Fullness of Joy ~My cry, the Lord's faithful reply

Fullness of Joy

Oh Lord 

I have heard 

“in your presence is fullness of joy”

-faith makes me believe these words are true 

but grieving leads me to long for this place.   

Is there a place free from pain?  

 I do not doubt the existence of Heaven, 

but surely Lord you see my tears.   

Surely, they beckon you to me.   

Will this joy come and dispel my tears?   

Will you not come and share this place with me?  

 If there is fullness of joy in your presence, 

then equally as true, 

there must also be fullness of sadness in your presence.   

A true embracing of all that exists that should be grieved over.   

All that hurts, 

all that dies, 

all that is unfair and grievous.   

Surely you know all and have even wept yourself.   

So this "fullness of joy" 

that seams to stand contrary to my pain,

makes me feel as if I could not be in your presence 

and still grieve. 

The words taunt me.   

Surely my tears are the doorway to your presence. 

 I weep for my sins, 

for others pain, 

for my pain, 

for injustice, 

surely you weep for all this as well, 

so this “fullness of joy” 

must include tears 

and an awareness of pain 

and an embracing of all that hurt.

Weeping…  Please answer me…

My Daughter, your pain is not joyful to me.   

And I sit with you in your grieving.   

So this joy in my presence is not what leads others to laughter, 

it’s a well being, 

a knowledge that all is well 

and in my hands.   

Know that grieving is not sin 

and not absence from me.   

But rejoice in your sadness 

that joy will come in the morning 

and there will be a fullness of joy 

when we walk together by the crystal sea. 

 It will help you to yearn for that day 

as you battle the trials today,  

knowing that on that day 

all this will be a faint memory

and all eternity 

will build on those moments 

we share together now.   

We can cry together, 

laugh together 

and hope together 

as we spend time together.   

Rest in the knowledge 

that all you see 

is not all there is to life 

and great joy awaits you 

on that day.

c. Kim Damon 2008

Jesus’ Feet and Hands [4th in a series of 4 written for Holy Week]

I drove the nails in.

Blow by blow.

Looking at this miracle worker’s

Hands,

I thought of the healing they had brought.

Not once since the arrest

had I seen him fight back;

Raise a fist,

or block a blow.

Again, blow by blow

I drove the nails in

and looking at his feet

I imagined all the places

He had walked

the people

He had helped.

I was crippling a man

who spent his life

doing good…

As I nailed him to the cross,

I permanently prevented

his hands from healing again.

Oh God, I’m sorry!

I caused such pain

to One,

so full of love.

How could you ever

forgive me?

My hands struck his face

And covered his eyes

when the love I saw

was more than I could bare.

His hands, touched the blind

and gave them sight.

His hands, touched the lepers

and made them clean.

His hands reached up to His Father

And brought the dead back to life. His beautiful hands…His beautiful feet Oh God I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… My road has lead to ruin and violence, destruction, pain and death. His road has lead to love. Many were healed of diseases and set free from demons… As I look back, I know … I was longing to cross over and follow the “narrow road” I wanted to leave behind the life of sin I’d chosen. Now, I follow Him. My feet have chosen His path. My hands will serve others with love. The “King of the Jews” is my King I put my life in His hands, And worship at His feet.

Jesus’ back/shoulders

Monday (18 April 2011)

I used the whip to tear his back and shoulders

into pieces of ragged meat!

I commanded him to carry the crossbeam

to his own death.

I shouldn’t have been surprised

when I had to call an on looker

to assist him.

But the compassion I saw

was in Jesus’ eyes

not the Cyrene’s.

It was as if Jesus

was the one lifting burdens.

Something inside me knew

what I was seeing

was more than a human event.

There was something different about this man.

No one ever reacted like this.

Why didn’t he hate me?!

Why wasn’t he angry?

Where were his threats of revenge?

Who was this man,

this “king of the Jews”?

What have I done?

Who is this man...

Wow, am I getting jumpy. 

I must be on edge from all that happened today. 

It was really,

a day like any other.

With the angry crowds shouting at some criminal 

and demanding we “Crucify Him!”

Pilot seemed scared of this man though,

Handing down judgment

he washed his hands.

