Such A Gift
Wearied from a severe battle, due to the onslaught and length of duration, I found myself believing some of the lies my enemy was spitting at me between blows.
"He's abandoned you!" they hissed
"No, He has promised never to leave nor forsake me." I stated confidently throuogh exerting gasps.
"Oh, Yah, Then where is he, this savior of yours?" they slurred through their spit.
"He is my Strength and High Tower of Refuge!" I retorted.
"He must be pretty weak then, cause you're getting tired and I don't see any tower around here. I only see you, abandoned and growing weak."
SLAM, another hit to my shield.
"In my weakness His strength is proven."
"I don't see any proof, except of your failures."
With that last comment came a shower of fiery arrows with times and dates of my past failures.
WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!
They came so fast, I missed several which pierced my heart through the breastplate of righteousness. This was due to my haste in dressing for battle. I grabbed the wrong breastplate. The one I threw on was filthy, tattered, made of the threads of fleshly righteousness. It was lighter, but not sturdy as the shiny stainless steel of His righteousness.
Each arrow my shield missed, penetratied to vital places. I weakened. Instead of keeping my eyes on the battle or my enemies whereabouts, I began focusing on my wounds, lowering my defenses. My enemy didn't stop firing just because I slowed. On the contrary, he quickened his pace, driving deep for the kill. Each wound became infected with self pity, doubt, anger, and agreement of the charges against my Lord.
I fell to the ground, became confused, found my sight was blurred, while succumbing to the slow numbing of depression.
"Lord, Help Me!" I cried.
"I'm lost, afraid, afraid I've lost You. I see why you must loathe my very existance." I screamed as I read the evidence of my past off the arrows protruding from my flesh.
"Please, I know I am all wretchedness to You, but I have no other recourse but to call on You. Please....."
My cries drifted into what I believed oblivion, I had little faith they would be answered. However, a short reprieve came (for my enemies were still firing at me) a day or two later. Gathering my strength to continue, for there was no other option at the time, I went to my little family, my house church. As I sat at the table, for we eat together, my Little Bluebird sat next to me placing a small gift bag on the floor between us.
"This is for you," her eyes twinkled.
Quizzically returning her gaze, she directed my attention to the bag where she showed me a few of the "goodies" snuggled inside. One of these treasures, was a sand pail painted with a calming ocean beach scene. As I marveled over the gift, she whispered in my ear,
"I've written a poem for you."
"You have?"
"Yes, when I saw the painting on the pail, I saw you, and wrote it down."
I was amazed, no one had ever written a poem for me, let alone about me.
As everyone moved into the living room, I stealthly slipped out the lovely paper and began to read.
I have no idea what went on in the room during that time. I was translated spiritually into another realm, one of pure peace, serenity, encouragement, and love, such love...It misted about me rejuvinating my spirit like a dewy morning. Each word penetrated the deepest wounds I have every had, even those scarred over, softening, healiing. At times it was more than I could endure....such bliss, such life, Such A Gift!
My dear sister looked over, knowing all too well what was happening, placed a comfoting hand on my back, softly rubbing in the oil of refreshment.
What a Savior, What a Dear Dear Savior, Redeemer. He not only answered my cry for help, but sent the most beautiful gift from His bosom to mine bourne on the wings of His Most Loved Little Bluebird.
May you be reminded this day, from this entry, that you are CONSTANTLY SURROUNDED BY HIS LOVE. Look to Him and not your wounds, but even if you do fall, know He has the most beautiful winged messengers at His side eagerly waiting to sustain you with refreshment from the Heart of Heaven...
Ever and Always
Beth
"He's abandoned you!" they hissed
"No, He has promised never to leave nor forsake me." I stated confidently throuogh exerting gasps.
"Oh, Yah, Then where is he, this savior of yours?" they slurred through their spit.
"He is my Strength and High Tower of Refuge!" I retorted.
"He must be pretty weak then, cause you're getting tired and I don't see any tower around here. I only see you, abandoned and growing weak."
SLAM, another hit to my shield.
"In my weakness His strength is proven."
"I don't see any proof, except of your failures."
With that last comment came a shower of fiery arrows with times and dates of my past failures.
WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!
They came so fast, I missed several which pierced my heart through the breastplate of righteousness. This was due to my haste in dressing for battle. I grabbed the wrong breastplate. The one I threw on was filthy, tattered, made of the threads of fleshly righteousness. It was lighter, but not sturdy as the shiny stainless steel of His righteousness.
Each arrow my shield missed, penetratied to vital places. I weakened. Instead of keeping my eyes on the battle or my enemies whereabouts, I began focusing on my wounds, lowering my defenses. My enemy didn't stop firing just because I slowed. On the contrary, he quickened his pace, driving deep for the kill. Each wound became infected with self pity, doubt, anger, and agreement of the charges against my Lord.
I fell to the ground, became confused, found my sight was blurred, while succumbing to the slow numbing of depression.
"Lord, Help Me!" I cried.
"I'm lost, afraid, afraid I've lost You. I see why you must loathe my very existance." I screamed as I read the evidence of my past off the arrows protruding from my flesh.
"Please, I know I am all wretchedness to You, but I have no other recourse but to call on You. Please....."
My cries drifted into what I believed oblivion, I had little faith they would be answered. However, a short reprieve came (for my enemies were still firing at me) a day or two later. Gathering my strength to continue, for there was no other option at the time, I went to my little family, my house church. As I sat at the table, for we eat together, my Little Bluebird sat next to me placing a small gift bag on the floor between us.
"This is for you," her eyes twinkled.
Quizzically returning her gaze, she directed my attention to the bag where she showed me a few of the "goodies" snuggled inside. One of these treasures, was a sand pail painted with a calming ocean beach scene. As I marveled over the gift, she whispered in my ear,
"I've written a poem for you."
"You have?"
"Yes, when I saw the painting on the pail, I saw you, and wrote it down."
I was amazed, no one had ever written a poem for me, let alone about me.
As everyone moved into the living room, I stealthly slipped out the lovely paper and began to read.
I have no idea what went on in the room during that time. I was translated spiritually into another realm, one of pure peace, serenity, encouragement, and love, such love...It misted about me rejuvinating my spirit like a dewy morning. Each word penetrated the deepest wounds I have every had, even those scarred over, softening, healiing. At times it was more than I could endure....such bliss, such life, Such A Gift!
My dear sister looked over, knowing all too well what was happening, placed a comfoting hand on my back, softly rubbing in the oil of refreshment.
What a Savior, What a Dear Dear Savior, Redeemer. He not only answered my cry for help, but sent the most beautiful gift from His bosom to mine bourne on the wings of His Most Loved Little Bluebird.
May you be reminded this day, from this entry, that you are CONSTANTLY SURROUNDED BY HIS LOVE. Look to Him and not your wounds, but even if you do fall, know He has the most beautiful winged messengers at His side eagerly waiting to sustain you with refreshment from the Heart of Heaven...
Ever and Always
Beth
posted by beth at 10:41 AM
2 comments
