Saturday, December 6, 2014

Trying to remember my before in order to appreciate how sweet this after is...(a recent FB status…)


According to Wikipedia,
The biblical commandments concerning the Passover (and the Feast of Unleavened Bread) stress the importance of remembering:
·         And thou shalt remember that thou wast a bondman in Egypt; and thou shalt observe and do these statutes" (Deuteronomy 16:12).
·         Exodus 12:14 commands, in reference to God's sparing of the firstborn from the Tenth Plague: And this day shall be unto you for a memorial, and ye shall keep it a feast to the LORD; throughout your generations ye shall keep it a feast by an ordinance forever.
·         Exodus 13:3 repeats the command to remember: Remember this day, in which you came out of Egypt, out of the house of bondage, for by strength the hand of the LORD brought you out from this place.
I observe a newly-righted relationship with God.
 Surrendered. Subject. Grateful.
CLICK TO TWEET THIS

If God treats you well by teaching you a disastrous lesson, you never forget it. 
~Ray Bradbury

It is my personal celebration of the Passover. I chose to be deliberate about remembering Before, my season in the wilderness, numerous failed attempts to surrender, my journey from breaking to broken, and finally the moment of my absolute despair, the acknowledgement that God would either end my season or give me fortitude to bear it with Grace, or possibly, just maybe, the form of His Blessing for this time in my life might be Passover, if only that I would remember to sing the songs, remember to offer the prayers, to continually tell the story in order that I might fully appreciate how sweet my after could be.

I celebrate my Passover. I observe a newly-righted relationship with God, surrendered, subject, Grateful. At the point of my despair, I believed that testimonies I heard shared would never be mine; not that I wouldn’t live with an enduring faith, but that I might never get to proclaim how He brought me over. Humbly, I accepted that it would never be for me. I was wrong.

I celebrate my Passover, and it does not come but once a year. Celebrating Passover is now my daily worship. I commit to living a life of gratitude in thanks for the blessing I feared might never come. And the blessing? It’s neither a thing, nor a place. It is an appreciation of my present joy. It is the practice of declaring God’s goodness, and trusting that in Him I am many things, but never abandoned, never without hope, never beyond Joy.

From a traditional Passover prayer, these are the words I carry within me…

Lord, thank You for the trials You brought me through. I pledge never to forget. For myself, for us all, may it be Your Will to redeem us from all trouble and servitude. Next year at this season may we all be free. 
Selah and Amen



[Continue reading...]

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Healing had already been delivered

So Jesus came again to Cana of Galilee where He had made the water wine. And there was a certain nobleman whose son was sick at Capernaum. When he heard that Jesus had come out of Judea into Galilee, he went to Him and implored Him to come down and heal his son, for he was at the point of death. Then Jesus said to him, “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will by no means believe.”
The nobleman said to Him, “Sir, come down before my child dies!”
 Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your son lives.” So the man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him, and he went his way.  And as he was now going down, his servants met him and told him, saying, “Your son lives!”
Then he inquired of them the hour when he got better. And they said to him, “Yesterday at the seventh hour the fever left him.” So the father knew that it was at the same hour in which Jesus said to him, “Your son lives.” And he himself believed, and his whole household.
John 4:46-53 (NKJV)

Wednesday, I had the opportunity to attend midweek worship with a dear friend.  She’s always bragging about the refreshment it provides; we’d been looking for an opportunity to fellowship together outside our regular connections; I needed a good infilling.  I’m not as quiet yet as I’ll grow to be, or perhaps I’d have recognized that Wednesday was positioning me to watch God’s Hand move in a way I could clearly observe and share as testimony, but I’ll get there, with His Grace.  For something that didn’t even happen until the next day, God’s Healing had already been delivered. 
original image found here
At midweek worship, the sermon was “Can You Stretch Out Your Faith.” When Jesus was approached by the Roman official to heal his son, His first response was “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will by no means believe.” The official didn’t give up. When he pressed in, Jesus revealed, “Go your way; your son lives.” The desperate father hadn’t even left Jesus’ presence when he heard that Healing had already been delivered. 

