Trust

Inadequate gratitude.  Yup.  Gotta be.

I find myself not trusting the goodness I see in my circumstances at the moment.  It is easy to manufacture a story that contradicts what I see.

My mind is too available to lies.  I am not busy enough recognizing grace and mercy, and expressing gratitude.  Ingrate!

I am not an ingrate.  I just do not have gratitude habits.  No.  I do not have adequate gratitude habits.

Enough analysis.

Daddy, thank you for loving me with the Blood of Jesus.  Thank you, Father for redeeming me from the mire.  Thank you finding me when I was not even looking for you.  Thank you for holding me while I struggle to prove you are faithless.  Thank  you for refusing to let me go back to my idols.

Thank you for flooding my life with things to be grateful for, so I can develop better and better habits of gratitude.

Thanks, Daddy.

What are we full of?

What am I full of today?  What will ooze out on those who I touch?  Wow.  Will I touch anyone today?  How about that.  I can be full of God and be of no particular Kingdom purpose.  Going to visit my sibs this week, so there is a chance there.

Am I still afraid the world will contaminate me?  Is that why I do not live like the King is at home?  Or am I afraid he is really not there?  Or do I really believe in a little god who is not able to save me, much less help them?  Either way, I am not repping the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob when I live this way...and I know better.

So habits and ruts are still in play.  Some days both feet are deep.  Some days maybe I have on foot in and one foot out.  Which can be dreadfully uncomfortable when the two paths diverge.  Which they do.  God has no reason to walk beside my rut.  My rut only leads down.

Father, you say that you restore my soul.  I receive and accept your word today.  Gather us under your wing, like chicks today. Remind us of what home is like.

Help me understand how to stay home and be in the marketplace.  Oh.  You will go to the marketplace with me, and I will be whole in your presence.  Okay.

Gratitude Grows with Gratitude

Gratitude grows with gratitude.

It is good to remember a gift. It is better to remember and express thanksgiving. The gates of grace open wide.

How the nations do rage. There was never just one moment of refusing to say thank you. Longstanding patterns of habit. Cultural disinclination toward gratitude expressed to God. Habits of thanking the wrong god. Habits of thanking, congratulating self. Habits of uttering acknowledgement of a god as the source, without any personal knowledge of the truth, making the utterance a rut. So habits grow with habitual steps, digging the rut ever deeper.

After a while, even thinking about gratitude, therefore thinking about gifts to be grateful for,brings the life of God. Or brings me to the spout where the Glory comes out. Walking in pursuit of living water and gratitude for it brings life. Seeing where life is touching darkness brings vision for restoration.

My God, you are good!

So close

This wilderness path requires clinging to Jesus. Today I found out that trail runs right on the edge of my old rut. At least it does right now. I had a foot slip off the edge today, and I was almost all of the way back in that old grave, walking by habit rather than by faith.

I have gotten accustomed to clinging to Christ, and that makes all the difference. Thank you, Father. Help me to become entirely dependent on You.

Coffee

In America, for the last ten years or so, coffee is the Christian drug. It is the acceptable drug.

I was giving some thought to how I would describe myself. I was reading Jo's facebook info, and she went to some length, with carefully chosen words, to help her readers understand where she was coming from. I realized that I had not crafted the same high value description, and I was stirred to that kind of thought.

The next thing that came to the surface is that I would say that I am a recovering addict. (It just took me five tries to correctly spell recovering, only one for addict. Hmmm) And not coffee. I have not forsaken coffee. Every seed bearing tree, you know.

I am recovering from addiction to my self. I would not be recovering if I did not have this Holy Wild in which to wander, clinging to my King. Born, I said within moments, "I want." In response, I received. So I tried again, for something else for me. And I received. Later, when I expressed my desire and did not receive, I learned to satisfy myself. It is not all bad. It just defines our humanity, without God. A need or want is perceived. We do what we need to to get satisfaction.

And there is a great defining moment. Getting satisfaction. Being satisfied. So long as I need to get satisfaction, I am feeding my soul to balm the aching places. I am self medicating, self comforting, self sheltering, self embracing. Now being satisfied is the entire difference. Being satisfied means that I am transformed. Satisfied is who I am. My needs are met and the desires of my heart do not originate in my aching, broken soul.

The habits of self care run very deep. The old path is a rut worn so deep that there was no self rescue available. Rescue was available, but accepting it required at least a moment of forsaking my effort.

The habits of self care run very deep. I am recovering. Just like the twelve-steppers who will never say that they are recovered, I will agree. I fall into the rut every day. Sometimes I stay there, immediately finding my hands on their old worn out tools, sure for a while that I will be able to get satisfaction on my own. My shepherd stands there patiently, not even clearing His throat to remind me that I need Him.

Then I realize where I am and what I am trying to do...look up...and reach up.

Thank You, Lord. You are Faithful and True. You restore my soul. You make me satisfied.

Fear Not

Fear can not exist in the Holy Wild. I may carry it into the Presence, but fear will not persist there.

If I have a habit of carrying fear, of giving fear a place of headship in part of my life, I can run and fight for a long time, and might not find the victory I need. I believe, in stead, I am going to go where it can not stay, and stay there long enough to break the habit. I am welcome, under the Blood of Jesus, in the presence of God. Fear, even a fear I would call my fear, firmly attached by long association, can not stay in the Presence of Love. Perfect Love casts out all fear.

Here in the Holy Wild fear holds no sway. Here in the Holy Wild I get distracted by adoration anyway. I am such a limited creature. I am only able to worship one god at a time. So I chose Big G and over time I forget the old tie, and the reason I came to fear in the first place.

Now I can show the face of fearlessness, and know what to say when someone asks why. Thank you, Father.