Don’t You Give Up On A Miracle

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Little Green Journal Entry

“I dreamed last night that I was apprehended by a tall teenage thug, built and styled like a wrestler. I was walking down a stairwell in New York City, and he opened the street door, about to climb up. We stood face to face. My heart was pounding. I don’t remember exactly what kind of struggle we had in my dream, but I remember feeling a clear urgency that my life was in danger. In our struggle, my body stood tense and alert, but my spirit was never scared.

After a long struggle, he gave up fighting and sadly drew off his shirt to show me inch-wide, two-foot whip scars across his back. “Satan did this to me.” he said, eyes downcast. Before he could say more, three of his thug friends came, and all four pushed past me, ran up the stairs and slammed the door. I heard music pound and I knew something dark was going on up there that I could not go against alone. 

I stood at the bottom of the stairs, deeply sad, thinking about those awful scars. Why would he run up the stairs towards an enchanter who whipped him?

The next scene of my dream showed my parents, Ben, Arthur and me in the prayer room of our church, interceding together. 

My eyes shot open after this scene. My breath puffed white in the moonlight, but inside my sleeping bag, my skin was damp and clammy. I fumbled for my watch and pushed the button. 2:55 a.m.

My heart was still racing–every nerve on full alert. I switched my headlamp on red and reached for my tiny Bible, asking God to give me clarity about what my dream meant through his Word.

The first words I set eyes on were these, from Mark:

‘And he went into all the 10 towns, telling everyone he met what God had done for him.’ 

I backtracked. This was the deliverance story of Legion, a man possessed by demons, who everyone else had given up on. Who Jesus set 100% free!

I prayed for a long time in my tent, and drifted back into a calm sleep. 


 

It is incredibly uncommon for me to dream, much less remember it vividly.

This was not a dream.

This was a prophetic vision about Precious One, a real person who my heart had been crying for. I needed to hold on to this prophecy in the days to come, when Precious One verbally agreed with Satan’s lies, when I replayed the sad, sad scene of Precious One trying to destroy their own life.

“And he went into all the 10 towns, telling everyone he met what God had done for him.”

COMPLETE RESTORATION.

Yes! This will be true for Precious One, and soon!


From Luke 4, TPT

When Jesus came to Nazareth, where he had been raised, he went into the synagogue, as he always did on the Sabbath day. When he came to the front to read the Scriptures, they handed him the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. Jesus unrolled the scroll and read where it is written, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, and he has anointed me to be hope for the poor, freedom for the brokenhearted, and new eyes for the blind, and to preach to prisoners, ‘You are set free!’ I have come to share the message of Jubilee, for the time of God’s great acceptance has begun.”

After he read this he rolled up the scroll, handed it back to the minister, and sat down. Everyone stared at Jesus, wondering what he was about to say.  Then he added, “These Scriptures came true today in front of you.”


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BELIEVE what your eyes have seen, child. Believe what your eyes will one day see. Our God is a god of miracles.

Greater things are still to come. 

 

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Victors

Tonight, the headlines irrevocably declare: “120 Dead in Paris Attacks, Worst Since WWII”.

Terror is spreading across our planet, and the people of this planet, like ancient wooden ships adrift in a storm, scatter. Some cry, some shout “Revenge!”, some huddle in the paralysis of fear. Some hold up signs that say ‘NOT AFRAID’–a distinctive message to their enemies, but the sign-holders are powerless to make the message true within their hearts.

We the people– the meant-for-another country people. We the foreign exchange students, so to speak. What are we doing?

If we’ve been trained to fight, why are we afraid?

If we are truly selfless, why not choose to feel pain with the hurting instead of jumping into our closets of self-protection?

If we really believe God’s power makes us unstoppable, why not walk towards the danger instead of running away from it?

We are never victims.

We are always promised joy.

We are always promised rest.

We are always promised protection–the definition of which only Jesus knows.

We are never victims.

We are victors.

We the people pray for Paris tonight.

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We also pray for peace within ourselves.

 

Never, never, let us accept the title of “victim”, Jesus. Never let us stop receiving peace from you, and fearlessly giving that peace away.

Courage

Isn’t it crazy that even when everything I know and see is on the downstream side of insanity, just hanging on to hope by a thread, Jesus’ name is STILL ‘Deliverer’?

Even when I feel like a skittering mouse, MY name, because of my divine heritage, is STILL ‘Courageous Victor’?

I’ve thought to myself, “Maybe I’ll find a syringe of courage on the other side of a challenge, kind of like the proverbial gold at the end of a rainbow!”

