God is Abel

 Recently, I volunteered at my church with a few other people at our annual “Christmas Operation,” table. It’s always fun, often a great time to share God’s movement in our lives and the holidays – any and every thing.  I happened to be speaking to a lady and found that she worked in the public school system, as I once had.

            As we talked, she told me of all the many ministries she was involved in and all she did as a member of the church. I thought it was awesome, to be such a devoted servant and so willing to give of her time. As we continued speaking, I revealed to her that I had also worked in the public school system, with special needs students.  She hastily responded, “I could NEVER work with those children,” and, “it’s just a waste of time, it’s just daycare - they’ll never do anything on their own.”   I have to be honest and say her remarks stung my heart. When I worked with special needs students, I had loved them as my own.  I was a little taken aback that I was speaking to my Christian sister who nearly lived in church – the building – and yet lacked compassion for those I considered Christ had spoken of  [in part] when he said, “the least of these.”  Matthew 25:40 And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.  (Matthew 25:31-46)

            Later that day, I thought more and more about one special needs student I had worked with for a few days last year.  He was of small stature, maybe 4 or 5; frail-bodied, with straight, jet black hair that framed his sweet, sweet face. A face I will never forget. His name was Abel.

            Abel couldn’t speak, but smiled often. He made slight inarticulate sounds every now and then, and held a very gentle and meek disposition.  I stayed near to him. He was so peaceful, so precious – they all were – but Abel just gripped my heart, and it became my goal to delight his.

            I worked by his side. Helping him to eat, using the educational toys to play with him, talking to him – basking really, in his presence.  I remember him so clearly: body wilted, like a Raggedy Ann doll, his eyes smiling into mine; peace and innocence draped over him. He stole my heart that day.  Our class went outside for recess and I lifted him out of his little wheelchair to hold him. He was as light as a feather.  I spun him around as the sun shined down on his face.  He smiled first, and as we continued in our spinning embrace, he laughed and it was as if time stopped, and an endless wave of love and joy and peace surrounded us.

Upon returning to the classroom,  the other assistant filled out paperwork with Abel’s name.  I was standing right near while she did, and when she wrote his name, she spelled it, A –B –L-E.  In the physical realm it seemed incorrect; but it struck a chord in my spirit, immediately. I felt that God was speaking to me. God is able – through this little disfigured boy – God is Abel. The words pressed upon my spirit and I knew, that being with Abel, I had sat in the very presence of God that day.  Little Abel, even in his state, was a vessel of God’s perfection.

            I know that Abel may never do anything significant in the eyes of men – lawyer, doctor, etc. but when I am placed in the presence of these special ones, I can talk to them, I can pray over them, I can offer them the sweet gift of love. If they come each day for only that, it is worth it every time. Biblically, in the Kingdom, Abel who is the least, will be great. Luke 9:48 And [Christ] said unto them, Whosoever shall receive this child in my name receiveth me: and whosoever shall receive me receiveth him that sent me: for he that is least among you all, the same shall be great..

            As for my sweet sister-in-Christ, I will be praying for her – for us. I will pray for us to be humble servants in this Kingdom that God so lovingly invites us into. I’ll pray that we will be readily available, with willing hearts, seeing eyes, discerning spirits realizing that in the least of these, we will find God’s presence hovering protectively. God is able. God is Abel...

Let's go before the throne of grace.

 Heavenly Father, fill our hearts with your humility. Let us see like your eyes see in the lowliest of faces, and in the lowliest of places; let our hearts reach like your heart reaches for your children and the lost, and empower our spirits to love unaffectedly, like yours.  Father, we know the miraculous, incomparable work you do through willing, unassuming hearts.  Lead us there Lord, to that place in You, that we may be usable for your Kingdom.  We love you, and we thank you for heavenly encounters where you reveal your divine presence to us. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Cry of the Broken  - “to every outcast, a friend and comforter…”

Kneading My Heart

            The Encarta dictionary defines knead as such:  to fold, press, and stretch a soft substance such as dough or clay, working it into a smooth, uniform mass. I often think about how God has changed my heart just so - bending it, pressing it, and stretching it further than I ever thought it might go; kneading it and continuing faithfully to work out all the unmistakable kinks – the harshness, the rough edges and renewing my mind and spirit in the process - redesigning me into a usable workmanship for His purpose.

 I realize now more than ever, my relationship with the Lord is so much about the heart - and dealing with my heart, He's had His work cut out for Him. : ) Jesus speaks about the heart in Matthew 6:21 saying, "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."  My treasure was once riches, fame, stardom. My treasure was some of Christ and a whole lot of other things.  But as He continues to walk with me,  to stand by my side, to love me unconditionally, never leaving me or forsaking me, pouring out His love and mercy - my treasure has easily become, my Lord and savior, Jesus Christ.  As I take notice of God’s faithfulness over and over again, I find myself renewed in my heart - kind of like the Grinch at Christmas - it's grown at least 3 sizes! I find myself renewed in my mind and I feel as though He’s been at work all of my life,  handling my heart with so much care. He's been molding and kneading it ever so gently, with such patience - more and more, as I respond to the voice of  His loving call. As I go forth in spite of this life’s trials, and in gratitude of this life’s victories,  I’m learning to consistently pray and talk to the Lord, every single step, and I’m suddenly aware that my prayer life is changing; growing – which means my heart is too.

