Advent-uring with God: With haste!

When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has come to pass, which the Lord has made known to us. So they went with haste and [by searching] found Mary and Joseph, and the Baby lying in a manger.  - Luke 2:15-16

After being told good news by angels, the shepherds could have sat back and talked about what they had seen and experienced while watching their flocks that night. Instead, they went WITH HASTE. 

How often do we sit and think a little more, marvelling, pondering, examining what we should do, ignoring the inner urging to GO. We all have stories of God’s wonderful timing and provision when we listen to that little inner voice that says “GO”. The right person met at the right time, the chance to make right, or to help someone, or be helped ourselves. 

Perhaps we should dare to GO a little more? That we might find! 

You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. – Jer 29:13

What is the one thing?

I find my heart singing tonight.
Singing of love, of hope, of love that never fails, never gives up, never runs out on me

Such confidence, such joy.
Such sweetness.
His love.

I may be sitting in a chair, but my heart is dancing in a meadow, swirling and whirling, flying in a rainbow of colours streaming ribbons of heart worship.

I run into the courtyard of my God. The wind plays with my skirt as I throw open the doors to the throne room, and run into His arms. One thing.

One thing remains.
His love.

I am so extravagantly loved!

Advent-uring with God: Where is he?

Wise men asked a king this question, and a whole city was greatly disturbed. “Where is the child born King of the Jews?” 

How often do we ask "where is he?" in our everyday lives. We travel so many kilometres each day, on foot or in a vehicle... Would that our hearts also ask "where is he" as we travel!

And He was in the smallest town, wrapped in strips of cloth, laid in a feeding rack for farm animals. We find Him today in humble places still.

What a King!

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  - Matthew 11:29

What is love?

Whew, I thought I knew about love. But it comes in lots of forms. How did Mother Theresa do it with a smile?

To those of you who wash out the wounds of the wounded, who wipe the faces of the poor, who walk the streets through the filth and flies... I salute you. You humble me. And all I am doing is washing someone else's sheets with a wrinkled up nose.

Advent-uring with God - words

Mary, I bring good news
The Spirit of God, an encounter with an angel
A life suddenly veered off the track
Words that would change a life forever to change history to change lives to change me and you

How often do we speak or deliver words that change a life?
Forever, veered onto a new track
Changing history, lives, he and she, them

Perhaps the words you speak bring news that is glad, sad or bad
Maybe they speak of the sword that pierces a soul
Yet the same sword saves future generations

Advent. A time of news. May the Spirit of the Living God be with us as we speak and share... and share the Good News. Mary. So young. May the grace of God carry our words, and make them words of hope. Of a future.

For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans to give you a hope, and a future. Jer 29:11

Awaken

Awaken my soul
To hunger, to see
To thirst
Awaken first love
Come away
Do as you did
First

Spirit of the living God, come fall afresh on me
Come wake me from my sleep
Blow through the caverns of my soul
Pour in me to overflow

Awaken my soul
To worship
With all your strength

Come and fill this place
Let your glory now invade

- Bethel Music

Amen.

O Ancient of days...

Builder of the new Jerusalem
Repairer of the broken walls
Of places with streets to dwell

Build again this city
Remove the rubble of generations
Restore the foundations and let us live
Free

Unfettered by our darkness and the past of our fathers and mothers
Alive in the light
Dancing in the dew of the morning
On our knees again
Before you

God of my heart, lover of my soul
O Ancient of Days
Restore and renew us, I pray

Dreams of heaven - my little girl meets Jesus

I've been praying for a while that my daughter would be awakened to God and to his love. I've yearned for her to visit the heavenlies and be forever changed, as I have.

Yesterday I anointed the doors of our home with oil and declared that God alone has authority within. I prayed for the Holy Spirit to come and fiil our home, and that nothing that is not of Him would be able to enter the premises.

The next morning, my husband called me from 1600 km away, to tell me that he loves me, standing on the exact paving stone in the church that we were married in. Our time of separation has been filled with small children, life and bronchitis; throughout the sense of my God's great love for us.

An hour later, my girl woke up and while getting dressed, told me of her visit to heaven. I paraphrase:
"Mommy, the angels came and took me to heaven. The angel gave me wings to fly. I liked flying. And I saw God. He was sitting on a throne - it was ganti-normous <big>. There was a rainbow around the throne. In front of it were a huge crowd of angels singing, in front of statues <are these the lampstands>. I met Jesus, he was white and wearing a white coat. He hugged me and told me he loved me. He talked to me about lots of things (a hundred things) and even about dinosaurs and the world and things. Gabriel the (boy) angel was with me and told me lots of things too, and about the fruit of the spirit. He also told me all about when mommy and daddy were married. And secrets, that only us girls <mommy and me> can share."

Blown away! Thank you Lord for visiting my girl like this. I see more of you in her today. More love, more patience, she lives loved. I love you.

