painter's daughter (a work in progress)

In the light

July 25, 2013July 25, 2013by Pam Anderson6 Comments

From one man He has made every nation of men to live all over the earth and has determined their appointed times and the boundaries of where they live, so that they might seek God, and perhaps they might reach out and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us. Acts 17:26-27

I’ve written extensively about the Summer/early Fall of 2010. Because as far as my relationship with God goes, that time period was a turning point. And all the years leading up to then brought me to that appointed time and place. It was in Pinehurst, NC, when I really turned to Him. Heart, mind and soul. It was a time when I sought God fervently. I threw myself into His word desperately seeking God. But alas, I turned away too quickly. And here I am today. And now, in my new boundaries, I again am desperately seeking God. And so, I live out Acts 17:27. See, in reaching out and seeking God, I found Him. And the truth about God & me is… well, in finding God, I also found myself. Because I approached Him, and I stepped into light. His light. And so, everything exposed by the light is made clear, for what makes everything clear is light (Ephesians 5:13). In seeking the truth about God, I also find the truth about myself. Thus, darkness.

Micah 7:8 is such a beautiful verse. It moves me. BUT, if I go just a bit further – things become clear.

Do not rejoice over me, my enemy! Though I have fallen, I will stand up; though I sit in darkness, the LORD will be my light. Because I have sinned against Him, I must endure the LORD’s rage until He argues my case and establishes justice for me. He will bring me into the light; I will see His salvation. Micah 7:8-9

Yes, there lies the truth about my darkness. There lies the truth about God & me. And isn’t that the whole point of this blog. Telling the truth. For whatever He tells me in the dark, I shall speak in the light. Whatever I hear in a whisper, I shall proclaim on the housetops (Matthew 10:27). See, I can color it any way I want to… issues, patterns, habits, strongholds… but when it comes down to it, a sin by any other name is still a sin. This is what has been revealed to me… in the dark. All of this is beginning to make sense now. In February, start a blog (me… a blog… crazy!) And I thought that perhaps the blog would be what I had previously written… that they may know. But soon into this writing endeavor, it was clear that I had to look back. I had to go the way I came… and not that they may know, but that I may know. That I may know. The truth.

Set up road markers for yourself; establish signposts! Keep the highway in mind, the way you have traveled. Return, Virgin Israel! Return to these cities of yours. How long will you turn here and there, faithless daughter? For the LORD creates something new in the land – a female will shelter a man. Jeremiah 30:21-22

Yes, go back… the way I traveled. And that’s what I’ve been doing. Retracing steps… the steps that led me to Him in the first place. And what I see clearly is perpetual sin. See, when God shows you something about yourself – over and over and over and over again – that you should turn from, but you don’t… well simply, that’s sin. That’s dwelling in sin. And it’s a choice. And my life is proof positive that the result of choosing sin is darkness. How funny. How often I’ve written about the darkness and depression that surrounds me, and holds me, but I just didn’t know why. Well, He shows me. He has shown me. Over and over again. Through His word. And I can turn this way and that until finally, finally… I relent. And then, I repent. There’s that word. A touchy word, right? No one wants to hear it. But, it’s what the prophets of old proclaimed. It’s what John the Baptist shouted when he prepared the way for Christ, and it was the first thing our Lord and Savior preached when He began His ministry. Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near! How lovely to hear that it has come near. He is near, God is near. For in Him we live and move and exist (Acts 17:28). It’s in the 17th chapter of Acts that I read, “God now commands all people everywhere to repent.”

Darkness, desert land, dry land, wilderness wandering… yes, I can color it any way I please, but if I want to tell the truth about God & me (and I do), then my darkness comes from my sin. This is my truth. But as the prophet Isaiah proclaimed, “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of darkness, a light has dawned.” Yes, morning has broken on my path, and all things are made clear. And I am tired and weary. So tired… of myself. He’s told me over and over again, go beyond me. And yet, I’ve stayed right here in my own little hole with perhaps a little too much introspection (it can make you selfish, you know). And I’ve still not turned to Him… to what He’s told me to do. And so, there lies the key to my darkness. It’s sin. And I am ready to turn from it. Because I don’t want to dwell in the darkness anymore. And this is what repentance is… turning from what you know you shouldn’t do (the darkness), and turning to Him and what He says to do (the light).

It was not long ago that I thought, “a woman shall encompass a man.” It’s referenced above (Jeremiah 30:22)… “A female will shelter a man.” This is Jesus. Mary carried Him in her womb, and he was birthed into the world. God in the form of man. And the Son of Man walked perfectly… a blameless man. He was tempted in every way that we are, and yet, He knew no sin. And yet, He took on all sin. That’s the whole point of the cross. The cross is the biggest turning point in one’s life, because it was there that Jesus took on the sin of the whole world. He died for that sin so we wouldn’t have to. And do you know what happened? From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over the whole land. As Jesus hung on that cross, cloaked in our sin, the darkness covered the land. He cried out, “My God, My God, why have forsaken Me?” See, God cannot look upon sin. But then, when Jesus finally died carrying our sin to the grave, the veil in the temple was split into – from the top to the bottom. It was this veil that separated the priests from the Holy of Holies. It was that most inner sanctuary of the temple that housed the ark of the covenant, and the mercy seat. It was there that God’s presence would appear. But, upon Jesus’ death, the veil was split. In so doing, through Jesus, we have direct access to the Holy of Holies. And His light.

