Shimmer at His feet

I like the Christ in you

2011-02-17T12:20:00.000-08:00

cooperation

Last night I went to a bible study for the ladies and enjoyed much needed fellowship. After about a month of, at some points, almost desperation to get some peace and some presence; I finally got a break in the low chilly winter clouds over my head and heart. So often the weather gets blamed for a depression that comes on during the winter. I think that is probably true in part. But what I have been noticing is that isolation is terribly difficult for members of Christs body. Being alone is hard. But for a believer it is uniquely hard in that we get such a skimpy portion of the Spirit the longer we remain isolated. Our triune God is the example set before us. I need the Christ in you.

Garment of Praise

2011-01-18T09:39:00.001-08:00

2000

I will not pick up the garment of the whore.

I am beauty, in your eyes pure and piercing.

My gown is garlanded with the stars.

I will not pick up the garment of the whore.

I am strength and delight, fluid and breath.

I move to the sound of your Holy presence, resting like mist on my skin, warm oil on my head.

I will not pick up the garment of the whore.

I am priceless, a jewel, worth a man’s life; the life of a King.

I am whole, entwined with the intention and hope that is the creation of all things.

I will not listen to the voices calling me, appealing to my flesh with old tunes, wants, and self-justification.

I will not pick up the garment of the whore.

I am un-owned, liberated, chosen. My feet walk on water, mountain tops, they ascend.

I will not return to the bed of addiction, of despair, self pity, filth…

I will not pick up the garment of the whore.

I am spring, birth, life.

In my heart lies the womb of the Kingdom, I dream and blessings are made manifest, I hope and dreams are revealed, I ask and I receive.

I will not reach for the familiar, the smell of lusty ambitions and slavery, that haughty death … I will not pick up the garment of the whore.

I am the dew, sweet kisses on the cheek of the eternal.

My beloved is mine and I am his. He is the desire of the nations.

But His eyes are on me, I am wanted, chosen, the desire of His heart.

I will not empty out the cup of offense, tempting soul and mind…

I will not pick up the garment of the whore.

I am covered with The Light, comforted by The Lion, overjoyed with The Lamb.

I am embraced and content with this love.

I will pick up the garment of praise and gladness. I will enter His gates with Thanksgiving in my heart.

-lrr 2010

Break through?

2010-07-31T17:37:00.000-07:00

Breakthrough is a word I have heard a lot. It is a hopeful word that carries a weighty promise. I have been waiting and hoping for some sort of breakthrough. Evidenced by my ability to heal the sick or bring sight to the blind, prophesy, do miracles. The silly thing is and what brings me to my thought; I am not praying with blind people or sick people (really sick people).

My heart is so heavy. Today a man was waiting at the gas station we pulled into. Clearly he was waiting for a ride. I watched as a light came on behind his eyes when he saw my enormous truck pull into the station. I knew he was going to ask us for a ride. He walked over to our truck and as one, two, and three little heads bobbed out from behind the front seats he walked off. There wasn't room. He wasn't getting a ride, we were NOT what he had been waiting for. But, there probably was room, my truck is big enough for one more child or strange man waiting for something he won't find likely.

I am! "I am" is always what we are looking for. He is everything we need; He Is. With all that presence living in me I must be what people are waiting for. This is the point where I realize why I am, still waiting for breakthrough. I fondled the five dollars in my pocket and thought about asking him if I could help him with something. Then I watched as a man walked right by him ignoring his muddled request for a ride.

What is it about our culture. I know it sounds like I am blame shifting here. I'm not, I totally blew an opportunity to be Jesus to some one. No, to 3 little children, myself, my husband, and to the old man standing, probably sore and tiered; waiting. Anyway, why are we so isolated, safe, and clean? I am starting to look grotesquely like this culture I am surrounded by. I could sterilize myself and my children to death. That is a good point. We are becoming a sterile society. I am becoming sterile. Life ought to beget life. I ought to perpetuate what is in me. I am increasingly disgusted by greasy hair smudges on walls and couches in public places, apparently I am also repulsed by the filthy furniture I saw at a second hand store, sweat and snot, yuck...

