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No Other Sin

There is one particular sin I've struggled with the most, it literally is the thorn of my side, like Paul had but just looks a little different. If you know me well, you know what sin I am talking about. This sin has haunted me from a very young age, it took root in childhood when I was most helpless and unaware and took away my innocence. It then showed itself again at the age of 15 with a trusted leader and friend of mine at the time. Although I am a vulnerable person, I will leave this sin unnamed for your sake and mine. So that both you and I understand fully that sin is sin and therefore it is all measured by the same standard.
I believed this sin was a form of love and that it was the only way I could receive love and worth from those that I trusted. It followed me year after year after year as I gave myself over to it more and more, eventually hoping to become numb to the voice and to the Word that taught against it. It was what I desired, it's what made ME happy and it's what made ME feel loved, so how could it be bad?

It was all about ME.

The Holy Spirit and I wrestled from the moment I allowed this sin to get out of control. His voice never left my side all those years. He was only silent when I choose to fully immerse myself in this sin. I did not hear his voice after, I only heard the voice that led me into the sin. Except now it taunted me and filled me with overwhelming guilt and left me in tears for days.

Then came sweet conviction. Before fully knowing the love of Jesus I only saw the law and God's anger along with His finger pointing, accusing and shaming me. Little did I know, it was an illusion of God. It wasn't long after, when I was 18 years old that I had a great revelation of God and His love and above all, that He was my Love and because of it, I was fully free.

I would like to say Happily Ever After, that's it, I learned my lesson and stepped out of my sin. Little did I know that road out would be a long one and an intense refining of all that I believed. I came into a season of this sin in which God gave me over to it. He is not a God who fights us or forces us to choose Him or His way. No matter how desperately jealous He is for us, He is a God who keeps to his promises and He promised us our free will. So I left Him for this sin. I mean, I was still a Christian and I "loved" Him but you know, felt like it was time I called the shots to what I thought would fulfill my great emptiness. I began a descent into darkness, I struggled with depression and felt filthy. I would sit on my bed crying, yelling at God to leave me alone because I was determined that He could never want who I'd become.

I can see Him now in that small bedroom, standing next to the door, heartbroken but steadfast. He was not leaving, He was not moving, He was determined to meet me as I was, whether I liked it or not. He said nothing and in it, He said it all. I had lost that battle, Amen.

Eventually I choose Him. Walking out of this sin that had crippled me for so long was painful. It exhausted me as cancer exhausts its captors and brought me to my knees in my frailty. It's as if I was trying to rehabilitate my whole body after a life threatening crash and I now walked on broken bones in the hope that through this pain, healing would come. What this sin had numbed and let die, I had to walk out so that life would spring out of these places again.

I have recently dealt yet another battle with this sin and yes, it beat and battered me as I gave into its ways but I know I gave it a run for its money this time around. I've begun to come into a place where both my spirit and flesh no longer desire it. Little sprouts of new desire came up out of what I thought was dead soil. Desire and delight for His will have begun to bloom.

As I said earlier it intensely refined all I believed, my body, soul and spirit. Not because the sin itself was being removed, no, it was because the LARGE amount of grace I received in the midst of this battle that raged for years. I have many sins besides this one but no other sin has brought me to His throne as much as this one. No other sin has forced me to turn to Him for help when I thought I could repair the damage myself. No other sin has humbled me to the ground and shown me how utterly weak I am and caused me to rejoice in my weakness. No other sin has hurt so many people and forced me to form an unwavering kinship with forgiveness. No other sin has caused me to look upon people with relentless grace, mercy and love.

I no longer walk on broken bones. As a matter of fact I dance upon His strength for I know that though I haven't seen full redemption in the physical, I have been redeemed and it's manifestation in the natural is arriving soon. I will explode with joy when I have seen full victory from this sin. Mostly because I know that I have grown to a place where I won't need my sins to show me His grace; His grace will have become more natural to me and will be taught to me in a different way.

