he is greater than the grave

[via]

She ran, the tears coursing down her cheeks, the silent sobs racking her soul. The gentle light of dawn lit the path before her, painting the ground ahead of her with soft amber hues. So it was over. He was gone. Dead. She had watched him die with her own eyes; the blood streaming from his hands and feet where the wicked nails pierced them, the crown of thorns shoved cruelly into his brow.

He had hung there, hour after hour, above the mocking crowds and mourning followers. And His eyes! They had only ever been filled with love, understanding, forgiveness, sorrow--even as the jeers filled the air around His cross.

Until they went lifeless.  For now her Lord was dead.

She had believed He was the One--she still knew He was, no matter what it looked like now.  Yet she had seen them take His body down; seen the soldiers bear it away, bruised and limp. She had wrapped Him in clean white linen alongside the other women, anointed it with spices...yes, He was  gone. Dead. She had watched Him die. 

Now, here she was, hurrying along the path to the tomb where she had left Him. The Sabbath was over; it was time to finish the burial. A bundle of anointing herbs and spices was clutched to her chest, spilling fragrance. The tomb was just ahead.

The trees parted, and there it was. She slowed. The soldiers would be here, stiff and glowering. The huge stone would be there, blocking the cave. Guarding the grave of a dead man. Thinking about it, she almost laughed. Were they really so afraid that--She stopped short. Oh, no. It couldn't be.


The tomb. It was open. The soldiers, gone.

Now she was dropping her bundle, running to the tomb; into the dim coolness of the cave, around the corner to where the body would be--no! Yes! It was gone!--then out again into the bright sunshine, searching in utter despair.

She sank to the ground and wept. They had already taken His life away, could they not leave His body?

A man was coming towards her, and she lifted her tear-stained face. Her vision was blurred, and she tried to wipe her eyes.

"Woman, why do you weep?"

"Oh--oh, sir--"

She was stuttering, barely able to speak. She could not even lift her head.

"Sir, someone has taken the body of my Lord, and I do not know where to find Him."

There was a silence for a split second, and then,

"Mary. "

She lifted her face, and her eyes cleared.

"Rabbi!"

He had risen. Oh, why had she doubted? For He was greater than the grave!

Happy Easter, friends. He rose, He is risen--and He lives. Rejoice! 

dear little girl,

dear little girl who hates her mirror,

you're perfect just the way you are. cliche, I know, but true. you're beautiful, and people smile when they see you smile. Don't forget just who you are.

dear little girl whose only dream is size zero jeans,

skinny is over-rated. Healthy isn't skin-and-bones. If you don't accept yourself now, you never will, no matter your size. You are God's masterpiece. Remember that.

dear little girl who is afraid to love again,

there is a Guy who won't break your heart; who will hold you close and won't let you fall; who will never deceive or use you. Find Him, and you will find healing.

dear little girl who grew up too soon,

life has been tough on you, babe. But chin up--people love you. And so does God.

dear little girl who feels alone,

everyone does sometimes. But it doesn't have to last. You'll never be alone as long as you have Jesus.

dear little girl who thinks she's reached a dead end,

back up. Turn around. And hope; pray.

"There may not be an open door, but there is always an open window."


dear little girl who just needs a hug,

here's one.

look around. do you see the people suffering? ordinary girls, ordinary lives; hurting hearts. hidden wounds. struggling souls. forget yourself, and reach out. I dare you. 

and so, i forgive.

My heart beats wildly. I choke back a sob. I bite back angry words that rise to my lips. I just want to get away--get away from this suffocation, this madness; get away somewhere quiet where I can be alone with my sadness. It is something so small, and yet it has pricked me like a poisoned sword and unleashed my anger. 


I feel hot passion coursing through my veins, and I remember what it is—who it is—who has angered me. I cringe at the thought of their face, I imagine their voice, high and mocking, and it surrounds me. The noise of the house only makes it worse—oh, where is somewhere quiet? Why can’t they let me be? Why do I hate them so? I rush to my closet and pull the door shut, breathing heavily. Alone at last, yet—still that hateful face appears in my mind’s eye, the mouth scorning and smug. I despise it, how it has hurt me. And I whisper that I do.

