Flatline

flatline

 

Flatline – I’ve been hearing it in my head for the past few days. There’s a good chance it wasn’t just my head, but maybe my spirit, too.

In the midst of hearing “Flatline”, I’ve been feeling very dull and uninspired – about so many things.  I’ve been feeling the pull to write or even create in general but when I’ve set out to do that, it’s like there’s nothing to pull from, no reserves to tap into, kind of like my brain or spirit has flatlined – died. It’s not sadness or depression I’m feeling, that’s so not it. I believe it’s more like I have been living in a fog of fatigue –just too tired to think and no motivation to push through.

For the past few weeks my schedule has been so full that I haven’t gotten much rest or sleep at night. I know that doing that over an extended period of time can take a toll on you. But then add stress to the equation and you have a recipe for burnout – at the very least. I think I may have been experiencing this and the Holy Spirit has been sending me warning signals.

Since this fogginess, business or whatever it is has arrived, I have not felt like sharing or interacting with anyone: it would take too much effort. All I’ve wanted to do really was go and hide somewhere, disappear maybe and take a nap. But that’s not really true, it’s a lie. I know this. These “feelings” are not the problem; they are the result of something else. I love interacting with people! I consider so many of you my family. I also know that yes, I’ve been burning the candle at both ends -but to not want to engage with people to get revitalized is just plain dumb. I KNOW this. But I’ve been too blah to tend to it.

It’s like when Gideon was hiding from the Midianites in the winepress, sifting wheat. I’ve been hiding…from what, I don’t know. Myself I guess. What I do know is that I haven’t been engaging and absolutely haven’t felt like I had anything to contribute anyway. I’ve been spending time “just getting by” and not reaching out at all. Oh the excuse in my head says I’m simply too busy to interact right now, so I came into agreement with it.

A mutiny had been going on! In my exhaustion, my body has been dictating terms and I believe it has been getting its way. That’s not good. Not good at all.

And so it has been going…

Friday I was reading a post that Rob Coscia posted and it brought to mind the song by Danny Gokey, Tell Your Heart to Beat Again, and I went to YouTube to take a listen.

The version I chose happened to be the one in which Danny tells the back-story of the song. I had only heard the abridged version so when I heard the full story, it really hit me. It made me break down and cry. I had a hard time stopping. Why was that?

I didn’t realize the Holy Spirit was speaking to me through it and because of that, my spirit was crying out for a restart! It was saying, it’s time to live again!  I should have listened…

A few hours later I’m still hearing the word Flatline…and again I’m back to where I was prior to hearing that song; feeling nothing but ambivalence and lethargy. Everything was pretty much; eh, I’m just tired. (What a confession!!)

I worked a double shift on Saturday and got home about 11 O’clock. Paul was already in bed so I poured a glass of wine and played with the cats for a few minutes then returned an Instant Message from Amy, got in the shower and went to bed. I had no desire to even turn on my computer. I wasn’t sad or depressed, or even having a pity party; just in a fog of numb exhaustion.

On Sunday, Paul and I both had the day off so we took advantage of it by taking two long naps each. When we weren’t napping, we were either hanging out talking or we were eating. We both needed some time to unwind and rest, some time to simply be and let go of things that may or may not need doing; or even get done.

Before lying down and taking a nap for the second time, I made a short post about the word Flatline on my wall and then I took a nap.

I slept for over 2 hours.

While I was making dinner, Paul asked if I had seen the comments on the post I had made. I had not. Jesse had commented on my post and said that “Flatline went right along with the live video he was planning to do later that evening.”  That got my attention. I thought, really?? So of course I went to his wall to see what he was talking about. He had posted that the upcoming video would be titled, “The night of the living dead.” I thought what in the world? But after pondering a moment I realized that Flatline was a term used when someone’s heart stopped beating, aka had died. (And I promise, it was a great word despite a first reaction of the title!)

