I am road weary. I fear this is going to be the norm for a while – possibly forever. I must have lived 1,000 years in a five mile radius. It seems I have lived void of experience and adventure, yet I am painfully old. There is also a fog on my heart, possibly my soul. It is clouding my vision and I feel confused. I cannot put my finger on it. I am uncertain of the ugly sin in my heart. I know the blackness resides and I justify its presence with a warm inviting kiss.

Confusion; it haunts and it bleeds in my being. I know God is not a God of confusion, so it must be me? Guilt is a weighty thing. Conviction and instruction are easier yokes to bear.

I tried today…In my power…Ever in my power…Never ending…confounding… in my power! Heart racing…mind numb…Jesus, they see the faker. Trying too hard…be quiet…don’t speak…need to look good.

God, thank you! Thank you for honesty. Thank you for using the heart of women. Thank you for the questions and whether I receive them or not you hold the answers. Some questions are better not answered anyway.

Fear of being left out.

I am SO weary.

I am staring at my quote calendar, reading the words I posted in my last blog:

My ego is like a fortress.

I have built its walls stone by stone

To hold out the invasion of the love of God.

But I have stayed here long enough.

There is light over the barriers.

O my God… I let go of the past,

I withdraw my grasping hand from the future,

And in the great silence of this moment,

I alertly rest my soul.

                                                                          Howard Thurman


“I alertly rest my soul.” This sentence alone is powerful. I am aware I am a mess that I can never be put back together on my own. I will just keep shattering the pieces until they are grains of sand. Yet, even if I do that, God will gather all the pieces and He won’t just put them back together, but He will make something new and refined with them.


I will not do this. I will not make myself look good. I will not feel ashamed.


As my beautiful breathtaking friend Teresa tells me, often, “serve from your love.”


Oh Lord, My God,

You are a living breathing hedge around me. My heart has been ripped open and the blackness has just spilled out. It is pouring, draining, confusing, scary, uncertain, painful, and sacrificial. I love that you are the one that cuts the crud out. I love that you are the great Stonecarver. I love that you whittle out the stone, often taking more, because what you have to fill it back up with is always more. It is richer, more permanent, more fulfilling, more sacred and sure. It consumes and spills out of this cracked alabaster refined in your fire. Refine me, until I am nothing but a vessel that reflects your love. Satan has taken, because I have allowed him to do so, what you created in me, the thing which was good, and turned it sallow. My giving heart, compassionate spirit, and true caring nature are all things you planted in me to do your strong and mighty will. And yet, I use them for my glory instead of yours. Yet, I thank you for using me in spite of myself. I am thankful you care too much about my character to leave me in the shape I am in. Oh, great Craftsman, you already have the finished product in mind. May I be willing clay in your hands so you will not have to pull out the exacto-knife and begin to cut away the unusable. I want to be used for your glory. I want to love people and let them see their beautiful breathtaking worth.


But, enough about me…it seems to be all about me. Repentance is not a onetime thing, but a daily choice to turn our hearts to Mt. Calvary and not to Mt. Sinai. You do not want our sacrifice…you want us.


Jesus forgive me…Lord Jesus forgive me! I love my idols more than you. I seek what you might provide for me instead of you.


I pray for these women that are going through the Idol Lies Bible Study. I pray transformative things will happen in their lives. I pray stones are cast out and new treasures are installed. I pray for women that will live in freedom and reflect the light of You. I pray for the Balm of Gilead to come and heal. Jehovah…Yeshua…we cry “HOSANNAH!” Let it be both our prayer and praise!


Still confused, weak, uncertain, keeping my mouth closed, opening my heart, loving with my soul, hands, and feet, and kneeling in repentance…

                                                                        Lord Help Me!!!



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