In conclusion to this testimony, I say that if you have given yourself over Him, His Word and the voice of His Spirit then it is impossible for you to dwell in sin and be okay with what God has deemed as a sin because His Spirit in you rejects it completely. One cannot dwell in death unless they have allowed the world to numb them to it. If He is your Love then His pain will pierce you because the sin you've given yourself over too has distanced you from Him. If you know Him, you will know what is an a illusion of Him and what is really Him, for His sheep know His voice.
 
I am not a fan of judgement. For as you can clearly see I, in no way have reached the criteria to be called Judge. Instead I want to be a David. A man who knows his weakness but understood His strength came from knowing he stood at the center of the Lord's love despite all that he was. I wanna be a David in that, if something in me does not line up with the Word of God I declare war on it until it's under my feet. "Search me O God and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting,"(Pslam 139:23-24). He knows you. He is not fooled and He is not disgusted. He only yearns to be closer, will you let Him?

Sweet Herbs and Cream: A Poem about Coffee/Tea

There's something so satisfying about a hot cup of coffee or tea in the morning. Something shared universally throughout the world. I wonder if everyone feels as peaceful and loved as I do in that moment because it's not something that should be rushed or done in a place of unrest. Aromas open the mind towards reflection with my Love and the day's adventure with Him and the days to come.

Literally the instant the hot liquid filled with sweet cream and herbs hits my tongue and creates a warm path as it trickles throughout the insides of my chest; it feels like the greatest of embraces as I sink back into my chair and deeply breathe in my surroundings and enjoy the moment for what it always was, blessed. 

The power of something so small and mundane lifts me out of this pride of what God can do in this place. That even in a cup of coffee/tea there is a very beautiful story or adventure that is yet to be seen. 

If you think about it, how sweet is a warm cup of jo shared among friends? Whether it be instant  coffee with a beautiful and mighty Ecuadorian woman or a long lost sister who comes from the same mountainous blood. It cultivates and nourishes an atmosphere in which one feels they can genuinely and freely choose to give, take, share and care. 

In fact, I know a beautiful Ethiopian boy at the age of three, that traveled far from his home as he and his sister joined their new family. Though America was grand, his heart still longed for his wonderful African land. Each morning, even now, he finds consistency in coffee grounds as he chats and drink in a splendor spirit with his courageous, bold mother. They will forever join together in these moments that had always been planned, even when they did not know that such a time would exist.

All over the Middle east they share tea with new and old friends as a form of welcoming one into their hearts, where you'll forever be, even when distance pulls bonds across the seas. 

Tea saves lives, especially those that have staked their claim that they are clearly a people that are Not For Sale! Instead of chains, tea has given them their way, in the thick and the majestic Amazon place, and is only the beginning of a bigger and brighter destiny. 

Oh! It's quite silly that I could write such a piece on a thing that is so easily within our reach. Its equivalence is far from gold and any other riches we desire. But how precious is a commodity shared by the lowly and wealthy alike? That cultivates such moments that I wouldn't trade for all the riches offered by the devil himself. I love these warm treats and the people and places it allows me to meet. But most notably it's where I tangibly feel the grace that surrounds me; a place I come too every morning and instantly takes me beyond my capabilities.

Petition for the Slave

You're the Lion, fierce and dangerous in every winsome way

Holy Spirit Your heart cries out for the slave

The one who is beaten and the one who is raped

Your anguish pours out from passion that crushes. 

And oh that You would CRUSH the head of evil, that spreads and expands like air in our lungs

Open our mouths, move our tongues and make our prayers many,

Make them for the girl who runs for her life; for the little boy on the streets with nowhere to hide

 Love evil hearts because nothing in me moves for them

My flesh refuses to speak out for even one

Unconditional love of a Savior is so much greater 

It produces righteous anger against the source of such disgusting behavior

Holy Spirit QUICKEN!

Help me to believe that one prayer can save the soul I do not know

That it will break the chains that I have never known

If my faith can move a mountain, can it then tear down more than one brothel?

