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Dear Sweet Friends,

 I have not left blogging or lost my heart for you.  On the contrary, you are always on my heart.  My scarceness in the blogging world results from overwhelming tasks and honest exhaustion.  Be assured of my thoughts, prayers, and love for you, as I reestablish my home and try to recover.  I pray Philippians 4:19 for all of you, knowing that our Father God sees you and loves you and longs to be your everything in every situation of your lives.  

Your Heart-Partner in Jesus,

Andrea 

With a deep breath, and unabashed thanksgiving, I can proclaim that we have returned to our home.  Yes, after eight months of separation from our own small piece of earth and earthly possessions, Jeff and I have crossed one major hurdle in this current race.  I never expected our extended itineration from personal property.  Yet, God in his sovereignty, knew and chose that we have that separation and return. 

And, as you know, anything God allows, anything He touches, He makes good.  For, "we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28, NKJV).  Years ago, I heard Elisabeth Elliot, with her precious voice of humility, talk about the "good" in that verse.  She said that it is not a particular state of happiness spawned by circumstances.  The good, Elisabeth said in her wise way, is that God, with omniscient, Fatherly vision, does what is for our best.  Our best is that which is for our eternal good, whatever draws us nearer to God's heart, whatever conforms us to the image of Jesus Christ. 

His desire for our good is the condition behind all our personal trials.  God views and weighs the pain, the process, and results:  physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, and eternal.    

In light of God's complete vision, He ordains and allows the events of our lives, for He knows what will purge us, renew us, and conform us to the image of Jesus.  Because of God's grace and his Fatherly good, I can work through all the moments of November 8, 2009, the process of the fire, and the outcome, which is yet to be known.   

Speaking truthfully, it has been very difficult to deal with the memories of the fire:  watching my home in flames and my grandchildren scream in panic and cry with fear.  The aftermath of petroleum fumes hovering in our home and attaching to our things continues to linger, and the pain of not knowing the final results of our insurance claim, along with the sting of anger for insurance adjusters and contractors makes me lean the harder on God and His grace.  I stand in His grace and by faith alone as I try to grasp the idea of loss and what ifs, and deal with many other issues that are always attached to trauma and major life events.

Attached to everything are true feelings that are very human.  But there is a divine issue greater than my human comprehension and fleshly experiences.  To find peace in all things earthly, in all things humanly spoken, I must complete my thoughts with two words:  but God.

But, God!

 I have always loved that two-word phrase that grammatically unqualifies as a sentence, but supernaturally qualifies as victory.  But, God made, makes, and is making all things new and all things good.  And just what the good of our experience is will be fully revealed in eternity, though yet even with my darkly glassed vision (1 Corinthians 13:12), some details are already tangible.

As I write, there remains a lot of physicality to our situation.  Don't mistake me.  I am thankful, ever so thankful for all God has done and brought us through.  My thankfulness, however, doesn't change the leftovers we now face.  Much is left to sort through.  If I fix my vision on the leftovers and see only the mess of it all, I will miss the miracle of God's ability to multiply His grace and provision. 

God is the faithful One, and One particular mighty provision lies amongst the chaotic condition of our home.  It is powerful and eternal.  It is exact and undeniable.  The voice of God, with the power of all His names, speaks through current disorder and pain.  Reigning above earthly mystery of things lost, piles of  dishes, clothes, books, papers, pictures, and other residuals is the presence of my Shepherd.  He speaks peace in this confusion.  I therefore do not just see eight months of pain and more months of stress and work, I hear the mind of One most holy, who alone understands and knows me and searches my heart and is working on my will and vision.

Thus far, my Father has chosen to share a few truths that have captivated my heart.  God has faced me down with all of them.  His words are very easy to accept in my mind, but my spirit is weak and battles, though self will not win, for I am locking in on that divine voice of reason.

One truth I will share with you now.   Perhaps it is the most prolific and the sum of all God's teaching sessions. 

That mighty truth is new eternal perspective.  Whatever my eyes see or my mind conceives is being framed with words that can comfort and heal, shatter and cleanse, or shake and refocus.

A chair is a chair.  It has a purpose.  It provides a place for one to sit.  If it is a beautiful piece, then I am thankful for its aesthetic gift, but its form and presence are a very simple part of my life and have nothing to do with my joy or quality of living.  Only God can give me joy.

