Full.

We had a storm last night.  A tornado warning, in fact.  Usually the hubs and I are not great about waking up to thunderstorms, but this one had us on alert.  David had been watching the weather channel throughout the evening, and we were prepared for probably having to wake up in the wee hours of the morning to keep an eye on things.  We both woke up around 1:30am and decided it was time to get Ella out of her crib and to head downstairs.

The wind was intensifying quickly.

I love blizzards (as long as I don't have to go anywhere), I enjoy a good thunderstorm, and I even enjoy the drama of hail or sleet, but tornadoes--don't particularly like 'em.

Perhaps it's the unpredictable and uncontrollable nature of those beastly storms (or in this case--storm warnings) that keep me on my toes.  All I know to do during tornado warnings is pray.

And, just perhaps, that is the point.

We sat downstairs cuddled up in a blanket, Ella resting deep into the coziness of her Daddy's chest.  And before we knew it, it had passed.  For us, there was no destruction and no damage--just the reality that life can be a fleeting moment.

We headed back upstairs in an attempt to fall asleep.  Within an hour, David had conked out.  I could see Ella's eyes open in her video monitor but she was lying as still as can be--resting even though awake.  My mind was reeling, in a good way.  I was pondering and praying and sweetly exchanging conversation with God.  So many ideas and thoughts and purposes kept being deposited into my spirit.  I knew I had to write them down.

I didn't want to forget.

So, I got out of bed and made some waffles (I'm pregnant, remember?). I cuddled up with a hot cup of tea, and I made my spirit available to be with Him.

And He met me.

I realize that some people may be somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of God being intimate.  And yet, the Bible is full of stories where God so beautifully and romantically met people exactly where there were.  Full of heartbreak.  Full of joy.  Full of questions.  Concerns.  Dreams. Plans.

Last week was one of those weeks for me.  God kept speaking to me in the night.  Dream after dream.  He was tuning my ear to hear Him, He was answering questions I had, He was speaking to the 5 year old me.  Re-opening wells where drought had set it.  Lovingly whispering to the deepest parts of my soul, reminding me of who He is, and who I am.  Reminding me of my destiny.

Last night continued the journey.  He poured out ideas and purpose and confidence.  He filled my cup---to overflowing.  The secrets I had been searching for...well, He provided the treasure map.  And it wasn't only for me, it was for anyone who was hungry.  Who was humble.  Who was willing to take steps forward--no matter the brokenness or the pain or the hindrances at hand.  It was for the people who had been waiting for answers.

And in that moment, so many life challenges became so very fruitful.  The days spent in Egypt have already started to grow strangely dim. As I have learned to open wide my mouth,  He has indeed been filling it with good things (Psalm 81:10).  We never suffer in vain.  God does not waste  hurt--instead He pays us back 7 fold.  And as we submit whatever we are to Him, whatever strengths and whatever weaknesses, He meets us.  And our destiny unfolds.

I was driving home from a sweet lunch date with my huh-knee today.  I picked him up at the Lifeway store on the corner of Broadway.  You know the place.  I sat and waited for him to meet me.  He came out to the car, gave us each a kiss--and we proceeded to eat big burgers for lunch.  In case you need reminding, read HERE.  On my way home, my mouth and belly full of good things, I realized I was following a Buick Rendezvous.  As soon as I noticed it, I immediately thought of Ronald Reagan's quote which is in the stockpile of notecards for my book in progress: "You and I have a rendezvous with destiny."  In the matter of two seconds, a white truck passed us by with a license plate full of Hope.  The first two numbers?

44.



"For it was I, the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt.  Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it with good things." Psalm 81:10


"Taste and see that the Lord is good; His love endures forever." Psalm 34:8





I would love to hear how you are rendezvous-ing with destiny.....

Gratitude.

Before you start reading this blog, I must confess. I have made two "copies".  This beautiful song playing, well, I just stole it from Kelle Hampton's blog.  And I am so thankful to "steal" it because if it had not been for her blog, I'm not sure that I would have heard this refreshing and soulful tune.  Second, the idea of writing a letter to my young self (you'll understand what I mean soon), came from Casey Weigand's post this morning.  I was so inspired by it, I decided to do one for myself...and share it with you.