Hmmm, no wonder that song caused a reaction in me! It finally clicked! Someone said, “Clear!” and the paddles hit my chest! It was time to tell MY heart to beat again.

I watched Jesse’s video about a half hour after he posted it; I didn’t get to see it live. Wish I had but since I didn’t know about it, it wasn’t possible.

While watching and listening I heard, as if from a megaphone, “Spirit Rise! It’s time to live again!”  This entire message started clearing the fog in my head so my heart could beat again and my spirit could begin to take charge again.

Here’s the link to the song by Danny Gokey https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eUHRDCYnFfg

And here’s the link to Jesse’s live video. (I promise, it wasn’t just a message for me!)

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=500438711

One more thing…

This morning, I woke up with the lyrics, “Building a mystery” playing in my head/spirit. It’s a Sarah McLachlan song. I went to YouTube and looked it up. Guess what the first two lines of the lyrics are? You come out at night, that’s when the energy comes. I thought it was pretty interesting considering the name of Jesse’s word the night before, (Night of the Living Dead). AND, it’s not so gruesome…go listen to his word. In part, he was saying (paraphrase): “it’s time to wake up, come up out of your stupor.” (And lot’s more)

Side note:  Lisa Perna was doing a live video and speaking pretty much on this topic today, too. One thing she mentioned caught my attention: Thoughts have sound…energy, if you will, and it reminded me of the second line of the lyrics I looked up: that’s when the energy comes.

God is speaking to me…

Let me get the cares of the world from the forefront of my mind and look to see not only what He’s doing, but also to hear what He’s saying. I know in Him is the rest I seek. Not in a list of things that need to be done first! And if I want to find it, I need to Let Him be the forefront of everything I do.

I thought He was….

Be attentive to your spirit; it matters. It  matters a lot.

 

Returning to Your First Love

first love - take the risk

When Paul and I first met, the only thing we wanted to do was spend time together. Of course that wasn’t really possible, but we took every opportunity we could find to make it happen. When we couldn’t, I spent all the time we were apart thinking about him.

It’s amazing how consumed we were with each other – it was our first love. It was a time where everything else slid to the background and we became the forefront of everything we did or thought about.

When I was in the kitchen cooking, Paul joined me so we could still be together. I had an arm chair in the dining area that fit him perfectly. We would talk about our day but mostly we would simply share about our lives – our hopes and dreams, our disappointments, our victories and even our defeats. All the places in our hearts that hadn’t been shared came out into the open and were celebrated with love.

What was happening was, I was cooking and preparing a meal but my attention or my focus was on Paul. Spending time with him and being interested in his day and really, his whole life. The actual act of cooking was simply one of those things I did without all that much thought, and I wasn’t all that great of a cook back then either. That wasn’t the point. The time in the kitchen was about us spending time together while I multi-tasked and cooked meals but, the main thing going on was the soul or emotion connection; relationship.

We fit together like two clasped hands. I adored the ground he walked on. I was his biggest encourager and his was the same for me.

It was the best of times.

These kitchen conversations continued on after we were married. I began to take a huge interest in learning how to cook. I had no idea how people knew what spice or herb went with what. The only way I could figure it out was to try it. So I started growing and studying herbs. I began devouring cookbooks and trying every recipe that intrigued me.

But that was many years ago.

These days when I’m baking, I’m often somewhere else in my mind. I am physically there in my kitchen but my thoughts are miles away thinking about friends and conversations we’ve had or often, I am thinking about the person who will receive what I am currently baking.

Occasionally, I even have conversations with people who aren’t even in the room. More often than not if no one is physically in the room with me, I’m having conversations with God. We talk about many things. Sometimes it’s me praying and other times it’s not. When I interact with God like this, I am at complete rest; there is no anxiety or worry, I multi-task with ease. With my physical hands I am baking something but in my heart and mind or in my imagination, I am having a conversation with someone I can’t see with  my natural eyes – yet my conversation and communication is as if I can.

