Santo, Santo!

We adopted a son from Mexico. Well, that's only partially true. He was born in America to a white mom and Mexican dad and we actually haven't gone through the court system to adopt him. He was 18 when he came to live with us and currently he is still 18. I know parts of his story and parts of his story I don't want to know.
He speaks both Spanish and English fluently. I, on the other hand, do not. As I sit next to Mi Hijo, I hear him carry on a conversation with his Dad. I long to understand what they are saying to each another.

Mi Hijo, is the one word he did teach me to speak. It came after much defeat in trying to articulate his name in Spanish. He finally said, "Mom, call me 'Mi Hijo.' My Son." So I have and he calls me Mom.

I've had many discussions with God about my lack of communicating with the Spanish speaking world. It would come in handy as I work inside prison walls with juveniles. For many, their native tongue is Spanish and they tend to use this language in my presence. I would like to know what they are saying. Thus far God has not miraculously given me ear nor tongue.

Grumbling about my lack (yet again) I turned on Spanish worship music. I tried to worship without understanding. That's when the breakthrough happened. I heard the words, "Santo, santo." being sung. The tune was one I knew from church. In an instant my Anglo world collided with a foreign culture. Santo, santo. Holy, holy. Holy, holy. Santo, santo!

As God parted heaven He spoke to my heart and said, "Daughter, It's fine to long to communicate with another culture, but don't forget that what I long for most is for you to communicate with me." This revelation caused my eyes to leak and my heart to soar.

Currently, my Spanish dictionary consists of just a few words: Mi Hijo and Santo. One is horizontal communication and the other is vertical. Perhaps as I spend more time pursuing the originator of language I shall add more words to my Spanish dictionary. In the meantime, what more do I need?

Staying in the Forest

He's 18.

He's been in prison.

Several times.

He's clean now. And straight. He makes money like you and I do. Honest money. He says it feels good to make money and not have to fear if the police will find him. He gives most of his money to his mom.

I drove him home from work. We had to travel the toll roads. Somehow he avoids these the days I don't take him. He had never heard of or seen a toll tag. He didn't know how it worked. He doesn't have a license.

He works for minimum wage in a low end restaurant chain. Promotion opportunities are limited. He's an artist at heart. One of those natural artists. He has God given artistic ability but limited opportunities for expression.

He asked how to hear God.

So, I demonstrated.

I asked God for an image for him.

God answered.

I told him I saw him in a forest. Big beautiful towering trees were all around him. He was inspecting the trees. He was enjoying the texture of the bark. He was happy. At peace. He didn't mind inspecting bark.

As I shared this image that God gave, I heard him gasp with understanding. I turned to look at him.

He said, "I get it. I'm stuck in the forest and not looking for a way through the forest to get out."

He heard God in that moment.

His forest is large. There are trees called poverty, victim, ex-inmate, gang member and others that block his view.

But with God there is a way through.

One of the Scriptures we looked at was that he "Can do all things through Christ who strengthens him." Philippians 4:13. 

Wanting to hear God is an awesome beginning to find the way through.

I'm praying he has ears to hear.

That's his art above.

I Am No Longer Safe

Since I started working with juvenile inmates I find that I am no longer safe. I've passed my phone number out. I've opened my home. I've driven former inmate’s places. I am surrounded by drug addicts, thieves, convicted felons, habitual liars, cheaters, manipulators, violent offenders, victims and perpetrators.

I am no longer safe.

I am fearful for my life.

Not my physical life.

I am fearful of losing my existence.

My existence has consisted of raising children in the suburbs. Sending them to private Christian education from preschool through high school and one is in a Christian college. My husband and I have spent years creating a safe environment. We are protectors. There's nothing wrong with that.

My safe life is colliding violently with a world I have been shielded from and have shielded my family from. As they rub up against each other friction creates tension.

What's the friction?

