For this is what the high and lofty One says— 
       he who lives forever, whose name is holy: 
       “I live in a high and holy place, 
       but also with him who is contrite and lowly in spirit, 
       to revive the spirit of the lowly 
       and to revive the heart of the contrite
Isaiah 57:15

As part of the Bible study that I am working through (Seeking Him), I was directed to Isaiah 57:15. I would recommend reading that again, slowly, deliberately.

The Almighty lives way up there (waves generously toward the heavens) but also with those who are contrite and lowly in spirit in here (gestures toward heart). 

So, I ask myself, “am I contrite?” Do I even know what that means? I think I do, until I dig into the Greek. You see, in my mind “contrite” equaled “sorry.” Sorry for my sin, yes, but if I am really brutally honest with myself more often than not I’m just sorry that whatever it was happened to be sinful. I’m just sorry that my conscience, or even more strongly– the Holy Spirit, convicted me. I’m just sorry that I have  to say “sorry” again.

But in the Hebrew, contrite is *Daka’ which means crushed, broken, shattered.

Am I crushed by the fact of my sin? Does it break me? Am I shattered with sorrow over the fact that I still struggle with some of the same areas of sin in my life? Still? After all of these years?

To be honest, to my natural self, denial sounds easier to maintain than that kind of contrition. Sounds, or seems, but it is not. I think I’ve experienced enough denial to know that it is the power behind the whirly-gig that sends me flipping out of control. The fact is– no, the PROMISE of this Word is–that God Himself dwells in and with us in our brokenness before Him. Without that level of shattered submission, we miss out on a portion of His glorious presence.

The portion we miss? The essence of Himself that revives us. In the original language, revive is *Chayah, which means to be quickened, sustained, restored (from sickness, discouragement, faintness). 

I cannot grow, until I am crushed. We cannot be sustained, until we are poured out.  We are not going to experience restoration until we have been shattered. A million little pieces of our pride sprayed all over the altar. 

Contrite hearts are hard to come by in this day. Pride infects even the most devout among us.  Humility is often seen as weakness. But I hear the heart of my Father saying, “Let me dwell with you.” I hear Him calling me to be weak so that He can make me strong. I hear Him reaching for, and calling out to me…still I’m farther than I want to be from His face, from His touch.

So call me broken. Sweep up the shards of my Self. Watch as I am crushed under the weight of all that is not right between me and Him. Then, by His grace and love, watch Him dwell here with me.  

*edited to correct the original language from Greek to Hebrew.  (I kinda giggled at that)

I failed at my caffeine free lifestyle.

I was totally thrown for a loop when I had a discussion with someone I value and trust about the struggles I was going through trying to quit caffeine. A question was posed to me that I couldn’t answer with conviction. That question being: WHY, exactly, did you decide to quit. I had a lot of this reason/that reason little answers. And at one point, I thought I knew that God wanted me to stop drinking all caffeine all of the time. But the more I prayed about it (after this discussion) the more I came to understand that maybe I was being convicted of how much I was drinking it, how dependent I became on it, how addicty my thoughts were toward it. But I didn’t sit in that conviction long enough to hear His solution. You see, for someone like me (an tried and true “all or nothing” thinker), it’s an easier thing to eliminate something entirely from my life than to regulate it. I’d rather go without than have to limit my intake, I guess.

I have, for the past week or so, been allowing myself caffeine in the morning. As in, with my Bible Study time…the biggest area of struggle and pain for me since I quit. I have a mix of roughly 75% decaf/25% regular coffee that I drink. I have roughly the equivalent of .5 to 1 full cup of regular coffee during the course of my quiet time.

And then, I try to stop.

I try to stick to decaf beverages the rest of the day. Sometimes I am more successful than others. And mostly it’s still a rough task. Self-regulation is NOT MY STRENGTH, obviously.

In the midst of this new Bible Study I am doing, I’m directed to pray the prayer of Psalm 139:23-24. “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me and lead me in the way everlasting!”

When I pray this prayer, nothing about my current level of caffeine consumption comes up on my spiritual radar. Plenty of other things, to be sure, but not one single twinge of conviction about my one cup in the morning.

