Hope

Perhaps hope is a choice – not the choice for it’s existence, but a choice to hold it close within your arms. Perhaps hope can come when and if we want it, at any certain height or depth we welcome it. Pain is real, but hope came first. Pain has the ability to make hope seem so far that we question it’s truth, but nothing can possibly eliminate the One who has always been.

Like a solemn stroll upon a quiet beach underneath a sparkling morning sky, hope is a paradise. Not a paradise we see on the television and paper ads, with only a distant dream to be there yourself; it is a paradise that we were created to live in. Hope is as available as the breath we take into our lungs. It was the reason we were made; hope is the meaning for our existence. It was Hope that molded us, it is through Hope we have all good things, it is with Hope that we will spend forever with – but hope is in fact…a choice.

It is a choice to turn away from what hurts your heart, it is a choice to keep your eyes set upon the light blue horizon. It is not within a choice that our healing instantly comes, but it is where we find the energy, the spark, the delight to move on – to choose to take in the faces and the places and the wonders that are Hope. It is within that choice that we are infused with an overflowing, unending supply of hope, bringing sweet life one day at a time – eventually the choice turning into consistent awareness of it’s being ; restored, renewed.

“Don’t Wanna Cry” – Pete Yorn

Is it a choice to be “on the other side,” or a road that must be walked entirely from one end to the other?  Can we willingly skip the process of pain? Is it a simple decision to flip on the light, or must it take us the risk of scanning the wall in the dark until we find the right switch? It’s these questions that leave me possibly more confused than the predicament that landed me with this heart full of ache in the first place. Questions keep stacking and my heart keeps beating…but I’m really good at masking my emotions. I make more money in tips than I have since I began working my current job. My friendships seem to multiply with every passing day. My intimate longing to be with Jesus stirs wildly with each passing wind. I laugh, I relax, I eat, I play. But at the end of the night, with the telephone laying by my side, I am reminded of what my heart is going through, I remember the emotions that still sit broken at the bottom of an open vessel that was only opened in the first place for the sake of being “vulnerable.” Vulnerability – you got me into this mess. And so maybe, I wonder, it is vulnerability that will get me out. The word I can’t seem to escape, the word that has been created as a counterfeit for everlasting love – it got me into this mess and will most likely get me into another one in a later day, but maybe, too, I need it for this time in between, this time of healing. Being vulnerable to advice and trying their encouraging words on for size. Being vulnerable in letting others see my pain. Being vulnerable by letting other emotions inside of me that could lead me towards something like healing. Maybe this process of healing is a messy mixture of both a choice and a slow growth. It is first a choice to want to be on the other side. And a gradual patience of letting time and experience, people and emotion escort you to that complete swell of light. It is a recognizing that yes, there is another side of the road, and an agreement to climb into the passenger seat of the vehicle that will carry you onward. It is a refusal of allowing the ache to keep filling your heart, and a patience to wait until every last drop of what is already there has been squeezed and dripped out.

And all of this, is an ache in and of itself…but I’m good at masking my emotions. And I don’t wanna cry.

Create

We were made to create.

Our God created the universe. He created the sky,  the trees, the birds. He created you and me. Needless to say – His hands have molded life’s most beautiful pieces of art. His heart holds the creative expression of which releases dreams into His imagination like none other could begin to fathom – and from those dreams He creates.

We were made in God’s image. We were made to look like Him, to resemble His character, to live out hearts that beat as His beats. Inside of God’s image, we were made to create – just as He creates. We were made to highlight His most stunning features – the honor to be an artist as He is an artist.

God is most honorable for His name of being “Good.” He is a good God in a good mood! As the Creator, it is impossible for Him to create what is not inside of Him; it is not physically, emotionally, or spiritually possible to give out what is not within you. God can only create good things. When we are partnered with Him, we can ONLY create GOOD things!

This is a call to our generation – for the down and out, the upper class, the forgotton and the broken, the adored and the prized. You have a place, YOU have a call – the call to create. Through song and dance, paintings and photography, poetry and prose, gardens and crafts, parties and meetings – create something. You have a call to create – it is a must. It was infused into your blood from  the first beat of your heart, the first gasp of air your lungs felt. You have a destiny, a mandatory duty to put your mark on this world, to leave your signature of beauty to be hung alongside God’s art in the gallery of Creation.

Coming Undone

Heartache leaves you trapped. Trapped within your thoughts, trapped inside of pain, trapped into a world of “what if’s?” and “whys?” It has the aching ability to leave you stuck in the same place while motion and breath continue around you without your consent. Like a broken record, that of which had displaced the comfort that previously resided inside of you earlier plays over and over, never causing you to walk back into the past or plunge forward into better days.