When I am in this place, I am at rest. I am comfortable knowing that what is transpiring is real and affects my relationship with God. It is just as real as when Paul is in the kitchen conversing with me – I’m enjoying first love with God.

While in this place of rest, everything that tries to remind me how bad some circumstance is or how dire a problem seems – falls to the wayside. I am in a bubble of protection and love. I am instead consumed with the One who has all of my attention and I believe it all comes down to this:

When Pau and I first loved, there was so much rest when we were together, even though in reality it was one of the toughest times of our lives. When we were together we were strengthened so that when we needed to be strong we would be because there was a history or testimony of a love that could not be shaken. There was a safe place to dwell in the midst of storms.

How do you find rest? You return to your first love, of course. That is where the testimony lies. My first love with Paul is like my walk with Jesus – even more so because in Him I find rest. They are both my safe place.

When I’m going about my day to day endeavors and find myself getting frustrated because the car stalled or the recipe isn’t working out like I thought it would and yet those muffins have to get in the mail, I have to stop for a moment and breathe. I have to listen to my heart reminding me that it will work out – I need to return to my first love and let my focus be there, not on what isn’t going right.

When I was thinking about these things the other day, I realized this was a key I needed to engage more often. I’ve heard the phrase, “Return to your first love” many times but mostly swept it aside as one of those “spiritual” things that I didn’t understand. I would shrug it off and move on because I couldn’t figure out what it meant in context of my life or even in the context of things I was going through at a particular time.

“Return to your first love” I know it’s talking about that time when all of my focus was on Him and this new amazing love we shared; those giddy days of adoration and almost being oblivious to anything else – at least for me. But that was all I knew.

What I didn’t realize until just a few weeks ago was that “first love” was also the seat of my resting place. It’s a safe place to come and let worries and stress fall away. It’s the place where I can labor and not grow weary. It’s the place where I can walk out my calling and not fear the judgments of man. It’s also my lampstand and it’s my great reward.

”He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes, I will grant to eat of the tree of life which is in the Paradise of God.’ (Rev. 2:7)

When I find myself in situations that aren’t in my control, read most of the time, I need to remember that I have the key to rest and the key to peace. I simply have to enter in and have a seat.

Picture credit: https://unsplash.com/@roy23

When Soaking Was Hard

Branches, soaking

We went to Toronto Airport Fellowship in January 2007 with a group of people from the Healing Rooms here in Nashville. We were there for a week during the leadership conference. What a blessing it was and what an eye-opening experience too.

But that is an entirely different story – I want to tell you about soaking instead.

While we were there in Toronto, Paul joined Catch the Fire Soaking Prayer Rooms so we could have an affiliate here in Nashville. It was a big deal in those days. We would have soaking sessions once a week at the healing rooms on Sunday evenings. We would all bring our blankets, pillows or whatever else we felt was needed to relax so we could soak in God’s presence and experience Him.

Paul (or I) would get a playlist of soaking music that would last an hour or so to help usher us into a place where we could be attuned to what God wanted to say to us. When the “session” was over and the music had come to an end, everyone would share what they encountered or what they saw, etc.

It was always very interesting what other people shared. Many went to heaven and received revelation about things going on in their lives. Others would have angels or even Jesus Himself minister to them. Everyone experienced something. That is except me; I never saw or experienced anything. I couldn’t even be still without fidgeting and changing positions a dozen times or so.

After several weeks of trying to still my thoughts or even my physical body without any actual results, I gave up – I was done trying.  Instead of lying down with my eyes closed, I started sitting up with my back against the wall on my blankets and read my Bible. Sometimes I would be so frustrated I would only pretend to read, those were the times I would get angry and wonder what was wrong with me, why couldn’t I be like the others and see God or have some heavenly experience?

