Conversations at the Well

THE WORD IS NEAR

2012-02-03T08:49:00.000-08:00

A cinnamon clove candle flickered, filling the air with the gentle warmth of its fragrance, as I sat in the stillness at the well. The outside world had not yet begun to stir and the hands of busyness had not yet started tugging at my thoughts, trying to pull me in this direction and that. Soon the world, in all its “loudness” would begin to press in, but for now I sat in the embrace of quietness at my favorite place to meet with the Lord. I looked around thinking of all the conversations He and I had shared in this very place. It was then I noticed Him walking the well worn path to the well and my heart was glad as He drew near and sat down.
“Good morning,” He said.
“Good morning, Lord,” I replied
I followed His gaze to where His Book lay open to the place I had been reading in Deuteronomy 30. Moses was addressing the people of Israel.
He held it in His hands and began to teach me. The very page seemed to breathe, the words living and active as He spoke and my heart hung on every word.

11 Now what I am commanding you today is not too difficult for you or beyond your reach. 12 It is not up in heaven, so that you have to ask, "Who will ascend into heaven to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?" 13 Nor is it beyond the sea, so that you have to ask, "Who will cross the sea to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?" 14 No, the word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart so you may obey it. Deuteronomy 30:11-14 (NIV)

I thought about the many copies of His Book I had around the house and in my office, and yet I sometimes behaved as if they were in some far off country and I just couldn’t get to any of them. I thought of places in the world where God’s people huddled in dark, musty basements, risking their very lives in order to hear the Word of God. And I, well I allowed His precious Word to gather dust on the shelf.
“Oh,” I cried, my heart broken in His presence. I knelt at His feet and asked Him to forgive me and to breathe on the embers of my heart until it was ablaze in an undying love and passion for His Word.
“The word is very near you,” I heard Him say again.
My heart looked up at Him who gave all for me, and I whispered, “You are the Word, Lord.”
He carried my contrite heart with Him to John 1 where He continued to teach me about Himself.
When He had finished reading, we sat quietly as my heart took in all He had said. I began making a bit of a list of the things I learned about Him in John 1:1-14 and I decided to read it out loud to Him.
Jesus, You are:
Eternal
The Word
With God
God
Creator of all things
Life
The Light of the world
The Word made flesh
The only begotten from the Father
Full of grace and truth

There at the well, as the horizon began to blush at the coming day, He brought my heart back to where we had begun in Deuteronomy 30. His voice thundered through the heavens causing the birds to take flight, as the power of His word stirred my soul to worship as He said, “the Word is near!”

Dear one, are you daily in His Word, or is it gathering dust on your bedside table? My friend, before the day and all its tasks pull you hither and yon; will you not stop and sit awhile with Him? The Word is not far away. Indeed, the Word is near.

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan February 3, 2012

A HEART STEEPED IN THE WATER OF THE WORD

2011-12-16T12:58:00.000-08:00

A HEART STEEPED IN THE WATER OF THE WORD
…so that He might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word
Ephesians 5:26 (NASB).

The unfamiliar sound of the tea kettle whistled into the early morning stillness, and I made my way to the kitchen and lifted the kettle from the stove and the stillness returned as I poured boiling water into my mug, the steam swirling upward into the chill December dawn. This time of day usually finds me enjoying coffee with toffee nut creamer, but not today. A cold has settled in, so with my head feeling as though it is stuffed with cotton, I placed a tea bag in the water and carried my mug of comfort in one hand, a box of tissue in the other and shuffled to my place at the Well.

I curled up in my favorite chair at the Well, snuggling deep under a throw given to me by my Aunt Linda, and picked up a devotional called ‘I Come Quietly To Meet You’, which is a compilation of writings by one of my favorite heroes of the faith, Amy Carmichael. I opened it and read the words Amy had penned so long ago. And then these words caused me to stop as they entered and stirred my heart.

“Oh, what a book the Bible is! If only we would steep our souls in its mighty comfort…”

“Hmmmm…souls steeped in the Bible,” I whispered as I pondered what Amy had written.

I picked up the mug, gently lifted the tea bag from its steeping place, set it on the saucer and then took a sip of the tea. The steeping had done its work and the herbal tea soothed my throat and seemed to fill me on the inside with warming comfort.

I studied the tea bag and thought back to when I removed it from its packaging. It was dry and simply lay there. But when the tea bag was immersed in hot water and began to steep, something wonderful began to take place. The water softened it, and permeated it, filling it completely, drawing out the aroma, the flavor, the healing properties contained in herbal tea. My imagination stirred to wakefulness and the word picture of my heart steeping in the Word of God filled my thoughts.

A conversation came to mind that my friend Catherine Martin and I had recently about the power of the Word of God and how we are washed in the water of the word, …so that He might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, Ephesians 5:26 (NASB).

The Lord brought to mind Psalm 119 which is all about the Word of God. I turned there in my Bible and as I began to read the Lord arrived and dipped my heart in the water of His Word and I settled in and began to steep in it. Why don’t you join me?

The psalmist often spoke of several responses he had toward God and His Word: “delight” (Ps. 119:16, 24, 35, 47, 70, 77, 92, 143, 174), “love” (vv. 47-48, 97, 113, 119, 127, 132, 159, 163, 165, 167), “obey” (vv. 8, 17, 34, 44, 56-57, 60, 67, 88, 100-101, 129, 134, 145, 158, 167-168; cf. “obeyed” in vv. 4, 136 and “obeying” in v. 5), “meditate” (vv. 15, 23, 27, 48, 78, 97, 99, 148), and “rejoice” (vv. 14, 74, 162). He also wrote that he wanted God and His Word to “renew” him (vv. 25, 37, 40, 107, 149, 154, 156; cf. vv. 50, 93) and “preserve” him (vv. 88, 159). Twelve times the psalmist referred to himself as God’s servant (vv. 17, 23, 38, 49, 65, 76, 84, 124-125, 135, 140, 176).
—Bible Knowledge Commentary

As my heart soaked in the words of Psalm 119, I found myself wanting to dwell there in the water of His word all day. I thought I knew what the Psalmist meant when he wrote, “Your word is very pure, therefore Your servant loves it.” Psalm 119:40

Lord, thank You for Your Word. Like a tea bag, let my heart be immersed in the truth of Your living and active word. Fill me. Soften me. Permeate me. Heal me. Comfort me. Strengthen me. Correct me. Encourage me. Refresh me. Renew me. Love me. Teach me. Use me. Lord, as you fill me through the day with the truth of Your Word let it flow out of me into the lives of those you send my way today. Give me the courage to take them by the hand and lead them into the life giving water of your Word. To introduce them to Jesus, who is the Word made flesh, the living Word. I love you, Lord. Amen.

I was reminded of one of my favorite songs by MercyMe. I sat at the Well and listened to the words and they came over me with fresh meaning. You can listen too, if you like.

"Word Of God Speak"
Mercy Me
I'm finding myself at a loss for words
And the funny thing is it's okay
The last thing I need is to be heard
But to hear what You would say

[CHORUS]
Word of God speak
Would You pour down like rain
Washing my eyes to see
Your majesty
To be still and know
That You're in this place
Please let me stay and rest
In Your holiness
Word of God speak

I'm finding myself in the midst of You
Beyond the music, beyond the noise
All that I need is to be with You
And in the quiet hear Your voice

[REPEAT CHORUS 2x]

I'm finding myself at a loss for words
And the funny thing is it's okay
The world clock announced that it was time for me to get ready for work and begin a new day. As I left the Well I no longer shuffled, and though my head was still congested and felt filled with cotton, inside I was renewed and refreshed. Not because of anything I had done. No, it was all the Lord’s doing, for His word tells us in John 15:5 that apart from Him we can do nothing. I opened the door and stepped out into a world thirsty for the life that only He can give, and I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for the work He had done in my heart – a heart captured by grace and steeped in the water of His transforming, living Word.

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan December 16, 2011

PATHS MADE STRAIGHT

2011-10-26T02:25:00.000-07:00

5 Trust in the LORD with all your heart,
And do not lean on your own understanding.
6 In all your ways acknowledge Him,
And He will make your paths straight.
Proverbs 3:5-6 (NASB77)

I read the words again, my brow crinkling in the center as it has a habit of doing when something isn’t making sense to me.

I had read these words many times as I sat at the Well of His Presence, and often tucked them into my heart, carrying them into the day with me to be both savored and shared. But today they seemed jumbled up, like puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit.

Just where are the straight paths? I thought to myself as I looked behind at yesterday. The path appeared anything but straight. It was winding wildly about, turning this way and that way. I hesitantly peered around the corner of tomorrow, my eyes following the path as it wound its way up a steep incline and then disappeared from view in a mist of uncertainty that hung in the air like an early morning fog.

I sat quietly thinking about what it meant to trust in the Lord with all my heart, and to acknowledge Him in all my ways. Hmmm….these thoughts about trusting God and acknowledging Him reminded me of Daniel. I had been reading all about Daniel in a women’s bible study I was attending at church. We were in Daniel chapter six this week and I quickly turned there.

Now we don’t know what took place in the lions’ den. We only know that Daniel was thrown there, a great stone placed over the entrance and sealed with the signet rings of the king and his nobles. But the morning finds Daniel unharmed as he tells the king that an Angel of God closed the mouths of the lions.

I have a vivid imagination and I just can’t help wondering what that must have been like. I thought about Daniel at the age of 80 being thrown in with the lions. These were not tame lions. I had learned that a healthy adult male lion could be as much as 9-feet in length and weigh between 413 to 466 pounds. That is BIG!

My palms began to sweat as I read the words in verse 16, “…and they brought Daniel.

I sat quietly and was certain I heard the echo of footsteps on an ancient path in Babylon; a path that took Daniel from his knees before God to the lions’ den.

I closed my eyes just as Daniel hit the ground with a thud. He lay there for a moment looking around him as the men above moved a boulder over the entrance to the den so there was no way out.

He lay still, his eyes staring into the darkness as movement captured his attention and he turned his gaze to the left as a figure stalked out of the shadows and moved toward him, slowly, quietly and yet with great power in each step.

A roar shook the very ground that lay beneath him, the air reverberated as other lions answered in kind. One by one, they walked from the shadowed darkness, coming ever nearer. Two of the males approached, circling around him, their breath hot on his skin. Their paws were twice the size of Daniel’s hands, and he knew with one swipe of just one of those powerful paws with razor like claws, his life on this earth would be over. It was then Daniel made his way slowly to his knees. He had resolved long ago to live a life loyal to the One True God, and a den of lions at the end of a dusty path in Babylon did nothing to change that. If this was the end of his earthly life, then he would end it the way he had lived it, on his knees praying to the Living God.

Daniel prayed, the lions paced, but their great roars were silenced, their powerful jaws shut tight by an unseen hand. While they paced and snorted and came so near to him at times that their fur brushed against him, they did not place a single paw on him. Daniel continued talking to God through the night in the midst of lions.

The morning found Daniel unharmed. And the jubilant King punished the evil doers and issued a decree to the entire kingdom that everyone should worship the God of Daniel.

I sat in the predawn stillness, pondering the path Daniel had walked, which appeared to be anything but straight. If God didn’t make someone like Daniel’s paths straight, what hope was there for someone like me? It was hard to understand.

“Don’t lean”, His voice filled the dawn and my heart looked up as He whom my heart loves drew near. I wanted to stay with Daniel a while longer, but instead He took me back to the verses in Proverbs.

“Don’t lean,” He repeated.

I asked Him to read the Words from His Book to me. Somehow it’s different when He reads them.

“Diana,” His voice echoed through my heart, “Trust in Me with all your heart, do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Me and I will make your paths straight.”

“But Lord,” I began as I set off to explain how my paths were so difficult. “…and what about tomorrow’s path? It is shrouded in mists of uncertainty,” I finished.

“Don’t worry about tomorrow for today has enough trouble of its own,” He said.

Well that is true enough, I thought to myself as I nodded in agreement with His words from Matthew 6:34 and sat down at His feet where I decided to quiet my noisy heart and be still and listen to the Lord. I leaned in close so I wouldn’t miss anything. Here, have seat next to me. There’s plenty of room at the feet of Jesus and we can lean in and listen together.

“I never promised the path would be easy, convenient, free from pain, danger, benefit reductions, difficult goodbyes of friends, lions’ dens or even death. I promised I would make your paths straight, and so I have and will,” He finished.

“You have made my paths straight?” I asked a bit tentatively as I looked at the squiggly paths behind me and wondered if perhaps He was looking at someone else’s path other than mine.

Following my train of thought (there are no secrets from God, you know), He took my path-worn heart to Romans 8:28 and He asked me to read it out loud. Why don’t you read it too?

28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
Romans 8:28 (NIV)

He turned right around and headed back to Proverbs. My heart arrived there breathless as His voice thundered, shaking my soul awake,

“Do NOT lean on your own understanding. From your human eyes the paths appear crooked and out of control, but from my perspective, they are perfectly straight according to My sovereign will. Do NOT lean,” He repeated.

I thought about that. I hadn’t realized that I had been walking with a really bad lean lately.

I decided to turn His words into a prayer. Feel free to borrow it if you would like to.

“Father, I confess that I have been leaning on my own understanding. I have not been trusting in You with my whole heart, or acknowledging You in all my ways. I forgot that I was called according to YOUR purpose and I am not my own. You bought me with a price, the precious blood of Your only Son, Jesus. Thank you for Your great and glorious promises tucked into the words you shared with me today. You will make my paths straight and you will use it all for my good and Your glory. Like Daniel, help me to resolve to bow only to you – even if the path leads me to a den of lions. I love You! In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

What about you, my dear and precious friend? Do you feel caught up in a maze of twisty paths? Do you feel like Daniel, thrown to the lions and they are circling ever closer? Dear one, nothing can come to you that has not first past through the perfect loving will of your Heavenly Father. How are you doing in these things?

Are you Trusting in the Lord with all your heart?
Are you acknowledging Him in all your ways?
Are you leaning on your understanding or on His sovereignty?

Daniel was saved because He trusted in His God and the result was an entire kingdom turned to the Lord. Who is watching you and the way you are living as you walk the paths of your life today? So, dear one, trust Him, acknowledge Him and Do NOT lean on your own understanding.

An Original Conversation at the Well
By Diana Morgan
© Copyright October 26, 2011

ELOHIM

2011-08-05T10:39:00.000-07:00

14 Then God said, "Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night, and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days and years; 15 and let them be for lights in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth"; and it was so. 16 And God made the two great lights, the greater light to govern the day, and the lesser light to govern the night; He made the stars also. 17 And God placed them in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth, 18 and to govern the day and the night, and to separate the light from the darkness; and God saw that it was good.
Gen 1:14-18 (NASB77)

I love You Elohim. Creator of all I see, and don’t see, for the universe is vast and who can see its farthest corner but You, O glorious King. You stroll the pathway lit by stars, by Your hand they stay on course. Your very word caused the moon to glow and the sun to burst forth in bold light.