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Guess what? I haven’t found a crumb.

I guess courage comes from an unseen source, like the very air we breathe.

Always surrounding me.

Always enough.

Always ready to make me STRONGER THAN BEFORE I ASKED FOR HIM TO HELP.

Victory on earth is so different then Jesus’ definition for His victories (which are happening all around you, unseen.)

Close your eyes, and look with His, and you will be encouraged.

Turn your eyes away from darkness, and live out your name!

COURAGEOUS VICTOR!!!

Independence Day, All Day, Errry Day

Do you know what it’s like to be free?

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Does it feel like a triumphant march, bold, brazen and unstoppable?

Does it feel like an entirely new government, a government that actually has your best interest in mind?

Does it feel like a fireworks show, loud, colorful and unpredictable? Maybe just a tad dangerous?

Does it feel like a crackling fire, the comforting presence of friends, and more food than you could ever eat?

Every time July 4th rolls around, it’s  impossible for me to join in the festivities without thinking, “THIS! It’s my inheritance every. Single. Day!”

The brazen “Oh yes I will stick a feather in my cap, and call it macaroni…. no matter what you think” heritage of our American forefathers (look up what those lyrics mean sometime, by the way) reminds me of the freedom I have in Jesus to be outrageous! He allows me to be 100% awkward, awesome  and unique, and calls it “Perfect!” Because He made my spirit perfect, and that’s what He values the most.

A new governing entity reminds me of the freedom I have as a member of a heavenly kingdom. The rules are unchangeable as the tick of time itself. Always in my best interest. Always reliable. Always present, no matter where I am. What could be easier, or more refreshing?

Fireworks remind me of the explosive majesty of my King’s power. First a tiny spark, then a sudden blast into the air, then a full-on display of beauty for all the world to see. Dangerous? Oh yes! No king would earn his title without being dangerous. Unpredictable? Yes again, because He can. And because He is the Creator of all that is. Unforgettable? How could He be anything but? Beautiful? As the Maker of all beauty seen and unseen, experienced and imagined, time past, present, and future… how could He not be? And I am free to bask in that unforgettable, unpredictable, dangerous beauty every single day!

A crackling fire makes me think of the Lord’s spirit inside me. Warm, lively, comforting… yet ready to burst outwards and upwards in a whoosh of unstoppable power the minute it gets the fuel it needs.

Friends snuggled up by my side make me think of the comforting presence of my Jesus. Always there. Always secure. Always the same. Always trustworthy.

Abundance of the best of foods reminds me of the benefits of being a part of the most wealthy family known to the history of all that is! Unstoppable promotion is mine! Unstoppable resources from the unlikeliest of places! Unstoppable flavor and zest!

The dog is in the basement, howling. She doesn’t realize the powerful imagery of the fireworks exploding around us. But I do!

It is all of God’s people, as they should be, united in celebration of one victory… and the power of their unity is lighting up the night sky for all the world to see.

Tell me, what does freedom look like to you?

That Bum On My Couch

I was in the second-to-front pew at church the other week, and I was feeling the morning blues.

Do you know what I mean? That sandy-eyed, groggy-voiced, brain-not-quite-awake feeling of sluggishness that isn’t really ready for 120 decibels of worship music being emanated directly in front of oneself.

Don’t get me wrong, the band was great. I liked them, really. I’m usually the type to get into the celebration spirit right away…. but that day, I just…. wasn’t.

I tried desperately to focus on the positive side of life, like the two adorable little girls dancing in front of me, carefree as could be. It helped a little.

Then the pastor took the stage, and he told a story.

“Imagine going home from church today,” he said, “And finding a bum fast asleep on your couch. He is stoned, snoring, and you have no idea who he is. What would you do?

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Hmm. Let me guess. You’d try to make him leave. Maybe pat him on the shoulder, say “Excuse me, sir. You’re in the wrong house.” But what if that didn’t work?

You’d get a little more violent, maybe go so far as to poke him, maybe even raise your voice. “HEY, SIR. THIS IS NOT YOUR HOME! YOU NEED TO LEAVE!”

But what if he just went right on snoring? What if he rolled over, looked you in the eyes, said, “Excuse YOU, but this IS my house!” and went back to sleep?

Would you shrug, assume he was right, and just live your life around him? What if he invited his friends over, and they all claimed that this house belonged to them as well? Would you accept that?

You see, friends… your level of persistence shows what you truly believe.

If you truly believe the bum does not belong in your house, you will fight back harder, call your buddies to help you drag him out of your house, maybe get the police involved. You would take as much time as necessary to evict him.