Learning that injured people are dealt with differently depending on their address. In my white suburbs if you are jumped by a pack of people you call the police and seek immediate medical attention. Which actually happened to my husband years ago in a different state. However, down the street, a beaten man calls his cousin to pick him up and goes on with life. His medical attention consists of a few shots of alcohol to take the pain away. There's no money. There are no questions. This is the way through.

I find that drug addicts are well...addicted. They give up children for the thing that gives them temporary relief. They call people and ask for money. They steal to get what they don't have. Yet, God loves them as deeply as He loves me.

There is a whole segment of society that are victims of the society.

And perpetrators of it as well.

I used to pass by the homeless man on the street corner when I drove through the city. Now I work with young men who have no where to go upon their release.

So why am I no longer safe?

My white suburban protected existence works only in a white suburban protected existence.

My ways are not their ways.

To reach them, I must operate in a new skin. Which means I choose to lay aside my judgments of how things are done "right" and pick up what looks completely barbaric and call that "good."

As I write, I see Jesus doing the same with us. For the first time I have a sliver of understanding about how His way is not our way! I see dimly how Jesus laid aside his rights to pick up mans barbaric ways.

I find that the safe existence I deliberately created day by day is no longer protected. In fact it is getting toppled over one brick at a time. I don't know what will be left once the fortress is completely demolished.

During the demolition I feel utterly raw and exposed. But THAT'S it! THAT'S the spot for "them" as well. As my world collides with the inmate’s world they too feel raw and exposed. They wrestle with the Truth that God loves them. He forgives them. He welcomes them. And wants to help them rebuild a new life based on a new foundation.

See there's no difference between me and the inmate. We both have the opportunity to lose our life.

Will we?

Will you?

Plowing Your Field

It's time. You have a field to plow. You have seeds to plant. You have a harvest to reap. Yes, all at the same time.

First, realize you have a field. God has given you a field and not only that you get to name it. Naming your field brings ownership. It brings dominion. And yes, stewardship too. However, women typically don't struggle with the stewardship part. We struggle more with the dominion part. But, girlfriend, YOU are a land owner. Stop for a minute and take a look around. What's on your land? What do you see? The land the Lord has given you is your sphere of influence. It's your area of ministry.

Second, acknowledge the seed you get to plant on your field. What's the "seed" God has planted in you? Is it artistic expression, writing, speaking, praying? You hold a powerful seed. It was birthed from heaven the moment you were created and you were meant to scatter that seed on your land. Name the seed while you cast it forth. It's ok to plant many fields. You've been given more than one field. You've been given more than one seed. Ecclesiates 11:6 tells us, "Sow your seed in the morning, and at evening let your hands not be idle, for you do not know which will succeed, whether this or that, or whether both will do equally well."

Keep believing for the harvest. Keep watering that field with words of love and life. Regularly stop and enjoy the fruit of your labor. Inspect the plants and rejoice over what's grown. Stoop down over the soil and believe new life will burst forth soon.

Your land is good because God has called it good. Your seed is good because God has deemed it so. Your harvest is good because God is the one who made it grow.


Go plow.

Stolen Fruit

It’s time to take the fruit back from the enemy! It’s what he used to lie to Eve and it’s what he uses to lie to us.
 
Raise your hand If you can say, “I don’t have any self-control.” Or, perhaps, “I lack peace.”  How about, “If I could only be gentle”?  OR, “GIVE ME PATIENCE….NOW!!!!”
 
Any hands going up?  
 
OK…how bout now? “If I can do good this once.”  “I am not reliable (faithful).”  “I just can’t be kind.” “I don’t have any love.”  “My joy is gone.”
 
Now?
 
I thought so.  We have all said a variation of the above.  
 
I used to say, “When God passed out gentleness He bypassed me.”  Oh, and I believed it to my very core.  Funny how what we believe expresses itself in how we act. You see, I believed I didn’t have gentleness therefore every time I didn’t act gentle I reminded myself of my truth, “There I go again…no gentleness” and so I lived out a vicious cycle of a lie.
 
