The honesty, the authenticity--you are real and raw right here. I remember a time when I was painting the names of God on my living room wall. I'd come across names in scripture that I hadn't painted up there, and on some mornings I would pick up paint and brush, and write those names up there, some in LARGE ALL CAP letters, like "JESUS," which was six feet across, and some in calligraphy--different fonts and sizes, interlocking with others, until my wall was a texture of faith in room that fills and empties with people I love, and people I struggle with. One early morning, I had a heart arrhythmia for the first time, and I didn't know what to do. I started painting "The God Who Sees Me," and when I was done, I realized with a start that God had restored the sinus rhythm to my heart. What rejoicing I had that week, because God saw me and responded to my prayers!
That arrhythmia came back eventually--and for a season our health may not be what we hope...and we are all getting older. But some fine day we will be completely healed, and live in bodies undiminished by weakness or disease, and glory in the One who resurrected us).
Until then, we sit in pews, bathed in a light we only partway understand, and we feel the weight of the things we wish were different.
At those times, remember grace--what God has done for us through Christ, and feel the easiness of His yoke and the lightness of His burden. It is for freedom He has set us free. And if the Son has set you free, you will be free indeed!
This was a heavy post, but you have placed us precisely where we need to be, Ms. Maine. At the foot of the cross, we can be lit to burn with Holy purpose--a bush in a dry desert that will glow with the fiery presence of God.
Wow, what an amazing testimony... a powerful reply to a deeply touching post. I envisioned the wall and what it meant to those who encountered it in person along with the spirit that created it (You!). God bless. 🙌
Thanks, Kimberly~I ended up doing something similar on a missions trip to Jamaica. I painted a wall of God's names. To the point in the article, when we feel distant from God, we can call on Him through His names. Each one reminds us of some aspect or character of His being. He knows our names, and even has a secret one for us that He alone knows! I wonder if He made a wall with our names on it, and our characteristics... would we be surprised in a good way? I think we would. And there would be many shared names for all believers--like "Beloved," "Cherished," "Beautiful," "Forgiven," "Approved," "Poema," "You, who cause me to sing," "Worthy," "Remembered," "Purchased," "Wanted," "Purposed," "Blessed," "Helped One," "Heard," "Noticed," "Attractive," "Yearned For," "Groaned Over," "Followed," "Watched Over," "Protected," "Mine," etc. If we knew that God thinks of us constantly, and that He is not stewing over--nor despising--us... how this knowledge would help and encouarage us!
I’m over hollering at the “El Roi”… just in case you may not know why - “Meet George Jetson. His Boy Elroy…😲😊 - This article resonates with me … In my season of loss ( I lost my youngest baby girl to complications of breast cancer nearly a year ago) I stopped calling “his” name period. It felt faulty, performative and someone else’s rule - that had nothing to do with my relationship with THE ALL. This wasn’t the first time it happened either. you’d think I’d learn from that lesson but I didn’t. So I’m thankful (not for losing my daughter) but for realizing the African proverb is true. “It is not what you call me, it is what I answer to.”. Now here I am reading this message for the third time in a year. My oldest daughter just had to struggle with what she called a “d-man” in her dream and she called out a name too. The name she called was different than the name I call on. So what is in a name, Shakespeare wrote. Everything I say, and it is personal and so very Sweet! I’m rooting for you! 🙌🏽 I hear you. And I know you are going to be better than you ever been. Claim it when you feel it! ❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
This post was for all of us! For you, me, the other commentors and the silent readers who felt something deep and longing in them when they read this post. Exposed! Seen! No longer hiding in plain sight. It's for those who can't speak for they have no words. For those who cry long, hard, and so far in the depths of their soul they feel swallowed up whole. To the ones who whisper and it carries on to the One who hears all and to the ones who's posture is face down because it seems impossible to kneel or gaze up at the cross that holds so much promise because we've fallen short yet again. And I haven't even covered all the bases and that's OK because when they read this they know who they are. I say this because I am them - all of them. I've been knocked down a time or two or three and feel like I ought to know better and so I pretend when inside I am hollow and empty because the enemy has whispered that I am a fraud and I ought to know better, but look where I am... who do I call on? Depend on? Reach out to? No one. I remain silent, broken, and a stone's throw away from giving up BUT then this... these words so eloquently displayed for all to see with such insight, inspiration, and revealing like a hand of grace extended through one who is, has been, and probably will be there again, beckoning me to call out my truth, my name, my hope... YAHWEH! And so I do and I begin again. Thank you. 🙏 💕
The honesty, the authenticity--you are real and raw right here. I remember a time when I was painting the names of God on my living room wall. I'd come across names in scripture that I hadn't painted up there, and on some mornings I would pick up paint and brush, and write those names up there, some in LARGE ALL CAP letters, like "JESUS," which was six feet across, and some in calligraphy--different fonts and sizes, interlocking with others, until my wall was a texture of faith in room that fills and empties with people I love, and people I struggle with. One early morning, I had a heart arrhythmia for the first time, and I didn't know what to do. I started painting "The God Who Sees Me," and when I was done, I realized with a start that God had restored the sinus rhythm to my heart. What rejoicing I had that week, because God saw me and responded to my prayers!
