PROVERBS FOR JOSH

His words on paper.  I hug the letter...it's all I can do, this first born, borne away from us and into the Army.  This soldier son.  Beloved son.

He says, "I've been praying constantly, and I know God is helping me with all of this.  Whenever I am at attention or parade rest, I'm praying-and that is a lot of time....God has called me to where I am now, and I'm trusting Him to take care of me, but please pray for me."

Can we try a Proverbs exercise?  Since there are 31 Proverbs, may I humbly ask you to consider reading one each day and praying it for Joshua?  That  God would give him wisdom and strength?  Also, his boots are still posing a problem.  A big problem.  Please keep his feet in mind as you walk around on yours.  Many thanks to all of you for your prayers!

Joshua's mama,
Bernadette

Grace

Be still.  Know that I am God.  Walk with Me in the cool of this day, and trust that I've got it.  Got the world.  The Culture.  This country.  The church.  Your friends.  Your family.  Your marriage, your daughters, your sons.  The whole world in My hands, remember?

Nothing more powerful than My love.  Nothing more real than My sustaining grace and mercy.  Be still.  And know that I AM.  I AM God.

I hold your lamentations.  Your tears.  Your questions.  Your frustration.  Even...your anger.  All right there in my palm.  All with your name right on it.  Scars bearing witness.  To all the fallen, yes, but also, My Life laid down and raised up again for my glory!  So let everything that has breath praise the Lord!

The hope of this life.  Yours.  The blessed hope that I AM coming again soon.  And that soon all these mysteries will be revealed.  I will see you face to face.

Grace,

Bernadette

A Lamentation

It's a Lamentations Day.  Do you ever have those?  I wonder.  What my life means.  To me. To anyone.  To Jesus.  He died for it so it must count a great deal, but we are here such a short time, and this quest for holiness-in all the fallen and broken- seems so pointless.  On days like these, when the empty inside is full.  When the great American way weighs on my back:  A burden to be carried.

While the world goes suffering great drops of blood, we sing fast and loud.  We clap till' our hands are raw.  Applauding ourselves?  Is there but ONE out there who feels the same?  That we are spinning our wheels to create something beautiful?  When the culture tells us that we are ugly.  Never enough.
And that we are defined by what is on t.v.  The thin and thinner.  The rich and richer.  And all this sex going on outside the sacred, taking great bites of flesh out of hearts trying to grow up?  Fit in?  The deadly fake spins its sticky web of lies, catching the feet of generations.  Poison Porn taking purity captive.  Enslaved.  Eating disorders eating the souls of our girls, and sharp blades that cut less than the world somehow.

What can we do?  What power do we have?   To protect and defend?  Am I spitting in the wind?  My voice and heart raised to fevered pitch.  Not judging.  No.  Who am I?
Shouting warning.

Don't do.
What I have done.

Children, listen to your parents.
Be wise.  Be safe.
Be free.
That you would never lament these days.
That your life would be raised.

Friends, let us link hands to pierce that smothering cloud.   Let's lift up the lives of our children to God, that the enemy of their souls would not have a foot hold.  Nor would he have an inch.  Let us fervently do what we can.  Humbly.  From our knees.  That not one more child would be bruised and bloodied behind enemy lies.

Young people, I am praying for you right now,

Bernadette

Breathe

Breathe.
Breathe You in.
Still.
Still trusting You.
Believing.
You give your children good gifts.
Not snakes.
Thankful.
For today.  For moments with You.
Moments that you purchased.
To give me what You want for me.
Your best.
Instead of what I deserve.
Hell.
And I love You, Lord.
Spill it out.
For You.  For all.
Because I can't hold it back.
The dam is breached.
This damned life.
Rescued.
Washed.
Loved and held dear.
And You are, oh so precious to me, Father.
My Big Papa.
Just to know that I am loved.
That we are.
Oh, Lord.  You are beautiful.

