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Archive for October, 2017

Words won’t flow. They don’t  drip or even trickle from the tired edges of my mind. Wearily, I press on–searching for the right words, a creative phrase. Nothing. I decide to turn to the Word and rediscover Him.

The Word woos me with covenant love. Promises of peace. A heaven-made search and rescue strategy detailed in black and white.

Do you, dear Friend, need the Word today? Can I encourage you to drink deeply from the springs of living water?

I’ve posted a few of my favorite scriptures below to get you started.

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1.  “His mercies are new every morning.”  (Lamentations 3:22-23)

2.  “The joy of The Lord is my strength.”  (Nehemiah 8:10)

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3. The name of the Lord is a strong tower; The righteous run to it and are safe.          (Proverbs 18:10)

4.  “Come to me…and you will find rest for your souls.”  (Matthew 11:28-29)

5.  “And this same God who takes care of me will supply all your needs.”  (Phil. 4:19)

6.  “And The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves.” (Zeph. 3:17)

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7. “And I will be a father to you, And you shall be sons and daughters to Me,” says the             Lord Almighty.” (2 Cor. 6:18)

8. “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will       have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

9. “He will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Duet. 31:6)

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10.  Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water.  Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.

 

Blessings to you this day,

Tammy

 

Linking up at Salt and Light and the following blogs–

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In the still of the morning, my small world is quiet and peaceful. The muffled whir of the washing machine and rhythmic inhale and exhale of my old, sleeping dog just behind my writing chair are the only sounds. A few breakfast dishes litter the kitchen counter and I ignore a freshly dried pile of darks perched on the couch.

Enfolding a warm cup of tea in my hands, I pause and whisper a prayer of thanks. For a new day. For family and friends. For safety.

Yet, my thoughts continue to focus elsewhere—returning again and again to the images I’d seen splashed across the television screen. People franticly veering left and right, desperate to escape a madman’s deadly rampage during a country music concert. Mental footage of homes laid waste by raging winds and water like a child’s broken set of Lincoln Logs. The eerie, glowing skyline of California only broken by charred remains of what had once represented the lives of hundreds of people. A human right’s activist gripping photos of a recent Syrian massacre in which babies gasped helplessly for elusive, life-giving air.

Suddenly, my peaceful morning transforms and I’m overcome with feelings of helplessness.  Hopelessness. Grief.

What hope is there for a world that destroys itself? For people brought to their knees by forces beyond their influence? For victims of the evils of terrorism and hate?

I’m reminded of a moment of vulnerability and, perhaps, even accusation when Lazarus’ sister, Mary, runs to meet Christ as he approaches her home. “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

Mary held Jesus responsible for her brother’s death. Why didn’t you come, Jesus? All of this pain—my pain—could have been avoided if only you’d done something.

Can you hear the unspoken words? Have you ever thought them yourself? Why, God? This just isn’t right.

But, the beauty in this story? Jesus wept.

He felt Mary’s pain. He felt death’s presence. He grieved the brokenness of a world meant for so much more.

The story doesn’t end there, though. With the trail of tears still wet on his cheeks, Jesus called Lazarus from death to life.

“Lazarus, come out!”

Healing cannot go any deeper than life reborn and that is what the Life-Giving God shouts out—to you and me. To the men and women crying out for hope. This isn’t the sort of Pollyanna, feel-good hope borne of positive thinking or some falsely produced, happily-ever-after emotion from within.

Hope is real, dear Friend, and His name is Jesus.

He sheds tears over the pain of His people, but He is powerful enough to break its chains.

There is a forever tomorrow.
There is refuge in Someone.
There is Light in the darkness.

Do you hear Him calling you today? “Child, come out!”

Blessings to you today,
Tammy

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