All that being said, I have had the kind of week that's only simile can be a comparison to climbing a mountain.  It's been intense, exhausting, challenging, and yet sweetly satisfying.  All of that clutter I've been working my way through, wow.  It's been important.  Not only has it helped me create order in my house, but it's been a prophetic act of creating order in my soul.  And that order--though in process can be difficult to sort through--is so worth it when I start to see the puzzle pieces fit and when I start to see purpose in the fight.

I had a special moment on Monday morning.  Ella was oversleeping, and I took advantage of the sun barely peeking through my windows to cuddle in my robe that barely covers my bulging belly, grab a cup of coffee, and pray.  I got a sweet kiss from my hubby who headed out the door for work, and then I settled in.  I looked around my living room.  I glanced over at Howie who had taken up residence in "his spot" on the couch, his eyes closed so that I could only see the perfect St. Bernard mask covering his face, his lips hanging over my favorite throw pillow.  Then, I heard the heartbeat of Ella's sound machine pulsing through her video monitor.  I looked closely to see a diapered booty facing me, little hands curled up close to her face, and the faint rising and falling of her chest.

It was all beautifully glorious.

And in one moment, I was full of the most intense and sobering sense of gratitude.  I didn't conjur up reasons to be thankful, they just hit me.

And I sat there, soaking in gratitude, crying for nearly ten minutes.

Scanning my living room made me realize how incredibly blessed I am.  It made me realize how richly I have been provided for, how abundantly I've been rescued, and how fruitful He has made my womb. I think back to certain circumstances I grew up with, not always what you'd call ideal, and yet He still made a way to take me from ashes to glory with my only real contribution being a "yes".  I've seen generational patterns fall by the wayside, relationships restored, hurts healed, and blessings abound.  I've  often walked a lone road of desperate intercession, pleading for transformation, marked by the blood of sometimes my own suffering.  And yet, in reality, I was only sharing in the suffering that He had already provided for me.  If that doesn't separate Jesus from any other "god" out there, I'm not sure what does.  He is so intimate.  He is life-changing.  Being born again is almost an understatement.

And so, in this place of gratitude, it made me think of all of the things I would tell my young self not to worry about had I known life would turn out this way.  And it also made me think of all the things I would like to remind myself of now--considering that He still has an even better plan for me.

Because that's just how good His love is.



Dear Five Year Old Sarah:

If you knew what I know now, I would tell you not to worry.  I would tell you to rest.  And even though life can seem chaotic, especially for a little girl, your Papa has made a way through the chaos.  The reason you feel it so deeply is not because you are crazy, but because He has made you brilliantly sensitive.  Don't let anyone ever call you over-emotional.  Your emotions are what so poignantly lead you to freedom, not bottled up, but an outflow of raw human reality.  And because you feel them, you will be able to relate to others in a way that most people cannot.  And that will bring Life.

If you knew what I know now, I would tell you not to worry about sitting up straight, or getting good grades, or saying the right thing.  I would tell you to misbehave--just a little.  Take more chances.  Make more mistakes.  Your mistakes will lead you to one of your greatest gifts--wisdom.  And what you thought you'd miss out on by messing up will really become your biggest asset, not only to yourself but also to other people.  So take your mistakes and offer them generously to others, they really are gifts.

If you knew what I know now, I would tell you to go wildly after your dreams---especially the ones that seem impossible.  Those dreams are secret keys to intimacy.  You'll learn more about who you are and Who you belong to by following them, even when it hurts and even when it seems like there's no way for them to become reality.  Don't let anyone discourage you, but listen to those who can give you genuine reassurance, constructive criticism, and challenging support.  Those are the people who have your best interest at heart.  Choose to believe.

If you knew what I know now, I would tell you to that even though people will let you down, love them anyway.  Don't allow your own bitterness or your false expectations to clutter up real love.  Serve where you are.  Serve who you are.  If someone denies it, makes fun of it, or can't accept it; it's okay.  Love them anyway. But remember, you don't have to be best friends with them.  Love doesn't necessarily always mean martyring yourself for someone else's gain.  You have feelings, too--and you're allowed to create boundaries for your own well-being.  You don't need to give out anything that you haven't been filled with first.