Jesus took our sin to the grave. And we can be forgiven that sin. But first, we must turn from it. We must repent. In so doing, we exit the darkness and enter His light.

“This, then, is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For everyone who practices wicked things hates the light and avoids it, so that his deeds may not be exposed. But anyone who lives by the truth comes to the light, so that his works may be shown to be accomplished by God.” John 3:19-21

Morning dawns

July 17, 2013by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment

God is within her; she will not be toppled. God will help her when the morning dawns. Psalm 46:5

It’s coming… the morning of my soul. I know it to be true, for He speaks to me through His word. And He helps me along my way. You see, I’ve been reading through my old journal… my first journal. And not coincidentally, it ends on July 19, 2011. Two years ago. And what I find written in my own hand is somewhat condemning. Because I find that I listed out strongholds. And what held me captive two years ago still holds me captive today. In that regard, not much has changed. This morning, I actually wrote out the word strongholds, bolded and doubly underlined. I know what they are. I know what I’m up against. And so, I know what my fight is. But you know… that’s half the battle right there. Knowing.

Do you know what a stronghold is? According to the dictionary, it’s a well-fortified place… a fortress. And so, it’ll take strength to overcome what holds me. Strength that I don’t possess. But, it’s not by human strength that I’ll overcome… and God tells me that He’ll help me. It’s through His strength, that I’ll gain victory. It’s Psalm 46 that gives me hope. I write out the Psalms every day, but I personalize them. I write them out according to how I feel. And you can imagine how encouraged I was when I came across Psalm 46:7 this morning. It was after I had written out my strongholds when I read… The LORD of Hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold. And again, repeated in verse 11, the LORD of Hosts is my stronghold. Yes, it may be true that I have some things to overcome in life. And although they’re strong, He is stronger. He tells me to not fear:

Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will hold on to you with My righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10

Some may think, how do you know that to be true. If I am writing about perpetual darkness, and still remain in the same rut I was in two years ago, what’s changed? How has God helped me thus far? And I can answer with assurance, infinitely. Immensely. For within the past two years, I am coming to know my God in a way I never have before. He’s not just something I do or think about at church on a Sunday. He’s with me. He’s real to me. He’s in my thoughts. And He speaks to me… I hear Him when He calls. And despite the bad… the strongholds that still hold me… there is good. So much good. In reading my old journal, I find that I have overcome one of my strongholds. I have gained a victory, and it was through His strength. And so, I am confident that I will gain ground in the other areas of my life. For He is within me. I’ll not be toppled. And it’s His righteous right hand that holds me up.

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things? Who shall bring a charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is he who condemns? It is Christ who died, and furthermore is also risen, who is even at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written: “For Your sake we are killed all day long; We are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.”Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:31-39

Do you see? It is Christ who is at the right hand of God. It is Christ who will keep us upright. It is through His strength I can do all things. So I echo what I wrote last night, “Do not rejoice over me, my enemy! Though I have fallen, I will Rise!” Micah 7:8. I know I will. Because when I look back over the course of my life, I can see. I am not who I once was. I have changed. And it’s because of God. No matter how many times I stumble, He lifts me. And the reality is, if I let Him fight the battle for me (rather than in my own feeble strength), victory will come. This is part of the journey… letting God fight for me.

The truth is we have many battles. We have many enemies. This is just life. But He is with us. Let Him fight for us… let Him be our strength:

“Be strong and courageous! Don’t be afraid or discouraged before the king of Assyria or before all the multitude with him, for there are more with us than with him. He has only human strength, but we have the LORD our God to help us and to fight our battles.” 2 Chronicles 32:7-8

Light of men

July 17, 2013by Pam Anderson2 Comments

With me, it began with His word. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. All things were created through Him, and apart from Him not one thing was created that has been created. Life was in Him, and that life was the light of men. That light shines in the darkness, yet the darkness did not overcome it. John 1:1-5. How beautiful are His words. And how beautiful is He, for He is the Word. And He is the life. He is the light of men and He shines in the dark, for darkness could not hold Him.

The Word. God’s word. I feast on it. And thus, I feast on Jesus. But I haven’t always. No, for so long I nibbled on bits and pieces of Him. But eventually, bits and pieces grew to a steady diet. And now, I cannot get enough of Him. Because the more I read, the more I know about Him. And His word is transforming. See, through the pages of Scripture God begins to speak to us… directly and individually and specifically. And that’s where it all began with me. Reading the word. Reading Jesus.

