Who Am I?

I had one of those, "Wait a minute!!!" moments while spending some time in Acts this morning. I was reading through Stephen's speech to the Sanhedrin in chapter seven. I hesitated just a bit when I got to his description of Moses in verse 22: "Moses was educated in all the wisdom of the Egyptians and was powerful in speech and action."  I specifically zeroed in on the part about him being powerful in speech. What? Wasn't this the guy who told God in Exodus, "I have never been eloquent... I am slow of speech and tongue"? What gives?

Pausing to give it some extra thought, I reminded myself that all Scripture is inspired by the Holy Spirit and can be counted on as being true. If the writer of Acts said that Moses was powerful in speech then he was. Simple as that. The explanation, then, must be that Moses simply did not see himself as God did.

Maybe he did not have much self-confidence. He did tell God, "Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?" That question doesn't exactly smack of confidence. Or maybe the confidence he did have had been tied up in the privileged life he used to live. Did he falter when his dwelling switched from a palace in Egypt to a tent in Midian? Is my own confidence (or lack of) connected to my material station in life? This is certainly something to consider.

Another possibility for Moses' distorted view of himself is that he simply had not learned to fully trust God. When he asked God, "Who am I...?", the Lord had assured him that He'd be with him. He had given him a step by step commentary of what to expect, and had even given him miraculous signs to perform. Thinking on this, it is pretty amazing how much the Lord was working with Moses here! He had a plan for Moses and fully intended to help him fulfill it. Yet Moses still hung back. Why was it so hard for him to trust God and do what He wanted him to do? Why is it so hard for me ?

I included the above picture with this post to illustrate the point I'd like to make. The birds in some of our local Metro Parks allow us to hand-feed them. Well, some of them do - but not the cardinals. There have been reports of a few people successfully feeding them by hand, but it is not usually the case. The day that this picture was taken was particularly blustery. We stood for many chilly minutes waiting on this beautiful cardinal to eat from my daughter's hand. He really thought about it! He hopped closer and closer, eyeing the food in her hand that would fill his belly. How we wished he would come! In the end, though, he was not trusting enough to come any nearer.

I feel like it can be the same with me and the Lord! He is before me with an outstretched hand full of the good He has for me, and I am afraid to come too near Him. I know He has things for me that will nourish my spirit, yet I stubbornly cling to my feelings of fear and unworthiness. How sad.

Father, You are good. Forgive me for the times when I fear the route that your goodness will take to work in my life. Help me to trust You more and more, joyfully accepting whatever comes from your hand. Feed me, Lord! Draw me closer and closer to Yourself, that I might walk intimately with You in an unafraid manner. Free me from everything that puts distance between you and me, that I may worship You. Help me to see myself the way that You do - as Your chosen and dearly loved daughter. I love You. In the name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

Bitter Provision

I took this celebratory picture to commemorate nearing the bottom of my last bowl of mixed Italian greens. Since a friend's garden had yielded way more than she could use, she had brought me two gallon-size baggies of them. Her family had been doing their best to make their way through them, but were not enjoying them as thoroughly as they may have hoped. I listened as she showed me which ones were which and what she had discovered about the taste of each. I joyfully accepted her gift, rejoicing in God's provision of fresh veggies for my family.

Soon thereafter I grabbed a few handfuls, washed the leaves, finely chopped them, and used them to garnish a chowder I had made for dinner. The first bite, reminiscent of dandelion greens, made me feel as though it might take me a while to use up the remainder. Boy were they bitter! Stubborn enough to keep up the fight, I determinedly ate my way through those two bags of greens over a period of about a week and a half.

I shared in my last post about my fear of God providing for me. There was no doubt in my mind that He had provided these ultra-healthy greens and I was going to eat them. But why did they have to taste so bitter??? Isn't the same thing true about so much of what is good for us in this life?

As I chomped one or two big salads each day, I pondered other things that my loving Father has provided along the way that have seemed so bitter to me. A broken childhood home. A sometimes difficult marriage. Financial insecurity. (Earthly) father hunger. Special needs parenting. Loneliness. I could not argue that, while not pleasant, these things were truly good for me in the long run. Each and every circumstance has had a way of reminding me of my need for Him and of drawing me closer to Him. I feel more and more these days that He is trying to drive home the fact that I am just not Home yet. I am never going to find the things that I long for here on earth.

