One Thing I have desired of the LORD, That will I seek: That I may dwell in the house of the LORD All the days of my life, To Behold the beauty of the LORD, And to inquire in His temple. Psalm 27:4
Showing posts with label Jesus is the answer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus is the answer. Show all posts
Monday, January 23, 2012
I am a REAL Bunny ...and so is she...
Oh, little Velveteen Rabbit...its not like I'm mad at you or anything...but...living your story is heavy sometimes...I don't want another one...I'm just saying,
"Ouch, it HURTs to be a bunny."
And I hope I do not offend you when I let you know that I have decided that I am not going to take your definition any more as a statement for my life as an adoptive mommy.
Did you not say,
"Real isn't how you are Made, It is a thing that happens to you."?????
There, I SAID it.
I AIN'T REAL cause of my difficult circumstances
or in the moment that the beloved child whispers it in my ear.
What "happens" to me does not make me.
I am not a product of the days events --be they pleasant or hard, or of my thoughts and expectations, or of fleeting feelings from one day to the next.
I am not what the other "bunnies" say I am
or who I am in those little eyes...
Or What I sometimes see when I look in the mirror on an especially hard day...
You didn't get it completely ,Velveteen Rabbit---although I just love you so...
Cause I find my Wisdom in another book...in another story...of a young, perfect KING who came from a far off heavenly land...He left His Father's house...to come and find this ole bunny...to find me in the garden...all dishelved and burnt on the rubbish heap...He found me in my helpless failings...and while I was quite lifeless and stuffed with sawdust and other junk...
He stooped down to make me REAL..
to BREATHE REAL Life into me
and He tells me...He has begun to show me that...
Oh, His promises are much GREATER than those nursery promises little rabbit...
I am alive, I am REAL because of ONE who burns with Life and Hope on my insides.
I am a REAL Bunny.
And here is a secret my gentle little friend,
Your story does not end with becoming a real bunny.
REAL BUNNYS Hurt.
And there is a Bunny Shepherd who has ointment for our wounds.
Now you will know thirst and hunger...
But there is the gardener in the midst of the bunnies who IS the living water AND the Bread that brings life...
You will have an awareness of dangers...you will have to be a little warrior
but He will cover you with His great big shield, and under it you will find security and victory.
for Real Bunnies still have fire to go through...beyond the bonfire of the toy pile...
But it is REFINING fire.
And it really is O.K.
For once this type of grooming session is over, and I have been through so many lately little rabbit,
You will find that "toy fur" burnt off to reveal...not a Real "me" but "Christ IN me...the HOPE of Glory".
Behold, the new WILL come, little bunny...
My Story
O.K....Here is my very real story from last week. I want you to to have this view so that you may know a bit more how to love and support adoptive moms. Perhaps know how to more fully love an adoptive child? And if you are "stuck" in suffering...that Jesus is your answer to. There IS hope for you, my friend..
First, the REAL High
We hit the highs and the lows here at the Tucker house last week. We celebrated an 11th birthday, my husband experienced a wonderful first week of continued training for ministry, and my children all had an unusual blessing of encountering God at school all week in their assembly times...God was especially present and visited the kids with much power and joy...true revival broke out this week among the students. The joyful worship rocked their building and broke out of the assembly time so that for three days, the schedule of classes were pushed back as the kids experience the fresh presence of God in Worship,prayer, and in God's movement on them in restoration and in healings. More, Lord! I love that He broke this out among children--it has been so powerful!!
There were kids that were delivered of self-hatred. There were kids that wept over love for God. There was prayer for our city, prayer for our nation. Adoration, Worship. They prayed over each other for hours. Joy came. So did travailing prayer. These kids have been crying out for God to visit them. He came.
[Our Ashley and friends this week]
This is what "revival" looks like. and He started with the children--how like Jesus who put children before Him and instructed us to look like them!
Genuine revival has Christ walking within it. "The Hope of Glory" changes our lives...He truly does. The kids all of them--carried this home and our home was been so full of the tenderness of the Holy Spirit's love. It was one of those weeks, so full of glory that it takes your breath away...
To add, the children's school was not the only place where God was blessing His people in this way last week. As Richard came home from his Bible classes and from the prayer room at International House of Prayer the SAME wave of God's presence and love was moving in his classes and in the prayer room. All classes were cancelled so that they could just move into a solemn assembly and worshiped with expectancy.
There was MUCH JOY on the mission's base. Healing was a part of God's strong presence in our midst. Richard was blessed with actually seeing God's power move in love in this way. On Saturday, Richard was ministering at our Saturday service. He was laying hands on and praying for anyone who had a need. There was a man who had a condition with his hands that he had had for over ten years, it made his hands gnarled and curled up with pain. As Richard prayed for him, the man's hands began to straighten! The two men joyfully continued on asking for Jesus' healing until Richard watched the man's hands relax and straighten. It was powerful~ the man felt so loved~ and this was only one of the miracles that swirled around us this weekend!
