Who Am I?

Who Am I? I know that I am a daughter, sister, friend, aunt, co-worker, cousin and niece. But who am I? Who am I when the rest of the world isn't watching? When I'm safely tucked away in my home? When I'm driving down the road? When I'm scared and alone? Who am I when it feels like the world is closing in?

I am the girl who makes up crazy little songs and sings them to my dog while doing housework, working on the computer, or lying in bed praying for sleep to gently wash over me. I am the woman who turns into a little girl while playing hangman with her nieces while waiting for dinner to be served at the restaurant. I am the woman, longing for a love and a family of her own. I am the daydreamer, who builds castles in the clouds while my feet tread upon the reality of this earth. I am the lost soul who hungers and thirsts for living water. I am His creation, beautifully formed by my Master's hands. Every curve of my face, every hair on my head, from the color of my eyes to the length of my fingers...fearfully and wonderfully made.

Lest I forget who I am...He seeks to remind me each day. With the gentle songs of the birds, the brush of wind across my face, the dance of the leaves in the trees...through it all he whispers to me, "You are more lovely than any of these. You are my very heart embodied in flesh and bone. There is no one else like you. No one else who can fulfill the purpose and plans I have for you. Look at yourself through My Eyes...see yourself as I see you." He loves me in spite of myself. He loves me unconditionally, passionately and with so great a love that He gave His life for me. I did nothing to deserve it. I stand and I fall so many times. How can He not just leave me in my heap upon the floor as I lay there for the 40th time after tripping on life, yet again. Why does He stay, gently lifting me again to my feet, steadying me and carrying me forward with Him once again? I do not deserve it...and yet...

...I don't remember this mirror being here. Where did it come from? How long has it been here? I reach out to gently touch the shiny surface, amazed at the beauty of the frame and the clearness of my image. My image...I gasp...and step closer. This cannot be...I am not that beautiful. Yet in this mirror, the image I see reflected is my image as He shines through me. Such beauty is astounding. And amazing. Who knew that this could be who I am? Only the Father, with His Potter's hands knew that this was who I was and who I was meant to be.

"Father God, help me to see myself and others through your loving eyes. To see who you created us to be and not who we currently see in our own stained and broken mirror. Help us to see the beauty of Your creation in us. That we are uniquely and wonderfully created by You, for You and for Your good pleasure. Help us to remember that You want the very best for us....even in the midst of trials and heartache. That you want us to continue to grow and seek you in all that we do. Help us to love each other as well as ourselves as deeply and completely as You love us. And help us to see ourselves and each other, through Your eyes of love. In Jesus' name, amen."

The Heart of the Matter

Have you ever loved someone so much...only to have them shred your heart into what feels like a million tiny pieces? To have them tell you just how much they love you and to want to know why the two of you aren't married, only to have them turn their back on you for someone else? And you try, so hard, to be a good person, to be understanding and supportive of situations in their life only to discover that it was all a huge waste of time, that they had just lied to you, time and again? Just as they had done for as long as you have known them.

Your friends and family tell you that you are too forgiving...too nice to someone who has put you through the grinder and back again, more than once. When the hardest thing you had to do was to tell this person-who your heart has loved for over 8 years-to "forget we ever knew each other." And how, even a month after the fact, your heart is still breaking...still reeling from the betrayal...still aching for loving them. Still missing them, the sound of their voice, their laughter.


You spend a lot of time in prayer...searching for an answer as to "why" this happened to you? What lesson were you supposed to learn from this? That you are supposed to turn the other cheek, to forgive 70 x 7 (daily), that you are to love and hate not? How do these Biblical principles apply in situations like this? How do you find peace in the midst of this storm? How do you forgive someone who said they never wanted to hurt you, but...


"Father, help me choose to forgive. To wipe the slate clean and start anew. Hold my broken heart in Your potter hands and reshape it into the heart You meant for it to be. Be my strength when mine is gone. See my heart, the shattered dreams that lay within the fragmented shell. I trust that You have it all worked out, for both our good. That You know the plans You have for our lives and that You will always bring good from the bad. Heal the fractures, soothe the pain and let true, unadulterated love live in each of our separate lives again. Help me to see the One You have set in place for me and not be blinded by a dead love that covers my heart. In Jesus' name, Amen.