I have previously mentioned that I am particularly fascinated by the way that the book of Jonah speaks of God's provision. He provided a great fish to swallow Jonah, a vine to shield him from the sun, a worm to cause the vine to wither, and a scorching east wind to cause him to feel faint. I am struck by God's wisdom in sending each thing in order to get His point across to Jonah. How skillfully He uses that which makes us uncomfortable! Our spiritual states are infinitely more important to our Lord than our comfort.

And so I press on, realizing all the while that each bitter instance of provision is part of God's plan for my life. He knows me through and through and will handily use earthly cares to work on my heart. He will sometimes provide a bit of comforting shade along the way, but will not hesitate to take it away at the exact moment that it is needed. Not only will He, at times, take away things that are comforting to me, He may then send something along the lines of the scorching wind to turn up the heat and really make me uncomfortable. It will often be during these very times that I will draw closer to the heart of God. None of us really look forward to these instances, but they are a necessary part of our sanctification.

Precious Father, You are good and Your love endures forever. Your ways are not like our ways for Yours are far superior! Thank You for giving us Jonah's story in Your Holy Word. How often I, like Jonah, want to do my own thing. I am tempted to be happy when You provide things that add to my comfort, but want to have a pity party when You send the things that are meant to teach me and drive me into Your arms. Forgive me once again for being so slow to cooperate with You in this way. Thank You for grace.

Your dearly loved daughter.

A Familiar Place

 

 

 

It feels a bit strange to have a picture of crayons at the top of this post rather than something from the natural world like usual. But the name of this blog is Speak 2 Me, and the Lord definitely spoke to me where these crayons were concerned. So a crayon picture it is!

 

I had been doing a cleaning/de-cluttering project and decided to clean out our crayon bucket on a whim. I dumped out the container with a sense of purpose. This time I would only keep crayons that were totally intact. I began sorting. Unbroken crayons with at least some point went back into the bucket, and all the others went into a giant pile. The above picture is just a portion of the several hundred that I culled that day.

 

I loved how tidy the remaining crayons looked in their now roomy container. I let out a contented sigh and prepared to throw the others away... but a funny thing happened. I found my hands hovering in the air above the crayons in a sort of paralyzed way. All of a sudden I was thinking of how many different ways I could use these broken crayons: creating pictures by painting with the melted crayons, making candles, decorating t-shirts, coloring backgrounds of pictures by laying them on their sides, melting them into mega crayons, etc... In that moment, I decided to wait to throw them away until later.

 

I can hardly believe it, but I walked around that pile of crayons for the better part of four or five hours. Each time I paused to pitch them, I became deeply distressed and just could not bring myself to do it. I got online and read articles about how many crayons end up in landfills and I battled with the thought that a responsible person would not just waste all of those crayons. There must be something I could do besides throwing them away!

 

Yet the thought of keeping them filled me with dread. I'd still be swimming in clutter and they'd zap my mental energy. Every time we attempted to use the crayons we'd have to pick our way through the mangled ones just to get to a reliable one. I'd have more to clean up. Still, I reasoned that I could scoop up the "bad" crayons and store them in a baggie until I was ready to use them for some creative pursuit. But I'd then have to store them somewhere! And for how long? I thought of how they could be there for years longer and how I'd likely condemn myself each time I looked at them, realizing how I still had not done anything with them yet. No, I did not need that.

 

After going through this entire mental process, I purposed to just throw them away. I snatched the trash can, grabbed a handful of crayons... and stopped again, conflicted. Unbelievably, my heart hammered away in my chest and I felt the effects of anxiety. Finally there was that still, small voice cluing me in that something bigger was actually going on. 

 

Don't you realize why you're struggling so to throw them away? It's really not about the crayons at all. You are afraid that you will not have what you need. It all boils down to you not believing that I will provide. And maybe, just maybe, you think that this is all you deserve to have.

 

Well, He really had me there! Somewhere along the way I have begun to mistake the Lord's chosen method of providing for me for something that it isn't. In my heart, I think that I have believed that I must be lacking... or else things would surely be different, right? It seems silly, I know, but I struggle not to equate stability with the Lord's favor. I look around and see others who don't seem to have a care in the world and I wonder if they are doing something very right to be so "blessed." I will myself to be content and remind myself that there are entire people groups who have so much less than me - and it doesn't necessarily mean that God is against them.

