Sabbath Week Day 7

Today’s Reading: Exodus 35:20-38:20

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Sabbath Week Day 6

Today’s Reading: Exodus 32:21-35:19

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Sabbath Week Day 5

Today’s Reading: Exodus 29:26-32:20

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Sabbath Week Day 4

Today’s Reading: Exodus 26:26-29:25

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Sabbath Week Day 3

Today’s Reading: Exodus 23:10-26:25

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Sabbath Week Day 2

Today’s Reading: Exodus 20:1-23:9

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Sabbath week

today’s reading: Exodus 16:9-19:25

I’m feeling the Spirit’s leading to take this next week off from posting in order to focus on Jesus and what His plans for this next season are so that we both can be on the same page. Judging by how the last few days have gone and the tremendous insights I have gained already we’re in for a wild ride folks!
Your prayers would be tremendously appreciated at this time!
For those of you whom I’ve been able to talk to recently you know how terrible the last few nights have been for me. (For those of you I haven’t spoken to, there’s a blog coming about it when I get back from this spiritual stay-cation.) Last night, was a night of watching (Exodus 12:40-42). The conversation that I had with the LORD last night was so incredibly inspiring! He is such a generous and living God and w have barely even begun to taste and see just how good and awesome He is! Great things are in store my friends, great things!
Don’t forget to pray for me and for each other! I love you!!!!!!!

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A Heart Filled with Miracles

Today’s Reading: Exodus 13:1-16:8

I was awakened this morning by the rolling thunder of a storm passing over our house; as the thought of the jug of orange juice in our fridge passed through my mind. Yup, orange juice. This is how God starts the conversation this morning, a booming ORANGE JUICE! And then says to me “there’s always enough to go around, it’s the blood of Christ in communion.” Yes, in this house communion isn’t always your standard grape juice. Sometimes the good old orange juice gets broken out and passed around because it’s the juice we have in the house. Have you ever made orange juice before? The first thing that you do is you roll the orange on the counter pressing it firmly with the palm of your hand in order to break the membranes inside so that you will be able to get more juice out of it in the end. Then you take a nice sharp knife and you pierce the orange cutting it in half. Then you take a torture device called a juicer and jam it down through the center of the orange half squeezing the orange half round and round the juicer until there is nothing left but an empty shell of skin.

The next thing that God showed me this morning with the next rumble of thunder was a vision of Jesus standing on the top of a beautifully round green mound of earth with a round loaf of bread in His hands holding it skyward and giving thanks to the Father for it. He then looked upon that single loaf of bread expected to feed the ravenous multitudes seated before Him and He broke it in half, handed one half to a waiting (and also hungry) disciple. Then He looked once more at the whole loaf in His hands, broke it in two once more and handed another half to another hungrily awaiting disciple. This continued over and over again, each time Jesus broke the round loaf in half, handed the right half to a waiting disciple to disperse to the crowd and then looked down upon the loaf once more again made whole until finally the entire multitude was satisfied and fed with hands on full rounded bellies, crumbs falling from their drowsy lips and pieces of bread round lying all over the green grass. More than enough.

With the next thunderous roar from the Lion of Judah He showed me the half-eaten pan of salted caramel fudge sitting in my fridge, aluminum foil still stuck to its gooey caramel dripping out around the edges. I saw myself prying the delectable prize from the pan, a small piece of foil refusing to let go of the sticky sweetness in my hand. And I put it all in my mouth, foil and all, in order to suck the sea salted caramel off the shiny surface not wanting to waste even the tiniest bit of the addictive substance.

Each of these things, made to be in the mouth, on the tongue, in the belly, not in the containers or wrappers. Like communion bread and juice, Jesus’ body and blood – His life, they were made to always be on our lips, always on our minds, always in our bellies like rivers of living waters but that couldn’t happen until they were removed from the container. This happened on the cross when He cried out His last “It is finished” and gave up His Spirit. The Spirit of Jesus, like the juice from a fruit, was removed from its container; like a loaf of bread His body was broken over and over and over again in order to make us whole. Like sea salted caramel fudge the communion, or Eucharist, of Jesus begs to be taken out of the fridge, off the pan and placed into our mouths, rolled around our tongues where His gooey sweetness can drip down our throats and fill our bellies. When we have tasted we will see His goodness and mercy pursuing us all the days of our lives.

Lastly, as the final touch in the conversation that caused me to throw back the covers and race to find my computer in the dark stillness of the very early morning He showed me the centerpiece of the Garden of Eden the Tree of Life. When Adam and Eve had eaten the fruit, believed the lie of the Enemy, God decided that it was far too dangerous for them to eat from the Tree of Life and live forever in their broken state. So He devised a plan that would save us all from the food poisoning of that fruit.

The cross.