Have I truly learned to self-regulate? NO. The urge to drink more and more coffee follows me around like a mewling hungry stray. I’m not sure if this is really the lesson I want to learn right now (seeing as how there are so many other things came up during my Psalm 139 prayer that I could work on), but apparently I am going to learn it.

I am still quite disturbed by the connection (unintentional) between coffee and Bible Study. As in, my Bible Study time is severely compromised without that one cup. And I am still struggling with the delicate balance of walking in true freedom and legalistically dealing with my weaknesses. It’s all a big jumbled mess in my head right now.

But I’m also seeing quite a bit of humor in this situation. To wit: I received three coffee cups as gifts for my birthday. Okay, one of them I designed at one of those Paint-your-own-pottery places. So I now have in my possession an original swirly work of art mug, a “life is good” mug, and a caffeine molecule mug. If I were a sign seeker, would I need much more than that?

Eighteen years ago today, I celebrated my twentieth birthday by giving birth to Firstborn.

Never in a million years would I have thought that it would go by so fast…this growing up that she did.

I am so very proud of the person she is, and so excited to see who she is becoming. I’ve never ever had a better birthday “present” than the honor of being entrusted with her as she grew up.

Happy Birthday, girl.

I love you dearly.

What if your current struggle, the one that truly breaks your heart, is the very one that ushers in your breakthroughs?

As most of my readers are painfully aware, I’m in a bit of a slump. I’m in a dry spell that seemed to be initiated by what I thought was an act of obedience. Which, to tell you the truth, makes me more than a little bit crazy. Questions that result from my limited vision are disturbing: Did I hear the wrong Word? Did I run off with a half-way Word? Did I miss His leading completely? Have I finally tipped over the edge into full blown insanity?

If you have ever suffered depression, or depressed tendencies, this will strike a chord with you. My reaction to this experience has run the gamut of full of faith, to full of doubts. Sometimes within minutes of each other. On the one hand I mourn, on the other I deny the death. My faith is perforated by the shrapnel of doubts.

Sow for yourselves righteousness,
reap the fruit of unfailing love,
and break up your unplowed ground;
for it is time to seek the LORD,
until he comes
and showers righteousness on you.
Hosea 10:12

If I were honest, I’d have to admit the soil of my spirit has become “unplowed.” Mine has been the ground of winter. MIne has been the hard-packed field that basically is laid waste for the off-season. Mine has been the hard packed dirt floor.

Hosea tells me to break that up. To till, plow, rake, hoe, fertilize and whatever other metaphor you can think of that represents preparing my heart to receive. It’s time. My dry season should be ending because my Word today has instructed me to ready myself. It’s time.

Open the floodgates of heaven,
Let it rain! Let it rain!

Michael W. Smith (watch the whole thing, beautiful!)

God has been speaking to me through others, there is change coming. Big change. I have no clue. I want specifics, the details that would counter my anxiety. I want to know His plan (perhaps I don’t trust that it is a good one? Again, the doubts). If God were to rain those down on the hardness of my heart right now, what would happen?

Have you ever spilled out a bucket of water on ground that was packed down? Ever watch the runoff? Think about fully prepared soil…what happens then? I’ll tell you what happens: MUCH MUCH MORE IS SOAKED IN.

Hosea tells me to seek Him until He comes.

Do not stop.

Do not ever stop. Keep plowing. Keep tilling. Keep turning my heart over, trusting that He will come. Hosea doesn’t say that if we do this work He MIGHT come. He says, do this preparation and HE WILL COME.

Do not stop. Don’t ever stop seeking Him.

If you are anywhere near Dublin VA, I’ll be facilitating this Bible Study at Valley Harvest Ministries during Wednesday School. I’d love to see you there.

While I was on the phone with a friend, Fourthborn and the Boy were roudy and loud. Fourthborn especially enjoyed just screaming everything she said at the top of her lungs. The scene is that I had just hung up the phone.

Fourthborn: Would you help me put this on? (T-shirt in hand)

Me: (Wrestling her into the shirt) What is up with all that screaming, ya little monster?!??!

FB: I not a monster….I an ANGEL.

Me: (stunned silence)

FB: …A SCREAMING ANGEL!!!!! (about-face, screeching out of the room)