And if corruption hold her with force and guards her under heavy lock

I plead Your goodness creeps in her soul

Like a sunrise that steals beneath the cracks

 That your face would flood her eyes ,extinguishing darkness as the beloved disciple has described

With You near, Your MIGHTY ROAR will be an anthem in her ears

Your arms will be her home

Bringing peace that will bear her incomprehensible horrors

Remind her how you died for her

How each day Your mighty army grows stronger

So that one day she'll know evil no longer

Don't tell me I'm naive!

That my petition to God is worthless!

I believe like a child, unashamed and filled with confidence

Can't you feel it?

I already sense that all of hell TREMBLES

If I must be here and she over there

I will FIGHT with faith; share my hopes and dreams with her through prayer

Holy Spirit in all your faithfulness

Make sure everyday that the one I pray for

receive this letter for these words are from her Savior

If you have ever seen the movie, The Whistle Blower, which depicts a true story of UN Peacekeepers in Bosnia who participated and found their pleasures in trafficking Eastern European girls. People who were originally sent to protect a vulnerable country that was emerging from a devastating war. And how ultimately the UN, on many different levels tried to ignore allegations against the known perpetrators within their services. When these men were faced with 'justice' they were simply sent home and faced no charges from their country of origin. UN Peacekeepers thrived in the sex trafficking business because they received immunity within the country that they were supposed to be helping. This movie is graphic. However, even this movie cannot fully show the emotional and physical abuse/torture these women go through. I was filled with anger and helplessness. I cannot be these girls' savior, I wish I could raid and crush each and every man with my bare hands who touch these girls, but lets face it, I really can't. That doesn't mean that I don't have power. I have power that is unmatched because of my Savior. I confess that when He told me that I could do so much in prayer I responded that I didn't feel like it was enough. Reality is, God has me here in Oklahoma. I'm here with reason and purpose and not in Bosnia, DRoC or Mexico, etc. where tragedy strips people daily. The places in which each and everyone of us are, is enough because we were put there by God. But we can reach into other nations through prayer and fasting, in ways that are greater than if we were to go over to the country ourselves. I write this knowing that not a whole lot of people read this blog and that's okay because as you know I write for the audience of One. However, to the few who do, make it a point and be intentional in praying for the slaves of sex trafficking, drug trafficking, sweat shops or who are caught in any other form of forced labor. Slavery is a problem all around the world but also within our nation. Dream BIG in your prayers, don't hold back from Him!

-Isaiah 61:1-7 (if you need help on how to pray)

A Poet's Past

I threw away a lot of writing that I did in middle school and high school. A lot of them were about boys, in which I thought every one of them was somehow the end of my life. Aside from the teenage drama, I suppose each boy I have dated was the end of life as I knew it and I praise God for it because by His grace I've become a better woman.  Anyways, here's a piece from high school. As I read it now I don't fully understand why I wrote it. I know I was in a dark place looking for light. There are two drafts and I guess in between the two I went through a change of heart, found some Light and rewrote the poem.

#1 A Little Closer To Heaven                                          #2 A Little Closer to Heaven
      
Today I climbed a mountain                                            Today my dreams soared     
So high you cannot see its top                                         So high you cannot see them
The higher I got, my problems blew away                      The higher they got the more they soared
Along with my loved ones too                                        And the more I hoped you'd be my loved one

If I could take someone with me                                    And I will take you with me
He would change the stars                                              You have changed the stars
And create the seas                                                         And created the seas
But he stands so far                                                        You stand so close to me
We are but two souls now                                               But I am still not yours

I come a little closer to heaven                                      I came a little closer to heaven
So alone and unaware                                                    So alone
As I look back and see him                                           As I look back I see you
Tears fill his eyes but joy consumes his heart               Tears fill your eyes but joy consumes your heart
His hamds stretch to catch me                                      Your hands stretch to catch me
But this time I will not fall                                            But by your side I will stand tall

If I could take someone with me                                  I will take you with me
He would change my heart                                          You have changed my heart
And create a smile                                                        And created my smile

But he cannot see it                                                      Though you cannot see it

We are two instead of one now                                    You are closer than ever

A white blanket comes in view                                    Your open arms come into view

