Wednesday, April 20, 2011

The One the Tomb Could Not Hold

Utterly detestable was I, as He looked down from the Cross into my eyes of betrayal.

Yet He still offered His forgiveness. He still laid down His life, willing to take the chance that I would turn and spit in His face. Rejection. Knowing that I had cast lots; crushed the thorns into His flesh.

I am a thief, a liar. I am not worthy to receive one drop of blood from His brow...

...yet, He covered me.

The stone was rolled away, so that I could see. I was not strong enough to roll away the sin; it's power so great I was entombed. Wrapped in strips of death. Filthy rags.

Not Him. The cloth that had wrapped His body was neatly folded. Abandoned by LIFE. Death could not bury the Everlasting.

I stood at the door of the tomb, crying. I knew that death had me in its grip. I had known the power it held over me. I knew I was next...

...and I could not roll any stones away on my own.

He replaced my rags with a robe of Grace. I am no longer staring into a tomb, but into the Eyes of Eternal Life. Into the eyes of my Father. My Abba...Daddy.

Covered in His blood, I have inherited a home. Instead of the entombment of stone, and death...

...I now stand on the Rock of Life.

Inside me is the Holy Spirit.

Behind me is the Cross.

Beside me is my sweet Savior.

Before me is the Light of Heaven.

Where do you stand?

I pray it's not looking down into the tomb, but looking up, gazing into the eyes Peace. He is The Protector. The Advocate. The One who offered forgiveness before we even knew we needed it. There is rest waiting for your weary soul. If you don't know where to go for Easter, go to the Lamb who was slaughtered in our place. The Shepherd who is drawing you to His side.

The One the tomb could not hold.

And he said to them, "Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen; he is not here. See the place where they laid him." (Mark 16:6)

Until next time,
The Carpenter's Daughter

P.S. I don't usually close with anything except Scripture, but the following quote is so beautiful, I just had to share:

"Nails were not enough to hold God-and-man nailed and fastened on the Cross, had not love held Him there."
~Catherine of Siena

Thursday, April 7, 2011

What Compels Me

Flowers call me to smell them.

I am drawn into the motion of a windmill. Stars inspire me to dream. I devour books; hungry to learn. A new recipe takes me on a journey.

What compels me?

When I look at artwork, I am like Alice in Wonderland. I fall in. My mind writes a story. I lived in the painting.

What inspires me?

Hummingbirds float dreamily. I wonder if they tire. They are sweet. They drink sweetness. Wings beating, hearts pumping. Beautiful.

Sickness is always near. I crawl through days. I soar through others. Darkness wants to swallow me, but I focus on Light. I am drawn to the heartbeat of my Savior. I rest in His rhythm.

How do I fall?

I have given Greed more than her fair share. She steals joy, while promising security. My hand holds my belongings. "Mine, mine, mine!"

My Savior prompts; I have no choice but to listen. I may resist for a time...

...but He compels me to give. Painful redemption. No peace until my hand is back into my Father's, and He leads me.

Devotion, self-denial, love for others...

...I am not compelled...

...on my own.

His love draws me in. The Holy Spirit blows out the dust. I am left breathless, holding on. Power. Strength. Mercy.

When my heart is focused on Him, I can look at the stars and dream.

The flowers bend their heads in prayer...

...they smell sweet.

"Christ's love compels us." (2 Corinthians 5:14)

Until next time,
The Carpenter's Daughter

Monday, April 4, 2011

Bird Song (Haiku for Sunshine)

Encouragement rings

Little bird sings life to me

Sweet song warms like sun

 Proverbs 27:9
"The heartfelt counsel of a friend is as sweet as perfume and incense."

Until next time,
The Carpenter's Daughter 

Sunday, April 3, 2011

To My Readers

Dearest friends,

Thank you so much for stopping by the Carpenter's Shop. If you have left me comments, and/or read my work, I am so honored. Thank you for taking the time to express your thoughts. I have tried to reply to each one of you, but it seems that my "Reply" button is not working. I will be looking in to this. In the meantime, please know that I do read all of your comments. May you be richly blessed, as you have so blessed me.

Until next time,

The Carpenter's Daughter

Proverbs 27:17
As iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend.

Friday, April 1, 2011


In the workshop, I do the same exact thing every day. I smell the same smells, touch the same materials, build the same projects, eat the same the same bench...

...and I wonder...

...does it matter?

Does it matter if I work feverishly towards the same goal, daily, with little result? One step forward, two steps back? Would anyone notice if I cut corners and used glue instead of nails?

In the saw dust, my Father's steps are beside me. I know that through every project He has been there guiding me. But I grow tired, and weak. I don't like the way my back aches, how exhausted I feel when the job is only halfway done. I really wish He would just finish it for me. He already knows how to do it...

...why must I always have to practice, practice, practice?

Splinters are annoying. I never learn, so I keep getting them. I forget to sand off the edges. I don't listen to my Father's words. I think I can smooth it out later; rush...

...yet, always...splinters.

I hold out my hand. He sees the flecks embedded in my flesh. I flinch, because I know what comes next...

...pain. Yet, He is so gentle.

We talk. We converse while the splinters are being pulled, and He asks, no PLEADS for me to come to Him BEFORE I am pricked, bruised, and injured. He loves our conversations, yet I choose to sit in solitude...

...because I rush.

Yet He just IS. Unmoving.

I move. I hurry. I count minutes.Work, work, work!


I close my eyes, and a soft wind sweeps through the cracks in the walls, and I feel it. The wood pile is warm in the sun, and I smell it...sweet. A bird trills, and I can almost feel the power of its wings. The back gate is whacking against the crooked fence, dancing to Summer. Sunflowers bend their heads, as I turn my attention to the window. Bees are buzzing, in search for honey. They are going about their business, not bothered by the confines of time. I reach for my lunch...

...and sit...

...and taste it.

...because I stopped.

My stool is next to my Father's. We work side-by-side. Right now, we are not working...

...we are talking. And laughter fills the workshop.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

Philippians 4:6
"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God."

 Psalm 46:10 (b)
"Be still, and know that I am God."

Until next time,

The Carpenter's Daughter