Yet slowly, the rage melts away, as cool silence envelopes me. I lift my tear stained face from my lap and hear a still, small voice. “My daughter,” it says, so tenderly, so patiently. “My daughter, forgive as I have forgiven you.” The voice is silent, mild, yet it is slowly drowning out the mocking voice that still echoes within me. “Have not you seen my cross?”

I sit for a moment—or perhaps an hour, perhaps a year. Can I forgive? Can I forget? Not alone—oh, never alone. But slowly, without uttering a word, I give it up. I feel His strength within me, able to give me all that I need to let it go. And oh! My hurt is gone, the echo fades; He leads my hate gently away and gives me the peace of forgiveness.

Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. 

(Colossians 3:13)

backseat driver.

 

Backseat driver. You know what those are, right? Yeah. The annoying (and most often license-less) personage who is best known for phrases such as, “go!” “turn!” “hurry up!” and “STOP!” 


All from the backseat of the car, a good six feet from the wheel. Never been guilty? Think again. 


Sometimes, life feels exactly like New York City in the middle of rush hour. Everyone rushing this way and that, horns honking impatiently at me as I lumber along, lost and bewildered and just wanting to get home. I'm hustled and jostled along with a sea of frenzied traffic, and then--all of a sudden, just as I thought I was getting somewhere, life comes to a halt like a red light blocking my path. 


 Sigh. Why does life always do that? Deceive us and disappoint me, I mean? And why are people always honking their horns at me when they can see I’m just as stuck as they are? And where did I take a wrong turn? And why am I here when I’m supposed to be…there? 


 Wait. Hit pause. Um, okay, that’s easy to do—I'm not going anywhere right now, anyways.

 

 Something tells me that I'm forgetting the true purpose of my time here, on this earth, in my little corner of the universe. I have been so busy trying to read the map myself and pretend I know exactly where I’m going that I’ve begun to miss the whole point of this road trip called life. And guess what, Lucia: it’s because you were never intended to be the driver in the first place. 


 Uh-oh. Here stands a backseat driver, guilty as charged. And I had pledged never to be one. 

 

Friends, life is short. You know that, and I know that, but just the same, we take it for granted. And we make mistakes. Why? Because we try to drive ourselves through the maze of people and places and feelings and heartaches and heartbreaks, not knowing what we’re doing and becoming just as dangerous as a four-year-old driving a bronco. The halt in life that we merely passed off as a “red light” is really us overturned in a ditch. 


 So? What now? Simple. We can sit in the car with the airbags in our face, screaming and squirming and trying to figure out how we'll get out alive this time, or we can be still and know that He is God. We can put the mangled wheel in His hands, and let Him lift us free. 


 Jesus, drive this car, because I’m going nowhere without You. This backseat driver just let go of the wheel.

// all photos via pinterest // 

finding fault--where you least expect it.

Sometime near the end of my first year as a homeschooled child (I attended a private school through kindergarten), I discovered that homeschooling and tiny private schools were not the only way of education. Through the proclaiming wisdom of one little friend or another, I became in the know about "those yucky public schooled kids," and several proven "facts": all public schoolers hate homework, never study, make fun of the teachers, pass notes every minute, spend two hundred dollars a day on new fashion accessories, and worst of all, pick on lonely kids. Back when I was so "in the know" about public schoolers and their detestable follies, the one "fact" that struck me as unforgivable was this one.

I have always hated seeing someone left out. Especially if it's someone who is quite a bit different from the rest of the crowd--maybe the girl at the party who is last chosen in the game because everyone knows she is terrible at soccer, maybe the boy at camp whom no one wants to sit by because of his squeaky voice and chatter about Bionicles. In my younger, oblivious days which were mentioned above, I would literally day dream about attending public school and being the "rescuer" for every lonely kid that was being picked on. I imagined interrupting the barbie doll blond bullying the trembling math whiz, saying something smart, and whisking the victim off to safety. I could see myself clearly--the champion of the outcasts, the teacher's favorite who stopped hallway fights and always did her homework.

