Christian – Page 13 – painter's daughter (a work in progress)

A Tale of Two Kitties

August 26, 2013by Pam Anderson6 Comments

I may or may not have two cats. One is safe in the house, but the other is nowhere to be seen. It was yesterday at 5:00 that he lay stretched out across my deck in the sunshine. He slowly washed his paws and looked as if he were going to take a nap. And, we left our home expecting to see him when we returned. But last night, there was no flash in the dark… no reflected light off his white tufts of fur. He did not bound up the back yard toward us, which was his usual routine. And so, this morning, my heart is heavy – wondering if I will see him again.

I can’t help but contrast my two kitties, Otis and Molly. For they are different in every way. Otis is young, and Molly is old. Otis is skinny and Molly is fat. He is full of life and energetic, and she is heavy and content to sleep. He delights us every day with his antics, while she is usually nowhere to be seen. He stays outside, and she stays inside. He is a lover of adventure, and she is a lover of the dark. He is highly visible, jumping and leaping and hunting and climbing. She stays covered and hidden and scurries and flees. He is fearless and she is fearful. Basically, Otis uses what he has, and Molly does not. And as of this morning, she is here… and he is not.

Yesterday morning, my pastor preached a sermon using the Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25). And believe it or not, it’s my two kitties that bring this parable to light for me. See, although the passage stresses using money wisely to further the kingdom of God, it goes deeper than that. It doesn’t have to be money, it could be anything… the abilities and the talents and the gifts that God has bestowed upon us. And it was Matthew 25:29 that nearly knocked me over yesterday. Because it happens to be identical to a verse I pointed out to my husband earlier that morning – only it was Mark 4:25. “For whoever has, to him more will be given; but whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken away from him.” I told my husband, we need to embrace what we have! Little did I know that I would be hearing more about it at church. And I didn’t realize how personal the sermon was going to be… a message from God directly to me.

He also said to them, “Is a lamp brought in to be put under a basket or under a bed? Isn’t it to be put on a lampstand? For nothing is concealed except to be revealed, and nothing hidden except to come to light. If anyone has ears to hear, he should listen!” Then He said to them, “Pay attention to what you hear. By the measure you use, it will be measured and added to you. For to the one who has, it will be given, and from the one who does not have, even what he has will be taken away.” Mark 4:21-25

This morning, I wanted to see if Mark 4:25 is the same parable that I find in Matthew 25. But it’s not… and it’s the passage in Mark that really brought all this together for me. The parable in Matthew along with the book of Mark completes the picture, and what I find is Molly. She is truly a night-time kitty. Occasionally, you’ll find her during the day, but more often than not, when the sun rises… she’s gone. She’s just too skittish. Years ago, her favorite refuge was our bed. All you could see of her was a lump in the center where she had burrowed down deep under the covers. She stayed hidden. And today, you may catch a glimpse of her tail as she scurries down the steps to the basement. Or maybe if you peer under the beds, you’ll find her shining eyes staring back at you. Or perhaps you’ll find her in her newest hang-out, which we discovered recently when we heard a racket behind the closed doors of our closet. Yes, Molly is a lover of darkness, and will stay hidden most of the day. But, she is making progress. When it’s just me at home, she may venture out into the daylight. But generally, I’ll see her once the sun has set and quietness has settled on our home. This is when she emerges and graces me with her presence. And when I see her, I am delighted by her black fur, her huge eyes, and her big fat belly that nearly touches the ground, swaying back and forth as she scampers from here to there. She’s 14 years old now, so she hasn’t kept her sleek physique. The picture of her is from long ago…

You know… I talk about Molly being a lover of the dark, but in reality, I am the same way. In truth, I have been clinging to the dark every bit as much as she does. I know this to be reality because not that long ago, God showed me something so hideous. Actually, it was just after I made the decision to take a break from blogging. I thought I knew why I was taking a step back, but now, I’m pretty sure I hadn’t a clue. For there was something within me I wasn’t fully aware of at the time. See, on August 1, I said to myself, no more writing! But it was not till August 2 that God revealed what lie beneath… and that is what needed to come to the surface. For as the Lord says, nothing is concealed except to be revealed, and nothing hidden except to come to light…

