"Entangled with Joy" an uplifting word to "un" tangle and reconnect with the heart
This week seems to have sped up. Wouldn't you agree?
I just came home from sharing in a Thanksgiving festivity at my husbands Don's work. He is a Master Tech at the local Honda dealership. And also a Master at deep frying turkeys. We all enjoyed two different birds, one butter injected and the other Cajun-infused. Your mouth is watering I can tell.
I promise to post the recipe and video the process for you foodies.
As we enter the season of Thankfulness and giving,
I was searching to give you something.
Thank You to Many of you who have jumped over to Amazon or one of my other affiliates, via my website, it does bring a blessing my way when you shop.
So back to my search for something to give you!
One of the most encouraging things I have found is to watch or to listen to ourselves recorded. I heard a testimony from a saxophonist who was hospital bound with not long to live. The Lord told him to play his "videos" of himself playing the saxophone. The sound of his personal ministry healed him in three days; they released him from the hospital with a clean bill of health. That testimony has stuck with me.
Testimonies are found seated within the mercy seat of Christ. Exodus 25:22 You shall put the mercy seat on top of the ark, and in the ark, you shall put the testimony which I will give to you. Testimonies are alive. They are God's agreement, it's His will, and He desires to do it again. That is why He holds them within the Mercy seat of Christ. Not one of the articles placed inside but within the covering. Cherubim look into them.
I just re-listened to a short audio of my teaching, titled an Encouraging word from a bible study series I called the Many Moods of Minnie. Yes, Minnie, the mouse. That's another story. I found it buried in old files and recorded on a phone before they were "Smart." I think its almost 15 yrs old. It took me a bit to place it until I recognize familiar laughs from the audience. Just to hear them again touched me. We move on in many ways but hearing joy bubbling reminded me of what He has done inside of me. That is the heart of Thanksgiving a grateful "remembering" for what He has accomplished. It's a work of the heart.
My personal revelation has grown, thankfully I didn't bite my teeth with something I said. It encouraged me to continue to believe, to press forward, pursue. That God still believes in me, that I will accomplish His good pleasure throughout my life.
It blessed me. I believe it will bless you.
I re-found a lost treasure,
My gift to you.
Put your headphones on while you're making pumpkin pie or getting down the Christmas boxes from the attic. Enjoy your family.
No really, enjoy your family.
together, we sat and were mesmerised by her face;
A tribute to a kindred spirit and the transitioning of friendship
Smuggled & hidden In a carpet for 17 years, Selah!
A musical/poetic term meaning: just think about that! Pause for a moment and reflect.
Did the Artist Ferraris even know this little girls name?
How long did she have to pose in this overwhelming large room?
Great, Royal people are standing all around, terror, death and change grasping the country. This last hurrah of Empress Zita, the wife of Emperor Charles I of Austria, at Vienna's Schonbrunn Palace in 1918, hires an artist to capture on canvas an Aristocracy that was passing away.
For a moment, I'll call her Sarah, the little girl with the round face, sketched clothing outline and a crown of wildflowers in her hair, she is memorialized with unfinished pencil markings of other war orphans around her. The painting, smuggled by an Opera singer and rolled up in a carpet for 17 years before finding its way to a bank vault.
Together, with my friend Julie, we sat and were mesmerized by her face. The depth of Sarah's look, few eyes in the painting moved with you as you watched, pondered. Our entire girls day out found a deeper purpose, humbled, awed and sealed within our hearts.
Small in comparison to the traumatic feelings of the persons in the painting,
Today I am reflecting on the transition of friendships once more. All the reasons for Julie moving back to Arizona are blooming with destiny and opportunity. I celebrate her dreams. We also live in an era of technological wonders; I am very familiar with Skype, hangouts, zoom the list goes on. Not the same century as our little friend Sarah when hearts were penned or painted on paper, sealed, sent sometimes lost. We can communicate in just a breath. I'm thankful, so very thankful to be sharing that breath with Julie.
Friends, I have had many, some for a short season, others part of a workforce, budding friendships didn't make it past the growing pains of youth, the sad accounts are the friends that our opinions changed, and those differences separated us. No, not unforgiveness, it's just that sometimes you come to divine bridges and they are unable to cross with you. Our hearts can finally celebrate at a later time, growths that a disagreeable interval brings to us. You have heard the saying; I can count my friends on the one hand? Yes, I can! My longest and still growing friendship since 8th grade. If I'm adding right that is 45 years. I invite you to read Suzanne's shortbread; it's more than just a recipe.
A kindred spirit moving away feels much like this painting; there are still lines you desire to pencil in together but the moments spent are like Sarah's gaze. Caught in a timeless place. It's up to us to smuggle the treasure's God gives us, take the risk of letting go and number them in your left hand.
My heart is renovated once again.
I opened myself up to be loved, to be known, to question and that special friendship has enlarged my territory and spread out my tent pegs.
The genuine and pure of spirit are always worth the trying souls that pass.
Friendship's an unfinished masterpiece.
An in-depth video by Eugene curator regarding The Last Audience of the Hapsburgs
When Life is hard, holding onto hope
As firmly as I am transitioning, prioritizing my goals for the year, I noticed that old patterns, emotional triggers, even relationship boundaries are feeling pressed towards me making significant headway on my plans. If forces could be measured clearly, I'd say they, spiritual forces, were doing their best to distract me. Hope can feel pressed, even challenged. For me, keeping a perspective on the size of my accomplishment is evaluated within the scale of my heart. Only God has an accurate weight and measurement. I'm often off balance and sell myself short.
We all have gifts given to us that carry immeasurable personal value, even if the treasure has no monetary worth outside of our company.
Judy came into my life a little over twelve years ago. A bitty thing, feisty and a little confused. Sadly, we have lost track of each other for about three years. Even the distraught phone calls brought an odd kind of peace that Judy and life still had much to say. She is tough to love if she allowed you to get close. Judy's life is a life of misunderstandings, taken advantage of's and unfathomable tragedies that she has hidden in many personalities, compartmentalizes within the depth of her mind. During our season, I wrestled with the responsibility of her wellness and freedom in my path of faith. Jesus so gracious to remind me that she was His, His alone, that love is free even tho costly. I must press in for freedom for my life, family & neighbors but not be "PRESSED" in the implementation of the revelation of Christ.
Sit on and from the seat of rest.
Love with the lover of my soul.
Beauty does have a way of being beheld in treasures. It makes the gift irreplaceable especially when your season of friendship has seemed to have passed. Her life, Judy's life was filled with constant transitions and to think that she had managed to hang onto this valuable little pitcher touches my heart every time. Judy's pitcher walked a very rough road before finding its place on my coffee table. That immense challenge and that she responded by sacrificial giving is what has filled her pitcher in my eyes again and again.
I would prefer to see January as a potent seed that will multiply spreading its harvest throughout my year. I had to repent and look at it with a fresh perspective. The distractions may try to take the focus, seem overwhelming but goals have taken shape. My friend Judy struggled with voices; I admit I've heard "distractions" much in the same way. Another moment to repent.
See, when one pours from a pitcher, it empty's itself to make room for a fresh filling. Judy's Pitcher is filled with hope that continues to pour out over my life.
Shall we share its continual flow together, today!