All last night I looked forward to my morning on the porch. I live in an expansive neighborhood in Wilmington on 0.2 of an acre. I love my home and my garden and my neighbors, but to be honest, there is not a lot of peace and quiet there. When I escape to my back porch to enjoy my coffee and the birds and my garden, I’m usually greeted by the sounds of lawn mowers, air conditioners, and lots and lots of cars. So I truly relish a quiet morning in the country.
But since I’ve been 18, my best friend Nicole has chosen me. Recently when we met for lunch, she reminded me, “I choose you.”
Scott was interested in everything military-related. He had two uncles in the Air Force, which fueled his fascination. Scott spent his time making model fighter jets and drawing ships and wearing camo and playing “war.” We watched a lot of Hogan’s Heroes. And in the seventies and early eighties, the US and Russia were in the midst of the Cold War, so Scott talked a lot about Russia and imminent threat of nuclear war.
As my body woke up from a night of slumber, so did the constant fear that rolled over and over in my stomach. I had recently completed a three minute speaker promo video and I had shared it with my family and friends, including a lot of pastors and ministry leaders. I even shared it on Facebook. I was unsure how people would receive it. I felt vulnerable. Exposed.
I was terrified of being rejected.
Sharing is caring. If this post encouraged you, will you share it on Facebook so that it could bless your friends,too? Thanks for helping me to reach more struggling women with encouragement, hope, and grace.As you walk into my foyer, you are welcomed by warm, golden walls and a room filled with cranberry red accents. My plaid couch is as old as my 20 year son, and the slight fraying just adds to its personality. You can sit on that comfy couch and put your feet up on my dented coffee table. You can reach over and grab the afghan that will warm you up on a cold day.
Let’s turn on the gas logs, plug in the twinkling lights on the mantle, and light a few candles. You will hear the sound of peaceful music through the speakers, see the light streaming in through the skylights, and hear the soothing sounds of water in the fountain.
Welcome home.
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The day was dark and gloomy as Jesus wandered the city streets. His heart was set on a mission but He wasn’t quite sure yet of the outcome. He was fully God but also fully man, so some things were still hidden to Him. But this He knew: the Holy Spirit was propelling Him to find something. Or someone.
He headed to the market area, and as He drew nearer, He could begin to hear the shouts. It was a place of market, a place of trade, where one exchanged one’s valuables for another person’s goods. It was a place where food, blankets, and fine linens were sold, but as Jesus drew nearer, He saw that the market was also darker and more sinister at one end. It was also a market for people. Slaves. Men and women of flesh and bone, sold into servitude for their debts and crimes.
It was then that he saw her. He could see that at one time she was young and lovely, but today she was grimy and disheveled. She was bound by the wrists and feet by heavy rope that had no hope of being untied. She probably had once struggled against her bonds, but as he looked at her, he saw that hope had long fled her heart and despair had settled in. She sat there in defeat, and all around her were shouts of condemnation.
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It is hard to admit, but in defense of those who have hurt me, some of this is probably my fault. I’ve probably made some mistakes. But I’ve been following God’s leading to the best of my ability. I am sure there are things I could have done and said better. And I wish I had done it better. I’m left with a heart that is broken and friendships that are shredded to pieces like confetti. Jesus!
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