Your eyes see the ocean depths places yet unseen by human eyes. Nothing is hid from You. You speak and the ocean roars, its foam rising up in endless praise to the One Who gave it life.

O who am I that You who created the great expanse of the universe, would think of me before I took a breath. You wove me together in secret, and before anyone else was aware of me, You knew my name. The hands that formed the Milky Way, formed me. You saw all my days, and wrote them in Your book. You knew all my wanderings and even so, You called me and drew me back into Your glorious Presence. You chose me. You called me. You saved me. You restored me. You grow me. You provide for me. You love me.

There is something to be said about the glory of God and the heavens are busy declaring it. Shhhh…O heart, do you hear it? The day speaks wordless declarations of the One who gave its light. The King. Elohim. The night softly shares what it knows of mighty God as the world slumbers in its shadows. O soul, do you hear it? Even in dreams the stars and the moon are covering you with words about grace. Be still. Be still. Lean in and hear. Creation is speaking. It cannot be silent, yet not a word does it utter, and yet it continuously speaks of Him. Declaring God’s glory. God’s truth. God’s righteousness. God’s love.

O fall to your knees. Heart bow down and worship. His name is Elohim!

O how wonderful. How majestic are You my King. Creator. Elohim.

An original Conversation at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan 8-5-11

THE BOSS'S CHAIR

2011-07-20T10:35:00.000-07:00

God is seated on His holy throne. (Psalm 47:8 NIV)

I set my things down on my desk, and looked at the door leading into the next office. It was closed, the room behind it dark. There was no thumping of computer keys by sure fingers fashioning the outline notes for the weekend service. No “whish” of his golf club swinging as he pondered the week’s message or wrestled with current issues. No office banter. No sound of pages turning. No shout of “Good morning.” No funny puns. No request to go hunting for funny eyeballs to use as a visual aid in his lesson. No tales from Murdo or recollections from his days in Omaha. No talk of plans for the future. No meetings to schedule. No seeing him bent over his Bible and commentaries deep in study. No calendar to update. No request to call the help desk to solve the latest computer glitch. No familiar laugh. No sound at all; only deafening silence, reminding me that things were different. There was an unfamiliar emptiness and it caused my heart to ache.

I opened the door and stood surveying the room. The walls that once held family pictures now held empty nails. The place on the desk where his coffee cup always sat was empty. There were no doughnut holes waiting to be enjoyed as he began the day. I sat down in the “fancy” chair, as Pastor Bob called it, across from the desk where he had so diligently and faithfully worked for seven years.

My eyes settled on the empty desk chair and my heart cried out.

“Who is going to sit in that chair?”

“I AM.”

Startled, my heart looked up to find the One who is the same yesterday, today and forever, sitting in the chair.

“I didn’t want him to go,” I whispered, my heart breaking.

My heart studied His eyes as He gently said, “My disciples didn’t want me to go either when I had to go away. But if I hadn’t gone away from them, the Comforter could not come.”

I thought about that a moment and wondered what those men had felt and thought as their beloved friend and Teacher was about to leave them, disappearing from their sight in a cloud. I was quite certain had I been there I would have said, “Lord, I don’t want the Comforter. I want You.” Of course, on this side, it is clear that God’s plan was best. What would we do without the Holy Spirit dwelling in us?

Pastor Bob hadn’t been taken in a cloud, I had stood at the office window and watched as he disappeared from view in his little brown pickup, but it felt like a cloud. A cloud of uncertainty of what was next; not only for me and the church, but for him and Ruthie.

“I AM.”

His voice thundered through my soul, clearing the doubt clouds, and reminding me that He is on the throne. His plan cannot be thwarted. When He speaks, so it is. I could rest in Him. The same I AM that went with Moses was with Pastor Bob and Ruthie, and with me, and His church.

Turning my attention back to the chair, uncertainty washed over me once again. “Lord,” I said softly. “Everything feels so unsettled. I mean, before it was clear who I worked for. Pastor Bob sat in the very chair You are sitting in. And now…now, well, it’s empty.”

He took me to Colossians 3:23-24. I asked Him to read it to me. It’s always better when He speaks.

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know, that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”

His Words covered my heart like soothing balm. My boss was the Lord, and had been all along. That had not changed. I still missed my earthly boss and friend, but knowing the Lord was in charge eased my mind and comforted my hurting heart.

“Talk to Me,” He said. I bowed my head and talked to Him who knows all and holds everything together. I talked to Him about Bob and Ruthie, the Church as a whole, Southwest Community Church, the Leadership Team. And then, though it hurt a bit, I talked to Him about “next”. It’s not easy when your heart is breaking over the “now”. I prayed for the man who was out there being prepared to come here. I wondered if he had any idea that his world was about to be shaken up. I prayed about the “next” for Bob and Ruthie, and I chuckled a bit as I wondered if the people God was sending them to had any idea how they were about to be blessed. When I was done, I felt strangely helped. Talking to Him does that, you know. It wasn’t about me. It wasn’t even about Southwest Community Church. It was all about Him and His plan that He was working out. And it’s a plan too big for human hearts to fully grasp. But He has it all in hand, and that feels good to know.

I stood to return to my desk and begin the work day. I turned to thank Him for talking with me, but He had gone. I stood looking at the chair and a smile touched the corner of my lips as I realized He wasn’t gone, the Lord was head of the Church, and I could go about my tasks with confidence as to whom I was doing them for, knowing that the Lord is firmly seated in the Boss’s chair.

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan July 20, 2011

THE LIGHT IS ON

2011-06-18T18:29:00.000-07:00

THE LIGHT IS ON
You have placed our iniquities before You, our secret sins in the light of Your presence.
(Psalm 90:8 NASB)

Have you ever been trying to fall asleep but find yourself unable to do so as you realize someone has left a light on? I can relate.

It was late when I finally climbed into bed looking forward to a good night’s sleep. The minutes ticked by and still my eyes were open. I plumped my pillow, changed positions and lay back down. Nope. Still awake. It was then I realized the problem. Someone had left a light on.

But it wasn’t the hall light, or the bathroom light, or even the patio light that was keeping me awake. No, this was a different kind of light; an inside light. I recognized it and pulled the sheet over my head in an effort to hide, but it was no use. I could not hide as the third person of the Trinity shed the light of God’s Truth in my heart, revealing the ugly thing lurking there. Uggggh. I got up and headed down the hall, the Truth Light seeming to shine brighter as I made my way through the darkness.

I arrived at the big overstuffed chair in the living room which I referred to as the “Well” and sat down. I looked around at the familiar surroundings of my favorite meeting place with the Lord. I didn’t see Him, so decided to take a look at the thing that earlier in the day had seemed so small, and yet was causing a ruckus of the soul.

“Sin does that,” a familiar voice said.

Startled, my heart found itself standing in the light of His Presence. I was suddenly very aware of His holiness and my sin. Oh, I knew He had paid the penalty for my sin on the cross. All of them – even those I hadn’t committed yet. This was not a salvation issue. No, this was a relationship issue. Our normal fellowship was interrupted, sin was in the way. I knew what I needed to do.

“Tell Me,” He whispered softly in the stillness of night.

My heart broke at the sound of His voice. He always pursued me first. As I marveled at that reality, I knelt at His feet and told Him all about the words I had spoken earlier that day. Words I should not have said, but did. I knew the moment they left my lips that they were wrong, but I couldn’t take them back. They were out there. I had walked away from the three people I was talking to knowing I should correct what had just happened, but instead I buried the sin that had sprouted in my heart, trying to ignore it. But the Lord never ignores sin – EVER.

There on my knees, my heart dragged the sin out into the Light and I confessed it to Him. Then, true to His Word, He cleansed me.

My soul breathed in the sweet air of forgiveness as we sat together with nothing hindering our conversation. I sat quietly reveling in His presence when a thought entered my head, causing me to open my eyes and jerk to attention. My heart became restless under His steady gaze and I knew He had placed the thought there.

“Oh Lord. Please don’t ask me to do that,” I cried.

But it was no use. He was asking me to confess to the three I had said the words to and ask their forgiveness. Yikes!

He was not impressed with my many reasons for not revealing my sin to the three people. I finally fell silent and in the quiet words He had told James to write down came to mind, “Therefore, to one who knows the right thing to do and does not do it, to him it is sin.” (James 4:17)

Oh bother! I shuffled down the hall to bed where I tossed and turned until dawn.

I went running, but there was no running away from what God wanted me to do. As I ran past the lake Jonah came to mind, and I quickly glanced at the water half expecting a big fish to jump out and swallow me.

Returning home from my exercise routine, I carried my cell phone to the living room and sat down and called my husband. I was hoping he would tell me I was nuts and of course I didn’t need to tell the people involved. But he didn’t say that at all. Instead, he said out loud what the Lord had impressed on my heart to do. There was no getting around it now. To ignore it was to disobey God. Actually, I knew I had already disobeyed Him in my attempts to squirm out of doing what He clearly had said to do.

I knew I had run out of excuses. “Okay, Lord,” I said. “Help me to do this. Amen.”

I sat a moment, wanting to give God time to tell me He just wanted me to be willing and that I didn’t have to do it after all. But He didn’t.

I opened my cell phone and texted all three people and asked if they could meet me before the workday got started. One by one the replies came back that they would meet me. A short time later I headed off to work with sweaty palms. As I drove, I consoled myself with knowing that at least all three would be there at once so I could get it over with quickly.

The first person arrived, and we waited a few moments, but no one else came. Awkward! I took a deep breath, and confessed and asked forgiveness. Then the second person arrived. Are you kidding me?! Again, we waited but the third person did not come, and so I plowed ahead and for a second time, lay my sin out there, confessed it and asked forgiveness. No sooner had they left then the third person arrived. No way!! For a third time, I revealed my sin and confessed it and asked forgiveness. I am happy to say that all three graciously forgave me.

After they left, I leaned back in my chair and pondered what had just taken place. Three times!!!! Why was my heart so slow to obey? In that moment I thought of Peter denying Jesus three times, and then later, Jesus had restored Peter, asking him three times, “Peter, do you love Me?” It struck me full force then that in trying to minimize, rationalize, hide and ignore my sin, and then to hesitate in obeying Him, I was denying Him.

He took my broken heart to His Word then and we read together.

5 This is the message we have heard from Him and announce to you, that God is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all.6 If we say that we have fellowship with Him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth;7 but if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin.8 If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us.9 If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.10 If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar and His word is not in us.
1 John 1:5-10 (NASB)

I heard my Savior’s voice in the stillness ask, “Diana, do you love Me?” Tears came as I said, “Lord, I love you.” I thought about the Light that had stirred me to wakefulness, and I was filled with thanks as I added, “And Lord?”

“Hmmm?” He replied.

“Thank You for keeping the Light on.”

My friend how is your relationship with the Lord? Have you felt there is something in the way? Does He feel distant? Has the Holy Spirit turned on the floodlight of Truth and you are losing sleep? Is there a ruckus of the soul going on in you? Is there something you need to deal with? Some sin you have buried in a corner of your heart. Are you telling yourself that it’s so small that it doesn’t matter? Is the Light keeping you awake? Don’t wait another moment. Drag it out. Take it to Him. Confess it. If you know Him, it’s not a salvation issue, but it is a relationship issue. He is faithful and will cleanse you from all unrighteousness.

Then ask the Lord to show you if there is someone you need to go to and confess your sin to and ask their forgiveness? Don’t pull a “Diana”. Go and take care of it. The Lord will go with you. He will give you the strength and the courage and the words to do what is right.

An Original Conversations at the Well
Copyright by Diana Morgan
June 18, 2011

Let’s end our time by reading the wonderful words found in the hymn Come Thou Fount.

1 Come, thou Fount of every blessing,
tune my heart to sing thy grace;
streams of mercy, never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
mount of thy redeeming love.

2. Here I raise mine Ebenezer;
hither by thy help I'm come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood.

3. O to grace how great a debtor
daily I'm constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here's my heart, O take and seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.

BIRDS NESTS AND TREASURE

2011-05-20T12:09:00.000-07:00

…search for it as for hidden treasure… (Proverbs 2:4 NIV)

Your Word I have treasured in my heart… (Psalm 119:11 NASB)

I hurried to the Well, my heart soaring, my earth feet barely touching the ground. I was breathless when I arrived. I spotted Him watching Lesser Gold Finches. They were hanging from the sides of the birdfeeders enjoying their breakfast. Spotting me, they darted into a nearby mesquite tree, adorning its branches like tiny flecks of lights.

“Lord,” I said excitedly, the words overflowing as if someone had left a faucet on someplace deep inside me. I laughed and cried all at once as I shared the news with the One my soul loves. “Lord, my Elizabeth is engaged. Mike asked her to be his very own. And wait till you hear how he proposed to my precious daughter!” I barely took a breath as I told Him the story.

“Mike and Elizabeth were in Big Sur hiking. Mike, knowing Elizabeth’s great affection for all things feathered, hid a bird’s nest in a bush. He called her back to where he stood next to the bush as he excitedly told her that he had found a nest. Elizabeth peered into the shrubbery, spied the nest, but believing it to be a fake; turned to continue on her way up the trail. But Mike urged her to stop and take a closer look. Elizabeth leaned in and carefully lifted the nest from its hiding place, and looking closely, caught her breath. She had found treasure!

“She looked at Mike, trying to take in what her eyes saw. She returned her gaze to the nest, and gently lifted the ring from its home of twigs. In that moment, Mike knelt down and asked her to be forever his. And she said yes! I think it is the best proposal ever; even better than Mr. Darcy’s proposal in Pride and Prejudice.” I fell silent as He whom my heart loves invited me to join Him in a corner of the garden.

I sat down at His feet, and we were quiet for a time as a brilliant yellow butterfly danced on flower petals nearby. My thoughts drifted back to Mike and Elizabeth’s engagement and how she had been so intent on the hike that she had nearly missed the treasure. My heart looked up into the eyes of the One who laid down His life for me, and I caught my breath as I realized how once I too had been hiking up life’s trail. I was lost, but then He found me and invited me to be His forever. In His Presence, I discovered treasure: Forgiveness of sin, eternal life, a relationship with God through Jesus.

Knowing my thoughts, He led me gently to His word and I asked Him to tell me what it said—that’s the best way to study His word. His voice sounded like rushing water as He spoke, “For God so loved the world, that he gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” (John 3:16 NASB)

“Lord, I take it back,” I whispered. “What?” He asked. “Yours is the best proposal I have ever heard. Help me to share it with everyone. Help me to be like Mike, and call others to come and look into Your word, and as they do, may they too discover the treasure of knowing You—of belonging to You.”