And then...I grew up. My eyes were opened, and I realized how silly I was being, even though my heart was in the right place. I truly did want to diminish loneliness in the world...but I finally realized that the "yucky public schoolers" were few and far between, and actually, for every percent of meanies in a public school crowd, there was destined to be a matching number in the homeschool circle. This was truly fact--for I myself witnessed it, as time went on. I met amazing public schoolers, but also ones whom I would rather not spend five minutes with. I developed my friendships with dear homeschooled friends, but discovered at the same time a few who could be defined as"under-cover bullies--"downright mean boys and girls who were forming cliques right in my homeschooling community. And I realized something else: all along, despite my righteous intentions, I had been no better than the trembling math whiz's blond bully.

..Looking back at my past actions, and even thoughts, I could see that there had been countless times where I had been exclusive--maybe not so much in action, but being reluctant within about including someone who wasn't the most enjoyable personage, or wanting to be with my little circle of friends instead of reaching out and forming strong friendships with "different" people.

You see, there are cliques everywhere you go. At the tender age of seven, I believed that public schoolers were the only ones capable of exclusion. I had a lot to learn. There is a wonderful, yet pricking :) Bible verse which warns us against pointing fingers:

"You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye."

(Matthew 7:5)

...this is one that has been so hard for me to grasp, and apply to my own life. So many times I find myself judging and getting mad at people who leave me out and act as though I am not worthy of their friendship. I dwell on their faults, their cruelty, and don't stop to consider whether I have always been inclusive, friendly, and genuinely glad to be seen with someone who everyone else turns up their noses at.

It's funny. This post was originally going to be entitled,"You Can't Always Be Popular." It was going to cover in great detail all of the aspects of getting left out--how in the coming years you will see friends come and go for no reason, how you need to get used to people constantly deciding they don't want to be friends, etc. I can just see myself ranting and raving about people who have hurt my feelings, hated me for no reason, etc...but, for some reason, as I began typing, the LORD gave me better words to write.

As I erase the original title, now, and put something more suiting in its place, I am coming to the realization that this post was not for you--it was for me. You, my friends, are merely listening in as my Father teaches me, even through my little blog post on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

beware of perfection.

"It's inside beauty that counts."

" Pretty isn't everything."

"Stop trying to be perfect."

You've heard this same old story before--dozens of times, no doubt. The three sentences that ring true yet quietly within a world like our's. "Pretty" is everything in this Kingdom...and if we're really honest with ourselves, it's a large part of our own lives, as well. I mean, come on. We're girls. We want to be gorgeous. We want to be slender, blonde beauty queens with large eyes and perfect hair.

 We want to be perfect.

I was playing around on Picnik today, using the upgraded features in a sneaky way {hint: snipping tool}. :) Hehe. I experimented with the airbrush, the wrinkle remover, the highlighter, the mascasra, the eye bright, the blemish fix, the teeth whitener...

The result? 

A perfect me.

..Or, at least, as "perfect" as I could get. I mean, compare to this, the ordinary me:

...Uh-huh.

::sigh::

Okay, I'll admit it: I wish that first photo were me, and not the second. The more I stare at it, the more my desire grows for a face without under-eye-shadows and bags, no moles, darker and thicker eyelashes, lighter hair, smooth skin, a perfect complexion, brilliantly white teeth, and sparkling eyes. Okay..maybe not *as* fake-looking as the dolled-up picture...but..somewhat similar. I mean, what more could a girl want?

Perfection is dangerous. Know why? Because there never will be true perfection. Even if I really looked like the fake girl in my touched-up picture, I would still want more: longer hair, slimmer waist, bigger eyes.

Just as Death and Destruction are never satisfied, so human desire is never satisfied.

(Proverbs 27:20)

I need to stop dwelling on "I wish..", and embrace how God has made me: totally unique and owning a face of beautiful imperfection. Will I still want what that other girl has? Yes. Will I still feel that twinge of jealously every time I see some prettier than me? Yes. But prayer changes things, and I know that if I bring my trials to the Lord, He is ready and willing to open my eyes and change my heart.

If you take anything away from this post, let it be this:

Pretty is everything to the World, and always will be. But you don't have to let the quest for perfection overcome you. Seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and everything else will soon become hazy and distant.

On a minor note, take my Picnik-ed photo into account the next time you see a celebrity photo. Isn't it crazy what they can do with editing, nowadays? :)

Beware of perfection.