I really need break through. I need a heart of flesh in place of a heart of stone. I need love and with love the courage to be more than just inspired.

2007

2010-03-13T20:08:00.000-08:00

Work and Hope

2010-02-06T11:32:00.000-08:00

Work. Creation. Craft.

I love organizations who feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and shelter the homeless. This is what Christ said was true religion; taking care of those who have need. I receive updates from groups like Samaritans Purse, Drs without Borders, and World Vision. I look through them, prayerfully considering the faces I see. I contribute as I am compelled. My heart is gripped tight with something more painful than sadness; a cry for justice. I am not sure why i think it is more painful, maybe because it is less passive; it is aggravated and sharp. Sadness suffers, but in the cry for justice there is the hope of liberation mingled with suffering and for me a bewildering urgency for strategy. So this cry of compassion goes up to the One who holds the scales, and to the One who pours out His liquid sanctification into the high bowl. I know that my Heavenly Father loves honest scales.

Over the last two years it has come to my attention that hunger is not the only necessity stolen from men. Many of these hungry or homeless, sit. I realize there is a desperate scheme at work here. It really is very difficult to do much when you are starving. But work focuses us, gives us something to hope toward. Some one told me that we actually cheat people out of work with our generosity. That seemed silly initially; I'm no strategist. But I think it is true. As difficult as it is to hear that women walk miles every day to get fresh water perhaps we should praise God that they have the hope of work every morning. I remember when I was a new mother I overheard two Christian women talking about there mansions in Heaven. These women were thrilled at the prospect of nothing to do... for eternity. Oh, Lord! That sounded like hell to me. Not to judge. We certainly have the ability, for better or worse, to work as hard as we can stand, here in the US. Some having to work a lot harder than others. But, the image got me thinking. I really sat and envisioned eternity without work, without intentional effort toward something. Then I imagined even a year with out the hope of work, and I am talking about achievement in even the smallest sense of the word; with no consideration to income. What would I do if I had no dreams, if I had nothing to plan for. At this juncture it occurs to me that sitting in the presence of my King would take up a thrilling portion of eternity, however, even He is not stagnant, but creative (originally the verb WORD). The faces and eyes seem to say "I want to live in the fullness of life". Destiny, strategy, work. It is in Gods image. It is good! I hope I can effect change. Change that creates a culture of stewardship and fruitfulness.

12-2009

2009-12-28T12:18:00.000-08:00

My children helped me with these paintings. These will be times I will not get back. Co-laboring with them to create something uniquely ours. But maybe it will just be the beginning. Maybe we will be co-laborers for the duration. In the family of the King we all have this hope don't we; that we will work together to steward the Creators imagination in us, in the world, in the hearts of men.

I think right now my family is becoming acutely aware of the injustice toward men/women, the earth that groans, even our thoughts that are arrested by ever present suggestions and distractions . Every where; not just internationally. And this injustice is not obvious in many cases. It trickles down from the top with blatant effects but the roots are often subtle and myriad.

These paintings are a combination of these ideas.

Prophetic art

2008-10-23T18:43:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of a flower blooming in a hostile environment. I pulled it from a scribbled line drawing I did with my eyes closed. Obviously I did not paint it with my eyes closed. I should post the original. Anyway, it reminded my of a conversation I had recently, were I, silly as it may be, quoted the line from "Mulan" about the flower blooming in adversity. This is my first attempt at prophetic art. I am excited with the possibilities. More on that later.

Song

2008-07-23T19:07:00.000-07:00

Song Eternal

Let me live in the ghettos of Heaven, where the rhythm of praise pulses with Holy heat;

where joy is tossed with loud cries and songs in the direction of the throne.

Pounding earthquake beat of thankfulness shakes the streets.