We sat in the morning stillness for a time and then I said, “Lord, teach me to slow down and take time with You in Your word. It is so easy to get busy out there on life’s trails that I inhale bits of Scripture as if from a spiritual canteen, never even breaking stride. Help me to stop and even at times lay down in the very streams of life giving water, emerged in it, drenched through. Then help me carry it out to a thirsty world.”

“I will,” He said. “I will.”

Then I walked into the day carrying in my heart, treasure.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves… (2 Corinthians 4:7 NASB)

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright by Diana Morgan, May 20, 2011

THE RESURRECTION

2011-04-21T06:36:00.001-07:00

THE RESURRECTION

“On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood behind them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; He has risen!’” (Luke 24:1-6)
When I was little, my mom would read this account of the resurrection and I recall wondering how many angels it took to move that big boulder enough to let Jesus out. I now know that Jesus was not "let" out. I envision Jesus dead, lying in the tomb and then at just the right moment He sat up. He had risen. In that moment, as death was defeated, I imagine the sound that erupted from the tomb was deafening as the very power of God was unleashed and that which was immovable, the boulder, rolled away from the entrance. If death could not defeat the LORD then a mere boulder could not keep Him in the tomb. GLORY!!
My marriage was once dead. It lay in a tomb and a large boulder had been placed over it. People even told me that I was lost; I'd never survive what I had done. My husband and I stand today as living testaments to the power of our RISEN LORD. When Jesus met me that evening of December 18, 1999, He walked into the tomb where my marriage lay and He breathed life into that which was dead then He spoke and the power of God was unleashed and that which was dead sat up and the boulder could not help but roll away. My husband and I walked out of the tomb together; our marriage, our very lives, restored through Jesus Christ.
There have been times when I have struggled with the memory of what I had done and I hurry to visit the tomb where my dead marriage once lay. I arrive at the tomb breathless and as I bend down and peer inside the Lord asks me, "Why do you look for the living among the dead?" The tomb is empty. Hallelujah!!
As we celebrate the resurrection of our Lord I challenge you to look at your own life. Go and visit the tomb where your old self used to lay bound in burial cloths. As you peer into the tomb where your old self used to lie, be still. Do you hear Him? His voice thunders across your soul as He asks, "Why do you look for the living among the dead?"
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ Jesus he is a new creation. Behold, the old is gone, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

An Original Conversation at the Well
© Copyright By Diana Morgan 8-31-2009

DAWN

2011-04-10T07:46:00.000-07:00

DAWN “So we have the prophetic word made more sure, to which you do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star arises in your hearts.” (2 Peter 1:19 NASB) Driving through the desert night No hint of light I see. Yet even darkness tells my heart Of God’s great love for me. Majestic Arizona mountains Stretching to the sky, Morning star lights the way Whispers to a still dark world Dawn is on its way. In the east an unseen hand Paints shades of purple, pink and blue. Another way He whispers Of His love for me and you. Saguaro’s in shadowed stillness stand Arms stretched outward as they wait. Quiet giants of desert land Stand guard at a new day’s gate. Morning star sits above desert peaks Rising from the desert floor Darkness surrounding, their red hues hide, Still through shadows His thundering voice speaks Of a new day, on dawns wings shall ride. Then what joy fills my heart In the east my earth eyes see Out of darkness the sun does rise A new day awakes in glory. The light runs down the desert peaks, Night’s shadows quickly gone. Just as He has promised All things made new in the glorious light of dawn. My heart takes flight in joyous song Pen to paper all my thoughts to write For the bright and Morning Star Lord Jesus, will soon cast away the night. He’ll come with shout of victory Amidst the trumpet song Those whose hearts belong to Him, Will rejoice with the coming of Heaven’s Dawn. An Original Conversations at the Well Poem © Copyright by Diana Morgan, April 10, 2011

THE FRAGRANT KINGDOM

2011-04-08T07:46:00.000-07:00

THE FRAGRANT KINGDOM “But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of Him ( 2 Corinthians 2:14).” Mary was the third of eight children, and from the time she could remember she was in the kitchen with her mother learning how to cook. Her mother would tell her Bible stories as they worked; the kitchen became a special place in Mary’s life. She had a true servant’s heart and was known for taking homemade soup to give comfort to a sick neighbor, or add joy to someone’s day with a plate of freshly baked cookies. Mary’s mother also instilled in her the love of sitting quietly at the Lord’s feet every day. One of her dearest memories was of one early morning before daylight had crept into the sky, when she had tiptoed downstairs intending to make her mother a cup of her favorite tea and take it to her in bed. But when she got downstairs she saw the soft glow of a light coming from under the door of the study, and when she peered in she saw her mother with her Bible opened, writing in a notebook. As she watched, she saw her mother close her eyes, and it seemed to Mary she sat there an awfully long time, and so her impatient child’s heart decided it had been long enough and she walked up to her mother and inserted herself onto her lap, and took her face into her hands and asked, “Mama, what are you doing?” She would never forget that conversation. Her mother wrapped her arms around Mary and whispered into her ear, “Dear heart, I am having a conversation with God.” Mary was astonished as she replied, “But Mama, your lips weren’t even moving!” Her mother laughed, and then explained that her lips didn’t need to move because God saw her heart and knew her thoughts. Mary thought a moment and then asked, “Does God talk to you?” Her mother turned Mary’s face toward her and she looked straight into her eyes as she whispered, “Oh, yes Mary. Yes, God talks to me.” Mary looked very serious as she declared, “Mama, I want to talk to God, too.” So there in the soft lamp light, her mother told her about the greatest gift ever given and how Mary could accept that gift into her own heart. When she had finished, she asked Mary if she would like to accept the gift of Jesus, and without hesitation she said, “Yes, mama, yes I want Jesus in my heart.” As the sky began to wake from her slumber, and with the bright morning star peering in through the window, mother and daughter knelt in the stillness and a child asked for forgiveness of her sins and invited Jesus to come into her heart. They sat on the floor together, faces turned toward the window as they watched the sky changing colors moment by moment, as though uncertain what shade to wear that day; and in the stillness Mary’s little girl voice whispered, “Good morning, God. I’m listening.” Those words sank into Mary’s being, and she spoke them to her Lord every morning after that. That very afternoon, Mary returned from school to find a beautifully wrapped box on her bed with a note from her mother. She quickly tore open the wrapping and squealed with delight as she discovered a new Bible, a journal, a sketch pad and a large box of crayons of her very own. As she sat surveying her new treasures, the fragrant aroma of fresh baked bread drifted under the door of Mary’s room, and tearing out an 11x17 sheet of paper she set about drawing a picture that portrayed a dream that was tucked into a corner of her heart. A dream placed there by the Master-weaver Himself. You see, Mary had embarked on a new journey; by far the most rewarding, the most treasured – the life-long journey of knowing God with every fiber of her being. As she drew, she had no idea the threads that were being woven together that would bind her heart and touch the lives of so many. As she grew so did her love for the Lord. Her gift for cooking grew as well, and she never tired of trying new recipes and filling the house with fragrant spices. Her dream was to open a bakery after graduation. She even knew what she would call it: The Daily Bread. So many nights she sat up writing out the plans in her journal to make her dream a reality; and then she would pray over them; pray for the bakery that didn’t yet exist, and give it all to the Lord. All the while the Master Weaver continued unseen, weaving the threads in Mary’s heart. When she was in her last semester of school, her older brother Stan who was in his last year of medical school brought his best friend Benjamin home for the Christmas holiday. Benjamin was older and already in his last year of residency. The smell of rising cinnamon rolls drew the young men straight to the kitchen when they arrived. After the introductions, Benjamin sat on a kitchen stool near Mary and never left. They were married the following autumn. They bought a home in a wonderfully picturesque town. It was a lovely old two-story colonial nestled on the edge of a wooded area. Mary loved their home, and her favorite room was the huge kitchen. But of course she would not be able to spend as much time there once her bakery opened. A few months later, The Daily Bread opened for business. The sign read, “The Daily Bread – food for body and soul.” Mary’s bakery was unique; in addition to offering a wide array of baked goods, gourmet coffees and teas, she also offered homemade soups and comfortable chairs, surrounded by book-lined shelves displaying books by many of her favorite Christian authors. It did not take long for word to get out and soon the bakery was packed every day with hungry patrons. Three years after the bakery opened, on a particularly cold November afternoon, Mary stood watching the customers. Some were reading, others were in deep conversation, but it seemed to her that something wasn’t quite right. It was nothing she could put her finger on; just a nagging sense that something important was missing. It was just then that there was a bit of commotion over by the side entrance and she went to see what was happening. A dirty and ragged man, whose age it was impossible to tell, had apparently sought refuge from the cold wind in a booth located at the back corner of the bakery, and four male customers were attempting to make him leave. Mary was stunned as she heard one of them telling this poor man in no uncertain terms that he was not welcome here, and there was no room for his kind in this establishment; it was for decent people; and they finished by telling him he should get a bath and a job. “Please, God, help me know what to do,” Mary prayed quietly. Suddenly she heard His voice as clear as day, “Mary, what you do for the least of these brothers of mine, you do for me.” As Jesus’ words poured through her heart, clarity washed over her mind and she sprang into action. Mary stepped up to where the man was cowering in the corner and with a smile she said, “Sir, I have a table right over here for you.” He looked bewildered and scared, as the men stood not believing what she was doing. “Well, if he’s staying, we are leaving,” the three men all nodded in agreement with their friend. Mary did not give their remark the honor of a reply. Instead she extended her hand to this cold and hungry soul, and he reached out and took it; and she led him not to the corner booth, but to one of the best tables next to the fireplace. She got him settled in, headed to the kitchen, and a few moments later returned to find Benjamin having a chat with him. She smiled at her husband, and he winked at her as she set a steaming bowl of vegetable soup, fresh baked sourdough bread, a glass of milk, and a cup of her best coffee on the table and headed back to the kitchen to bring food to her husband as well. When she returned with the food she sat down next to her husband, surprised to find them talking, and on a first-name basis. Benjamin was amazing. He was the most humble and unassuming man she had ever met, and she watched amazed as he drew this man, Andy, into conversation. It wasn’t long before they knew Andy’s entire story, and then Benjamin turned that conversation toward God. As she listened it became apparent that Andy’s hunger was more than a physical hunger; it was deep…soul deep. Mary listened as Benjamin told him about Jesus, and before the end of the meal the two men were on their knees, and Andy prayed and surrendered his life to God. It was 1:45AM as the three of them stood at the door of the bakery; Mary’s curiosity got the better of her, and as Andy was leaving she asked how he had come to be at the bakery that day. He smiled, unaware of the bomb he was about to drop in the middle of Mary’s well-ordered life as he said, “Oh, we can smell the food from this bakery three blocks away at the abandoned warehouse where we stay. There’s not a single person there the smell of your food has not touched, so today I just had to come and see for myself.” Benjamin and Mary’s eyes locked, both thinking the same thing at once, and they made a beeline for home. Mary went to the kitchen to make coffee, while Benjamin went to the bedroom to find Mary’s picture. They had intended to hang the picture, but busyness had interfered and so they had put it on the shelf in the bedroom closet. He turned on the closet light and carefully took the picture off the shelf that his beloved Mary had drawn at the age of seven, and headed to the kitchen. Benjamin walked into the kitchen where Mary sat at the table, eyes closed and head bowed as was her habit, and he heard her as she quietly whispered, “Good morning, God; I’m listening.” He waited until she opened her eyes, and then set the wrapped picture on the table in front of her. He poured two coffees and set them down, and took a seat next to her. She picked up the cup of hot coffee in one hand, the aroma of cinnamon and vanilla adding warmth to the chill of the morning air, and with the other she gently unfolded the gold tissue paper faded with years, revealing a framed 11x17 picture drawn with crayon on brown sketch paper, the edges beginning to yellow with time. Benjamin reached over and took hold of her hand as they studied the scene together. Across the top of the page, a strip of crystal blue sky; and below it stood a castle on a field of green, with flowers scattered about in every color. Standing in front of the castle was a king, and by his side a lovely queen; above them written in royal blue crayon on the side of the castle were the words “Daily Bread”. In the queen’s arms was a basket filled with bread and rolls, which were still hot from the oven as ribbons of steam rose from the basket. And across the bottom in red crayon was written… “The aroma of the food caught a ride on the steam ribbons and swirled, twirled, and danced across the grassy countryside until every person in the kingdom was touched by the fragrant aroma.” Thoughtful silence filled the room and finally Benjamin took Mary’s hand, and they knelt in the middle of the kitchen and together they talked with God about all that had happened, and asked Him for guidance and to make clear if He wanted them to do something more, and to especially keep their hearts tender toward Him: fully devoted to be poured out for His purpose, whatever it might be and wherever it might lead them. They went to bed then, feeling as though they were standing in the middle between a world of dreams and a world of radical faith, and the two were about to collide. A few hours later Mary pulled into her parking spot at the Bakery, got out and walked around to the front, but what she saw stopped her in her tracks. There was Andy standing at the door and with him about 70 homeless friends. “Okay, God, I see,” she said taking out her cell phone to call Benjamin. But just as she began to dial his number, he pulled up to the curb and leapt from his truck. “Mary!” he cried, but then seeing the crowd huddled around the entrance to the bakery, he stopped and began laughing. “Looks like God has spoken pretty clearly, don’t you think?” Mary asked her still laughing husband. “Wait till you see what He just showed me, Mary.” Benjamin went over and explained to Andy where he was taking Mary, and that they would be back in a few minutes. Benjamin put a blindfold over Mary’s eyes, and then drove just three blocks over and stopped the truck and helped Mary out, and then removed the blindfold. Mary stood there, unable to speak as tears filled her eyes. She stood on a field and before her was the abandoned warehouse… or as she knew it best, the castle. Several months later on a clear spring day, the little bakery on the quiet street is full of hungry customers; and as they stand at the counter ordering, they are welcomed by the manager: a smiling, middle-aged man named Andy. And just three blocks away, where once stood an abandoned warehouse filled with abandoned people, there stands a castle and on its side is written in large blue letters, “The Daily Bread, Food for Body and Soul”. It is a place for those who are cast aside by the world as unwanted and unloved, to find a future and a hope. They learn that they are valued, and are taught how to care for themselves. They learn how to work in the garden and in the bakery, and when they are ready, get on-the-job training at the Daily Bread downtown. But most importantly they learn about God and His love, and about His Son Jesus, and how He makes the old new and the broken whole. Inside the walls are beds and showers, a dining hall, a medical clinic, and a chapel. There is also a library with comfortable places to sit, and shelves of books by Mary’s favorite authors, and a big fireplace-- and over the mantle in an 11x17 frame, hangs a crayon drawing of a dream once tucked quietly in the corner of a young girl’s heart; a heart devoted to God, Who with unseen hands wove her life into a beautiful tapestry, binding it with His love, and all through it run the threads of His glory. And in the Castle’s kitchen you will find Mary, talking about God and His Son Jesus as she teaches men, women and children how to cook. And oh, the fragrance of that place; the aroma of Jesus Christ at work in human hearts rises up and swirls, twirls and dances across the grassy countryside, until every person in the kingdom is touched by the fragrant aroma. Dear one, has God placed a dream in your heart? He has gifted you for a specific purpose. Ephesians 2:10 says this: “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Why don’t you have a conversation with the Lord about your dream? AN ORIGINAL CONVERSATIONS AT THE WELL BY DIANA MORGAN COPYRIGHT AUGUST 2009

HOSPITALITY ON THE GO

2011-03-29T09:04:00.001-07:00

PART THREE

HOSPITALITY ON THE GO

Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. (1 Peter 4:9 NIV)

Have you ever known someone with the gift of hospitality? They are the first to invite the new neighbors for dinner. They are always hosting showers or luncheons or small group gatherings.