Speaking of, if you knew what I know now, I would tell you to accept Love lavishly.  You don't need to accept love dressed up like flattery, or codependent "love", or love disguised as giving when it is really taking...but real love, the kind that initiates grace, forgiveness, and Godly discipline, accept that.  You'll know the difference.  Your discernment will tell you.  And when you receive that kind of love, the exchange will be magnificent.  It may come in packages that are difficult to understand or in ways that may not strike you as fair, but if you allow Love to reign, it will change your whole entire life.  You will be one of the happiest people on the planet.

And last but not least, if you knew what I know now, I would tell you to listen to your Dad.  Yes, your earthly Dad, but more importantly your Heavenly Dad.  Take your advice from Him.  Only listen to what He says about you because His plans for you are good and your future is bright.  He is the only one who loves perfectly, and even when others let you down, He never will.  If He seems distant or if you can't find Him, He hasn't disappeared and He hasn't forgotten about you.  He never sleeps nor slumbers, and He knows every single thing about you....what makes you tick as well as what you need.  His love for you is larger than you comprehend.  When you have kids, you'll discover the smallest glimpse of how He feels about you.  It's that much bigger.

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Love yourself. Let others love you. Always be present in the moment. You won't ever regret truly living your life.

Love Always, Me

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is so much to be grateful for.  My spirit is nurtured by these reminders of what He has engrained in me throughout my life's journey.

Now that I am once again blubbering, what would you say to your 5 year old self?

Excess. Extra. Clutter. Waste.

It's been a really interesting week.  David and I started into a New Year's "spring" cleaning as soon as Christmas passed.  It has been both overwhelming as well as satisfying.  I'll start with overwhelming...

We've moved at least eight times since we've been married (eight years), and three of those moves have involved U-hauls driving across country.  Yes, we're crazy.  We actually almost lost everything we owned, including our one and only car, when we were moving in a horrific rain storm through the bridges of New Orleans, Louisiana.  I was praying that we (and all of our stuff) wouldn't be eaten by the alligators that were no doubtedly living under those bridges as we drove through Mardi Gras at a speed that I would say was "too fast!"--oh, and did I mention we both had the stomach flu?

ANYWAY...

Perhaps we just figured we'd get our crazy moving adventures mostly accomplished before we had kids.  Now that we have Howie, Ella, and another little love on the way, I look back and think we were pretty smart.  Or, rather, God's plan for us was pretty smart.  I really shouldn't take the credit on this one.  Even the alligators were part of His gracious plan for us.

I say all this to say, each time we had to pack up that U-haul and move, we got rid of excess "stuff".  There just was no room, and neither of us wanted to drag junk that we didn't need into a U-haul and move it across the country only to unpack it--and try to make room for it in our new place--when we didn't have room for it in our current place.  Not to mention that we didn't have any use for it.

And, here we are again, New Year's cleaning time.  Though we aren't necessarily moving across country, we still have excess.  As we've been deep cleaning and purging and organizing, I have to wonder how in the world we lived with all this junk for so long.  I know how...we lived with anxiety.

There's a unsettling feeling when you know things are cluttered, is there not? Well, it just so happened that I had/have some clutter to get rid of (creative people are just so good at making excuses for keeping this clutter around!).  I'm so thankful for all those big moves early on in our marriage that helped us get rid of the really useless stuff, but even still, it's amazing how much excess can accumulate after you've settled in a house for even just a few years.

And, so, with a new babe on the way, we've decided--it's time to officially finish our house.

Like for real.  Deep clean. Purge. Organize. Paint the last three rooms, and wah-lah!  But not only wah-lah--but we've developed a wonderful new skill set to help us keep the excess from creeping back.  It doesn't mean we'll be perfect at it, it just means that we'll take a few steps to improve.  So far, this has been our best way to see success.  Over the last few years, we've made strides to delete GMO's and artificial ingredients from our food, exercise more, garden more, compost more, create more, give more...spend less.  It, in turn, keeps us more free from distraction and more aware to enjoy life.  We're not always great at it, we definitely have slumps, but it has overall changed our entire way of life.