I lay my head to rest                                                     And I embrace you forever

And slowly fade away                                                  Slowly I hold you tighter

Now I am a little bit closer to heaven                          Now I am a little bit closer to heaven

If I could put someone in my dreams                          You will always be in my dreams

He would make them come true                                  You will make them come true

And create my happy ending                                       And create my happy ending

But he's only a dream                                                  You're not only a dream

We are in two worlds now                                           You're my everything

Soon that day will come                                              Soon that day will come

For me to see                                                               For me to be

This great man, who made life livable                        With this man who made life livable

And dreams visible                                                      And dreams visible

Write

Writing has carried me throughout the toughest moments, the darkest, the happiest; it's held onto dreams yet to come into fruition. It's like a bank in which I deposit all things which are painfully honest or too embarrassing to tell. I think about the many who don't have the ability to write. Either due to lack of education, materials and/or freedom.

I think about history and how the world was forever changed at the dawn of language and again when the age of putting life in the form of characters in dirt, tablets, or any other material they could keep record of life on. This continued so on and so forth as technology advanced and we print news and record tragic and marvelous events. People wrote because they knew today or someday somebody would read it and that it would have purpose.

Some may think that writing is over rated. That it holds no cure for their own personal pain or even for the worlds. I read articles about the thousands killed in places like Syria and a journalists plea for the world to take action. I hear song lyrics that speak of moments so trapped inside an artist that the only way to release it's claim on their soul is to write it for the world to hear. We write to share the burden of a problem or to release erupting joy. I think of how some will silence the voice. Others will allow it to stay with them for a time because it relates to their own memories and present moment. Still, to many others it inspires movements or change and it heals or allows walls to be broken.

The permanence of print somehow allows these horrible and/or magnificent events in the world at large or from within  ourselves to become real or tangible, making it easier to grasp. The memory or moment can no longer haunt us but we can look at it again, face to face, and defeat it or remember it in times of need. Even if the print were destroyed or burned, the story would forever be told, giving it the ability to change the present and/or future. Somehow writing it all out, emancipates us to be vulnerable and raw, and it sets within us power that threatened to leave us just moments ago. It reveals a Presence we never thought we'd find or get back.

I wrote poetry all through high school. Throughout this time I was very depressed and so naturally, my writing was dark. It held anger, pain and fear. I actually felt guilty because I was negative. I didn't see rainbows or roses, I saw dark clouds and storms. That all seemed to counter my beliefs of a God who saves and gives bright abundant days. So I began to try and write songs of praise but it was like squeezing juice out of a used up lemon. I got a couple drops here and there but could never find enough to make my sweet lemonade just bitter and sour writing.

Eventually my thoughts saw less and less pen and paper. The whole notion seemed childish and dramatic because my pieces always held a certain amount of melodrama. It also lacked approval from certain people, approval I craved so much; so, eventually I showed it to no one. The voice in my writing became a wallflower, quiet and unnoticeable to both its viewers and its creator.

However, with God, my writing always took center stage. Believe me or don't but he brought it up in a prophecy that had been spoken over me. Two people who knew absolutely nothing about me and most certainly knew nothing of my poetry because I wasn't writing too much at the time. They asked me, "do you write poetry," in my mind I thought, sure if you could even call it that. I had little faith in words that I wrote and the word poetry sounded far too beautiful a word to label my own. Anyways, I said yes with a tone of confusion because it was very random question and of little importance considering all the things they could have said about my life. "He loves your poetry and He wants you to keep writing." I didn't really know whether to take it seriously or not....MY writing?!

Needless to say, I've tried my best to keep my writing alive for the One who loves it so much. Some years have been better than others. Most of the time I feel it's just my analytical, imaginative, hopeless-romantic, melancholy mind, babbling like a crazy lady in a psych ward.(see what I mean)  Haha! But it sets me free.

