Japanese Cherry Blossom, and being found.

The Job?

Not mine.

The feeling?

I don’t know, you name it - Hurt, Rejection, Hopelessness.

But God reminds me that His presence is with me.

Sometimes in ways so subtle... or, not so subtle.

I reached up and into Elizabeth’s closet, hoping to find the warm and comforting smell of Japanese Cherry Blossom awaiting me. Anything to comfort my now sorrowful heart. It isn’t there - in it’s normal spot, just to the right of the green bin that she keeps all of her girly smells.

“Maybe she put it in the bin this time ..” my heart hoped.

So I stretched further, bringing the little colorful bin close to my body, and I dig through. No! I thought to myself.

My dear roommate had just left to catch her flight out to California, and she must’ve brought it with her; and frankly, Warm Vanilla Sugar just wouldn’t do the trick. The shower after work washed away the few sprays that I was able to borrow in the morning before heading out for my day - oh well. “This fits the tone of today,” I thought.

I reach back up and put the bin back in its rightful place, and ...

BOOM! down comes tumbling Elizabeth’s foot stone. For the 3rd time today.

I lifted my eyes to avoid the falling of tears - the frustration of being frustrated - and then dropping something. I looked up, sighed deep, and slowly made my way into the closet to pick up the wandering foot stone. I reached out to grab it, wondering how it could have fallen so deep in her closet from a short distance drop. I closed my eyes and felt around.

Why is it often easier to close our eyes to see?

And yet, there it was - the little white foot stone. I grabbed onto it, and began to pick it up, but as I opened my eyes I was attracted to a little maroon bottle with the slightest faint delicate handwriting.

Ugh, I thought. I REALLY need to keep up with these new contacts.

I got a little closer ...

“Japanese Cherry Blossom.”

My heart softened, and I sat comforted.

"Thank you, little runaway," I said to the footstone.

(Yes, I talked to the inanimate lifeless piece of stone)

.. but only to be reminded of the one little sheep that the shepherd left the 99 for, or the woman who tore about her house for that one little coin.

I recollected the Lord's tender words to a short little man, so undeserving :

“I came to seek and save the lost.”

Ok God. I hear you.

"Thank you, Jesus."

I whispered, as a tear streamed down my face.

And how could I not be reminded of what happened just 1 day earlier...

My phone lit up as a late night text came buzzing through.

My brother. It was always nice to hear from him.

“I don’t know if you know her, but Brit Nicole and her band sang at our game yesterday.”

“Oh yea! For sure. She has some great tunes.” I replied.

He went on to tell me that she sounded good live, and I pondered the beauty of some of her songs. That night I listened to a couple of them, hearing the truth behind Hanging On, and my favorite- “Lost get Found.”

The next day came, and I spent most of my time working in the back, dealing less with guests, and more with the set up and break down of our breakfast and conference lunches. However, there was one guest that I helped that day.. and his name was Benjamin. Benjamin looked oddly familiar to me, so when Terry called me up to the gallery stand to assist her with Benjamin’s reservation, I was assured he had been with us before. As I greeted him, there was an awesome humbleness in his presence, and I was thankful it was this guest I would be working with. I began to work out the kinks of his reservation, making small talk as I typed and searched as to why his company hadn’t sent his credit card authorization through to us. Luckily, I was able to get in touch with a woman in charge of all travelers reservations, and she informed me she would fax an authorization over immediately. As we waited for the fax, Benjamin expressed how odd it was that this often happened during his travels; however, he certainly carried a “no worries” kind of attitude. I noticed on the gallery stand his phone that lit up with pictures similar to the site I peruse often - Yes, the infamous “Rabbit Room.” I told Mr. Glover I would be back in a moment, as I waited to see if his fax had come through.

It had.

As I picked up the little white sheet of paper I noticed the company name -

“EMI” - A Christian recording label.

Hm.

I know he said he’s never been with us, but maybe I HAD seen him before.

I walked back out to the gallery and proceeded to fix the needed changes to his reservation. As I did this, I was compelled to ask.

“I noticed your company..” I began.

“You wouldn’t happen to know what the Rabbit Room is, would you?

“The Rabbit Room..” He continued in a familiar and yet curious tone. “That sounds so familiar.”

“Well, it’s a site devoted to the place that C.S Lewis and J.R.R Tolkien would sit in London, and pour over the use of words, the existence of man, the hereafter - you know , just what they do. It is a place where mostly underground Christian musicians, poets, writers, and artists post their thoughts and work. I must say - it’s pretty sweet. A guy named Andrew Peterson founded the site, I said, one of my favorite musicians and writers.