And, thankfully, this year, as we've approached our deep clean, it hasn't been nearly as overwhelming but instead has been much more satisfactory. It's refreshing to look back and see our progress and yet still make room for a few new changes so we can finish this chapter and start a new one.

And, in addition, it gives me clarity and time to work on things that matter to me--like my writing--without having that nagging feeling overwhelming me about how I need to clean out my clothes closet or organize our fifty boxes of crap in the attic.  Can I get an amen?

With that, I wanted to let you know I've made some progress with that writing (with special help from Ella's toys).  Thanks so much to all of those who have been praying and have sent me some super sweet emails.  You ROCK! I've started the big push....ya'll are like a spiritual epidural. Thank you for that!


Happy Monday!

Write. Write. Write.

There's something about being pregnant.  You watch your belly grow and grow for 9 months.  You go through different phases as even we "skinny girls" get to try out our new J. Lo features--as well as heartburn, loose hip joints, pulling butt muscles when getting off the couch (does this happen to anyone else?), and of course, peeing your pants.

But even more noticable (I know--what could be more noticable than peeing your pants?) is this joyful and anticipatory burden you carry as you wait for your new baby to be born.  You see, that's how I feel about this little book I've been working on for six years.  There has been no way for me to speed up the process because I didn't want to go into labor prematurely.  I've had to feel the heartburn, the pull of butt muscles, and even a pair or two of wet jeans....and shoes.

I've had to feel and process through each heartbreak and joy--each seemingly disappointment that turned divine appointment.  I've had to keep journal after journal of my sometimes insane thoughts, temper tantrums, and moments of graceful thankfulness and forgiveness.  And not only that, I've had to start this sweet little blog that not only gives me the unction to write on regular basis, but it also connects me to people like you--who enjoy sharing in my life's ups and downs (or maybe you're just looking for some drama?). :)

All in all, I'm in this weird stage.  Maybe some of you can relate.  It's called "Ok, if I don't finish this book, I might kill someone."  All those Braxton Hicks contractions and all those centimeters dilated, it's been leading up to something.  This year.  And I feel so excited and terrified all at the same time--which is precisely why I am writing this blog.

I need your help.

It's time for the pushing to start. I need someone who will graciously hold my hand while I dig my knuckles in.  I need you fine readers of mine to check in on me once in awhile.  Ask me how it's going.  Tell me about one of my blogs that really touched you.  I ask this not to feed my ego but to help remind me of what I'm doing.

You see, I write for several different reasons. 1. My emotions and thoughts get all blocked up if I don't AKA "I go crazy in the head". 2. God has asked me to, and so I want to be obedient (and because He knows that if I don't, I'll end up like number 1). 3. I get to share with you.  I get to make friends and hopefully share something that will bring hope, life, and freedom to someone else.  Yes, I would like to change the world.  Whether it's seen or not seen.  4.  The God who asked me to do it, well when I actually do what He asks, it ends up pointing not only me, but other people to His grace, His provision, and His heart for His kids.  And I like when that happens--because He has changed my whole life around.  Abundant and overflowing.  I am not a statistic like I "should" be.

Instead, "I'm 30 and flirty and thriving." (Guess the movie!)

And that's because of Him.

So, there is my plea.  Please help keep me accountable.  I'm so excited to see this baby birthed--to see my dream become a reality, but it really is a group effort at this point.  And you sweet people have been part of that, and I am so grateful.  As I write, I think about who will read it often.  It doesn't matter to me whether it's 5 people or 5 billion people--as long as it means something.  And the very process of preparing it has, indeed, meant something.  This little book has changed my life, given me purpose, been a friend, and has listened when I went off into hypoglycemic rants.  And more importantly, it has pointed me to Him, brought me into a place of adoption instead of orphanhood, has confirmed my identity, and has brought me joy.  It has been one of my 44 moments (click on the 44 for the backstory).

And so, thank you, almost-finished book.  I promise I will try to do my due diligence to give you the time and devotion you deserve.  I will try not to let myself get spiritually constipated by ignoring you when you're calling my name.  And for the times that I do get constipated or writer's block, I will promise to let it go--because you are not just a thing to be checked off my to do list, but you are a living and breathing testament of my heart.  You are an act of worship and an offering of myself.  And whether broken or bruised--gladhearted or terrified, I will give of myself excellently.

