Words fail me pic

Words fail me pic

Monday, March 10, 2014

40 days of poetry - Day 6

This one has two versions and I never could decide between the two, so here are both.  Ok wait. I like the 2nd one better, but they're so different I can't count one out...




Rhythm to the Rain

There's a rhythm to Your rain
That soothes my tired soul
One that man cannot maintain
And man cannot control

I let myself get lost
The drops beat like a heart
In the water, I feel tossed
But I'll never be apart
From you

From the one who makes the rain fall down 
And the one who quenches thirst
The one who watches me run into danger unrehearsed
The one who comes to save me
When will it be enough?
For me to trust you fully and 
And you to call my bluff


------------------------

The Rhythm of the Rain

You're like the rhythm of the rain
Your love pours upon us
Whatever we need for the day
That's what you provide
Your water reaches where we hide

Not always the same
But do the flowers complain?
Sometimes soothing; sometimes violent
Either way the thirst is quenched
I'll drown everyday
I'll ride within the wave of

The rhythm of Your rain

Sunday, March 9, 2014

40 days of poetry - Day 5

One Snowflake in a Blizzard

His words hold the power of love
They create, heal and make new
As they fall on His creation
Like a soft, sweet blanket of snow
As each word, distinct from the last
One snowflake in a blizzard
Falls upon this dirty world
May they melt and seep into cracks
That the world has made
Cleansing
Let them fill in the gaps
That unchecked words from others have created
Let them melt into the spaces forged by hatred
Little words hold big power
But true power is The Word
The Word that has been since the beginning
It will cover the old with love and make new
If allowed
Old wounds are stripped away
New flesh appears
Stripped bare of the past
You emerge, fully in Him
Lacking nothing
Complete
Step into the crisp, clean air
Existing for the first time
Unfamiliar; Hesitant
Legs unaccustomed to holding your weight

But alive

Saturday, March 8, 2014

40 days of poetry - Day 4

As a child, my soul was free
Its name was imagination
Its name was creativity

So fresh from God
The world wasn’t broken
Colors were brighter, voices happier

My soul danced free within me

As I grew, the world pushed its way onto me
Into me
I built strong walls around my soul
But the dancing never ceased
It was only hindered

Life began enforcing rules and
I began to forget I ever had a Maker
A Creator; An Author

My soul remembered Him

Remembering freedom,
It (my soul)
Pounded on the walls of the cell
Danced anyway
Used its dancing feet to
Make cracks in the floor

The sound of the pounding
The sound of the groaning and straining
Sent little reminders to me from where I came

I’m thankful for the lack of comfort for my soul

Because of it, when the time came
That I heard the sweet voice of my God
All of those reminders were close
I could surrender to something familiar
And give Him permission to
Break the box wide open and let
My soul dance again within me
To the beat of His heart

Suddenly, I felt my thoughts, feelings,
Desires, yearnings, imagination
Align with my soul
All feeling the warmth of the Son

All focused in the same direction
My soul has always known the way
Has always remembered its source
And it never let me forget

Friday, March 7, 2014

40 days of poetry - Day 3


You are within the hardest day
Waiting for us to walk into it
Completely unaware of what is coming
Blissfully ignorant of evil
The luxury of ignorance
Seen in our happy step and routine

And You’ve seen us walk out
Of the hardest day
Broken, not walking as much as
Crawling
Ravaged by the knowledge of evil
Upon our people
Our tears marking the path
Where we’ve been

The ground beneath our feet
As broken by the weight upon us
As we are
Anyone would recognize the journey that
No one wants to travel

And You’re there a decade later
Tracing the scar that day left
Knowing it will never leave us
Reassuring us scars are okay
You know scars intimately
You will never leave us either

40 days of poetry - Day 2

He meets me where I am
And Where I am is broken
He leads me to stillness
All words have been spoken
He holds me tight and weeps
As tears roll down my face
He quiets with His love

And  loves with His embrace

40 days of poetry - Day 1

You begin to let Him fix one scratch
One gash
 One burn
After another
On your war-torn body
The enemy moved quickly to
Tear you up before you knew about Him
(your Father; your Creator)

He is patient
Only moving to another hurt
As you allow

It doesn’t take long before you discover
If He just removes the pieces of you
That are marred
There will be nothing left

So be it.

So you give yourself
Your whole self
To Him

You tell Him,
“Make me new”
and He replies, “it is the only way”

You allow yourself to belong to Him
To be in Him

You prepare for the pain
Prepare for your flesh to be torn from your body,
For your old wounds to be stripped away
For Him to fashion new skin upon you
The pain this will cause, you cannot
Even begin to imagine

With clenched fists and eyes closed tight, you say,
“Do it! Now, before I change my mind!”

A still, small voice, full of power replies,
“I already did.  Before your words could be spoken;
With permission from your heart.”

Opening your eyes, you see
Jesus
Beautiful, stunning, bright-shining, whole Jesus

Your instinct is to run to Him
To touch His face
Experience His reality

You laugh as you run His way
Your arms outstretched
Needing this touch
Your transformation can wait
This touch cannot

You reach Him and touch…

…glass

A mirror

You begin to examine yourself
All of your gashes and burns and cuts
Are gone
Beautiful, new, pink skin covers
Your entire body
Even the places where no pain could be seen
Covered in newness

Hesitant, not quite at home in your new skin
You look around
A dress appears
And you wear it

As you prepare to clothe the world

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Storehouse - a blog for my church family, specifically

Let me tell you a story:  Once upon a time, Isaac and I came to Celebration Church drawn by the idea of a Storehouse.  We punched our fists in the air and screamed out, "YES that's what church should look like. Shut down a whole service to BE the church." We've only been a handful of times. The end.