Bernadette

Oh, brother

Brother calls today.
Hear the hurt in his voice.
But he's the big brother, right?
So we don't speak of it.
Just dance around the pain.  Piled.
Doing our best to hold each other.
At arm's length.
Doing what we can to say,
"I love you."
"You are important."
"Your life matters."
And it does.
Because who would I be with out him?
He painted the picture for me.
This loving Jesus.
This real Jesus.
Pursuing real relationship with all His messed up kids.
I want to trace his face with my fingers.
Remember him.
The way he never told me to go away.
How important he made me feel.  Still makes me feel somehow.
How he never lost his cool
When I got in his business, read his love letters, talked too much.
The way he never called me fat.
Never called me a cry baby.
Never made me cry.
Cradled all the tender heart of me.
With his.
No hook.  No barb.
SAFE.
Loved.
My brother.

Bernadette

Running

 "Do you see what this means--- all these pioneers who blazed the way---all these veterans cheering us on?  It means we'd better get on with it.  Strip down, start running--- and never quit!"  Hebrews 12:1  MSG

Sometimes that great cloud seems kind of thin, doesn't it?  When our ankles are twisted in sin.  Swollen with pride.  Defeated.  Humiliated.  When we feel as if we have disqualified ourselves in all this living.  Choosing.  Scrambling.  Falling.  When we stop wearing the shoes of peace.  Ears so full of the devil that we can't hear.  God.  We want to sit down.  And.  Quit.

He stoops down to lace the shoes that hold our feet.  To the gospel.  To the cross.

And can't you hear the faint roar of the crowd in the stadium?  Aren't you so close to home now?  Can't you lift your feet a little bit longer...just your very own feet, and run?  Leaving nothing on the track?  Can't you just stretch your heart and your mind and your soul right down into your legs and fly over field and twig?  To home?  To Jesus?  Keeping your eyes on Him?  The ultimate prize?

Heart pounding out of your chest.  Breath coming hard and fast.  Sweat dripping into eyes, ears, shoes.  Come on now!  You can do this!  Let your feet pound ground of lies.  HE has qualified You, that means you can never be disqualified.  Run on that promise.  Uniform covered in His life blood.  The enemy of your soul can't take your place.  This is your race!  Run to Win!  Run to HIM!

Right along side,

Bernadette   

BRAVE

She rolled in at midnight, and I was mad that she was late.  I had lain in bed for hours waiting to see her lovely face.  Mine contorted in worry.   I knew she had gone to the south side of town, and I was a bit frantic.  Called and texted her.  Called and texted her friends.  No answers.  Panic rising.

She sat, apologizing, at the edge of my bed while I held gentle reign on her long ponytail.  Her words began to spill out...precious gems tumbling out of heart all grown up.  I tried to catch their beauty in my hands.  Hold them tight.

The Spirit of God in her lit the darkened room as she shared her experience of praying for a homeless man.  Bloody faced man.  Running from the cops man.  How the Lord gave her the power to reach out.  Touch him.  Reeking of alcohol and drunk out of sense.  Common.  The Strong Soft stretched out the Life in her, the Light of all men, and lay it down just so on his burden.  His shoulder.  Soft caress in all that hard and hurt.  Her heart going all the way out to this one soul.

Lost.

She grieves at all the lost-ness.  I rejoice in the awakening.   The world beyond these safe walls touches her heart and makes her different.  Never the same.  Her voice trembles with gratitude, and she resolves to live differently.  I want to hug her as this deep craving is carved into her heart.  She becomes like Jesus in wanting the world to know of His love, and her heart burns for us to love each other.

"If I had just one thing to tell people, it would be to love each other.  JUST LOVE EACH OTHER!"  She fairly shouts into the darkness.  Making me shiver.  Making me smile.  I am completely overwhelmed at who she is becoming.  Humbled.

Can you teach me to be brave, Sarah-girl?  Can you teach this Mama, always fighting fear, to walk in the power of Who He is and all that He can do?  I feel foolish.  Writing here for all to see is the length and breadth of my courage.  How Jesus had to work me over to get me here!  And how, in the early hours of morning, my sixteen year old daughter becomes my hero.  I resolve to live differently.  The way she does.  Laying my life all out there to reach.  Even.  One.  Soul.

Lost.

"Here's another way to put it:  You're here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world.  God is not a secret to be kept.  We're going public with this, as public as a city on a hill.  If I make you light- bearers, you don't think I'm going to hide you under a bucket, do you?  I'm putting you on a light stand.  Now that I've put you there on a hill top, on a light stand--- shine!  Keep open house; be generous with your lives.  By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.".

Matthew 5:14-16 The Message

To be brave,

Bernadette