It was three years ago that I had had enough. Enough of me. It was a turning point, really. And so, I sought God fervently… through His word. And He spoke volumes to me. For it was through the pages of Scripture that I found out what I needed to do to move from where I was. In order to move away from me, and the darkness, I had to purpose to know Him in my heart. I had to determine it, and then, move towards the light… towards Him. Because if I wanted to know God, it wasn’t just going to magically happen. I had to participate…

I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead. Philippians 3:10

This verse was a life-changer. But three years ago, I had a different version of the Bible. And then, I read it in light of God. Father God. But now, I see. To know Father God, I must first know His Son. That’s the only way to know God, for Jesus is the way and the truth and the life. And that’s what this journey is all about. See, upon finding Philippians 3:10 so long ago, I didn’t really know what I was asking for when I claimed that verse. Honestly, I simply purposed to know God… aside from His Son. But, oh, to know Christ is to know God. For they are One and the Same. And to know Christ… I mean really know Him… we must follow Him. All the way. And when we do, we begin to put off our old self. We begin to transform as we put on a new self who is renewed according to the image of Him who created us. Colossians 3:10. But this can be painful. For in order to be resurrected, we must first die. And just as Jesus suffered, so shall we. And not just in an eternal, end of life kind of way. No, it’s a daily thing.

I think most of us have heard, “WWJD.” What would Jesus do? Some people wear it on a bracelet, or a necklace. And it’s a nice thought… Jesus would help someone in need, or He would be kind to an unlikeable person, or He would heal the sick. You know all those great things Jesus did. But in reality, Jesus came to die. Ultimately, that’s what He did. He died for us. He put His life last, and put us first. That’s what Jesus did then, and that’s what He would do today. He died, and He expects us to do the same. The truth about God & me? I don’t want to die. Not all the way. Not like He did. I’m too selfish. The truth? All this darkness that surrounds me? Well, there’s layers to it. And one layer for certain is my selfishness. The darkness in which I dwell? Well, I’m still in the tomb. But that’s okay, for I know that I know that I know that He’s working on me. I will be resurrected. And here on earth, too, not on the other side of eternity. It’ll happen here where people will witness my resurrected life. Like Lazarus. Whatever suffering I may endure is simply me dying… to me. Following Jesus unto death. It’s what He would do. It’s what He did. For us.

It was Sunday morning as I walked up the steps to my church that a random thought came to me… “A woman shall encompass a man.” It wasn’t much later that my Sunday School teacher took us to Jeremiah 31. Although we read about the New Covenant, my eyes fell to verse 22… For the LORD creates something new in the land – a female will shelter a man. This is the verse that came to me earlier… different version. That day, I thought God was just telling me His eye was upon me. He saw me. But now, I wonder if it was something more…

Most assuredly, I say to you that you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice; and you will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will be turned into joy. A woman, when she is in labor, has sorrow because her hour has come; but as soon as she has given birth to the child,she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. Therefore you now have sorrow; but I will see you again and your heart will rejoice, and your joy no one will take from you. John 16:20-22

Labor is painful, but a new life bursts forth. Anguish and pain will turn to rejoicing. In the same way, dying to self is painful. But, new life bursts forth. We’ll receive beauty for ashes, and the oil of joy for mourning. WWJD? He would suffer, and He would die. But He would also burst forth – new life. Remember… He told us these things so that we would have peace. He said we would have tribulation, but to be of good cheer… for He had overcome the world. John 16:33.

You see, with me, it began with His word. And through it, I found that life was in Jesus, and that He was the light of men. I found that He shines in the darkness, and that darkness did not overcome Him. And it will not overcome me, either. For I’m following Jesus. I, too, shall overcome.

Do not rejoice over me, my enemy! Though I have fallen, I will stand up; though I sit in darkness, the LORD will be my light. Micah 7:8

In the dark

July 10, 2013by Pam Anderson4 Comments

I’m not sure how many more blogs there will be. Because it seems as if this blog has been a journey. And perhaps at some point and time, I may actually find my way. I’ve had that feeling several times now. Once, I even typed up a “Gone Fishin'” blog, and was ready to “hang it.” But, more words came. And I guess the reason I mention a possible ending is because of all the darkness. I keep going back to “dark times.” But you know, I think I already know the answer to the darkness. I’m quite sure God has told me what to do about that. But oddly, I see ahead to more twists and turns of this blog. And as I’m being led along, it appears that I’m in a holding pattern of sorts… for now. See, the light shines and beckons me. And if I can just make it there, I’ll be okay. I creep closer and closer, and drag myself to the edge of light, but then something sends me off in another direction. Delayed.

You know, I wrote a book in the fall of 2011. It’s my story… all about God & me. And at first, it was titled, “From Darkness to Light… that they may know.” But the funny thing was, the light was still out of reach. Because on the heels of writing it, I sank to such a depth of darkness, it took some time to rise above it. And so, it was last summer that I rewrote my story. As a matter of fact, I believe it was in July… one year ago. And so, the second draft was called, “My True Deliverance… Wilderness Wanderings of a Modern Day Woman.” And here I am today, still writing my story. But this time, through blog format. And what’s apparent to me today is that I’m still walking in the dark. And despite my best efforts, I persist in wandering through the desert. And so, I wonder. Perhaps what I originally thought was an offering to God… a standing stone to memorialize what He has done for me… is actually my “Farewell.” Because I am writing about what’s closest to my heart and mind. It’s everything that’s important to me… and it’s what I want for my son, and for my family, and for my friends to know. It’s everything I would want to pass on to those I care the most about. My fare ye well, so to speak.