“Andrew.” He said most factually. “I know Andrew.”

“Oh, personally?” I asked.

“Yes, I’ve spent some time with Andrew.” He answered. “I’m actually here to help write a few songs for a new artist in the area; but I will definitely be checking out the Rabbit Room. I better get to it..”

With that he was off to his room, and I was back to work.

The next morning I stood with Shelly in the back, fixing the needed items for our guests once again.

I saw someone walking towards me - and at this point my contacts hadn’t made their snug little way into my eyes yet this morning, but I noticed the figure as Mr. Glover. He walked right up and said; “I just really wanted to ask you what kind of music you listen to exactly?

Who do you like?”

“Well, I love some pretty modern Christian stuff like MercyMe, Third Day, Hillsong - but I enjoy mostly the underground songs and artists that seem to find their way to me - instead of the other way around.”

“Great.” He said. “How about a girl named Brit Nicole? Do you know any of her music?”

Hm;

How oddly familiar.

“Why, yes.” I said. “My brother asked me that question just last night - and it caused me to turn some of her tunes on, and sing along.”

He smiled.

"My wife is her assistant."

“Do you happen to know the song, Lost Get Found?”

I smiled again and said,

“Yes, what a great song.”

“Cool,” he said.

“I wrote it.”

God is with us. He comes through perfume bottle moments, or song writers; but giving the same message of truth:

“I seek and save that which was lost...

and be sure of this;

I am with you, always,

until the very end of the age." -luke19.10,matthew28.20

I plan to take him at his word.

(And needless to say, I walked away-

and smiled.)

Streams

"When is the time to trust?

Is it when all is calm,

When waves the victor's palm,

And life is one glad psalm

Of joy and praise?

Nay! but the time to trust is when the waves beat high, when storm clouds fill the sky,

And prayer is one long cry,

O Help and save!

When is the time to trust?

Is it when friends are true?

Is it when comforts woo,

And in all we say and do

We meet but praise?

Nay! but the time to trust

Is when we stand alone,

And summer birds have flown,

and every prop is gone

All else but God.

What is the time to trust?

Is it some future day,

when you have tried your way

And learned to trust and pray

By bitter woe?

Nay! but the time to trust

Is in this moment's need,

Poor, broken, bruised reed!

Poor, troubled soul, make speed

To trust thy God.

What is the time to trust?

Is it when hopes beat high,

When Sunshine guilds the sky,

and joy and ecstasy fill the heart?

Nay! but the time to trust

Is when our joy is fled.

When sorrow bows the head,

And all is cold and dead,

All else but God.

-streams

Streams in the Desert is most likely the best devotional for any heart of anguish. It was birthed by a woman named Lettie B Cowman, or most commonly known as Mrs. Charles E. Cowman. Mr. and Mrs. Cowman were both strong towers in the faith, being remembered for their missionary hearts for China and Japan. After returning to the states when Mr. Cowman's health began to subside, Lettie cared for him. After his death she went on to pen many books, one of which was Streams in the Desert.

In hearing the trials of exceptional loss and pain, I am drawn to recollect my own life. What do I consider to be the most problematic? Where is my pain? Where is my struggle?

If I were face-to-face with Lettie Cowman, I would undoubtedly be ashamed to express my struggle as anything worth sheding a tear over.

However, I recollect further, back to the days of my youth (namely, the dredging years that make up the "high school days") and I recall the pain, the tears, the anguish. I also vividly recall those with many more years than I, stating: "this too, shall pass" and "oh just wait - this won't hardly mean anything at all in years to come."

But what is that? That is nullifying the place that I felt stuck (and sinking) into. Which yes, ultimately, we need to spend more time de-magnifying our doubts and fears, and heightening the power of faith in a God that loves us unconditionally.

However, my 18 year old brain could not see past the hopelessness. I couldn't escape the feeling that this would n e v e r end. The drama would always continue, people would always say hurtful things, I'd continue to give my heart to those that never should have it, and I would forever be my own worst enemy.

The point being:

In seasons of pain, and dryness, there is no use to say these times will not matter in the future, and that they shouldn't matter right now.

Although in the face of another's tragedy, we may be able to simply relocate our pains to a shelf labeled "not AS bad" or "be thankful you aren't going through THAT" .. but the truth of the matter, is simply the truth of the matter: We all have our personal fears, pains, and hurt.