What compounded the cycle was that I WAS bold.  VERY BOLD!  I believed boldness was bad.  I believed boldness was the opposite of gentleness.  Boldness had a hold on me that I couldn’t shake no matter how badly I beat myself.
 
You beat yourself too.  Have you ever replayed the stupid way you handled a situation? You remind yourself of your big mouth and then can’t stand the way your foot dangles off the corner.
 
Well, I would take a sledge hammer to my spirit and throw a blow to that bold place from where my foot would rise up.  Then I’d think about it from a different angle and throw another blow.  When I was done lashing myself, I’d start all over again to make sure I didn’t do stupid bold and “gentlelessness” things again. But I always did.
 
I still do.
 
However, I no longer beat myself up.  I’ve stolen the fruit back from the enemy!
 
Things changed when I came across Proverbs 28:1, “…but the righteous are as BOLD as a lion.” (Emphasis mine). Hmmm…boldness is not bad?  Boldness isn’t a stupid impulse I can’t control? I needed to hear that Truth.  I needed to eat it, digest it and allow it to flush out a lie.  
 
I recently ate Galatians 5 which has transformed me even more.
 
I had always been taught that I needed the fruit of the Spirit.  I was warned that my flesh was at war with the Spirit.  There never seemed to be a solution to the problem.
 
That’s when a big but of the Bible jumped off the pages. Galatians 5:17-18 says, “For the sinful nature desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the sinful nature (“yeah, I got that”). They are in conflict with each other, so that you do not do what you want (“Oh well, I give up”). BUT if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under law.” (Emphasis mine again).  
 
Wait a minute! Hold everything!  Let’s back up to Galatians 5:1 for more Truth, “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.  Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” Stand firm, then? I’ve heard that line before (see Ephesians 6).  This must be war!
 
You’d better believe it is!!!! The same war that was waged in the garden is the war still being waged. What are you going to believe? Who are you going to believe?  
 
There’s a very simple Truth about the fruit of the Spirit.
 
It is this:  YOU HAVE IT ALREADY!!!!  
 
IF you have accepted Christ as your Lord and Savior, YOU HAVE IT!  
 
You HAVE love!  You HAVE joy!  You HAVE peace and patience and goodness and gentleness and kindness and faithfulness AND YES, even self-control!!!!! YOU HAVE THE FRUIT OF THE SPIRIT because JESUS IS THE FRUIT!!!!  
 
The key to living in abundant fruit is found in Galatians 5:25b, “…let us keep in step with the Spirit.”
 
Let me say it another way, If Christ has set you free, then you have a new departure point.  
 
You crossed a line when you accepted Christ.  That line moved you from “I don’t have any self control” to “I HAVE self control.”  It removed “I don’t have any peace” to “I HAVE peace that surpasses understanding.”  HE moved you to a meadow of belief that proclaims boldly, “I AM as gentle as a lamb.” It allows you to cry out, “I HAVE rivers of patience!”
 
Are you with me?  I know, believing and agreeing with Truth can be daunting when lies seem so real.  
 
Look at it this way.
 
The lie is that Jesus’ death was not enough for me to be filled with ALL of the fruit of His Spirit!  It’s good enough for everyone else to be filled, but it’s not enough for me so I will continue to stay on the other side of The Cross. The place of lack.
 
The Truth Paul declares is, “Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the sinful nature with its passions and desires.” Vs. 24.
 
That can’t possibly include you, right?
 
I’ll use Paul’s words again, “You were running a good race.  Who cut in on you and kept you from obeying the truth?” Vs 7.
 
The truth is you HAVE the fruit of the Spirit!  Who’s stealing that truth from you? “That kind of persuasion does not come from the one who calls you.” Vs 8.  
 
Are you ready to embrace the Truth, the whole Truth and nothing but the Truth yet?
 
Start with, “I have joy!”  “I believe I have joy!”  You may not be able to see it yet, but it’s there! It can grow!  It just needs a new departure point!  One based on TRUTH not on lies!  
 
