Grace

Spring by Russian artist Stanislav Zhukovsky

I came in peace, I sowed discord.
I sought to belong, I got rejection.
I wanted love, I found animosity.
I long for family, I made an enemy.

Through it all, God answered my needs.
Grace for all my frustrations, my emotions,
Grace for depression, for desperation,
Grace for arid valleys and destructive storms,
Sufficient grace even before I call.

In my struggles and restlessness,
He brought quiet rest.
I wrestle for rights, for supremacy,
I see His full glory in humility.

So I bowed as He took on Himself my faults.
Grace for all my weaknesses, my peccadilloes.
Grace for my inability, my futility,
Grace for fruitless years and empty life,
Abundant grace for a sinner such as me.

In victory I stand as I embrace His promises.
I conquer on my knees in Jesus' blessed name.
I overcome as He holds me--- Jesus, hold me.
I give grace, for Your grace is enough for me.

Copyright © 2017 zernahfaith

And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you,

 for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” 

Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, 

that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

(2 Corinthians 12:9)

*The verses above came about as I reflected on Abigail's life and example, and of course, I couldn't help but look on my own life and reactions. You may read Abigail's story on 1 Samuel 25. She is one amazing woman who, instead of focusing on injustice and rejection, chose to live in grace and give grace. She didn't dwell on her arid valleys but instead stored up in abundance kindness and generosity. When her moment came, the one where only she could avert disaster and use the gifts God had given her, she was more than ready. She rose up to the occasion.

I more than know that we often have our "arid valleys" and "destructive storms", whether brought on by circumstances or our own sinful tendencies, they cause us to cry out against God or to God. Whatever you choose to do, God's grace is abundantly made available for you. It is there to meet our every need. It is there to fill up our nothingness. It is there to grasp and hold on--- sufficient to the day, hour, minute, and moment of trial and weakness. Let Him hold you. His grace is enough.





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Courage

I have decided to follow Jesus. I've sung this since I was wearing childish bangs. These past few weeks, though, I have found myself needing some dose of courage. And true to His words, God provided me the encouragement to be brave.

I know I had been putting the decision off, thinking somehow that if I don't do anything or speak at all it will resolve itself. (Isn't that what we often wish? As if, evolution works!) But God works and in His mysterious way, He got my attention. Now I'm on to it and like a dog with a bone, I won't let go until I get my answer. The right one--- in line with His law of love.

I'm talking about being a mother, one who is given the responsibility to protect and raise God's children, providing them what they need and nurturing them to grow in the knowledge and grace of their Ultimate Parent. Because as women, we are builders of our homes. "The wise woman builds her house" (Proverbs 14:1). 

Bus Ride

A ride on the bus through the city
Revealed to me more than there was to see,
Not just the torrent of wet snow on the panes,
Nor the mud on my boots mucking up the lanes.

I saw a teenage girl with a guitar on her back,
Roomy clothes, cap turned back, a fashion slack.
I saw the guitar peeking through an unzipped bag
That got me worried like I've seen a red flag.

What if the guitar will fall through and crash?
Maybe I should zip it up as this girl had been in a rush.
But before I could, I glance up to see
A woman coming in shaking off all that flurry.

With damp hair sticking to her crown,
All that snow, as wet as rain, has pulled it down.
All the past efforts to coif and polish and style
Now all gone with the weather turning juvenile.

I consider--- some may be ready, some are not
Life still goes on whatever may be your plot.
Believe the Driver will get you There
'Cause if not, you might as well be going nowhere.

A young girl of ten, her jacket in rainbow hue
And the bounce on each step drew a few
Glances and smiles from every side---
Don't take it too hard, life's a bus ride.

Copyright © 2017 zernahfaith

• I wrote this while riding on the bus on my way to an evening class yesterday. Must have been the weather setting up the mood--- wet, slushy snow going straight to my face, and those who missed, lie churlishly on the ground. People, though, weren't minding it too much. For me, it was quite enjoyable. Then, there was all that people on the bus. And I love watching people. :)
• This is for all the women--- whatever type of woman you are, because a woman can be many types or all types if she wants--- who bring smiles, and beauty (and wit and life, because we do bring lots of stuff) on a bus ride. Happy Women's Day (for March 8th)!
• Finally, here's what this "ride" is really all about. 

