Though my heart aches and I feel alone and abandoned,
Though others reject me and cut me with their words,
Though I am shunned by some who do not understand
my plight,
Though the daytime in my life has turned into night.
Yet I will rejoice in my God.
And not give up the fight.

Though my body ages and my youth fades,
Though I have no work or way to be paid,
Though my future is uncertain,
and loved ones walk away.
Though I lose all I hold dear in this life.
Yet I will rejoice in my God.
Who gives and takes away.
And I will trust His sovereignty.

Though my heart is filled with grief,
Though I see no evidence of Him answering my prayers,
Though my eyes pour forth tears.
Yet I will rejoice in my God.
Whose love is forever near.
The only Love which will last forever.

Many rocks.
Small and large.
Rough and smooth.
Sandy and hard.
Multicoloured and plain.
Are spun around for days
inside the revolving bin.
Until all impurities are
worked out of them.
The process is long
but it has a glorious outcome.
For the rocks emerge
polished and shiny.
As treasures they've become.
"The hardest rocks come out the shiniest,"
says the craftsman.
And I think of Christ the Cornerstone.
And His wise discipline.
Like the rocks,
He may turn us with force,
and the process may be long.
With trials threatening to drown.
While He refines His own.
He must use what is necessary,
to cleanse us of our heart's impurities.
Then He polishes us
and turns us into gems of beauty.
And the hardest stones among those that are His,
come out the most beautifully polished.

I fall on my knees as I consider His ways.
And I pray...
"Lord, refine me.  Cleanse me of my impurities.
Polish me. As hard a stone as I can be.  And
turn me into a gem of beauty. For Your glory."

He gently picks me up.
And places me inside the revolving bin...

With Christ as my Husband
who is jealous over me.
Who loves me so perfectly.
There is no lack.

With Christ as my Shepherd,
who tenderly watches over me
and guides me to pastures green.
To streams of water
so I never thirst again.
There is no lack.

With Christ as my Defender
who delivers me from danger,
and rescues me from my enemies
who rise up against me.
There is no lack.

With Christ as my Father,
who holds me close all through the storm.
When I am afraid of loss and harm.
There is no lack.

With Christ as my All in All.
There is no lack.
There is no lack.

Little children should not die,
while their mother cold and dead does lie.
This is not how it's supposed to be.

People should not be running in fear for their lives,
from the threat of terrorists and bloodshed.
This is not how it's supposed to be.

Families should not be broken.
Marriages should not be ending.
Children should not be starving.
This is not how it's supposed to be.

Love should not be growing cold.
Growing
cold.
But we live in a fallen world.
A world without God.
A world where evil reigns.
Until the New and Coming Reign.
When the Evil One will be forever restrained.
And the King of Kings shall take His rightful claim.
To sit upon the Throne.
And establish Love again.
In the New and Coming Reign.

Tears of grief stream down their faces,
Mirroring the falling rain.
As a mother and her little girl lie dead,
having been slain.
I cannot possibly comprehend the family's pain.
Or begin to know why such a senseless tragedy
has happened again.
But in the midst of this fallen world of tragedies and grief,
I must hold fast to my belief.
That God is still God.
That God still loves.
And He knows how to bring good
out of
unspeakable
loss.

Without You, Lord,
I am a walking disaster.
Falling into temptation and sin,
so far from Her Master.
Without my eyes constantly upon You,
I shipwreck my life.
And fill it with strife.
Without You, Jesus,
I am a weak, hopeless sinner.
So frail and vulnerable
in this garment of flesh I wear.
Without You, I am a walking disaster.
Yet...
one who is loved and forgiven...
by her Saviour and Master.

Lord Jesus,
as I come to know You more and more,
I am also coming to know this...
If I take my eyes off of You for even one moment...
I am a liar
         a cheater
         an adulterous
         a murderer
         an idolator
         a coveter
         a
         coward.
A filthy sinner who will fall...
again and again.
Into temptation.
Into sin.
Lord, if I take my eyes off of You
for even a moment.
I am a walking disaster.

Shall I cover you with gold
and bow down to worship you?
When all you are is temporal?
Shall I prostrate myself before you
and beg you not to leave me?
Although you have betrayed
and devalued me?
Shall I cover you with gold
and bow down to worship you?
No!
For you are an idol to me no longer!
I run to the One who is Faithful and True.
Who loves me far, far more than you.
At last, Lord Jesus,
You have won my heart.
And from Your arms I will never depart.
You alone are the Lover of my Soul.
And when You have tried me.
I shall come forth as gold.  (Job 23:10)

Sweat.
Like great drops of Blood.
"Not my will, but Yours be done."
He
denied.
Himself.
He denied.
His comfort.
He denied.
His fear.
He denied.
His own life.
And took up the Cross.
For me.
For you.
"Not my will, but Yours be done."

I am His.
And He calls me to the Cross.
To deny myself.
For His will.
"Not my will, but Yours be done."
Shall I follow?
Or stay comfortable?
Shall I choose the Way of the Cross?
And count all else as loss?

Not my will.
But His.
Be done.