In the Midst of the Garden...
With all this beauty...that we have asked for, fasted for...pressed into God in prayer for...and as we saw it breaking out....you would think we would have been immune from any pain or trial last week.
NOPE
It made me a TARGET for attack...and since our enemy is not fair and is a MEAN BULLY he targeted my adoptive mother's heart and my little bunny, Ava.
You see, if Jesus was breaking out...if so many kids were getting delivered and this is truly what Mama Gillian has been declaring with much strength lately...then a surprise attack...could it knock her down so that she and Ava might not receive the promise of healing all around them?...
Nothing happens to me that does not pass through my loving Father's hands.
and like I said above, my circumstances do NOT determine who I am or what my destiny is. But OH, this does not take the pain away as you walk through the fire...
Thursday could not have been sweeter...Anderson made sure all the other siblings felt included in his celebrations and it was Ava who got to share about her brother who tickles her and makes her feel "all loved and tickley" we laughed and played and ate too much cake...and after the party there were snuggles for little girls and a book read by an older sister and a special connection at Bible time and singing that blessed us all...
Kids were excused to get on jammies before one last game before bed...and as our little happy bunny went downstairs...
A serpent was waiting...
and a lie was hissed in her ear...
It may have been something like,
"Are you REALLY part of this loving family?"
"Is this REAL?"
"Come on, are you a REAL Bunny? Who do you think you are?"
And my little bunny looked down at something that she considered to be shabby...and then she tore up her little girlie room.
I was setting up the game, that is one of my little bunny's favorites, and as she entered the room she declared in a really loud, kind of overly cheerful way,
"OH, I HAVE IT ALL FIGURED OUT."
"YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM!"
she turns to the other adoptive child in my home who had just had SUCH a normal, great day...and birthday days can be a trigger for him so this was a huge victory for him and that tongue that lied to her now lied to him,
"MOM IS OUR SECOND MOM. SHE IS NOT REAL"
... and words, what are they?
They could have been passed for childish expression until..
They continued and continued for the rest of the night...
until...I went down to get something for my bunny and I saw the ripped up bunny's nest downstairs in her room.
A firey dart tried to find its way into my Mother's heart...this is familiar war ground...
familiar battle over the identity of this little soul, and who she is
familiar battle over who I am as her mother...
and all I could say, inside my heart in that moment was,
ouch. OUCH! OUCH!!!!!
I tucked my bunny in bed with many kisses and prayed fervent, silent prayers in the only name that has true power, Jesus' name over her.
Sword, Shield...Engarde!!
Oh it's ON, serpent. This mama bunny is a warrior bunny!!
And yet, the words picked on me as I went about my chores..I carried them into prayer ..and they bothered me through the night..
Friday morning is a work morning for me at my children's school. I LOVE my job! I am the school's librarian. I joke with my husband that I'm the fun kind of Librarian not the bun kind!!
Friday, my bunny and I spent the morning getting the house in order and then driving to work. All morning long I was followed literally around by my bunny who repeated over and over that I was not REAL and that our family was not REAL. I am not exaggerating that EVERY word that came out of my little girl's mouth was on this subject of REAL. It was wild and I was acutely aware I was under attack and that so was my little bunny. I tried leading her into a loving conversation about her birth mom , tried to trace her story with her...but none of this satisfied. hiss,hiss,hiss....it was continuous in her ears that morning...poor little bunny...and all the language was a searing wound in my heart...
I cannot express how intense some of these times are with our adoptive children as they wrestle and rework the puzzle of who they are.
..the problem arises when not all the puzzle pieces can be found...then what???
And the question of this morning was, "am I REAL?"
"am I REALLY in a forever family?"
am I REALLY a blood daughter, loved like all the rest in this nest?"
...And the question intended for me was,
"Has everything you have poured into this child...
...all the "hair falling off" REALLY MADE ANY DIFFERENCE?..
ALL those times you served and laid it all down...
ALL those prayers...
all the trust you believed to be building up...where is that now???
...Listen, here she is declaring right now that
'any mother could be her mother after all'
and that
'maybe we should get some more moms for our family, or another mommy for us wouldn't that be better?'.
and' living here is o.k. but...'
..Have you REALLY become her mother?"
The language and the questions continued...but as I turned off the car in the parking lot of school, something turned on inside of me. It was a declaration.