He received the most severe beating,

one lash short of death.

Mind you,

I normally like my job,

but somehow,

it all felt wrong today.

This man didn’t turn away

or try and hide his face,

even when we mocked him

and spit in his face.

He was not ashamed of his punishment,

or insulted by our hatred of him.

He didn’t curse us

or plead and beg us to stop.

He made no threats.

No,

he received

willingly

his wounds

and looked at me

with a loving gaze.

I couldn’t stand it!

At one point,

I blindfolded him

and covered his eyes.

Why didn’t he hate me?!

I’m good at what I do.

I’m the strongest man

In my (regiment)

Still,

I knew by his behavior,

He was stronger than me.

He wasn’t angry.

Somehow,

He embraced this punishment,

willingly.

I don’t get it!

I just don’t understand.

Who is this man?

The two of me...

I saw myself and the sins that seem so easily to entrap me and the thoughts that I shouldn’t think and I didn’t like my identity.

I imagined “me”, next to myself, always making the right choices, always able to think the right thoughts and I wanted to be that “me”.

The more I looked at the sin in my life and the patterns of thinking that I know is wrong, the more I just wished I could transport over to the other “me”.  

Even just for a day. 

Could you imagine it? 

Me, always making the most of every opportunity.  

Always rejecting the enemy and choosing Gods way;

in speech,

in action,

in thought.

Oh, I wished for that life. 

God, even just for a day!  

I think it would feel so good.

I wouldn’t miss a thing.

I wouldn’t regret any part of what I gave up.

This desire to transport was such a powerful alluring picture for me, it stayed with me all day, honestly, it came and went and came again.  Like a persistent hunger pain that goes away for a while if you drink soda or nibble on some chips.  

But when it was quiet, again, I faced it, and talked with God about it.  I heard things like:  If my words abide in you and you abide in me…and…those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be filled…

And as I listened, the two of my lives began to merge.  I fought the image at first, thinking, “No! God, no!”  I don’t want to tarnish the good life with my bad choices and sin.  But the truth is and was He has always been there wishing I would listen and rooting for me to make better choices.  He has been sad about the joy I have missed out on by the thoughts I’d been thinking.  

So I spent time repenting the things that easily make me stumble, in thought, deed and word and I knew God was always with me.  The “life” I wanted was always there waiting for me with every moment of my day.  I pictured God with me in this righteous life I desired and indeed God showed me that I already had (to some degree).

I pictured messing up in conversation with someone and gossiping or just not honoring someone else. I would know it was wrong and stop myself, apologize to the listener and start giving the other person the benefit of the doubt, and even admit my weaknesses and Gods grace to forgive us all.  Maybe we would even pray repentance together and pray a blessing on whomever we had dishonored.  

God would be glorified,

faith would grow,

love would grow,

the Holy Spirit would move,

the Father would be so proud,

Jesus would be more in love than ever.

Win!

More prayer...

God I want to listen better.  

God I want to obey faster.

God I want to honor you more faithfully,

abide in you more constantly,

make the most of every opportunity.  

Here we go, God!

Thank you for your abundant grace and mercy

and love for me and for all your children.

Holy, Holy, Holy

I felt His hands cradle my cheeks
and raise my face to Him. 
His glory was all around. 
Tears streamed down,
to know His attention
and love
were focused on me. 
What of all the others,
I thought,
instantly knowing,
He was meeting their needs as well. 
Holy, Holy, Holy
eccoed in the background
while light, tears
and his touch (still on my face)
filled the forground. 
Angels covering their eyes and feet
flying with the remaining wings
worship in awe with me.  
Holy, Holy, Holy...
Weeping,
tears touching His loving hands.  
Keeping my face focused on Him. 
Keeping me from lowering my gaze
Eyes open just long enough to blink away
the torent being held back by my lids.
Hands raise only to wipe tears away. 
Others may think I'm sad
but truly,
pure joy holds me still
in His presence. 
Tears fall in worship
and adoration
for emotions true love
and embrace,
the One who is love defined,
love expressed,
love poured out,
love perfected,
Jesus.
My Lover.
My Friend.
My Master.
My Savior.