Rise up!  Take back the fruit from the enemy and cross over to Truth!  
 
Proclaim every day the fruit you thought you didn’t have.
 
Determine to stay in step with the Spirit of the living God as you walk in His ways. When He says, “You don’t need that now” obey Him.  When He says, “Walk away.” Do it!  
 
30 days from now you will see a transformation in your life!  
 
You will be a garden of lush fruit whose heart overflows with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.
 
Now that’s the kind of apple I want to eat.  Anyone hungry?

The Creation of an Artist by Michelle Bentham

Michelle Bentham is my guest blogger today. Leave her a comment!

I am a 41 year old Administrative Assistant in vocational ministry at a large church in the north Texas area. In my lifetime I have worn many hats. Unwed Teenage Mom, Stay at Home Mom, Wife, Daughter, Friend, Sister, Waitress, Cashier, Apprentice, Prodigal, Divorcee, Step-Mom, Aunt, Student, Administrative Assistant, Sunday School Teacher, Bible Study Facilitator, Beth Moore Junkie, Women’s Ministry Administrator, Bereaved Parent, Grief Expert, Child of God, Blogger and more… Much More.

I graduated from high school already a few months into motherhood and did not attend college. My only education in art and writing came at the hands of my Art I teacher and the wonderful English teachers from Granbury High.

I have dabbled in arts and crafts most of my grown life. Tweaking floral arrangements and creating trinkets, but these were not masterpiece works of art, just novelties. I attained a B average in my one year of high school art and determined that my technical skill did not merit further pursuit. Still, something in me begged to create.

Five years ago my family suffered the sudden and traumatic death of my eldest child, Justin, after he suffered injuries in a car accident. A year and a half later I set out to lead a ministry group and spent a whole week painting and decorating a room at our church for a group of bereaved parents I had never met. Though uncertain and, having never painted in this medium, the experience proved rewarding as I had three pieces to display on the walls.

You may say to yourself, “I am not talented.”

You don’t have to be.

The arts in their simplest forms come wrapped in a heart full of creative expression.

Maybe you read books full of poetic prose, narratives that paint pictures, or even sonnets and songs give your heart a boost. You might find yourself walking the halls of art galleries or scanning photographs and find the Lord speaking to your heart. Perhaps you craft or scrapbook… Places where your heart turns wistful in the throes of such beauty and grace that you say, I could never do that.


However creativity finds expression in your heart, God has a plan for it.


Hearing the voice of God is really the only prerequisite for creativity. Understanding His creative nature can lead us to open doors we might never consider in our own lives. Doors to creative expression and doors to beauty and grace we might never tap into but for the prompting of His Holy Spirit.

We are created in the very image of God, and on earth we reflect His image and glory. If we are in Christ, He is in us, and if He is in us then all of the nature of God fully resides in us. God in His very nature is creative. If His nature fully resides in us, and we reflect His image on the earth then our identity in Christ, our position in Him, is the only qualifying indicator for creative expression.

I'm beginning to learn this simple truth as I develop the ability to express creatively from my identity in Christ and the things I see and hear as I relate to Him.

God created you creative, too. Your creativity has the power to express His nature and glory on this earth. Technical skills are valuable and may be developed but without the creative nature of God at work in you - art would not be possible.

In you lies a Masterpiece of God's design. How long will you wait to fully express it?

Back From Captivity

I went to prison for the first time THIS year. I tend to find myself in and out of prisons, but this was the first time of the New Year. I was ushered to the back room with my team of One Heart volunteers where we met 6 youthful offenders. We were there to spend 4 hours with our hands in paint with them. I usually begin art camps with free form drawing. They can draw anything except gang related items and it has to be appropriate. This allows me to assess where their hearts are and to see if there is any artistic talent in the room. Usually there are always one or two gifted artists. "Jose" (Not his real name) was not one of the gifted artists. He was moderate, but not gifted like the boy next to him who was a "tagger"(graffiti artist). However, it wasn't his gift that drew me to him. It was his heart.