Where do I go...
when I feel so alone.
Where do I run...
when grief's tears overcome.
Where do I turn...
when it looks like the end.
Cling to Him.
Cling to Him.
And let Him love me.
Until I am undone.

Crashing down.
The idols in my life.
Long worshipped.
Long trusted in.
Come crashing down.
They lie in shambles at my feet.
So long...
so long...
Have I worshipped one idol after another.
And forgotten my Lord and Saviour.
Rejected my Heavenly Bridegroom.
Who I am betrothed to.
And who is jealous over me.
Jealous.
Because I am His.
And He loves me.

Crashing down.
The idols in my life.
Lie in shambles at my feet.
Shambles.
Just like my life.
My life lies in ruins.
Because of my sin.
Of idolatry.
Oh Lord, I repent.
You alone must be my God.
You alone must have first place in my heart.
Have I ever truly known You?
Or have I been living a lie?
Surrounded by demons of idolatry.
Oh, let me know You more deeply now.
That I might fulfill my marriage vow.
To You.
That I might learn.
To trust You.

Crashing down.
The idols lie in shambles at my feet.
I bow in repentance before my King.
For only in Him am I complete.
And only He can repair
the ruins
of my shattered life.
Shattered by my idolatry.

Crashing down.
Shattered ruins.
I cry out for mercy.
My heart is now His.
Alone.

Lord, speak to me
when my heart
is
still.
And I have quieted
my soul.
Speak to me
Your words of Truth.
That I may fear no ill.

Speak to me
when I awaken.
Remind me
that I am not forsaken.
Speak
when I lay down to sleep.
Hold me in Your arms
while I weep.
Speak to me,
dear Lord I pray.
Speak to me.
And have Your way.
Speak.
For Your servant is listening.
Speak.
In the quiet place.
Of my heart.
Speak.

Falling away.
Falling away.
The dead leaves and stems,
dried and withered from cold and wind.
Fall to the ground.
Fall to the ground.
Making room for new growth to abound.
Green leaves.
New buds.
Spring forth.
Spring forth.
All that is dead falls away.
To make room for new life.
New life.
New green.
Where death has been.

My old self.
My fleshly ways.
Are falling away.
Falling away.
Being replaced.
By my newness in Christ.

(C) Elizabeth T., 2016

Out on the ocean,
our boat breaks down.
Thankfully, we aren't too far from land.
The rescue boat is on its way,
but now the wind comes up
and it's pouring rain.
I know God is with me,
so I am not afraid.

The broken down boat
is tossed by the wind and waves.
Crash!
It collides with the big rocks
along the shore.
While grizzlies hide within the forest.
When will our rescue boat appear?

The rain pounds down harder.
We get colder and colder.
And then off in the distance...
we spot her.
The fast boat gliding upon the water.
To rescue we the stranded.
From threatening danger.

Then...
I think of my life.
And the storm that has come to be.
Like a boat in trouble on the sea,
I need a rescue boat to come and save me.
For I can get so scared and weary.

Only God can be my Saviour.
He is my rescue boat,
when I break down in the storm.
And the waves of sorrow engulf me.
He is my rescue boat who comes to me,
when I am stranded on the sea.
In the storm and in the rain.
When I'm out on the ocean of life,
and my boat breaks down,
He will come for me.
And bring me to safety.


(C) Elizabeth T., 2016

Peace
      is
         flowing.
Like a river
         within me.

Casting
       every stone,
               every lie,
                       into the sea.

Peace
      is
          flowing.
Like a river
          within me.

And then
       the waterfall of joy
            meets the river
                      of peace
                               within.

And I realize I am complete in Him.

How I love you,
though you do not see.
Though you close the door
of your heart to me.
I have tried to win you over
with my love.
I have tried to melt your heart
with kindness.
To no avail.
Now I see it's time to
let you go.
Into the hands of God,
I surrender you.
That He may have His way
in your life.
I pray that you will come
to your senses.
To embrace all the good
He has for you.
And how dearly He loves you.
As I do.
But now...
I see I must let you go.
Out into the world
with all its pleasures.
Until one day it is no longer
enough for you.
And you feel empty.
And want to come home.
Home to your Father.
Home to my arms.
So...
I wait.
I hope.
I watch for the day when you
will come up the road.
A changed man.
A humbled man.
A repentant man.
Who will be embraced warmly,
with arms of forgiveness and love.
There is love for the prodigal,
from the Father above.
I surrender you into the hands of God.
And wait.
For you.
To come.
Back home.
But...
even if you never come back home.
I will have learned.
How to truly love you.
To show love.
For the prodigal.

Window view.
From a plane.
Flying through rain clouds.
It's bumpy
and nerve-wracking.
And I feel uncertain
and afraid.
Just like I feel in the storms of life.

But then..
I wait.
I trust.
I take God's hand.
And after awhile,
I see blue sky on the horizon.
Before too long...
I am flying
above the storm.
In blue sky.
A smoother ride.

Is there a blue sky on the horizon?
Are joy and new beginnings
soon to come in my life?