This is what the LORD says: Cursed is the man who trusts in mankind, who makes human flesh his strength and turns his heart from the LORD. He will be like a juniper in the Arabah; he cannot see when good comes but dwells in the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt land where no one lives. Jeremiah 17:5-6

Do you know what the Arabah is? It’s desert. And this is such a picture of me. For there is still this part of me that places my trust in human flesh. There is still part of me that turns from God. And so help me, I cannot see the good when it comes. I have been dwelling in a parched place, a lonely place, a dark place… but it’s really my own doing. But you know what. I feel more hopeful right now than I have in a long while. I feel the stirrings of revival down deep in my soul. And I can sense the warmth of His light filtering through haze. Yes, hope is taking root. And it’s good.

You know… God called His people out of Egypt. He delivered them from slavery, and made Moses their leader. And after a dramatic deliverance from the Egyptians through the Red Sea, God led His chosen people through the desert on a journey to the land of promise. And at first, the people sang praises to God. But it only took a few days before praise turned to complaint. And then, complaint turned to distrust and disobedience, which kept them wandering the desert for 40 years. And it was through their wilderness wanderings that the children of Israel discovered just how much they needed God.

And then… there’s me. I felt that God delivered me from a place I didn’t want to be, and led me directly into my promised land of Virginia. But in looking back, I can see what really happened. For the footsteps that led me to my hometown really deposited me into the middle of a desert land. Because that’s how I’ve been living the past three years. I’ve been dwelling in a parched land, despite being in the very place I wanted to be more than anything. I could not see the good when it came. And so, praise turned to complaint, and then to distrust, followed up by disobedience to God! And thus, I am in the dark. And thus, God feels distant. And so, it’s here… in the midst of my wandering that I realize the truth. I know how very much I need Him. Because nothing else will work. Nothing. Because when you’re in the dark, well, quite obviously… you need a light. Eventually, you simply get tired of walking blindly.

And here’s the best part… I once was blind, but now I see. And because my sight is restored, I finally realize… there’s purpose to this darkness. See, if I never experienced the dark, how would I ever recognize the light? And the darker the days, the brighter His light burns. And so finally, this wretched soul can see. Because there is light… His light. And because His light is within me, I find that my dark is not so dark after all. And I finally understand that God has been here with me this whole time. Not just in the good times, but also in the center of the storms. He’s here in the midst of the darkness… right here with me… simply waiting for my eyes to adjust.

All the people witnessed the thunder and lightning, the sound of the trumpet, and the mountain surrounded by smoke. When the people saw it they trembled and stood at a distance. Moses responded to the people, “Don’t be afraid, for God has come to test you, so that you will fear Him and will not sin.” And the people remained standing at a distance as Moses approached the thick darkness where God was. Exodus 20:18, 20

The people feared the thunder and lightning. The dark smoke intimidated them, and so they stood at a distance. But not Moses… He knew it was God. He knew God’s nature, and did not fear the storm. And so Moses went forward… and approached the thick darkness where God was. God was in the darkness. And so, when I have those moments, I must remember. He’s with me… in the dark. And there’s purpose. It’s so that I’ll really see Him. Because when I’m at my darkest, His light shines the brightest. This is when I need Him the most.

And so, like Moses, I shall not fear the storm. Because I know God is in the midst of it. And the purpose of the dark is so that I’ll learn to trust Him. Because when I’m at my darkest, it’s then that I realize nothing else will do. Nothing but Him. Because I need Him, I’ll turn to Him. His light will draw me. For God does not intend for His children to walk in the dark. No, He calls them out of the darkness… into light.

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for His possession, so that you may proclaim the praises of the One who called you out of the darkness into His marvelous light. 2 Peter 2:9

Farewell…

July 9, 2013by Pam Anderson4 Comments

“I am now going the way of all the earth, and you know with all your heart and all your soul that none of the good promises the LORD your God made to you has failed. Everything was fulfilled for you; not one promise has failed.” Joshua 23:14

Joshua spoke the above words to the children of Israel. He had served God well, and led the Israelites into the promised land. But alas, he knew his time was coming to an end. He himself said, “I am old, getting on in years…” And so, he was fortunate in that he could leave behind some words of wisdom for his fellow people. Before his body returned to the earth… ashes to ashes and dust to dust… he was able to say what was on his heart. See, the above was part of his farewell address. And farewell is a term you don’t hear too often in the modern age… “May you fare well until we meet again.” Perhaps it sounds a bit old fashioned, but in reality, it’s beautiful. Because farewell is really an opportunity to express good wishes before parting. Farewell is really the chance to say goodbye. Farewell is an ending… and the time to say something to someone who you may never see again. Fare ye well… And so, Joshua chose to do just that. And before he died, he reminded his people of God’s goodness. He reminded them that God keeps His promises.