There comes a day when hopes seeds have blossomed it’s buds and gives you a glance at the light, a chance to see that there is a possibility of happiness restored. But those seeds don’t sprout until winter has ended, until the ice thaws. There is a dormant season you are forced to suffer, a season that often leaves you frozen, forgetful of your current place and caught up in a whirlwind of sudden ache.

How is it that heartache is so powerful, so crushing, that it has the capacity to steal away a week (and often more) of your moments? How can a heart that remains beating inside of you, working properly at supplying your body with the necessary form of life, feel like it has literally split in two, broken like glass, washed away in the waves? How is it that heartache has the strength to change and rearrange your every thought and emotion, has the ability to diffuse spirit and happiness, yet stays at such a distance it forces you to continue on with your daily activities; controlling you in such a way that you must be consistent on the outside while trying to muster up enough courage to not let the ache spill out over into your every fiber so as to limit you from functioning as a human all together.

There is always hope, but I wonder if even hope fails at the ability to rescue you from the sound of your heart breaking.

Freedom inside Heartbreak

Love was created first. Meant to be the most permanent, unstoppable, honest truth that no heart would ever second guess. Yet because we live within the world we do, the view of that word that we see today is everything opposite; broken, dirty, and the last thing we dive into completely abandoned.

The word “vulnerable” has been a counterfeit created for something that was meant to be effortless. We now unknowingly need the word in order to remind us how to act. A word that “healthy” individuals recommend as a quality we must have as part of our character if we ever want true love and happiness. Without “vulnerability” we live within fear. Without “vulnerability” we harden our hearts. Without “vulnerability” we miss out on the very way of life that we were meant to live for.

I wonder what Adam and Eve’s relationship looked like during the 48 hours of which followed the event that had them punished like children and ashamed for a life time. Apart from Father God’s heart being broken at the word of His beloveds going behind His back, Adam and Eve were the first two to experience heart ache. And I imagine they were the first two who experienced a fight. I wonder if Adam blamed Eve for the mistake that was made. I wonder if Eve lashed out in guilt and embarrassment. I wonder if they spent that first night outside of the garden apart, sleeping under separate trees. Within this moment, love no longer became the perfect created haven our Father first dreamed up a world of. A rope became frayed, two hearts became weak, and love’s effortless breath became a gasping for air. Trust was broken. As they sat that night, thinking back on the serpent of whom tricked them with words seeming so promising, truth became questioned.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s not the phrase that “sin entered the world” that proves to be the worst, but the sound of the first heart breaking, becoming crushed under pain. To me, it wasn’t just a flipping of the page, but a sound – a sound of glass meeting face-to-face with pavement. It was the beginning of the ache our physical bodies would feel in moments of pain we endure today. Introduce pain.

Vulnerability became the answer to the  broken sense of the word we are now accustomed to. Looking past the fear of lies heard, and through the observed love of which has failed, and beyond the pain felt of our hearts chipping from broken trust – we are to find the strength to rise above, and to once again dive head first into the world of love that has continuously let us down. But no one ever tells us that even within vulnerability, no matter how many times you tread through it with another human being, pain is always met on the other side. You enter into the word with the mindset that you must leave behind the past pain, only to be failed once again. It is a word we use to momentarily train our hearts and our thoughts so as to feel love once again, to be love once again, to know love once again.

I find it achingly real that I have been questioning love. Not true Love that has always been or Love as the name of Jesus, rather the version that came that first lonely night within the garden, the one created as Eve cried for the very first time. Questioning its depth on this earth, its drive within my heart, and the worth between a man and a woman. I catch myself in daily thoughts of weighing the benefits from the downfalls. I hear my voice as I question God on what the word really means here on Earth. Questions pondering the existence of authentic love between couples, debating the reality of if I know what it means to love, wondering if I will ever have a romantic kind of love…or if I even want one. The questions are not necessarily ones I am proud of, but yet I do not want to shy away from the fact that I do ask them. My family and friends can try to pass down the wisdom to lead me on a better path and my pastor may have all the answers – but I am not at any of their stages in life. I do not wish to stay in the place of confusion, but I do wish to find out the answers set apart with God.

Love within the hearts of this Earth may never cease to give me any sort of comfort to the pain, but I hold tight to the fact that I belong inside of an intimate relationship with the Creator of Love, the One who still holds the perfect form of the word in every shape, size, color, and scent. I desire to find my answers from the only One who can give me perfect hope that never goes weak. The only One who knows the taste of true love, Who can remember what it was like in the beginning, and what is promised for the end.