Free from heart break. Free from impatience. Free from my inadequacy to save the world. Free from stress and emotions that threaten to choke me up. Sets me free from lies told to me in secret that day. However, over the years it's allowed me to tell of a Love that's unmatchable to any other and writing about it sets my heart free, instead of keeping it locked away. Even if it is cheesy or ridiculous sounding. To me, this Love, (and I am not alone) it's real and paper helps me to never forget that. So I'll step out and put up a few pieces I've written, even the ones I wrote in middle school. No fear. No cares if you approve or not. Writing helps me to find my voice. And maybe it'd help you find yours too. But more importantly, when I write, I find Him.

I Dream of Favelas

I am an emotional mess. They get the best of me. But over time I've learned to love my emotions, especially when I give them to God and I share them because they lead my train of thinking deeper into Him and His vision. My night began with me crying out to God about a dream lost and God lead me to a dream yet,but about to be, found. A dream I had cried over before and had therefore I resolved myself to wait in patience until the time would come that this dream for traveling to beautiful places would become real.

I am praying about going to Brazil this summer for 3 months. I have contacted a group in Fortaleza. Although I have felt at peace to join this group for about a week now, I asked God why, why this group?

I have never been to Fortaleza or learned much about it. I don't know if it's anything compared to its rival cities, Rio de Janiero or Sao Paulo. I've dreamt about these places for the last year but not just the cities themselves, in all their grandeur and tropical prestige that line the blue oceans where the wealthy flock. I dream of their majestic and rebellious favelas.

What a vision to see these shanty towns in all their colors,shapes, and sizes, stacked one on top of the other. It's as if I were to explore a real life masterpiece; a poor man's Sistine Chapel, made up of cardboard boxes and scraps of metal, that serve as a refuge and a resting place for the weary. Built with hands that didn't understand how to construct a home in the first place but now it's where family is raised and dramas unfold. I've created these slums into somewhat of a dysfunctional fairytale in my mind. Where culture is born, music fills the beat of the day, children play hide and seek around corners and in stray allies and where today is all one gets. Today---a challenge I have yet to accomplish in a future driven country. Not only do I believe these communities to be majestic but I find favelas comical. In my vision (of future me in Brazil), I look up and see a tangle of telephone and internet lines running through the skies connecting one shack to another. Each line is pulled from here and there and you don't know where they begin and where they end; like traffic in a great city that runs a muck yet somehow, some way, information and connections get to where they were going. I try my best to be as resourceful as I can and so I applaud such a trait, even if it is illegal.
 A favela's beauty was born from the mess, holding people who own little to nothing. Whom struggle to be functional human beings in a society that makes the odds against them quite substantial, even dangerous, yet they wake up and seize the day with an energy very unique to these regions and the people within.

My heart for them, is to show them that they don't have to survive. That in no way am I glorifying their conditions or saying their life is easy because it's most definitely not. I long to see them have some of the same opportunities that I had growing up. To see them be able to read a book or a story; I want to see their eyes light up and feel their hearts race when they've finished a tale that mirrors their own. The opportunity to develop their leadership, that only they can provide for this world that so desperately needs it. For children who need more laughter because you can never have too much and God knows that I long to laugh with them. To show them that the world is at their fingertips because Christ made that possible on Calvary hill, in a city thousands of miles away from them. To reveal that sacred moment of sacrifice and love that seeks to capture them and save their lives eternally. To know that I can do none of this if I don't show them honest, pure Love, is such a sweet challenge I wish to adhere too. If that means holding uncleaned bodies, kissing muddy faces and holding broken hands, than I couldn't ask for anything better to do with my time.

I'm a junky for broken. Not so I can fix them but so I can walk with them. I know that God is near to the broken and his glory comes in their redemption. I come from broken and I wouldn't ever change that because God's ruined my life for love through it all.

Nevertheless, I leave you with an unfinished thought because I don't know Brazil or its people. Not intimately at least. I know the land by books, others experiences and through my own daydreams. One day this country will be tangible to me and then I'll let you in on a dream come true. Until then I pray one thing for not only these people but for a world that I am so terribly fascinated by...


 When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Holy Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God's love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. 
Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. Glory to him in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations forever and ever! Amen.
-Ephesians 3