Tonight, I was surrounded by people who didn’t get the chance to say “Farewell.” Because sadly, a man died too young… it was unexpected, and so, there were no good-byes. There were no last I love you’s. And there was no opportunity for this man to say what was on his heart and mind, had the opportunity presented for a farewell speech. And so, broken hearts abound.

But you know… God is close. So close. And His word is full of promise. It says: The LORD is near the brokenhearted; He saves those crushed in spirit (Psalm 34:18), and, Blessed are those who mourn, because they will be comforted (Matthew 5:4). And Jesus Himself said He was sent to heal the brokenhearted (Luke 4:18). And as Joshua exhorted his own people, I shall exhort mine… For it’s true that none of the good promises the LORD God has made shall fail! Everything He said shall be fulfilled and not one promise shall fail!

See, God is close… so close. And He can hear hearts breaking all around tonight. But He’s the One who can piece each one back together again… for He created the heart. And it’s God, the maker of a million stars, who can fit a million broken hearts into His hand. Because He’s so near… that’s a promise.

And as for me, I shall bid ye farewell, until we meet again…

You’re not me…

July 6, 2013by Pam Anderson2 Comments

At times, my son would belt out, “You’re not me! You don’t know what I feel. You don’t feel like I feel.” Or something very similar. And rather than feel empathetic to his plight, I always feel angry when he says this. Because I’m the mom. Obviously, I know I am not him. And obviously, I don’t feel exactly as he does. I know this. I guess my ire is induced by the fact that he doesn’t realize that I do in fact know. I know. But as I was reduced to tears this morning while applying my green eye shadow, the same thoughts coursed through my mind. “You don’t know how I feel!” To no one specifically… just a silent, desperate cry to my bathroom walls. “You don’t know!”

I’ll soon descend to the basement for an all day cleaning fest, so the eye shadow is definitely not a necessity. But today, I feel vulnerable. I had my hair cut shorter yesterday, and with my neck exposed, I feel like I need a mask. And not just because of the extra skin that’s visible, but I feel as if my heart is on display, too. I’m wearing it on my sleeve, and so, the mask is to cover not just a new vulnerability… but a dull ache in my heart. Inexplicable, indescribable, heartache. I don’t know why. Just tears and sadness. And loneliness. More so than usual, as I was choked up and tears spewed while I was on the phone with my employer this week. I can assure you, this was a first. All I could do was mutter, “Oh, good grief,” followed by a curt, “Bye.” He must have been dumbfounded. And perhaps, embarrassed by my emotional display. A bit of drama on my part?

I am weary from my groaning; with my tears I dampen my pillow and drench my bed every night. My eyes are swollen from grief; they grow old because of all my enemies.” Psalm 6:6

The truth is, I am depressed. And since this is something I come back to (over and over again), I can actually sense the darkness before it envelops me now. But for the life of me, I can’t seem to escape! I just let it surround me rather than run for my life. And because I get depressed, there is shame. Because I know. I know! I have no earthly right to feel as I do. My two aunts who lost their children would tell me so. My friends who see me with a great husband, an adorable child, a great property and the best job in the world would tell me so. As a matter of fact, it was Thursday evening that my brother said, “You’ve got it made, you just don’t know it.” He was referring to my job. And he’s quite right. But inside, I’m screaming, “You’re not me! You don’t know what I feel. You don’t feel like I feel.” Just like my son exclaims to me. And just as I feel indifferent to his plight, so would my brother be to mine. Because the truth is… I am blessed. So blessed. And yet, I am depressed. I feel lonesome.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Facebook is one of the loneliest places in the world. Because for the one who begins to feel sorry for herself, she can be thrown so deep into a pit, she can barely see out. And with each glance at the images of happy, filled lives, more and more dirt gets heaped on top of her. And with each visit to Facebook, she can begin to feel embittered by what she sees. Can anyone relate to this? Is there anyone out there who feels like I feel? Is there anyone who has every blessing – someone who God has graced with a wonderful life – and yet, bitterness abounds? I feel there is. Because as much as this blog, this journey to the center of my soul, is just that (a journey to my innermost being), I feel there must be others just like me. And that, just as I am discovering the truth about God and me, there are those who are discovering the truth about God and themselves right alongside me. There must be.

The truth about God & me is that I love Him. To the best of my ability. And that despite an ever deepening relationship with my LORD, I am still plagued by a darkness. This is the truth. And so, I have to ask… Are you like me? Do you feel as I do? Because if you do feel the same, I know. I know. And believe it or not, I think there is purpose in it. There must be.

