My Psalm 123

Embrace by Mari Aaronsouth

Have mercy Lord on me your child. Daily I deal with judgement from the world. I need more of you, My King. Help me surrendar allowing a song to fill my heart. Close my eyes to the things that suround me and my focus to you, My King. As each notes plays to my soul I feel you draw near. Crawling into your lap and I am home. A treasured place in your arms on the throne, My King There I am simply your daughter filling up with the peace only you can bring. No more noise from the world only the beat of my heart as it slows to match Yours, my King. Give me a mission, send me out into Your Kingdom. Permit me to serve you. May I be your faithful servant. Eyes on you I am now ready, willing and relying on You, My King.

My Psalm 122

Let us go into the house of the Lord. A phase both bitter and sweet tell the tales of  my church past and present. From moments of heavenly praise on borrowed time to the whispers of my sin growing in the walls. But I stand at the gate resting on the promises in your city of peace. Lord, please carry me through the door and across the  threshold like Your bride. For I can not stay away any longer. Let me go into the house of the Lord. May I be the change I long to see in your house. May the peace I crave be set in motion with sound of my steps forward. May this city of your hurting children see your life within the bricks and plaster. I feel the rich history relived as each members shares past fellowship. I feel joy watching the games children play between the pews. I hear a sweet melody as mature laughter tangles with the giggles of youth. Life knitted with peace as we worship in your house . I rejoiced when they said to me, Let us go into the house of the Lord!

My Psalm 121

Two Egg Nest by Cari Humphry

I look around for help, who will be there?
My help does not come from the world but from the Lord,
the one who created the heaven and the earth.
He is a great and mighty God both full of power and gentleness.
He is not a cage in which you are kept but a nest where you make a home.
He knows where you are and where you will be and He never rests in His pursuit of you.
He will keep your feet moving at His tempo. The world can not touch you.
God will make sure His creation survives.

My Psalm 120

Lord I am alone and I long for you,
save me from my need to speak and from words that hurt.
You know my voice and see that my heart longs to heal,
but oh how the tounge gets twisted.
You can judge fully and quickly with a punishment we deserve.
Pity my weakness to stay put, my laziness to camp in a bitter place.
My vacation in routine is over.
I must walk in today even if those around me hold tight to yesterday.

The Psalms of Ascent

For the next few posts I will be sharing with you the words God has spoken to my heart through the Psalms of Ascent. I am participating in a bible study where we are looking into these 15 Psalms. (Psalm 120-Psalm 134) Each week we read the Psalm, examine each verse, ask questions, share things that stand out to us and finally pray about each one. In this prayer time we are to place ourselves in a humble position; either on our knees or face down on the floor. We can talk to God. We can sing to Him. We can be silent. Most importantly we are to listen to Him speak to us through each Psalm. The idea is to allow the words of the ancient text to come alive today in our hearts and speak into our lives the words God desires to share. So please enjoy how these Psalms of Ascent speak to me, walking faithfully.

Woman Behold thy Son.

There is something about a mom. For me my mom has been an honest sounding board, a shoulder to cry on and my number one fan. She took care of me before she could hold me in her arms.  She doctored my cuts and bruises growing up. In my teens and early 20’s I am sure she prayed for a manual or a return policy! There were days I thought she was a nosey nag, an old fashioned Sandra Dee and she did not understand me at all. But, regardless of how we have felt for each other on any given day I could not give her away. Our families belong to us; good or bad. Here in John chapter 19 verse 26 and 27 Jesus is transforming Mary’s maternal relationship.

Suffering His last hours nailed to a cross Jesus could not bear the thought of His mother being left widowed and alone. This was the woman who had such strong faith she carried God’s child and cared from Him until His time came to do the Father’s will. In Jesus’ words to Mary, His mother and John, the disciple He loved; the two were set apart and offered to each other. Behold your son. Before today he was simply a disciple, see him differently now. Behold your mother. Before today she was my mother but now you are to honor her in my name as if she was your own. They were joined together, a new family.   At the foot of the cross the Savior was extending the family as we understand it from mere physical mother and son to a spiritual relationship. 

But there was something else happening in that very same moment. Something Mary, John, nor even we could see. But Jesus saw it. He knew with those very words he also spoke healing into another woman’s heart and transformed her shattered motherhood.

Five years ago in the seventh pew on the left at an Ash Wednesday Service I walked the Via Dolorosa with my Savior. Every last thing I had done and left undone; all I had said and left unsaid I saw nailed to that tree. How could this man freely endure my penalty? How could I watch the pain my life had lead Him to bear? Deep into every pore of my rigid heart I felt the pain and anguish He suffered because of me. He endured all those years of my repeated disappointing choices. Every drop of blood on His body, each bead of sweat on His brow represented a point on the map of my sinful past. Yet as they rolled down His beaten face and puddled on the dusty ground my past was wiped clean, erased.