The Inhumanity of Humans - The Humanity of God

Meet Boudreaux. After his bath. After having a full day's worth of food. After being dumped, unceremoniously by the individual who had starved and abused him by trying to fight him. That's all I can assume at this point, based on the scars and fresh marks on his body. Yes, he is a pit bull, but in spite of these atrocities that have been committed against him, he is still loving and friendly. Unfortunately, due to his breed, I am not allowed to provide a home for him - breed restrictions for apartments, you know. And due to the stigma that is attached to his breed, no one else wants to step up and provide a home for him. This picture is from day one with me...his first night at my home. That was Tuesday. Yesterday, I had to take him to my parent's home, because I had to have him out of mine by that deadline. I have called, e-mailed, pestered friends and family alike and frantically tried to find a "no-kill" shelter, a pit bull rescue site, anyone, someone who would give this sweet boy a safe haven from the awful world he has lived in. The Williamson County Humane Society tried to find space for him, but to no avail. They tested him for heart worms - he had none. They implemented their Behavioral Test - he passed with flying colors - no aggressive behaviors. The medical director, when she brought him out was amazed. "He's free of heart worms, no aggressive behaviors, he's very smart - a fast learner! What a sweet dog!" She tried, but wasn't able to find a spot for him - they were full and already over quota for the number of pit bulls they could have at one time in their shelter. I think it broke both of our hearts.

Through it all, Bou (Boo), wags his tale, smiles, and looks at us all with his beautiful tan eyes. So full of hope, so full of love. Unconditional, in spite of what he has been through. So I will keep searching. This week will be for getting him checked out by my vet, getting his shots, heart worm preventative medicine and neutering. Finding out what we need in order to heal the sores on his body from the fighting, what we need for healing any infection that may be in his body from the untreated marks. See how we can fix his broken tail. Try to heal the external. Learning that our love to him and for him appears to have healed the internal. That in just 4 1/2 days, he had already come to recognize my front door as his home, my face, the sound of my voice - me, as belonging to him. Attached. Loved - loving. Unconditional. Not knowing if I will ever hurt him, starve him...he trusts me. Gentle soul meets gentle soul.

Thankful, I am. I work with other gentle souls. They reach out. Try to help. Try to find a loving home for him. And still we search. I will not give up. I will not allow him to be euthanized simply because of his breed. His behavior has spoken so loudly, I cannot see the stigma of his breed.

How like God he is. Rejected. Hurt. Neglected by the very ones he loves the most. That he would do anything for. And still, he loves, unconditionally. Enormously. Without bias. Without regret. Without regard for the wrongs perpetrated on or against him. What a lesson. We as humans, when we are hurt, lash out. We want to hurt the ones who have hurt us, to cause them the same pain they have caused us. But we, as Christians, true Christians - being Christ-like, should love in spite of the pain, in spite of the hurt, the wrongs. What a simple lesson of God's love and forgiveness, shown by a beautiful part of God's creation. Lesson learned, Bou. Thank you.

Please take time to research your local "no-kill" shelters and rescue sites. Volunteer. Donate, be it monetarily or by donating food for the animals. Please be sure to spay or neuter your pets. Every hour, hundreds of pets are euthanized because either no one wanted them, or they just didn't want to invest the time and energy required, into them. I have always felt that when I take on the responsibility of bringing an animal into my home, into my family - they become a part of it for life. It takes each and every one of us being proactive in this quest in order to make this a better world. For us, for our children, for our pets and the other pets that are currently in the system. We need to step up and be responsible citizens. Report abuse. Care for the needy. Step out of our comfort zones and be the hands for God to work through. I am currently looking into volunteering for one of our shelters and am planning out fundraising ideas and food drives in order to be more pro-active in seeing to this need. Won't you do the same, please?

Easter Sunday

Mary Magdalene awakens. It is still dark outside, but it is finally Sunday morning. Time to get up, she thinks to herself. Time to prepare Jesus’ body for it’s final burial. She sits for a moment on her bed, thinking of when she first met Jesus. She had been possessed by seven demons and he had commanded them to leave her. My life has not been the same since that time, she thinks to herself. Where would I be without him? What will I do without my Savior, my friend? She rises from her bed, preparing herself for what she must do, with a great heaviness on her heart.

As the first streaks of dawn wind their way across the dark sky, Mary, the mother of James, and Salome, knock on the door of Mary Magdalene. “Are you ready, Mary?” they ask. “Yes.” The three women walk quickly through the streets to the place where Jesus was laid, wondering amongst themselves who would roll away the large stone that had been ordered to be placed in front of the tomb by the chief priests and the Pharisees.

“Look!” gasps Salome. Both Mary’s look in the direction of the tomb. The huge stone is gone, rolled away from the mouth of the tomb. Carefully, the three ladies walk into the tomb and are startled to see a young man sitting inside wearing a long, white robe. They are very frightened. The young man speaks and says, “Please don’t be afraid. I know that you seek Jesus. He is not here. He is risen! Look, here is the place where his body once lay.” The three women turn and run from the tomb in both fear and amazement. What has become of Jesus’ body?