Through the course of my blogging experience, I have often referred to my struggle with darkness. I’ve surreptitiously referred to it as an issue, a pattern, or even a stronghold – always careful – always tiptoeing around the word sin. But sin is sin, and darkness is darkness, and the pages of Scripture leave no trace of doubt in my heart:

The one who says he is in the light but hates his brother is in the darkness until now. The one who loves his brother remains in the light, and there is no cause for stumbling in him. But the one who hates his brother is in the darkness, walks in darkness, and doesn’t know where he’s going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes. 1 John 2:9-11

This is the truth about God & me. I love Him the best I know how. I have been seeking Him the best I know how. But there is a part of me that I’ve been holding back… clinging to the hate that resides deep down. I have been stoking the fire for years. And as long as I hold to hate… there will be darkness. This is what I’ve been trying to process for the past three weeks. And for the life of me, some stuff remains in my heart. I’m trying… I really am. And so, I am like Molly… my black kitty who is a lover of the shroud of darkness. She hides out and runs away. She stays concealed, because it’s safe to her. The bulk of her life has been spent in darkness. And me, too…

And then there’s Otis. I don’t know that he’ll return to me and my heart aches. But you know… in one short year, he has lived a full life. He has lived so much more than Molly, for he has experienced a world she will never know. This cat called Otis has embraced life. He has let his light shine in view of anyone who would give him audience. He used what God gave him… with claws as sharp as needles, he scaled great heights and saw further than Molly ever will. With legs as fast as lightning, he covered distances that Molly will never know. With courage the size of Texas, he explored the wilderness behind our home… woods in which Molly will never travel. With the fury of a skilled hunter, he took down countless foes and laid them as gifts upon our doorstep. Otis was a burning lamp, and he did not hide his light under a basket. He used what he had. And Molly? Why, she hides herself away, nestled down in the safety of her darkness – which is her only reality. Molly may never embrace the light, but Otis fully did.

And then, there’s me. I am a work in progress. So much like Molly, but with all my heart, I want to be like Otis. Like him, I want to embrace the light. I want to shine the light. And more than anything, I want to use what God gave me. And so, not long ago, I ventured out. But too quickly, like a scared animal, I tucked my tail up under my body and retreated back into hiding. But alas, there are truths that must be shared. There are things within me that must come out. For they’ve been there so long – buried deep, festering and brewing and bubbling in the dark. But like a volcano erupts forth in violence, so has my heart. And ever since, the lava of wrath has been pouring forth – emptying itself so that no darkness remains. Everything I thought better hidden… everything that held me captive… has finally presented itself to the light. See, I have been chasing the light. I’ve been writing about it, and reaching for it. And now, I can really see…

I thought that morning light had fully broken over my soul. But like one who emerges from the heaviness of sleep, I rub my tired eyes and face the truth. And now I know… what I thought was the fullness of morning light was really just the faintest glimmer of the dawn. But morning light is on the horizon. The darkness of hate shall be left behind. And Otis? He may turn up yet. For he may be out there right now… simply using what God gave him to use… a lamp shining bright.

Everything exposed by the light is made clear, but what makes everything clear is light. Therefore it is said: Get up, sleeper, and rise up from the dead, and the Messiah will shine on you. Ephesians 5:13-14

Something greater

August 1, 2013August 1, 2013by Pam Anderson3 Comments

Three years ago, I turned to God. In a way I never had before. Sincerely and wholly. I was desperate for Him. And then the miracle took place. God answered my prayer, and He sent me to my homeland. It was what I wanted more than anything. And upon entrance into what I considered the “promised land,” I found a dry and desolate place instead. I walked straight into the wilderness, spiritually speaking. And so, God gave me my greatest desire, but there was leanness in my soul. And so… two years ago, I again turned to God. Just as the first time, I was desperate for Him. And once again, a miracle took place. I began to find Him. I mean, really find Him. He began to lead me through His word. And words that always held meaning began to mean so much more. Words that were weighty, became even greater. Because they spoke to me personally.

