I lost this for a few years. The quote and the focus. Life happens. But grace does so much more abound.
I like to paraphrase this, just personally, for myself, {“I want to sing songs of joy and talk down fear. Let me never hesitate to let passion push me, conviction compel me, and righteous anger energize me. Help me strike fear into all that is unjust and evil in the world...}, but I also know, isolation will take you out everytime. We are not meant to conquer alone.
We are wives and mothers, daughters and lovers, caretakers, and nurturers. We are responsive and receptive. We bring a grace and beauty, a certain tenderness to the world. We protect what is within and impart life outwardly. We are godly women. And we are dangerous to the enemy.
Standing with other women, in agreement, WILL change the world. Count on it. And count me in.
Ecclesiastes 4.9-12 NLT
Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But someone who falls alone is in real trouble. Likewise, two people lying close together can keep each other warm. But how can one be warm alone? A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken.
Quizzing Tredessa, before she meanders into my garden with a can of wasp killer, I ask,
“Do you know the difference between wasps and bees?”
Her quick answer: “One has a bad attitude.”
Hahhahaha. She is correct. Wasps have terrible, mean-spirited attitudes. They attack without provocation, like to eat meat red meat (including the poor gardener trying to do good work) and also sting bees! They stink!
Don’t kill bees. Bees are good, industrious, team players, really. They truly, really will not attack you if you just let them live their lives. I can work in a pot of flowers alongside them and we chat all-neighborly-like without any fear of stinging. In fact, a good honey bee will get what he needs, bid adieu and come back later to join you, using you as a landmark to find the “good stuff.” Bees are wonderful.
Industrious!
Wasps are not. Booooooooo.
Because I grow a lot of desirable flowers and sweet stuff, the wasps like to roost here. I have driven out some major nest-attempts in at least four of their usual city-building areas in my yard. So, I don’t even think they have hives on my property anymore. But they fly over the fence from neighbors yards (those neighbors that are never in their yards and have allowed a wasp-stronghold to be built, tsk).
Evil and mean. Bully.
But I have declared this year to be the year of the war on wasps. Because they are so aggressive and dangerous, because they drive away the desired bees, because my grandbebes need a safe place to play – all these reasons are why I walk around with a garden hose in one hand and a can of wasp-killing-spray in the other.
If you are in the garden on a very warm summer morning, watering the squares and pots to prepare them for a blazing-hot day, with only the slightest of breezes, at 8 o’clock sharp, you will hear the church bells. And they play on for several minutes.
I probably live at least 3 or 4 miles from the church that shares them. And I was surprised this morning again (every year I am surprised, that churches still do that). I am pleased that neighborhood associations haven’t stopped it. And I join in on the praise they are meant to raise to heaven.
The sun was bright-so-bright this morning. A wasp I tried to spray zoomed right into me in an apparent attack mode, but I did not get stung (I am heavily involved daily in the war on wasps). But I listened.
And here are the sounds that filled me with total wonder today.
Singing birds. Different songs, all beautiful.
The slight roar in my ears when a breeze is about to move leaves.
The fluttering leaves. Yes, I heard them. You have to pay attention, but you can.
My dog’s satisfiedyeow as she wallers in the grass to scratch her own back (poor, neglected baby).
The pool water pump, steady and rhythmic, cleaning the water and re-delivering. Any sort of water movement is wondrous.
Thus I also enjoyed the sound of my neighbor’s sprinkler system. She unknowingly waters some of my borders and that is an added bonus.
Then the bells. The church bells. The grand finale to the morning’s garden song.
Thank-You, Father for the sounds, for the birds and bees and fluttering leaves. Thank-you for the sounds of life and flowing water and church bells on a summer day. Hope I can add some goodness and sweet sounds into the atmosphere today….
So hot. Like 105 and 106-degrees hot. My friend, Kaye, posted this report this morning:
YES! We did see a little bit of rain last night! It was wonderful! But we still need to pray for rain because it was [not] even close to being enough. Currently in Colorado there are 12 wildfires burning, temps are over 100º, and there is little or no humidity. In Estes Park Saturday 22 homes + 2 outbuildings burned. In the High Park fire near us, there have now been 248 homes confirmed destroyed and about 50 out buildings. the fire has grown to 83,205 acres and is down to only 45 % containment. I heard on the news that an estimated 13,000 people are displaced from their homes statewide. So let’s keep praying for rain! Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain!!!!!
