A HEART INSPIRED

Christians have a language all of our own. In each others company we inevitably steer our conversation toward the direction of inquiring of the Lord's presence in our lives. We acknowledge Him and His goodness, we praise Him....we comfort one another with His promises. It really is a dialect, all on its own, unlike those of non-believers. I smile just thinking about it. Often, in the presence of a non-Christian, I find myself longing for this comforting dialogue. There is a term often used in Christian Speak...."Don't Believe The Lies". These lies are the untruths whispered to us...either in our own minds, through media and society, sometimes, through the people we choose to associate with, sometimes, even from our loved ones. These lies are not of God. They are from the deceiver. The one who comes to kill, steal and abolish. When I was much younger, I heard these voices whispered . You are not pretty enough; You are not smart enough. You will never, ever be

There is no other emotion or experience that I can compare to repentance. The true, deeper than deep, gut wrenching, life changing, blood pumping, fist clenching, labor of sorrow. Sure, repentance is an action we take, but more than that is the seed that begets a new life. A seed may seem small to the naked eye, but think about its sole purpose. Think about what it becomes. When buried in the rich soil, watered and exposed to the light, it flourishes into the very nourishing, beautiful and sustainable life source one could not have fathomed had it not been witnessed. We've all taken a seed and planted it in those cute little styrofoam cups in kindergarten. Some dark dirt, a little tender loving care, and a window sill and before our very eyes, sprouts a stem. A little more loving care, and some more sun light  and a leaf buds. Its magical to watch. A birthing.  From just a tiny seed. The source of our seeking stems in repentance. Receiving forgiveness for the grievances we m

She lay in the meadow, the stars above She lay in the fields, dreaming of love Her beddress clinging, on the dewy bed Her heart pounding, deep in her head The heavens they twinkled, made promises too The dreams lay before her, if she only knew That daggers would pierce, and the wound would burn That she held in her hands, the stone she must turn A life lived  and only half spent A life forgotten and scarred with regret She lived her life as best she could Sometimes bad and sometimes good Dreams she drempt and tears she wept Dreams were born and promises kept She heard a voice, so mighty and true She held out her hands, for what else could she do There is One, who knows her, in her shame There is One, who loves her, just the same Forgiveness was birthed, and given in trust Forgiveness was had, and lay in the dust The stars they grew dim, in the early dawn The lies of the past, no longer a pawn How the sun it rises, to give hope and a way How much you