What Catches My Eye

What catches my eye? Where do I see Him?

In veils of mist.

The Artist wets His brush, dazzling the sky

with lilacs I cannot fathom. 

I wonder what colors await me at Home.
What prisms in the palate of Creation have eyes never beheld?

For now, I gaze and wonder.

There is song in the movement.

I breathe in the sweetness of His purity. 

I feel softness catching me.

~Holy Spirit~

I free fall into translucent poetry.

His beauty engulfs the horizon. I feel hope approaching.

There is tangible grandeur.

A palate of Power.

My Father laughs with me as I daydream.

I spot the familiar shapes of childhood.

He tells me a story.

I giggle.

It's our moment.

When storms approach, 

He commands the threatening winds. 

He is my Security. 

I may feel the rain, but...

...I hope...

...despite the colder clouds, which chill the skin, and chap the heart.

Without rain, life withers. Strength collapses.

Holy One, sweet Father,

breathe upon my wayward clouds of discontentment, pain...

...frailty.

Encompass me.

You build towers of 

strength from weak places.

A fortress of Grace.

The hopes You set in my heart will not fade into a vapor.

You hold the sky, and all that is within it.

You hold me.

Your Light explodes into brilliant rays of Sovereignty.

It is no wonder that You speak the loudest without words.

I look up to the sky and see gifts of Glory.

My Father is an artist.

The Author

Life's Poet.

Though He can be seen in the sky,

The sky is not His limit.

No limits for Eternity.

Until next time,

The Carpenter's Daughter

"I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you."

Isaiah 44:22

A June Song

Oh, how my Father sings to my soul!

I have so much to learn, yet He lovingly portions His lyrics 

to fit the symphony of my understanding.

I listen to the crescendo of the Holy Spirit's leading.

The music is deafening to my surroundings.

Distractions know not the chorus, yet my soul leans towards the music.

I close my eyes...

...and hum...

"Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts." Colossians 3:16


Until next time,
The Carpenter's Daughter

Breathe

Fear is a coward.

It crouches in the corners of Uncertainty.

It only knows fragile places,

and takes advantage of the softness therein. In doing so, it creates hardness. It breaks your knees; bones growing back stronger, only to be broken once more. You set your jaw in defiance, because Fear will no longer dominate...

...you swear it.

Then you fall again. This is where Despair ruins your footing. You can feel it pounding on your chest. It screams emptiness into Soul's cavern. You hear the echos. They bounce off the walls of Uncertainty.

But there is a Wind.

It winds its way through the crevices. You cannot breathe at first, but then you know...

...this is the first time you have breathed in a very long time. Maybe the first time ever.

Holy Spirit.

 You pant. You long. This is where the dry places are filled. This where you will find the strength to stand up, because...

...you are held by the Wind.

Everything beats on the door of your soul. Fear cowers, Despair screams, Uncertainty looks you square in the eye, but you hold your footing.

You are held.

Enveloped.

Breathe.

Breath upon breath...


Breathe.

There is singing on the other side of this. There is laughter. There will be joy in such abundance, that  Fear's storm will be stilled. It will only feel emptiness, because it's grip has been loosed. It will know total abandonment.


The Comforter has come.

You are not orphaned to Uncertainty.

You can breathe in the storm.

 

Until next time,
The Carpenter's Daughter

The Message

The Spirit of Truth

"If you love me, show it by doing what I've told you. I will talk to the Father, and he'll provide you another Friend so that you will always have someone with you. This Friend is the Spirit of Truth. The godless world can't take him in because it doesn't have eyes to see him, doesn't know what to look for. But you know him already because he has been staying with you, and will even be in you!  "I will not leave you orphaned. I'm coming back. In just a little while the world will no longer see me, but you're going to see me because I am alive and you're about to come alive. At that moment you will know absolutely that I'm in my Father, and you're in me, and I'm in you." John 14:16-18


"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will"
Romans 8:26-27 (NIV)

"And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever; even the Spirit of truth; whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but ye know him; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you. I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you."
John 14:16-18 (KJV)

I Wonder...

He sits on the porch, hammering away. Nails, clumsily digging their way into the heart of the wood.

"Look, Mom. I did this without nailing my hands, or my feet!"


I wonder...

Did Mary hear those words? Did she hear six-year-old Jesus say the very words that I just heard? Did she shudder to think that nails would scar those precious hands and feet? What would she have said to her little guy, hunched proudly over his project...

...working just like his earthly dad?

Beaming with pride, and innocence.

Did she look into his eyes and say, "Good job, Buddy!"

Did she tear up, or hold her eyes steady...

...reassuring.

This mom wonders...

Thank you, Daddy, for taking those nails for me. I never have to wonder where my security is fastened.

Instead,

I wonder...

...in the majesty of Your GRACE.

Luke 2:19
"But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart."

Isaiah 53:5
"But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed."

Until Next Time,

The Carpenter's Daughter

Father's Day Dance

 In every promise, I sway to the rhythm of Your mercies.

I sing praises into the canyon of Your Grace.

I know that, without fail, You are with me.

And I marvel at every footstep that I chase.

I want to dance in Your footsteps, Daddy.

I want to know every line on Your face.

Please, may I stand on Your toes, Daddy?

Though I stumble and fall, let me keep up the pace.

You alone know the steps, and the music.

I listen; try to learn every beat.

Please continue to give Light to the dance floor.

Waltz me right off of my tip-toes; my feet.

I want to dance in Your footsteps, Daddy.

I want to know every line on Your face.

Please, may I stand on Your toes, Daddy?

Though I stumble and fall, let me keep up the pace.

When the music slows down, and you know the words I can't speak.

Let the curve of your Arm hold me tightly, and sweet.

Together we dance, You and I, cheek to cheek.

Because it's not my words that matter...

...but the beat...

...of Your heart.

I want to dance in Your footsteps, Daddy.

I want to know every line on Your face.

Please, may I stand on Your toes, Daddy?

Though I stumble and fall, let me keep up the pace.

"'For in him we live and move and have our being.' As some of your own poets have said, 'We are his offspring.'"

Acts 17:28

I love you, Daddy,
The Carpenter's Daughter

Home

I cling, knuckles white, to the familiar. I pray feverishly that nothing snatches it away. I like stability, and sequential design.

Order.

In my house, one concern is carefully held up by the mortar of familiarity.

And so, the house is built.

As long as nothing changes, my house seems strong. No open windows. No drafts, or rain, or unforeseen pestilence.

I sit in my house, and wonder...

...how can it be so cold, with the windows clinging tightly to their frames?

I long for Home.

This is where I know I want to be. Not in a house. Not confined to one view, from a single window. I want to see more.


I must be broken...

 ...to see the beauty that lies before me.

Though, at times, I may be completely exposed to the elements, I am fully secure in the shadow of His wing.

This is where I find my Home.

"He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart." (Psalm 91:4)

"As for God, his way is perfect; the word of the LORD is flawless. He is a shield for all who take refuge in him." (2 Samuel 22:31)


Until next time,

The Carpenter's Daughter

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