P.S. To my commenters: aww, thank you, y'all. You shore do know how to make a gal feel good. ;) And you know what? Now that I think about it..I like the second picture better, too. :]

I Gave You All I Had, and You Tossed It in the Trash...

..Recognize those words? You may or may not, but just FYI, they are some of the lyrics from a popular secular song called "Grenade," by Bruno Mars. Basically, I believe it is about a guy who claims his girlfriend would never do anything for him, though he would "catch a grenade for her, jump in front of a train for her, put his head on the blade for her.." etc., etc., etc.

Yeah. Kind of pointless--I mean, isn't the guy supposed to be the brave knight in shining armor, anyways? ;) And what in the world is he even doing with a girl that apparently doesn't love him back?

:)

..Hehe. Yeah. You're probably wondering why I'm even posting about a song I don't get and think is rather silly. Well, this post isn't really about the song, though the song did inspire me. You see, I hear it all the time in the stores, and, as it is a catchy and simple tune, it likes to pop into my head at times. :/ Especially one line--the one you read in this post's title:

I gave you all I had, and you tossed it in the trash,
You tossed it in the trash
You tossed it in the trash...

..I got to thinking about that line, and what it meant. How true it rings for so many teens today. I mean, listening to those words, instead of picturing a guy mad at his girlfriend for being unloving, I see a girl, sitting all alone...exactly like the above picture. ^^ Staring out the window, her heart torn in two. Just a few days ago she thought she was loved, she thought this guy loved her, so she gave him everything. Her whole heart, her emotions, her body.

And now, just like the wind, he's gone--and all she has is her broken heart.

I gave you all I had, and you tossed it in the trash...

Yeah, I can make myself cry if I think about this too long. Because I know that this is exactly what has happened to so many girls out there--they want to "go with the flow," do it all, have it all, "be in love" with this guy...but then, all too soon, it's gone. And they're left with nothing but harsh memories. Not saying this is always the case, but I just started thinking about how often it is the case with today's world--in a time of "summer boyfriends," and "winter boyfriends," and ten-year-old first kisses.

Seriously, people, is this what we really want? What is going on with this earth?

It's more than sad. We should be crying for our world. And more than that, praying.

I gave you all I had, and you tossed it in the trash..

Don't be one of them, friends. Don't be the girl sitting at the window, whispering these words as the rain pours down. Don't give everything you have away, until you're certain it won't be tossed in the trash. Keep hold of your heart firmly, and stay safe in His arms.

♥

---------------------------------------------------------------------

I know this is sort of a serious post, but I had this on my heart and wanted to share. Bear with me. Love y'all!

I'm Still Alive {I Think}!

Well, I'm still here. Flesh and bones, alive and breathing. As much as I would enjoy being in Heaven right now, I am pleased with the present circumstances, though saddened and moved for the countless people who believed Mr. Harold Camping, and spent every penny. Gave up their jobs, homes, educations.

Have lost a grip on their faith because of this tragic lie.

Most of all, I feel for Mr. Camping himself. This wasn't a hoax he was trying to make others believe, he truly believed it. He is bewildered, and probably terrified. Also, he is not man enough to admit his mistake, and is now hiding out with all the blinds drawn and the doors locked, unable to face the mocking, weeping world that he has so impacted.

Poor Mr. Camping. Oh, Lord, reach him. Show him at last who you truly are--not One to be calculated, or played with, but One of mercy, forgiveness, and understanding of our human errors. ♥

..On the bright side, at 6:00 p.m. last night the world was still here, and I was on my way to the Count of Monte Cristo Ball. Many good things happened there, which I will post about {with pictures!} when the time is found. Many good people were met, as well, including the dear Miss Anna, Miss Michaela, Miss Eyebright, and Miss Hadley. ♥ More on that, upon a future date.

Also on the bright side, to my immense delight, I found that I was nominated to recieve the:



..if it were up to me, I would certainly not be "Blogger of the Month," but as it is I am secretly very thrilled. It is the first such award I have recieved, and I am full of thankfulness for the fact that my little blog has been a blessing to even one person out there...this is my ultimate goal. ♥

Thank you, Mary, for this sweet award~~ladies, visit her tremendously cute blog while you're at it. You won't be sorry! :)

I know this post should be all about the ball, but I simply have limited time at the moment, and wanted to cover these little topics first. I will be back, friends...in the meanwhile, have a blessed Sunday evening.