During these frustration times I wanted to quit going altogether but it wasn’t possible. I had to be there because it was mostly women who went to the soaking sessions and Paul needed me there for accountability sake, etc. which didn’t give me much of a choice about whether to attend and didn’t help my grumpy disposition very much – actually it only made me grumpier! Yes I know I was being ridiculous and not exactly helping my “lack of encounter” situation.

About four or five weeks into these soaking sessions, I remember putting my blankets as far away from everyone as I could possibly get. I wanted to have my pity party all by myself, thank you.  Once everyone was settled and Paul had put the CD on, I picked up my Bible and tried to read, having no plan to soak at all. After a few minutes of being so distracted that I couldn’t read, I began to cry – I couldn’t stop. I tried taking deep breaths and physically willing myself to stop but, to no avail. I must have cried silently, with tears pouring down my face for at least twenty minutes or so when suddenly, I wasn’t on my blanket anymore.

I kept blinking away the remains of tears from my eyes, trying to figure out where I was.  And then I saw Him.  He was standing with His back to me. I didn’t see His face but I knew it was Jesus. I began looking around the room and I saw that I was in a large silver and white ballroom with soft, peaceful lighting. Large columns were space throughout the enormous room but I wasn’t looking around too much because my eyes were glued on the scene in front of me…

I saw a small girl – she was dancing with Jesus. She was wearing a pale blue dress with black Patent-leather shoes and was about 2 or 3 years old. She looked familiar somehow but I didn’t know how that could be.  As I said, I didn’t see Jesus’ face but I did see Him from about the neck down. He too was wearing black dress shoes and very formal attire. He had the little girl’s feet on top of his like I’d seen before with daddies and daughters. As they twirled past me, I realized the little girl was me and I suddenly remember a picture of me at that age wearing the same outfit.

Once I realized the girl was me, I was suddenly on my blanket again – back at the soaking session. I then heard the Lord tell me, “See I was with you then, just like I am now. We danced together in heaven and can do it again.”

He had taken my present self to see something that had occurred many years before. Whether it was a vision or I really went to heaven to see Him dancing with me as a little girl, I can’t really say. And it doesn’t matter which it was to me. What mattered was that I finally had an experience!!! I was suddenly crying again but this time, it was out of joy, not sadness. I didn’t share this experience with everyone even though I had been longing to share something but this was too special. I needed to cherish this by myself for a while.

After that experience, I didn’t have trouble soaking anymore or experiencing heavenly encounters. I think maybe I had to get over “me” and simply trust Him and His timing. I needed to not compare or measure my experiences, (or lack of them), with others. He has plenty of experiences waiting just for me.

(Photo found here – https://stocksnap.io/photo/0LKVSMU3AF)

This is the picture of me I remembered while I was in heaven. Every time I see this now I think of dancing with my King.

Ginny @ 2

 

Many Beautiful Candles Snuffed Out Way Too Soon

 

I posted this on Facebook on Sunday night but never posted on my blog…perfect love

Saturday morning I read the news about the death of Christina Grimmie. She was shot by a gunman while signing autographs after a concert – she died of those wounds shortly after.

I spent many weeks watching her on The Voice a couple of years back. She was amazing – so full of life and spunk. She had incredible talent and every week on The Voice I looked forward to what she would do next. I was never disappointed.

I’m still in shock over her senseless death. I have been praying for her family and her fans all around the world. She has left a lasting impressing on my life. A beautiful candle snuffed out way too soon.

This morning, Sunday June 12, 2016 I woke up to the news coming out of Orlando of the massacre of 50 people and even more wounded – many critically. I’m not one to set out to watch the news, ever. But when things like this happen, it’s plastered all over social media almost instantly.

When I read this news, I was instantly grieved, as was everyone else I know. Something like this is so hard to wrap your brain around and I’m not sure we ever will be able to. My fall back during these times is to pray. And while praying, I didn’t ask God why this happened. That’s the wrong question. What I asked instead was, “How do I pray, what can I do?”