The entire Bible is all about the cross, every word of the Old Testament points forward to it, and every word of the New Testament and our lives points back to it. As The Tree of Life, the cross is the tree that brings us life. It stands in the middle of history, the centerpiece of the garden of Life and Love. When we have eaten the fruit from it, believe the truth of the Living God, we become far too dangerous for the Enemy to stand against in his now broken state. When we taste and swallow and eat the truth that Jesus died to set us free because He loves us, we become immortal, in that very moment. Not after we die physically, immediately. In the Garden of Eden when they ate the fruit of the Enemy they surely died, they died spiritually immediately. Today, because of the cross, the Tree of Life, when we eat His fruit of truth we surely LIVE!!!!! Immediately!!!!! And every time that we give thanks for that fruit, every time that we live lives filled with thankfulness we are eating and drinking Jesus’ sacrifice all over again, we are continually digesting the fruit of the Tree of Life. Gratitude is the fruit of Life!

We have so much to be thankful for, yet so often we allow those opportunities to pass as we speed by at 55 miles an hour on our way to the next event in our life. We miss the opportunity to witness the multiplication miracle of time. It’s the only thing we have on this planet that we can’t buy and will never get more of… unless we are thankful. Somehow, pressing the pause button on the speed of our life to take a moment to be thankful manages to multiply time in a way that there seems to become more of it to go around. Like taking a day off every week to relax and recharge our systems seems to multiply our energy and our minds, taking a moment here and there does the very same thing. Thankfulness is a miniature Sabbath day wrapped up in a beautiful container that begs to be opened and savored, to be passed over the lips sweetly and then digested down in order to spring back forth over our lips as words of thankfulness once again as springs of Living water from our innermost being.

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Out of the Truck

Today’s Reading: Exodus 10:1-12:51

This weekend has been quite eventful for our family; we drove down to the other side of Indianapolis to pick up an engine for my husband’s derby car!

It was HOT out there that day. And the air conditioning in the truck was nice and cool, our refreshing drinks were in the truck, there was a radio in the truck to keep the kids and I company while he and the man selling him the engine loaded it into the truck. There were plenty of great reasons why I should stay in the nice comfy truck and read my book while my husband was out doing all the dirty work. But then when he moved the truck closer to the shed there was this bell that was just calling my name through the windshield of the truck, begging for me to come out and get a closer look, to take his picture. So I did. I put down my book, hopped out of the truck and asked the guy if I could have his permission to walk around his property and take photographs that may or may not appear on the web when I was done. J He of course had no problems with that.

So away I went, snapping photos here and there, wherever the Spirit led me feet to go I followed. The bell was just a warm up exercise, an excuse to get me out of the truck, it wasn’t what God really wanted me to get out and take pictures of. No, the real photo adventure was behind the shed in the weeds! That’s where all the really exciting stuff was happening. I followed the fence to the back of the property where the unknown was waiting for me to discover it. Where the critters hid in the cool shade of a thicket and chattered at me to stay back from their place of safety. The farther I traveled alone onto the back of the property the more I could feel the presence of God leading me. I could feel His excitement mounting as I neared what He had prepared to show me;

the intricate curls of an unfurling purple weed with delicate fuzzy leaves.

I rounded a corner and gasped “Lord! There’s a Queen Anne’s Lace! They’re one of my favorites!” I could almost hear the grin in His voice as He whispered “I know” straight to my soul. “Thank You Papa!”

I could almost hear the conversation between these two weeds as the wheat-like seeds of grass bowed to whisper in the yellow flower’s ears the secrets of creation that God has shared with it this morning on the breeze of the morning wind. The trumpets of the purple flower preparing to sound their blasts of summer as the heat poured out over us all. At this point I could feel the beads of sweat running down the funnel of my back and I began to think of the cool air filling the truck, this was by far better in every way. While I would have been comfortable in the truck I would have missed the testimony of the weeds. Their voiceless chorus of praise to their creator, their arms raised in honor, their heads held tall straining to catch every ray of His marvelous light upon their flesh. Their seeds prepared and waiting for the wind to blow, to sow, to plant, to grow. I would have missed the spittlebug’s nest nestled amongst the tall grass awaiting the day when its children would emerge from their bubbled birth place. I would have missed an answer to an unspoken prayer that ended up being an inside joke between the Lord and I. The other day I was visiting my friend Kelly and her cat Romeo strolled up to be pet and loved on, his fur filled with burrs. As we stood outside petting him the two of us pulled the pesky spiked balls from his silken locks and I commented “Where do they find these things anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them growing anywhere yet the cats never seem to have any problem finding them.” So I laughed when right there in the middle of my hunt for the intricate beauty of our creator there it was, a plant with those very same burrs on it. I had never said I WANTED to see one, just that I couldn’t remember having seen one and now here it was. I fingered the little burrs and marveled at their tiny detail, each little hair on the burr soft on its own yet together they become like Velcro in the animal’s fur. Then remembered that they were the inspiration FOR Velcro!