At the cross all those generations ago and a few years ago within these walls Jesus transformed my aborted motherhood. Thinking of the daughter He adored with abundant and unworthy forgiveness He suffered my sins to reconcile the brokenness in my life.  My failed maternal relationship was recognized, presented to my heart and the difficult healing process took its first baby steps.  Woman, behold your son. I had to become acquainted with the life He created and I ended in my womb. Son, behold your mother.  I had a son who will honor me one day in heaven, as his mother. We were joined together, a new family.   On the cross my Savior was extending the family from a mere physical mother and son to a spiritual healed and whole relationship.  What I had fractured into a million pieces with my selfish decision Jesus gathered up in His nail pierced hands and fashioned mercy, grace  and forgiveness from soot and ashes.

I tell you tonight Jesus longs to do that very same thing for you. He cries out on the cross for you to behold your sin in the light of His love and sacrifice. He longs to wash you of all the dirt and grime sin leaves behind and make your face radiant with His light. It does not matter what you have done or how unloved you think you are today. He desires to lift your head and speak, Behold my child your new family. So what now? Do we attempt to pick back up all the wounds and pain, thumbing our nose at His gift? Do we insist we have control of our lives? Do we think we can do a better job? Do we refuse to see the pain our sin has produced on the cross? How do we begin to say thank you?

I was able to share this message God gave me on the recent Good Friday Service. We had a very moving service where seven of us shared our thoughts on the seven final phrases uttered by Jesus on the cross. I continue to be amazed at how He uses the missteps I have made to sing of the glory He can bring to others lives. I hope this simply begins my Thank you not to Him.

God cut in.

During the past few weeks I have been involved in a Beth Moore bible study on the book of James, Mercy Triumphs. Any of you who have taken a Beth Moore study before know that she has a way of speaking the truth of God’s word while confronting you with your issues. Well, today that moment happened for me in a room with a few ladies I know and a few I am learning to know.
In the book of James, the half brother of Jesus, is teaching us the black and white of God’s word. The opening verses of this book tell us to consider it joy when we face trials of many kinds. The joy James mentions is not the warm fuzzy we often feel from a good mood or a sunny day, but it is biblical joy which is attached to an event in our lives or sometimes a trial. It may seem hard for us to understand but anguish and joy are close friends and often chase each other around, on the playground.
As Beth explained the relationship of anguish and joy on her video she laid out five ways these kissing cousins were related. One being that anguish and joy can coexist. The second point was that anguish and joy can trade places. The third was that anguish can morph into joy. Fourth was mental anguish can be like the mind in labor. Lastly was that anguish is meant to lead to birth. In the discussion of all these points it was the last two that churned my stomach from a calm empty to a tangled knotted mess. The best way to explain about those last two points with women is child birth. How they felt in the anguish of the act of birth to the joy of the life they will now nurture. All the women in the room were chuckling and nodding their heads in agreement, all that is but one. I sat blank because I could not identify with the example. I understand the anguish angle now, it was all I could pin point.
If you have read my blog before you know that I am a post-abortive woman. What you may not know is that I have never had an earthly child. The class went on but a conversation was taking place in my mind between the devil and my past. He invited me to run from church yet again, like I did 19 years ago. He stated that I would never fit in with these “mothers”. We wrapped up the group in prayer but I felt so far from God. All I could hear was the unhurried tick of the wall clock and that voice of the evil one. I believed moments ago in the truth of God’s word. I understood that we will face many trials and that the joy from the Lord can follow when we lean on Him and persevere. Three years ago I lived the words in Isaiah 61:1-3. I had emerged from the ashes of my past to the radiance of a daughter of the King. Now none of that seemed important. All I could hear and taste was the absent place of my womanhood.
I turned to leave displaying a counterfeit smile. A dear mentor called my name and I turned hoping for a church related question which would allow my mind to shift to a pleasant distraction. However, she said, "I am so sorry, I can not even begin to imagine how difficult that lesson must have been for you." I  answered her with the truth we were just taught with such authority, that my heart began to open.
I got into my car and left. Looking up at the red-light, I begged God to come near to His aching child. Perched there above my head on a power line in downtown Crawfordville were three birds. The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit in winged form. My heart melted a into a smile. I could hear the song from my car speakers, “So we are His portion and He is our prize, drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes. If grace is an ocean we're all sinking. So heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss and my heart turns violently inside of my chest. I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way. That he loves us, woah, how He loves us.” My heart melted a little more. At the bend of a nearby curve circling over my head was a flock of birds dancing with each other seeing who could soar higher. Joy filled my heart and the devil went away.
As the devil drug me out on the floor; God cut in with shame and joy in harmony. I may not understand the birthing process but one thing I do understand is that I refuse to allow the devil to steer me backwards. Anguish does lead to birth! That Sunday afternoon the devil never got comfortable. With hands raised in praise, I gathered even more joy and passion to share God with others. I no longer have time for regret.  His mercy created in me a passionate ministry.