A short while later, as Mary Magdalene is sitting dazed in the garden near the tomb and in shock from this morning’s events, she suddenly feels a peace envelope her. “Mary.” She looks up, startled by the sound of her name. By a voice she recognizes so well. “Rabboni! Jesus!” she gasps. “I am he that lived, and then was dead and behold I am alive forevermore. I hold the keys of hell and death.”

The Bible says “He was wounded for our transgressions (disobedience), he was bruised for our iniquities (wicked acts). The chastisement (punishment inflicted by whipping) of our peace was upon him; and by his stripes we are healed (to make whole, to restore to original purity or integrity).” Isaiah 53:5

© Melissa A. Gustafson April 8, 2007

Saturday

The agony of waiting to prepare his body for it’s final interment is excruciating. Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of James, prepare the spices and ointments in silence, knowing that they must finish it before sunset. Before the Sabbath begins. And then, they must wait for one full day before they can go and anoint his body for it’s final burial. Would the pain and heartbreak of this day ever end? How could they have crucified Jesus instead of that murderer, Barabas? What was it the old prophet Isaiah had said? “…and he bare the sin of many, and made intersession for the transgressors.” So many of the people had taunted him with his own words, saying, “Ah, you that said you would destroy the temple and build it again in three days? Save yourself! Come down from the cross!” Why hadn’t he done just that? If he was the Messiah, why did he not save himself and show these doubters who he really was?

Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of James, sit and wait. Doubt and despair fill their minds. But their hearts, their hearts seem to know something different and so they wait. They wait for the Sabbath to pass. They wait for Sunday to arrive. Three days. That was what he had said. He would raise the temple again in three days.

Satan and his demons are having a celebration. They have defeated Jesus! The living son of God! He is dead! They can’t wait to plan their next attack on mankind. Jesus isn’t in the way to stop them any longer.

Suddenly, over the cacophony of the celebration, a sound shakes these demons to their core. They hear the squeak of a door opening and there is suddenly this brilliant light filling the room where they are at. It is so bright, they shade their beady demon eyes with their hands to try and see what the source of this light is. Their stomachs immediately clench and a sour feeling creeps up from the deepest part of their beings. Every muscle is tense. How can this be? This is not possible! He is dead! He cannot be standing before us now! But he was standing before them. In all his heavenly glory…Jesus. “I have come for the keys!” Satan trembled in anger…how could this be? He should not be here! “No! The keys are mine! They have been mine since Eve and Adam disobeyed you in the garden! I will not give them up!” he shouted, his voice trembling. “The keys, Lucifer!” Jesus said in a voice filled with great authority and power. Shaking, Satan stumbles forward, unable to see where he is going in the brightness of Jesus. “Take them then!” he hisses. “But know that this is not the end for us. I will do battle for generation upon generation for these souls. And we will see who will win in the end!”

Jesus takes the keys from Satan, smiling. “We already know who wins, Lucifer. I do. And though you will continue to pollute the minds and hearts of people with your filth, I will continue to love them, forgive them and comfort them and win their hearts with my unconditional and unwavering love. I have given my life in place of theirs, so they will have eternity to spend with me. I am the resurrection and the life: those who believe in me, though they were dead, yet will they live. And those that live and believe in me will never die.”

Darkness falls over Jerusalem as the Sabbath comes to an end. This day has been dreary. Dark and cold. As if life it’s self has left the earth. Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of James, look at one another. Tomorrow. In the morning they will go and prepare the body of Jesus. Sunday is almost here. What will happen tomorrow?


© Melissa A. Gustafson April 7, 2007

Good Friday

Friday – the day he trudged through the streets of Jerusalem with the heavy weight of the cross upon his torn back, laid open by the thirty-nine lashes from a cat-of-nine tails. With those who just six days before who had greeted him in these same streets with palm leaves shouting out, “Hosanna! Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” now screaming obscenities and spitting on him as he labors through the mass of bodies that line the narrow street. He stumbles, the wood from the cross tearing into his raw and mangled back, slivers of wood driving deeply into his flesh. He raises his trembling hand to wipe a mixture of sweat and blood from his eyes as he feels the thorns from the “crown” they placed upon his head pressing more deeply into his brow as the cross shifts against him. The sweat burns his cheeks as it touches where just hours before, his beard had been plucked from his face. One of the Roman guards pulls a man named Simon, a Cyrenian, from the crowd and compels him to carry the cross for Jesus the rest of the way to Calvary.

