I had a conversation with a friend then read another of my
‘devo’s’ and then God put it together for me.
I’ll put them together for you
here, and what He said to me through it at the bottom....
Sent to RH this
morning:
I've written to RH before, followed this ministry with a
heart full of hope. Finally, freedom and love as He presented it. On my way to
work this morning I was thinking of the crowds that followed Jesus. They didn't
get it. They followed Him for what He could give them, healing, food, etc. And
of course they would. But how many of them followed Him for His heart? How
many truly desired to know Him and love Him for who He is? It occurred to me
that we've been doing the exact same thing, only we've put 'salvation' on the
same level as the gifts of healing and food by 'worshiping' Him for His gift of
salvation. It hit me like a ton of bricks. How we are still worshiping the
gift rather than the giver in this. My Jesus is more than a sacrifice for my
sins. That is only one of the gifts He has given me. It's a huge gift, but it
is not who He is. And I think of His heart and what He has felt from the
generations of people who are still not seeking the truth, His heart, who He
really is. How it must break for His desire is not just to be our Savior. His
desire is to have our hearts. And once again we're the Pharisees rather than
true disciples and friends. Much less the lovers that He desires. I repent for
worshiping the gift rather than the giver, yet again. But I think that this too
is a process, growing to see Him through His gifts, realization that there is a
reason, that the heart behind those gifts is drawing drawing drawing us closer
to His purpose.
Thank you for the eye opening revelations into His heart. I
cannot express how much my life has been impacted. I look and pretty much act
the same. But my heart is forever changed as I open more and more of it to Him
and allow His love to penetrate into its depths.
I am so unbelievably blessed to be here, in this place of my
heart, finally after a lifetime of looking for love.
Jeanne Robinson
Yours in His love.
Conversation after that was
sent:
isn't it interesting that
the whole world is operating on the premise that knowledge will make everything
better
as if that first bite in
the garden was good and right
we have not learned our
lesson yet
yes,
exactly. His momma knew who he was
yes she did
and His
friends
now, there are a few of
us as well
I don't know
why Mary has been on my mind so much lately, except that I feel hers was such a
huge sacrifice ... almost as important as His. To know who your child is, what
his purpose is ... to let him go ...
so very
hard
yes
it is so very true that
to see our children suffer is far worse than suffering ourselves
yet
she knew
yes
He was eternal
life
I understand
now why she is revered, ya know?
yes
and it
wasn't because she was chosen to carry him
right
it was
because she knew who He was
she was
strong
she had to be
yes
she did not know the
specifics or how much pain it would cause her, the hard choices she would have
to make, yet she humbled herself to His will
women's strength is
something else
yep. she
understood True Love.
and we share that
insight
we see ramifications of
situations without thinking
we know that there is a
cost to our hearts
yet for the greater good
we give
we give in and allow the
pain
and we pay that
price
watching something on TV
last nite was like a brighter light going off
I saw a woman's
strength
I saw it
it is a deep stab to our
heart, the nurturing loving part of us, to allow pain to those we love, knowing
it is for the best,
is so much more painful
than they can ever know
until one day they have
the same choice to make
and we carry those scars,
as evidence of the greater love we have for them
that choice, given our
hearts for relationship, was so great
I see Mary
as God's perfection of Eve. How Eve was intended to be.
I can see
that
She trusted
Him, totally.
Yes, and in a world that
she would most certainly be killed for being pregnant unmarried was so much more
than we - now days - can fathom....
maybe in the middle east
it is easier to see
yep.
strong.
Chosen.
it was - I don't think -
a simple obedience on her part
there was more behind it
than that
she had real love for
God
ya know?
oh
yes.
otherwise she could never
have agreed
He seeks those whose
hearts are His
to do His
will
and we must love Him
enough to make those decisions based on our understanding of His love for
us
to rise up
each day with Thank You Lord on your lips, and a poised sword in your
hand
yes
and along with that
sword, a heart bare and open
like walking around
naked
heck
no!
that's it
no one wants to be
exposed
well, maybe
to Him, but I wear a breastplate
yes, to Him
that's what I
mean
and also to other
people
if we hide our hearts,
how can they see Him in us?
ya know?
the pain of exposure,
unsure of the outcome of being exposed, fear could be so
overwhelming
through our
eyes we reflect love and compassion
those in
need will SEE
with open
hearts
it is the
heart
that is the
key
oh
yes.
the key to
the kingdom of Heaven
thinking about my
mom
how
in order to reach her I
must open my heart up to possibly painful things
allow her to see me as I
truly am
surely she
can see the changes in you, Jeanne ...
in such a
short time
idk
idk if she is
looking
your "need"
to have a helpmate ... has been replaced with calm assurance that you DO have a
helpmate ... the greatest and most desirable husband EVER
great love requires great
expression
sacrifice, the sacrifice
of allowing my heart to be open
yes
you're so
funny
women are not the ones
that need, or even desire a helpmate. hahaha.
we in our deepest heart
want to be that helpmate. but it's not the right translation.