What about your spiritual life?

When temptation, fear, sickness, depression, shame, and the 1,000 other tools of the enemy sneak their way into your ‘house’…. do you accept them?

Do you politely try to evict them, and if they do not obey the first time… or the 12th time…. just assume they are meant to stay? Or do you hold FAST to your knowledge of what is yours, and fight for it until everything is set right?

Do you BELIEVE that God can if He wants to?

Do you believe that He might not be able?

Your level of persistence shows what you truly believe in. “

And that is what I learned on a half-awake Sunday morning, from the second-to-front pew.

Love Ambush

I’ve been a crab for twenty-four hours.

It all started when someone asked me a question, and I responded defensively and then the father of lies jumped in with all of his hogwash and made a mess of everything.

“You’re not worth fighting for.” he said, “You are selfish at the core, and think of no one but yourself. Your dreams are not reality. You have tricked yourself into following them as an easy escape from life’s problems.”

Because I was tired, weak in heart and still feeling defensive, I believed all of it.

My joy was robbed.

It’s messy enough trying to make big decisions for your future, but when you start believing lies… things get ugly pretty fast. Each lie is joined by it’s own disease until your heart is trampled.

Shame.

Defeat.

Anger.

People (and most animals) caught on pretty soon, and gave me a wide berth.

I sat at my desk the next day, trying to write encouraging words to a friend and finally decided that I needed some music for inspiration. The first song that played went like this:

“Whatever you’re doing inside of me… it feels like chaos but somehow there’s peace. It’s hard to surrender to what I can’t see, but I’m giving in to something heavenly. Time for a milestone… time to begin again. Revaluate who I really am.

So show me what it is you want from me.

I give everything….

I surrender….

Time to face up. Clean this old house. Time to breathe in and let everything out that I’ve wanted to say for so many years. Time to release all my held back tears. Whatever you’re doing, inside of me…. it feels like chaos, but…. I believe. You’re up to something bigger than me.

LARGER THAN LIFE.

Something HEAVENLY.”

While the “You’re up to something heavenly… bigger than me.” promise was still reverberating in my mind, the next words came through my speakers.

“Lord I come. I confess. Bowing here, I find my rest. Without you I fall apart… you’re the One that guides my heart. Lord I need you, oh, I need You. Every hour I need you.

My ONE DEFENSE.

My RIGHTEOUSNESS.

Oh God, how I need you. Where sin runs deep, your grace is more. Where grace is found is where you are. And where you are, Lord, I AM FREE!!

HOLINESS IS CHRIST IN ME.

Teach my song to rise to you, when temptations come my way. When I cannot stand I’ll fall on you. Jesus, you’re my hope and stay!!!!”

“Jesus… MY righteousness??” “Holiness is Christ in me?” I was overwhelmed.

“For real, Jesus? But…. my sins. They are HUGE! ”

“I AM your righteousness. It’s not about you at all. Where sin runs deep, My grace is MORE. Come to me, and you will be free.”

“Ok. I will!!!”

He smiled, and I could have swore He wrapped His arms around me.

My heart jumped into the sky. And of course, the next song that played was,

“I’m trading my sorrow! I’m trading my shame! I’m laying them down…. for the JOY OF THE LORD.”

THIS. This was what my Loving Father was holding out to me.

I received it, and cried.

Forgiveness overwhelmed me.

Yes, Lord. Yes. I AM blessed beyond the curse. Get behind me, satan. JESUS HIMSELF is fighting for me, and He will never stop.

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My Jesus is up to something LARGER THAN LIFE. Something HEAVENLY.

He does not despise me, but instead holds out HOLINESS, FREEDOM & GRACE.

His promise will endure, and His joy’s gonna be my strength.

He told me so Himself, in one big love ambush in my old-fashioned straight-backed chair.

And I accept His words.

My Best Addiction

Now that you all know I’m addicted to gummy bears….. (and oh happy day, I got a whole 1-lb bag of them for my birthday) I gotta tell ya’ll about my FAVORITE addiction.

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The one I plug into when I get upset at my boss.

Or when I’m preparing to teach.

Or when I’m bored by a mindless task.

Or when I’m driving, sitting, chewing, moping, running, or staring for hours at a blank computer screen.

Pretty much, I plug in all the time. My father loves it. Tiny kiddos love it. Basically, a win no matter who you are.

Am I gonna tell you what it is? Ohhhh no. Watch it on YouTube HERE.

And join the stampede of audio/visual learners!

We’re happy to have you 🙂

(Oh yeah…. and it’s available on Audible for free, with a one-month free trial subscription. You’re welcome.)