"This is attack and for Ava's sake and mine I am going to make a stand. I am going to RESIST this until it flees from her and from me today. There is a victory coming for this little girl. I'm not backing away. I see this for what it is, attack. I'll stand and wait for deliverance." Sometimes, as the Word says, all we can do is "stand"...
It wasn't over yet
As we walked into the building and talked to a lovely friend at the sign in desk I felt nauseous. My stormy day did not seem to "fit" with the revival that was going on in the building...or maybe it was perfectly fitting!!...it was 11a.m. and I still heard the vibrations of worship from the teenagers coming through the walls next to the auditorium as I made my way to our little library...
As I turned on the light and started to re shelve books I felt overstimulated among all the books...
One of the administrators, who I love, suggested I display the books that day in a way that would draw the children's eye more. I started turning the faces of the book covers around to greet and face the children...while I worked...my bunny was at my side...the subject was the same one as the rest of the morning.
Wow, was this truly going to last ALL day?
A lady popped her head in the library and greeted us. The distraction was wonderful! As I shelved, we visited a little...
"How are you?""
I wanted to shout, I"M TERRIBLE!! and scream and tell her that I feel like the WALKING WOUNDED...don't you see my head wound? Can't you SEE it?...but I was held back...and this was good for...
You would not believe the next question that came out of this well-meaning mouth...I don't fault her...like Peter, we can say glorious mysteries that are right on in one minute and then in the next , if not dialed in and listening to God's voice ...out of that same mouth...we can say words tailored by the enemy...
"Hey, I've been meaning to ask you,
How many REAL kids do you have?"
Oh no, you didn't!!
Oh, yes, she did.
It was that kind of a moment.
It was that kind of a day...and this was the PERFECT fire for my heart.
"Well," I looked down at the books in my hands, and then over at my bunny,
"I have SIX REAL KIDS, right, Ava honey?"
Ava came over and clung on my leg.
{People,people... please NEVER ask this question to an adoptive mom and especially in front of her child!!}
But I knew why I was getting the question...and I was going to keep standing until I saw Jesus step in and bring HIS message to my little girlie and my heart that day.
We dove into our little project and then had the LOVELY distraction of six classes worth of students coming through the room. Ava played mommy to her dollies and pretended at my feet and looked through books and hugged sweet children who I helped to match with books. Its a great job! I took it because I believe that finding the right book is all about blessing that child's uniqueness and identity. I have prayed that the children who find their way into the library will also be blessed by love's presence through Jesus' simple love through me and that they may walk out confirmed of their beauty as hearts are revealed as they choose their books...
That the Librarian and her child were needing confirmation this day was and unexpected turn of events among the collection of books..
As one group of students went out, the books needed refreshing...more needed to be pulled out and displayed..and I was handed this returned book...that had just made its way back to needing to be reshelved.
It was the Velveteen Rabbit.
The more I live in Christ, the more I find that He, the most beautiful of authors, writes my life in just this way.
"Hello, sweet Jesus, this is from you." my heart prayed.
It was a beautiful edition of a well-loved classic that I have read over and over and mulled over through my years. Recently I have found that not only I but my adopted children as well identify with this little rabbit...
I had just a moment to "pet" the beautiful pages of the book ~ if you love to read you know of which I speak! ~ and then I propped it open to the page of the little bunny, REAL and dancing all among the other real bunnies.
"In your name, Jesus, this is who I am in you. This is who she IS in YOU. We are REAL in you. YOU are my REAL."
Our last group of students came into the library, it was one of my favorite classes--my son Bruik is among them and I have watched and love them grow for a while now. One of my FAVORITE children in the class is a precious little girl who is full of life and glory. She is FUNNY, she is WITTY, she is so loving and has a real gift for connecting to God's heart and understanding His ways. She butts heads with my little Bruik half the time and the other half of the time squeeze hugs him with love. She is a blessed special needs girl who is wiser and more spectacular than most girls you'll meet. and, oh, yes...she's also been adopted...and is SUCH a blessing to her astounded mom who comes to me with precious stories of this incredible creation--I JUST LOVE HER.
So this little girl is trying to pick out a book and this day she is having a BEAR of a time finding JUST the right one. "Do you have any mysteries, Mrs. Tucker?...no thanks don't want a mystery...oh,oh,oh!! I KNOW what I want."..and the choices went kind of on and on that afternoon...until the check out computer is about to be shut down and this little one is the last child along with me among the shelves. She was the LAST student.
She slowed. She stopped....right in front of the Velveteen Rabbit book...
I don't really know why I did it but my hand came in front of the book--almost guarding it from her view...
I did't want to have this conversation. Today. Right then. With her. Precious her.
What about THIS book?