Kaye was referencing, in part, our Heaven Fest Leadership Meeting last night (as well as all the prayer at churches across the state, I know), where we spent some time crying out to God for rain, for containment, for relief from the fires. Just across the hall from us at The Ranch in Loveland (in the 1st National Bank building), a press conference and report was happening for the displaced, the evacuees. There was heavy stuff happening.
One hour later, while on a flat-bed tour outside so the team could see where everything would be at Heaven Fest this year, a cloud cover came and there was some drop in the temp. Then thunder and lightening and sprinkling, then raining. And our weather patterns, usually always swooping down and away from the northeast – we actually saw heading west – toward the High Park fire. Some of our leadership rode home in torrents of rain. It was cool.
But the fire rages. Many have been added.
On Saturday our neice Lori and her daughters almost had to evacuate their Estes Park home where a cabin caught on fire less than a mile away. We were all on stand-by and it was dealt with. The next morning, a bear was in the ri neightbor’s yard, surely driven closer in by the ruckus.
Lori took this photo from her deck Saturday.
The heat is taking a toll. The grass is burning up. The dog can’t be out. Neighborhoods are losing power. There is a 100% ban on any fireworks in Colorado this year. As it should be.
Great friends, amazing prayer support, who could ask for more?
Can you guess?*
One is in her 50s, two are in the mid-40s, there is an early-30s, a mid-30s, and a later-30s. There is even one in her early sixties and it is hard to believe when you know her! All are delightfully young in spirit and my go-to life support system!
I limp into the house after a crazy-busy (truly miraculous, but wow-exhausting) week of Pastor’s and Ministry Leader’s Gatherings. I drop my computer bag and kick off my shoes.
Proof of Life:
Outside, I nearly trip over the giant Tonka Fire truck on the patio and the hose gets stuck on a tiny tikes car as I attempt to water my potted plants.
Tall glass of ice cold water. I plop onto the swing and swing in to be gently rocked….wait, what is that? Wet!
Hahaha. The grandbebes have been here. While I was gone, they came to swim. I missed the hugs and kisses. I missed the sound of their laughter. I missed a summer day with my favorite people in the universe.
But the proof of their recent presence remains, perfumes the air and makes me smile.
I am a daughter to a very important man, a holy man. He has been a pastor, boss, spiritual leader to hundreds, thousands of people. But he is my dad. Few share that honor. I first made him a dad. That is mine alone.
I don’t think anyone who knows me can doubt the power of the love between us. My dad is above all dads in my heart.
Happy day for me, because of the Father-of-Light, the Maker of Heaven and earth who adopted ME!
I am a daughter of the Most High.
Don’t you love how Jesus spoke to the persistent woman, the tired, worn out, woman who pushed through just to touch His clothing? I do.
“Daughter,” He said. I can hear it, “Daughter…” because she needed to know the Father’s love (and if you have seen Jesus, you have seen the Father). She needed to know, that even though she’d lost many resources because of her infirmities, maybe even her family and friends, that her Father, her real true Father (the One who’d fashioned her in the womb) – saw her, knew her name and would heal her disease.
His disciples thought for Jesus to try to see who had touched him was a ridiculous exercise in futility, but He continued to look around for her. He looked for her. He turned to look for her. He called her ‘daughter.’ And by His word (a word from the Word) she was whole – everything she was created to be, able and healthy to do all she was created to do.
I am contemplating the daughter thing. I am determined to be a daughter who pleases her Father. Or even just a daughter…
Happy Father’s Day to my sons:
Rocky, DP and Tristan, you guys are just amazing fathers and daddies. The proof is in the pudding. The grandbebes tell the story of children who are secure in the love of their fathers: Gavin, Guini and Gemma, Hunter, and Averi and Amelie – loved. Whole. It is beautiful.
And then – to the man who fathered my children. Happy Father’s Day, my lover and friend!
Tara wrote on FB today: As I sit here thinking about my Dad this morning it really occurred to me that he is one of my greatest heroes. He chose me not even knowing what the future might hold. He protects, he encourages, he provides wisdom, he always reminds me of… his love, he thinks I’m beautiful, he makes sure I’m safe, and he actually wants relationship with me!! Wow, sounds like a true father’s heart to me. Happy Father’s Day to you, Dad. I’m so honored that I was the one to make you a “Daddy” first!!
