Thursday, December 20, 2012

First World Problems Anthem






Here is a little "hero's tale" that I remembered while watching this video. I thought it might cheer you to know that everyday "heros" are among us doing what Jesus would do. If you watch to the end of the video you'll see that Water is Life is asking for donations to help dig wells for folks who do not have access to clean, safe water. 

So here is my tale:   One of our dearest friends had a serious medical issue this year and also lost his job. Yeah, I'm sure he and his wife could say, "I hate it when I loose half my income and almost loose my life!" While they were praying and seeking God about provision for their family of 5, someone gave them a very large sum of money.  "Bingo!" You  might be thinking, like I was, that a lot of money will last a long time.   A sum that could have potentially saw them through a significant portion of the year and given him time to rest and look for employment without a lot of stress from lack of funds.  But, our friend and his wife felt the Lord's heart for those without clean water and so they sent a  sizable portion of their own "miracle provision" to build a couple of wells in Eastern Europe.   I don't know if they gave through "Water is Life", but I do imagine that they saved lives with their decision.
  
In the spirit of the video and poking fun at some "first world problems" I share a couple of my own....so here goes:    I hate it when I want to put a book away and there is no room on the bookshelves for even one more book.  I have to lay the book horizontally on top of vertical books.  Ugh.

I hate it when I come home from the grocery store and I don't have enough cupboard space for all of the food that I bought-- and I can only buy 3 gallons of milk because 4 will just not fit in the refrigerator.   Arg!






Saturday, December 15, 2012

When a Child is Born, so is a Mother.

Twenty-one years of hands to work.  Twenty-one of the same;  the hidden and the glorious.  Hidden work inside walls decked with beloved faces,  grazing past brave works of art reaching for milk or cheese.  Blessed  years learning to patiently speak or not to speak at all, learning to respect the unspoken words, and reassure with special "glances".  

Twenty-one watching, awestruck gazing--offspring amazing, racing heart beating out love rhythms.   Twenty-one years watching new eyes unfolding his world of wonder.

Twenty-one years of gardening, washing, teaching, learning, bandaging, scolding, praising, buying, creating, repenting, cooking, budgeting, hosting, laughing, and crying. Twenty-one years of the same; twenty-one of loving.  

Years being all full and emptying all out.  Years cherished, unblemished, hands open, heart throbbing to be all of this.  

Twenty-one years looking into grey-blue eyes of glass;  trusting eyes, laughing eyes, innocent.  
Growing, learning, searching eyes, questioning, finding. Grey-blue eyes like glass, deep as cool well waters, eyes exquisite reflecting heart and reflecting soul. Twenty-one years adoring.

Twenty-one years thankful, and twenty-one blessed.   

                Happiest 21st birthday Josiah Tyler Drain 
                When a child is born, so is a mother.
 

Friday, December 14, 2012

Borrrowed Words on Faith

Taken from the devotional, Morning by Morning by C.H. Spurgeon. 

November 12

 Faith untried may be true faith, but it is sure to be little faith.  It is likely to remain stunted as long as it is without trials.  Faith never prospers so well as when all things are against her.  Tempests are her trainers, and lightnings are her illuminators When calm reigns on the sea, spread the sails as you will, the ship will not move to it's harbor.  But let the howling winds rush forth and rock the vessel  until her deck is washed with waves  and her mast sways under the pressure of the full and swelling sail.  It is then that she makes headway toward her desired haven.   No faith is so precious as that  which lives and triumphs in adversity.  

Faith increases in solidity, assurance, and intensity the more it is exercised with tribulation.  Faith is precious and it's trial is precious too. 




Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Being Angry

 Awhile back,  when the blackberries were turning inky and the grass was dry from drought,  I was angry, but I didn't tell.  Seems dreadful to be angry with God or to hear of someone accusing or scolding the Almighty, even though we know He is also our Father and friend.       Today I am joyful, and a joyful day is easy to share.   And when I found my angry words hidden in the drafted posts, I didn't clench my fists again in remembrance, but almost smiled because our Almighty, our Father and friend can reckon with the fussy heart of His own children (I'm only just learning this first hand), wisping away from our eyes the densest fog with a puff of his warm breath.  He can make us see clearly past the mist to understanding, can't He after all?


