Wednesday, March 25, 2015

"At Rest While Here" - 03/25/15 - Joshua 9-11

And Israel had rest from war. (11:23)

Rest.  From war. 

I so look forward to that time.  Heaven.  Peace.  Joy.  No conflict.  No Struggles.  No Pain.  No Suffering.  No Lies.  No tears.

No Doubt.

Last night as I sat inside, I could hear the strong winds whipping about our home, the wind chimes responding to the forces, ringing out their melodies.  Lightning flashed across the sky, thunder boomed, and the rains poured down from the heavens.  Inside, I am save, warm, protected.  As I am "in" Him.
I stood at the window watching.  Praying.  Thinking of the day ahead - this day.  I watched the rain and thought about how it represented our ABBA's many tears.  Tears He sheds over each of us when our hearts are heavy.  Are breaking. 
Today - this day - we came together to hold the service for our dear friend and sister, Terri.  I sat and listened to the words which were spoken, the songs being sung.  I sat and watched as the burden of sadness could be seen upon those who loved her so deeply and shared day to day living with her.  Her Kevin.  Her Mackenzie.  Her Logan. I sat and fought back the tears as memories came through.  I smiled as I could see her smile.  I was comforted knowing how much she enjoyed life.  I prayed thanksgiving for having the honor and privilege of knowing her.  Of calling her not only friend, but sister.
Sitting in the room of sadness.  Holding back the tears.  Hugs with words we pray will bring some comfort, all the while knowing they will never fill the void those we love leave when they go on before us to Home.  This isn't what our ABBA planned when He created Adam and Eve.  This isn't the Eden He laid out before them.  Death was not part of His plan. 
And because of sin - because of the free will of man to choose sin - death came into our world. 
The spiritual warfare began at that moment and will not be finished until our Savior comes again to take all of His Beloved - Home.  Home - where there is no death.  No rooms of sorrow.  No tears.  No pain.  Nothing that is not of Him.

And while on this earth, the winds of war will swirl about me, at times my spirit will become bruised from the debris flying about.  But "in" Him, my soul is protected.  Until Heaven, the only place of "rest" is "in" Him.  satan wants more than anything for me to pick up doubt and go with the winds of destruction.  To focus on the lies and not on my ABBA. 

Falling before Him on my knees,  I pray and His Word washes over me, shields me from the lies that are blowing over me, trying to penetrate into my self.  My fingers are in my ears, shutting out the sounds from outside and I am able to hear only His Voice from within me, whispering over and over from one of my favorites.

His Word - another Taste of Heaven He gives me as "rest from the war".

You have searched me and known me.               
You know my sitting down and my rising up; You understand my thought afar off.           
You comprehend my path and my lying down, And are acquainted with all my ways.              
For there is not a word on my tongue, But behold, O Lord, You know it altogether.            
You have hedged me behind and before, And laid Your hand upon me.            
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; It is high, I cannot attain it.            
Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence?            
If I ascend into heaven, You are there; If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.            
If I take the wings of the morning, And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,            
Even there Your hand shall lead me, And Your right hand shall hold me.            
If I say, "Surely the darkness shall fall on me," Even the night shall be light about me;            
Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You, But the night shines as the day; The darkness and the light are both alike to You.            
For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother's womb.            
I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well.            
My frame was not hidden from You, When I was made in secret, And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.            
Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, The days fashioned for me, When as yet there were none of them.            
How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How great is the sum of them!            
If I should count them, they would be more in number than the sand; When I awake, I am still with You.                 
Search me, O God, and know my heart; Try me, and know my anxieties;            
And see if there is any wicked way in me, And lead me in the way everlasting. (Psalm 139)

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