this moment. 

And I am going to make it count. 

I'm going to breathe in the glory of the moment. 

I'm placing my eyes heavenward. 

No matter how this journey plays out I am going to trust. 

One of my readings in the Ancient Word has been through Exodus.

God is asking Moses to go to his people. 

To bring a message that makes them uneasy. 

He is asking them to leave a place where they are familiar. 

He asks them to go to the unknown. 

God was working a plan. 

Moses nor the Israelite's could see that plan. 

They needed to be open and willing to be obedient. 

They were being asked to trust.

 To leave a place that was home to travel to a place unknown. 

Are we willing to trust God

to take us places we might not be familiar with? 

My farmer and I are on a journey that is not familiar. 

We are being asked to be obedient. 

We are being asked to trust. 

I am holding tightly to the Promises set before the world began. 

The hope that rests in the Father's way. 

He has the plan. 

He is good. 

I may not like the plan. 

I don't have to. 

He will still do the work He has planned. 

Through it all He will be glorified. 

I am willing to take the journey. 

I am willing to see what He has in store. 

I will trust. 

Psalm 56:3

When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.

Lauren Daigle

I Will Trust In You

Truth is, You know what tomorrow brings 
There’s not a day ahead You have not seen
So, in all things be my life and breath
I want what You want Lord and nothing less

When the Quiet Still Hangs in the Air

While the early morning quiet still hung in the air. 

The phone rang.

Love on the line from Haiti. 

A quick hello and good bye. 

While the news blares Presidential Candidate 

updates and tolerance and intolerance are debated. 

A group is in Haiti. 

Sharing, loving, building, sweating in the name of Jesus. 

The noon time heat is intense. 

So they chose to get to work early. 

They headed to the boys home to build a Safe-T home. 

Temporary shelter for a people longing for a home. 

New beginnings; glimmers of hope. 

The wifi connection is spotty. 

So communication is limited. 

A stark reminder of how dependent we are on fast paced communication. 

Immediate access to information. 

Texting. 

Ways to communicate, never having to speak a word. 

The youngest and I find ourselves alone. 

We go to a friends to watch a movie.

This movie spoke a message loud and clear. 

A message that resonates with my heart. 

Prayer is important. 

We are fighting a War. 

A war for our children's souls. 

Our marriages. 

Our everyday living. 

There is a battle. 

A battle that says you're not good enough. 

This is what you need to be happy. 

A culture that continues to tell us, if we just have this, 

then we can be happy. 

We just need "stuff" to make us happy. 

We need to put ourselves first. 

And then we'll be happy. 

Oh my. 

No, no. 

This is not how it works. 

It is not until we surrender.

Put Jesus first, that is where our happiness begins. 

This. 

This is joy. 

This is love. 

This is not where he wanted to go. 

If he had put himself first, he would be here, on the farm, 

taking care of chores. 

Because that is what he wanted to do. 

Instead he went in obedience. (sort of) 

And God has met him there. 

In his brokenness and deep missing. 

This is love from Haiti. 

This make my mama's heart sing. 

This takes the ache and fills that deep, deep hole with grace. 

We've got one shot in this world to make it count;

to make a difference. 

When the world shouts to us that we need more. 

We need this or that to be happy. 

We need to silence those voices. 

We need to bow our knee to the One who breathes life into us; 

who knows the plans He has for us. 

(photo credit-Kayli Leavitt)

I am not here to become successful or rich. 

I am here to serve; in whatever way God chooses. 

I do not know what that looks like long term. 

What I know is that here, in this moment, I need to be in prayer. 

In the quiet. 

In the chaos. 

In the confusion and busyness. 

No matter the journey. 

Looking heavenward. 

Stepping into obedience even when it's hard. 

Finding joy where God leads. 

Even in the heartache. 

Even when I am disappointed. 

Even when I don't understand. 

I have open and complete access to God. 

He never slumbers nor sleeps. 