The Time When I Started a Church

Driving along a cold, forsaken road one dark night, my radio croaking out a mournful song,  I saw a church. A church that had a lighted cross by the highway, and warm, welcoming lights on inside, as if it was open to strangers and a crackling fire was burning in the hearth.

How strange!” I thought, “How very rare it is to see a lighted church at this time of day. I wonder if their doors are unlocked?”

“Hmm. That sight is like rest to my weary bones. If I ever started a church, I would have a parsonage, and leave the doors open and the lights on all day and night and people could come and go as they pleased, and always know that my church was a safe, private haven, always at their disposal.”

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And then I thought, “Ha! Start a church? Never!

There never WILL be perfect church.

Even if I gathered the smartest, most on-fire people to start my church, they would end up fighting. Wait, I bet that’s why, in the old days, there was just one man spear-heading the church. The parson. And the only person he had to get along with, if he wasn’t musically inclined himself, was the organist. A strange lot, those parsons, but still….. I think they were on to something with this one-man deal.”

So I planned it all out in my mind.

IF I was a man, and

IF I became a parson in the mountains of darkest Peru,

and IF I had my very own parsonage, I would win the people’s hearts for Christ and have a perfect church.

I would work tirelessly (with the help of many cups of coffee, of course) to meet all of their needs. I would love unconditionally. I would study the Word with passion.

I would preach the Gospel tirelessly, and speak truth in the face of lies. (But if I was feeling insecure, I would be silent.)

I would spend my last penny to bring cheer to my discouraged parishioners. (But some days, I would squander my last dollar on a bag of gummy bears, and eat them all in one sitting.)

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I would pray without ceasing. (But on days of total exhaustion, I would cut it short with the excuse, “I REALLY need my sleep.”)

The rickety little sign by the door would say, “Come just as you are!” But on a bad day, I would add “…but not if you have a dirty mouth, fart without shame, or act inappropriately towards the opposite gender”, because those are three of my pet peeves.

I would never judge a soul. (Unless it was someone who deeply hurt me.) I would fight for spiritual victories in my parishioners’ hearts. (Unless I was in a No-One-Is-Fighting-For-ME sort of mood, in which case I would block everyone out for awhile.)

I would do a lot of things, if I was a man, with a parsonage, in the darkest depths of deepest Peru.

But it would never be perfect.

Because I’m not.

Why do you stare at the tiny particle that is in your brother’s eye, but do not become aware of and consider the beam of timber that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, “Let me get the tiny particle out of your eye.”, when there is the beam  in your own eye? First get the beam of timber out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the tiny particle out of your brother’s eye.

Keep on asking and it will be given you! Keep on seeking and you will find; keep on knocking and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who keeps on asking receives; and he who keeps on seeking finds; and to him who keeps on knocking, the door will be opened.

Matthew 7:3-5,7,8

Those words are for me.

“Keep on asking, Kara. Change begins inside of you. One day, when all of my children finally arrive in heaven, all of these imperfect temples will transform to become My spotless bride.”

The Father’s Heart

The Father’s heart roars like a lion.

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He paces like a caged lion when he sees his children being abused, and his anger boils like a furnace and his muscles bulge as he fights to control his rage.

The Father’s heart is jealous and he does not control his anger forever.

The Lord your God is a devouring fire; he is a jealous God. Deuteronomy 4:24

He will test His children’s strength and prepare them for war, but if any one else dares to touch them, He is fast in his fury and His revenge–although sometimes unseen–is sure.

Vengeance and recompence belong to ME; the feet of My enemy will slide: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them are almost here. Dueteronomy 32:35

The Father’s heart is real, and because it is real it is breakable. It is bruised, cracked and ripped apart just like yours and mine.

Because it is loving.

The Father’s heart is loving towards us, because we are His children.

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! 1 John 3:1a

Because we are the Father’s children, the world hates us, and the father of lies tries his best to discourage.

The Father’s heart will not hold back forever. He sees all, and He has a plan.

The Lord of Heaven’s Armies says, “The day of judgment is coming, burning like a furnace. On that day the arrogant and the wicked will be burned up like straw. They will be consumed—roots, branches, and all. But for you who fear my name, the Sun of Righteousness will rise with healing in his wings.And you will go free, leaping with joy like calves let out to pasture. On the day when I act, you will tread upon the wicked as if they were dust under your feet,” says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies. Malachi 4:1-3

“Hold on, child. HOLD ON! I have never forgotten you.