And I may choose to receive joy in my life through things or through God.  If I receive joy through things, my life is based on what is only earthly valuable.  That choice makes for shaky faith and contentment that is very timid.

If I choose, however, to receive joy from my walk with God, my life is based on what is heavenly valuable.  What is heavenly valuable will never depreciate.  It will remain forever.  I therefore have no fear of loss, and my faith has firm foundation. 

Eternal perspective:  seeing through eyes that look for eternal purpose in all things, in all situations, in all trials, in all relationships, in all joys, in all of life.  It is a framing of grace only God can give, and I am finding it a process, not a photostatic change.

Thank you, Father God, for your patience.  It is your longsuffering that pilots us to our knees.  It is your grace that guides us so faithfully to eternal vision, for You know without it our conformity to Your Son is limited by our fleshly dreams. 

I love you, friends! 

Mud Pies and Straw Castles

With hands stained orange from Georgia clay, I clasped rich soil.  The sweet ground most always was tough at first. But my sand bucket, shovel, old serving spoon, and outside spigot meant no problem. Adding water to a little well dug in the earth, I knelt and plunged heart and hands into the mix.

Dirty knees did not matter, much less little hands, bare feet, and nails all grimy due to digging and designing. I could not have cared less of summer heat then. Besides, I was shaded by dense wood that I thought reached the sky.

Taking curved fingers, I reached, scooped, held, turned, and shaped til the softened earth became round. I then flattened into little pies that made me proud and happy.

It was hard work for a young girl who found escape and childhood dreams in a backyard filled with great shade, climbing trees, pine straw, footpaths, and sounds of nature and neighbors near. It was deliverance from summer boredom. It was discovery. I felt I owned that yard of Georgia soil.

It was really my father's dirt, not mine. And yet, it did belong to me, for my dad always told me that what belonged to him and my mother was also mine.  And my delight in our land brought great joy to Daddy and Mama. They would watch from open windows and enjoy my imagination and their quiet.

My imagination never seemed to tire. When dusk settled in over Georgia sky, I heard my name and knew to leave my outdoor world and go to the spigot and wash. Later, a cast-iron tub, ivory soap, inside water, and prissy pajamas removed leftover play and welcomed my nights to paper dolls, books, and more pretend. Before I went to bed, Daddy would sometimes have to dig splinters from beneath my tender fingers that had used pine straw for imaginary walls in imaginary homes. I fell asleep with thoughts of old ground and new plans for the soil and make-believe world I so loved.

The soil never changed.  It was old ground that was always waiting on me. Even if I returned to it today and searched my childhood home, that old dirt would still be there. The earthy smell would remain as it did in the 1960's. I could probably find the same spigot, take a little water, get on hands and knees, and dig my childhood well and make mud pies and feel the red clay soften and conform to my desire.

And if I returned to my childhood yard and made mud pies again or built a straw house, I would most likely look around and ask the proverbial question, "Where did time go?"  At my new age of fifty-one, it is a question I ask often.  Wondering how years can fade so fast is the one not-so-soothing thought that, as my grandma used to say, reminds us most "things never stay the same." Things are always changing.

Now, at this point in my life, my questions of time are changing. Accepting the uncontrollable, my thoughts now veer from "Where has time gone?" to "What has time done?" "How has it changed me?" "What has experience done to my person, my walk with God, my relationships, my life?" "Am I a better person?" "Have I made my dirt conformable to the hands of my Digger-of-Wells?" "Is God really my Potter?"

"Do I let Him change my dirt to His desire?" "Who has designed my plans and my dreams?" "Are they His?" "Or am I still busy with my own mud pies and straw castles?"

It's a hard thing to leave your own life alone, to give all you have to Jesus. From an early age, we're used to making do and making up as we go along. We're taught the importance of potential. Of dreams. Of purpose. Of lending ear to self. Of living up to ideal best. Of setting sail to the world's winds. We are told by educators that we are the masters of our destinies.

For a Christian, the worldly philosophy of mastering one's own destiny brings conflict to the soul.  That conflict can even be war between the flesh and the spirit, as we strive against humanism and voices that plead for the salvation of personal choice over letting go and surrendering to God.  Perhaps the natural inner conflict of letting go of our own lives is one reason the Apostle Paul wrote 1 Corinthians 13:11-12.