Psalm 121:4

He will not let your foot slip-- he who watches over you will not slumber;

indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

There is never poor service or a busy signal. 

You don't have to leave a message or stand in line. 

He's there. 

Waiting. 

Longing. 

As I continue to wait to hear from Haiti. 

I will do the work I have been called to do. 

In humble submission, before a loving and Powerful God. 

While I wait to hear from Haiti. 

I will bend my knee and raise my hands in Praise to the 

One who calls me by name.

For these moments are rich. 

They are not to be missed. 

I will do what I am called to do here. 

Serve, Sacrifice, Surrender

 

 

22 years.

6 children.

 

 

 

1 grandchild.

 

 

1 child in heaven.

 

 

1 nephew just joined them.

3 of our parents there as well.

The one still here dancing with the memory thief.

 

And here we are.

Living in the nest where one has flown the coop.

Where she fluffs her own nest.

Where one has soared to heaven.

Where one attends college.

 

The nest has changed.

 

Is changing.

 

And it's hard.

Some days it's hard to remember there is joy.

Some days it's hard to remember to serve the other.

 

I Corinthians 13:4

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud

 

Love is all these things.

These things I forget.

With the onslaught of the tyranny of the urgent pressing in;

gentleness is often pushed aside.

When emotions become your compass and your eyes turn toward yourself;

love takes a back seat.

 

Words like service, sacrifice and surrender are often over looked.

Yet are foundational to the survival of marriage.

I am digging deep and taking a good look at these words today.

 

22 years ago I promised to sacrifice, serve and surrender.

I am not so sure I am doing a very good job of that lately.

 

I can't say the last few years have been easy.

The struggle to live each day often leaving me exhausted.

But I can say through it all we have been held.

We have chosen the better way.

 

Today is a new day.

A new beginning.

A renewal of the covenant.

A celebration.

 

 

I Corinthians 13:5

It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

 

This I will keep in my heart.

This will be my goal.

 

Happy 22 years to my farmer.

There are more seeds to sow.

There is much ground to cover.

I look forward to working together to;

serve, sacrifice and surrender.

 

Don Williams

 

Years from Now

 

 

 





In an Impulsive, Immediate Gratification Seeking Culture. . . I Will Wait

God closed a door. 

And I didn't like it. 

He'd already slammed the door in other ways in our lives. 

This felt like it was just the last straw. 

I vacillated between anger and trying to trust. 

Leaning on what I know. . . not on what I feel. 

Those are hard things. 
This world throws things into our pathway. 

At each turn; we choose. 
We can step into grace. 
Seeking wisdom in the walk. 
Trusting in a plan held by a Divine Creator. 
Or we can let this world drag us down. 

Bitterness and anger seep in. 

I started down that path. 
Justifying my behavior. 
Condoning my feelings with self gratifying words. 
"I" this and "I" that. 
The door closed. 
And I wasn't prepared. 

Proverbs 16:9
In their hearts humans plan their course, but the LORD establishes their steps.

All my planning and trusting led to another closed door. 

I am not sure where God is leading. 

But I trust the direction. 

I trust that God is establishing our steps. 

So, I will continue to wait. 

Waiting takes work. 

Seeking, trusting, waiting. 

In an impulsive and immediate gratification society 
these words slam against the culture. 

I don't want to take a step out of His will. 

 I will wait. 

I will listen for the still quiet voice. 

The voice that soothes this aching heart. 

The voice that will bring about His plan, in His timing. 

 I will wait. 

Seeking, trusting, and waiting. 

Isaiah 40:31
 But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; 
they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary;
 and they shall walk, and not faint.

Are You Thirsty?

The day is warm. 

Sunshine streaming through fluffy white clouds. 

We head to the river. 

My happy place. 

We're headed to celebrate;

New life. 

Hope. 

Promises and Covenants. 

That sweet next to the youngest farm girl is entering the waters of baptism. 

She's shaking off the old. 

Stepping into the new. 
The life that isn't promised to be easy. 