Wednesday morning, before I ever made it to worship, I spoke to two friends.  My Gayle wasn’t having a good day.  Not knowing what to say, I encouraged her, twice, to press in and not give up.  I don’t know why I did, but because I am desperately seeking to stay hidden in Grace, that’s what came out.  Within the hour, a second friend called sharing her challenges, and before I ever got it out, she said “I’m just pressing in, knowing it will be alright.” This friend is one who always prays for me, keeps me straight, and laughs me through God’s lessons….this is the former colleague with whom I’d exchange text messages in the office to arrange prayer meetings when things really got rough….when she speaks, I listen. 

When I realized that the preacher was saying press in to get your blessing; challenging us to stretch out our faith in order to be touched and changed by Grace, I still didn’t know… Healing (for Thursday, for a challenge I didn’t even know I’d have) had already been delivered.

Teenagers will make you crazy (that’s neither the revelation nor the healing).  Mine does, as much as I love her.  I wanted to be completely frustrated with her Thursday because,
a) she woke up cranky and evil,
b) she stayed that way and inflicted it upon the rest of us (I crave peaceful mornings…)
c) was so disorganized AND self absorbed that my day risked being devoted to her indulgences AND solving her problems.

In so doing, I was on my way BACK to school to deliver a change of clothes for an afterschool event AND lunch money, because in her desire to be rid of me rushing out of the car during morning drop off we’d both forgotten off track. 

Calming myself, I drove home.  I wasn’t quite back to CHILL, but well on my way.  I found clothes, packed them with a loving note AND money for lunch, checked the time to ensure I’d get back to her on time, and set off.  Imagine my surprise when, upon walking into the school office to deliver the package to my precious girl (I’d found CHILL), there she sat with tears in her eyes. My girl, who’d never been to the principal’s office for a disciplinary matter, sat outside the guidance office awaiting a conversation about a noisy exchange that got them dispatched from class.  She was most upset that the other student slipped away in order to call her own mother for back-up.  My baby felt outnumbered; outmaneuvered; wronged.  This might have been the enemy’s plan, but Healing had already been delivered.

Soon as our eyes met, she began crying again.  As I soothed by baby girl, I told her not to worry.  I told her that no matter what had occurred, at the moment she needed mommy, I was already being delivered. That’s God.

The matter was amicably resolved without consequences.  The lesson, however, lingers.  Healing (in the form of an arriving mommy just where and when my baby needed me), was on its way in the same manner that Jesus delivered healing to the official’s son. God moved my heart (from frustration to meeting needs) at the moment my baby was going to need me by her side.  I’m not as quiet yet as I’ll grow to be, but I was sufficiently yielded and still to be and do as necessary to accomplish His Plan.


Thank You, Lord, for yielded and still.  Thank You for answering Sunday’s prayer, “I am patient.  I am still.  I am yielded.  I am quiet.  I am quieted by the anticipation that I might be used and useful. Thank You for displaying to me and to my child, that God is Good.



[Continue reading...]

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Sowing…

This is my season to reap what I have sown
CLICK TO TWEET SOME ENCOURAGEMENT
I describe the last few hard years of my life as my wilderness wanderings. The saddest part of my confession? Accepting that the wilderness might be where I would live out the remainder of my days…I was wrong. I had it wrong. I do not believe that to be God’s Will for my life. The moment I confessed that the blessings I saw so many enjoying simply weren’t my lot MAY have been the moment I found myself in the depths of my despair…#ButGod. I didn’t even know what to call what I was experiencing at the time-suffice it to say that it was painful. It was discouraging. It was hard. The faith I had was enough to get me there, to lead me to the threshold of this hard place. What I didn’t know, what I hadn’t realized was that I needed a deeper, broader, far more surrendered faith to see the way out. I needed a deeper, broader, fully surrendered faith to see that the wilderness was never the point, nor had it been my location for that time. 
[Continue reading...]