"When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."

As a child, Paul said he spent his time in childish things: his own imaginings, desires, designs, childlike behavior, talk, and dreams. But, when he became a man, a Spirit-filled, Christian man, Paul said he gave them all up for a greater cause. The greatest cause.

Paul did something that few of us accomplish as thoroughly as he did. He surrendered completely. He totally relinquished everything to Jesus Christ, the Savior, our Redeemer, our Rock, our Deliverer, the Lord of all. His life was absolutely centered in His Savior.  Paul's only cause and his reason for living was Jesus. Christ was the Apostle's motivation for planning, for dreaming, for loving, and for losing.

Holding nothing back, he solidly proclaimed, "For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain" (Philippians 1:21).

I like to envision this mighty warrior of God as he penned that bold truth about self death to the Philippians from his prison cell in Rome. As I try to grasp this great statesman of faith, I remember another proclamation of Paul's pen:

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you (2 Corinthians 4:8-9).

What does it take for death of self? I believe there is much individuality in the answer. We all have our own particulars that God sees - those things that are spoken between Abba Father and us.  But, regardless of the details, dying to self so that we can live in Christ is a process of pain and denial, one that requires God-supplied grace.

As the heat of summer 2010 burns its way into my real, now world, I yearn for God-supplied grace. I need denial. I need surrender. I need death. I want to forget about my "straw castles" and "mud pies" and let my Potter and Master Carpenter take my hands, my feet, my eyes, my ears, my lips, my world and form and shape them for His glory.

His holy hands are never far away.  They are always reaching, touching the depths of our hearts and far corners of our souls. They find things we didn't know before. His hands crush, dig, and make a well in our souls that only He can fill.  He pours water, works, and shapes. And though it may not all seem pleasant now, God's handiwork promises a forever bright future. And, here is how we know that truth:

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future" (Jeremiah 29:11).

Let's live that promise today! Take it personally!  It is yours!  Though the Potter's hands may challenge the world's view of living, and though at times we may feel pain, his hands will never harm. His hands are always for our good, and we can and must rejoice in that fact!!!

Seeking death and life in Jesus,

DREAM DELIVERER

How did I ever pass college statistics?  Its intricate details of mathematical equations amazed and perplexed me.  Its formulas and problems seemed so infinite, so mysterious, so distanced.   

I am not a math person, and with much intimidation, I took the class twelve years ago, only to satisfy degree requirements.  Today, I am still in awe of its challenges and gladly admit that only by God's grace did I overcome them and pass the course.

Only by His grace did I deal with the samplings, variables, and probabilities.  God is good and merciful!

I respect disciplines that deal with numbers.  I understand them little, but appreciate those who do and use their knowledge to help others.

I have very limited knowledge of algebraic equations, statistical probabilites, etc.  But one thing I truly comprehend:  Such equations and probabilites, their designs, and their designers do not compare to the wisdom, depth, ways, and mystery of God.  He designed our world and its capabilites to yield to mathematical equations.  God's ways pass all human understanding.  His thoughts, His creation, transcend, perplex, and overwhelm the greatest statisticians.

God is infinite.  God is the Master Designer of all good things.  God is wisdom.  God is holy.  God is truth.  And, God is personal.

Our Father God, with His personal application, has His Own way of showing us His ways.  He has given us His holy word and the Holy Spirit to teach us and lead us in every area of our lives. I often remind myself of the Psalmist's revelation that even our steps are planned by our heavenly Father.  So, why should we ever glance from the Lord's especial prepared path or question His limitless, interpersonal wisdom?  In our humanness, we all seem to have a weakness for stumbling through life's fog and wanting to find our own way. 

"If I can just make this change in my life, things will be easier."  "If I can somehow make this idea work, my relationships will be smoother."  If I could just have God's blessings in this area of my life, I know I would be happy."

If. . . .If I had a hundred dollars for every time I tried on my own to improve my life and find a better way to do things, I would be a very rich woman by now; i.e., my own pride and ignorance have escorted me into the valley of pain many times, the sum of which has equaled a very accurate dose of humility and an unpleasant adjustment of my attitude.

God is so faithful!  If you are a regular reader of my posts, you know I marvel at His faithfulness, and I hope not to sound like a broken record, but the patience and longsuffering of God simply amazes me, and I have a hard time withholding praise for the personal meaning of that truth!