When I hear the word hospitality, I think of my sister Linda. Her home is warm and inviting. There is something about the very atmosphere that smoothes away the cares of the day and soothes weary bones and harried hearts. I always thought her gift and her home were inseparable – until James.

Linda knelt next to James. She spoke soothing words to him. I studied my sister’s eyes. They were filled with deep compassion as she continued speaking to James. It was as if I peered into my sister’s heart and the doors opened wide to welcome James.

It was there, along the road, under a vast canopy of stars, I realized that the gift of hospitality God had so richly blessed my sister with was not bound by walls or contained under a roof. Nor was it reserved for the clean, the eloquent of speech or the well dressed – it was for anyone God placed in her path. The gift was skillfully woven into the very fabric of her heart by God Himself, and it went wherever she did.

Let’s stop at Roman’s 12:6-8. What gift has God given you? How has God used your gift to minister to someone else? Your gift is not meant to be hidden on a shelf at home. It is meant to go wherever you go, always ready to be poured out for the benefit of others and God’s glory. It is a gift on the go.

An original Conversations at the Well

IN NEED'S SHADOW

2011-03-21T06:39:00.000-07:00

WEEK TWO
IN NEEDS SHADOW
As evening approached, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a remote place, and it’s already getting late. Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.” Jesus replied, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.”
Matthew 14:15-16 (NIV)

We learned the injured man’s name was James. He had a number of wounds on his face, arms and hands, and was bleeding. He was unable to tell us what had happened or how he had come to be lying in the road. My hands were empty, I had nothing to offer; I couldn’t “fix” him. I suddenly felt very small standing in the shadow of James’ need.

The disciples must have felt so inadequate as they stood in the shadow of need cast by five thousand hungry people. The disciples thought it would be best to send the crowd to the nearby villages to buy food. But Jesus had told them to feed them. The disciples stood looking down at the little they had: five loaves of bread and two fish. What good could so little do against such great need?

They placed the little they had into Jesus’ hands. The little turned into more than enough to meet the hunger of five thousand people, with twelve baskets left over.

“I’m thirsty,” James said softly. I hurried to the car and found a bottle of water tucked in the front seat. “It’s not much,” I muttered under my breath as I made my way back to James. Suddenly, I was aware of His sweet Presence going with me, and decided to place the little I had into His hands – you know the ones with dark scars in the center. As I knelt next to James and watched him drink the water, I saw a little give relief to a great thirst.

My friend, don’t let needs shadow paralyze you. Instead, take the little you have, place it in His hands, and leave the results to Him. Glory!

An Original Conversations at the Well
Copyright by Diana Morgan March 21, 2011

DWELLING PLACE

2011-03-19T08:46:00.000-07:00

DWELLING PLACE

I love the Word of God. When the Lord and I sit down together to spend time in His Word, the words seem to dance off the pages and into my heart, and weave themselves into the fabric of my very life like golden Word threads.

This morning I sat at the Well, my head bent over Psalm 27. The Lord sat so very near me as we read His Book together. His breath stirred the page, causing the words to rise up and enter into my heart. The words were these: "One thing I have asked from the LORD, that I shall seek: That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD and to meditate in His temple” (Psalm 27:4 NASB).

Hmmm...“That I may dwell in the house of the Lord...” I closed my eyes and could picture myself walking, suitcase in hand, visiting houses. Occasionally, I would see a house that looked inviting. I carried my suitcase through the front door and stayed for a time, but didn't unpack.

But one day I met the Lord and He invited me in to relationship with Him. I entered in with wide-eyed wonder. He welcomed me with open arms. I carried my suitcase inside, you know, the heavy one with all the things the world says I need to make it through; so many different things to put on in order to make me acceptable; to fit in. He invites me to allow Him to take the heavy load I am carrying, and come and rest awhile. I place the suitcase in His hands, noting the scars.

He leads me along. There is so much to see; so much to take in. A house tells so much about the Master of it: their interests; what matters to them. We come into a room that is both spacious and yet so very intimate. I catch my breath at the beauty – there’s something about the light. A stream runs right through the room; the water seeming to dance joyfully as the light touches it. He invites me to sit awhile.

I notice a book; it turns out He is the author. He smiles and brings with Him a cup filled with water from the stream and places it in my hands as He opens the book – His book and sits down next to me. I sip the water as He speaks His Words to me; I am strangely refreshed. The water and His Word seem to pour into my very heart, and then I realize that His Presence has surrounded me; His Words giving me life and I find myself kicking off my shoes, and nestling into His Presence; to dwell there—I am home.

My friend, are you lugging a heavy suitcase around with you? The one filled with all the ways you have to make sense of life? There is only One who can do that; and He is the Author of life. Do you want to know Him? You can right now, right where you are.

Romans 10:9 says, “If you confess with your mouth Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 6:23.

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” John 3:16

God is inviting you into a relationship with Him, through His Son, Jesus. You can talk to Him right now. Lord Jesus, thank you for dying on the cross to pay for my sins. Please forgive my sins and come into my heart. I give you my life. Amen.

Could it be that you know Jesus, but you are still running place to place, lugging that heavy suitcase filled with “religious” ideas and “how to” that you can’t even begin to live out. Have you lost sight that knowing Him is all about relationship with Him?

Look at Jesus' words to believers in Revelation 3:20.
20 “Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends (Rev 3:20 NLT).

Your heart looks up at the sound of a familiar voice. You realize it has been a long time since you were still enough to really listen to Him. You walk the path to His door. You needn’t have worried about finding Him, He’s right there waiting – as if He has been expecting you.

He welcomes you and offers to take the heavy load off your hands. You surrender all you have been carrying into His hands as He leads you to a place of great beauty, where streams of living water flow freely. His Book is nearby; you blow the dust off the cover, the pages make that wonderful sound as you open wide His Truth.

He hands you a cup of water, as He sits next to you. His breath stirs the pages and His Presence surrounds you, covers you and His Word and Living Water fill you and refresh you. You look up into the eyes of the One who gave all for you and you realize you are dwelling in His Presence – you are home.

An Original Conversations at the Well
©Diana Morgan March 19, 2011

DETOURS OF COMPASSION

2011-03-14T06:39:00.000-07:00

WEEK ONE
DETOURS OF COMPASSION

But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was and when he saw him, he took pity on him. Luke 10:33 (NIV)

Have you ever been so tired you couldn’t even see straight? All you want is to get home, climb into your comfy bed, snuggle down deep into the covers, close your eyes and drift into an undisturbed sleep. One minute you are headed toward the land of dreams, the next you are caught off guard by a detour sign. You have a choice to make: ignore the sign and keep going, or obey it, and go where you are being sent.

I yawned as my sister Linda maneuvered the car down the winding road. We had spent the day at a conference where we had heard wonderful speakers talk about God’s grace. We were literally minutes away from Linda’s house. I couldn’t wait to fall into bed and ponder all the things I’d learned that day as I drifted off to sleep. I sat quietly making my “end of the day plans” when it happened. We rounded a sharp curve and there they were: two men in the road.

The headlights pierced the darkness, revealing the scene to our now alert eyes. One man lay on his back; the other man knelt at the fallen man’s side. My sister swerved to the right while slamming on the brakes, the car screeched to a halt at the side of the road. Linda hurried to the scene to find out what had happened while I looked for a flashlight. She was back in a moment, cell phone in hand, trying to get a signal to call 911.

My heart ran breathless to talk to the Lord about it – He is never out of range. He was there waiting for me. I had just begun telling him about the men in the road when a car came flying down the hill. The driver appeared not to see the men as he sped toward them, but at the last moment, the car swerved to the left, narrowly missing the two men as the driver sped on his way without so much as a tap of his brakes.

My dear friend, travel with me to Luke 10:33 where we meet the Good Samaritan. Notice he wasn’t sitting at the side of the road waiting for the injured man to show up. He didn’t have it penciled into his day. He was traveling, going about his business when he came upon the man in the road. Others had come by and had simply gone around, but this man was filled with compassion and stopped.

What about you? How will you respond to the “detours of compassion” the Lord places in your day? Will you stop and follow Him or will you speed past without so much as a tap to the brake of your daily routine.

This would be a great time to stop and talk with the Lord about it.

IN THE SHADOW OF THE SHELTERING ROCK

2011-03-06T13:29:00.000-08:00

“Let me dwell in thy most secret place, under thy shadow.”
The Valley of Vision – A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions

Have you ever been afraid? Have you faced something you didn’t want to face and felt you were facing it alone? Did you want to run and hide? I understand.

“Mrs. Morgan,” the woman said as she glanced at the chart in her hand and then looked my direction with a smile. I stood, looking pleadingly at my husband to somehow rescue me. He looked sympathetically into my eyes as he said, “I’ll be right here waiting for you.” He smiled, trying to look reassuring. I knew he would be here waiting, but he couldn’t go through it for me, or even with me. There was nothing to be done about it; I had to go through it. I followed the woman through the door and it closed behind us with a decided click, and I suddenly felt so very alone.

Moments later found me lying in a rather awkward position, the oral surgeon giving me the first of several injections as he went over the details of the surgery one more time. He checked my heart rate and blood pressure for the third time since he’d given the last of the injections, and then the surgery began.

My right hand was gripping the wrist of my left hand so tightly that my fingers began to go numb and my heart beat wildly. The surgeon had been hard at work for over an hour when he asked for yet another picture to be taken of the area. Was that seven or eight pictures, I had lost count. “Let’s get a biopsy of that tissue right there,” the surgeon said. My thoughts quickly picked up the surgeon’s words and began running wildly about. Not wanting to miss an opportunity, my imagination grabbed the thoughts until fear grew within me.

“Let’s remove that area of bone, right there,” the surgeon said. It felt to me as if a crew armed with jackhammers had set to work in my mouth. My heart collapsed in a helpless heap, allowing imagination and fear to take over.

Suddenly, a song rose up in the midst of my clamoring thoughts.

“I AM your hiding place. I will fill your heart with songs of deliverance whenever you are afraid; put your trust in Me.”

The song became louder. My heart listened, daring to peer out from the corner where fear thoughts had driven it. The song rose, strength in every note until my heart sat up, looking around for the source of the song. That’s when I saw it; a towering Rock, and a Shadow coming from it.

Movement caught my heart’s eye as imagination with fear in tow came rushing toward me to knock my heart to the dust. Without hesitation, my heart ran to the Rock and dove beneath it, straight into the Shadow. Immediately, the Shadow surrounded me. I realized then that I wasn’t alone at all. Jesus, the Rock was ever-present there in the midst of what I was going through. What’s more, I couldn’t hear imagination’s fear thoughts from the Rock’s Shadow, only the song which had grown sweeter and my heart joined in and sang and sang there in the Sheltering Shadow of the Rock.

Later, after I got home, I sat quietly at the Well, holding an icepack over my jaw. Him whom my heart loves was there sitting quietly with me. We sat together studying online about a woman’s walk in His grace with some friends of His and mine. It was a sweet time sharing about His grace.

The online study came to a close and I thought about His grace. It was His grace that allowed my heart to rest in His sheltering shadow. I was never alone. Never. My heart moved in closer to Him, and my soul sat in the Rock’s sheltering Shadow and then He took me to some places in His Word that He had marked with His heavenly hi-lighter. Places just right for a weary child of His to sit awhile with Him.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
(Psalm 91:1 NASB)

For who is God, but the LORD? And who is a rock, except our God…
(Psalm 18:31 NASB)

My heart began to sing, though my lips and my jaw were too swollen to join in.

“You are my hiding place. You always fill my heart with songs of deliverance, whenever I am afraid, I will trust in You.”

My body was weary from the surgery, my eyes grew heavy, and my heart nestled down and I slept there in the Shadow of the Sheltering Rock.

You are my hiding place; You preserve me from trouble; You surround me with songs of deliverance (Psalm 32:7 NASB).

Beloved, what are you facing? Is it a hard thing; a thing no one can go through for you? If you know Jesus, then you are not alone. Don’t allow Satan to deceive your heart. Run to the Rock. There, your heart will find shelter, and a song. A song of deliverance, sung over you by the Deliverer Himself. Almighty God.

Glory!

An Original Conversations at the Well
© by Diana Morgan March 6, 2011

GOOD GIFTS

2011-02-25T11:57:00.000-08:00

GOOD GIFTS
Have you ever looked forward to giving a loved one a gift? It begins with a thought, and then you go shopping. You may not know what the gift will be but you know it when you spot it. There it is, tucked among all the other items, the perfect gift. You know this person inside and out. There is no doubt in your mind that this is just the gift for them.

You buy it and hurry home with your treasure. You take your time wrapping it, all the while thinking of the one your heart loves, the one the gift is meant for.

You call them up and invite them to meet you. The time arrives, and with gift in hand you head out, your heart filled with anticipation. You arrive at the place you chose to meet. Your eyes scan the room, and then a smile touches your lips as you find them sitting at a corner table, sipping their favorite coffee. You head to the table filled with joy. There is something quite delicious in knowing a secret; of bearing a gift that is about to delight someone near and dear to your heart.

The moment arrives. You can hardly stand it as you take the gift from its hiding place, and set it before them. For a brief moment there is silence as their eyes take in the beautifully wrapped package sitting in front of them. They lift their gaze to yours, question marks in their eyes, but the love dancing in your eyes quickly assures them that the gift is for them.

They reach out and begin to unwrap it. They catch their breath as what was unknown to them becomes known. There is no need to ask if they like it as tears of joy spill down their cheeks and they fly into your waiting embrace. In that moment, your heart rejoices in the giving of a good gift.

Do you know that God rejoices in giving those who love Him good gifts? It’s true! My friend, wipe the Monday morning sleep from your eyes, pour your favorite coffee or tea, and kick off your shoes right there at your desk and nestle into the Lord’s presence. Oh, and don’t forget to have His Book nearby as we will be taking a walk with Him in His Word.

A soft breeze stirred the brush nearby as I took a seat on a large boulder and looked out at the mountains as they stretched high before me. It was a clear January morning, and a wintery crispness was in the air. I had looked forward to this hike in the foothills for days, and now here I was at last.