The way God talks to me is through my thoughts so instead of waiting for a great big booming voice to tell me how to pray, I just started to pray in the spirit. Then I began to intercede for the survivors and for the first responders. I prayed for the families of those who had lost loved ones and I prayed for those whose lives were forever changed. He was directing how I prayed.

I’ve prayed many prayers today. Every time I sat down and was still, I couldn’t help but pray.  My heart has been so heavy at the senselessness of it all.

BUT, I’m here to focus on what we CAN do.

What we can do is not only pray without ceasing, we can let this day change us. We can let this day strengthen our resolve to love better, to be a light of love shining to those around us who may not even know there is such a thing. It is love that will change the world. All our words mean nothing if we don’t go out and demonstrate it.

We can be the defenders of those persecuted ones. We can extend unconditional love no matter what someone looks like, what they believe, who they love or even who they don’t. We can pray for those who are doing these senseless acts. We can pray and support the victims. We can be lead to exactly where we are needed and most effective, if we can have ears that hear the heart of our Father. We can be the hand of kindness. We can bring a ray of sunshine and hope to the hopeless.

On and on it goes. Sometimes we have to stop spending our time talking about the problems and go be the solution. This is one of those times. The finger pointing solves nothing. Not really. Instead, we can take an active part in spreading peace, love and joy to a hurting world.

It’s time to leave the building. It’s time to take back out neighborhoods, our cities and yes, our country! Who’s with me??

 

Turn the page…

sleepy kitty

I’ve been on a bit of a journey of late. Albeit an unwelcome one, I did glean a few things from it. And that’s the point of a journey when it’s all said and done, right – to capture some elusive thing that wouldn’t have otherwise been discovered – at least maybe?

So here’s what happened:

On Thursday, as many of you know, I came down with a stomach virus and had to leave work early. I won’t go into all the gory details of driving home in rush hour traffic while throwing up. No, I won’t.  Once I got home, Paul sent out some prayer request on Facebook and as the faithful people you are, you responded in turn. Thank you, for those prayers.

By Friday morning I wasn’t much better which of course may have something to do with the fact I was up all night – maybe. My lack of energy and basically feeling sore all over forced me to be in bed all day, but I did sleep a lot.

When I got up on Saturday morning better – so much so, I thought I could go into work and at least stay for a good part of my shift. I was wrong – back to bed I went, after driving all the way there and back again.

By now, it’s Saturday mid-day, I’m in bed and going bonkers! I don’t feel bad enough to stay in bed but every time I get up I feel out of breath and woozy. My computer, which is a desktop, is in the other room and my phone just isn’t a great substitute for a keyboard for me. I just need something to do!

I went into the living room where we had moved the TV and tried my hand at flipping channels, but that didn’t even work. I somehow got confused about which auxiliary I was using or what channel I needed to be on or something. Either way, I couldn’t get it figured out and only ended up more frustrated; so I went back to bed and took another nap.

When I woke up, I discovered that I’m starving! That’s a sign of getting better, right? Food wasn’t making me nauseous anymore so naturally, Paul and I decided to go out and get some food for an early mother’s day dinner. We had a great time, I was feeling a lot better and of course the company was the best. The food on the other hand was a stupid (for me) mistake – I ordered pizza. Yes, see what I mean?

By the time I got back home I was already feeling very sore in my stomach and had indigestion to boot. Needless to say, I was up all night again. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid. (Not me, but my choices!)

And then it was Sunday, Mother’s Day…and where am I? You guessed it; I’m in bed having a great big pity party because I can’t do anything except stay in bed. I can’t even have coffee…again!

Did I mention somewhere the fact that I never get sick? It’s true, I almost never get sick and maybe that’s why this was such a difficult time. Or, I don’t know, maybe a tough strain of virus!?