            I’ve always prayed, praying in faith for all my personal wants and needs. But I feel a shift lately in life.  Though I still pray for my needs and heartfelt desires, my desires have become more about wanting more of  Jesus, and the Kingdom of God and less of me. I pray for others more fervently, those who are hurting so deeply.  I pray to be a vessel for His love, for him to use me and move me. I pray about desiring His glorious purpose for my life, about spending time with Him, talking to Him, walking with Him, communing with Him.  My desire is changing from my own self-filled will, to His awesome one, and for His grace, and to do things His way. He has been kneading my heart – changing my innermost thoughts and desires. I see things differently, not as quick to become disheartened, frustrated, or fearful – but ever hungering for His Word and His loving presence. It’s as if God has taken my heart captive, and I pray that He never lets it go. 

            I can only give God glory and praise for all the exciting things he’s doing and His faithfulness in my life. He loves us all so much and it is often in that sweet, tender place of surrender where we will find Him reworking our wants, our needs, our desires – kneading our very own hearts to be shaped and molded for our good and for His eternal glory.

          I pray God's purposes will become your heart's desire as you continue in submission to Him and lose yourself in the very depths of His abundant and eternal love. 

God bless,

Chana 

Psalm 105:3Glory ye in his holy name: let the heart of them rejoice that seek the LORD.  

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus, Hillsong United

Turn your eyes upon Jesus
look full in His wonderful face
and the things of earth will grow strangely dim
in the light of His glory and grace

Turn your eyes upon Jesus
look full in His wonderful face
and the things of earth will grow strangely dim
in the light of His glory and grace

http://youtu.be/Jo7-C3NQSp4 

God's Faithfulness in Loss

Mama  and my son

I have been absent from here for awhile, I know. In early March, my sweet mom went to be with our Lord and savior, Jesus Christ.  How I miss the very essence that was her sweetness, her unconditional love, her voice booming with the sounds of constant praise and worship to our Lord.  She was such a beautiful, vivacious spirit and how often, I long for her presence. She left us with an arsenal full of hilarious memories (she was the funniest woman alive), and all the love any person could ever imagine another human being could ever give.

Mom had been sick for a while, and while I knew her physical body was struggling, greatly, I still wasn’t prepared for her early, earthly death.  It’s a difficult thing to spend your life loving someone, and then suddenly being without them.

In the midst of that, I struggled for a good while. I couldn’t quite come to terms of my existence without her.  I felt cold inside, I felt alone, I felt as if I couldn’t feel the heart of myself… numb. Externally, I coped, distracting myself with anything and everything, but internally I felt so disconnected from everything - even from God.

I remember wanting to pray. Needing to pray, but being unable to. And though I’m often full of words – no words could quite describe what I was feeling. No articulation could form from my mouth, about how desperately I ached in losing her, about how empty losing her had left me.

For weeks that turned into months, I couldn’t pray.  I thought outwardly to the Lord and about the Lord, but I was so disconnected. I didn’t blame Him, I just couldn’t speak anything. There were no words that could express the depths of all that was bound up in my heart.  Often in my feeble attempt, I would get on my knees and just lay in the dark crying, babbling words that couldn't translate, words that fell short of what I needed to say, and it left me feeling helpless and inert, and disabled in a way. Looking back, I know the Holy Spirit, interceded on my behalf – because outside of that being part of what He does, God was still carrying me, when I was unable to carry myself.

Finally, sometime in June, I came to the Lord. On my knees words began flowing out. I spoke my heart, and like a waterfall, everything came pouring out that had been bundled up for months.  He gave me, “beauty for my ashes.”  Isaiah 61:3 says, To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.  

He replenished and renewed my heart with new desires, new hope, new songs to praise Him. In the depths of my brokenness God watered my soul, renewing my faith, and restoring my devastated heart.  How great is thy faithfulness, oh God. I still hurt thinking of my sweet mom, but the Comforter reassures me often, that God loves me, He will never leave or forsake me, and that Mama is whole and healed partaking in the heavens with our Lord Jesus Christ!

Sometimes, we don't know how or why things happen the way they do. There's no rhyme or reason from our earthly perspective of the sequence and unfolding of things. What we can be certain of though, what we can rely on and depend on every time, is the great faithfulness of our God! In times of trouble, and in times of loss, He is faithful and will ALWAYS come to our rescue.

God Bless you!

Chana