Life had been so busy and it seemed ages since I had been off on my own. I looked around, not a soul in sight. I was alone. I looked out at the valley below on one side and then over at the towering peaks on the other. It was glorious. There is something about solitude that revives my spirit, and nourishes my soul. I was reminded of Jesus’ invitation to His weary disciples, “Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest awhile.” (Mark 6:31 NASB)

I opened my backpack and took out my Bible, journal and pen. There in the stillness, my soul made its way down a familiar dusty path, to the well and sat down with Him who is my heart’s longing.

“Hello,” He said.

“Hello,” I replied.

“I see you got My invitation,” He said, peering over my shoulder at the place I was reading in Mark 6:31.

I moved in closer to Him as I whispered, “Thank You for asking me to come away with You.” I breathed deeply as my eyes took in the rugged beauty that surrounded me. “Lord, I’m so glad you chose this place for us to meet in today. This is lovely.” I drew near to Him then, and just as He promised, He drew near to me.

Then He took my heart with Him into His Word and we stopped and lingered awhile. Why don’t you join us?

41 I will rejoice in doing them good and will assuredly plant them in this land with all my heart and soul. Jeremiah 32:41 (NIV)

How great is Your goodness, which You have stored up for those who fear You.
(Psalm 31:19 NASB)

I sat quietly thinking about His goodness. “Lord, it says here that you store up Your goodness for those who fear you.” I looked up at the great mountains and then at the sky colored a deep blue and thought about His goodness and wondered what kind of storage unit could possibly contain it. That’s when I heard it.

Clip clop. Clip clip clop. Clop. Clop. Clop.

It sounded as if someone was trekking about the mountainside in high heels. My gaze followed the sound. Then movement caught my eye and I caught my breath. A Big Horn sheep stood on the mountainside. His great horns curled around. He lifted his gaze and looked in my direction, his head raised majestically. Then more movement as a female sheep leapt gracefully over a boulder and headed ever higher. More movement as the mountainside came alive. One, two, three, four, five, six, SEVEN. “Lord,” I cried. “I have lived in the desert 33 years and I have never seen Big Horn sheep in the wild. Thank You! Thank You!”

We sat in companionable silence watching power and grace in motion. My heart turned toward Him who gave all for me, and it occurred to me that He had planned this moment, this gift for me. He knew those things that refreshed me, gave me joy, inspired and refreshed this heart within me – His daughter. He had knit me together after all.

It occurred to me that He had gone through a lot of trouble for me. He sent me the invitation in Mark 6:31. He had arranged the meeting place, here at the feet of His glorious snow-covered mountains, and He had brought a gift, which He tucked into the mountainside for me to unwrap at just the right moment; a gift from His heavenly storehouse. David’s words flooded my thoughts, “How great is Your goodness…” My heart looked up into His eyes and there I saw rejoicing

My sweet friend, He delights in you. Not because of anything you do or strive to be. In fact, in Psalm 46:10 He says, “Cease your striving and know that I am God.” Before you loved Him, He loved you. He thought of you before the foundation of the world. He has issued an invitation for you to get away and spend some time alone with Him (Mark 6:31). Will you accept His invitation? Will you go?

Take some time now to walk with the Lord through His Word.

Psalm 31:19
Jeremiah 32:41
Matthew 7:11
1 Corinthians 2:9
James 1:17

Dear one, what’s going on in your life right now? Even amidst great sorrow, trial or pain, or the regular Monday morning workday, God’s goodness is there (Romans 8:28), and His gifts of tenderness come. Are you watching for them? They may be as simple as a loved one’s embrace; or Big Horn sheep on a mountainside. Whatever, and however the gift comes, you can be sure He chose it. In fact, He has been storing it for just the right moment; it is just right for you, and it is good. As you hold the gift, be still, do you hear it? It is the sound of your heavenly Father rejoicing.

Glory!

An Original Conversations at the Well
© By Diana Morgan February 28, 2011

MY FATHER'S VOICE

2011-02-11T16:02:00.000-08:00

MY FATHER’S VOICE

…the Lord called Samuel; and he said, “Here I am.” (1 Samuel 3:4 NASB)

Then the Lord came and stood and called as at other times, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for Your servant is listening.” (1Samuel 3:10 NASB)

The Lord continued to appear at Shiloh and there He revealed Himself to Samuel through His Word. (1 Samuel 3:21 NIV)

The day was mild, the February sun warm on my face. A late afternoon breeze rustled the trees, their leaves waving a glad greeting as we walked beneath the stately boughs. Children ran and played, their laughter filling the air as Elizabeth and I walked through the park. We chatted about life and hopes and dreams, as mothers and daughters are known to do, when a scene up ahead caught my attention.

A man stood on the grass as he called several names. “Come,” he called. I followed his gaze; watching to see who belonged to him. The father called the names again. I watched as two boys on bicycles looked his way and then proceeded to ride in the opposite direction as fast as their legs would pedal. A younger boy of about 7 stood on the grass nearby, feeding ducks as his father called his name. “I want to feed the ducks!” he replied without so much as a glance in his father’s direction.

While two sons pedaled away, pretending they hadn’t heard their father’s voice, and another stubbornly continued feeding ducks, a fourth son, the youngest, who appeared to be no more than four years of age, had come and was quietly waiting at his father’s feet.

The father looked down as he softly said the small boy’s name. The boy’s face lit up at the sound of his father’s voice. I watched as the father bent down, speaking quietly, words meant for the one who responded to his call. The little boy leaned in until his forehead rested against his father’s face; all the while the father continued speaking. Then he wrapped the boy in his arms and gently lifted him off the ground and began walking along the edge of the water in deep conversation with his son.

A short while later as Elizabeth and I turned to head home, I spotted the father. He was sitting on a large boulder at the water’s edge, his young son nestled in against him. The father pointed at something out on the water as the little boy listened to his every word. My eyes scanned the area, looking for any sign of the wayward sons, but they were nowhere to be seen; they were too busy; too distracted to come when their father called. And oh what they were missing. The scene captivated me, and I tucked the picture into a corner of my heart to ponder later.

That night something stirred me to wakefulness and I sat up, tilting my head to one side as I listened. I was about to lay back down when I heard it; that still small voice whispering to my heart, “Come,” He said. In that moment the little boy who had responded to his father’s voice came to mind, and I so wanted to be like him. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I left the warmth of my bed, grabbed my Bible and headed off to the Well.

I arrived to find Him whom my soul loves waiting for me. I told Him all about the father who had called his sons. He listened as I spoke of the two who had pretended not to hear their father’s voice and rode away; then there was the third son who had stubbornly stayed where he was feeding ducks. At last my favorite part came and my heart was breathless as I told him about the youngest boy who had stood in quiet expectation at his father’s feet.

His eyes shone with memories of eternity past as He carried my heart to His Word. We stopped in 1 Samuel 3 where He told me about a boy named Samuel. He had called Samuel’s name, and once Samuel knew Who it was that was calling him, he said, “Here I am.” We read on until He stopped me again at verse 21. I read it over and over again.

The Lord continued to appear at Shiloh and there He revealed Himself to Samuel through His Word. (1 Samuel 3:21 NIV)

“Lord,” I whispered. “Yes,” He replied. “Lord, thank you for revealing yourself to me through your Word. Thank you for calling my name. Help me to be like Samuel and be listening for your voice and to have a heart that is quick to say, ‘Here I am.’”

We lingered there for a while as His words of truth wove themselves into the fabric of my heart.
Then, in the stillness, He who loves me called my name. He bent down until I could feel His very breath, and my heart leaned in until it rested in His presence. Joy!

My dear friend, what is your response when the Father calls your name? Do you pretend not to hear and ride off to the next task as fast as your legs will go? Do you say, “Wait, Lord, I’m feeding these ministry ducks and I’ll meet with you as soon as I’m finished.” Or do you have a heart like Samuel’s that is quick to say “Here I am.” Oh the wonder that awaits in the quietness of His presence.

An Original Conversations at the Well
By Diana Morgan
© February 11, 2011

LIFE IS HERE

2011-02-02T08:38:00.000-08:00

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die. Do you believe this?”
(John 11:25-26 NASB)

I sat quietly at the Well. The darkness before dawn settled around me as I waited for Him whom my soul loves to come with His glory light and chase all the shadows away.

I shivered in winter’s chill and wrapped a soft throw around me, but it did nothing to melt away the circumstances that seemed to have piled up overnight like snowdrifts in a winter storm. It seemed life had come to a halt, as winter has a way of doing. My writing was especially being impacted. I would try to get going, but I couldn’t seem to get any traction, like trying to drive up a snow covered, icy mountain road without snow tires or chains – I was spinning my wheels and getting nowhere in a hurry.

I hoped people wouldn’t notice me in my “nowhere-ness”, but they did. People who cared about me began asking questions. I thought of a friend who had stopped by my office and commented about the lack of writing he had seen from me recently. I made excuses, but inside I cried out, “I’m stuck. I’m in this snowdrift and can’t get myself out.”

I began justifying my inactivity with “when” thoughts. “When the economy improves, then I’ll get moving. When the pain from this tooth infection is resolved then life can resume. When I have more time then I’ll write again.” When… there is no shortage of “when thoughts” in winter-ness of the soul. Life is up ahead somewhere, on the other side of the snowdrifts of circumstances.

It was then that I remembered a phrase from an advertisement for a housing development that I had noticed on a billboard just before Christmas. I remembered it had caught me by surprise and I had written it down in my journal to ponder. I turned to the page in my journal and read the words again.

Your New Life Is Waiting For You Just 15 Miles Ahead

“I am the resurrection and the life.” My heart looked up startled at the sound of His voice as He whom my soul loves drew near. Without even saying good morning, I blurted out, “Lord, I’m stuck!”

“Walk with Me,” He said. I knew He meant a walk together in His Word, and my heart quickened as He led me in all my “stuck-ness” to John 11. I love to read about the raising of Lazarus from the dead. Countless times the Lord and I walked together through this very place in His Word, and I would find myself standing just behind Mary and Martha, breathless as Jesus uttered the command, “Lazarus, come forth!” I waited quietly for the story to unfold before me.

“Lord?” I whispered. “It’s very dark. I can’t see anything.” There were muffled voices as though spoken from behind a barrier. I tried to focus in the darkness, and noticed the slightest hint of light several feet away, but something was blocking it. I squinted in the darkness toward the light. “Lord, it’s as if there’s something blocking that light over there. It’s like there’s a…that is to say, um, Lord, it’s like there’s a big rock in the way.”

The words seemed to hang suspended in the darkness as my thoughts raced. The Lord had shown me the story of Lazarus from many different perspectives. I had sat in the house broken and grieving with Mary. I had run to meet Jesus with all my “if only” thoughts with Martha. I had stood filled with questions in the crowd of onlookers. But never had I seen it from behind the stone of winter – in the darkness of the tomb with Lazarus.

My eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and I took in the walls of stone. I caught my breath as I spotted Lazarus wrapped in burial cloths. I put a hand over my nose as I recalled what Martha had said in response to Jesus’ command to roll away the stone, “Lord, by this time there will be a stench…” His voice interrupted my thoughts as He asked, “When did Lazarus come to life?” I sat very still thinking about the question. I’d always been on the outside watching for Lazarus to come struggling out, wrapped tightly in grave cloths. I had always thought of Lazarus as being alive when he came out of the tomb. “When did life come?” He asked again.

I was not at all sure of where His question was taking me. Suddenly loud scraping sounds filled the air as men pushed the heavy stone away from the opening, and light mixed with dust filled the tomb. Through the dust Jesus’ voice thundered, “Lazarus, come forth.” His words reverberated inside the tomb of stone. Then I saw it, the gentle, but unmistakable rise and fall of Lazarus’ chest beneath the strips of cloth. He was breathing. He was alive! “He came to life when You called His name, and told him to come out,” I whispered.

Everything came to a stop then, as though frozen in that moment. That’s the amazing thing about walking through God’s Word with Jesus; He stops at incredible places. Places just right for heart-to-heart conversations with Him—like now.

“Do you think Lazarus was having ‘when’ thoughts?” I could feel my eyebrows crinkle in the center as I looked at Him with question marks in my eyes. He directed my attention back to Lazarus as He asked, “Do you suppose that Lazarus thought to himself: when I get outside then I’ll start breathing? Did he lay there waiting to be unwrapped before he got moving?” His questions came steadily and I wrestled with the words He spoke.

Then, as though an unseen hand had hit the play button, the scene came to life again. Lazarus sat up and struggled to his feet. He began to move toward the entrance of the tomb. The way was difficult. He could only take tiny steps and moved his body side to side. The scene stopped again. “Tell Me, is he any less alive bound and struggling? Is his life waiting outside in the sun or once the grave cloths are pulled away?” The Lord asked. In response, my puzzled heart looked into the Teacher’s eyes as I said, “Lord, you could have caused the grave cloths to fall away the moment You called Lazarus to come out. He could have walked or even run from the tomb then.”

We sat quietly, and then the One who gave all for me said, “In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.” I sat very still pondering His words from His Word as the scene came to life once more. I watched as Lazarus struggled outside into the sun. He was still struggling when Jesus directed the people to unbind him and let him go. The scene came to a stop as something about it caught my attention. Ever since Jesus had commanded Lazarus to come out, he had been struggling, inching his way in obedience to Jesus’ word to him. Lazarus didn’t say, “Well, Lord, when you unbind me I’ll come out.” No, Lazarus, in obedience, struggled and inched his way out until he finally stood face-to-face with Jesus.

“What a joyful moment that must have been,” I mused. My heart looked into eyes that held memories of eternity past as I said, “Lord, Lazarus was your dear friend.” I felt His hand upon my heart then as He whispered, “You are My friend if you do what I command you.” I recognized His words from John 15:14, and they pierced my heart as I realized I was not doing what He had commanded me to do. I was all wrapped up in life’s circumstances. I was in effect saying, “Lord, I’ll get back to the work you gave me to do when you unbind me and let me go; when you take Your heavenly snowplow and clear out these snowdrifts of circumstances, I’ll write again.”

I suddenly felt very small as I recalled Jesus’ circumstances as He labored, barely able to stand, under the cross. He had struggled on the road, under the weight of the cross, under the weight of my sin. Sometimes He fell, but He struggled to His feet and inched His way, step by labored step, in obedience to the Father, on toward Calvary, where He poured out His life for me. “Oh,” was all I could say there in His Presence.

Then the One who named the stars looked deep inside my heart as He said, “I am the resurrection and the life.” In His glory light the shadows disappeared and I could see what He was revealing to me. My heart looked up as I said, “My life in you is not dependent on circumstances. Help me to keep going even when things get difficult, and I feel stuck. Give me strength to keep pressing on in obedience, inch by inch, step by step, until the day I stand before You face-to-face and the circumstances of this world fall away in Your Presence.”