 

When the crayon incident occurred, I was very shaken. I kept chiding myself about how ridiculous I was behaving. Really, like the God of the universe was not capable of providing more crayons for my family should we ever desperately need them. Had He not provided much more on so many occasions? Just think of it!!! If I had such a hard time where something as minor as the crayons were concerned, how was I ever to trust Him in the bigger things?

 

I have found myself on a very slippery slope for the past few months. No matter the time spent sitting at the Lord's feet, I have lost ground in the area of believing His love for me. Circumstances have a way of clouding your vision and ushering in confusion. What seemed so clear just yesterday doesn't appear quite the same in today's light. This whole walking by faith not by sight thing can be tough! Life's waters rise and I am weary.

 

So far I have been able to outpace the clutches of that monster, Legalism, though he repeatedly tries to snare me. Maybe God will love you more if you eat the right foods... listen to the right music... serve more... die more to self... think the right thoughts... and on and on. I daily go to war against the thoughts that try to wiggle their way into my heart in order to take up residence and become beliefs that wrap around my ankles causing me to stumble during my race. It is exhausting! I'd say nearly impossible, but it's a good thing that all things are possible with my God.

 

Lord, thank You for being the Lifter of my head when I feel weary. Thank You for always pursuing me with Your unfailing love, though I am slow to accept it at times. Thank You for Your protection and provision. You are so gracious and generous to me! Thank You that I can never do anything to make You love me more or less. You are unchanging, the same yesterday, today, and forever. 

 

I am blessed by Your gentle reminder (once again) that I am not fully trusting You to take care of me. I'm so sorry to be walking down this same road yet again! Forgive me. Help me as I fight the urge to do this or that in a subconscious effort to make myself more lovable to You. Please gift me with the ability to truly rejoice with those who rejoice without slipping into analyzing why You are blessing them while choosing a more difficult path for me. I am Yours to do with as You please. In the beautiful name of Jesus I pray, amen. 

 

 

 





 



 

 

  

 

 

A Blessing?

This was the year that I finally touched base with a friend who is always looking for eager mulberry pickers to take advantage of all that her four trees have to offer. The berries ripen in late spring and provide a feast for the birds. Long gone are the days when an army of neighborhood kids would come with pails to collect their bounty. They've all grown or moved away, and the birds can only gobble up so much. Which means that thousands upon thousands of berries simply go to waste.

I arrived at her home with a few mixing bowls and a small step ladder. I was woefully underprepared! I really don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I was expecting that the "trees" would be more like bushes. You know, like "Here we go 'round the mulberry bush..." In reality, they were huge - much larger than our ladder could reach. The berries seemed limitless - much more than our bowls could contain. In what seemed like no time at all, our bowls were filled and a few sandwich baggies were produced for us to use. I could not believe how much fruit she had right there in her yard for the taking. I imagined all of the ways she could put the mulberries to use and kept telling her what a blessing her trees were. Yet, even as I said this, I thought of how that just did not seem to be the case for her.

I had been ecstatic to have the pleasure of picking all of that free food. What a joy for my fingers to seek out and pluck the plump berries with the birds looking on and expressing their displeasure with us concerning our thievery! My friend, on the other hand, had mulberries all over her driveway and yard. We squished berries with each step and she shared how they had twice replaced their carpeting when their children were young. We literally had a good inch and a half of berries on the bottoms of our shoes as we walked around gathering. The sheer volume of berries was overwhelming and the thought of how many of them just fall to the ground and rot each year was a bit depressing. I could see how the berries might not seem like much of a blessing to her.

Isn't it the same with so many things in life? What is great to one may seem terrible to another. As I pondered this I began to take this whole concept a bit deeper. I thought of instances in my life that have proved to be a blessing to others, but didn't at all feel that way to me. One of the greatest examples that comes to mind is the blessing that others receive by watching us cling to God through special needs parenting.

It's been almost four years since I sat in that doctor's office and began to absorb his callous words about my youngest child. I had asked what all of this would mean. What kind of quality of life would he have? Would he live independently down the road or should we prepare ourselves for institutionalization? His response? "Well, if I had a crystal ball to gaze into the future I could tell you what things will be like for your son. But since I don't, I can't." So many hopes and dreams died in an instant right then and there.

