Monday, July 28, 2014

Blind Man

Blind Man

January 27, 2012 at 12:57pm
What if he had a cane and darkened glasses to signify his blindness?
Would you be angry when he ran into physical obstacles?
Would you take it as a personal offense if he didn't "see" the stones he fell over?

What kind of person becomes angry by the physical limitations of a blind man?!

In the physical, would you not lay a compassionate hand on a stumbling and broken man?!

Why then, oh wicked woman, do you not offer the same tenderness toward blind eyes that are incapable of seeing the truth.?!

A mentally impaired individual in the physical
A mind that is incapable of comprehending in the spiritual...

Would you fault a person that was born without his mind for his lack of comprehension?!?

What sort of heartless being are you that you expect more from a person other than what they are capable of??

...... wicked woman.....


The mute cannot speak.
The blind cannot see.
The lame cannot walk.
The dead cannot live.....

It is I that will give him a voice...
I will give him eyes....
I will move him...
I alone will RAISE HIM FROM THE DEAD!

You pray.
You seek Me!
Do not condemn
Do not be angry
Do not self pity.

Trust me!
Trust me.
Trust me.

I have a plan, Amber.
I have a plan.
I have a plan....

Me

January 18, 2012 at 1:12am
I'm strong. Crazy strong.
And I'm weak. Really, really weak.

I'm a fighter!!
And I'm a coward.

I'm a fiercely passionate mom;
And I'm a failure as a parent.

I am in LOVE with Jesus, my savior; my true salvation.
And I'm a stubborn human being that gravitates toward selfish ambition.

I'm SECURE in who I am despite the opposition I have with myself. I love who I STRIVE to be, and when I fail (and I often fail) I moan, and grunt, and quiver- but I pull myself together. On wobbly legs, I STILL stand up and stagger forward.

I choose NOT to give in to the way the world would have it, though I've found myself striving to find a way out of doing it the way GOD would have me live this life.

When I find myself wishing for reprieve in the HERE and in the NOW; when I find myself hoping for a different path, I DO look toward the end result. What will it benefit? What will it harm? To whom will the satisfaction go to? To whom will be affected the most?

I choose the future. Not the present. I choose what IS TO COME, not what is happening now.

I choose my daughters, and the life they are living. I choose their joy, their peace, their fullness to the potential that they are for THIS future.

I choose Jesus. I choose to trust in Him, and His magnificent plans for me. They are far greater than my own.

I choose to stand strong and bold. I choose to be confident in the woman that THE CREATOR designed me to be.

I know what I'm made of; And I LOVE IT!! I'm overjoyed to see that it is NOT my doing, not my design, not my will and certainly NOT my strength that has brought me to this part of my future. 

Thursday, January 30, 2014

I didn't give up....

It's not a matter of giving up.
I haven't given up.
I've not disappeared; I've not walked away from a purpose that has clearly been established.
It's no longer a question of what, or how, or why.....
The question I ask is "When?"
When is it time?
When will I be released to pour out the truth, and the wisdom, and the reality of what this journey has established within me?

When will I have the strength to withhold what should only belong to me, and display what's meant for sharing.

Offering insight into this unspoken journey while maintaining respective  anonymity.

Oh, the writers that have struggled with the emotional turmoil of who "we" are;  creatively analytical, imaginative, thoughtfully curious..... processors of every thought and possible thought of whomever we interactively relate to.

Art is an outlet; capable of releasing the internal pressure.
Songwriters, novelist, sketchers and painters and musicians alike pull from our emotionally overflowing bank, as we direct that overflow into creation.

We're lucky.
And so unlucky.

It has to go somewhere.

This season is akin to an artist that has had his brushes and his paint confiscated.
His freedom to express has been paused.

I've not given up.
I'm on pause.
Waiting to hear from The Lord; waiting..../
Just waiting for freedom.