We must be true with the trials of our own hearts, in order that we can rise and press through. To use another's pains and trials as a realization of what we have to be thankful for is a good thing- but to slip past dealing with where we're at in our walk, is a foolish road to take.

The bible says that God leads us on sometimes unfamiliar paths, and that means for each of us this path may look much different!

Same problems? Yes.

Death

Pain

Hurt

Rejection

Fear

But these manifest in different places of each heart, so if we're in the process of being conformed to look more and more like Jesus, we must be true with where he has us.

I once heard someone once share a story pertaining to strength.

He shared about his youth days, and his desire to appear strong (literally).

At the gym, this young man asked his older brother if he would spot him on the bench press, as he gave him a little wink. You see, by "spot him" he actually meant: I'm going to get WAY more weight than I can push, and I want you to pull it up with me, so that I can look macho for all of the pretty ladies here.

So, the older brother did as every older brother should do - and as his younger brother pushed that bar up as high as he could, he let that bar fall as hard on his younger brothers chest as it could. Afterwards, he looked to him and simply stated: If you never admit where you're weak, you'll never learn how to be strong.

How harshly true.

Some people may look at this man with the judgement that he was just young and selfish and cared only to external things. That he was shallow. Did he have cancer eating at his bones? No. Did he suffer the great loss of a spouse? No. But the point is that his struggle was the mask he wore, to appear greater than he really was. A mask we all wear well - and a mask that, if we don't learn how to shed the disguise, will in time eat away at us.

This is truth. We must all face the deepest place of emptiness and weakness within us, no matter the magnitude. If it's a sin or struggle - it's worth getting out!

Do we then continue on in our weakness? Well, ultimately, yes: for

In our weakness God's strength is made perfect.

However, as his Spirit abides in you, there in an unknown

strength and power carrying you through the seemingly trivial, to the undeniable tragedy; oft with a Grace that can only come from above.

So, if you're suffering the loss of a loved one, stuck in a messy fight with a best friend, consumed by the thoughts that you're overweight, or wishing you didn't desire to look macho around girls; I encourage you to read once more the poem from Streams, and remember there is a stream to be found in y o u r desert.

For God has made

promise

after

promise

after

promise,

and He, my friends, is faithful.

So trust Him, with, well - whatever.

"What is the time to trust?

Is it when hopes beat high,

When Sunshine guilds the sky,

and joy and ecstasy fill the heart?

Nay! but the time to trust

Is when our joy is fled.

When sorrow bows the head,

And all is cold and dead,

All else but God."

See also: 2Corinthians12:9

Redelivery.

Among loose paper clips, old photos, and a little ornament that reads: "Jesus is my Christmas song,"

there was a note.

Stumbling upon it, I grew thankful in my decision to save most every piece of writing that I've ever penned. It's a wonderful gift to see growth, change, and life through words once written - some scribbled, some hand-crafted in calligraphied beauty.

Don't fret! Unlike many others in the past, this note was in fact delivered, but rewritten with the hand of a hopeful perfectionist (it's a hope felt loosely; for, I know that my war with perfection is a losing end. Jesus continues to stand in the gap for me on that one..)

In any case, I was placed next to Joe for just 4 simple hours of my life; a seat in the sky from Jersey to Phoenix.

Maybe in recounting the words placed on my heart for him,

it may just bless someone else needing to hear the same.

Joe,

It's been a joy conversing with you today on the plane.

I suppose the only thing placed on my heart to leave you with has to do with letting go. Not letting go of intellect - for our minds are powerful tools that God has given us to use. However, He has also given us

a heart,

a soul,

a spirit;

his Spirit,

if we so choose.

Often times, the use of our intellect overshadows the need to use these also, as a means

to reason.

Come face to face with Him, Joe, and see what He has for you. Take all the brain power you have, and put it next to His - does it pale in comparison?

Sometimes all it takes is a quick look around; Outside of this airplane window I see the vast expanse of

earth,

water,

sky,

and every piece inside of me, my mind included, is saying:

"if this is what my eyes CAN see.. imagine what they can't."

...Because then for just a simple moment I close them, and know; there must be a grandeur purpose in this grand design.

My heart screams, "In the end, what I can't see, is all that will remain!"

Not the images we see,

or better yet the images we cling to maintain.

The only thing left standing, and worth standing upon, is the Word.

Time is always of the essence my friend, and the most essential time is always now.

I know you've heard some of this before, but the reminder is here for the taking.

The bible rings out:

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men,"

Joe, He set eternity in your heart.

And so I come back again to letting go.