Back at the Well, we sat in sweet companionship in the quiet mist of dawn, and He shared words with me that He gave another friend of His named Paul to write down. 2 Corinthians 4:17. He personalized them just for me the way only He can, “Diana, do not lose heart, but though your outer person is decaying, your inner person is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for you an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while you look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”

Then He whispered, “Write.” I opened my laptop, the cursor flashed as though mocking me. I began to feel panicked, but then my heart nestled down at His feet and I worshiped Him. My fingers began tapping the keys, haltingly at first. Then letter by letter I began to write about the Word walk the Lord and I went on together, and those things whispered from His heart to mine. When I’d finished, I placed what I’d written in His hands, you know, the ones with deep dark places in the centers. “Well done,” He said and my heart smiled.

Then He touched the tops of the mountain peaks with soft hues of mauve and pink as the day began to wake up. I headed out the door, strips of circumstances still wrapped about me, but under all those circumstances was LIFE, glorious LIFE.

My dear friend, what circumstances have you “stuck” today? Take them to the Lord. Go with Him on a walk through His Word. He’ll stop you at all the right places, and give you what you need to press on. Sometimes you’ll run and sometimes the way will be hard. The circumstances wrapped around you so tight that you can barely move. He will strengthen you to keep walking in obedience to Him, step by step, until one day you step across heaven’s threshold and stand face-to-face with Jesus. The circumstances of this life will fall away, as Jesus wraps you in His embrace and whispers, “Well done. Oh, well done, my friend.” Joy!

An Original Conversation at the Well
By Diana Morgan
© Copyright February 2, 2011

A STOP IN BETHLEHEM

2010-11-26T09:06:00.000-08:00

BETHLEHEM

…in your light we see light. Psalm 36:9

It was dark and there was a chill in the air as I headed to the well. I stopped and lit a spiced cider candle before taking my place. I watched the flame dance and the warmth of the fragrance was soft and inviting. I opened His Book and read Psalm 36 and suddenly and without warning these words jumped off the page and into my heart, “in Your light we see light.” I looked up to see Him whom my soul loves looking at the candle and I smiled as I saw the Light of the world bathed in the soft glow of the candlelight and then my heart got all excited and breathless as it raced back to Psalm 36:9 and read again, “in Your light we see light.” I could not contain myself as my heart looked up at Him again and said, “In Your light I see light.” I could tell by the light dancing in His eyes that He had arranged this moment for me and He came and took a seat very near me at the Well and His presence enveloped me there in the light.
He took me to Isaiah 9:2 and I read it slowly (that’s the best way to read His Word), “The people who walk in darkness will see a great light – a light that will shine on all who live in the land where death casts its shadow.” (NLT) I sat wondering about this light the people in the dark would see and where exactly the light came from and then I stopped in verse 6 as we read together, “For a child is born to us, a son is given to us. And the government will rest on His shoulders. These will be His royal titles: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His ever expanding, peaceful government will never end. He will rule forever with fairness and justice from the throne of His ancestor David. The passionate commitment of the Lord Almighty will guarantee this!”
My heart looked into His eyes as I whispered in the stillness, “You are the light that shines on those who live in the land where death casts it shadow. These verses are talking about your birth, aren’t they?” He nodded quietly and my heart caught a reflection of memories from eternity past shining in the eyes of Him whom my soul loves. I wondered then if the angels decorated for Christmas. Did they hang a wreath on Heaven’s door or put up Christmas lights? Did Heaven celebrate the day He laid aside His glory and took on the helplessness of a newborn? Did Jesus followers who had already walked across Heaven’s threshold light candles and sing to Him about that day while angels stand in silent awe of the very wonder of such love by the Creator that He would take on the form of the created? As I sat in the stillness my heart thought it heard echoes of the joyful celebration intertwined with awe and wonder thundering from Heaven.
I wondered if it was the voices of angels my heart heard and if so were they the same angels who had proclaimed Jesus’ birth to a group of shepherds in the fields outside Bethlehem? “What of everyone else? Where were the people of Bethlehem? Didn’t they hear the voices of Angels proclaiming the birth of Him who came to die? Wouldn’t the sound of thousands of Heaven’s warriors singing praise to God travel through the streets of Bethlehem? Did anyone stop even for a moment, tilt their head and wonder what the sound was? Where were they?” I thought to myself. “They didn’t have room,” He said, following my thoughts.
I turned His words over and over in my mind and I realized things hadn’t changed much. My thoughts turned to Christmas lights and I thought about all the different lights of the season: Christmas lights that adorn people’s homes; Christmas tree lights that shine and twinkle and add warmth to evenings with family as they gather around the Christmas tree. The soft glow of candlelight for Christmas parties with co-workers and friends and family as their laughter fills the air. Lights shine from department store windows as frazzled and harried shoppers rush about, cramming one more thing into one more moment in one more hour of one more day. Budgets strain, heads pound, rest is scarce and hearts cry out in the midst of Christmas carols and sleigh bells. All the while, standing unseen by human eyes, the Angels are still proclaiming the Good News! I thought how easily we are distracted by “world-lights” and we miss Him. “No room,” He repeated.
As the flame of the candle danced, my heart nestled quietly at His feet and there in the Light of His Presence He began to share a story with me (He is the Master Storyteller, you know). It was a story of Christmas. As He began to weave the threads of the story into my heart I knew I needed to write it down so I opened my laptop and my fingers danced across the keyboard as He spoke.
The alarm rudely interrupted her sleep and she fumbled in the darkness until her fingers found the off button. Silence filled the house once again with the exception of Andy’s soft snoring. Beth groaned as she sat up. “How on earth had she allowed herself to be talked into this?” she wondered to herself as she headed to the shower. She stood in the shower willing herself to wake up as she recalled the conversation with her friends; the same conversation they had every year, and every year Beth laughed, told them they were crazy and then declined their offer.
She hurried from the bathroom to the closet where she quickly pulled on jeans and a sweater, selected comfortable shoes and sat down on the edge of the bed to put them on. She glanced at the clock; the illuminated numbers mocked her as they announced the time: 3:55 AM! Could it have really been just seven hours ago that she and Andy, Richard, Julie, Amy and John had sat in the living room downstairs sipping coffee in front of the fire after a wonderful Thanksgiving meal? Amy and Julie began talking about all the great bargains they were going to find on their annual shopping trip the next day and Beth could see the invitation coming. She had sat next to Andy giggling, already preparing to decline when she heard Andy say what a good idea he thought it was. After all, money was a bit tight and it wouldn’t hurt to get in on some bargains. “If it’s such a great idea why am I the one going shopping in the middle of the night?” she whispered. The only reply was Andy’s snoring. She pulled on her coat just as a car pulled into the driveway. She peered through the blinds and saw Amy walking to the front door, so grabbing her purse she kissed Andy’s cheek and switched off the light as she headed downstairs.
Beth opened the front door to find Amy standing on her doorstep smiling, holding out a travel mug with a bright red ribbon tied to the handle. “I come bearing gifts,” Amy said with a soft laugh. “It’s too early even for coffee,” Beth moaned as she stepped outside and turned to lock the front door. Amy’s cheerfulness wasn’t dampened in the least by her friend’s lack of enthusiasm. She continued holding out the mug to her friend as she said, “It’s Starbuck’s Christmas Blend. I ground it myself this morning. I even used your favorite creamer: toffee nut. But wait, there’s more. I also added just a sprinkling of ground cinnamon on top. Come on grumpy, take a sip,” Amy urged. “I now know why it is called Black Friday,” Beth said as she took the mug from her friend. “Do tell,” Amy said as they walked to the car. “Because it’s black outside which matches my mood,” Beth quipped as she climbed into the backseat.
Amy and Julie chatted cheerfully as Beth sat quietly in the backseat. She thought about all the things at home she had planned to accomplish that day and wouldn’t get to and would either not get done at all or be pushed to another timeslot. But where would she find time in a schedule in which every moment was already filled? “There’s no room,” she thought to herself. Beth’s mind began racing through the days ahead which were filled to the brim with the tasks of the Season. Her insides suddenly felt as if they were in a vice being squeezed as she ran down her mental calendar. There was a school field trip to the food bank downtown to show the kids how food was distributed to the needy. Then there were two school programs to attend, Andy’s staff Christmas party given by his employer, a family Christmas party at Andy’s parents’ house and the church Christmas pageant, their small group Christmas party at their house, and then she had agreed to help Amy at the local rescue mission on Christmas Eve immediately followed by the Candlelight service at church, and then, finally, Christmas Day. All of this was added on top of the usual day-to-day activities of family life. Then there was the added stress of the economic crunch which was now being felt in their life. As a result of layoffs at Andy’s place of employment his workload had increased but his benefits had been reduced. She sat surveying her life, “no room,” she whispered into the darkness.
She was brought back to the here and now as Amy pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot where a crowd of shoppers had already congregated at the doors waiting for them to open. Beth got out of the car and decided to try and enjoy herself as the three friends spent the morning shopping together. By eleven o’clock they had each nearly completed their shopping. Julie spotted a Panera and they decided this would be a good time to stop for lunch.
“So,” Amy began, “are you all ready to begin the Advent activities?” All three of them had purchased Advent calendars. Julie and Amy each shared various activities they already had planned and then they looked at Beth eager to hear what Advent plans she had made. “Well?” Julie enquired. Beth looked down at her fork as she confessed that the Advent package was still in its box, unopened. Amy and Julie sat looking at their friend, expressions of concern in their faces. Tears sprang into Beth’s eyes as she felt the internal vice tighten. “No room,” was all she could manage to say.
A few hours later Amy helped Beth carry her packages from the car into the house. Amy gave Beth a big “I love you friend” hug before she headed home. Beth closed the front door and didn’t see her friend sitting in the front seat of her car with her head bowed having a conversation with her Heavenly Father about a dearly loved friend and sister in Christ who had found herself with no room. A few hours later found Beth lying exhausted in bed and yet unable to sleep. Her thoughts were racing around and around in her head leaving no room for rest or even the ability to carry it all to the Lord. “No room,” she whispered. Sometime in the wee hours a troubled sleep came.
The weeks passed and Beth ticked off the activities on the calendar as each came and went. The week before Christmas Beth was heading out the door to one more meeting when Andy asked her why the Nativity had not been set out yet. Beth turned and looked at the place on the mantle where the Nativity usually sat, she felt that internal vice tighten another couple of notches as she mumbled under her breath, “No room.” She arrived home late and the kids were already in bed and Andy had fallen asleep on the couch. She got ready for bed and went back downstairs to clean things up and get ready for the next day’s activities when she noticed Andy had set the Nativity out on the mantle.
The fire snapped and crackled cheerfully in the fireplace inviting her to rest a while. She stood there looking at the figures and realized she simply wanted Christmas to be over. She was tired of the endless lists of things that had to get done and places she had to be and deadlines she had to meet and she knew she had been standing there when she should have been doing things – there was no room in her day for standing and looking at Nativity scenes. No room for rest. “No room,” she whispered as she walked off to her next task.
Christmas Eve arrived and Beth pulled into an empty parking space in front of the Rescue Mission. She spotted Amy’s car a few spots over and headed to the entrance as she glanced at her watch. She hoped all would go smoothly as there was no room in her schedule for anything unplanned. They were supposed to finish serving dinner and wrapping gifts at the Mission by 6:30 which would leave Beth just enough time to go home, clean up and go to church with her family for the Christmas Eve Candlelight Service at 8:00.
Amy and Beth worked hard cooking in the kitchen and then served food for two hours straight. The next shift of servers arrived to relieve them and Beth headed toward the gift wrap area where she would spend her final hour at the mission wrapping gifts for the many people who would be spending Christmas there. Suddenly the air seemed stifling and Beth decided to step outside for a moment or two for some fresh air. She stepped through the rear door into a small courtyard behind the mission. The air was cold but welcome. Beth closed her eyes for a moment, leaning her head against the stone wall.
“Are you alright?” A man’s voice interrupted Beth’s quiet moment. She opened her eyes and found herself looking up at a tall, middle-aged man with a scruffy looking beard and ragged clothes. “I am fine. Just getting a little air,” Beth replied as she turned to head back inside. “The name’s Gabriel,” the man said as he extended his hand. Beth pretended not to notice his friendly gesture and reached for the doorknob as she said, “I really need to get back. There’s so much left to do.” Gabriel stepped closer and reached the door first and held it open for her as he said, “Can you come to the Christmas play we are doing tonight?” Beth tried to hide her surprise as she wondered what type of Christmas play this raggedy man would be in as she quickly replied, “No. I couldn’t possibly. No room,” she finished as she disappeared through the door and quickly headed to the gift wrap area. She glanced around the room and didn’t see Gabriel anywhere and assumed he had probably gone to the dining hall. She quickly put him out of her thoughts as she wrapped Christmas presents.
An hour later found Beth walking to her car wondering where the joy was she was supposed to feel – especially this time of year. But she didn’t feel joy. She reached her car and stood there a moment in the dark wrestling with something inside that was threatening to consume her. What was it she felt exactly? She closed her eyes and turned her face heavenward just as the first snowflakes began to gently fall and as they began kissing her face leaving droplets of moisture on her cheeks she realized what she felt inside: dry. “Oh Father, please help me,” she whispered into the darkness as she opened her car door and climbed inside, unaware that her prayer was heard long before it ever left her lips and help was waiting just down the road.
Beth pulled out of the parking lot onto the two lane road toward home. The snow was falling more heavily and she slowed her car as she entered a sharp curve. As she made the turn a deer suddenly sprang from the darkness directly in front of her and Beth slammed on the brakes, her car skidding to a stop as she heard a loud noise coming from her car. She sat clutching the steering wheel, her heart beating wildly as the deer stood staring at her in the headlights and then bounded off leaving her there to deal with this on her own. “Great!” she exclaimed as she rummaged through the glove box for the flashlight. She snapped the flashlight on, opened the car door and got out and walked to the other side of her car. Just as she feared, the rear passenger side tire was flat as a pancake. She walked back to the driver side, grabbed her cell phone from the center console to call the Auto Club but was unable to get a signal. “Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!” she yelled into the darkness to no one in particular.
“Are you alright?” a familiar voice asked. Startled, Beth pointed her flashlight in the direction of the voice and found Gabriel standing across the road. “Wh-what are you doing out here, Gabriel?” Beth asked nervously. Gabriel smiled as he explained, “We are having our Christmas play right over here in this field. You are invited, Beth.” He finished gently. Beth couldn’t remember telling him her name and it gave her an odd, unsettled feeling. She glanced at her watch as she said, “Sorry, Gabriel. I have to see to my car and then I have someplace to be and…” her voice trailed off and she heard Gabriel’s voice right next to her softly say, “I know Beth, you have no room.”
She turned around expecting Gabriel to be standing right behind her but was surprised to see he was still across the road. She stood shivering by her car, a puzzled look on her face as Gabriel said, “Don’t worry about your tire, Beth. Come,” he invited. She stood there shivering as she wrestled over what she should do. A thought occurred to her then that perhaps she could get a phone signal out in the field so she made her decision and quickly grabbed her car keys and her cell phone, shut the driver’s door and hit the lock button and headed across the street, hoping she wasn’t acting foolishly and that Gabriel wasn’t crazy.
It had stopped snowing and they walked together in silence, the fallen snow crunching under their feet. Beth stole a sideways glance at the odd man walking beside her. “He must be seven feet tall,” she mused to herself. He was in need of a haircut and a shave. His clothes were tattered and obviously meant for someone a bit shorter. She looked down at his shoes; they were mismatched. As she looked at his feet something else struck her; something about his walk. Yes, he walked with purpose; like he knew where he was going and what to do when got there. “Odd,” she thought to herself. She decided to ask a question that had come to mind when he had first mentioned the play, “What part do you have in the Christmas play?” she asked. “I’m a messenger,” He said quietly. “You mean you play an angel?” she asked. “Something like that,” He said. Beth looked up at him and thought she saw something flash in his eyes but quickly dismissed the thought as they came through a cluster of trees into an open field.
Movement caught her eye and she could make out sheep through the darkness their gentle bleating breaking the stillness. She could also see several small campfires dotting the field and men huddled around them, some stretching their hands toward the flames to keep warm. Beth looked at Gabriel as she asked, “Shepherds?” “Yes,” came the one word reply. Gabriel seated Beth at a small campfire. He handed her a wool blanket which she gladly put over her legs. He pulled something from his coat pocket and handed it to her as he said, “It’s the script. You can read along, if you like.” She looked down and saw that he had handed her a Bible. It fell open to the book of Luke. She was about to say something but when she looked up Gabriel was headed in the direction of the shepherds.
Beth began to read the text, “There were shepherds in a field outside of Bethlehem, tending their flocks by night.” She looked up as her eyes took in the scene before her, “Shepherds tending their flocks by night,” she whispered. It was then she noticed Gabriel standing near a group of shepherds. “But when did he have time to change?” she wondered out loud. He was clothed in white and looked quite impressive as she took in the realistic looks of fear mixed with awe on the faces of the shepherds. She looked down, following the words of Gabriel’s announcement to the Shepherds and looked up as the words came to life in the field before her very eyes.
Nothing prepared her for what happened next. All of a sudden the field shown brilliant as what appeared to be an army of men all every bit as tall as Gabriel and they were singing a song she had never heard before – it was a song of praise to God and the very ground beneath her seemed to reverberate with the sound of their joy. “Oh!” she cried. “But how…who…?” was all she could manage. Then just as suddenly as they had appeared they vanished and the field was cloaked in a strange silence.
The air was electric as she heard the shepherds’ excited tones and then they all began running. She read the text out loud, “They ran to the village and found Mary and Joseph and there was the baby lying in the manger.” She looked up to see the shepherds slow their pace as they approached what appeared to be a hollowed out place in the hillside. She caught a glimpse of firelight and a young man and woman sitting in its warmth. The shepherds stood peering inside when she heard it – a baby’s cry through the night. Beth saw a tiny hand extend up out of the feeding trough and the young woman brushed a tear from her cheek as she motioned the shepherds to come near.
As Beth sat riveted to the scene the young woman lifted the baby out of the manger. He was wrapped in strips of cloth, “just as the angel said,” Beth whispered. Something on the hillside above them caught her eye and she looked up just as the clouds lifted, revealing the hilltop and on it stood a cross. She caught her breath as she stood looking from the manger to the cross the tears flowing down her cheeks as a familiar voice softly asked, “Beth, do you have room?” She went to her knees in the middle of that field and talked to the Lord about her heart that she had allowed to become so busy that she had run out of room: no room to sit with Him, no room to read His Word, no room to sit in His presence.
Gabriel helped her up and she smiled as she noticed he was wearing his tattered clothes and mismatched shoes again. As they walked back toward her car it began to snow again and as she turned her face heavenward and the snowflakes gently kissed her face, leaving tiny drops of moisture on her cheeks, she realized she wasn’t dry on the inside anymore. Her once dry heart was drenched in joy. They arrived at the car and she stopped and stared. She turned a puzzled look at Gabriel. “Look at that,” he said, “someone fixed your tire.” Gabriel helped her into her car and before he closed the door she reached out and took his hand in hers. She couldn’t speak and he simply nodded and then closed her door.
She glanced at her watch and then out the window, intending to wave goodbye to Gabriel but he was gone. She pulled her cell phone from her coat pocket. “That’s funny,” she thought, “My cell phone has full power now.” She shrugged and called Andy and quickly told him about the flat tire and that she would just meet him at church. Then she dialed Amy’s number. She answered on the third ring and Beth told her how much she enjoyed the Christmas play the mission had put on and she hoped they would do it again and that Gabriel made an excellent angel. “Amy?” Beth said into the silence. Amy sounded confused as she answered, “Beth, I don’t have any idea what you are talking about. The mission didn’t do any Christmas plays. And Beth, there’s no one at the mission named Gabriel.” Beth set her phone down on the seat, her heart overwhelmed within her.
Fifteen minutes later she pulled into the church parking lot. She hurried inside and spotted Andy and the kids sitting in the third row. Andy squeezed her hand as she sat down and then kissed her cheek as he whispered, “I love you, Beth.” Then he reached over and pulled something from her hair as he whispered, “Beth, where on earth have you been?” She looked at the piece of straw Andy held in his fingers and she smiled as she said, “I’ve been to Bethlehem.”
I closed my laptop and through my tears whispered, “Lord, thank you. Thank you for coming. Thank you for going from the manger to the cross for me. Forgive me for the times I didn’t have room for you. Help me never to lose sight of who you are and why you came. When I am distracted by the world-lights of this will you take me back to Bethlehem? My heart looked into the eyes of Love as His voice thundered through my soul, “I will beloved. I will.”

