The Rue

 To love you Is to  Crave what Is best  Not what Is easy

 Rise up lion Your calling Is unlike  Any other The delays Are to prepare Your heart For the  Biggest blessing

 I hate waiting. Hate it. I say this to say that what I absolutely despise is teaching me the most. Jesus is working. I’m just seeing the fruit. I have to wonder if I’ve stopped putting conditions on Him. Waiting has been painful, but so fruitful. I never thought I’d type those words. I’ve spent years angry with God, with myself. The anger left me empty. This morning some of those old feelings crept up, but I got in the shower and put on worship music. I had a date with Jesus today. Someone mentioned I had a pure heart. I appreciate the kind compliment. Sometimes my heart isn’t so pure. I just don’t let people see it. God sees it.  I’m a constant work in progress. I always will be. Perfection is not the aim. I’m just a sinner saved by a grace I can’t comprehend.  Some days it feels as if the world passes me by as I’m forced to rest. Then I remember, my life is good. I can’t rush God or myself. The time has to be just right for my dreams to become a reality. And only God H...

 Lord You don’t My accomplishment You want My obedience A trust Without condition I could try And give  You the world Then I  Remember It’s yours  The purest love Requires Not grand gestures And public audiences But quiet resolve To be The best  Ambassador  For the Kingdom

 Thank you For it all Lord In my exhaustion Make me An instrument Of your  Goodness anyway

 Be the  Blessing Others  May need And the one God desires You to be

 Guide me In your ways That not  Only I Do not Depart from Them But the Desire To even  Ponder it Isn’t there

 Lord As I greet The Face  Who always Longs to  See mine May my joy Radiate And spread To dry bones And broken pieces

 Even as The pain  Persists I cling To you In knowledge  That You Use it To the Betterment Of Your Kingdom

 Trying to hold on This pain Is next level  I cling to  Your Presence  In my discomfort

 If my faith journey keeps teaching me anything, it’s this: I’m a sinner in need of a grace stronger than the finest whiskey. I need to mow my own street before I even contemplate yours. I’m learning that social media for the right reasons is wonderful. When it gets distorted, I realize I’m full of rage. And I didn’t realize until I heard one of my favorite follows discuss this. There is so much in the world disturbs me, but social media isn’t the place to air my grievances. Jesus is the only person I want to leave my issues with now.  We are all human. Meaning we will sin. We will fall short, but  He is there. He anticipates when I will sin, or when I really don’t want to but will anyway. He wants me to be me. He doesn’t want me to feel shame for sinning, but an honest guide to lasting repentance. I’m still learning. I don’t have all the answers or many at all.  Be decent human beings. Love one another. Let Him love you. 

 Continuing from R’s Rue I don’t know if I’d mentioned that for awhile I have been listening to Pastor Rich Villodas. His sermons have been a balm to my spirit. I’m given hard hitting truth, but it a way that teaches, but doesn’t condemn. No fire and brimstone, but solid truth. I recently ordered his book, The Narrow Path. And as I’m in church today, the second song talks about the narrow way being hard, but it being the path I want to take. I should have realized my worship experience from song to preaching would turn me upside down. Turns out, I didn’t have a clue what my soul would endure. The sermon being about was it ‘worth it’ to follow God without question, without doubt, understanding waiting is not comfortable, but a part of the process. Was I willing to acknowledge its worth despite my years of waiting. I didn’t have time to contemplate this until the song that allows people to come forward, and make decisions. It was during this song that I remember what I had wanted for...