I was especially taken by these purple flowered weeds. So delicate, so curly like my own naturally curling hair that is straightened daily. I was fascinated by the way the flower itself straightened as it grew, how the flower began curled, closed, and then unfurled like a flag or banner, proclaiming God’s hand in its life by simply being there. By pointing its sun-soaking leaves skyward pointing to His marvelous light and using that light as its food. There is so much we can learn from creation. So much we can learn about God by observing His creation, so much we can find out about the artist by taking the time to study His art. And His art surrounds us from every direction, from breezy winds to the summer sun stroking our bare shoulders and baking them til deliciously crispy and delightfully red.

All experienced because I chose to get up out of my comfy seat in the truck and join God on a hunt for beauty. A scavenger hunt for something delicious and new.


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After the Storm

Today’s Reading: Exodus 7:1-9:35

I never know what God is going to have me do from day to day let alone from minute to minute. Last night, I was exhausted from the day and yet at about 8 o’clock I had the insatiable urge to go to the local small town grocery store and buy the supplies to make the new sea salted caramel fudge recipe I have discovered. So with now five-year-old daughter in tow we run off to the store to buy chocolate heaven supplies. As I stepped out to the car I was instantly struck with the call of the Lord, I looked up at the now clear blue sky that mere moments before had been a dull gray heavy with drops of rain and peals of thunder. I now understood the insatiable urge for chocolate; it was the excuse God was using to get me out; out of my comfort zone and into His glorious creation.

Five-year-old buckled safely and away we went to the grocery store to complete our chocolate mission. My left foot stepped out onto the moist pavement and again my gaze was drawn above to the mixture of clouds and fresh sky. Breath-taking.

Marveling at the dark clouds’ inability to cover the cheer-filled white clouds I looked closer. There in the near dusk sky was a pearlized crescent moon.

As the camera shutter snapped and I glimpsed the first twinkling of the moon on my 2″x3″ camera screen I breathed “Lord, it just doesn’t do it justice” and in an agreeable response a rolling peal of thunder rumbled off to the north where the storm was now raging as it had only minutes before right where I stand. My heart rejoiced in my Beloved Jesus and how He communicates with us all when we have ears that are opened and listening to His voice; ready to join Him in the pleasure of His creation.

Arms loaded with fresh fruit and fudgy supplies we pulled out of the parking lot and were drawn this time away from home and towards the open countryside in the hopes of getting a clearer picture of the sunset through the stormy clouds. I was not disappointed! Oh the scenes that God had set up for me, waiting for me to capture them on a Sandisk snuggled deep within my point and shoot Nikon. I park on the side of the wet asphalt careful to avoid the steep drop off, aim and shoot misty fog through near darkness over a still barren field yet to be tilled and planted this season, I am completely in awe of the color I am able to capture and the difference between the way things look to my own eye compared to the eye of this camera lens, the details that it simply can’t capture, I’m frustrated. I try again. Aim, point and shoot. Aim, point and shoot. Several shots later I put the car back into gear and pull forward a bit into a small gravel section just off the side of the road, a place for the tractors and farm implements to get from the road into the fields. As I turn to look behind me to pull out I am struck by the sight that greets me through my passenger side window. A broken down fence just begging to be taken home with me miniature sized on my Sandisk memory card… and my heart. Again, the absence of the bright sunlight and the presence of the still beautifully blue sky and cheer-filled clouds strike my fancy. The glory of twilight, the iridescent dream-like quality that it gives everything it surrounds. It amazes me. He amazes me. I smile at a bird a few feet in front of the headlights of my car peering at me through the grass; he refuses to turn so that I can take him home with me too. His beautiful brown and white feathers so different from the black and orange robins that live in our yard and seem to be everywhere this time of year, I can’t identify him.

I turn the car around and point the headlights once more towards home, but wait! There is yet another picturesque scene staring at me through the windshield waiting for me to snap it right up.

The beauty of an old barn worn by the wind and the sun and the rain, all constant and heaving yet it still stands, faithful to perform its duty of protection for those precious tools of the farmer’s trade. The misty fog of the earth is rising to surround it with mystery and night. As I assume the photographers pose, squat on the side of the road, car humming behind me, headlights shining in my hair, camera poised between hands, elbows perched to balance camera and body in order to capture the most precise representation of God’s glory that I can muster, yet it still does no justice to the glory that has surrounded me in this coming night after the chaos of the storm that has just hit the area bringing the desperately needed rain to the thirsty fields full of seeds waiting to sprout and grow and bear much fruit. I count myself blessed to have followed the Spirit’s leading and discovered these awaiting sights to tickle my creative side and my hunger for something special, something different, something Godly and glorious.

I traveled less than five miles from my home yet in that time I was transformed, transfigured by the aftermath of a storm, the beauty that it left behind in its wake. All… because I stepped out of my comfort zone. I left the security of my house and my air conditioning and stepped into the humid and glorious. I was suddenly surrounded by the sound of drops still falling from the tree’s lovely leaves, the birds rejoicing in the bath, all in chorus with the ever quieting sound of the thunder rolling on in the distance. Somewhere else the storm is just now beginning for someone else, mine is ending.

With an “I love you” waiting for me when I pull into the driveway at home once again. I love you too Lord.


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