And bless you, my sweet readers--whose emails and notes encourage me to be me and to live my life out loud!  You mean more than you know.

Until next time, thank you all!  (And please feel free to let me know how your "babies" are doing......I'd be happy to keep you accountable as well.)

Light.

I've had this thing lately with lights and stars.  It's been going on for a few years now, but it has been highlighted the last few months.  It started to become particularly obvious to me when we chose a name for our new baby girl (before we even knew she was a girl).  We've only decided to tell our immediate family her name until she is born (sorry!), but let's just say that part of her name means "light".  The funny and beautiful thing about it is that the meaning wasn't on purpose.  It was just the name we kept being drawn to.  And when I looked the name up to see what the meaning was, it was confirmed to us even more that it was to be her name.  The day we got our ultrasound to find out if she was a boy or a girl, we had the tech write the result in a card for us to open later.  As we drove down Broadway in Nashville, I happened to look up at a billboard on the side of the Frist Visual Arts Building.  Without going into a long, drawn out story, this Frist Art's Building and I have a special relationship.  Remember when I was stopped at that red light looking at the Broadway sign? It was right in front of this building.  And so, it's just one of those love taps from God that reminds me that His plan for me is good, that He has everything all lined up, and that He is always steps ahead of me--preparing a road for me that leads to adventure, fullness, and lots of Him.

So, back to the billboard.  It had this picture on it; the presentation of Christ.  Above it, the name of the exhibition was called "Divine Light".

I smiled.  I knew it was a girl.  It was just what I had secretly wanted even though I had geared myself up for a boy--just in case.  After I saw the billboard, I started begging David to open the envelope.  He wanted to wait for us to share a nice lunch together as a family, have a little ceremony, and then open it.  Let's just say, he caved.  And not even two seconds after I asked, I was ripping open that seal and unlocking the next piece to our life's puzzle.  "It's a Girl!"

I say all this to say that so often God not only uses our children's names to identify parts of their identity but also to explain what is being birthed in us.  Ella June is our "Beautiful Queen"--the female version of "Who is like God?" and this next season in our life pertains to shining lights, joyful and bright, unable to be put out, unstoppable.  This holiday season, I kept seeing it over and over as we celebrated the star the lead us to Christmas, the Festival of Lights (Hanukkah and our 8th anniversary!), and of course the bling of the New Year.

Divine Light.

As we drove home from our Ohio adventures this Christmas, I took a turn at the wheel.  I watched as the sun started to set, filling the sky with the most magnificent orange hue that slowly turned navy blue and then to deep black.  And out of nowhere, it showed up.  One bright star.  The only star I could see in my whole point of view.  And, again, a peace settled in my heart that Hope had come.

I followed this star all the way into Nashville--until I arrived in my driveway.

2011 didn't seem to be a great year for most of the people I know.  There was a lot of transition, loss, separation, and illness.  And yet, it brought forth this Light that had been hidden deep within our wells.  Sometimes we go through hardship in order to refine what is rooted so deeply that we can't see it for ourselves.  It doesn't mean it was never there to begin with, it just means that when we've lost our way, He'll send a star...guiding us back to where we know is home.

And so, this year, I look forward to seeing my little light be birthed and shine it's way onto my own life as well as onto others' lives as we venture into a divine season of Joy.  I can't wait to see all of your lights shine, too, as they weave into one another like the dance of the Aurora Borealis.

Here's a clip from Ella's library of Veggie Tales that so beautifully portrays this light--from Christmas to Easter and beyond.

Happy New Year!!

Hope's Song

Christmas.

I’ve attempted to start a blog twice over the last couple weeks but have ended up typing, erasing, and then re-typing---only to leave them both half finished with no real pull to go back.   And so, as I reflect on what I’m feeling this Christmas season, I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t have one mainstream theme or one solid idea about what I’m living through this Christmas.  I suppose that, really, I have several things that keep tip-toeing and/or sprinting through my mind this year.  Some are good, and some are challenging.  Some are reminders while others are lavish outbursts of joy.  So, instead of writing about just one topic, here are my December 2011 highlights…..