The trees wave their limbs, bursting in a wild green chorus.

The sound of the Saints is loosed on the kingdom.

“We give you glory Lord!”

A sacred display of underpants and affection, poured out, leaping from the throats of the satisfied.

“Victory in Jesus!”

And the hands wave and the skirts fly;

bare feet, beautiful, with the marching, dancing story of creation salvation; kiss the ground in childish pleasure.

“Hallelujah”

Swirling color fireworks; bursts of love and adoration in the eyes of our King

as each child ignites before him in jubilation; the smell of praise fills the city.

Oh! And it sets to blaze a fire eternal.

Soon the city of God groans, expanding to make room for the praise of the people.

“I will dwell in your house forever”

Bliss erupts from the ground and the walls, in response to the outpouring of love and laughter.

Saints past collide in an everlasting embrace to the Saints present.

“I will dwell in your house forever”

The Bride rises, her time has come.

Trembling with precious excitement, she makes her way to her King.

2008

.....

2008-07-14T13:39:00.000-07:00

It is hard to appreciate the great texture in this painting form a photo. I enjoy seeing it on the wall. I finished it a few weeks ago. I hope to get more like this done. Some thing about color and texture satisfies my eye.

48 degrees: musing on a better climate

2008-06-06T10:40:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite places on earth was, because it no longer exists, my Grandmothers greenhouse. It was warm and dense with life. It smelled like creation, it made my head buzz, and the atmosphere was heavy on my skin. I would go into that greenhouse and breath as deeply as my lungs had capacity to expand in my little chest. Today I found some notes from a prayer journal, which reminded me to think of the atmosphere of my home. We have such a gift in the Holy Spirit. God with us. Here, because of his presence we have the hope of Heavens atmosphere. We carry Heaven with us. I hope the creative oxygen of Heaven fills your home, and rests thick on your skin and on your children. I hope that you are inspired, that your head swirls with life, and you find encouragement in the promise of protection in the blood and resurrection of Christ; he has provided a beautiful structure for our growth in difficult environments.

I read Exodus 23:20 and on, today. I was amazed. I imagined the whole thing as my life and in spiritual terms what that could look like. It is fun, you should read it. What fullness of life might he have for us, what ground will he take in our time, what will he birth in our lives? What will he do for us in our stillness (Exodus 14:14)? Thank you Jesus!

Beyond understanding

2008-04-26T17:16:00.000-07:00

Beyond understanding.

Lately I have been thinking about "The Word", that created all things and holds all things together. About "The Christ" that is the word of God. About destiny and The Bride and marital bliss. I suspect there is something so fluid and integral about our life being woven with The Word, with our Jesus, that we miss when our perspective rests singularly on his Man/God persona. My words have no form, only intent and purpose; imagination. They can rest in the hearts of my loved ones, they can encourage a stranger...there is so much power in my words; but the words of God! We are one creation with these words of God, that took on flesh and walked among us. Our blood cries out to him, we are made like him, we are united, conjoined to the heart of God; WOW, he is in us...more clearly, he is part of our very matter.

February 08-Acrylic

2008-02-29T08:08:00.000-08:00

My Lily 3yr

2008-02-09T16:36:00.001-08:00

Riding a horse with Daddy.

We all need affirmation. We all need to know we have worth. We all need to know that we have something good, or even great to offer to life. My children are curious and enthusiastic to share their ideas. They work hard to please me with their likeness of me. Both of my children would spend the day covered in paint if they could because that is what Mommy does, and it looks like fun.

Bird feeding babies.

I think that is what Christ ment when he talked about entering the Kingdome of Heaven like a child. Father God wants us to enter the kingdom coverd in paint becuase that is what he does. Maybe not paint, maybe smeared with his love for the poor, or hope for the frustrated. What does our Daddy do? We are made in his image, created to rule and subdue the earth. We should love imitating him.

Playing in the snow.

Acrylic 00

2008-02-06T17:01:00.000-08:00