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Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Finding Fall . . . Finding True Identity

I discovered a colorful leaf on the grass today. Another yellow and red one caught my eye as I jogged along on the path. Continuing around the pond, I could see a patch of red midst the sea of green leaves.

Fall. Autumn. My favorite season. 
How I love being surrounded by the beauty of the colors. Yesterday marks the official arrival of autumn, but the full splendor is not all around me yet. I only see glimpses of the beauty.

One here. One there. Like finding a treasure. 
And so it seems with Your touch, Your ways. Sometimes I have to look harder to see Your colors. To see Your presence all around me. To feel it. But still, You are there. All around me.

When we've lived in places around the world where the seasons didn't change, I would go through withdrawals. The crispness in the air. The changing colors - the bold orange, the bright yellow, the magnificent reds. And deep within, I knew, this longing was beyond the changing of the leaves' colors.

Deeper than the unmasking of the green leaves.
Becoming who they really were.
I missed seeing true identity showing forth.

These leaves - they know it too. They have been covered; it's not time to release their real identity, but soon. Did you know that the leaves have had the orange and yellow colors inside them all along. As the season changes, they are no longer producing chlorophyll which had caused them to be green. The reds are so red now because glucose gets trapped.






This. This beautiful display of colors. This is what I'm looking forward to. Me finding You. All around me. And in finding you, seeing you, true identity is revealed in me.




As Michael Card writes in Scribbling in the Sand, "The beauty of God demands a response from us," so I stop and admire and photograph and write.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

A Gift and A Voice

A simple task.
A writing exercise.
Two questions.
Two very different answers.

What do I think about my writing?

It's scattered. A work in progress, since it has improved. Poetic at times. Some pieces are more powerful than others. 

Sometimes I wonder if my writing really "speaks" to anyone but me. I feel so vulnerable when I write.

At times, it's not composed well. Nor does it seem to make sense. Or flow. Maybe it's not as descriptive as I'd like it to be.

But it is my passion.
And it is my calling.
And it is something I have to do to solidify these conversations with God; my thoughts and feelings and what He speaks and reveals. 

So it goes deep.
It clarifies, reveals, and releases.

What does He have to say about my writing?

Your writing is a GIFT . . . to Me, to others, to you. It is a treasure I put inside of you. You've had glimpses years ago of this creativity, but you have no idea what I have in store for you through this gift.

Your writing is your VOICE - the one I gave to you; the one I speak through, that My name may be glorified and my ways discerned. Do not worry that you feel unqualified for I tell you that no one who ever felt qualified (on their own account) was. I'm looking at your heart; I'm looking at you, looking at Me. When it seems I'm silent and far away, know that I am so very near and the words and stories will come in time. There is a season for everything. If you rush writing in the winter season, it will be as foolish as expecting a harvest in the winter or growth in the fall. Let each season be what it is. Some may seem to drag on while some may progress more quickly, but it is I who guides the seasons.