Jesus said, in order to find your life,

you must lose it.

Just let it go.

It was great meeting you, my friend.

I hope we meet again, maybe in another place.

:)

Mia.

Trusting through Midnight

Lord,

Help me to seek you

in the hour of midnight,

when the fear arises

that my stagecoach

will quickly turn into a p u m p k i n,

and my beauty

to rags.

Help me to see

that your love perfected

casts light upon every shadow of doubt.

That the same love that drew me,

will keep me.

That if you are near,

the beauty will never fade;

it will only grow to become

more beautiful.

For in the moments that lead closer

to the ticking of midnight

my hands begin to s h a k e

as the hands of time press forward...

If only my soul would be at rest.

Who can quiet the anxious heart,

but you?

I am reminded.

Your hand, it holds the minute hand.

For it is not the clock that houses my fate -

It is you.

Stepping into that glass slipper,

takes faith.

But the truth is:

it fits,

and always did.

You were only just waiting for me

to try it on.

Hannah means "Grace", and Grace believes.

Barren.

"So it was, year by year, when she (Hannah) went up to the house of the LORD, that she (Peninnah) provoked her; therefore she w e p t and did not eat.."

As the other wife of her husband provoked her, Hannah wept.

She loved her husband, Elkanah, and the scriptures say that he too loved her- even in her barren state.

But Hannah just couldn't take it anymore; her husband says "Hannah, why do you weep? Why do you not eat? And why is your heart grieved? Am I not better to you than ten sons?"

So what did Hannah do? Did she look at her husband and say, "Honey, you're right. I do love you more than ten sons, so I will give up this burden that weighs on my heart and understand that it would be impossible for me to have what my heart so longs for."

No, she didn't.

She finished eating with her husband, and she arose. I believe not only did that mean she stood from where she sat, but internally she arose- she knew what she must do;

she took her heart of grief and poured it out to the Lord as an offering, and in her anguish the truth was revealed.

To Eli, the high priest she went..

".. and she was in bitterness of soul, and prayed to the LORD and wept in anguish. ¹¹ Then she made a vow and said, “O LORD of hosts, if You will indeed look on the affliction of Your maidservant and remember me, and not forget Your maidservant, but will give Your maidservant a male child, then I will give him to the LORD all the days of his life.."

Broken.

Inside, and out.

And it's here in this place where the inner cry can be heard, and f e l t.

"Here it is God." I can hear her saying.

"I've got nothing left to give, but the brokenness of my soul.

I can't let go of this burden,

so here God, here it is."

And she makes a vow;

"God,

if you would only give me a son,

I will give him to you all the days of my life." As she weeps, and weeps, and weeps.

All of a sudden in the midst of her prayer her lips continue moving, but her voice is not heard.

Like a silent screaming of the heart.

"..And it happened, as she continued praying before the LORD, that Eli watched her mouth...

¹³ ... Hannah spoke in her heart; her lips moved, but her voice was not heard. Therefore Eli thought she was drunk. ¹⁴ So Eli said to her, “How long will you be drunk? Put your wine away from you!”

“No my Lord, I am a woman of sorrowful spirit.

I have drunk neither wine nor intoxicating drink, but have poured out my soul before the Lord.

So the woman went her way,

and ate,

and her face was no longer sad...”

Heard of God.

It wasn't until Hannah fully released her desires to the Lord that the distress of her heart relinquished.

She could feel again.

Eat again.

Smile again.

“ For out of the abundance of my complaint and grief I have spoken until now..”

Did she know that God would give her a son? No, no she didn't.

But did she ask God? Yes, yes she did.

She arose in a willingness to come to God with what burdened her most; and in that she was free.

They named this child Samuel... "heard of God."

Jesus said:

"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you."

This has to come from a willingness inside of us all to give it up to God,

to fully surrender.

And when you do?

Tell someone.

Rejoice.

Hannah goes back to Eli, full of praise and exaltation:

"..And she said, “O my lord! As your soul lives, my lord, I am the woman who stood by you here, praying to the LORD. ²⁷ For this child I prayed, and the LORD has granted me my petition which I asked of Him. ²⁸ Therefore I also have lent him to the LORD; as long as he lives he shall be lent to the LORD.”

So they worshiped the LORD there.

Go to God with your anxious heart,

and lay the burden down.

As your weight is lifted

it just may bring the hope for someone else's to be lifted, too.

I can rest in that.

And my hope is that you can,

too.

Scriptures: Read 1Samuel: 1,2:)