God Capture me,
Carry me,
Keep me,
Cleanse me,
Cure me,
Console me,
I am yours
All be damed that reject you
I am yours.
I am yours.
I am yours,
bought at a price,
surrendered bond servant,
yours,
completely,
at rest in you,
hidden in you,
found in you,
brought to you,
grafted into you,
a part of you.
Holy, Holy, Holy
I worship and adore you.

"Don't Speak Unless Spoken To"

It was always repeated to me
before our family visited
with my parents friends. 
"Mind your P's and Q's"
usually followed,
which I knew meant:
use good manners
but still don't understand the correlation. 
It's funny,
but I often pray:
"God please don't let me speak unless spoken to"
before a meeting. 
I love to speak
to tell stories,
to share what cool stuff is floating around in my mind. 
But if I'm not careful,
I think I take attention away from God. 
This gift He's given me,
of me speaking and others listening
of telling cool stories
and experiences
and thoughts
can put the focus on me 
or God can use me
to put the focus on Him,
to lift Him up
that He might draw men
to Himself. 
So when I ask:
"Please don't let me speak..."
It's really me wanting
to store up some stuff for later use,
and cherish some stuff in my heart,
and only speak
what God has spoken to that moment
"What Rama Word
do you want to speak
into this meeting
at this time
for these people,
to give you glory
and draw all who listen
closer to you
and fall more deeply
in love with you? 
Lord may it be so,
let me speak
only when spoken to.
Amen

Isaiah 9

The passionate commitment
of the LORD of Heaven's Armies
Isaiah 9

The Lord is the leader of the armies of Heaven
and He has a passionate commitment...
It's for His bride (that's us)
and her success
and her unity
and her freedom
He is her Wonderful Counselor,
Her Mighty God,
Everlasting Father,
and Prince of Peace.
Wow...
I mean,
if the One
who commands the armies of Heaven
is passionately committed
to my success
and unity in my church
and unity for all churches,
and committed passionately to my freedom
 If He desires to Wonderfully Counsel me
to be my Mighty God,
My Father who will never leave
or fail
my Everlasting
(never rejecting or leaving)
Father
If He is my Prince of Peace,
Could I lack anything?
Could the church lack anything?
Could I fail?
Could I be defeated?
Could I be bound?
No.
The truth is
only if I allow it
will I ever suffer in this way
God, I surrender
to you alone.
Thank you
for your passionate commitment
to me.

I had a dream...

I had a dream...
It was about a play.
I was working on painting the backdrops. 
Adults were the actors
and the auditorium was filled with children.
I loved the dream.
When I awoke,
I lay awake for a while with my eyes closed
enjoying the scenes I'd just beheld. 
Painting always makes me feel happy,
like I'm doing what I was created for.
It's euphoric actually,
does something to me (physically)
I love that.
I was happy when I got up. 
I'm a morining person
so it's not unusual to be at peace,
but I was joyful. 
As I recalled the dream,
it was so simple...
Deeper meaning didn't feel possible,
but when I thought about it,
I realized,
I teach children each day
and in Sunday School
I am painting a picture
of God's love for them. 
They see what's out there,
in the world,
but here,
they see a glimpse
of His love,
gentleness,
forgiveness
and truth 
and as the other workers in the daycare
and other church members
display love and act this out... 
Wow, my purpose in life
was truley all there in this little dream,
and I was so happy. 
I always feel bad when someone doesn't love there job. 
I mean,
I have bad days,
and it's not fun to help a child through a temper tantrum
or get spit up on
but that's just the stuff that happens in life,
I truley love my job. 
I love the staff who work for me,
I'm blessed to call them friends
and we make a difference in the lives of little people. 
They will soon enough go out there
and see the world for what it appears,
but we get to display deep truth
each day
and live it out for them. 
God thank you,
for the delight I feel doing this.
It must be part of the good works
you planned in advance for me to do. 
I wonder how my friends (who hate there jobs)
would feel if they could just see your purpose for them there. 
It makes all the hard stuff OK
and somehow worth it.
I just love being your kid, God.
Thanks for the good stuff
and the hard stuff
and that I don't have to go through it alone
or even in my own wisdom or strength. 
Thanks for giving me all I need.
And thanks for the dream...