FORGIVENESS

Nothing reminds you of the challenge to forgive quite like being wronged.  Am I right?  And Christmas, the birthplace of forgiveness, came in none other than a baby-sized package whose parents were constantly told “There’s no room for you here” over and over again until this King of Kings, Forgiveness himself, was born in straw---next to pig sewage and cow droppings.  I would assume that none of us would have chosen this place to be born, and yet it reminds us that the road less traveled and the road of humility is in fact the way to royalty.  It tweeks my heart, though tempted to close itself, to remain open and flexible and aware to possibility of Hope even in the midst of seemingly chaos.  And it reminds me that the heart that is not offended is always open to give and receive Love, while offense only triggers bitterness and resentment.  Forgiveness, though usually a journey, can also be miraculously quick, depending on my willingness to surrender to the greater purpose it poses.  God Himself.  He is always the end result, is always our Hope, and always comes through—even when He can come wrapped in a package we might not like at first.

PREGNANCY

There is something so special about being pregnant at Christmas.  I’m not sure if it’s because I seem to relate to Mary, or if it’s because of the anticipation and joy of what is to come, or if it’s just the pure nostalgia of it all.  But each Christmas that I’ve had a baby in my baby has seemed so magical.  It reminds of me of God’s faithfulness and Fatherly love, the joy He takes over His children, and the Hope of what He has on the horizon for them.  My heart is overwhelmed with gratitude to be chosen to carry another life.  It really is a privilege—and I always want to treat it as such.  And being pregnant at Christmas just feels so right—so divine and so aligned—at least for me.  The hope of a new year, and the birth of new life to come.

REST

I have a love/hate relationship with the holiday season.  I would definitely tip the scale more toward love, and yet the part I “hate” comes in waves—mostly the underlying anxiety of a gigantic to do list.  I love parties and celebrations and time with family, but as I’ve grown older, my need to re-charge and rest has become more of a priority than making it to every holiday function I have the opportunity to go to.

I got an email from a reader (and friend!) a few weeks ago asking me how I deal with managing priorities while also remaining obedient to God—in the midst of being secure enough about my decisions not to fear the reactions of others. As I wrote her back, it really made me think a lot about this season of life--the holidays in particular.  It’s so easy to get caught up in trying to please everyone while juggling priorities that really don’t belong to me, in the midst of family or friends that may do things differently than I do.  I would say this is probably an every day occurrence for people who are parents or leaders, and yet it comes to a head in the wake of December 25^th’s arrival.  I would say that in no way am I a master of such a topic, and yet after years of over-doing and over-responsibility, I am acutely aware when I’ve drifted from a place of rest into a place of overcompensation.  And just for that small victory, I am extremely grateful.  I wouldn’t suggest that rest looks the same for each of us because we all have unique personalities; we each have a certain flow of activities that can keep us feeling either in our groove, frazzled out of our groove, or drearily bored out of our minds until we find our groove.  And for each of us, it varies. But what I do know and what I have learned is that I can’t be obedient to God outside of rest and peace, and when I’m in that place, I can easily manage my priorities with joy while also not being swayed by the perceptions of others.  And while I am filled with that kind of rest, the holidays become a beautiful culmination to yet another year fulfilled.

BELIEVING

And last but not least, nothing speaks of Christmas like the choice to Believe.  We were driving down the street the other night looking at Christmas lights with Ella.  Just as we hit a stop sign, Josh Groban’s song, Believe, came on and I lost it as I turned around and looked at Ella’s sweet face smiling at twinkling lights to the classic lyrics “Give your dreams the wings to fly” sang through the car.  Call it pregnancy hormones, call it having a moment, call it the presence of God.  No matter what it was, I was in it.  And it’s moments like these that are so beautifully Christmas.  Hope in the midst of a manger.  Peace in a world of chaos.  And joy to a population whose rate of anti-depressants are at an all-time high.  The choice to believe will change your entire life.  It brings reality to the desires of your heart, and it heals the brokenness of damage from the past.  It’s what Christmas is all about.