Fanny Crosby and Paul the Apostle will have to wait, but thank you LORD, I don't have to wait to be with Jesus. ;) ♥

Lord's Day Blessing~



Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way. The Lord be with all of you.

(2 Thessalonians 3:16)

Image: "In The Garden" by Fredericke Childe

Cleaning Toilets...Praising God?

It's Saturday. And if you're a normal family, you know what Saturday means: the special chores. Vacuuming, dusting, mopping, garage cleaning, and, the best of the best--toilets.

I have been cleaning the toilets in our home since I was old enough to hold a rag. With all that experiance, I really don't mind the job...I mean, someone has to do it, right? But there are times when I feel like complaining. Why do I have to clean the toilets, of all things? Can't I be the mopper? The duster? Anything other than my current station?

I was reading my Bible this morning in 1st Corinthians, just dreading getting out of bed to do the usual chore. My eye fell upon this verse:

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.

(1 Corinthians 10:31)

I stared at it for a moment, and felt quite guilty. I hadn't ever actually complained out loud about cleaning toilets, but in my heart I was being rebellious. And to make it worse--I had just been contemplating the idea that I needed to get "out there" and do more for the Kingdom. Help the World. To get me back on track, the Lord decided to show me that He wants me to serve right here in my home...right now. Cleaning toilets for all I am worth. 

We can't shine the kind of Light we want to the World until we respond to our callings within our homes, among our family members. God showed me that today, and I intend to make up for my past hardened heart.

By scrubbing the toilets even harder today. :) 

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not...

"He loves me, he loves me not...he loves me, he loves me not..he loves me.."

Human love can keep you guessing. At least, in its beginning stages. How many nervous young ladies have plucked at a flower's petals or counted an apple's seeds, desperate to find out whether their "beloved" returns their affections?

I remember reading a book as a child in which one of the characters plays the "He Loves Me" game for fun. I thought it was quite a silly idea~~being at the age where boys were playmates and not subjects for romantic feelings~~but nevertheless, I determined to try it. With no one specific in mind, I skipped out of doors and pulled a daisy from the garden, then proceeded to pluck its petals one by one, mimicking the lines I had read:

 "He loves me, he loves me not..."

Much to my dismay, by the last petal it was determined that whoever "he" might be, I was unfortunatley unloved. Not to be disappointed, I took up another daisy and went at it again.

"He loves me, he loves me not..."

Ah! With some triumph, I plucked the last petal as the words, "He loves me" were spoken. This time, I was satisfied. Feeling assured that I was destined for a happily-ever-after future, I returned to my book.

~~

..Have you ever been unsure of someone's love? Was there a time when you have wished for a flower to determine where their affections lay? Perhaps it wasn't 'romantically' as of yet...but, nonetheless, love had you confused. Unsure. Ready to pluck at a petal to just be assured of something--anything!

The world likes to twist up the definition of 'love' to make it look either cheap, fairy-tale-perfect...though even this is quite capable of slipping away at the mere stroke of midnight. This, my friends, is human love, and what is expected of it.

Aren't you glad that as sons and daughters of our King, we can fully expect to not be left in bewilderment when it comes to His love, or any other that He may have in our present and future? We don't have to 'pluck petals' with God. It isn't,

"He Loves me, He loves me not.."

..with our Lord. It is simply,

"He loves me, He loves me, He loves me..."

..on and on, forever and ever.


~Above image found via this site~

Why Do You Seek the Living..Among the Dead?



He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise.”

(Luke 24: 5-7)

There will be no giveaway posted today, in honor of Resurrection Day.

By His Wounds...



{Via}

And He Himself bore our sins in His body on the cross, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness; for by His wounds you were healed."

(1 Peter 2:24)

Friends, let us remember Him this "Good Friday."

Insecurities: Leave them on the Cross!

{via}

Girls are full of insecurities. That's just the way we are. We're self-consious about our looks, our bodies, our performances...the list could go on. We think we're overweight, so we starve ourselves and end up as an unhealthy bag of bones, depressed and confused. We think we're not beautiful, so we pile on the make-up and straighten our hair and get plastic surgeries until we {think} we look acceptable.