Life had not been easy up to that point, but I had clung to the hope that blessing was just around the corner. I knew that God would be faithful to us if we'd only follow hard after Him. We'd been leading a life that felt a bit nomadic with us moving around every few years. There was no steady, fulfilling, or well-compensating job to hold us. We seemed to be lacking in relationships - always feeling a bit out of place and awkward. No Sunday dinner with family or big birthday/anniversary celebrations. With no student loans, credit card debt, or mortgage to pay off, I began to think that God might send us into the mission field! It made perfect sense to me. I smile now to think of how I lived each day fully expecting my husband to announce that he was answering God's call to pack up our family and go to __________. I couldn't wait to discover what God's great plan was for us.

Sitting in that office, everything that I had fought so hard to make sense of just kind of slipped through my fingers. No, the explanation that I had come up with was not going to be the case. We were back to square one. We would not just pick up one day and move to some distant land to which God was calling us to serve Him. No, He was calling us to stay... at home... with no answers... with even more stresses than we had to begin with... trusting Him throughout... remaining faithful to Him... and inviting others to watch us navigate the sometimes murky waters of parenting our little guy... fully depending on His power and grace all the while.

And so I live each day on the mission field to which He has called me here at home. Always pushed beyond what I can handle, and always with an audience. God shapes me with a faithfulness that is so far beyond my comprehension. He means good for me and I can trust that He is moving all things toward that end. My only job is to love Him and follow His leading. He will take care of the rest.

I bow before You, precious Father, and look to You for rest. I humbly ask that You be my everything. When I begin to wonder if this journey that I am on is a result of my sin or if You are showing Your displeasure with me through it, help me to feel and believe Your love. When I remember the friend who warned me against having a fifth child, telling me that "Children can be blessings, but not all children are blessings from God," help me to see my son for the blessing that he is. Lord, I recall how adamant I was with her in my insistence that all children are blessings. I pray that Your grace will chase away the doubt when I wonder if I shouldn't have listened to her and fear that I am only getting what I deserve. I need You, Lord. Every day. Every hour. Continue to use our precious boy to bless others and point to You. Let others see You in me as I do this thing that You have entrusted me with. Thank You for the joys and thank You for the hardships, for You are found in both. I love you more deeply with each passing day and look forward to the time when I will finally be home with You. In the beautiful name of Jesus I pray, amen.

The Firing

I am actively praying about what I sense the Lord is speaking to me these days. I'll do my best to explain, but the things of the heart can be a slippery thing to grasp at times. How much harder to attempt to translate those things into words for others!

In the weeks leading up to Easter, I became aware that our church would soon be starting a series on forgiveness. I felt a little something stir in me upon hearing that little tidbit. I wondered, "Are you getting ready to do a work in me, Lord? I could not shake the feeling that He did, indeed, have something in mind for me.

But first Easter. Before getting to the forgiveness series, there was the matter of Easter.  Now, worshiping on holidays can be an iffy proposition for me due to the crowds and my anxiety levels. I have realized little victory in this area no matter how much I tell myself that it is about the honor, glory, and praise due God and NOT my physical and/or emotional comfort. The night before Easter I had already made up my mind: I would be staying home while the family went off without me to worship our great God in what I expected to be overwhelming throngs of people. I tossed and turned my way through the night and, is often the case, decided to offer a bit of resistance to the enemy after thinking it through in the morning. As it turned out, I would be joining others who love Him to celebrate the fact that Christ rose from the grave, conquering sin and death.

What a time of worship! I was so glad I had come. Our passage of Scripture came from the book of John, the eleventh chapter: the death and resurrection of Lazarus. Yes, I was very familiar with this story. The crush of people was not nearly as bad as I had feared, and I felt myself begin to relax ever so slightly. I sat, absorbed in the sermon all the way up to the point where Jesus commanded that the stone be taken away from the tomb. Martha, as practical as ever, said, "But, Lord, by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days." Okay, I knew this, but why did my heart do a little flip flop when I heard it this particular time? Where are you going with this, Lord?

It was unmistakable. He had something for me in those few words. I tuned out the rest of the sermon and meditated on Martha's words: "...by this time there is a bad odor." To keep it all in context, I rewound the words of the passage in my mind. Jesus was standing at the tomb of Lazarus, fully intending that he would not be dead much longer... and Martha, having no idea, could only think of how removing that stone would bring a terrible smell. I began to see what He was telling me as a vivid image of Him standing in front of my heart popped into my mind.