An Original Conversations at the Well
Diana Morgan
© Copyright December 7, 2009

From Thanks"Getting" to Thanks"GIVING"

2010-11-13T19:01:00.000-08:00

I woke early and headed to the Well. I stopped and got my coffee with toffee nut creamer and lit a few spiced cider candles before I took my place at the Well. It was still dark and the house was bathed in stillness. He whom my heart loves hadn't arrived yet so while I waited I took a deep breath and let it out - grateful for a day free from rushing about and so glad there was no where I had to hurry off to.

With gratitude in my heart for precious time at the Well I allowed my thoughts to turn to things I was thankful for. That's what Thanksgiving Day is for, isn't it? I began to make a list of all the things I was thankful for: Salvation, home, family, my job (especially in this economy), ministry, friends. I sat thoughtfully tapping my pen on my journal as I prepared to become more detailed in my "Thanks" list, and then looking up I noticed Him.

He was standing at the living room window studying the eastern sky which was still cloaked in darkness. His eyes looked serious as He turned His gaze toward the deep places of my heart and I wondered what He saw there. Feeling a bit exposed I decided to tell Him about my "Thanksgiving list". I held up my journal so He could see it as though He didn't already know all that was written on it; even those things I hadn't thought of yet. He sat down but instead of studying my list He continued to gaze beyond my line of vision to the deepest places of my heart.

"Lord," I began, "did you see my list? I am thankful to you for these things." I thought I sounded quite sincere and I waited in the stillness for Him to approve my "thankfulness". But instead He said something that turned my thoughts inside out. He continued gazing into my heart as He said, "I see 'ThanksGETTING' in your heart." His Words thundered through my soul shaking loose my ideas of giving thanks. I turned my startled heart toward Him whom my soul loves and asked what He meant by "ThanksGETTING".

I read through my list again and as I did the Light of His Presence fell across the page and I saw that the things I had written were things I had "gotten". "Hmmmm," I thought to myself, "ThanksGETTING." I turned my puzzled heart back to Him and together we began to talk about people close to me who were struggling. Some had lost jobs. One dear family had lost a child. Others had lost fathers, husbands, friends. Another was facing fierce battles of the spiritual kind and her family was under attack from an enemy wishing to destroy them. Is it possible to have a thankful heart even in the midst of pain? "These are hard things, Lord," I whispered. I tried to put myself in their shoes and then a question formed in my heart and I knew He had placed it there, "If I lost everything, would I still give thanks? Was He worthy of my thanks apart from anything else?" Knowing my thoughts He gently took me with Him to His Word.

Psalm 107:1 Give thanks to the Lord for He is good, His love endures for ever.

Psalm 105:1 Give thanks to the Lord, call on His name.

Psalm 103:1 Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being praise His holy name.

Psalm 101:1 I will sing of your love and justice; to you, O Lord, I will sing praise.

He then took me to Psalm 100 and He read it to me and His Words turned golden in my heart as they cast His light into the dark corners of the deep places I could not see.

Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth. Worship the Lord with gladness; come before Him with joyful songs. Know that the Lord is God. It is He who made us, and we are His; we are His people, the sheep of His pasture. Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise; give thanks to Him and praise His name. For the Lord is good and His love endures forever; His faithfulness continues through all generations. (Psalm 100:1-5 NIV.)

Light dawned in my heart as I said, "True thanksgiving begins in worship. I was focused on things received instead of on You - the One who gave them." I looked up into the eyes of Him who patiently teaches me and loves my often slow to understand heart. His eyes were still serious but ablaze with His glory.

Words from Isaiah 9:6 poured into my heart then, "And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." "Oh," I cried, You are gloriously enough and worthy of all my praise and all my thanks simply because of who You are." I realized anew the importance of knowing the Lord - knowing His character. He is the One who enables the hurting to still worship, to still give thanks in the midst of dark days.

I was overwhelmed there in His presence and my heart bowed down to worship Him as my "thanksGETTING" turned to "thanksGIVING".

Dear one, as you go about your Thanksgiving Day stop and before you begin listing all that you are thankful for turn your "thanksGETTING" to "ThanksGIVING" and worship Him for who He is: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. The Great I AM. Alpha and Omega.

El Shaddai - All Sufficient One
El Olam - The Everlasting God
El Elyon - The God Most High
Jehovah-nissi - The Lord My Banner
Jehovah-jireh - The Lord Will Provide
Elohim - The Creator
Qanna - Jealous
Jehovah-shalom - The Lord is Peace
Jehovah-sabaoth - The Lord of Hosts
El Roi - The God Who Sees
Jehovah-raah - The Lord My Shepherd
Jehovah-shammah - The Lord is There
Jehovah-mekoddishkem - The Lord Who Sanctifies You
Jehovah-rapha - The Lord Who Heals
Adonai - Lord, Master
Yahweh - LORD (Jehovah)

Psalm 9:10-11 "Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you. Sing praises to the Lord..."

Can you think of other names of God? Rock. Savior. Comforter. Hiding Place. Redeemer. Enjoy your time focusing on who He is and then give thanks for Who He is and what He has done. GLORY!!

Have a blessed and glorious Thanksgiving!

Love,
Diana

An Original Conversations at the Well
Diana Morgan
November 26, 2009

I recommend reading Trusting in the Names of God by Catherine Martin.

SILENT TRANSFORMATION

2010-11-12T08:38:00.000-08:00

I hear the fire crackle happily as I gaze out at the glorious colors of fall. A few leaves gently drift past the glass. I take a sip of coffee, the rich aroma inviting me to let go the stresses of the busy world, and rest a while.

I read Amy Carmichael's words, "Home of my heart, lest I forget my redemption's cost to Thee, let my earliest thought be set upon Thy Calvary."

I nestle in, wrapping my shoulders with the warmth of a soft throw. Amy's words take me to the feet of Jesus. My heart looks up to see Him looking out the picture window as the first snow begins to fall. The snowflakes, like delicate lace fall softly, without a sound. Soon the world will be covered in a dazzling white blanket. I wonder how something so still and quiet can work such transformation. "Ah," I whisper, as my heart's gaze falls again on the object of it's very existence. "Lord, it is like you. You come silent as the snow, doing your transforming work in my life." I close my eyes, wrapped in His presence and I am at rest. Joy!

Copyright 2010
Diana Morgan
Conversations at the Well
November 12, 2010

REFLECTIONS OF HIS GLORY

2010-11-11T06:42:00.000-08:00

REFLECTIONS OF HIS GLORY
Earlier this week, as I strolled through my yard, I spotted two brilliant, yellow butterflies. They were dancing happily amongst the beautiful yellow lantana. The butterflies brilliant color and graceful dance only served to draw my attention more closely to the breathtaking color of the flowers. Oh, aren't we, God's women, like those butterflies? We too have joined in the dance, and as the world observes, the vivid hues of our life points to the One whose Glory we reflect.

And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into His likeness, with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. 2 Corinthians 3:18 NIV

BUT JESUS BENT DOWN

2010-11-09T06:42:00.000-08:00

I am taking part in a study by Catherine Martin called a Woman's Walk in Grace. This week we are studying John 8:1-11, the woman caught in adultery. This morning as I read these verses again, I was stopped in verse six as I read, "...But Jesus bent down..."

I don't know about you, but when the Lord stops me at a particular place, and it seems as if He has marked a word, a sentence or a phrase with His heavenly highlighter, my pulse quickens. Because I know He is about to reveal something to my heart that He wants me to know.

"But Jesus bent down..." Her life was in ruins, but Jesus bent down. She was drug through the dirt of her sin, headed for judgment, but Jesus bent down. She was humiliated and used by others trying to accomplish their own purpose, but Jesus bent down. She was confronted with her sin, but Jesus bent down. She deserved death, but Jesus bent down. Her life appeared to be over, but Jesus bent down.

My friend, where does life find you today? Is a dear one sick, but Jesus bent down. Are you alone, but Jesus bent down. Do you feel there is no hope, but Jesus bent down. Are you confronted by your own frailty, but Jesus bent down.

As Jesus bent down, grace was unfurled.

A Conversation by Diana Morgan
November 9, 2010 .