During the summer of 2011, the thought came to me that I should write. Not just once, but several times… and so I finally embraced it. I was given a dream, and with God’s help, I knew that I could do what He said. But I delayed. What a daunting task for one who had never written before. But in the fall of 2011, an email detailing a Christian writing contest was delivered right into my inbox. This bolted me into action. And so, writing is what I have been doing ever since. Writing and composing… for God. And I’ve been completely and utterly, impassioned and inspired by His lovely words.

My heart is overflowing with a good theme;
I recite my composition concerning the King;
My tongue is the pen of a ready writer. Psalm 45:1

Yes, I was given a dream. And with all my heart, I believe it was the Giver of all dreams who blessed me with the desire to write. But as time passes, this lovely dream of mine becomes tainted. A heart divided, and too much self-ambition has turned this joy of mine into an idol. And God is clear… one cannot serve two masters. And so, for now… I know what I need to do. It’s time for me to give the dream back. God cautioned me several times the past couple of years, but my heart was too thick and my ears were too dull to listen. I was too prideful. See, it was through the words of a long ago prophet that God spoke plainly. Jeremiah may have been speaking to Baruch, a scribe who wrote out Jeremiah’s words, but it was as if God were speaking right into my ear…

And do you seek great things for yourself? Do not seek them… Jeremiah 45:5

Oh, yes. God knows the heart. And He gives dreams. But when the dream becomes bigger than the One who gave the dream, it’s time to give the dream back. I want to hold on to it… because it’s my dream. But, I’m certain God is saying, “Give it back.” At least for now. And you know the funny thing? As I lay my dream at God’s feet, putting it aside… He gives birth to a new dream. But this one is not mine. This one’s for my husband, who has been given a dream of his own. And so, as I slide my dream to the backburner, perhaps it’s time for my husband to bring his to the forefront. (If you haven’t read The Dream Giver by Bruce Wilkinson, please do!)

Believe me, I’ve struggled with this. Because I still have so many blogs in my head, and ideas within the pages of my journal, and so many things I want to say. But there’s no doubt. God has drawn me in this direction a few times now. But I’ve hesitated. I’ve procrastinated. I’ve been holding tight to that dream. Inside, just like a child, I scream, “MINE, MINE, MINE!” But you know… my dream has grown so big, it looms before me. It becomes what I see first and biggest, and so, I see Him secondly and smaller. His voice that was so clear two years ago is not as easy to hear. My heightened awareness to His working in my life has been dulled. And so I have a choice. I can grasp desperately at this dream of mine, hoping it will satisfy. Or, I can hold out for something greater. And that something greater is Him. And the choice is not as hard as I thought. Because I want Him more. He’s the whole point of the writing in the first place. And if I lose Him through the process, then doesn’t that defeat the purpose?

You know, at the top of this blog it says, “The truth about God & me.” Perhaps I should have typed out, “The embarrassing truth about God & me.” Because I just have to share one more dream with you. I don’t know about you, but I have vivid dreams. And I remember many of them. It was just this past week that I shared one with my husband. In my dream, I ran into Beth Moore (of Living Proof Ministries – great Bible teacher/speaker). When I saw her, I told her what a fan I was. And then, well, here’s the embarrassing part… I dreamt that Beth Moore turned to me and said that she was my fan, too!! Okay… even in sleep, my dream of being a successful writer has overtaken me. Talk about being overly-ambitious! And so, since Beth Moore has been at the forefront of my mind lately, I think it’s appropriate to end this blog with her words. For she has so inspired me in my journey toward God… this is what I read this morning:

“Discontent with selfishness and weary of ego, we finally become willing to lose ourselves to something greater. In doing so, we find Christ as we’ve never known Him and, there, pooled in the reflection of His eyes, startle to discover that a part of ourselves resemble Him.” Beth Moore/Esther study

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

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.

Does she know?