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. 

My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, 

would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? 

And if I go and prepare a place for you, 

I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. 

You know the way to the place where I am going.”

(John 14:1~4)

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A Pimple, Pain and Praise

Today's blog is a simple praise to the God above. And it starts with

A pimple. One that was inside one of my nostrils exactly a week ago, and which I couldn't squeeze out of oblivion. Instead it swelled rendering me helpless, irritated and scared.

God is gracious. He is giving and generous. I have seen my plate full---prepared by a loving God--- that it wasn't easy choosing which enjoyable plat du jour to relish for the moment. I have family and friends I cherish, wonderful people I meet and learn with--- who challenge and stimulate growth--- a work I love and plenty of dreams taking shape right at this moment. I have no cause to complain, none at all, only many reasons to praise and worship Him. And foremost is because He is God, my God.

With hands full, I am doing a balancing act and along the way, I must have dropped a ball. Or simply, a pimple grew. But it gave me such terrible discomfort that I thought it was a death sentence. (Yeah, I am a cracked pot in many ways. Thank God, He holds me together in one place.)

Warm Thoughts On a Frosty Night

Our yule tree is still up but there are more pine needles and christmas balls on the floor than there are on the tree. Little Roxy has been busy shaking the tree and "trading" balls around with her older sisters. She thinks they should be carried around hanging from the fingers, like a vendor would when selling ready-to-eat rice wrapped in niyog (coconut) leaves. These vendors are usually found in the Philippines in places where people are on the move, usually get hungry and  have no time to spare for cooking, like bus terminals or stopovers.

There's a snowstorm brewing right now. Our second to be blessed with for this winter. Snow has been scarce and so it's welcome. The brick fence with all the snow that settled on it looks so dreamy. Every time I see fresh snow, this comes to mind:

“Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool. (Isaiah 1:18)

The scene outside is like that of angels plucking feathers from each others' wings and flinging them all around in happy abandon. Maybe they're having a pillow fight with the pillows of clouds bursting white snow. So much activity going on outside, pretty much unlike the scene inside, well, without the children. In a weather like this, I don't need much, just some hot tea, a heated floor, family around, a book, my notebook and pen, and a warm blankie. And yes, my necessary zumba on some mornings to get the stiff out of my creaky bones.

Keep It Simple

Winter in Russia by Oksana Yushko

Sipping my tea while waiting for Ella to finish her cereal, I type away as the two older kids torture each other with tickles. It's almost mid-morning but it's hard not to savor the last of the holidays. Tomorrow things will be back to usual--- waking up at seven, groggily making way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for my son while wiping away sleepy cobwebs from eyes and ignoring a more incessant call for sleep with a pounding headache, and after that, get Ella ready for kindergarten. Usually, after seeing them off, Roxy's robust voice will be heard calling for her mom. Or for potty time. Or breakfast.

But that's for tomorrow. Today, I've got today. I have a choice to do what I want with it. But what?

We got to celebrate Christmas yesterday and the day before that. And since it was Sabbath, I was doubly blessed. I was able to take part in a musical program, sang two beautiful songs and the next day, had a party with the young ones.

Actually, if I haven't come to this part of the world, I won't know at all that many observe Christmas way past the new year, unlike most countries who do so on December 25th. And I'm glad to be ending all these holiday-making (from December 25th to the New Year to January 7th) with the thought of Christ's first advent. And the reason why I'm still here. Here, anywhere in this world. And why I'm waiting, so earnestly for Jesus' second coming.

Keeper of Hearts

The sudden onslaught of emotions knocked me off the pedestal,
Where I've painstakingly enthroned myself.
Unguarded, I came undone.
Powerless, I realize how puny I am.
I am no less capable of guarding this heart than I was when I gave that first cry.

A heart compelled to lie, to doubt, to fear
Is the only gift I can offer.
Lord, keep this heart, it is Yours
As you've tenderly cared for it from wars,
Fighting for my cause, You bear the scars.

Teach my heart to be still, to trust, to let go and just be held.
With only You enthroned and none else.
No hate, no fear, no sinful disease.
Let it overflow with love and joy,
A faith so strong that hope abounds. Keep it, guard it, oh, Keeper of Hearts.