My heart. That place where remnants of dead things lay buried, the result of living in a fallen world. My heart, protectively healed over without the benefit of removing the shrapnel that had ripped into it. My heart... the place strewn with dreams that had died along the way. Oh!!! I could envision Him gently saying, "Take away the stone" while I stood there, horrified, thinking, "But, Lord! It's gonna stink!!! This is going to be so unpleasant. There is so much YUCK in there!" Yet I could sense Him telling me, "It is time, Daughter. It's time to for resurrection in your heart. It's time to clean house."

And that brings us to the picture at the start of this blog entry. A few days after Easter, I heard from the Metro Parks that they were closing down Springfield Bog for a prescribed burn of the prairie. The day of the burn arrived and we nearly went to that park to hike before remembering that it was closed. We hiked someplace else, but I found that thoughts about the burn kept tugging at my mind. For whatever reason I felt a need to beat a path to that park as soon as possible. Which is what I did!

I would be in the area the very next day and I was determined to see it for myself. I grabbed my daughter and we headed out. The sight that greeted us was to be expected, but still felt rather shocking. It was pretty leveled... and black. As we walked along, we noticed a comforting campfire-like smell. Every so often I stopped and let my eyes sweep across the charred nothingness that had once been an thriving prairie.

It felt so desolate. So dead. But I kept reminding myself that looks can be deceiving. I knew that the Metro Parks would not have ordered this burn unless it would be beneficial in the long run. I thought about naturally occurring fires in nature. Though devastating, I seemed to remember hearing that they were a great thing. Weren't there varieties of flowers that could not grow unless touched by fire? I thought of how the Lord sometimes lovingly puts us through the fire... how we can trust Him to always do those things that will bring about the desired result in us... and how He has plans to prosper us and not to harm us.

I got busy researching when I got home and was not disappointed. The pieces began falling into place with a surprising quickness. I suddenly understood what moving the stone that seals off my heart would bring about... what it would mean if I allowed the Lord to take His refining fire to those dead places.

Just to name a few things, I learned that fires kill back the invasive plants before they have a chance to take over. The products of the burn fall to the ground, sink back into the soil, and provide the nutrients that are needed for future growth. Amazingly, some seeds need hot temperatures to germinate. I also learned that the Metro Parks perfectly times their burns so that regrowth will occur before nesting birds return to make the prairie their home.  

I can so see the Lord doing all of these things in me, the one He loves. He knows exactly when it is time to move on to the next phase of what He has in store for me. He has plans for me, but he must first ready the soil of my heart. He has shown me that it is time for a firing to take place. Might it get unpleasant for me at times? Sure! But in His loving kindness, He has provided just the words I needed to give me courage for what lies ahead.

He knows that it is time to cleanse my heart of all of the things that have stubbornly stuck around. He knows the danger of allowing them to remain too long: that I will be hindered in accomplishing those things He has for me. I've desperately tried to beat back the things that should have been taken care of long ago. I am realizing, though, that sometimes you just have to get drastic about removal.

I love this picture! Is it just me, or can you also see the promise? The total destruction of  prairie is seen on one side of the path. On the other side, the promise of things to come - the reminder of how densely it will grow back. He is faithful! He can see what we cannot.

Lord, I am excited about where You are leading me. I lift up the remainder of the forgiveness series to You. I humbly ask that You give our pastors just the right words to minister to us, your people. I pray for an outpouring of Your Holy Spirit upon our congregation, that strongholds will crumble and fall as your people cry out to You and give You access to dark places in their hearts. Shine your light, Lord, and lovingly administer healing wherever it is needed. I pray that many will let go of things that have bound them for years and experience the freedom that can be found in You. Thank You for the attentiveness that I know You will show each of us as we do the hard stuff. You will never leave us or forsake us. Remind us to come to You, allowing You to carry our burdens when they feel heavy. Lord, our time here is short and we need to be about your work. We are not capable of doing that unless You purge our hearts of every thing that is not of You. Do it, Lord! And we'll give all praises to your great name. In the name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

Promise of Protection

I love the unique way that the Lord comforts me in my times of need! We came across this neat heart pattern on one of our hikes last week. At the time, I had whispered, "I love You, too, Lord!" I considered it to be one of the many love gifts He seems to delight in sending my way. I hadn't any idea then, but He had more in mind where this gift was concerned. A depth to it that I did not at first suspect.