As they prepared to crucify him, they lay him down upon the cross. They drive nails through his hands and feet, his flesh opening to receive them. With every blow of the hammer, his love for us is shown, as he lays there, without complaint, knowing that this is the way of salvation for all mankind. As they raise the cross and gravity pulls upon his body, as they drop the cross into place, jolting his hands and feet where they are nailed, crushing the crown of thorns even more deeply into his head, sending more fragments of wood further into his bloody back, he simply says, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” A simple, yet powerful request from a life lived that exemplifies forgiveness and unwavering love. They pull his clothes from his body, leaving him naked and exposed…as a final insult and indignity for the Son of God. They mock him and knowing he is thirsty, they offer him vinegar to drink.

It is only the sixth hour of the day…what is this great darkness that has blotted out the light from the face of the earth? Could this be creation trying to clothe his nakedness in darkness? For three hours this darkness remains. There is talk amongst the people…the veil in the temple ripped in two…from the top to the bottom by some unseen force. What does this foretell? Then, Jesus speaks saying, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Those are his final words, as his body succumbs into death. A soldier pierces his side to ensure that he is dead and blood and water flow from the wound.

Joseph, of Arimathaea, a just and good man, makes provision for the body of Jesus to be buried in a tomb he owns. As the men gently lay his body on the cold stone, the women leave to prepare spices and ointments for his burial.

© Melissa A. Gustafson April 6, 2007

In the Midst of the Storm

You feel it...the pressure all around. It permeates the air...you can feel the electricity and dampness surrounding you. A storm is coming. What will it bring? How long will it last? Will I still be standing when it finally passes, you wonder? Can I make it through another storm? The last few have left me so battered and bruised...I don't know it I have the strength to get through another one, you think.

The storms of life come and go, often at the most unexpected moments. And they can last for a split second or for what seems like a lifetime. Be still in the storm. Listen. Not to the thunder that roars at you...not to the rolling waves of rain that come crashing down on you...not to the sound of breaking branches and flooding streams. Listen for the calm, sure voice. "I am here. I am with you in the midst of this storm. I will not leave you. I will see you through this. Do not be afraid."

"But God...don't you see..." as you try to point out all that rages around you. "Hush, child. I created it all...I command it all. This is but a season and then it will be gone. Be strong. Be of good courage. Have faith. Trust me." Trembling, weak and afraid, you reach for His hand and that is when you see that you are walking on the water, in the midst of the storm...and that calm surrounds the place you stand...hand in hand with your creator. Be still...listen to His voice...lean on him...trust that He will see you through this.

"Daddy God, for those who are struggling through their own storms...please help them to find rest in You. Wrap Your strong, safe and secure arms around them and give them peace to face what lies ahead. Let them remember in the darkest hours of their storm, that You walk with them through it all. Encourage them in this journey and let them feel Your Love enfold them. Strengthen them and give them peace. In Jesus' name, Amen."

Scrub-A-Dub-Dub, How Clean Is Your Tub?

What is it about hard water and the stains it leaves behind? I think I have used every cleanser in my arsenal, and yet, not one has cut through the white, spotted, streaking mess on the glass of my shower door, on the tile, on the fixtures. I scrub and scrub until my arm goes numb with the repetitious motion. I know if I hired a professional cleaning company to come in, they would spray some mysterious mixture of cleansers onto these stains and they would fade away, as if they never existed.

As I continue to struggle with these stains, these ghostly shadows from my past showers, it reminds me of our lives...of the way we allow the stains of our past, the pain, the failures, the flaws of who we once were to forever mark our souls. Yet there was One who came, the "Professional Cleaner", if you will, who had the "mysterious cleanser" that could wash all those stains away. His name was Jesus...is Jesus...and it was, and is, His Blood that made and continues to make all of those spots, streaks and stains disappear from my life...from yours. We have but to repent and to ask...and His Blood covers them all, erasing them from our souls as if they never existed. "....the Blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin." 1 John 1:7

How wonderful to know that my spotted, streaked life is cleaned daily by the Master! And that I know He doesn't have to scrub and scrub to make it clean...His Blood Covers and Cleanses with just one drop. His Blood keeps it that way. As I go back to my scrubbing, with each movement of my hand, my heart will say, "Thank You, Lord! Thank You for Your cleansing blood that covers me...that saves me...that forgives me! Thank You for Your reminder today of just how much You gave out of Your Love for me!"

"Sweet Jesus, thank you for loving me so much that you chose to give your life for mine. Thank you that your shed Blood cleanses me, covers me and keeps me. As I go through this day, help me to remember that without you, we are all stained with sin, and with you, we are all washed clean by the heavenly rain of your blood. I love you, Jesus, and I give you this day, this life, all that I am...and all that I hope to be...because only by your sacrifice, am I made worthy. In Jesus' name, Amen."