I heard myself talking in that falsetto adult voice, "OH, this is a GREAT book, honey." Smile. I felt uncomfortable. I half lied. "Its a story of a toy bunny that becomes, REAL."
She looked up at me through her little glasses. "HMMMNnnnn."
She's thinking.
I'm nailed.
"Isn't there something about a sick boooooy in here? and some tooooys?"
"Ah, Hem...Yes."
She looked like she was grasping for something lost...
"OOOOooooh...Mommy read this book to me" She looks like she is searching....for something forgotten...for something that may not be so pleasant..."
"Tell me about the fire, Mrs. Tucker"
She looked up at me as if to say, 'Don't lie to me, Mrs. Tucker. They burned that bunny. Tell me the Truth Mrs. Tucker."
She was waiting on me for an answer about the broken bunnies. And, Lord, I don't want to give her that answer....she's not the broken one anyhow in this moment...I am!...
And in that moment, we looked down to see the page that she had turned to in the beautiful old book. It was blue, and at the center of the illustration was a gorgeous fairy and dancing bunnies all around her.
"OH! I remember! There's an angel!!, " she sighed and smiled BIG..."Tell me about the ANGEL, Mrs. Tucker."
"Oh, yes." She smiled. "That's what I remember."
She picked up the book and hugged it to herself. Then, "I won't be needing this." She set it back gently on the shelf, and turned to land on her final decision... after several other final decisions...she plucked up a fluff bit of book called,"Pinky Dinky Doo" and I totally laughed out loud and sailed a goodbye toward her as she bounded out of the room to check it out. :)
Later, after my shift at school and piano lessons that fill my home with the reminder of what is glory...I was still feeling tattered...
like a big ole bunny...
But settled and at rest. Ready to continue to press in to being a REAL mom to all of my REAL children. I was deciding on dinner as well as deciding to keep standing on Truth even though I had not seen it in my parenting of that day...when I heard another little person sit down at the piano...and worship sounds started coming from the piano... REAL joyful noise, the kind that God mentions and asks for in the Psalms...
And my family is my witness that I actually heard my little bunny turn not only into a REAL bunny but metamorphosis into a SONGBIRD.
Now, worship and speaking out Truth is a gift from God that He will bring on this little one in certain sweet times, and had I subcombed to the attack and fought with HER instead of the lies...we might have missed out on this GLORIOUS moment...really...our warfare is THAT REAL.
Little Ava's hands were making BEAUTIFUL sounds on the piano
Chords...musical progressions...melodic notes...REAL melody...
Richard and I gathered in the kitchen, catching each other's eyes, "Are you HEARING THIS?"
And then this clear little voice started singing...the bunny is a songbird!!
"OOOOHhhh, Jesus...I just Looove you...
You made me on purpose. And everything you make is REALLLLLly Goood.
I want to be with you every day. You are the hero and I want to be with you every day.
We NEED you, come to us, Jesus!
We NEED you.
Come to US.
Oh, there's worship and there's the pain! ...and I'm growing...I'm GROWING UP LIKE A DAISY (the meaning of her African name we gave her, Aday)
Yeah, I'm growing up like a DAISY in the house of the Lord.
We NEED YOU, Jesus!
Come to us..."
She sang and sang and we cried and Richard put his head down on the counter in the kitchen and shook with laughter that is the surprised kind that comes when God just puts his glorious foot down in your midst.
Oh, don't ever stop! my Heart cried out! You are worth the "stand"
And then we heard,
"Fill our house with angels God...you are fillin' it Right now...I feel you comin' to us...just fillin' our house UP with your angels...We NEED you Jesus...We worship you..."
Who's the Mommy? Who's the REAL Daddy? He showed up in that moment. Who are we REALly? This turns out to be the WRONG QUESTION. So take that, enemy!!
The question that sets us FREE was asked 2 millennial years ago by Jesus, the King of all broken hearts and the Shepherd of all "bunnies and songbirds"
...the question is, "Who do you say that I am?" and when we get this before us...and find our identity in Him...when we lose ourself in THIS fire...we raise up out of that pire with power, life, and REAL joy in knowing that He who is IN us IS our HOPE of GLORY.
He is enough. He is THE solution for each of us. Because HE is REAL, I live.
Because HE lives there is INCREDIBLE HOPE for my children. ~ All six of my REAL kids!
Love, Gillian
Labels:
adoption journal,
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ava,
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Monday, November 28, 2011
Hugs from our Home Today
Many of us over the last several days have "Entered His gates with Thanksgiving" in our hearts and around our tables...First, the thanking...next comes the Praising and the knowing of the Presence... and...NOW enters the time for the WELCOMING of " God With US", Emmanuel...