Within the pain, I have the freedom to question. The freedom to listen. The freedom to learn and grow. Within the pain I am stronger in Him.

Israel – Day 11

I just realized I’ve been numbering the days differently on my Facebook videos than I have been on here. My videos are a day ahead because I counted the day of travel. With my writings, I began Day 1 on our first full day here…oh well!

Today was a last good day of touring. Man, I am sore. Jerusalem is one big hill – both ways, I swear. We saw the ruins of King Davids palace today! We also walked through the underground tunnels (water systems) that have been in the City of David since David himself lived there! We went to the Temple Mount where the Holy Temple and the Ark of the Covenant once stood. The place is now gated and owned by the Muslims, making it for a strict religious site. Their big Golden Mosque (of which you can only go inside if you are a Muslim) stands over the place believed to be the rock where the Ark once was, however the Jews believe it stood on another piece of original rock just a few feet outside of the Mosque.

One of my favorite parts of the day is hearing the Muslim prayer being sung over the loud speakers for the whole city to hear every day about noon. The rest of my team hates it, considering that it is a Muslim prayer being spoken over the land – some of them even go into instant spiritual warfare prayers, trying to un-do what is said in the prayer (or something). And I guess I can see where they are coming from, and even I say a little prayer that one day it will be a Jesus prayer being spoken over the city, but still I stop and listen every time I hear it. I like it because it sucks me right out of my daydreams and into the reality of where I am. I walk around in my own little world, in love knowing I am where Jesus once ministered, it is something I never imagined I could/would ever do. But when those prayers are being sung by the deep voices of the Arabs, instantly I am taken away from my current thought and look around at the land surrounding me. I am in the Middle East. The sound is so particular, so cultural defining. Despite the fancy coffee that I’m holding in my hand and the American style of clothes I have fashioned on my body, I remember where I am, how different it is. I remember what I’m doing, and who I’m here to serve. I turn my focus away from the tourist thought mode and silently switch gears into a heart yearning to love on the people of this land. The prayer is a reminder of who I am and what my purpose is. Even though it is not a prayer I myself speak, or even believe, it serves a purpose in keeping me grounded, in matching my heart to the beat of my mission. I just so love Israel.

Israel – Day 10

WHAT AN AMAZING DAY!

Today was the second day of “FREEDOM” where we did Sozo’s for 9 more ministry leaders in Israel. Intercession was especially amazing today, the artwork kicked butt, and there was major breakthrough!

This evening we led ministry at Succat Hallel from 6pm until 10pm! It flew by and was absolutely amazing. Healings, blessings, breakthrough, and deliverance where happening all over the room. There is something so rewarding about serving – running around the room and praying for different people, witnessing as they experience encounters with God and miracles – it is beautiful!! Worship was going on for most the entire night, and at the end we cleared the chairs to do a fire tunnel for all the people at the service. The fire tunnel was crazy awesome, many people going in twice because it was so good! The fire tunnel finally ended and everyone just broke out in song and dance – it. was. AWESOME.

Today was probably my most favorite day of ministry on this trip so far. What an AMAZING God we live for!!! I’m so excited I get to be a part of His love!!

Israel – Brief Interruption

There are a few things I need to clarify.

1. I was terribly wrong. Israel actually DOES do coffee well. Not only do they do it well, but they do it far and beyond Starbucks (or Caribou or Trader Joes or Kaladi Brothers…whichever you think is the best)! I’ve already wrote about Aroma Espresso Bar, but let me just tell you again that it is AMAZING! And when I thought about it, even if it’s not GOOD coffee, there is at least some sort of coffee EVERYWHERE you go. Every news stand. Every convenient store. Every biblical site. Every hotel. And so forth. It’s not always superb coffee like Aroma, but hey, at least they recognize its vital importance to this Earth!
2. Israel doesn’t believe in clocks…or so it seems. There is never a way to find the time – anywhere. The hotels don’t have alarm clocks. The coffee machines don’t even tell the time. There are no clocks in the restaurants or stores. The only chance you have at knowing what time it is, is by wearing a watch!
3. There are still wild cats. Everywhere. And I yell “CAT.” every time I see one (which occurs multiple times a day).

Israel – Day 9

The message today? FREEDOM!

Sitting in the old church connected onto our hotel, the light streamed in from the stained glass windows, illuminating everyone in glowing rare colors. Finding out that today was “Freedom Day” made me squeal and wiggle around in my seat. Freedom not in the sense of us running around Jerusalem, but freedom meaning inner healing!