 Jesus My soul reels My heart aches And yet I remember We’re given Free will What we do With it Determines Whether We sink Or swim I’m learning Your teaching Is not  For my comfort I haven’t felt comfortable  Yet I’ve been Comforted Only by  The depth Of your love And that A promise You make Isn’t broken But not Always fulfilled Until I’m  The creation Who can handle The vastness Of its wide Magnitude

 In the shadow Of the Cross Is a humility That belies A Power That is Not misused Or abused The goodness Of the Father Son  And Holy  Ghost 

 Jesus, You remind me Again and again That as the  song says There is  Beauty  In what  I can’t understand And as a person Who desperately Needs to cling To Your hope Your promise I look to Better angels To show up Show out And be  The light I can only Pray that When you  See me You are shown The light That displays His love

 Finding joy Amidst the Uncertainty Pain And doubt Seeking the Face Of the One Who saves My soul And warms My heart May your being Be made whole At the best Of the  Omnipotent One

 Christ In me Within me The joy Of my being Is directly  Related To Your Holiness As I rise May I  Be reminded That every  Plan and purpose Must me Your approval I am nothing Without you And with you I’m wholly Wholly yours

 As I was in church this morning, it was Deacon Ordination. As I was listening today, I wondered how well it is that I serve. There are many limitations to traditional avenues of service in my daily life. I often feel like I have to be served than serve. And that battle is one I fight daily. Since, I serve in such a different way, it is the sincerest hope of my heart that I do it well.  I tell people often:  kindness costs nothing. I can’t give you much, but kindness, that I can give.  How well do you serve? Happy Sunday Regine

 God, Your goal for me is to be fully present in Your Presence. I was going to get a Powerball ticket, but decided against it. You want me where I’m at right in this moment. Writing and keeping my focus on you. The pursuit of more millions than I can count would possibly ease some problems, but it would cause others. I would end up in me serving the wrong master. I know it. I’ve served the wrong masters for years, and it has had disastrous consequences. I still serve the wrong master more days than I’d like to admit.  I tell myself if I had this, I’d be happy, but after listening to a clip of some preaching, I realize how wrong I am. I have to learn to be content in the now. The right now. I’ve been in one of the hardest seasons for a while now, and it is only bearing fruit now. Why, you ask?  It’s because I’m finally listening. I’m not trying to figure it out. Fixing me is not the goal. There is nothing to fix, but how I view God.  God is not a genie in a lamp who g...

 Paddling out of bed, doing a set of rowing stretches, cracking and craning the neck is my position. I await the big bordoodle to give me my morning smooches. She demands reciprocation, and who honestly says no to a dog. I give her love, and as I set about routine, she upends it.  God is upending my routine in every way possible. I’m trying new avenues of expression, and it scares me. I’m not sure if I’m cut out for it, but try I must.  As wading in waters with a cross on my ears, on my neck, the heart undertakes a new journey with no guarantee of success. What if failure can free you more than success ever could.  Diamonds surround Rubies refine The crashing waves  Bring sand To the toes beds As a cashmere Throw cups Shoulder blades And my soul Is finding  Solace In the  Only audible  Voice  Being His

 My three Russian words I know since you asked.  Dah for yes Net for no Spasibo for thank you.  It’s ironic this is how I treat God. A yes for when you answer like I hope you do. No, with severe inflection and intonation when you don’t. And thank you, well that’s more nuanced. I have to be reminded to utter that one phrase whether I praise or continue to pray.  Let me say I don’t have a clue what He’s doing. I’m in the trust and obey phase. More than ever. Those two words sum it all up.  Those hymns  Speak life Into dead bones More than humans Ever dared to  Believe

 As I’m sitting here, I’m thinking about something so true. My mom was watching Dr.Zhivago, and a line in the movie is sticking with me. ‘Nobody loves poetry like a Russian.’  My ancestry would determine that that is indeed a fact. I’m a Russian/Ukrainian/Romanian to my core. Poetry may not sell, but it soothes my soul. It allows me to excise the pain from my soul. It allows me to tell a story, mine.  I’ve known privilege. I’ve known pain. I’ve known joy. And you all bear witness to it all. I’m grateful you do so, and do so willingly. Thank you for humoring me. Honoring me. Loving me. I only know three Russian words, so I don’t know how soon I will be able to write in Russian.  My soul Finds Peace In the Written word