Here's what started it .  It was Ann again....preaching her gentle, wooing, stirring words. Ann said:
------------------------------------

   And if we want more Yes to God actions in our life — we need more Yes to God contemplations in our life. Yes to the blessings and yes to the ugly and yes to the beautiful and yes to the love and to His will and to the saving sovereignty of God in this moment who can’t stop serenading with His grace. In our dark, just to keep whispering our breathy, child-like yes.
In the Old Testament, the word “to will” is abah. “To will – to intend, to choose” — to decide your yes — abah. To make your will agree with God’s Will – that is how we say yes to God.
( Ann Voskamp)

And here is my tiny, angry reply to Ann's words.   Words written because my "yes" lately is  to His call to adoption and oh....... what a  roller coaster......... 
------------------
I'm wondering why is "yes" like this?  How is a simple, childlike "yes" the cause of so much of my pain?  No, I may never publish this post because I am in pain and who wants to hear about such things?
Abah – “to will” – it literally means “to breathe after” or “to long for.”   And this is what I've said to myself......my heart is longing...my heart is aching and longing......my emotions get spent up with this longing.....frayed by this wanting of God's will (this "Yes" to God) and it hurts me to wait for it and wonder about what I think I've seen.

Remembering long ago, how I learned  not to question my Dad....He didn't want  to see my disappointment, anger, or resentment in reactions to some of his will for me.  It was really not allowed.   And to the end of his days,  it remained that way in my heart.   But what of my Father of heaven?  He sees whether I choose for Him to or not to....whether I blot out my tears before they can fall, whether I try to suppress the confusion and angst......He sees me......He hears my questions and feels my anger.  What must He think of me?......How will He respond to me?  And I fear his silence most,  and I fear the emptiness inside my head swarmed with questions that won't rest.  Empty of answers, but full with wondering.

Confused...angry....sad in a bigger sadness than has ever been......hurt in new ways.......longing w/out fulfilling....... angry

O.k., yeah.....angry......So?  Has this ever been hidden away from His sight?  No, and my anger has slowly shifted from Him..... to me.  I know He is all good.....I know this...I believe this.  I know that the person causing the pain has been me all along and for this I am sorrowful in pools of sadness.

 But, I asked him to burn me.  I asked Him to burn all that hasn't been built up and formed by His hands in me...... away.....I am angry at it all and I want it all consumed by the hottest God-fire and put to  an end.  The "me" that isn't in and of Him hurts me, confuses me, leads me to quicksand where I struggle and fight w/ tired limbs and tired heart to pull free of it. It would disable me completely, choke me, drown me, suspend me for eternity.  But, He wouldn't have it. 

 And I heard Him, I did.  I heard him again in the pine thicket  when I was going round and round in that worn out circular pilgrimage to God's lap.  And He said, "What did you come out to see?"  And again He said, "What did you come out to see?"  And I said that I came to see Him look into my eyes, and to square my shoulders with His hands, and to stand me on my feet and send me out into my unknown with angels surrounding me and encouraging me."  I said that I wanted Him to burn away all the pretending and creating  that I do to make my "imaginary friend God"......those creations made by someone who didn't have faith to hear the real voice of God when the situations are more challenging.  The one who feared that if she waited for Him, there would be the chill of silence and nothing more.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 
This is where my angry post ended.  But God did not leave me there at all . ♥
  
So what I have found?  Say it to Him when you are angry, say it to Him if you are thrilled, say it to Him if you are sad.  What is outside of  His interest in you?  Nothing.
  He is able to handle all of our afflictions, all questions, all accusations, all willing to share the plethora  of  feelings and questions that we have.   And He is full of comfort for those times of angst and doubt.  

  What else?  God needs no help being God and Father.  (don't laugh at me too loudly--I might hear you)   I don't have to imagine what He might think or say....He is not imaginary or created by our ideas of Him..He is WHO HE IS...He does what He does. (smile!)  ..if He has something to say, He is able to let me know what it is.  Yes, I have experienced this many times over.      (reference:  John 10:27 My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.) ♥♥ 
Imagining opening the gate to more God paths today. ♥

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Adventure from ...Anywhere

 When you tell Jesus, “I will go anywhere and do anything …” These altars where we commit our lives to God in this way are critical.  However, when we find ourselves having gone to that place called “anywhere” and we are living out what often seem to be mundane tasks, we must regard these as holy before the Lord. It is here where ALL the details of Christ’s character being formed in us are put upon the canvas in much smaller strokes. If we are not careful, we can find ourselves busily trying to paint a beautiful picture for God instead of aligning ourselves with the Spirit and allowing Him to take the brush and have His way. (from the Live-Dead Journal)

  
  .......all the details of His character formed in us..........what a lovely thought for a Sunday .    