And it is why I LOVE Christmas so much!

Whether you are forgiving or forgiven, pregnant with natural life or spiritual promise, full of rest or on your way to a good nap, may you believe in the goodness of God this Holiday season!

Merry Christmas to you and yours...

Say.

I'm in a dark room.

I scream out.

No one hears me.

I scream louder.

In You come.

You hear me.

You validate me.

You've created my voice--
To speak of Yours.

"Hold it down. Hold it closed. Shush!"

It says from across the room.

I'm in a chair.

My hands are tied.

"Lies! Lies!"

It spews and spells.

"Shut her up!"

And in You've walked.

Confident and full of poise.

You take out the gag drudged through my mouth.

"What would you like to say, my dear?
The mic is yours; now have no fear."

"What I'd like to say,"
I reveal from my heart
"Is that Your Kingdom is coming and from You I won't part.
You've changed my life; pronounced me free.
And there won't be anything that can stop me
From telling all of your Love and your Grace
And that at your Table,
There is always a place
To eat and to drink
From the fairest of fare
To breathe and to laugh
To enjoy and to see
It comes with a price
But really it's free-er than free."

~~~~~~~

Ever feel like there is a gag in your mouth? Like you have so much to say but you can't get it out?  I used to have dreams like that a lot.  I was trying to shout, asking for help, or trying to say something important--and I couldn't get anything out.

This piece of writing above actually came out of a dance I did a few years back for a creative conference.  Not only were my hands tied, but my feet were tied, my eyes were covered, and my mouth was gagged.  And there was also a person dressed in black continually tying me up...spewing at me every thing that kept me bound.  My only part in the process was whether I chose to believe that person or not.  As Truth came into the picture, you can see what happened.

Being tied up and gagged is a really horrible way to feel.

And, yet, I think most of us have felt this way from time to time.  In one way or another.

You have something to say, but something holds you back.  And so you spend years and years holding things in, not only the emotions and what you have to say, but also the attached resentment, bitterness, disappointment, and hope-deferred that comes along with not saying it.  And instead of feasting, you get by only through nibbling on the crumbs under the table.

Because, after all, it's not easy to eat a fancy steak dinner with a gag in your mouth.

Expecting that crumbs is all you get.

It seems that for some of us, it feels like we've been in quite the hovering cycle.  Around and around we go.  Getting a small breath of fresh air or a little bit to eat here or there, but nonetheless, still continuing to hover.

Fortunately, I have a feeling that's all about to change.  I've definitely walked through cycles where my gag decreased in it's grip around my mouth.  I was able to say more and get more to eat.

But the gag was still hanging in there.

And, yet, as we enter into this Christmas and into a New Year, I have a renewed sense of faith to Believe.  If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you might remember me referencing the number 11, as in 2011, as Biblically representing "transition".

And transition we did.

Do you want to know what the number 12 means? Perfection of government or otherwise put, a divinely constituted organization.  In laymen's terms, it means that the time of transition must have gotten us somewhere.  And, for us, that somewhere lies in 2012.

I understand that every new year has the hope of bringing something fresh and new...

But this year feels different. Doesn't it?

I know it feels different to the 30 people that we are praying for this Christmas.  They have messaged me prayer requests in which to believe out of sheer faith.  Some of these are big ones.  They involve a complete change in lifestyle, an absolute miracle, and/or a big leap into a land unknown.  They are banking on the fact that this past year of transition has prepared them for what is being divinely ordered in their path for 2012.

They are done eating small crumbs, and they have instead asked for the steak.

Gag out. They have something to say.  And they have something to ask for.

No longer believing that their inheritance is to hover but believing that they have something to gain, and they have something to give.

Because with feasting, comes sharing.

We're not tied up just for our own misery.  We break free from the ties for our own lives, but we also break free to give food to someone else.

And that's why we eat together at the dinner table.

Someone always needs to hear a story of Hope. As humans, we simply can't get enough of it. We were made for it.

So, as we make room in our hearts for that sweet babe to be born in us again this year, I pray not only for myself but for all of you...that we would receive the grace to say what we need to say, to ask for what He's calling us to ask, and to share with one another the process.

Let's feast!!