This isn't at all how God intended for we, His beloved daughters, to be.

...Do you remember, way back in Genesis, when Adam was lonely? God, in His loving kindness, provided Eve to be the perfect partner Adam was in need of. With great awe and wonder, the Man exclaimed,

"This [is] now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man."

 {Genesis 2:23}

..Or, in other words: :)

"Oh. My. Goodness. She's...gorgeous! I can't believe it..."

What do you think Eve looked like? She may have been very beautiful. In fact, I am certain she was very beautiful, because she was God's perfect creation. But, she may have not been considered "gorgeous" by today's standards. Who knows? Nevertheless, Adam thought she was wonderful, and so did her Maker. And if God thinks something is "very good," then you better believe it is! ;)

What does that say about us? Well, we, too, are made in the image of God. Of course, sin entering the world has made it possible for us to become unhealthy and sick, so it is our job to take care of the "Temple" the LORD has entrusted us with as best we can. Still, through Christ's work on the cross, we are seen as flawless beings. Straight hair, curly hair, large nose, small nose...we are equal beauties in His sight. And through Christ's work on the cross, our insecurities don't have to be a burden anymore.

What are your insecurities? Your face? Your hair? Your voice? Stop fretting about them and leave the thing that plagues you, because it's not perfect, on the cross. Chances are it's flawless in God's sight! :)

LORD's Day...

I come to the garden alone,

While the dew is still on the roses

  

And the voice I hear falling on my ear

The Son of God discloses...

                             

And He walks with me, and He talks with me,

And He tells me I am His own!

And the joy we share, as we tarry there

None other has ever known!

  

~Happy Sunday, dear friends! May the Lord bless you on this, His day.~

::Song: "In the Garden," by Austin C. Miles::


{By the way,  and AMAZING GIVEAWAY is going on over at "The Twinners Reviews and Giveaways!" If you are a photographer in need of a camera, click here...}

What Song Do You Sing?

...You're just gonna stand there and watch me cry?
Well that's alright because I like the way you lie...

Do you ever write songs?

..Just, you know, to write them?

You know they're terrible, you know you could never make anything off of them, and you would die before showing them to anyone, but they reflect what your heart is singing, and so, you write them.

If this is the case, then you are a songwriter. Just like me. :) I've written a few songs in my liftetime--mostly in the form of poems which I have yet to set to music, but nevertheless, they are songs.

Most people write songs about heartbreaks and boyfriends and being dumped and oh-I-hate-you-so-much stuff. The above lyrics are from that type of song--*"I Like the Way You Lie."* (Please see disclaimer below...I do not endorse this song!) 

Why?

Well, sometimes, it's tempting to want to pour all of your "grouchyness" out onto a sheet of paper. It makes you feel good to spill out the things that have gone wrong, the things that you are fuming about, the people you aren't feeling kindly toward at the moment. :) Afterall, that's how most of the big singers make their money--by complaining through their lyrics. It's what we want to hear, because somehow, knowing that another person is going through exactly the same things as us makes us feel better.

If you write songs and poetry and all that good stuff, and find yourself pouring self-pity into your works, I have a suggestion to make:

Why not write about Jesus, and the heartbreaks He's fixed within you?


*Note on the lyrics used at the beginning of the post: I do not in any way endorse this song, I simply heard the chorus awhile back and have no idea if it's an "okay" song or not. My guess is that it isn't--I just used it to illustrate the point.*

Be Still and Know...

Have you ever stopped what you were doing, just for a moment, and breathed in the quietness?

~*~

...Your surroundings might still be busy, a crowd might be surging past you, clamoring and shouting.

But you, you are still, you are silent.

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to go to the mountains with a part of my family and some friends for a skiing/snowboarding trip. We are blessed to live only about two hours from "the slopes," so we go as often as possible with our five-time night pass.

It was our last run of the night. There were very few people still out, and we just managed to clamber on to the final lift.

The night was clear, but a few small snowflakes were gracing my cheeks as the steady purr of the lift's motor began.