Today you will tend to all sorts of details of having the whole family over. You’ll make sure the grandbebes have toys and beverages and are safe in the pool with floaties. You’ll cook and fill the dishwasher and beam with joy, surrounded by your babies, the 5 we grew together, and the ones God sent to join us (and how we love them, too, don’t we??). You will have had this exhausting HF weekend and yet, you will not have wanted to trade the time and moments with the heritage God has given you. You love them. And they love you and honor you. And you are worthy of that honor. Happy day, babe!
The firstborn married so well. Tara got Dave Powers! So we got him, too.
Only I still love to remind her that I knew before she did…kind of. There was this early morning God-speaking-to-me kind of dream that involved Tara’s wedding day and all of dancing joyfully – just head-over-heels happy with the man she’d married. I can still hear God saying, “You’ll love him like you birthed him yourself.” I could not comprehend that, but it turned out to be true.
That night, after this vivid and beautiful dream from the Lord, quite serendiptiously, I actually met Dave Powers for the first time. Coincidence? No way. And just for another fun fact: he was born the day my husband proposed to me 31 years ago. Like God was getting Tara and me both set up! *Ahem!
Happy Birthday, David Michael Powers.
Thanks for hanging in there and hanging on. Thanks for bringing things to this family we didn’t even know we needed. Mostly thank you for marrying, for covenanting with my baby girl. Thank-you for fathering Hunter so extraordinarily. It is a blessed sight to behold.
This year, I have been taking a look back and re-reading the things I have written about each of you, mi familia, on your birthdays. It has been cool to see all God is doing, how He is moving in and through you each. So, for you, here is what I was reminded of today:
I crammed as many things onto a jpg as I could. Each one: true and heartfelt. I especially still love “spiritual iconoclast.” And “received.” You are. Both!
“For I am of the persuasion that the children we get are as much used by God to form us and train us as we are in their lives, And you, son-of-my-heart, are a shining example of it. You are courageous and bold and have invited to me to go places I never would have gone, didn’t even think I wanted to go and sometimes have been crazy-uncomfortable. Most of it, I wouldn’t trade. Some of it I am waiting for the day I can say, ‘Oh we can laugh about that now…’ Haha”
Happy Birthday, Dave, son-of-my-heart. Happy birthday to a man who is both steady, worthy of trust and wildly abandoned and pliable and in the hands of God. Happy day to some one who is youthful and adventurous, with ears to hear the Spirit of God and eyes to see what God is up to on the earth. Happy and blessed days to an unassuming guy who holds the keys to the very heart of God, as well as to our own hearts. I don’t think people can know just by looking, perhaps not until they have been in a room with you – the depth of character and the strength in spirit you carry…
And on your birthday, I want to tell you what a good son you are. I want you to know that we see the spirit of sonship in you toward your earthly fathers, spiritual fathers. And we see that you have submitted your heart to the Father as a son who welcomes the training and discipline that comes with that. That is why, today and all your days, you will walk in the inheritance of the Father. All He has is yours. And I wonder if your anointing might not pull some earthly fathers back from the brink, out of bondage?
You walked in and re-ignited some lost passions and time-weakened dreams and became one of us, as if we’d never known a time before you. You consecrated our new home with worship and your voice from those early days continues to echo in my memory – the many weekends you’d spend here, your time off from the ministerial internship, guitar in hand…We could see God’s hand and blessing on you so clearly, we felt honored to offer this man of God our couch and a blanket. You did drive me a little crazy with all the questions and inquisitiveness, but you drew me back out of a self-imposed exile and honored me by receiving what little I had to offer.
Happy Birthday, Dave. You have brought a lifetime of joy and love and adventure and vision to our lives – in just 10 years!! So many years to go. Soon, for a baby of {as yet}mysterious origin, you will be a daddy again. And for this child, known well by God, planned and protected by His hand, you will be the miracle so needed. And you will do it well. I know this, because you have done it for us. For me.
You make us happy. We think you are wonderful to watch, to know, to love. Happy, blessed day! Love you SO much.
Mom
Dave & Tara – tonight at Rez in Loveland (4 pm and 6 pm) and tomorrow at both services (8:30 am and 10:30 am. With Kim Walker. Dave is speaking. It will be amazing!
