Thy will be done

Her writing grips me still.  Makes me pause long in thought.  Lights the wicker of my soul.  The Farmer's wife. His servant girl...her life.  Her words.  Her book: all grace.  Simple grace.

I read her book and discover lessons from Him.  This book is not for skimmers.  I read these words in her book: "Eucharisteo makes the knee the vantage point of a life and I bend the body, it says it quiet: 'Thy will be done.'  This is the way a body and a mouth say thank you:  Thy will be done.  This is the way self dies, falls into the arms of Love."

I put the book down again.  I decipher words.  I am, again, stilled.  Moved stiff.  I, too, bend the knees.  Clasp the hands and bow the head.  I mutter my utterances to Him who sees the heart.

He has heard me speak these words before.  Long ago.  Somewhere...somehow...the roots of living and life chocked away the desire to give Him my will totally.  I had not realize this until I read the book.  Her book.  The light illuminates the dark.  Wakes up the slumber.  The walking dead.

I had forgotten how good it feels to be intimate with God—loving Him.  Giving myself over to Him.  He and I were intimate often throughout the day when I was young in Him.  When we had just met.  That's when hopes and dreams were bountiful and alive.

I remember the crave I had to teach orphans in Uganda and Russia.  That was back then.  Up until Ann's book I had fallen into a slumber...just moseying along.  Life became hard, and I pushed the ugly away.  Dug my heels deep in soil and grew roots.  And stayed still in heart.

I walked down the isle, said "I do," six months after meeting Jesus.  Immediately after that I suffered one miscarriage after another.  My heart began grieving.  It grieved long and it grieved hard for the six babies I lost seven if I count the ectopic pregnancy.  My heart became unforgiving ground.  Even worse was being told I would never have babies.  Joy turned into pain.  I pushed eucharisteo away, and wanted no part of living a totally surrendered life.  Pain too grave.

All of this hurt.  All of this pain came from His hand after I had serenaded Him with how much I loved Him.

It came after I spoke the words to Him, "Thy will be done."

It came after I said, "Yes.  Jesus I will follow You.  I will be your disciple."

It came after I said, "Use me."

God laid me flat.  Struck me deep to the marrow with His dagger through and through.

Seems like it came without warning, the ugly.  All of it gushing from the heavens...from His hands.  I longed to turn it—the ugly into the beauty, but I was too weak.  Too feeble.  I stuffed pain.  Careful to say and do anything Jesus instructed...But..."giving over the will"... my will ... again?  No.  No can do.  I wasn't about to be that silly girl again.  The silly girl learns quickly.  Sometimes the Father's will hurts.  It oozes pain.  Jesus souls was deeply grieved to the point of death, remember?  Remember Him asking the Father "if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me...?"

Sometimes the Father ask the children to drink from the bitter cup: the sour.

Funny how the heart changes when you let Him all the way in.  I've changed.  I'm changing.  I can feel it.  Since I've started counting the gifts...since I started reading the book.  I've changed the lenses in which I view life through.  Her book is showing me how to...  She writes about God being a good God.  I know this.  Even in slumber.  And He gives good gifts to His children on that I can be assured.  So regardless of how bad the ugly-beautiful is, I can trust that He's working it all out for good.  My good.  His beautiful, wonderful, perfect plan for me.

And because I know this I can begin my own "joy story" as I am doing by counting gifts and going through my own memories of shattered glass. 

Yeah.  I can say it now too!  I nod my head in agreement with her words.  I really can "dare to live fully right where I am.'  And I really can trust His love enough to say again with no fear, "Thy will be done."

Lay open thy hand.  Let go.

Gratitude list #'s 102-105...I'm thankful for...

` motherhood.  For the opportunity to accomplish His will for me as a mother.

` being a wife.  For the opportunity to accomplish His will for me as a wife.

` being a stay-at-home woman.  For the opportunity of cleaning and making a better home for family...and accomplishing His will in this call...this season.

` being a home school mother to my seven children.  God allowed me to get pregnant seven more times and carry these seven to full term!  He completed me.  So thankful to have them home with me and to be over their education and train them in character building.  Praying His will be done.

The book: "One thousand gifts: A dare to live fully right where you are."
I use to think that God's gifts were on shelves one above the other, and that the taller we grew in Christan character the easier we should reach them.  I find now that God's gifts are on shelves one beneath the other, and that it is not a question of growing taller but of stooping lower, and that we have to go down always down, to get His best gifts. ~ taken from "One thousand gifts: A dare to live fully right where you are."
Please pray for Japan: pictures of destruction.

More pictures of destruction

Thank you Ann for sharing the pictures!  Heart grives.


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