Here's a GIFT from the Tucker Family today to WELCOME the Celebration of Jesus our Precious Savior's COMING into the World...Into our Lives...FOR EVER...
And may this SWEET Telling perhaps jumpstart your..."Entering His Courts with Praise" this Christmas season...
We LOVE YOU, Jesus!! We LOVE you, Friends!!
Hugs!
....now where did I PUT that box of Christmas dress-ups....Hmmnnn.... ;)
Psalm 100
A psalm. For giving thanks.
Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.
Worship the Lord with gladness;
come before him with joyful songs.
Know that the Lord is God.
It is He who made us, and we are His
we are His people, the sheep of his pasture.
Enter His gates with thanksgiving
and His courts with praise;
give thanks to him and praise his name.
For the Lord is good and His love endures forever;
His faithfulness continues through all generations.
Here's a GIFT from the Tucker Family today to WELCOME the Celebration of Jesus our Precious Savior's COMING into the World...Into our Lives...FOR EVER...
And may this SWEET Telling perhaps jumpstart your..."Entering His Courts with Praise" this Christmas season...
We LOVE YOU, Jesus!! We LOVE you, Friends!!
Hugs!
....now where did I PUT that box of Christmas dress-ups....Hmmnnn.... ;)
Psalm 100
A psalm. For giving thanks.
Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.
Worship the Lord with gladness;
come before him with joyful songs.
Know that the Lord is God.
It is He who made us, and we are His
we are His people, the sheep of his pasture.
Enter His gates with thanksgiving
and His courts with praise;
give thanks to him and praise his name.
For the Lord is good and His love endures forever;
His faithfulness continues through all generations.
Labels:
holiday,
Jesus is the answer
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Oh, HELP us, Jesus
If we are a friend of God we will love the poor from our heart, through correct thinking,in loving and specific action,in selfless giving...for as we give to them...we are giving to the Kingdom of God's ROYALTY. The way we love the poor is literally the way we love God.
He who is kind to the poor lends to the LORD, and He will reward him for what he has done.
Proverbs 19:17
Labels:
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Monday, June 20, 2011
Number Nineteen! :) ~ a dance to remember~
Yesterday we celebrated Anniversary Number 19 with my Honey Yesterday On The 19th of June :)!!
AND on Father's Day!!
It was quite a day!! :)
After 11 months of expectant waiting, Richard is wrapping up his job in Nashville this next week and heading out to Kansas City to join us here in our call to be intercessory missionaries~ WAHOO!!!!!!~
We will have much to share soon about our continued journey for God is downloading even more in our lives and hearts as the time arrives for Richard to join us here.
So love my pastoring, compassionate, missionary-hearted man.~
Our hearts are full as we look back on this past year ~ it has been so full of the Father's heart.
We had an amazing treat yesterday ~ straight from the heart of Abba God. After spending the day as a family, at church,at lunch, at a local park...swimming...we next had an impromptu visit from two amazing young missionaries to Israel and Finland...the conversation and love around the table was full of power as they opened up a Hebrew bible and gathered up my children like a flock around them ....instructing them in Hebraic style questions...
Next, the young men put in a Dvd that was about one of the friend's, Michael's recent wedding in Israel...
So very rich and glorious to see the glowing lights of Jerusalem just beyond the white wedding canopy...
Then the young men led us all in Israeli circle dancing as we worshiped Yeshua, Messiah, Jesus ...
Brown hands...tiny feet...massive peach hands...boy feet...girl feet...man arms raised...women waist bowing...Dancing with my earthly husband of 19 years...in a circle full of our quiver of children...some from the nations...joyfully singing with these brothers...It stepped past the immediate now and brought heaven to earth...images of the coming kingdom and the joy to come circled in my heart as we went around the living room last night...
Wonder's overflow... thanksgiving for this man, my earthly Adam, the one I have to reach my neck to smile up to :)...
this one
that God has chosen for me to journey with...
the one who whispers courage in my ear and reflects who God has purposed me to be...
Father to so many...
some our birthed children, some brought from the nations,some still being brought to our door...
and the many to come...
the gift of marriage...God's wondrous gift for man and woman in every step as we traverse home to Him...
full heart for the inheritance of Godly children...
kissed up, raised up as a gift for Jesus...
AWARENESS
...of Holy wind and fire...
a real heart that beats...
pursuing us...
... the tension between joy that transports our heart to the Father
as well as the ache and burst in our heart for Jesus' remaking of everything to new...
at the arrival of His coming!!!!!!...
to His waiting...made-ready bride...
And on that day...in that time... His REAL hands and LITERAL feet dancing the wedding dancing with me...His bride...with US, His children!...and we will look and grin and smile over the sea of multi-colored children's heads...dancing ribbons of every color...swirling gifts from the nations to Him...as we laugh with Joy and spin in the lights of Jerusalem...