But, to explain, this post isn’t to depress you. No, it’s to tell you what I learned from all this. (Smile)

  1. I hate being sick!
  2. I’m a terrible patient!
  3. I don’t do well without food! (It makes me hangry!)
  4. I’m grumpy
  5. No coffee??? I can’t even…
  6. I develop ADD when I have to stay in bed. (Aka, I am so restless!)
  7. I am more stubborn than I knew. (Okay, some people already know this)

But what I did learn was that I really can rest. It’s a work, for sure and maybe that’s what is meant by, “Strive to enter into His rest”, but I did manage to do it. I also learned that listening to Wisdom and not being impatient early in the game is much better than realizing it later and paying dire consequences. (At least in this case)

During those times of restlessness I was whining to God and having a big ole pity party. (I can’t even begin to call it prayer because it wasn’t.) I felt so left out of everything; all alone. I even began to entertain lies about not doing enough, not writing enough, not whatever enough! I was getting really sad and depressed for a while there! Yes, of course I realized those were lies I was listening to but sometimes, I find myself there in the midst of them anyway.

Eventually, God interrupted those voices and I plainly heard Him say, “You don’t need to do anything; you are enough exactly as you are. You are loved right now, right where you are; even in bed being sick. I love you.”

The lies left immediately. I let out a big sigh and had a few tears. He is so good. He was with me the entire time and when I quit listening to lies, I heard him and felt Him near. He didn’t need me to do anything or be anything. He simply wanted me to rest and feel how loved I am. And really, is there a better gift than that?

One more thing I need to mention. I also learned that even in the midst of suffering, I am a very blessed woman.  I was in a warm/cool home of my own, not out on the street. I had many loving friends and family members praying for me. I had a sweet wonderful husband who was always available for any need I had and I even had a sweet kitty by my side the whole time demonstrating what peace and rest was all about. (First world blessings, I say)

I am alive and doing fine, thank you very much. Turn the page…

 

Picture found here: http://www.petpictures.xyz

Mother’s Day and Honoring Women

Beautiful-Butterfly-On-Pink-Flower

Mother’s Day is on May 8th this year and that makes it less than a month away. I have to find a victim, quick! No, really. Let me explain…

My mother passed away 7 years ago and because she has gone on, it doesn’t exempt me from honoring mothers all around me. There are single mothers who need encouraging, spiritual mothers who need honoring, sisters who have forgotten how awesome they truly are or maybe you’re a mother to orphans who simply needs someone to listen to what has happened in your day. The need is greater than we know.

I’ve heard it said that Mother’s Day is only a ‘Hallmark’ holiday and it doesn’t really matter that much but this couldn’t be further from the truth! It matters a lot. No, it doesn’t matter how the world celebrates or even doesn’t celebrate; WE are of a different kingdom and we know how important mothers are, right?!

Mothers are the very first teachers we have and they impart so much with their time, their love and their wisdom. Mothers are our first confidants and the first ones we run too when we are little. Remember those mashed up flowers we grabbed with our tiny little hands just so we could present them to our mommy’s? Remember how she kissed our owie’s away and everything was all better?

And when we are older and our relationships with our mothers were more than a little strained because WE knew absolutely everything and she was only trying to keep us from all that WE knew we could do. Right – even those days she was there; washing our sheets, making us meals and even praying for our safety and for wisdom to “please dear God” land on us! I know I wasn’t the easiest daughter to raise; maybe not the worst but in hindsight, I could have honored her more.

But this is not about regrets! NOPE. This is about loving and honoring the women who have raised us and mentored us. It’s also about those we came to depend on in our time of need. Let’s not let an opportunity pass to honor these great women. And you do realize,  whether a woman believes in Jesus like we do or not has nothing to do with it at the end of the day. Jesus knows her and He loves her well. We should also.

So, my challenge to you is this…

Find someone to honor and celebrate extravagantly this year. Take them to dinner, send them something in the mail, go clean their house or buy them flowers. And most importantly, tell them how much they’ve meant to you, how they’ve spoken into your life. How awesome they are!

And then, come back and share the testimony of how blessed they were by your kindness!