Sozo is a ministry at Bethel Church that is unlike anything I’ve known before. A Greek word, Sozo means “Salvation.” But the ministry goes deeper than that. To put it simply, it is like counseling sessions – but led by Holy Spirit. There is a “leader” and the one being “sozo-ed” and you enter into a time of prayer. It starts with hurts and pains you have experienced in the past, always beginning from growing up and hurts that were experienced with your parents or childhood in general. With prayer, things just come to surface of experiences in your past that has left you wounded, and when something rises up, you deal with it. And you “deal with it” by either forgiving the person that hurt you, breaking off unhealthy soul ties, etc… You’re releasing pain to God and receiving joy and inner healing in return. Unless you have been “sozo-ed” yourself, it’s  hard to explain in it’s entirety what it is all about. But from someone who has had 2 sozo sessions and a group sozo, let me tell you this – they are absolutely amazing. Such freedom and clarity has set in after I’ve gone through them. Holy Spirit takes you back to your past to an event that hurt you, you deal with it right then and there in the counseling session, and by grace you have covered up all the time from that experience to the current day. You are set free. You suddenly feel “cleaned out.” Bill Johnson even goes to say that we need to sozo ourselves every day – reflecting on the events that occurred and making sure you’re not carrying around any burdens, shame, bitterness, anger, etc… from something or someone that crossed your path during the day. It’s keeping ourselves whole. It is keeping us healthy!

And so today we set up a Sozo environment in the hotel! We had 3 teams (of 2 people) leading the sozo’s, a group doing prophetic art for the person getting the Sozo, and a group interceding for both the leaders and the one getting healed. Today 9 key leaders of ministry in the land had a Sozo with our team, and 9 more will come tomorrow! We had greeters ready to meet them at the door, who then led them to the one who was going to do their Sozo. Each session lasted for about 2 hours, and then the person was led to the area where the art was being created and received a prophetic art piece done specifically for them. A team of us also did worship and prayer in a room while the entire Sozo’s were going on. It was a very structured day – but it was SO amazing. Those doing the actual Sozo counseling reported that each session was incredible. God did mighty things within the hearts of the 9 people we ministered to today, and tomorrow we do it all over again!

While the majority of our group led the Sozo sessions, a few others were at a ministry school doing some teaching, while a couple others interceded for the Israeli government at King of Kings. A good day, yes it was.

In the evening, a small group of us went to the Arab markets in the Old City. Let’s just say that bargaining with the shop keepers is my new favorite thing!!! And I’m darn good at it. The place is so full of the culture of the land, it is an experience just to walk through. I noticed it also helps that I am blonde – since blondes are considered very lovely here because it is so rare. Being blonde even got me extra whipped cream on my coffee at Aroma Espresso Bar tonight. Hey, I’ll take it!

Israel – Day 8

Today began Jerusalem’s team week of [organized] ministry. It was a full day, leaving us exhausted by 10pm – but it was so fulfilling to know that we were actually working as a team in ministry. The street ministry (where we just talk to whoever we feel led to) is crazy and exciting in and of itself, but that is much more of an individual ministry. Usually you pull someone along side you and say “God gave me a word for that person, come with me!” – so it has been refreshing to now mix it up a little and work as a team.

After breakfast and a group meeting of worship and scheduling, we headed over to Succat Hallel (a 24/7 prayer house in the city) where we led worship and then did some healing ministry with words of knowledge and prayer! Afterward, our group headed to the Western Wall – probably one of my favorite experiences of this trip so far. All of my friends and family who gave me a prayer to bring to the wall – it is now there!! It was a very holy, sacred, religious Jewish site (SO COOL). A lunch break with treasure hunts filled the afternoon, and in the evening we regrouped back at the hotel.

A small group of us then headed to King of Kings, a church here who has another prayer house on the 14th story of a mall downtown – overlooking the land of Jerusalem! That prayer house has a heart for the 7 Mountains of Intercession, these mountains being Religion, Family, Media, Art, Government, Education, Business. They devote time specifically to those areas of influence in Israel to have the Truth reported in the land! We were partnered up with one of the leaders of King of Kings, and a school also came in from Canada who wanted a “prayer experience.” I was in the media group, and we went into 2 hrs of beautiful intercession and worship (it was AMAZING!). At the end of our time, James prayed for a students knees that were healed, and then we prayed for one of the leaders knees who was also healed! We created a fire tunnel for the students and then made our way back to the rest of the group who were leading an awesome session at Succat Hallel on prophetic art.

Eating a late dinner, I fell on my bed and drifted into amazing sleep. Ministry is fun!

SHALOM!