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About me... Growing up Baptist a fourth generation preacher’s kid, Chelle married an Anglican. She boldly seeks God, and thanks her Dad for encouraging her to embrace Theology and chase Truth. Fiercely private, she enjoys two public worship forms, liturgical dance and writing. Dance freed her, providing a language for expression beyond words. Dance is her prayer language. Writing is humbling, sometimes terrifying, always enlightening. Hers is a quirky but reverent perspective on God and Grace. She started blogging to replace a big job that went away. Formerly a Human Resources Executive in the entertainment industry, she suddenly became a Stay-At-Home-Mom, not entirely by choice. Writing started as something to do, but evolved into an ongoing journey to draw nigh to The One. She and her beloved husband have two beautiful children, a gorgeous Boxer, and 20 years of wedded bliss. She maintains a joyous relationship with the Creator, even as she learns difficult lessons while hearing His loving laughter on the wind. Director of Community Engagement and a regular contributor at www.CirclesofFaith.org, she writes for Christ Centered Home Magazine.

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Trying to remember my before in order to appreciate how sweet this after is...(a recent FB status…)


According to Wikipedia,
The biblical commandments concerning the Passover (and the Feast of Unleavened Bread) stress the importance of remembering:
·         And thou shalt remember that thou wast a bondman in Egypt; and thou shalt observe and do these statutes" (Deuteronomy 16:12).
·         Exodus 12:14 commands, in reference to God's sparing of the firstborn from the Tenth Plague: And this day shall be unto you for a memorial, and ye shall keep it a feast to the LORD; throughout your generations ye shall keep it a feast by an ordinance forever.
·         Exodus 13:3 repeats the command to remember: Remember this day, in which you came out of Egypt, out of the house of bondage, for by strength the hand of the LORD brought you out from this place.
I observe a newly-righted relationship with God.
 Surrendered. Subject. Grateful.
CLICK TO TWEET THIS

If God treats you well by teaching you a disastrous lesson, you never forget it. 
~Ray Bradbury

It is my personal celebration of the Passover. I chose to be deliberate about remembering Before, my season in the wilderness, numerous failed attempts to surrender, my journey from breaking to broken, and finally the moment of my absolute despair, the acknowledgement that God would either end my season or give me fortitude to bear it with Grace, or possibly, just maybe, the form of His Blessing for this time in my life might be Passover, if only that I would remember to sing the songs, remember to offer the prayers, to continually tell the story in order that I might fully appreciate how sweet my after could be.

I celebrate my Passover. I observe a newly-righted relationship with God, surrendered, subject, Grateful. At the point of my despair, I believed that testimonies I heard shared would never be mine; not that I wouldn’t live with an enduring faith, but that I might never get to proclaim how He brought me over. Humbly, I accepted that it would never be for me. I was wrong.

I celebrate my Passover, and it does not come but once a year. Celebrating Passover is now my daily worship. I commit to living a life of gratitude in thanks for the blessing I feared might never come. And the blessing? It’s neither a thing, nor a place. It is an appreciation of my present joy. It is the practice of declaring God’s goodness, and trusting that in Him I am many things, but never abandoned, never without hope, never beyond Joy.

From a traditional Passover prayer, these are the words I carry within me…

Lord, thank You for the trials You brought me through. I pledge never to forget. For myself, for us all, may it be Your Will to redeem us from all trouble and servitude. Next year at this season may we all be free. 
Selah and Amen



Saturday, November 1, 2014

Healing had already been delivered

So Jesus came again to Cana of Galilee where He had made the water wine. And there was a certain nobleman whose son was sick at Capernaum. When he heard that Jesus had come out of Judea into Galilee, he went to Him and implored Him to come down and heal his son, for he was at the point of death. Then Jesus said to him, “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will by no means believe.”
The nobleman said to Him, “Sir, come down before my child dies!”
 Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your son lives.” So the man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him, and he went his way.  And as he was now going down, his servants met him and told him, saying, “Your son lives!”
Then he inquired of them the hour when he got better. And they said to him, “Yesterday at the seventh hour the fever left him.” So the father knew that it was at the same hour in which Jesus said to him, “Your son lives.” And he himself believed, and his whole household.
John 4:46-53 (NKJV)

Wednesday, I had the opportunity to attend midweek worship with a dear friend.  She’s always bragging about the refreshment it provides; we’d been looking for an opportunity to fellowship together outside our regular connections; I needed a good infilling.  I’m not as quiet yet as I’ll grow to be, or perhaps I’d have recognized that Wednesday was positioning me to watch God’s Hand move in a way I could clearly observe and share as testimony, but I’ll get there, with His Grace.  For something that didn’t even happen until the next day, God’s Healing had already been delivered. 
original image found here
At midweek worship, the sermon was “Can You Stretch Out Your Faith.” When Jesus was approached by the Roman official to heal his son, His first response was “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will by no means believe.” The official didn’t give up. When he pressed in, Jesus revealed, “Go your way; your son lives.” The desperate father hadn’t even left Jesus’ presence when he heard that Healing had already been delivered. 