You know, God made a promise to me through His word. And it’s a promise we can all claim. God told me that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. The truth is, I already have seen it. If I could just believe it… if I could just live it… if I could just realize it. He says… Wait on the LORD, and to be of good courage, and that He will strengthen my heart. He tells me… Wait, I say, on the LORD! And so, I shall. Because when I find it… whatever it is that plagues me… I shall be free. And when I am truly free, oh, what a story I’ll have. Yes, darkness may descend today, but I have hope that He will shed His light.

And for now, I’ll let God quiet my cries. Because He knows. He knows. He knows how I feel, for He lives in me. And He knows why I do and say what I do. He assures me. Yes, He is not me, yet… He is part of me. And He knows how I feel. He knows. And in truth, that’s all that matters.

While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head. Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, “Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.” And they rebuked her harshly. “Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.” Mark 14:3-9

For my friend

July 3, 2013by Pam Anderson2 Comments

Every now and then, I wake up with a Bible verse running through my head or a song in my heart. See, I dream about Him. And this morning, I awoke to the following melody… “Word of God speak… would you fall down like rain… washing my eyes to see… Your majesty.” And I love it when this happens. Because it assures me. Yes, God does in fact speak. And it’s through His word.

The funny thing is, like the lyrics of the song, it was indeed raining when I woke up. But rather than lull me back to dreamland, which would be typical, I had to get up. Despite having gone to bed only five hours earlier, sleep eluded me. Because my heart is heavy for a dear friend. She’s going through a hard time. A crisis, really, as her daughter’s father passed away yesterday. And I didn’t even know it until late last night. And so, amidst the busyness of my evening activities (canning pickles), a loved one’s heart was breaking just miles away. I’m sure she feels the rain is appropriate today, shedding tears for her, and for her daughter, and for the one they lost. And so, my heart breaks alongside hers… and my heart aches for her daughter. And honestly, I find myself at a loss for words. There’s nothing I can possibly say…

I’m sure my friend is at a loss as to what to do right now, too. I’m sure she wants to comfort her daughter, but may feel inadequate to do so. Because what can possibly be said that can take away such pain? What can she say? What can I say? And so, since I am wordless, I can only offer her a song. It was on my heart this morning, and perhaps it’s for her. Perhaps it’s for Holly. May His word speak to you both today. Because really, it’s only His word that can offer comfort… and peace.

May the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and your minds… now and forever… in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:7)

The weight of Glory

July 2, 2013by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment

Then Moses said, “Please, let me see Your glory.” Exodus 33:18

I learned something this morning (thanks, Stephanie). She mentioned the above referenced passage of Scripture, and the glory of God. And although this happens to be one of my favorite passages in the Bible, I never really looked into what glory means. Because when I hear the word glory, I think I know. But Stephanie said that if you look up the root word, from which glory is derived, you find something more. Because among other meanings, glory comes from a Hebrew word that means: to be heavy, to be weighty, to be grievous, and to be burdensome. So in essence, when Moses asked for God to show him His glory, not only did he see it, but he must have felt the full weight of God’s glory. Because according to the root word, God’s glory is heavy… and weighty. And Moses was near to God. He was with God. Oh, I’m sure… he felt God’s glory.

And the meaning of the word is not at all what I expected to find. See, my son has described God’s glory as sparkle and shine. And truth be known, this is what I always believed God’s glory to be. And so, perhaps it’s this weightiness that I lack today. Because if God’s glory is weighty, shouldn’t I be driven to my knees. Like in Old Testament times, shouldn’t I fall face down to the ground when I encounter the living God in my own living room? Because in the pages of Scripture, you see people doing this again and again. Because when they felt God’s glory… the heaviness pressed them to the ground.

You know, after Moses spent time with God, his own face shone. So indeed, God’s glory is sparkle and shine. But it’s so much more. Because the Israelites were afraid to even come near Moses, so radiant was his face. And this is what the glory of God can do… inspire heaviness and reverence and a holy fear. Because He is God. He is glory. And like Moses, shouldn’t our own faces reflect that light… that glory… after we spend time with Him?

Unfortunately, a byproduct of our hectic lives is heaviness… but not the heaviness of God’s glory. We tend to carry heavy loads and burdens that we’re not meant to bear. We tend to be so consumed by the problems that lie before us, that we are weighed down under the strain. And so, we can miss it… His glory. So weighed down by burdens, we overlook the heaviness of His glory. Rather than knees that bend in worship, our knees are bent because the weight of the world has been laid upon our shoulders. But it doesn’t have to be this way, for we have another option. We have an invitation from Jesus…

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

It’s rest that we need. Rest from the craziness of life. It was Henry Drummond (1851-1897), who said, “Rest is not a hallowed feeling that comes over us in church, it is the repose of a heart set deep in God.” Jesus promises us that rest. We simply need to unyoke ourselves from that which keeps us deep down, and align ourselves to Him. His ways. For His burden is light. And when we arrive there… to a heart deeply set in God… the trials and tribulations of this world will dim in comparison to the light of His glory. When we set our hearts and minds on the things above, eternal things, the weight and cares of this world will fall away. And then, that worldly load will be lifted. And then, like Moses, we will not only see God’s glory, but we will feel His glory. We just need take the load off, for in actuality, Jesus has already born the weight of it all. Eternally speaking, the weight has already been lifted. Eternally speaking, God’s glory is right there near us…

