Rescuer

Yesterday, I was running an errand for work when I got to thinking about the ways God speaks to His children. I recounted a gal from our life group saying how God often speaks to her through billboards, movies, etc. "How creative and personal you are, God," I thought. He knows what gets our attention. God knew my heart was longing to be open to seeing Him however He wanted to speak. I need those little breakthroughs of Heaven in my day to help me keep pressing on.

I was simultaneously listening to a new worship album I found a couple weeks back by John Mark and Sarah McMillan. In one of my faves from the album, Heart Won't Stop, it reads:

I could lay my head in Sheol
I could make my bed at the bottom of the darkness deep
Oh, but there is not a place I could escape You
Your heart won't stop coming after me

Maybe it's what we've been learning in our School of Kingdom Ministry class (more on that later!) about the kingdom being already but not yet, or the kingdom has come and is coming, but as I heard those words in the song, I had the most vivid scene flash through my mind. Jesus, clothed in fierce love and kindness, running towards darkness while pulling all of heaven behind Him. He penetrates the darkness and grabs hold of me as I'm running to Him (you, your situation, my family, your family, etc.), taking back what has been stolen, what is rightfully His. Darkness cannot overcome Him. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for such a passionate Redeemer. There is not a place too dark, too broken, too evil, that He cannot restore.

As I snapped back to reality, I looked straight ahead at the car in front of me. A red truck whose license plate read clear as day: RESCUER

Sweet confirmation just seconds after such a moving picture from Jesus. It's like He said, "Yep! That picture was from me, and that scene really is happening every single day. I've come and I'm coming for you! I'm the Rescuer."

Jesus, we have eyes, let us see. We have ears, let us hear. May we surrender our expectations of how you do things and just grow in expectancy that you will and are still moving and speaking.

Rains of Truth

Rainy overcast morning, cup of hot tea, all cozied up in grandma's quilt with my babe by my side. Let's share stories!

Holy Spirit, lead me on how to be open today.

The last year has been almost a sensory overload for me, spiritually. I've seen, heard, felt, tasted too many new experiences, thoughts, feelings, etc. I didn't realize that I wasn't one who could take in information quickly. I need time to let it all steep, to sort through and digest it. When I receive a revelation from the Lord (and there has been too many to count this year), it needs to simmer there for a bit before it sincerely soaks into my soul. What it used to feel like is when we get a terribly fast and heavy rainfall. The rain doesn't truly soak into the ground, it just runs into the sewer drain because it's coming so quickly and in such great volume. There is nowhere for the new rain to go as the previous drops are still soaking in. The ground doesn't absorb all it could like if it was a steady, lingering rain shower. You've watered flowers before and watched the water slowly sink into the thirsty soil. The same is true with my soul.

I still struggle with being like that, because I struggle with grace.

The grace of the Lord says to me, "If it takes you a while to process, to understand and start living it out, I will still be here. The truth will still be here. I am able to redeem any time that may have been lost between the knowledge of truth (revelation) and the belief of it (living it out)." Guys, God is the giver of gifts. He loves loves loooooooooves to see us thrive in His Truth and His Grace. He's going to make sure we get it and believe it. The source of every good thing is I-N-F-I-N-I-T-E. Does that not blow your mind? It does mine. I usually forget this, too (more grace, Lord). He never runs out, and He wants to and will keep giving. He wants us to know Him.

The lie I believe says, "If you don't figure it out quickly, if you don't believe quickly, if you don't act swiftly (even if you don't truly believe), the revelation, the gift, the time, will all be lost. It will be revoked and the opportunity will not come again." You can imagine the anxiety that is coupled with believing this. I'll never measure up. My life will be in shambles. The goodness of the Lord is nowhere near, it has left me alone. It reeks of the enemy, as he comes to steal and destroy.

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights..." - James 1:17

Do I wish that revelation would stick faster with me? Absolutely. I'd love the turn around time between revelation and living it out to be instant. I believe it will get quicker, I believe that's the Lord's will for us all. But until then, I'm walking with the Lord, growing in grace and repentance (which is such a beautiful word, abused by many, myself included until recently). This journey, this walk I'm on with Him is making my soul more porous, so when the rains of truth come, my heart will quickly soak up even more than it did before.

More grace, Lord.

Write.

I feel like the Lord told me to sit down and write. That sentence freaks me out to type, because I'm still new to this "I feel like Jesus is telling me..." stuff. It's a bold statement, but I think it pleases Jesus when we're bold. It gives Him even more permission to be glorified through us.

• what if it wasn't really Jesus?
• did I make that up?
• is the enemy playing another game (he's so sneaky).

Those are my top 3 reasons for dismissing the reoccurring theme of Jesus wanting me to share my story. I don't even know what that means right now (I'm scared). But the best I can come up with is to test that still small voice in my spirit. "Write," it says.  So I will. And if good fruits come, I'll grow a little more confident that I can indeed hear better than I think. And if I didn't hear correctly, I'll grow a little more confident that His grace is sufficient, and that He's perfecting me as I step out.

From an Instagrammer I happened upon this morning: "But who are we without experience? The best learning only takes place when we are the ones 'doing the doing'."

So, I'm gonna do the doing, and in my baby steps I have a feeling I'll be figuring out how to share my story the way I'm supposed to.

Adrienne