You see, I got a call from a friend last weekend who also has a special needs child. From time to time we like to pause in our busy lives and see what's going on with one another, laughing and crying about some of the things we deal with. And so we caught up again. These conversations, while a blessing, can also get my mind wandering where it has no business going: the future. Inevitably, I begin thinking about what life will be like for my son if the Lord doesn't come back for us before my husband and I become aged or pass away. Will someone with unrestrained evil take advantage of him?

I needed something to quell my quaking heart before leaving for worship the next morning. Soaking in the Psalms was just the thing! In doing so, the Lord let me know exactly what His plan was for my son. He is so good. Towards the very end of my reading, my eyes came to rest on Psalm 116:6 - "The LORD protects the simplehearted; when I was in great need, he saved me." Of course! How could I have doubted? I thought of my sweet boy and his precious, simple heart.  And then I let the reality of that sink in: the LORD protects those who are like my Levi. These types of things do not escape His attention. I knew this was God's Word for me. Additionally, the preceding verse says, "The LORD is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion." Yes, He is all of those things. He loves my son more than I do. What beautiful promises for this mama. Praise God!

Thank You, Lord, that You speak to me so faithfully through your Word and through everything You have made. You know just when the worries of this life strangle and choke. You know the very moment I need reassurance from You. How blessed I am that You know what I need before the need ever arises!

In a world where so many are looking for meaning in anything but You, O Lord, I praise You for making me Your very own. I am grateful that You have caused me to seek hard after You. It is true that You can be found by those who look for You. May I always see You everywhere I look.

I once again place my precious Levi boy into your loving and capable hands. I once again trust You with His future. Thank You for the many promises in your Word. Help me to always see them and cling to them. In the strong name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

Living Small

These days find us giggling whenever we find our darling kitty stuffing herself into her basket. When Charlotte first came to us, Dara-Grace made her a magic scarf-lined bed in this very basket. It was soft and roomy... and convenient for my animal-loving daughter to tote around with her wherever she went. During the training stages where we had to teach her what was acceptable or unacceptable, Charlotte would always run to the safety and comfort of her basket when she had gotten herself into a pickle.

Watching her grow, we have often lamented how sad it would be when the time came that she could no longer fit into her beloved basket. As she increased in size, we found it necessary to remove the fuzzy lining that took up so much precious space inside the basket. Surprisingly, Charlotte continued to return over and over again even minus the comfy padding.

Last month Dara-Grace made a new kitty bed by lining a box with a fleece throw. We were happy to discover that Charlotte didn't at all seem to mind the replacement. And so the basket was tucked away and forgotten until we came upon it during some recent cleaning projects. Seeing her basket sitting on the floor, Charlotte immediately hopped in. Or she at least tried to! She had grown and the once spacious basket could now barely contain her. I thought she'd abandon it and return to her new bed, but she didn't.

For two days now I have incredulously watched this cat squash herself into this tight place. Each time I think that she will not be able to fit, but she has somehow managed to do so. I wanted to snap this photo of her piled in her basket today to document what I think is one of the last days she'll be able to fit in there. I am amazed that she continues to go back to the cramped and bumpy conditions of her basket when she has plenty of room and plush bedding inside her new box. Afterall, she was liking the new bed just fine until she spied her old one once again. Why does it still seem so attractive to her when it is plain to all of us that she no longer fits?

Why would she do that? It doesn't make sense. And then it came to me: Why would you do that, Tamra? Because that's exactly what you do. Didn't you just read in the first chapter of your book study that some people intentionally make their lives small as a response to pain? That they can fearfully refuse to move on to what God has for them in life and choose, instead, to occupy a cramped but familiar place? So it might not be the most comfortable of places, but at least you know what you're dealing with... right? Haven't you been making your life small to give others less chance to hurt you? Haven't you looked for every excuse to avoid fellowship? This is not what I have for you. Trust me to lead you to the place that I have for you. I will not leave you on your own - I will be with you! It saddens me to see how you cling to what you deem "good enough" when I have so much more for you. Can't you see that you have outgrown your current surroundings? Can't you feel the roughness of this place that you have grown so comfortable with?

Ahhhh... I hear You, Lord. I hear You. Help me to trust You more. And let Psalm 18:19 be true in my life: "He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me." In the beautiful name of Jesus I pray, Amen.