TRUST

No raise this year...gas prices rising...utilities increasing...stress...worry...

"I trust you, Lord."

Deadlines...sickness...loneliness...

"I trust you, Lord."

Fear...doubt...insecurity...

"I trust you, Lord."

Marital problems...children out of control...debts piling up...

"I trust you, Lord."

What do you say as you face your daily life?

"I trust you, Lord."

It's a simple statement...but perhaps it's one that is used too infrequently or too flippantly by many of us. Do we really trust Him? The acronym of trust: to rest on sure things. Funny that the word rest is in there. Most of us don't even know what the word "rest" really means anymore. Rest is defined as: freedom from activity or labor; peace of mind, or spirit. How appropriate that the word trust can represent a ceasing of labor and peace of mind. How many of us are looking for those very things?! So then why do we find it so hard to trust God? Is it that part of us that doesn't really want to let go of the reigns and let someone else take control of the situations in our life? Or is it that we are just so sure that no one else can really take care of things the way we can? Or is it that we have just lost our simple, child-like ability to trust our Creator?

Whatever the cause is for each of us individually, it comes down simply to this: Giving it to Him is not giving up. It's trusting that He knows better than we do in each of the situations.

Each day my prayer is this: I trust you, Lord. My life, my thoughts, my needs, my wants, my dreams...everything that I have, everything that I don't have...I place it all in Your Hands. I trust that You know what the very best for me is in each of my life situations. I rest in Your promise that You only want good things for my life. I know that what You have in mind for me is a sure thing. I trust you, Lord!

Swept and Ready

As I watch the time slip swiftly by me today and think of all the things I've yet to do, that I need to do, but cannot seem to force myself to do...I think of the things that He did for me, for you. That he did not want to do, but He did it anyway. Out of Love. A Love so great that it caused Him to give His very Life। His life was swept and ready for what lay ahead of Him. Today I asked myself, "Is yours?"

To my dismay, at this moment, I must say "no" as a heavy sigh escapes my lips. Bogged down in life is what I am. The mire is all around me...I need to get sweeping...but again...I just don't feel ready for that labor today. The list if things to do seems to get longer, the clothes pile up; the dishes too. Something always needs dusting, sweeping, vacuuming, washing, walking, feeding. At work there is the never ending stack of paper that no matter how hard I work or quickly I process it, it seems to pile up even more. No, today I am bogged deeply in the mire of life...buried in self pity and loathing of my life. I am tired. I am weary. I do not want to sweep my life clean right now.

Neither did I. But I Love you so much that I did it anyway.

"Okay, Lord।" I sigh, again. "I get it." And I do. In spite of all that life is throwing at us, all the cares and frustrations, all the work, the constant struggle...He is there. He will be there. And He wants us to do the same for Him. So now, I cease my daily struggle with this fleshly life and I begin to sweep my soul, slowly, methodically. Back and forth. The dust flies, swirling in the air, dancing on the rays of light that shine through the windows of my soul. Sweep, dust, make ready. The King of Kings is calling...knocking on my heart's door. Am I swept and ready to receive Him?

Saturday Musings

I have so many other things I should be doing...I need to be doing...and yet, here I sit. Setting up a blog that both tantalizes and frightens me. It's been ages since I have done any kind of writing, but at one time, it was my heart's passion. Only to be left in the dusty pages of my youth, overshadowed or completely covered up by the reality of daily living - working to earn ones keep and to just make it through each day.

Lately...I've felt it's tug again. In the moments when all is quiet and still - I hear the echos of a love forgotten: whispering, tugging, wooing...calling me back to the contemplative times of my youth. The many hours spent daydreaming, hearing stories and poems rushing through the fragrant walkways of my mind. Dare I even contemplate pursing that love again? Have I waited too long? Have I ignored it so much that there is nothing left to imagine? Those are my fears. What if there is no talent left? What if I squandered what was given and have just an empty space where that blessing was once placed?

I will try again. I will spend precious time in prayer and study, seeking, believing that the thing He placed so vibrantly within me, that has been left to ruin, can be reborn. That new life and new breath can be breathed into that which has been mis-used, forgotten and taken for granted.

"Lord, this is my prayer. That I may use the talents that you have blessed me with to touch the lives of others. That Your Light, Your Love, Your Hope will once again, breathe through me. Let my life be a beacon for those in search of You. A lighthouse of Hope in a world struggling to survive, to find reason in the insanity of life; to once again Believe and to Trust; to come to intimately know You - Almighty God."