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Shake the Earth

 

.....this lady ...so inspiring...made me go "woohoo!" first thing in the morning!......I just wanted to share this because it is so "dadgum" exciting.  


She said, "I wanna shake the earth, in a way" ........I think she is.    I wanna shake it too.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Something to Imagine With

"And now if you ask how you may know that you have truly consecrated yourself to Him, I reply, observe every indication of his will concerning you, no matter how trivial, and see whether you at once close in with that will. Lay down this principle as law - God does nothing arbitrary. If He takes away your health, for instance, it is because He has some reason in doing so; and this is true of everything of value; and if you have real faith in Him, you will not insist on knowing the reason." --- Elizabeth Prentiss


And a simple observation for today--straight from the farm:

 Following Jesus is  an exciting proposition....always there is more in Him, always drawing deeper,  pushing against the flow of feeble thoughts to reroute and retrain.   


Imagining my life  w/ this Prentiss quote (above) in mind as I clean the little cabin this chilly Saturday morning , take a walk, feed the goats, and whatever. 

******************************************

Thank you, Jesus, for thoughts that are higher than mine....lifting my ideas of reality.  You act in our lives with absolute purpose in all circumstances..... all happenings.

 

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Joy, Pain, and Balance

When your life is shaken and it feels like to your core, it can take some time to find a new balance.  Mine comes through family, farm, and a small town with valued neighbors.  Golden chickens help too. ;)
           It takes time to see the beauty again that is around you and settle it that it is o.k. to enjoy it and accept God's goodness while you pray that others will be blessed this way as well; 

                                 to enjoy simple things,

                              to laugh at bunnies with bangs,


                             to pull up a chair and be thankful.


As HE has been showing me many needs and suffering in the world around me, showing me new places that I must venture forward into, I forgot to also look out the window to see lovely fainting goats almost ready to have little ones again,  and lush green leaves turning fiery before floating on breezes, lighting the ground with color and crunch.  I forgot that beauty and light and breezes and farm surprises are still mine to delight in

 
 If I wake early enough I can see hunters going on first ever hunts, and Dads learning something new for the love of sons.
 And if I pry away from computer screens, documentaries, or books on the destitute, and drive down town, I can see this most wonderful tuba player playing for the last time with his high school marching band.  I can enjoy how handsome he his becoming and feel that "momma" pride. 
I can oversee science experiments where household ingredients create gases which blow up balloons and amaze one and all. 

I'm thinking that there must be balance and room for happiness and joy and blessings.  And at the same time, there must be concern for those described as  the "least of these" by  HIM who leads us on.  Maybe I am finding some balance these days.....and maybe finding my way through the inward shaking to some resolve . ♥  To hold "the least of these" in my prayers, in my heart, in my plans, in my hopes, and still delight in my God each day giving Him thanks for all that is ours. 

37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’





Thursday, October 25, 2012

Warning: Heavy Hearted Words Below

I was never really "Daddy's little girl", but my Dad was a presence of peace, stability, and love to me.   He had large hands and broad shoulders that could hold the world up off of our heads if he needed to. 

 One day my mother called me to say that my Dad had cancer; terminal and fierce....One year later, he passed away quietly surrounded by a group of family and friends, my Mom laboring with him as if she could help him continue to breath.   The process of his illness and death was one of the most excruciating events of all of my experiences.  I grieved  the change from having a well parent to an ill parent, and for our past together ( my childhood).  I grieved at his decline, and grieved again with finality over his death.   I touched his massive hands that last day a dozen times and tried to soak in the lines of his face.  How could I live now, a happy life with this...this tragedy It felt so wrong. I cried for a long time.  But, I rarely cry any more
 
Why don't I cry anymore?

I know it may be obvious, but I try not to remember, or look at his pictures except on a glance, and when I speak of him, I don't think deeply.  I leave the tapes of his voice in the drawer and the videos in their cases.  And maybe I have sort of compartmentalized my feelings about this and tucked them away-- don't we all? It is a great arrangement that probably most people have going on who have lost in life deeply, and it is a way to carry on.  Without it, I would still be crying.  I hide from my grief.  I hide.

These days are for letting some grief in.

