Day 129 - Memories

 

Quietly while eating my breakfast, thinking over the past few days spent here in Sipapu resting and communing with nature and more importantly the God of nature, I clicked on my favorite music, A New Hallelujah by Michael W Smith, together with the Ugandan children’s choir. I love tribal beats of praise!  My heart has always yearned for Africa, and one day I will be there spending my last days. For now I have the ministry of music, movies to remind me of the immense color, extreme need, dire situations, and the great love. I have my two children, Winny from Kenya and Leticia from Ghana, to hold close in my heart. I have memories of men and women of God who likewise loved their country. I so miss Nelson Mandela, and I know his country misses him fondly.

From our nation’s great heritage of fine men and women comes Harriet Tubman, Martin Luther King, Jr and Robert Kennedy. I know some would attempt to discourage my love of these two advocates for change, but regardless of their shortcomings, they were right in their stand against injustice, cruelty, and suffering. I am of an age where I witnessed a great many things in my lifetime, like most who live to be of an older age. The stories of the elderly who lived during these times and those before teach us much if we listen, hear, and understand.

While reading the word I continued to listen to the softly playing music, but it is very hard to read the impassioned words of Nehemiah while listening to words such as,

“Sitting at Your feet is where I want to be. I’m home when I am here with You. Ruined by Your grace, enamored by Your gaze, I can’t resist the tenderness in You. I’m deep in love with You, Abba Father. I’m deep in love with You, Lord. My heart it beats for You, precious Jesus. I’m deep in love with You, Lord. Humbled and amazed that You would call my name, I never have to search again. There’s a deep desire that’s burning like a fire, to know You as my closest Friend. Lord, my Redeemer, Your blood runs through my veins. My love for You is deeper than it was yesterday. I enter through the curtain, parted by Your grace. Oh, You’re the Lover of my soul!”

This is the song of my heart, so hearing the words during this time of deep gratitude and humility, bring tears to my eyes as I again surrender my heart and soul to Him. He’s always waiting, and I never like to be late, especially for Him.

The first thing I read this morning was “God will never, never, never let us down if we have faith and put our trust in Him. He will always look after us.” Mother Teresa

Isn’t that why I’m here? Isn’t this the confirmation I have longed to have repeated to me. His words never change for me. The lesson I am meant to understand is always the same.

I received an answer from the Lord about an issue that greatly distressed me prior to my coming here, but last I checked there had been no resolution, no response, and this troubles me. In freeing myself I offered a great gift, but it has not been accepted as such. I do not understand when freedom from fear is the result of this acceptance. Quite possibly it could be the turning point in the lives of others in more ways than one. And yet, I did my part, but I am not yet free to walk away. I have a part to play still, but it will be response to the process the other begins, if it is to begin. So my feeling is one of disappointment, wondering if I heard incorrectly. Only time will tell.

Last night I listened to a teaching tape about critical spirits, those who judge others while seeing themselves not in need of any change. There was one thing said near the end of the teaching that struck a chord in my heart, “To the wrong person you’ll never have any worth, but to the right person you’ll be everything.” Wow! I cannot remember or even see the context of these words in the discussion of critical spirits, because all I can do is remember my words to Jesus, “I want to be worth something to someone.”

My thoughts have been so fixed on one thing, service to God, that I ignored the needs of my own heart.  I keep coming back to the cabin in the woods, the old farmhouse, being free to do the things He has asked me to do in helping others. Yet alone I cannot find the strength to try. Alone what impact can I make, what good can I do? Memories flood my musings, and I recall times when I have been hurt, too many times in fact. I have a huge heart of compassion, always ready to forgive, ready to start over, always giving all of my love, only to be trampled upon again, and yet here I am again entertaining ideas  of sharing my life with someone?!

Sometimes I think He brought me back here to break my heart all over again. All I know is that, for now,  it is time to stop writing, clear my head, leave the isolation of my refuge, and venture outside and feed the ducks. Maybe a nip on the heels will awaken my senses!