(the song we danced to last night...)
O Lord bless me and keep me cause Your face to shine on me
Lord be gracious lift the light of Your countenance give me peace
I live only to see your face so shine on me
let the light of Your face shine down on my heart and let me feel it
Blessings and Love,
Gillian
AND on Father's Day!!
It was quite a day!! :)
After 11 months of expectant waiting, Richard is wrapping up his job in Nashville this next week and heading out to Kansas City to join us here in our call to be intercessory missionaries~ WAHOO!!!!!!~
We will have much to share soon about our continued journey for God is downloading even more in our lives and hearts as the time arrives for Richard to join us here.
So love my pastoring, compassionate, missionary-hearted man.~
Our hearts are full as we look back on this past year ~ it has been so full of the Father's heart.
We had an amazing treat yesterday ~ straight from the heart of Abba God. After spending the day as a family, at church,at lunch, at a local park...swimming...we next had an impromptu visit from two amazing young missionaries to Israel and Finland...the conversation and love around the table was full of power as they opened up a Hebrew bible and gathered up my children like a flock around them ....instructing them in Hebraic style questions...
Next, the young men put in a Dvd that was about one of the friend's, Michael's recent wedding in Israel...
So very rich and glorious to see the glowing lights of Jerusalem just beyond the white wedding canopy...
Then the young men led us all in Israeli circle dancing as we worshiped Yeshua, Messiah, Jesus ...
Brown hands...tiny feet...massive peach hands...boy feet...girl feet...man arms raised...women waist bowing...Dancing with my earthly husband of 19 years...in a circle full of our quiver of children...some from the nations...joyfully singing with these brothers...It stepped past the immediate now and brought heaven to earth...images of the coming kingdom and the joy to come circled in my heart as we went around the living room last night...
Wonder's overflow... thanksgiving for this man, my earthly Adam, the one I have to reach my neck to smile up to :)...
this one
that God has chosen for me to journey with...
the one who whispers courage in my ear and reflects who God has purposed me to be...
Father to so many...
some our birthed children, some brought from the nations,some still being brought to our door...
and the many to come...
the gift of marriage...God's wondrous gift for man and woman in every step as we traverse home to Him...
full heart for the inheritance of Godly children...
kissed up, raised up as a gift for Jesus...
AWARENESS
...of Holy wind and fire...
a real heart that beats...
pursuing us...
... the tension between joy that transports our heart to the Father
as well as the ache and burst in our heart for Jesus' remaking of everything to new...
at the arrival of His coming!!!!!!...
to His waiting...made-ready bride...
And on that day...in that time... His REAL hands and LITERAL feet dancing the wedding dancing with me...His bride...with US, His children!...and we will look and grin and smile over the sea of multi-colored children's heads...dancing ribbons of every color...swirling gifts from the nations to Him...as we laugh with Joy and spin in the lights of Jerusalem...
(the song we danced to last night...)
O Lord bless me and keep me cause Your face to shine on me
Lord be gracious lift the light of Your countenance give me peace
I live only to see your face so shine on me
let the light of Your face shine down on my heart and let me feel it
Blessings and Love,
Gillian
Labels:
family story,
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Holy Spirit,
IHOP,
Inheritance,
isaiah 61,
Jesus is the answer
Thursday, June 16, 2011
The love story..For HIM...For them...and For me
This BEAUTIFUL post is from my friend, Sara. She is an intercessory missionary here at the International House of Prayer in Kansas City and a beautiful adoptive mom who has adopted 2 adorable preschool children from Ethiopia and now is in the process of adopting 2 elementary- aged girls from Uganda.
I love her heart--
It first burns in love for Jesus
Then flows out to others...
Kingdom love...Kingdom journey...
A fellow traveler on the road that leads into the arms of our Father...
That will end up
taking us
HOME...
This post is a reflection of where our hearts are these days as God is marrying in Richard and my heart,
adoration for Christ
and deliverance,
or as Sara would say,
"rescue"
into the broken places of the world...
bringing the "HOME" of God's heart to the world.
(I have highlighted this pitch-perfect section of her post in bold letters today)
Look up Sara's blog at:

Enjoy!!
The Rescue
Posted by Sara on Thursday, June 2, 2011 · 14 Comments
“I don’t want to grow up before my mom gets me.” She said the words my heart felt.
At eight, she isn’t waiting on a mystery. Adoption has been explained to her and though family is a new concept for her orphan-mind, she is being indoctrinated into the very thing I am, an ocean away. Waiting on a promise.