I wish that you could see the bigger picture, but you are not meant to live in the spirit-world…. yet. I see your faith more clearly than you can, and rest assured that it is strong. It is growing, child!

I will WIN this battle… for YOU!

And you are aiding Me.

CHOOSE to be strong in My love. One day, I promise, I will make all things new.”

to go [low]

It happens at that moment when the dragon who has haunted my life for months gives one final gurgling gasp and collapses at my feet, and my triumphant shout of victory rings and echoes off the mountain ranges. I pull my sword out of his throat…

And that’s when I see it.

And I sigh so deeply that my chain mail rattles and groans and sounds like a creaking sob.

What do I see? It is the head of another, larger and more heavily armored dragon then the one I have just vanquished, looming up out of the mist of the valley at my feet.

I know this monster, too, is headed my way. I cannot stay here on the mountaintop. I must descend, and prepare once more to fight.

I’ve always wondered why bad things happen. Yes, I know all the clichés just as well as you do. “All things happen for a reason.” “Whatever doesn’t kill you will only make you stronger.” Got it. But my question is, when does stronger turn into strong enough?

Living life is hard. Why in the world can’t I just have a success, and then climb up to the next rung of the ladder of life….

instead of inevitably falling completely off of it again and again?

Why is life such a valley-mountaintop experience?

Why is life a CONSTANT struggle against evil?

Have you ever heard of Hind’s Feet on High Places? I am currently addicted to that book.

When I was younger, I read it mainly for the vivid pictures on every page. The words didn’t really sink in. But on a trip to Canada last spring, I listened to the words again. And suddenly, in a smack-upside-the-head revelation, all I could think was, “Shoot! That’s me! That’s me, that trembling waif who is weeping by the side of the trail, whose fears of what the unknown might ask of her loom greater than the giants of her past. That’s me, that girl with deformed legs and weak, trembling feet.”

I know this Much Afraid very well, because a large part of her lives inside of me.

My favorite part of the book was when Much Afraid stopped one day to rest beside a jumping, splashing brook. As she listened closely to the sounds the brook was making, she was amazed to hear the water actually singing these words:

Come, oh come! Let us away– lower, lower every day,

Oh, what joy it is to race, down to find the lowest place.

This is the dearest law we know– “It is happy to go low.”

Sweetest urge and sweetest will, “Let us go down lower still.”

Hear the summons night and day, calling us to come away.

From the heights we leap and flow, to the valleys down below.

Always answering to the call, to the lowest place of all.

Sweetest urge and sweetest pain, to go low and rise again.

“That is very puzzling,” said Much-Afraid [to the Shepherd]. ” ‘Let us go down lower still,’ the water seems to be singing so gladly, because it is hurrying to go down to the lowest place, and yet You are calling me to the Highest Places. What does it mean?”

“The High Places,” answered the Shepherd, “are the starting places for the journey down to the lowest place in the world. When you have hinds’ feet and can go ‘leaping on the mountains and skipping on the hills,’ you will be able, as I am, to run down from the heights in the gladdest self-giving and then go up to the mountains again. You will be able to mount to the High Places swifter than eagles, for it is only up on the High Places of Love that anyone can receive the power to pour themselves down in the utter abandonment of self-giving.”

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To POUR myself down in the utter abandonment of self-giving?

To run down from the heights in the GLADDEST self-giving and then go up to the mountains again?

To go low and rise again?

This is the lesson of the river. A lesson that it sings with utmost joy and gusto. Ever moving, ever rushing. Full of life and energy.

I’m pretty sure that the song of the brook just gave me a brilliant new note of happiness in the middle of my question. Why is life a CONSTANT struggle? Because I am growing, and evil is real. It does not want me to grow, and so it makes it hard.

But you know what makes my journey joyful? Knowing that every time I tumble off of my plateau of success and into the muck of the valley, I can pull a little stone out of the sludge (Much Afraid’s memorial for the lessons she learned) and use it in the future to pull someone else out of the muck of the valley. Someone who is weaker; a used-to-be-me.

I still don’t like the valley.

AT ALL.

But the Father is teaching me how to use more and more tools which make my time there recede. And it is AWESOME to take someone up to the High Places with me. After all, what fun is a mountaintop experience without someone to party with?

Sweetest joy and sweetest pain… to go low and RISE AGAIN.

You know I actually get the best of both worlds though, right? Because one time…. sometime, it will be my last trip out of the Valley.

And then I’ll get to party in the High Places FOREVER. That, my friend, is exciting.

Now, if you’ll excuse me….. I gotta go find my sword.

I have a dragon to kill.