It was a heart at war. Death vs. Life.

Picture a 16"x20" blank canvas.

“Jose” used a black leaded pencil to draw an evil looking skeleton head smack dab in the center.

Out of the heart art flows, but so do dreams.

This is the same boy who told me he wants to have a car shop when he gets old enough. He wants a place for single moms to bring their cars to get fixed at a cheap rate because they need a lot of help and they don't have much money.

Death vs. life all wrapped up in a juvenile offender.

I was able to redirect his drawing by telling him that the skeleton symbolized death and he has a choice to continually keep his thoughts on death or he can choose to think about things that bring forth life.

So he covered it up with a drawing of a cross.

Interesting choice.

We were then able to talk about how religion leads to death and relationship with Jesus leads to life.

Not sure he got it.

So we progressed to pouring paint all over his canvas and spraying it with water all the while talking about Jesus being The Living Water.

Not sure he got it.

By the end of the camp he had the messiest, wettest, jumble of paint on his canvas.

It was a beautiful mess.

Life is messy.

"There's a way that seems right to man, but in the end it leads to death." Proverbs 14:12

I'm praying for "Jose" that he chooses the way that will lead to life. Abundant life.

He left camp filled with joy. He loved his painting. He loved more the Scripture I highlighted for him in a Bible I gave him. I don't think he had ever heard that God had a plan for his life. This is what I read to him:

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord, AND WILL BRING YOU BACK FROM CAPTIVITY." Jeremiah 29:11-14

“Jose” longs to be brought back from captivity. You could see the hunger in his eyes.

I don’t know what will happen to “Jose.”

I do know that in his heart rages a turf war. Death vs. life is continually before him.

I’m praying that somehow spraying water on his canvas will lead him to accept The One who is The Way, The Truth and The life.

Highway of Freedom

Landscapes are a funny thing. They can change depending upon time of day or season. They are altered as you move upon them or what is placed upon them. Landscapes can be painted, photographed, or imprinted upon our memories forever.

Not too far away construction crews are working tirelessly to transform traffic patterns to make it easier on morning and afternoon commutes. The landscape has been transformed to where I do not recognize a thing.

I feel the same way about entering into the landscape of 2012. My landscape is changing. God is creating opportunity. He's opening doors and inviting me to walk through them to go play in the meadow of His world. However, something tries to keep my feet planted in a landscape that looks and feels comfortable.

I have found that the biggest barrier to embracing new opportunities has been fear. Not just fear of the unknown, but fear of others thoughts towards me, or fear of my own motives. The common thread is that its fear based on a highway of lies.

For example, God revealed that the passenger in my car was impure motives. I believed my motives were always bad. I drove every where with that passenger. I didn't even know he was in my car until I asked God to show me wounds that defeated me. Somewhere I had picked up this hitchhiker. I had actually changed seats with him and given him the authority to drive my life. Not only that, somewhere I began to believe that God had impure motives. That's when I stopped the car and threw that lying hitch hiker out. I confessed to God that I had believed a lie about HIM. I asked for forgiveness. HE immediately comforted me. He spoke tenderly to me and said, "Anne, your motives are not bad either." THAT was the beginning of major road repair!

As I have faced the lies and replaced it with truth miraculously my landscape has changed. I've driven far away from living as if my motives are filth. HE has cleansed them! HE has put a new spirit in me! As I've been transformed I find I am able to welcome new opportunities. It's actually exciting to enter a new highway.

How about you? Do you walk in a roundabout of defeat? Ask God to show you if you’ve picked up any hitch hikers along your way. You may be surprised what you find in your trunk. God has places He wants to take you but you may be listening to the lies in your passenger seat. Or perhaps, like me, you crawled up into the back seat to take a nap while a stranger drove you to places not on Gods road map. It’s time to wake up and kick that bad boy out to the curb. There’s a city ahead with your name on it! It’s called Freedom!