Pouring

We are pouring, pouring out our lives again
Falling, splashing onto the hard dirt of this one life
We are calling, calling out to you anew
Reaching, stretching up to touch your heart

Just the hem of your garment God - heal our land
Such small faith Lord, but we cry out to you alone
Hear the sound of our lives
Upon the earth desiring only you
Only you, Jesus
Just you

Man of sorrows, crowned with glory, seated above
You know us, you heal our brokenness
Man of joy, standing to claim your Bride
May she be waiting for, rejoicing in, desiring only
You

<for we shall have no other gods before You> 

Stirrings

It's been quite a God-encounter week.

Tuesday
A client feedback session that left me wrung out from sharing and the awareness that I was a conduit for the Holy Spirit - such a strong and tender sense of his love for the ladies I was talking to.

Wednesday
Then a coffee date at my home on Wednesday with a young Asian believer who had not really met HS in any tangible way. We talked and laughed (and cried) and prayed. And when I told her that God can give languages and prayed for her in tongues, what a surge of God's presence at my kitchen table. The girl looked up at me with wide eyes. "It's power - I not feel this power like this. When you pray, it is so deep. I hear your spirit talking to God."

<O Lord God, fill her with that same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead! HS, you energise us and give us real life. Please visit my friend and fill her with your love and power. Set her free to love you in return!>

Thursday
I climbed into bed at about 10pm, tired from the day. Then I registered that there was a sound in the background; the kind of singing I have only heard when large groups of people sing in tongues together and worship without the aid of instruments. I asked my husband, who I was nestled into, if he could hear it too. "What music?" came the reply, so I listened again intently to make sure my ears were not playing up. The music and sound was still there, not very loud, but so distinctive. The sound of a great number of people worshiping. I fell asleep to it with a smile on my face.

Sunday
A picture in the prayer meeting before church: A Christ-follower (believer) who had arms upraised and heart free, worshiping God. But their legs were bound with big iron shackles. Then a silver shining sword, huge, stabbing downward and hitting the shackles and breaking them.
Turned out that the preach this morning was on the Holy Spirit. I felt that the interpretation was that the preaching of God's word would break those shackles.

As we ended the prayer meeting, I saw (but not physically) a line of angels coming over a saddle in the mountains just behind where we were meeting, wearing grey tunics and carrying swords. They lined up along the rim of the valley, holding their swords up, looking towards our church location in the forest.

During the worship we started to sing about the "new song of heaven, praise and glory and honour be to Him, the only true king" and I again saw the angels, but this time they laid down their swords, all pointing towards us, and they worshiped the Lamb about whom we were singing.

I then saw that above the tent was the same sword I had seen earlier, flashing, spinning and moving over the highest point of the tent, almost in a dance of light and power.

After the meeting I chatted to the worship leader and shared my picture with her. She started to jump in her excitement. On Saturday (yesterday) she had been praying and asking God to send His angels to come and worship with the church. And here I come, not knowing anything about her, and share my picture with her.

<Lord, I am so EXCITED about what you are doing! Please, may I be a part of it!>

Lastly, a caution
The preacher today spoke about the ending of the Feast of Tabernacles when the High Priest would fetch water and pour it over the altar, symbolising the water that came from the rock that Moses struck. I felt cautioned in my spirit and heart - do not strike the rock in your frustration to have things happen more quickly. If you do, you will, like Moses, see the promised land, but not inherit it. Ouch!

<Give me patience Lord, to rather intercede than shout out and strike the rock>

Once again?

I cry out for the prophets...
To emerge from their rest.
For those who have heard the Voice
To listen once again.

I call out to the wise
Harden not your hearts!
Can you hear the sound of waters?
'Tis rivers once again.

I shout aloud in anguish
WHY have we been silent?
Where have been our tears?
Weeping for revival once again.

<On spending time with a "young" believer, who heard tongues today for the first time, and did not know that You speak in dreams and visions, or that You heal and deliver today. What LITTLE we have been settling for!>

Spring time

It seems this springtime is blooming in every sense. My thought for this morning as I am diligent and working (when there are no doubt whales in the bay) is from Song of Songs 2: 10-13

"The voice of my Beloved says to me, Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away. For behold, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth and ripens her green figs, and the vines are in blossom and give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away."

I'm believing that after the violence of Lonmin mine and the turbulence stirring, that the promise is for the voice of the Holy Spirit in our land, a call to intimacy with Jesus, and fruit on our trees.

Even if there is rain forecast tomorrow morning!

So exciting. And precious. Spring...

SWEAT - Advocacy and Human Rights Defence Manager

Advocacy and Human Rights Defence Manager? Are you advocating on behalf of prostitution or on behalf of the workers???

Yes, ALL people have rights. No, prostitution should not be legalised!

Are you selling our women and children into slavery and degradation? What women would earn her money on her back if she had a viable option that provided enough money in another way? Really?

 PLEASE please don't open the doors to human trafficking, so closely linked to prostitution. Give the women their rights, their dignity, the chance for a life with family, home and men who honour them by treating them as precious, not as a possession.

Prostitution should not be honoured and legalised. Instead it should be condemned as the hammer which cracks our society and shatters those that are forced into it.