I was
thinking about Nuns. I know that's extreme, but it's kinda how I
feel.
yes a Nun
bride of
Christ
yes
a good
thought
but a bit off
track
and yet, not
you know that the word
that has been translated into 'helpmate' is the word for the Holy
Spirit
yes!
and it's used in the
sense of someone that is needed in the life and death circumstances of
life
the 'rescuer' would be a
better word
as I think of
man
and what his need
is
it is for a
rescuer/nurturer
someone to bring
life
someone to make life have
depth
who is strong enough to
be vulnerable
allow her heart to be
open
that is true
strength
that is the 'submission'
that they mean I think
it has everything to do
with the heart
funny that now the bible
and everything in it I’m seeing through the lens of the heart
inside to out
everything is a
reflection, derivation, result of the heart and where it is
so much...
being taught to be tough,
bury my heart, rule, don't give in
just the opposite of the
way it should be
we've messed
it up since the beginning
the toughness comes from
knowing – it’s a heart exposed and open in spite of the pain that is absolutely
sure to be there
Devo read after
conversation:
Wrestling the
tree
November 30,
2011
I do the
same thing every year. Envisioning a tall, sturdy, fresh-smelling fir tucked in
the
corner
of my living room, I do serious recon on where the most reasonably-priced,
healthy specimen can be found, and make the annual expedition to the tree lot.
Then, after looking at and handling no less than a dozen viable candidates, I
select one tree to take home with me. I choose a lot that will trim the trunk,
hoist it to the top of my car and tie it down, but after that it's a
do-it-yourself deal all the way home and beyond.
At some
point every year I also acknowledge this universal truth: setting up a Christmas
tree is no one-man (or in my case, one-woman) job.
I could
ask for help. But there's something about the maddening, me-and-the-tree duel
that suckers me in almost every time. I see no reason why I shouldn't be able to out-wit,
out-maneuver and out-muscle the process and the tree, whose size I almost
always regret as soon as I've gotten it home. (A Charlie Brown "sympathy tree
picker" I am most decidedly not.)
Along
the way, I've learned a few tree-toting lessons that have proved helpful.
Rolling the tree off your car from the side is far safer than grasping the base
of the trunk and pulling it toward you. (Don't ask.) Putting the stand on the tree while it's
horizontal is infinitely easier than placing the tree in the stand while you're
trying at the same time to keep it vertical. And, a kind of "walking hug" is the
safest (albeit most awkward) way of getting said tree through whatever doorway
you've selected as your initial point of entry.
I
wrestle a Christmas tree only once a year. But it's
really about me-and-the-tree all year long. The tree
I wrestle daily is my own cross, which I've been commanded to take up and carry
with me, welcoming every opportunity to climb upon it often and allow myself, my
wants, and my will to die.
The
cross is a tree I both love and struggle against. I love its complex beauty, and
I struggle against its simple invitation. I love its power, and struggle against
its authority. I love its mercy, and struggle against its grace. It's not easy,
this wrestling with the tree. Dietrich Bonheoffer once said "When Christ calls a
man, he bids him come and die." And why shouldn't He ask it of me? He's already
done that very thing Himself.
I may
resist much-needed help with my Christmas tree. But I'd be a fool to resist
much-needed help with my cross. (Even Jesus had help to carry His.) And
thankfully - when I've overestimated my own ability or strength or resolve, or
when the whole cross-carrying process has left me exhausted and scraped up and
scarred, the One who's gone before me sees my struggle, and says with patience
and with aching empathy, "Lovely, lovely tree. But it's quite big, and you're so
small. Will you let Me help you with that?"
I will.
Oh yes, I will.
"He
forgave us all our sins, having cancelled the written code, with its
regulations, that was against us and that stood opposed to us; he took it away,
nailing it to the cross. And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made
a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross." (Colossians
2:14-15, NIV)
[Wednesday words from
Leigh ©Leigh McLeroy, 2011]
The light bulb came
on:
How funny – the way that the Holy
Spirit directs our thoughts and leads us into truth.
Taking up my cross, laying aside
myself. I used to think of that as a sacrifice that called for me to stop being
who I am. Kind of like becoming a zombie or puppet for Jesus. Deny all that He
has made me, and become an ‘imitator’ of Christ meant to stop being me and
become Him somehow. (never could figure out how that could be done)
But today I realize that as a
woman (cause I don’t know how as a man this works) – but as a woman, my strength
comes from my heart.
Love gives me the strength to allow
pain in and allow myself to be exposed because of the greater love that comes
from it.
And to take up my cross, means to
open my heart – to be vulnerable to what will surely happen as a person who
loves in spite of the danger of the resulting fear, mistrust, anger, and
potential rejection. As a woman, relationship means more than everything else,
and to risk the hurt or loss of a relationship with anyone is to risk the
ultimate.
So opening my heart – exposing my
deepest desires and needs and even joys – opens a door to allow for pain.
But it also opens the door for
others to see the real reason for His sacrifice. It opens the heart of Him
through me. It is the ultimate love, as a mother, a daughter, as a friend,
allowing another’s heart to see mine so as to share completely.
That is the cross I must carry, the
sacrifice is laying down the desire to ‘protect’ my heart from pain and
rejection, to allow exposure in the depths of who I am.
And they were naked and
unashamed.
That is how we were meant to
be.
If I know His heart, His intent,
His depth of love for me, it is not so much a sacrifice or even obedience, but
an honest reaction to Him.
Blessings,
Jeanne
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