I hold God's hand.
He takes me above the storm.
Rain clouds turn into
white billowing ones.
And then...
and then...
we soar
into
blue sky.
Where joy and peace shall reign.
In place of the storm that has been.

She cries in the dark.
She cries in her heart.
Afraid of the dark.
Afraid of losing her.
Will I have a mother tomorrow?
Will she die soon?
Will I be left alone?
Why does my father work so much?
Are we going to move again?
Will I be the new kid in class?
Again.
So alone.
She feels...
So.
Alone.
Crying in the dark.
Crying in her heart.
Alone.
Afraid.
Sensitive and small.
Just a little girl.
Wandering the playground.
Alone.
Always alone.
Does anyone care?
Is there a place for her?
Wounded child.
Feeling abandoned.
Crying in the dark.
Little girl.
So afraid...
that tomorrow she will not have a mother.
Anymore.
Little girl.
Alone and crying.
In her fear.
But...
there is Someone watching over her.
Little girl.
Held and not alone.
Eyes not opened.
Yet.
To His care.
Of this
scared little girl.

I am finished trying to draw water to satisfy my soul,
from holes that cannot quench my thirst.
I try to draw water from holes of different names.
From friends and family.
From the words and approval of men.
From temporal pleasures and materialism.
But they cannot quench the longing for Love
in my thirsty soul.
I am like the Woman at the Well.
Tired of going to holes that I think are wells.
Trying to draw water.
Walking away still thirsty.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Then...
My Saviour and the Lover of my soul
comes to me.
And I drink from Him.
My thirst is finally quenched,
and I will never be thirsty again.
For He is the Living Water.
He is not an empty hole which dries up,
sending me away still thirsty.
He is the Love which my parched soul needs.
He is...
the WELL.

Wandering in a field of daisies.
Alone in her own world.
Her world of imagination.
She wanders.
She dreams.
She wanders.
And dreams.
In a field of daisies.
She lays down her child's form
in the field of daisies.
She looks up at the clouds.
She imagines.
And dreams.
She tells stories in her mind.
She talks in whispers to her
imaginary friend.
She wanders.
She dreams.
She wanders.
And dreams.
In a field of daisies.
She is
The Daydreamer.

Raise me up, Lord.
Deliver me from fainting fear.
***** out all hopelessness and despair.
Wake me up, Lord.
Make me a warrior.
Equip me for this fight.
As I take up my shield of faith,
and sword of the Spirit,
which is the Word of God.
Make me a Warrior Princess.
A Courageous Lion.
Bold and brave.
Believing that victory is to come.
Raise me up, Lord.
From the ground.
I've been here too long.
Wake me up.
Make me a Warrior.
Who will not go down.
Without a fight.

She exchanges her black dress,
for a white robe of Righteousness.
She trades in her lies, believed and spoken,
and embraces the Truth.
She decides to turn her words into actions,
no longer fearing people's reactions.
She trades in her sorrows,
for His joy.
She exchanges her selfish deeds and her
negative thoughts,
for deeds of kindness and a mind like Christ.
She trades in her old self,
for the New Creation which now she is.
She exchanges all she is,
for all HE is.
And walks FREE.

Creating beauty with beautiful flowers.
Touching soft petals.
Removing dead growth.
Combining colours, shapes, and sizes,
to create dazzling works of art.
The art of flowers.
Beautiful flowers.
Soft petals in vibrant colours.
Scents of sweetness to my nostrils.
Packaged up and sent or given.
To bid farewell to the dead.
To congratulate the newlywed.
To welcome a new baby into the world.
To cheer the sick confined to their bed.
To keep the romance alive to the married.

Creating beauty with beautiful flowers.
Watching how they bring joy to those who receive them.
This is what I did.
When I was a florist.

Thank you, Lord, for rescuing me from my own way.
Again.
Thank you for removing the stain of my sin.
And wiping my slate clean.
Jesus, I love you so much.

If my heart was a cup,
Your love would be the deep blue sea.
You fill me up like wild rivers overflowing.
With springs of Living Water flowing within me.
Flowing within me.
Flowing within me.
Until I am completely lost in Your love.
Overfilling my cup.
Your love like the deep blue sea.
Completely overtaking me.

Shards of glass lay before me.
Like the pieces of my life.
Of a broken relationship
that I cannot fix.
Myself.
Perhaps the broken vessel
must be tossed away.
And a brand new vessel
must take its place.
For new wine cannot be poured
into old wineskins.
Lest they burst.
We must begin anew.
We must start afresh.
Can we begin with forgiveness?
And trust the Master Builder
with the rest?
Can we throw away the past?
Throw away the shards of glass?
And drink love new.
Drink new wine in new wineskins.
Me and you.

---Inspired by Matthew 9:17, Holy Bible.

I am awakened by Spring's morning light.
And songbirds singing in blue sky bright.
How glorious....how radiant...
is God's perfect creation!
Beauty bright.
Beauty new.
In Spring's magnificent green hues.
My strength is renewed.
My heart is opening.
My hope is awakening.
In Spring's beauty bright.
In spectrums of green hue.
And all.
And all.
Is new.