Wednesday morning, before I ever made it to worship, I spoke to two friends.  My Gayle wasn’t having a good day.  Not knowing what to say, I encouraged her, twice, to press in and not give up.  I don’t know why I did, but because I am desperately seeking to stay hidden in Grace, that’s what came out.  Within the hour, a second friend called sharing her challenges, and before I ever got it out, she said “I’m just pressing in, knowing it will be alright.” This friend is one who always prays for me, keeps me straight, and laughs me through God’s lessons….this is the former colleague with whom I’d exchange text messages in the office to arrange prayer meetings when things really got rough….when she speaks, I listen. 

When I realized that the preacher was saying press in to get your blessing; challenging us to stretch out our faith in order to be touched and changed by Grace, I still didn’t know… Healing (for Thursday, for a challenge I didn’t even know I’d have) had already been delivered.

Teenagers will make you crazy (that’s neither the revelation nor the healing).  Mine does, as much as I love her.  I wanted to be completely frustrated with her Thursday because,
a) she woke up cranky and evil,
b) she stayed that way and inflicted it upon the rest of us (I crave peaceful mornings…)
c) was so disorganized AND self absorbed that my day risked being devoted to her indulgences AND solving her problems.

In so doing, I was on my way BACK to school to deliver a change of clothes for an afterschool event AND lunch money, because in her desire to be rid of me rushing out of the car during morning drop off we’d both forgotten off track. 

Calming myself, I drove home.  I wasn’t quite back to CHILL, but well on my way.  I found clothes, packed them with a loving note AND money for lunch, checked the time to ensure I’d get back to her on time, and set off.  Imagine my surprise when, upon walking into the school office to deliver the package to my precious girl (I’d found CHILL), there she sat with tears in her eyes. My girl, who’d never been to the principal’s office for a disciplinary matter, sat outside the guidance office awaiting a conversation about a noisy exchange that got them dispatched from class.  She was most upset that the other student slipped away in order to call her own mother for back-up.  My baby felt outnumbered; outmaneuvered; wronged.  This might have been the enemy’s plan, but Healing had already been delivered.

Soon as our eyes met, she began crying again.  As I soothed by baby girl, I told her not to worry.  I told her that no matter what had occurred, at the moment she needed mommy, I was already being delivered. That’s God.

The matter was amicably resolved without consequences.  The lesson, however, lingers.  Healing (in the form of an arriving mommy just where and when my baby needed me), was on its way in the same manner that Jesus delivered healing to the official’s son. God moved my heart (from frustration to meeting needs) at the moment my baby was going to need me by her side.  I’m not as quiet yet as I’ll grow to be, but I was sufficiently yielded and still to be and do as necessary to accomplish His Plan.


Thank You, Lord, for yielded and still.  Thank You for answering Sunday’s prayer, “I am patient.  I am still.  I am yielded.  I am quiet.  I am quieted by the anticipation that I might be used and useful. Thank You for displaying to me and to my child, that God is Good.



Saturday, October 25, 2014

Sowing…

This is my season to reap what I have sown
CLICK TO TWEET SOME ENCOURAGEMENT
I describe the last few hard years of my life as my wilderness wanderings. The saddest part of my confession? Accepting that the wilderness might be where I would live out the remainder of my days…I was wrong. I had it wrong. I do not believe that to be God’s Will for my life. The moment I confessed that the blessings I saw so many enjoying simply weren’t my lot MAY have been the moment I found myself in the depths of my despair…#ButGod. I didn’t even know what to call what I was experiencing at the time-suffice it to say that it was painful. It was discouraging. It was hard. The faith I had was enough to get me there, to lead me to the threshold of this hard place. What I didn’t know, what I hadn’t realized was that I needed a deeper, broader, far more surrendered faith to see the way out. I needed a deeper, broader, fully surrendered faith to see that the wilderness was never the point, nor had it been my location for that time. 

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