Open

I want to live my life with my heart and arms wide open, and that gets hard and hurty and painful. I want to live with my eyes wide open to all the injustice in this God-with-us (not god-forsaken) world, and have it go straight to my heart so that all I can do is love and love and love until somehow the pain ceases. I want to be open to His will for me, for my life and not fight it, but sometimes I think that I know best and I want to fight what He says. I am in a time of pruning again again again and it hurts and would probably hurt the less if I stopped fighting. I know that pruning cuts out what is bad and leaves open space for new growth, healthy growth, something stronger and better, but still I am fighting it. I want to be open to Him, not my will, but His, and submit like a young girl submitted to bearing and birthing God-with-us over 2000 years ago. That is how I want to walk out the last days of 2011, and walk into 2012, and I am terrified.
Linked up with Lisa-Jo at The Gypsy Mama for Five Minute Friday. Won't you join in?

Loved.

Source: fyeahtattoos.com via Stephanie on Pinterest

Once in a while comes a night so extraordinary and God-breathed that it must be recorded, despite heavy eyelids and and a longing to sleep. I am nearly five weeks into a leadership course/internship at Soul Survivor Watford, and this evening was a 'Women in Leadership' event for the 23 girls on the course - the aim was to spend some time hanging out with each other and with God, and to have some teaching on what it means to be a woman involved in church leadership. So far, so normal. But... 


The boys were asked to cook us dinner; they took that idea and ran with it. They decided on a three-course meal, and divided themselves into teams to facilitate the cooking. They set up one of the church warehouses with candle-lit tables, set in blue and silver. They compiled a playlist of youtube videos they thought we'd enjoy (laughing babies, sneezing pandas...) and arranged the sofas invitingly. We entered the warehouse, where we were met with the sight of a pink, candlelit walkway leading to the main space with the tables. We were all personally escorted to our tables, and had our coats and drink orders taken. (The boys were resplendent in shirts and ties, by the way.)


We had dinner (pea and coriander soup, then roast dinner, with chocolate brownies to finish) interspersed with teaching from the lovely Ali Martin. She talked about our need to be secure in Daddy and His calling for our lives, our need to be authentic and to lead as ourselves, as women, how to grow without a mentor, how to be a mentor, and Jesus' model of servant leadership. We had a time of worship and ministry, during which Ali went to check on the boys; she was perturbed to find only five of the 16 of them doing the washing up. Where were the others? In another room, praying for us, their sisters, while Daddy ministered to us. 


We girls returned home and all over facebook are the same stories, of how loved we felt, how blessed we have been, how we felt like princesses. 


He is stirring things in us, and there are broken hearts being restored. And we are only five weeks in.




The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, 
because the LORD has anointed me 
to proclaim good news to the poor. 
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, 
to proclaim freedom for the captives 
and release from darkness for the prisoners,to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favour. 


(Isaiah 61:1-2)