Over the weekend my mom-in-law had a garage sale.  She picked up one of the books on her sale table that someone had donated   and handed it to me.  It was called "Saving Zimbabwe".  She said, "You like Africa, why don't you keep this one for yourself?" 337 pages later, the shadows of grief came and lingered.  For a couple of days I peered into the lives of people who were just like me; living out the story that God had given them, regular folks hoping to follow God's will. They were Zimbabweans mostly, both black and white living in a community that loved and cared for one another in the purest ways.  They extended their love into their community and to their country.  The essence of the story was just like yours and mine, but in their story was great opposition to their love and faith and in the end, a terrible, ugly, tragedy occurred......they were each martyred together men, women, children, and infants, for their acts of love and service.  On a day that I was probably headed off to classes or to work as a 19 year old, they were laying down their lives to men who hated them and all that HE, the Almighty, had put in their hearts to give.

Unexpected reality check. 

Out of summer emerges autumn and from autumn creeps the cold of winter, and this is a season to let some grief in and to allow some tears to flow, pausing from assuring myself of how safe I am, how good my life can be, how bright my future is, and how sure the love around me remains.  It is simplistic but true to say that "not everyone enjoys this reality", and it is also a grievous reality that I haven't always seen this, or cared.  

Reality is that for all of the happy and safe people on earth, there are also people that hurt because of family disputes,  job losses, sickness, old age, old wounds, failures, loneliness---- people starving, loosing hope and homes, loosing parents, dignity, loosing lives. And I may just need to cry for a long while and soak in the comfort of forgiveness for my closed eyes.........because these realities are not new.....it's only my "seeing" with compassion that is.

 After the martyrs were taken it was told that a great light shown down from the night sky and illuminated the scene, infuriating and frightening the murderers, lost and full hate.  HIS love will always light up the darkness and in HIS presence is fullness of joy (Psalms 16:11).   And grief is not the end...maybe it is the beginning of something more beautiful.  


(please overlook the bold and light letters in the post.  I didn't seem to have control as to this function as something seemed a bit haywire in that way with my blog server)







 

  









 




Friday, October 19, 2012

Changing

Donald Miller said that the seasons remind that we must keep changing; that that is God's way.

 I immersed in a few of his books in 2010.......I remember always sighing as I read,  feeling  a longing to soak fully in the words on the pages and the ideas. 
 He says that life is a living cast with a billion beautiful characters and it's almost over for you and for me.  He continues saying that it doesn't matter how old you are; it is coming to a close quickly....your roll in this script. Soon the credits will roll and all of your friends will fold out of your funeral and drive to their homes in cold and still silence.  That sounds a bit morose, but when I read it the first time, it was sort of riveting because I, of course, was and am still living, playing my part and the words lead me to think about my life and the limited lines that are mine to give.

I have a limited amount of lines.

  I have a limited amount of, "I love you's" and "How can I help you's" and "I'm sorry's".  I can only smile a limited amount of smiles and bandage a few boo-boos, help resolve a few more disputes, pray prayers, fall to sleep a few more times.  It is all limited by the amount of already decided days that I will occupy within my human frame and it is yet moving along all around me, even  as I type the play moves on.

 It's moving along like a slow moving stream........

 We were on a short vacation just before school was to begin that year in 2010 and as I sat near a slow moving creek where our boys were fishing, I read Donald Miller and I wrote a note to myself.  I encouraged myself to try and live "present"...to try and live engaged and present and on purpose for all of my days.  "Keep trying, Rhonda......keep working to be more patient, more supportive, more helpful, more nurturing....more alive and more here.....try, try.  And try not to take for granted; try to be present in your precious moments." 

It is two years since and now summer has changed to autumn and I felt it so clearly, maybe because I was changing too.....  like the seasons; by the hand of the King, falling backwards into the languid stream of  amazing grace, only being carried by it, not by my mad rowing....not my trying at all.
 Changing not by trying, but by yielding like the season, to the author's hand of change.  Not growing up, taking hold, figuring it all out, and working so hard, but by letting loose, becoming more like a child, more dependent, more willing.  

The seasons remind that we must keep changing, he says.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

My Expectations vs. Expecting His Goodness

Life’s biggest kill joy is expectations.”-- Ann Voskamp

I wrote to my friend today lamenting my inability to do anything to move forward with plans and dreams around here.  Not my own plans, not my own dreams, but dreams I attribute to the Dream Maker, that perfect Dream Giver.  I told of how vulnerable I feel, how crazy I will seem to me if my dreams sit in limbo, only sharing the space in my heart with my doubts  and never making their sweet appearance into light.

