I have sort of abandoned my post here. I think the last few years of children and homeschool have taken a toll on my brain. I also spent my year redoing most of our house because I love my husband and his dream has been to have a family reunion here. More than that, I have been dealing with some hurts. I completely opened up my heart to several people for friendship and came face to face with deep hurt. Another pastor cut me to the core and I watched as pain spread through a group of people. Oh, Jesus, not again. We constantly throw open our doors to love people only to have a huge hunk of our ministry budget stolen. So many personal things are gone. During all of this, we notice that we have an area of termites in our dining room floor. Several pest guys later and they all say they have never seen anything like this. It's a coastal termite. It must have been brought in via infected wood or furniture. They may have to tent our house and fill it with toxic chemicals to the tune of ten grand.
Through all of this, I kept writing myself a note in my day planner. "Write the words, my dear." Even if it is just a few every day. I have been trying. It's sometimes the longest journey and the most painful to pursue what you love. These are the days you just have to be brave. So. I'm here. I'm writing the words. Sometimes with tears and others with joy. Often both.
Then God gave me a picture and pressed it on my heart.
I became a bit obsessed with the idea of beauty this year because I wanted to see it so badly amidst my hurt. I kept asking the Lord what this beauty from ashes looked like. Surely it could not be this fluffy idea that the world holds up as beauty. I think when you have been through throbbing, guttural pain and you have been scorched and charred and made to be ash, something fierce emerges. Surely this is a beauty that is mildly terrifying in power. I mean. It has been hurt so badly that it was charred to ash and then it was resurrected. That sounds pretty intense to me. Show me, Abba.
You know. Beauty is everywhere. I see it. I see these people wounded and hurting who are raising weary hands to restore justice. People without the capacity to care anymore are caring by the power of the Holy Spirit. His hope drifts in like a butterfly carried by the wind. He dwells among us.
I have a vision in my heart to declare a year of beauty among the churches rising from the ash of internal hurt. Beauty over rogue pastors and beauty over the wounded. Your shrapnel is seen, beloved. Now, we rise to declare the fierce, humble, merciful beauty of the One who made us. You belong here. You are not alone. Gather in. Desperately seek the healing.
If you think about it, pray for us. My business is doing well at thegospelmom.com...So we are about halfway to replacing some windows that are falling out. Also pray against termites. We have been spraying the house with beneficial nematodes (they eat their brains) and praying for an organic solution that doesn't involve tenting our house and filling it with toxic chemicals for 7 days. Our hearts are heavy after being hurt badly in ministry this year. If you would like to help us replenish our budget, we would greatly appreciate it. Thank you for your love and care as we have served and loved and been fortunate enough to be in cahoots with the Holy Spirit as he restores and revives his chosen people. We truly are humbled to get to be involved in serious and sacred areas of hurt in people's lives. Thank you kindly from the bottom of our hearts.
Donate one time or monthly to support Gomer's House: https://donate.unitedcharitable.org/SearchDetails.aspx?ProgID=101575
Yes. Write the words. They are far more reaching than you can imagine. Love you my friend.
Love you. I am always blessed to hear from you.
Post a Comment