Adoption is never easy. What sits deep in the eye of the Father is a target for His enemy. The layers of testimony being built around the rescue of the vulnerable ones don’t go unopposed. Simultaneous to the glorious accounts we’ve received from friends who have visited with Hope and Lily has been the news that our story has hit some paperwork-related hurdles.
And Lily knows about those. The same little girl who kisses my picture on her wall knows that the path to her promise will have to be paved by Jesus.
“At least I have a mom,” she says in response to news of the potential delays. The child, whose daily comings and goings have never been under a mother’s watchful eye (though now under kind caregivers), finds peace in the whispers of me as if they were my arms wrapped around her. Something is better than nothing for the child who’s grown accustomed to nothing.
Hope still seems oblivious to the radical life change around her corner. She loved her pink nail polish, Molly’s treat. And bore smile after smile for a camera that would deliver gold to my inbox just hours later. Carefree and full of the delight that an outdoor playground solicits, the disconnect between this message bearer and those who sent her, obvious.
She appeared to brush away tears when she watched a video we sent, enamored with the kisses we blew across miles. Is it possible for a five year-old to feel the pain of waiting?
Three years between she and Lily seem like eons which have potential to wash away the innocence of youth. Young and fresh, malleable turned molded — needing re-molding. But for both of them, every day they are not under my roof is a day I’ve lost. A day I will one day have to ask back of the God who restores the years locusts eat.
There is something innate in a woman, created to protect her young at all costs, which adoption stirs up. I find myself explaining our adoption process to people as if I’m explaining the mortgage application process. Dry description, dry process because I lack words to explain the torrent going on within me.
I have daughters living minutes I don’t get to shape. The little-girl moments mothers are made to ponder are ones I only dream about.
++++++
Eden scoots into my lap, eyes on the floor and lower lip quivering. She lets down. “I’m sad Mommy,” she says as a precursor to the conversation we’ve had many times. My five year-old mourns the early years when she “didn’t get to be with Mommy and Daddy” and I can’t help but think of the two others on another continent whose time-cards reflect immeasurably more of those minutes which will one day need healing. Our home, soon to be a hospital for these type of heart-casualties.
Injustice spans the gap between where I live my days and where they grow more inches. And the horizon is pregnant with more waiting.
All of this can make a mother crazy.
And crazed I have been. Allured by the dark side of promise. It’s a faint fume which has set like a damper over my spirit, telling me that rest will come with the promise and that my stomach was meant to be in knots — and my heart awry — until the answer comes. Subtle alluring, couched in mission. Seeking the promise, instead of the promise giver, slowly becomes my goal. And I get heartsick.
Until the One who allures appears.
Adoption is not about a child. It’s about a Man. A God-Man who could end injustice in an instant and who does not look on the fatherless with hands tied behind His back. Instead, He works every angle for the greatest love story of all time to unfold.
The love story for Lily. For Hope. And for me.
He’s rescuing my heart and teaching me a trust that isn’t dependent upon human constructs. He’s alluring me to love which, when I melt weak at its feet, does not allow me to leave that place unchanged. He’s awakening me to an encounter that infuses peace in a valley of darkness.
He calls us to justice not because He needs our acts of justice, but because — in doing so — we find Him. We learn Him. We brush up against a love that does not leave us with a little bit of Jesus to add to our already-formed mission but leaves us hungering for a Man that will change every dusty corner of our lives.
Adoption reveals His relentlessness. For them. And for me.
Whether a month from now or six months from now or a year from now, when I get to hold Lily for the first time and my lips grace Hope’s forehead as if they’d been there a thousand times before, there is one thing I’m desperate to have found.
More of this Man Jesus. More of this One who keeps calling me to walk across a tight-rope and promises I’ll find Him safe in every step.
The end is a Man. Not exclusive to adoption, the end of every promise who’s seen the sweat of waiting, is this Man.
My inbox has been flooded lately with questions about adoption (if I haven’t yet responded to you, I haven’t forgotten you — it usually takes me a few days to respond) and I’ve been tempted to craft an auto-reply that says:
Adoption is for the hungry. If you want to know more of Jesus and are willing to get a little undone in the meantime, sign up. You can’t pursue a child without being consumed by His pursuit of you.
I love her heart--
It first burns in love for Jesus
Then flows out to others...
Kingdom love...Kingdom journey...
A fellow traveler on the road that leads into the arms of our Father...
That will end up
taking us
HOME...
This post is a reflection of where our hearts are these days as God is marrying in Richard and my heart,
adoration for Christ
and deliverance,
or as Sara would say,
"rescue"
into the broken places of the world...
bringing the "HOME" of God's heart to the world.
(I have highlighted this pitch-perfect section of her post in bold letters today)
Look up Sara's blog at:
Enjoy!!