I told her I was "adjusting my expectations".  And now a few hours later I'm still wrestling with my  heart, wrestling  like some giant crock slid in, grabbed hold and started a death roll.....me spinning round his twisting.  I suppose it's o.k. to let them die; the expectations that is, those that say that  my journey should look like your journey, hers, or so many others that I see.  It is so very easy to set my eyes on others- to derive my expectations out of  the way that their story goes and of their God-tales, forgetting that the most awesome,  joyous life  that we each can live is the one that is uniquely ours.

I must wrestle out this truth from the rest and hang on to it;  I can expect that all of His plans for me and you are good no matter how long you wait, no matter how unsure you become.   And trials are not the equal of failure and even failures are used for our good in His great kingdom. 

 There is just so much of "me" still living inside this human frame. So much spiritual muscle that needs developing.

Many times life’s biggest kill joy is expectations---true, true
Until we turn our expectations toward His good heart and always believe in it....even if we must wrestle through to believe.  

These verses came my way  yesterday and then again this morning on a facebook post.  This is real life business.  How to stand your ground.

13 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.

14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place,

15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.

16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.

17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.


Saturday, September 29, 2012

Birthdays Are for Looking Up

I've been longing to put my prints to these keys this whole week long, but my thinking is so muddled and unruly that there was no real point to saving such puddles of unorganized thinking.  

I read a couple of books by  American authors, but instead of inspiration, a faint yawn broke free and fell.  Not because they were sorry books, more because my "receiver - processor" was just out of good working order.  I also read how the apostle Paul struggled with those Corinthians and then Ephesians until he seemed "red in the face" (maybe a southerner's expression only; means he seemed frustrated, encase you wondered).  He so wanted the REAL gospel to LIVE out among those folks that he so loved.  But I think he wanted it even more because he so loved that "Gospel Maker".

But today is my birthday.  I have turned 46 years old overnight and even though my body feels a little under the weather, suddenly I feel so alive and grateful for 46 opportunities wrapped into those 365 days, perusing past those four distinct seasons and always starting back here in the first of autumn again on September 29th.  

It is cool and moist outside this morning.  It is quiet and tranquil in my little cabin on our Four Oaks Farm.  The rooster is crowing up a "roostery" storm outside.  Is he telling me it's time to come out and walk awhile in the pine thicket?  He has just reminded me that that would be a splendid way to start a day like a Saturday birth - day. 

 I'll go out and  be grateful for this day with my best friend- husband, and my family of boys turned to men.  I'll go out and say thank you for my mother who  prepares  a feast for us all to enjoy and a "magical" time each week to gather around her table for conversations,  for eyes to see love across the table, and to make memories to hold for later on.  Last night I knew the feast was for me and the cake, my birthday cake --and we didn't need the candles.

I'll be grateful for another year to love people who surround me, and some I will seek out to love.  I will pray to see the "Gospel Maker" more real, more consistently, more "first" this year of 365 days and 4 seasons.  My birthday prayer will be to see HIM and believe in all that He is for every day and for all of us.  There is always hope for better days and more believing, especially starting on birthdays. 

 My friend said that she was glad that we didn't have to "do one day without Him" and I thought that an awesome thought!  Not one more day do we have to "do" without Him.  Not one more birthday without, and not one more day.  And we don't have to look ahead without Him and we surely don't have to look at all that's behind us without Him right there inside of our hearts.  

Today I'm thinking that birthdays are for looking up.


For looking around at all that you're blessed with.





Saturday, September 8, 2012

Boyhood Passing

He helps me around here.  He pulled the carpet tacks out of the floor and helped haul away the old carpet.  There was no stopping him until the floor was all clear of tacks.
He and I swing until the bats come out.  He says we should count them every time.  He wants to talk with me into the night; how blessed am I. 




He went on vacation with Uncle Wayne and Aunt June.  He packed this perfectly organized suitcase himself.  


He always wears a hat, except on Sunday which we've declared our one day to enjoy the site of his shiny brown hair.  And he owns more than one black Captain America t-shirt.


He is excellent in all that he does and fries fish to perfection.


He has a highly developed sense of humor and sometimes plays the mandolin or drums. 



 Some more of the things I love about him: 

He's the only 11 year old that I know who uses the phrase, "Woe Nelly!" 

 He likes to cut down trees and make his own glue from pine tree sap and charcoal.  