That arrhythmia came back eventually--and for a season our health may not be what we hope...and we are all getting older. But some fine day we will be completely healed, and live in bodies undiminished by weakness or disease, and glory in the One who resurrected us).
Until then, we sit in pews, bathed in a light we only partway understand, and we feel the weight of the things we wish were different.
At those times, remember grace--what God has done for us through Christ, and feel the easiness of His yoke and the lightness of His burden. It is for freedom He has set us free. And if the Son has set you free, you will be free indeed!
This was a heavy post, but you have placed us precisely where we need to be, Ms. Maine. At the foot of the cross, we can be lit to burn with Holy purpose--a bush in a dry desert that will glow with the fiery presence of God.
Wow, what an amazing testimony... a powerful reply to a deeply touching post. I envisioned the wall and what it meant to those who encountered it in person along with the spirit that created it (You!). God bless. 🙌
Thanks, Kimberly~I ended up doing something similar on a missions trip to Jamaica. I painted a wall of God's names. To the point in the article, when we feel distant from God, we can call on Him through His names. Each one reminds us of some aspect or character of His being. He knows our names, and even has a secret one for us that He alone knows! I wonder if He made a wall with our names on it, and our characteristics... would we be surprised in a good way? I think we would. And there would be many shared names for all believers--like "Beloved," "Cherished," "Beautiful," "Forgiven," "Approved," "Poema," "You, who cause me to sing," "Worthy," "Remembered," "Purchased," "Wanted," "Purposed," "Blessed," "Helped One," "Heard," "Noticed," "Attractive," "Yearned For," "Groaned Over," "Followed," "Watched Over," "Protected," "Mine," etc. If we knew that God thinks of us constantly, and that He is not stewing over--nor despising--us... how this knowledge would help and encouarage us!
I’m over hollering at the “El Roi”… just in case you may not know why - “Meet George Jetson. His Boy Elroy…😲😊 - This article resonates with me … In my season of loss ( I lost my youngest baby girl to complications of breast cancer nearly a year ago) I stopped calling “his” name period. It felt faulty, performative and someone else’s rule - that had nothing to do with my relationship with THE ALL. This wasn’t the first time it happened either. you’d think I’d learn from that lesson but I didn’t. So I’m thankful (not for losing my daughter) but for realizing the African proverb is true. “It is not what you call me, it is what I answer to.”. Now here I am reading this message for the third time in a year. My oldest daughter just had to struggle with what she called a “d-man” in her dream and she called out a name too. The name she called was different than the name I call on. So what is in a name, Shakespeare wrote. Everything I say, and it is personal and so very Sweet! I’m rooting for you! 🙌🏽 I hear you. And I know you are going to be better than you ever been. Claim it when you feel it! ❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
Amen. Love the honesty.
Anointed! Every single word. Always draws me right in.
This post was for all of us! For you, me, the other commentors and the silent readers who felt something deep and longing in them when they read this post. Exposed! Seen! No longer hiding in plain sight. It's for those who can't speak for they have no words. For those who cry long, hard, and so far in the depths of their soul they feel swallowed up whole. To the ones who whisper and it carries on to the One who hears all and to the ones who's posture is face down because it seems impossible to kneel or gaze up at the cross that holds so much promise because we've fallen short yet again. And I haven't even covered all the bases and that's OK because when they read this they know who they are. I say this because I am them - all of them. I've been knocked down a time or two or three and feel like I ought to know better and so I pretend when inside I am hollow and empty because the enemy has whispered that I am a fraud and I ought to know better, but look where I am... who do I call on? Depend on? Reach out to? No one. I remain silent, broken, and a stone's throw away from giving up BUT then this... these words so eloquently displayed for all to see with such insight, inspiration, and revealing like a hand of grace extended through one who is, has been, and probably will be there again, beckoning me to call out my truth, my name, my hope... YAHWEH! And so I do and I begin again. Thank you. 🙏 💕