God is faitfhul. He is the One Who speaks in your life, even when you have made that wrong turn, even when your wrong turn has sent you in circles or routed you into a ditch.

God is faithful.  Through His loving Spirit, He speaks very intimately to us when we carelessly find ourselves on a dead end drive.  He is the One Who interrupts our own well-meant, but delirious plans. 

God is faithful.  He is the fire sent from heaven that suddenly licks its flame into your dearest dreams and destroys the "I" in them all.  He is the still, small voice that wrecks your direction and changes your life.  He is the Author of your faith, Who at will turns your pages to write His own lines, so your story will end the way He wrote it ages ago.

Yes, precious one, God is faithful.

Were it not for the patience and longsuffering of God I would be in the middle of the Mojave by now without water, food, or shelter.

He knows my frame. My heavenly Father knows my good intentions, though very unworthy, have always been pursued with a dusty, fragile, imperfect fleshly temple that reasoned and dreamed its way into a dizzy drama.

As a young wife and mother of twenty-four years old, I reasoned my way into nursing school.  "We need financial stability."  "The ministry is so hard."  "A nursing career will bring peace to our home."  "I can help others and help my family at the same time."

I mused myself into a mess.  I talked myself into near tragedy.  I ignored the precious, still small voice that told me something was wrong with the whole idea and to let it go. 

I enrolled in school.  Little I did prospered.  God refused to bless my plan.  My little ones suffered.  My husband suffered.  I suffered.  Yet, I persevered, being the stubborn girl I can be. 

Finally, I awoke one morning violently ill.  I vomited almost incessantly and was rushed to the hospital, where I was diagnosed with severe dehydration and dangerously low blood pressure. 

It took one month of recovery, which required my withdrawal from school.  I knew the Lord had had His way, and though repentent, I had a small fragment of hope of returning to my dream.  The fleshly, selfish nature of Andrea still did not want to let go. 

One afternoon, I sat on my sofa, questioning if I should go back.  I started planning to call the school and reenter.  My fleshly reasoning was hemming me back into the corner of disobedience.

Suddenly, in the midst of my daydreams, I heard my little sons crying out from our hallway.  I ran as quickly as I could to find they had found my blood pressure cuff, and in playing with it, had it wrapped around Chris's arm.  It was cutting off his circulation and was so tightly fixed and tangled I couldn't get it off.  I cried out to the Lord for help, and with God's intervention, His wisdom, I was able to free Chris from the product of my own rebellious nature.

I held and clung to my children and thanked God for His deliverance.  Later, I called the school.  I spoke with the secretary in the nursing department and told her I had some books and equipment I wanted to sell.  And I never once looked back.

Friends, we do not understand the reason behind God's voice.  But we really do not need to understand.  We only need obedience and trust in His will.  His will is always His best.

Not His better.  His best.  What a perfect "selah moment!"  Stop, and calmly think about it. Rest in that truth.  Absorb the reality of your possibilities with God's best.

Your Designer, your Architect, your Provider holds your best in His hands.

Dear, precious one, if you are struggling today with your own dreams, if you know in your heart you are hearing God's voice, as the Apostle Paul did, when the Lord asked Paul why he insisted on going against the grain (Acts 26:14, The Message), then take a few quiet moments to drink in the Lord's unconditional love for you and contemplate how through that divine love He gives you all good things.

If through struggle and conflict you are weary from keeping a genuine divine dream alive, take heart of that same love, knowing the One who birthed in you His desire will most surely bring it to fulfillment.  You have had realization in your spirit.  And, God, Who planted the vision, will pour the oil and wine in His season.

Perhaps you have broken dreams.  You heard God's voice in the past.  His vision for your life has now become a road invisible, filled with fog.  The enemy somehow foiled the Lord's plans for you through sin or discourgement or other devices.  Satan uses those broken dreams to bring you to further discouragement and make you feel like a failure, but I assure you, dear friend, that the Lord is your healer and restorer.  Jehovah, the sovereign Lord, can "put breath into you and make you live again!" (Ezekiel 37:5, NLT).  Call His name!  Forget your past!  Forgive yourself!  Have new hope!   

Receive God's best for you today.  He loves you so.