June 20, 2013July 16, 2013by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment

I’m studying the book of Esther. And through the second chapter, I learned that this young, Jewish woman (who became the queen of Persia) was beautiful in both form and face. Basically, she was a knock out. And not only that, her beauty was more than skin deep. There was just something about Esther that made her so likeable… to both men and women. Because she won the favor of everyone she came into contact with. It sounds like she had it all, doesn’t it? But no, if you read closely you see that she must have had some sadness in her life, for she was orphaned. Because she had no parents, her cousin adopted her and raised her as his own. And not only that, because the king put forth a decree, she was taken to the palace along with all the other beautiful women. So Esther, who had lost her parents, was then abruptly taken from the only one she knew as a father. So realistically, she didn’t have it all. She only looked like it. And the amazing thing is that despite her less than favorable circumstances, she retained a sweet soul. She had to have, for she gained favor wherever she went. She must have positively glowed… inside and out. Do you know anyone like that?

Yesterday, I wondered if there was someone like this in my life. But sadly, no one came to mind. Because I must be honest… if I know a drop-dead, gorgeous woman, there may be the smallest part of me that feels a little bit jealous. And maybe, I feel a hint of intimidation. So, really, no one readily came to mind yesterday. But this morning, I thought of someone. See, I’m memorizing a new verse…

I would have lost heart unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living… Psalm 27:13

“Lost heart” captured my attention. Another version of the Bible says it this way… “I am certain that I will see the LORD’s goodness.” This verse is all about faith. This verse exhibits such hope. The psalmist who wrote this fully expects to see God’s goodness in the land. And this made me think of a woman I know. She happens to be exceedingly beautiful. Not only that, her beauty is more than skin deep. Whenever I am in her presence, I feel happy to be with her. She is sweet and authentic and lovely… but in reality, she doesn’t have it all. See, her circumstances are less than favorable. This woman has two boys, both with a disease called Duchenne muscular dystrophy. Her days are hard, and her heart must positively ache at times. But you would never, ever know it. For her attitude is always uplifting. This woman gains the favor of all those who see her (Esther 2:15). And coincidentally (or not so coincidentally), this woman posted something on her Facebook page yesterday that moved me. Perhaps this is what brought her to mind today:

“I want to thank God even for the afflictions, pain, hardships and discouragement I have met with over the years, for through them I have realized God’s ever-loving presence no matter how hard things may be.”

Amazing. I just bet you this woman has faith that runs through to her marrow. I’m sure that with each new dawn, she has fresh hope. Because she has to… for her boys. They are her life. This woman has to look to God. She must believe and never give up… or else she would lose heart. But for her boys, she will endure. She will not lose heart for she believes that she will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. I’m sure she feels that way… she must. But I just have to wonder… would I be that strong? Could I be?

And so, today, I find it’s her birthday. Perhaps that’s why God brought her to mind this morning. And today, on her birthday, I wonder if she knows. Does she know how much she inspires the people who know her? Does she know what a light she is in this dark world? Does she know that she gives hope to each one of us? Does she know that I want to be just like her… and that I admire her… and that if I am ever surrounded by such circumstances, I hope and pray that I could stand in faith… as she does. I would hope that I could follow her lead, and be of good courage, and that I would wait on the LORD… as she does. And, does she know how very, beautiful she is… both inside and out? Does she know??

Today, it’s her birthday. And so today, I ask you to please surround her. Bathe her in prayer and lift her up. Because she deserves it. Pray for those boys, I implore you, and pray for this woman, who is exceedingly beautiful. Pray that she will rejoice and that she will endure. And pray that she will see the goodness of the LORD. Pray, so that she’ll know. See, I want her to know, for her birthday, just how beautiful she really is… to all of us.