Search your hearts before you put this hammer into law. Please. Consider this as though you stood before a God who weeps for his precious daughters and sons who were made to be cherished, not pawed. But who live and survive the only way they can because WE are not standing with them and lifting them and saying no to this offence.

You would kill the life and laughter of the sons and daughters of Africa with this legislation.

Ref: ANC policy discussion document: legalise prostitution in SA

For the makers of music out there

Music man
Called to create, to flow, to bring forth

Music man
Hear ME calling you

By name

Son, you are mine.

I long for you
Not only to create but to rest
With Me
Talk to me, laugh with me, weep with me

You have heard my melodies
But, my dear much-loved Son
Come away with me again to our place

My heart yearns for you,
For the deep
I want my heart beat to be yours

For when it is
The sound will open windows
It will bring down walls

Your world with all it's noise and tunes and excitement
Will be stilled by the truth, the love and the power
Of my heart beat

Amplified

In you

And through you

My son.


<Why does it seem that the minstrels, the men called to write the songs of our day, the worshippers in spirit... why does it seem that these called ones are so assiduously sidetracked? Because the calling is noble? Or that there is an onslaught against these men - and women - who unleash the sounds of heaven bringing healing to earth? Oh God, we cry out to you that these minstrels would chase after You and not be distracted.>

What is this...

What is this thing that yearns in me?
That escapes, sometimes reluctantly
I think it's my spirit, calling to you
There's a hunger I cannot renew

I'm filled with things. With laughter and fun,
I am busy and fulfilled with my daughter and son
I've got a great job and lots to do
The end of the day comes too quickly anew

But when I stop between my work and play
And silence my heart to quickly pray
I find my spirit surging, prompting my soul
Calling to you to make me whole.

Jer 2:31 (paraphrased).  "My people have stopped drinking from me and have dug out broken wells to drink from."

Scatterlings

Who are the scatterlings
the children, the parents, the whites or the blacks, coloured, indian, asian or european

?

we wander through the lands
we cry out in the night and sometimes in the day
Wondering who and what we are
What we are meant for

-

O scatterlings - we are all children
seeking a father and to be heard
we cannot be our own saviour
search, search with me

!

Words

I write, and the words come so easily
But when I speak, do I speak life?

I type, and the keyboard creates my thoughts
Yet I speak, and thoughts scatter like broken pencil tips
Into the corners of my life
And words lie fallen on the ground
I wish unsaid.

"Guard your lips, for they are the wellspring of life"

San Diego, 11 Sept '96

Perhaps it's in our poetry, our scupture and our second hand communications that we will one day touch each other. The only other way is through the cross, and even then we don't touch each other, but it is Christ who touches us, and touches the "other" through us. A mute incomprehensible is all that otherwise remains, of creed, of language, of skin colour.

Why this is so I have no idea.

Blame it all on the rainbow. Then weep, and see the rainbow in your tears, falling to a hardened earth.

(I think this is mine. I found it in a notebook after reading Alan Paton's "Tales from a troubled land".)

O God of mountains

O God who created mountains
Shaped valleys with his hand
Watches dassies at their play
And yet sees all of life unfold

Your voice is in the cry of a newborn
In the playing of children
The sigh of a mother
The voice of a father

From the first breath to the last
The wind in the peaks to the ocean spray
I've found you in the scudding clouds,
The forests
The timid disas hidden near streams.

The mountains are your cathedral
The skies your glory
The stars your crown

And I - I have walked on the mountains
Seen you in their beauty and harshness
God of this amazing creation

I have loved finding

Endless places we've explored
Fires we've shared and stars we've counted
Through all of life and now to beyond

I hear a call to come higher up, and further in.

-----------
This poem was written for and is dedicated to John Freislich, lover of mountains, valleys and streams - died Sept 10, 2008. John died of a brain tumour about 2 months after I gave him this poem. He was a most amazing man and you can meet him at http://mybraintumour.blogspot.com/

Harassed mom

If I have to smack your bum

One more time, my little hum

I will lose it to the stars

‘cos you’re aiming at Jupiter and Mars...

Another whine, another yell

I simply cannot take the hell

Of “I don’t want it” or “No, not now”

When it’s simply easier to do it somehow.

The food is not poisoned, it’s actually quite nice

Even if you won’t taste the smallest slice

And then there’s demands for VID-E-ROES!

Sorry, my dears, you’re not being heroes.

‘Cos food must be finished and plates put in the sink

Don’t even THINK of raising a stink!

Rules IS rules in my house – sorry to say

When you obey, we all love to play.

(Well, mostly.This was one of those days in 2011.)

Rushing

Whirling madness
Craziness, busy-ness ...
Such a rush of galloping hooves
Demanding voices, clattering, clamouring, noising, shouting

And then you speak
And the silence touches my soul
Sparks alive my covered spirit
And life emerges from the ashes of my busy life

Your finger dusts the dirt
And life is cleansed

O God - may that which rises from the ashes
Be clean, be pure, be new
May it walk brave
Let it live true

K - 02/11/1998