About half-way up, the lift suddenly halted--someone had most likely taken a spill getting on or off, and all was postponed as they struggled to their feet.

It was calm. Beautiful.

Breathtakingly silent.

It was just me in the moment of tranquil, listening to the little voice inside of me that whispered,

"Be still and know that I am God."

Pause for a moment, my friends, in the midst of your daily busyness, and listen.


{Via}

here i am, there they are..{pray for japan}

here i am, sitting cozily at the laptop upon our large green sofa.

there she is, lost in a street of rubble, crying and alone without her mother.

here i am, watching the rain splatter on the window panes, feeling calm and cozy within our heated home.

there he is, struggling in the water, desperate for help as a lone survivor.

here i am, frustrated at the low internet connection.

there they are, standing in a forlorn circle around the bodies of their family.

how spoiled i am.

how desperate they are

for help in this time,

and

for God.

::pray for japan. pray for this world.::

"I will never leave you or forsake you."

{Hebrews 13:5}

A Slap in the Face?

{Via}

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well."

{ Matthew 5:38-40}

Today I just felt led to post on a subject that most bloggers don't post about. Not that it's forbidden or horrible or anything, I guess no one really thinks to start typing out a sermon, that's all! ;)

Don't worry, that's not where I'm heading. I was just thinking.

And thinking gets me to wanting to write it all down.

And writing it all down gets me to wanting to share it with the world.

..And what better way to 'share it with the world' than to blog it?

Have you ever been slapped? No, I don't mean literally slapped, as in a "right-in-your-face-stinging" slap..though that is a possiblity too.

Have you ever been slapped?

Brutally, sharply, nails-grating-across-a-chalk-board words that are thrown in your face and hit you like cold water. Or simply a cold attittude from someone whom you get the "hate" attitude from. A cold e-mail. A hurtful blog comment. A distant friend.

..It's no fun, is it? I have recieved my fair share of cold shoulders, or "slaps," and while I know what the Lord says to do when we are provoked, everything inside of me screams insults and "slaps" back. Some people are better at "slapping" than others, too, I've learned. Which makes things all the more precarious.

What to do, what to do? As children of God, we obviously should not respond to slaps and stings with more of the same. Here are a few things that help me to stay on the right track:

First and foremost, cry out to God.

He will honor your wish to follow His words, and will give you the strength you need! 

Count to ten.

Old news, I know. But really, it does help. It's amazing how much calmer you are ten seconds after you recieve a cool remark or open up a sharp e-mail than you would have been had you responded right at your first impulse.

Truly strive to "turn the other cheek."

It's easy to read these words, or think you are going to obey, but when you really stop to think about what it means, it hits you.  

Love unconditionally.

Maybe the slap wasn't really a slap. Or it was, but it was a bad day for someone. Forgive and forget, and never hold grudges. :)

 Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who hurt you.

{Luke 6:28}

I'm in My Own Little World

This song recently came out, by Christian singer/songwriter Matthew West. I really like his music, and this is one of my favorite songs so far...it just really strikes me how true this can be of all of us! Read the words, listen to the music, and ponder, dear friends. Are we stuck in "our own little worlds?"

~My Own Little World~

by Matthew West

In my own little world it hardly ever rains

I’ve never gone hungry, always felt safe

I got some money in my pocket, shoes on my feet

In my own little world

Population me

I try to stay awake through Sunday morning church

I throw a twenty in the plate but I never give ’til it hurts

And I turn off the news when I don’t like what I see

It’s easy to do when it’s

Population me

(Chorus)What if there’s a bigger picture

what if I’m missing out

What if there’s a greater purpose

I could be living right now

Outside my own little world.

Stopped at the red light, looked out my window

I saw a cardboard sign said “Help this homeless widow”

Just above that sign was the face of a human

I thought to myself, “God, what have I been doing?”

So I rolled down the window and I looked her in the eye

Oh how many times have I just passed her by

I gave her some money then I drove on through

In my own little world there’s

Population two...

(Chorus)

I don't wanna miss what matters

I wanna be reachin' out

Show me the greater purpose

So I can start livin' right now

Outside my own little world,
My own little world.

LORD, forgive us for staying in our comfort zones, and failing to truly reach out.

Blessings,

::Lucia::