The Rescue
Posted by Sara on Thursday, June 2, 2011 · 14 Comments
“I don’t want to grow up before my mom gets me.” She said the words my heart felt.
At eight, she isn’t waiting on a mystery. Adoption has been explained to her and though family is a new concept for her orphan-mind, she is being indoctrinated into the very thing I am, an ocean away. Waiting on a promise.
Adoption is never easy. What sits deep in the eye of the Father is a target for His enemy. The layers of testimony being built around the rescue of the vulnerable ones don’t go unopposed. Simultaneous to the glorious accounts we’ve received from friends who have visited with Hope and Lily has been the news that our story has hit some paperwork-related hurdles.
And Lily knows about those. The same little girl who kisses my picture on her wall knows that the path to her promise will have to be paved by Jesus.
“At least I have a mom,” she says in response to news of the potential delays. The child, whose daily comings and goings have never been under a mother’s watchful eye (though now under kind caregivers), finds peace in the whispers of me as if they were my arms wrapped around her. Something is better than nothing for the child who’s grown accustomed to nothing.
Hope still seems oblivious to the radical life change around her corner. She loved her pink nail polish, Molly’s treat. And bore smile after smile for a camera that would deliver gold to my inbox just hours later. Carefree and full of the delight that an outdoor playground solicits, the disconnect between this message bearer and those who sent her, obvious.
She appeared to brush away tears when she watched a video we sent, enamored with the kisses we blew across miles. Is it possible for a five year-old to feel the pain of waiting?
Three years between she and Lily seem like eons which have potential to wash away the innocence of youth. Young and fresh, malleable turned molded — needing re-molding. But for both of them, every day they are not under my roof is a day I’ve lost. A day I will one day have to ask back of the God who restores the years locusts eat.
There is something innate in a woman, created to protect her young at all costs, which adoption stirs up. I find myself explaining our adoption process to people as if I’m explaining the mortgage application process. Dry description, dry process because I lack words to explain the torrent going on within me.
I have daughters living minutes I don’t get to shape. The little-girl moments mothers are made to ponder are ones I only dream about.
++++++
Eden scoots into my lap, eyes on the floor and lower lip quivering. She lets down. “I’m sad Mommy,” she says as a precursor to the conversation we’ve had many times. My five year-old mourns the early years when she “didn’t get to be with Mommy and Daddy” and I can’t help but think of the two others on another continent whose time-cards reflect immeasurably more of those minutes which will one day need healing. Our home, soon to be a hospital for these type of heart-casualties.
Injustice spans the gap between where I live my days and where they grow more inches. And the horizon is pregnant with more waiting.
All of this can make a mother crazy.
And crazed I have been. Allured by the dark side of promise. It’s a faint fume which has set like a damper over my spirit, telling me that rest will come with the promise and that my stomach was meant to be in knots — and my heart awry — until the answer comes. Subtle alluring, couched in mission. Seeking the promise, instead of the promise giver, slowly becomes my goal. And I get heartsick.
Until the One who allures appears.
Adoption is not about a child. It’s about a Man. A God-Man who could end injustice in an instant and who does not look on the fatherless with hands tied behind His back. Instead, He works every angle for the greatest love story of all time to unfold.
The love story for Lily. For Hope. And for me.
He’s rescuing my heart and teaching me a trust that isn’t dependent upon human constructs. He’s alluring me to love which, when I melt weak at its feet, does not allow me to leave that place unchanged. He’s awakening me to an encounter that infuses peace in a valley of darkness.
He calls us to justice not because He needs our acts of justice, but because — in doing so — we find Him. We learn Him. We brush up against a love that does not leave us with a little bit of Jesus to add to our already-formed mission but leaves us hungering for a Man that will change every dusty corner of our lives.
Adoption reveals His relentlessness. For them. And for me.
Whether a month from now or six months from now or a year from now, when I get to hold Lily for the first time and my lips grace Hope’s forehead as if they’d been there a thousand times before, there is one thing I’m desperate to have found.
More of this Man Jesus. More of this One who keeps calling me to walk across a tight-rope and promises I’ll find Him safe in every step.
The end is a Man. Not exclusive to adoption, the end of every promise who’s seen the sweat of waiting, is this Man.
My inbox has been flooded lately with questions about adoption (if I haven’t yet responded to you, I haven’t forgotten you — it usually takes me a few days to respond) and I’ve been tempted to craft an auto-reply that says:
Adoption is for the hungry. If you want to know more of Jesus and are willing to get a little undone in the meantime, sign up. You can’t pursue a child without being consumed by His pursuit of you.
Labels:
isaiah 61,
Jesus is the answer,
orphan deliverance
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