The life where knee is bowed and hands lifted high. 

A life built on truth, hope and certainty. 

The truth that she has already had to wrestle to the ground 
as she navigated the shocking death of her oldest brother. 

And then the turmoil of her father with cancer. 

Yet she stood strong. 

She placed her feet on that solid rock. 

She dug deep when the pain threatened to pull her under. 

She stood. 

She breathed. 

And God poured into her aching soul. 

He reached down and called her by name. 

And she answered. 

And today. 

She professes. 

She confesses her unworthiness. 

Her brokenness. 

She proclaims her unity with the Almighty. 

Who came as a babe. 

Suffered on the cross. 

That she might live. 

And she enters those waters. 

The same waters that her brothers and sister entered. 

That glorious water.

Life changing.

The water runs through. 

And she is forever changed. 

She's quenching her thirst. 

 I think of another family. 

Saying Good bye. 

Celebrating a life lived well. 

Taken too soon. 

At the hands of one who felt she was finished with this life here. 
Trying to take her own life. 
She took the  life of another. 

And the weight slams hard. 

We do not know what this life will bring. 

We are not promised an easy life. 

We in this country are so far removed from suffering. 

Our lives are scattered with pretty things. 

Our goals. . . to be successful. 

Our desires for personal gain. 
When all the while a gracious God waits. 
Waits patiently for our yeilding. 
For our shift to see Him. 
For His purposes. 
The water is cleansing. 
In a moment we are changed. 
New life has begun. 
Those who entered the waters are not destined for an easy life. 
Their alignment with Christ does not buy them any "passes" from the tough stuff. 
What it does is solidify the great promises that, He will never leave you nor forsake you. 

Deuteronomy 31:6
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."

Won't you hold tight to these truths? 
Let the living water change you. 

John 4:14
but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life."

Back Porch Wisdom

She sits on my back porch. 
The porch we are so grateful to have. 

We gather together for a bridal shower. 

For one of the younger generation. 

I visit with a beautiful woman. 
Decades ahead of me in age and wisdom.

Decades ahead of me in grieving. 

All the years I have known her. 

She has spoken little of her grief. 

She has laughed and shared stories. 

But the raw. 

I never saw. 

Until she sits on my porch. 
9 decades of living. 

She grabs my hand with an urgency. 

Her gaze does not meet mine. 

She says. 

"How are you."

And I know. 

I know what she is asking. 

She is reaching deep to the place that only mommy's whose babies 
are the way of the earth can know. 

She turns to look me full in the face. 

She says in haltering words.

They don't understand, you know. 
Unless they have walked the path. 

They just can't.

 She gives my hand a squeeze. 

The moment has passed. 

This dear soul. 

Understands. 

Her strength;

Imparted to my ache. 

She knows the day to day. 

That no one sees. 

The alone grief. 

Where the guttural cry still longs to be released. 

She gets the raw. 

The sod holds her son and her beloved. 

The encounter was brief. 

Quiet. 

I still feel her squeeze on my hand. 

And I savor the moment. 

The gift. 

Time marches on. 

The routines for others set in motion. 

While I still feel somewhat left behind. 

Even with promises of hope. 

Even when moments of joy rise forth. 

The ache still lingers. 

The missing real. 

And so I treasure the acknowledgement from one so wise. 

I look to her life as strength to press on. 

I remember to look beneath the surface. 

Because the ache, may not be seen. 

We never know when we may minister to an aching soul. 
May we all have grace to listen. 
Eyes to see. 
Wisdom to seek the needs. 

When we die to ourselves. 
Keep our focus on the One who is able to see. 
We become more like him. 
The urgency to live life, on life becomes more important. 

Galatians 2:20
I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, 
but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, 
I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

So grab someone's hand today. 
Look into their eyes. 
Breathe life into an aching soul. 
Rejoice with one who rejoices. 

Just be there. 
Grab a cup of coffee and sit on the back porch. 
Show up.