Then He replied, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” Then Moses said, “Please, let me see Your glory.” The LORD said, “Here is a place near Me. You are to stand on the rock, and when My glory passes by, I will put you in the crevice of the rock and cover you with My hand until I have passed by. Then I will take My hand away, and you will see My back, but My face will not be seen.” Exodus 33:14, 18, 21-23

God’s glory is heavy. It’s so heavy that we cannot even gaze upon His face. Just perhaps, when we let Jesus carry the weight or our burdens like we’re supposed to… just maybe, then, we will then feel the full weight of God’s glory. Just maybe it will be His very own hand that covers us, and presses us down in worship. For He is worthy. We just need to take the load off…

Too full to see

July 1, 2013August 23, 2022by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment

The below content is from June 23, 2013. Yesterday, something out of the clear blue sky gave me the greatest sense of wonder and it reminded me of this old writing. Not coincidentally, my wonderment occurred the afternoon of my son’s 16th birthday. So, in honor of my beautiful son, and the absolute privilege and gift it is to be his mother, I repost…

And just now, I smile at the sparkle I witness in his eye here. Because it’s the same he held at six. Thus, my birthday wish for Levi is that as he matures, he never loses his sense of wonder.

Too Full to See – June 23, 2013

The past two weeks have been full… so full. It was last Friday when I came home to a full sink, a full hamper and a full inbox. And today, I sent well over a hundred emails for work. In my kitchen, I have four full buckets of produce for canning. That’ll be my task for tomorrow. And right now, I am bone weary.

All I can see is what lies before me…

And tonight, honestly, all I feel is tired. But this morning, I felt differently. It was then I tasted a bit of God’s word. And it was what I read at daylight that’s been hovering on the outer edges of my brain all day. It’s what I’ve been wanting to simmer in all day. But I couldn’t stay there… in His word. No, I had to move on.

Chores to do, job commitments, and a son to raise. Life entered the holy hush of the morning, and it hasn’t been quiet since. Not till now.

I’ve come to the conclusion the way we live our lives today cannot be part of God’s plan for us. Our daily schedules are much too full. And for the life of me, I cannot seem to find the exit ramp from the fast lane. Try as I might, I cannot seem to eliminate the busyness. And thus, my days stay full. Thus, I can’t see!

Because life is too full to see, I don’t glimpse the wonder of a holy God.

No, all I can focus on are the dishes, and the paperwork, and the dirty clothes. And sadly, I lose the wonder of life. Because life is a blur. I move way too fast to behold the glory of each moment. And so, I’ve decided. I want it back.

I want the wonder back in my life.

The past few months, I’ve watched at least 150 Andy Griffith shows. And it’s awakened a hunger within me. It’s the call of simplicity I hear in the distance and it’s what I crave. Episode after episode, I watched Andy Taylor sitting on his front porch, slowly strumming his guitar. I watched his friends join him in song. I watched him take time to explain things to his son. I watched, and ached, for that life-style. And unfortunately, it’s truly a thing of the past.

Not often will you find people sitting around the front stoop singing songs and enjoying life. No more can we stop and smell the roses… or more importantly, the Rose of Sharon. Simply, we’re much too busy.

It was parade night last week and even that awakened something deep inside. Sadness, perhaps? Or nostalgia… because a parade is not what it once was. At least not in our small town.

See, I eagerly looked forward to the carnivals when I was a child. And parade night was the best. So many people, so many smells. Lights and sirens. And the best part of the parade was the thumping of the drums you could feel inside your chest. But the last few parades I’ve attended had no high school bands. And not many majorettes. This type of parade is becoming extinct.

And so, I’ve lost the wonder of it.

But my son… he still has it. His eyes sparkled and shone with anticipation. He could hardly contain his giggles and ran around in circles when it was time for the parade. Yes, my son still holds the wonder of life. He still basks in the pure pleasure of each day. And this is what I want… what he has.

I want to bottle up how he feels and drink deeply. I want to remove myself from the fullness, and the busyness, so I can see. Oh, God, please help me to see the wonder of it all. In the midst of each day, help me to stop. Help me to gaze upon Your creation with new eyes. Help me to see – to really see – the wonders of this world. And the wonder that You are…

In Habakkuk 1:5 we read, “Look at the nations and observe – be utterly astounded! For something is taking place in your days that you will not believe when you hear about it.” And that’s it right there. Look. Observe. But this takes time.

See, we can hear about something all day long. But when we have firsthand knowledge of it (whatever it may be), it changes us. If we want to live fully and abundantly, as He so intends, then we must look and see and observe. We must pay close attention to this thing called life. Otherwise we may miss it all. And that would be a shame. That’s not what God has in store for His children. No, He wants us to be like our very own offspring… full of wonder.