And not only that, but we also rejoice in our afflictions, because we know that affliction produces endurance, endurance produces proven character, and proven character produces hope. This hope does not disappoint, because God’s love has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. Romans 5:3-5

Quicksand

June 19, 2013by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment

Perhaps you’re familiar with the quicksand scenes in movies. Wikipedia states that during the 1960’s, nearly 3% of all films included such a scene… you know, someone begins to sink in mud or sand or clay and they began to flail about in a panicked way. Coincidentally, I just saw such a scene in Wreck-It Ralph. And inevitably, someone cautions, “Don’t move!” Because apparently, the more you move, the quicker you sink. But you know what… according to Wikipedia, this does not happen in real life. This type of scene is unrealistic and one being fully submerged in quicksand is purely fiction. And metaphorically, I find this to be true in my own life – spiritually speaking, that is.

For the past week, I have been fully submerged in God’s word and captivated by verses regarding His spiritual food and drink. And how simple it all sounds… “Come to me, eat and drink.” And it’s beautiful and seems so simple. But realistically and practically, how do you do that? How does one drink living water and feast on the bread of life? And at the risk of sounding over simplistic, I have found that it is just that… simple. Because eating and drinking and resting in Him is dependent on one thing… faith. Yes, we can come to Him, but “come” will take us only as far as our faith will carry us. So that’s the question… do we have faith in God? Do we really trust Him with our lives and every, single circumstance? Or do we still place our faith in man and precarious situations that can change at any given moment. And here’s truth… if we trust in the temporal, then we’re building on sand. And if we trust in only what we can see, then we end up focusing more on the problems at hand than on the God who can do all things. And when our troubles loom larger in our sight than God, we sink…

For troubles without number have surrounded me; my sins have overtaken me; I am unable to see. They are more then the hairs on my head, and my courage leaves me. Psalm 40:12

Only faith in God can hold us upright. And that type of faith can only be cultivated over time. I know, because after fifteen years of walking with God, I finally have a track record with Him. See, I am a worrier by nature. I tend to fret about the things I have no control over. It’s what I do. But now I can see, time and again, that God has always taken care of me. Always. No matter how many times I sank down in fear and anxiety about what might have been, God never let go of me utterly. He never released His grip on me, and by His grace, I never fully submerged in the muck of my making. God always brought me through it, whatever it may have been. And so it’s only now, after fifteen years, that I can see what’s taken place. It’s only through the years of walking with God, that my faith has been established.

Therefore as you have received Christ Jesus the Lord, walk in Him, rooted and built up in Him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. Colossians 2:6

I was amused when I read about quicksand. I’m no scholar, so I confess I don’t understand all of it. But pieces of it came together for me. Specifically, the fact that quicksand consists of three elements. One, a fine granular material (such as sand or silt), clay and water. And what a picture of our lives here! See, God is the Potter, and we are the clay. And we have unlimited access to His living water. And the sand? Well, “like sand through the hour glass, so are the days or our lives”… And what I find incredibly interesting is the fact that quicksand forms in loose sand when the sand is suddenly agitated. The way I see it, the sand is our every day activities. And the best we can hope for is that our sand (or circumstances) is loose so that we can walk freely, unencumbered. But it’s only when the sand becomes suddenly agitated that we’ll know how deep our faith runs. In other words, when the pressures of life begin to mount, and when our schedules become more compressed, and when we feel restricted in some way… will we sink or will we stand? Will our faith hold us up? Because the fact is, quicksand forms in both standing water or in upwards flowing water. See, even if we’re fully immersed in God’s free flowing, living water, the sand can suddenly be agitated. It makes no difference where we are (spiritually), because quicksand can form. As Jesus said, troubles will come. So, will our faith hold us up, or will the burdens of life threaten to bury us. Will we stand, or will we sink?

The truth about God & me is that I’ve not always stood. It’s only in looking back that I can see this. But now, I have a track record with God. I can see His hand upon my every step. And so, my faith is deepened. And I have hope… the hope that next time I will stand. We all can. Because whether we realize it or not, we have a firm place to rest our feet. For Christ is the solid rock. And all that other ground is simply sinking sand.

I waited patiently for the LORD, and He turned to me and heard my cry for help. He brought me up from a desolate pit, out of the muddy clay, and set my feet on a rock, making my steps secure. Psalm 40:1-2