Easter feasting, another excuse to gather around the table

Spring has arrived here in Nashville. Fruit trees are in flower and the early spring bulbs are already poking up their heads. Did I tell you I love spring? Well, I do. Easter is just under 3 weeks away so I wanted to repost this from last year. Maybe it will encourage you to gather around the table with family and friends alike and have wonderful conversations!

The Table

Easter 4

I love spring. As a matter of fact, I love both transitional seasons; spring and fall. I only wish they lasted longer before the intense heat or cold sets in. In the spring all of creation erupts into song. The birds begin a new season of nest building and family growing. Nature awakens from the long winter sleep and flowers begin to pop up all over the place.

For me and our family, spring means Easter. And Easter means lamb. For years we celebrated the feast with baked ham like many others until one year, back in 1993 if I’m correct, I received my monthly Bon Appetite magazine. In it was a Greek Easter feast that I simply HAD to try. I used every single recipe for the meal and even added a Martha Stewart recipe for Spanakopita instead of just purchasing them at the store. I looked up a…

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Perfect Love

 

perfect love

ter·ror  ˈterər

noun  1. extreme fear.

Terror – to bring terror through intimidation and fear.

I’ve been thinking on the recent events happening in Paris and even other parts of the world. I’ve also been thinking about the word terrorist, which loosely means to bring terror through intimidation and fear.

It doesn’t take a big man to terrorize someone with a gun. No, that man, or woman for that matter, hides behind that weapon with the intent to use violence and threats to intimidate or coerce, to get their way.

I know this is a very simplistic view but I’m staying with this view for a reason; terror isn’t my focus. Love is my focus. Perfect love casts our fear…. terror.

With all the media outlets spewing s much coverage of what is going on and what they think is going on, I can only believe it is helping the terrorist to spread the terror to even more people. I’ve seen this happening even where I work. Yesterday, they turned the TV channel on to CNN and let it play for a while. All the numbers were listed as expected; how many dead, how many wounded, how many terrorist found, how many dead, etc. etc. While not burying my head in the sand, I did not allow the terror to enter into my spirit. That was not the case for other’s watching. I could see how terror was doing its work; how they were hanging onto every word the reporters were speaking as if this terrorist were on their very doorstep.

After the reports began looping, repeating the same information all over again, I suggested we change the channel and watch some football or something. But even after the news was turned off, the terror was doing its work, having its way; I could see it on their faces, on one person especially. She was terrified that this would happen to her. She felt she had no control over her life and was helpless. I think this is what scared her most. She kept talking about moving away to the ‘islands’ because for some reason this would be safer. There was no comfort I could give her because she was so terrorized that she convinced herself that it was inevitable, only a matter of time. She expected it to occur.

To me, this is exactly the work terror is trying to accomplish, and I think it’s winning, for now. We have to see a bigger picture, a truer picture and not be moved by this spirit.

Just like that day when we were all shocked to hear what it happened in France and what happened the night before in Beirut; it makes us afraid. We need to collect ourselves realize that God knows this is happening, and the reason this is happening is because there’s not enough love in the world. Yes, this is a rather simplistic view, but don’t we tend to over complicate things anyway?

This is about a love deficit and love is what will transform the world. This Love the world needs is a Person and this Person needs to be encountered. These terrorist need love, they just don’t know it yet. Of course I don’t condone what they do, but what they do shouldn’t make me hate them. Nope, instead it should move me to intercede for them.

I believe we all need to look at it this way. I think when these atrocities occur; we should grieve not only for the victims but also for the perpetrators. The focus of our prayers should be that love with fall down on them. That love would overcome their hatred and need to punish others who don’t believe as they do. Our prayers should be that Love would work through us to be the instrument of change the world so desperately needs.

And then I read this……

“After her son committed a horrific crime, Terri Roberts expected rage and calls for vengeance. What she was greeted with instead healed an entire community”

Full article here Forgiven (Follow link or copy and paste into your browser)

This is what Love looks like.