Let me tell you another story:  A couple of months ago, I felt the most intense feeling of...purpose SUDDENLY that I've ever felt in my life.  I texted a friend and said, "I think sometime soon I'm going to really know something about my purpose from God.  Not my big purpose (we all know that, just read the bible and do what He says to do, don't get too caught up in the details) but something specific to me." I figured that sometime in the next few months, something would happen.  I kid you not, less than an hour later, I started writing something out on my phone and when I was finished something whispered in my spirit that's it, Courtney.  It was NOT what I expected.

I wrote about Storehouse.  How I yearned for more people to be "into" it.  How I didn't understand why the majority of the church wasn't coming on Storehouse nights. WHY *I* WASN'T COMING!

I want this to be the year we all help with Storehouse. 

There, I said it. 

Listen, I'm speaking to ME!  We have kids and it's HARRRRRRD with their ages.  I use the "there's no one to watch the kids" excuse but I can do better. I can help, I can figure it out.  The number of families being ministered to and loved on is growing. GROWTH!  

Please, consider helping. Tell yourself "just this one time" if it gets you in the door. We need you.  Your love, your heart, your hugs, your muscles, your presence that says, "hey Storehouse worker, you aren't alone in this.  Let's lock arms, get dirty if need be and BE the body."  

Let's feed people 
Let's clothe people 
Let's show those warm, full people that God is FOR them and has loved them unconditionally from day one. They may have never really *heard* that.  Let's show them what it looks like to see a big group of people who all look different come together as one to LOVE THEM.   We do it every Sunday to newcomers and in kids church, right?  WE GOT THIS!  Hey Celebration Church...we're GOOD at this!  We literally just have to be obedient and show up! 

Don't leave this blog feeling guilty if you haven't helped or mad at me for asking.  If you are sick, or work on Wednesdays or something obviously you can't, but maybe you can help in other ways.  Or maybe you can offer to do childcare just one Wednesday a month, during Storehouse.  Or you can come on Tuesdays and help my mom (Kim Michael) and crew hang up clothes so that people can easily find what they need.  Or you can come to the bible study that Janet and Amber are starting on Monday mornings. And we can all pray.  All of us!  

I am metaphorically, vulnerably,  standing in front of you and saying, "I messed up.  I've been selfish.  I've been scared.  I don't want to see hard things and then be accountable.  I like the idea of things more than I like actually getting involved. I am an introverted homebody.  I am more comfortable around paper than people.  HOLD ME ACCOUNTABLE!  ENCOURAGE ME!"  As I write this, I look over at Willow who is sick and I know I can't go tonight for the SECOND time this year. This year that was supposed to be the year I go every time.  What?  So, I get it.  I get you.

Listen to this song and know it's for you!

The Church - Elevation Worship

I love you Celebration Church.  All of you helpful, loving, funny, accepting people!  I hope you see my heart in this.

-C



***
The following is an excerpt from a blog I read by Ann VosKamp a month or so ago and it's a great encouragement.  I hope you have time to read it.


He raises his one free hand only slightly when he says it to us lowly, quietly, his life never about anything loud or noticeable: “All that matters is that we were Davids — David “who had served God’s purpose in his own generation” Acts 13:36.

And I can hardly nod, God so loud in my ears.

All that matters is that we are Davids who served God’s purposes in our own generation.

That we are Mrs. Stoope over stoves and grandmothers over God’s goodnesses and people over ourselves and we just take whatever is in our hands and just thank God for it and He just uses this to change the world, multiplying our thanks into the abundant Enough to give and this is what the passionate do with their hands.

We are the Davids who served not our own agendas but God’s purposes in this generation and we are the Esther Generation right here and now and it is us who want hard and holy things because we want more than hollow lives.

We are the Davids who served not some cultural ladder but God’s purposes in this generation and we are the Esther Generation rising right here and now and it is us who want a life more than self-focus and cell phones, more than iPhones, iTunes, and iLove, who want a Life of loving the least, the lonely and the lost right. where. we. are

Who know that being like Christ and caring for the poor in our homes and down the street and across town means more than just caring about easing our consciences  – it means caring enough to live lives of real sacrifice.

We are the Davids who served not ourselves but God’s purposes in this generation and there is a whole Esther Generation rising right here and now and it is us who say now is the time:

For the faith brave 
to skydive, to take wing and fly.

I run my hand along the wall built by the radical two words — thank you —  the thank IOUs of Mrs. Stoope and the cutter and the brave mother and the worshipping men and all the band of revolutionaries who were changing the world and didn’t even know it and that is what the hand of God does. God’s making a thousand things happen when we don’t even know they are happening. 

God uses the “just” moms and “just” people to do just that: just change the world – them doing just what they’re called to with just what they have in their hands, with just enough faith to say thanks.

Radical Gratitude is the attitude of the revolutionaries. The radically grateful become the being radically generous.