God doesn’t want us to be so full of busyness that we miss His awe-inspiring works. He wants us to witness just how majestic and holy and wonderful He truly is. But first, we must pause our hectic lifestyles and drink in what lies before us.

His creation.

If we stay still long enough, and open our eyes wide enough, just maybe we’ll see what He wants us to see.

The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows His handiwork.
Day unto day utters speech, and night unto night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard.
Their line has gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world. Psalm 19:1-4 (NKJV)

“Talitha Koum!”

June 28, 2013by Pam Anderson2 Comments

You know… I am passionate about God’s word. I can completely fill up on the pages of Scripture, and it takes real effort to pull myself away at times. Because I find it addictive. And it was through several years of devouring God’s word that I developed another passion… God’s women. That’s because for so long, this woman simply went through the motions of church, and all that implies. Honestly, it’s only recently that I’ve begun to know God. And I’ve come to know Him through His word. And because I have developed such a taste for Scripture, I want other women to be as hungry as I am. I want them to know what I know. And so, my passion is for God’s word, and for His women.

And Vacation Bible School? Well, that’s something I haven’t felt so passionate about. Because it’s for kids, right? And so, I volunteered only because it was something I thought I should do. I simply told the person in charge to put me where she wanted to put me. And the truth is (shamefully), I wasn’t really looking forward to it. My heart just wasn’t in it. Because in my mind, it wasn’t about God’s women. Or so I thought.

And so, this week I was pleasantly surprised. Because although I was placed with 4th through 6th graders (who intimidate the heck out of me), I was blessed. Although I wouldn’t have selected this age group had I signed up myself, I found my nerves subsiding. See, my child is only six, so I don’t have those older kid skills yet. And because kids don’t come naturally to me, I usually feel awkward with children beyond my son’s age. And so, what I found within my heart this week caught me off guard. Because what I found inside was unexpected and wonderful. I found love. Real love. And most particularly… I felt it for those precious girls.

Do you know what 4th through 6th grade girls are? Why, they’re mini-women. And right now, they are full of life. Their faces are bright and shining, and grins and laughs abound. They have energy… they have love… and they have hope. Some are exceedingly confident and some are quiet and shy. But all in all, I saw happy girls at Vacation Bible School. Full girls. And so, my heart ached. It broke just a little because I know that they are right there on the edge. I know what they’re likely to come face to face with in just a few short years. I know because I was just like them. I clearly remember how I took things to heart. Because girls, well, they’re fragile. They’re sensitive. And they’re breakable. And before long, these girls will enter the school of hard knocks. And I just have to wonder what they will be like afterward. Will life dull the shine? Will circumstances still the laughter? Will reality quell hope? Is their fullness enough to carry them through?

You know… the truth is some of these mini-women have already endured hard knocks. I saw it when a man spoke harshly to a young girl this week. He didn’t mean anything by it, and it wasn’t really a big deal. But, I cringed inside. Because I remember how I felt. See, a hasty command issued in a stern tone can be humiliating to a young girl. Especially when everyone else hears. So cutting. And yet, she kept smiling. But I wondered… how was her inside at that moment? And kids… you know, they get so excited. In their eagerness, they forget about other people. And so, they can push. And although it was only for a short while, I saw when a young girl shut down. Her arms crossed in front of her, and her face fell as she backed into the wall. She didn’t want to get pushed further aside. And then there’s home life. In speaking with a couple of moms, I found some young women already have hurts and anxieties. And in reality, they have already entered the school of hard knocks. The truth is, some of them have endured the blows of life… some being knocked down already. God’s girls… His mini-women. And my heart aches for them. Because I want them to know what I know.

Then He took the child by the hand and said to her, “Talitha Koum!” (which is translated, “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”) Immediately the girl got up and began to walk. (She was 12 years old.) Mark 5:41-42

These girls, who are really just mini-women, touched my heart this week. But I am hopeful for them. See, they have a foundation and are building their lives on Christ. And no doubt, they will get knocked down in life. Because life is full of harsh people… and pushy people… and disappointment… and heartache. They’ve had only a taste of the bitterness life can afford them. But they’ve also tasted the sweet… Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus. I want them to know that when life knocks them down, they can get up. I hope they hear Him when He calls to them, “Talitha Koum!” I hope these mini-women graduate from the school of hard knocks with honors. May their testimonies be honoring to God when all is said and done.

Yes, I have such passion… I am passionate for God’s women. But also for His word. Because it’s His word that sustains me and keeps me going. I know that God has issued an open invitation to His banquet, and that He supplies us with fresh manna daily. We just need to open our mouths, and Bibles, and feast. We must fill up on His word, so that we have enough sustenance to carry us through. Because the school of hard knocks is lengthy. And life is harsh. People are pushy, and we can be knocked down. It’s His word that will help us stand up again. What Jesus said in Mark 5:43 holds true today. He said that “she should be given something to eat.” Let’s give these young girls… these mini-women… the word of God. Let’s show them how to feast on the pages of Scripture. So that when they fall, they’ll remember what He said:

“Little girl, I say to you, get up!”

And may she rise.