From the broken comes anew

Beauty is birthed from broken seeds.

Imagine a seed declaring its value based on its perfection. How flawless its edges. How unbreakable its exterior.

How it must look lifeless to some but to the planter the dormant life lies just on the inside.    

The real value of the seed lies on what’s hidden. When the most important process it has to go through is it's burial in the dirt, the drench of water, and the crushing weight of the dirt just to be broken open.

Then there is the real process is germinating, growing, bursting forth with courage to begin something new.

We are walking seeds. Afraid of brokenness. Afraid of mess. When, in reality, embracing the dirt that covers us is what bursts forth life.  Seeds broken wide open become soft and pliable, moldable, breakable so that new life is revealed.

Perfection is an illusion that locks away the potential within us.  It keeps our fears at bay to make us never even look in the direction of change.  Perfection keeps us from starting, from dreaming.

I want to be planted. I want to dive deep into the dirt. I want to let the rains wash over me. Knowing that it is in this place of vulnerability is when transformation happens, and that changes everything.

For when I break, I open up. The raw within is now visible. And it turns out to be more tender and lovely than the shell I was trying to perfect and make shiny.

New life rises up from the dirt. Different. More whole. Reaching for the light of the sun.

Imagine if you would let God get a hold of your hard coated heart and breath a little Holy breath of fire into it.  What would happen if the Holy Spirit breathed some new life into your cold places?

There are dark places in all of our hearts that we hide from the Planter, and don't to give into the Light. 

I don't know why.....he wants to make all things new.  In you.

Once you do...there is such freedom, with a newness to life and such an alive feeling, like something wild just invaded and touches our soul's core nerve...and it breaks open, bursts.

Such...transformation happens.

The old has gone and the new is here...grows with God's goodness.  For at the proper time it will grow, strong and wispy, then bloom, full blossoms, bearing fruit.

Let God's wholeness touch your deep places, your old past wounds, your messy life, your dirt that you won't let go of.  Let the Healer in.  Let Him plant truth deep into those lifeless seeds.

You have to let the Planter put His holy hands on the lifeless parts, crack open some shells, a breakthrough to your dormant soul.

The Perfector wants to perfect your faith.  In the process...guess what...He will bring life, blooms and fruit as you let His love germinate.  

Beauty is birthed in so many broken open places...

Time to Get My Hands Dirty

My God sized dream has burned a hole in my heart.  

I describe it like this...when you are at the end of your dreams, you have to give them up, and lay them neatly in a journal... and I have given them to God.  

I have a dream of writing a book.   Maybe two of them.  As if one was even possible. 

It's hard for me to assimilate.  The thought of writing just one overwhelms me.  
Just one comprehensive and cohesive chapter would be a dream.  

Is writing God's dream or mine?  
You tell me...    

There are days I don't feel like sharing my story, 

and then...
I think of her.

I think of the person I used to be, and how I am becoming.  
I think... if it helps....helps just one.  And ...if she is like me ...and we can grab hands
and we can discover God's heart together.  Then...that thought makes me want to share. 
Then I become strong in this weak frame.
The words start to flow.  
So can we become together?  

Those are the days when I think sharing my story would be so easy.  

I often look at the blank pages

 with my clutter-filled heart churning.
Just like a revolving door...
ushering in new thoughts and ushering out excuses, so many thoughts.

Is there a promise here in this journey?

If you follow me on Facebook, you might have noticed the post that mentioned a "burning bush moment" one day.

That morning, The Greatest Story Teller asked me, 
"Are you ready to get your hands dirty?  
Will you write your story?  
I want to write it on your heart."

Blink....Blink.  Yes, Jesus, yes. Tears. Blink....Blink.

I pray "the end" result will be filled with hope, just like dirty hands above.  

That would be a God-sized dream come true.

What is God asking you to do in 2013?  I would love to know.
Will you come along too?

Paging Dr. House

Our garage is still broken from a weird random severe thunderstorm that occurred about a year ago.  You may wonder why it hasn't been fixed yet?  I honestly don't have a good answer to that question.  There have been a lot of discussions and chins rubbed regarding it.  The fix seem complicated.

When I look at the rubble in my garage I get worn out.  It doesn't motivate me to action.  I'm also amazed that my clean house disintegrates so quickly in a couple of days time.  I get so tired of fixing that. 


There are other things that remind me that I can't fix anything, like my husband who has survived cancer but still lives with chronic pain.  Those whom I love that still need Jesus in their life, or the family that has been hit with leukemia.  And then there is  a couple whose marriage was broken by an extra-marital affair.  Right now I have 3 lawn mowers at my house that need repaired.  There are some days I don't know where the fixing should start.  I think about all the unfix-able things and I get overwhelmed.  This week, one dark morning as I was leaving for work, and God encouraged me with this, "Not everything needs fixed, not everything will be fixed, and remember you are not the fixer." 


What I think needs a handyman's touch is not what really needs fixing right now.  Where I think a broom could quickly sweep away some dirt may not be my bigger need.  I will always see the obvious piles or messes and I will never enjoy being squeezed by my whatever-happens-circumstances.    


I believe God puts us in the middle of the life's rubble so that He can show us that He is our only Fix.  He purposely plunks us in the middle these-finely organized-messes, so that His glory can be revealed in the rescue.  A friend was sharing part of his recent trip to Uganda.  He told me a story that had me in tears as it melted my heart.  A baby had been left for dead.  The situation was grim, but in the dark of night the baby was found barely alive and God saved the little life with the a simple bark of a dog.  Only He could have provided a way out of the dire situation.  


I have a missionary friend that entered the hospital with a busted appendix, and has run the gambit of medical issues, so many, that he could have been on lasts week's episode of House.  And as we are still begging God for healing, I see this too as an opportunity for God's glory to be revealed.  God likes to work when nothing else will and most times we have to get to the end of ourselves before He swoops in to fix.  Sometimes, though, things are beyond repair before He provides His remedy.


The bottom line for me is this...in my messes....He is teaching me to live above my circumstances.  This is a lesson that Paul seemed to have down quite nicely.  Philippians records over and over that our response to "whatever happens" is that we must rejoice.  Humanly that's hard to do when your family has been slapped with crisis.  


God has a remedy for you, for your messes, for your piles of dirt you want to sweep under the rug, for your brokenness, for your spiritual chaos that rages within.  God can still fix your problems...God can.  He is the Master who deals with disasters that hit us in our houses, in hospitals and in those hostile marital situations.  He wants to teach us more than the truth that He can fix.  He wants us to fix our eyes on Him....trust....and let Him be God in the fixing.  

Whatever happens....please fix us God.
Whatever happens...God teach us to rejoice!