One of his favorite friends (and heros) is our 82 year old neighbor, Mr. S. I love how he stalks the fence line waiting to see if Mr. S. will come out to work in his yard just so that he can snag a few minutes to talk to him.  

When I tell him how wonderful he is, he always asks me why.  I  tell him all the ways that he blesses me and why I am so proud of him.  It always takes awhile.

I've been thinking a lot of how he will turn 12 in a few months and how these little boys days are drawing to a quiet close.  So, I plan to hold his hand in parking lots every chance that I get, even though he lets go when he realizes what he's doing these days. I plan to let him come out as often as he wants and interrupt my prayers in the pine thicket, because he only wants to chat for a minute, and I hope to sit with him and count the bats into the  night for as many nights as we can see our way out to the old swing. 

Fishin' at Gar Creek


Wednesday, August 22, 2012

What He Really Needs

He said, "I need a Chinese water stone", used to sharpen the blades of knifes, scissors, hedge clippers, machetes,  and axes, etc.  Why a boy of 11 needs to sharpen all of these things remains a mystery to me.  Do we even own a machete?  

He said, "I almost have enough money saved to buy an ax."  I wonder what does a boy this size do with an ax?  He says, "I will cut down trees that I can use for stuff". Since there is no ax here (yet) he and his brother have gone out to saw down a small tree for bow making.

Last week he said he needed a roll of black string; he was making a net to trap animals with (we buy our meat from the store!).  He needed a piece of wood.  He was making a net making tool.  Always he needs new and curious things to work out what he's been working on within. 

net making tool and card

He's just this little boy with a big hat and bigger thirst for bringing his imagination to reality every day.

I felt Him nudge me as I thought of my son; nudged about imagination and the way in which I use mine, or don't.  I've never liked it much....didn't have many  little girl dreams,  didn't "get" the dreamers of this world, didn't read fiction ( a waste of time, I thought)   A teacher once coined it, "The Theater of Your Mind".   When my son's imagination engages, I can only imagine that he is the greatest hunter ever beheld; trapping wild game, shooting the 12 point buck, trapping the craftiest bobcat, raccoon, and possum, catching the leviathan of fish. Only occasionally does he have to scale back his assault when he inadvertently snags a goat by the hoof, or the biggest catch of all, the day he caught his father while he brush hogged the pine thicket.  Quickly a request was made to remove all high hanging snares that could possibly endanger inadvertent human prey.  (Dad was able to stop the tractor in time to save his hand).  There is no hiding what exploits he's dreaming of  as it all spills out around here in visible heaps.  

A couple of years accumulated Christmas gift--live traps


 So the idea that HE would like ME (and maybe You too) to dream and imagine is new and bewildering--- and not just a little exciting.  And I have been doing it....doing the work of a dreamer, blowing the dust off of the imagination station and seeing big things.  

When I was very small I had one memorable dream...I imagined having a pony of my own.  When I was 39 years old a woman from out east called to inquire on purchasing sheep from our farm.  In the course of the conversations, she, a Christian, felt lead of God to give me a gift.  She sent a photograph .



Why would a complete stranger want to give such a gift?  It had been more than 35 years since I had dreamed the dream of having one.........and I didn't ask for a registered Welsh pony of such quality.  I only  wanted a pony. 

I tried to trade the woman, my sheep for this animal, but she would not have it.  She said a gift is not paid for, it is given.  In the end, she purchased our sheep and delivered this beautiful pony to our farm.  I don't ride him, yet I enjoy his presence like no other animal I've ever had.  I hug him, I brush him, I watch him run with this glory that is unearthly.   I imagined and He supplied.  

So, these days of imagining and day dreaming, I'm asking Him to supply even the dreams and let me see in my  mind's eye what He has for me .  I'm asking that He won't let me shrink down His plans, not dowse His flames, not limit Him and me.   And I think that what He is working within will have their day, will have their moment in the sun like my son's secret thoughts revealed in real time and real life.  Never had it occurred to me to ask the Almighty for imagination until the day He invited me to. 

And I made the statement at the start, "What He Really Needs" and I pause thinking.  Until right now, I'm not really sure.  Until now I didn't know that I needed it too.  He needs to stay there, right where he is.  Stay in the place where he broods over the well spring that his dreams flow up from, that place of wonder that is God's. 

And lastly, I will add that today we brought home an ax from the farmer's co-op.  He saved enough.  We chopped down a tree.  He is going to "use it for stuff".   And I am going to see where my imagination takes me as well.  ;)  Takes me away into His will.