The Mother-Load

2010-11-08T06:30:00.001-08:00

THE MOTHER-LOAD
“Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7).
I sat on the steps at the Well, my chin in my hands and my heart full of worrisome “what if” thoughts. I had struck the mother-load -- you know, the load of worries a mother carries when things happen in her children’s lives she has no control over. He came and sat down next to me. “Tell me,” He said simply. I knew He already knew it all, had seen it all, but it helps for worried mother-hearts to pour it all out before Him. “Lord, my Elizabeth was in a car accident. What if…” my voice broke along with my heart and I couldn’t go on. He sat with me, quietly present until I could continue. “I saw her car. It was very bent and broken and I felt so scared inside. Scared of all the things that could be and might be and I wanted to wrap her in my arms; holding her forever in my mother-ness.”
He shared with me how His mother had watched Him walk the road for thirty-three years. “She had many ‘what if’ thoughts too,” He said. I wondered about that: how she bore it, seeing her beloved son suffering so. I wondered if she had thought of the tiny hands that had once rested in hers, now with spikes driven right through. His were wounds of a Savior; wounds a mother could not kiss away. Did it feel to her as though those spikes were driven through her own heart?
He looked deep into my mother-heart then and whispered, “Trust Me.” In the stillness He spoke comfort through His Word.
“Isaiah 40:11 He tends His flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart….”
“Psalm 23:1-4: The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for His names’ sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil for you are with me.”
Psalm 62:5-8: “Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor depend on God, He is my mighty rock, my refuge. Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to Him, for God is our refuge.”
Jeremiah 31:3: “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness”.
Psalm 56:3-4 says this: “When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can mortal man do to me?”
As His Words sank deeply into my heart I felt comforted and strengthened. The world changes but He is the same yesterday, today and forever. My mother-heart could trust in Him; standing firmly on who He is and what He says. As my heart nestled down in peace at His feet, a poem emerged from the deepest place of my heart -- a place reserved for a mother’s love, and I poured my thoughts onto paper.

Elizabeth
Tiny hands rest in mine,
New life held in my arms.
Your daddy watches over you;
keeps you safe from all that harms.

I never will forget that day
Though I grow old the memory shan’t depart;
The day a precious baby girl
arrived to steal my heart.

Our hearts overflowed with love that day;
the sight of you stole our very breath.
Then daddy bent down whispered in your ear
We love you, sweet Elizabeth.

Rolling over, sitting up
Holding daddy’s hand you learned to walk
Baby toys placed upon the shelf
Baby chatter turned to little girl talk.

Roller skates and lady bugs
amidst a mother’s sighs
pigtails dancing in the wind,
mischief in your eyes.

The years sped by, each day you grew
It seemed no time at all
Roller skates and lady bugs
gave way to bat and ball.

Your turn to bat, we gripped our chairs;
we held our very breath.
Crack of bat; “homerun”, coach yells
Oh how we cheered for you, Elizabeth!

Hiking boots and backpacks
replaced the bat and ball
Then to your father’s dread
The boys began to call.

High School years flew by so fast
College graduation came; we scarce could catch our breath
When we heard them call your name
We were so proud, sweet Elizabeth!

Early morning 4 mile run
I find I’m out of breath
Young woman running at my side;
You are my daughter, my friend, my sweet Elizabeth

“I was in a car accident,” you cried.
We listened and held our breath
We held you close and caught your tears
We love you, sweet Elizabeth

Sounds of joy, tears and laughter
echo through the years
Hearts knit together with threads of love;
giving strength to withstand all fears.

Painting a word picture of our love;
the height, the width the depth,
Hearts intertwined bound together by love
For you, sweet Elizabeth.

I left the poem on the steps at the Well with a note written to Him whom my heart loves. “Lord, thank you for my sweet Elizabeth. Please keep her in your care -- don’t let her go even for a moment.
Love,
Diana”
Later in the day I spied the poem in the corner of my heart and saw that He had added verses of His own.

Dear one, I love your daughter too.
Knew her name long before you.
Wove her together; I gave her first breath;
She’s precious to me, sweet Elizabeth.

Loved her so much I just had to come
Thoughts of her were in my last breath
When she is still I whisper across her soul,
“I love you, sweet Elizabeth.”

A mother’s tears fell on the paper and then I felt His presence wrap around me. I leaned against Him so close I could hear His Father heart-beat. I left my mother worries and cares at His feet, trusting Him with my dear daughter and knowing His love far surpassed my own. John 3:16: “God so loved the world that He gave His only Son that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.”
That is amazing love; more than enough for all my “what if” mother-heart worries. Dear one, are you carrying a “mother-load” of worries and fears of your own? Pour out your heart in conversation to the Lord.
“The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing (Zephaniah 3:17).”

A Conversation of Praise

2010-11-07T09:25:00.000-08:00

I carried my coffee and my Bible out to the yard, and sat down on a large flat boulder. As I sat nestled amongst the yellow and purple lantana, my eyes were drawn to the mountains rising up to meet the western sky. Light was silently creeping into the sky, and just beginning to color the mountain peaks in shades of pink and mauve. Then the first sunlight touched the very top of the highest peak, and I blinked as it seemed the very touch of the sun caused the mountain to reach ever higher upward, as if trying to peer into the throne room of God Most High.

It was then I sensed the sweet presence of Him whom my soul loves and together we went to Isaiah 55:12. He asked me to read it out loud.

"You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands." Isaiah 55:12 NIV

My heart was filled with unmeasured joy as a mockingbird joined in the morning celebration of a new day. A new day to love the Lord. A new day to praise Him, not only with my lips but with my actions, my very being rising up as the mountains, my soul clapping in jubilant celebration as the trees clap their hands.

He drew me very near Him, and my heart worshiped the One who alone is worthy of worship.

Glory!

My dear friend, has there been a time when you have had a conversation of praise with the Lord? I would love for you to share it here.

Conversations at the Well

2010-10-31T07:49:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends,

2 Timothy 3:16 tells us that, "All Scripture is God-breathed... Hebrews 4:12 states this about God's Word, "For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow, it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart."

Have you ever sat and contemplated the Word of God?

Tomorrow's Conversations will be the story I shared last month (as only one of you heard it, and I did not post it, it will be new for most of the rest of you). In the story, we will see first-hand the power of the Word of God as it goes out. The study portion will be new, and will focus on the power of the Word of God. Also, as I have been working on a new story, I realized that it builds on this story I'll be sharing tomorrow night. God never ceases to amaze me.

Ask God to prepare your heart for what you will hear and what He has specifically for you. Think about the Word of God.

We will begin at 7 as this particular story is longer than normal, and I want you to have the full time on your own in His Word. At 7 we will listen to one song, and then go right into the story.

What to Bring:
Bible
Journal
Pens, Highlighters
Favorite Quiet Time Supplies

I am looking forward to our time together.

See you tomorrow night at the Well.

Diana
760-567-9339

Heartbeats of Grace

2010-10-28T09:30:00.000-07:00

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. You will live in the land I gave your forefathers; you will be my people, and I will be your God.” (Ezekiel 36:26-28 NIV)

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. (Romans 5:1-2 NIV)

I am currently taking part in an online study called A Woman’s Walk in Grace, led by Catherine Martin. Each week she posts a question for us to ponder and answer before the online discussion. This week’s question: Share one way you have seen God work in your life and spiritually grow you deep in the garden of grace. I thought I would share my ponderings to that question with you this morning as this week’s devotional.

Grace. Such a small word, and yet one could fill volumes in the sharing of it. As I ponder this question, God has pressed on my heart to share the beginning. Just as grace pursued Peter through the dark days following his denial of Jesus, until he stood face to face with grace on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, and Jesus gathered Peter's brokenness and restored him, God also pursued me through some dark days. Grace kept coming after me, kept whispering to my heart that I was not a lost cause. Until one night, when I reached the bottom and my heart cried out, "who would want me now?" Grace thundered through the darkness, "I want you, Diana. It's not too late. Reach out your hand." Jesus showed up. In fact, He had been in pursuit of me for months, but I hadn't recognized Him until that moment.

Soon after that; and I will never forget this, my husband took me on a weekend getaway to a small bed and breakfast in the mountains. He was taking me out to dinner. When I went to put on the dress I had brought to wear, there, lying across the dress was a beautiful diamond heart pendant. It took my breath away. My husband, with eyes dancing, picked it up and put the sparkling heart around my neck as he said, "Diana, this represents the new heart God has given you." Ezekiel 36:26 is one my most treasured whispers from the Lord to me, "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh." Grace. Grace pursued me through the darkness. Grace called my name. Grace redeemed me. Grace rescued me. Grace removed my old, stinky, hard, heart of sin. Grace put a new heart within me; a heart that beats with delight for the Lord; a heart that desires the Lord above all else.

Grace doesn’t end with our salvation. Oh no, that is just the beginning.
In the stillness this morning as the Lord invited me to sit with Him awhile and talk about His grace, my heart looked up, and His eyes danced as He reminded me of the new heart He gave me. Not the physical one that will one day wear out. No, this is the heart that is soul-deep, and as we talked I heard it, joyous heartbeats of grace.

What about you, my friend. What is one way God has grown you in the garden of grace?

An Original Conversations at the Well
Diana Morgan
October 28, 2010

HEAVEN'S DECLARATION

2010-09-26T07:19:00.000-07:00

HEAVEN’S DECLARATION

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky displays what his hands have made. 2 One day tells a story to the next. One night shares knowledge with the next 3 without talking, without words, without their voices being heard. 4 {Yet,} their sound has gone out into the entire world, their message to the ends of the earth.
Psalms 19:1-4 (GW)

I carried my Bible and my cup of coffee out into the yard. A large flat boulder in the midst of desert plants invited me to come sit a while. I set my Bible down next to me and took in the glorious stillness while I waited for He whom my soul loves to nudge the day into wakefulness.

I took a sip of coffee and looked up at the night sky. The moon hung in the west, and was beginning her quiet descent behind the mountains while Mars lit her way. I continued studying the sky and my gaze came to rest on the Big Dipper. My thoughts began turning, and I looked down at His Word sitting next me and then back at the Big Dipper. A smile touched my lips as I whispered, “Lord, the Big Dipper even reminds me to dip into your living word water, and drink deeply.” It was then my heart became aware of familiar footsteps, and looked up to see Him walking through the garden to meet with me.

He sat down on the boulder next to me, and I simply enjoyed His sweet company there under the expanse of stars He had hung Himself. As we sat quietly, I looked around the garden and then at Him and thought of another garden He had spent time in, the night before He went to the cross. I looked at His hands, the ones with the deep, dark scars in them, and thought of how the hands that hung stars had spikes pounded through them. “Lord,” I whispered. “that must have hurt so much. Thank you for…” I couldn’t finish. I looked around the garden, and then at Him as I thought about the wonder of grace. I smiled through my tears as I realized I was sitting with Him in a garden – a garden of grace.

We turned our attention back to the heavens and He shared familiar words with me from His book. They were words He had given a shepherd boy named David to write down.

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky displays what his hands have made. 2 One day tells a story to the next. One night shares knowledge with the next 3 without talking, without words, without their voices being heard. 4 {Yet,} their sound has gone out into the entire world, their message to the ends of the earth.
Psalms 19:1-4 (GW)
I looked back at the Big Dipper and how it reminds me to drink from the Streams of Life, and Psalm 19, came alive and made its way deep into my heart. I was filled with wonder at the One Who before time itself had written His love for me into His sky. It declares without uttering a word God’s love.
I was overwhelmed by Him and Who He is. The Great I AM. My heart bowed in worship, and a song I used to sing when I was a little girl came to mind, and I decided to sing it to the One my soul lives for. You can sing it to Him too.

How Great Thou Art
Oh Lord my God when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the *worlds thy hands have made
I see the stars, I hear the **rolling thunder
Thy power throughout the universe displayed

REFRAIN:
Then sings my soul my savior God to thee
How great thou art
How great thou art
Then sings my soul my savior God to thee
How great thou art how great thou art

When thru the woods and forest glades I wander
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur
And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze (Refrain)

And when I think that God, his Son not sparing
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in
That on the cross my burden gladly bearing
He bled and died to take away my sin (Refrain)

When Christ shall come With shout of acclamation
To take me home What joy shall fill my heart
Then I shall bow in humble adoration
And there proclaim my God how great thou art (Refrain)

LOOK TO THE LORD

2010-09-19T15:55:00.000-07:00

LOOK TO THE LORD
“I lift up my eyes to you, to you whose throne is in heaven. As the eyes of slaves look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a maid look to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the LORD our God, till He shows us His mercy” (Psalm 123:1,2 NIV).
Have you ever been in the midst of the ordinary when suddenly the Lord shows up and reveals something to you about being in relationship with Him?
The sidewalk narrowed and I dropped back behind Marc and Teddy. Teddy is our golden retriever and is about to turn two years old. He is a wonderful dog. Not only is he beautiful, but he is so very gentle. I smiled as I recalled a recent visit by our six year old grandson Hunter. Hunter picked up one of Teddy’s toys and began to run through the living room, dining room, kitchen, entry way and back to the living room with Teddy in hot pursuit. Around and around they went. Teddy could have easily caught Hunter, knocked him down and taken his toy back, but he didn’t. The great chase finally ended with Hunter turning around giggling, as 110 pounds of joy licked his face. The memory warmed my heart as we walked along under a starry canopy.
Suddenly, headlights pierced the darkness as a car approached from behind us. I glanced at Teddy, wondering if he was going to try to chase the car as he had the previous morning on our walk. I could see the scene clearly in my mind’s eye. A car approached from behind us, and as it passed Teddy suddenly darted after the car, attempting to chase after it. Marc’s discipline was immediate and firm. His hand gave the corrective collar a jerk, and his voice thundered through the predawn stillness as he commanded Teddy to heel. I wondered now what was about to happen.
The car was fast approaching, Teddy’s ears moved into alert mode and there was no doubt he was very much aware of what was coming. The car reached us and as it passed Teddy suddenly turned his gaze upward to his master, and then he touched Marc’s hand with his muzzle while moving his body in closer until he was actually in physical contact with Marc as they continued walking along. For several minutes they walked this way, with Teddy constantly looking up at Marc, and Marc pouring verbal praises down on Teddy. Teddy was basking in the approval of his master.
As I took in the scene, I pondered Teddy’s response to his master’s discipline. He hadn’t pouted or become wild or rebellious. His response was to look to his master and move in closer to him. “A master disciplines those he loves.” “Lord, I didn’t see you arrive,” I said a bit startled. I looked at Marc and wondered if he noticed the Lord walking with us. Teddy had stopped to investigate some bushes as we turned onto a path that wound through many trees and shrubs.
“I don’t like discipline very much,” I said, flatly. “I discipline those who belong to Me. Don’t make light of it,” He replied. He stopped to look at a little blue flower that had opened at the tip of one of the many vines that lined the path. The vines had recently been pruned, and were now beginning to blossom again. The scene caught my attention. “Discipline produces fruit, doesn’t it Lord,” I asked as I turned my heart’s gaze fully toward Him.
I glanced over at Marc and Teddy and then back to Him whom my soul loves as I thought about what the Lord was revealing to my heart. “Lord,” I whispered. “Make my response to your discipline like Teddy’s. Help me to learn from it and to look to You and move in so close to you that I am in contact with you. Help me to stay in step with you. Thank You for reeling me in at those times I have allowed something to distract me from You, and I have run off after it. Thank You, Lord, for Your discipline.”
We walked in quietness, my heart overwhelmed by His presence. I turned my gaze up to Him, and He reached down and touched my heart with His nail-pierced hand, and I moved in closer, so close I could feel His very presence, and I never wanted to leave His side. Joy!
How about you, my sweet friend? What is your response to the Lord’s discipline in your life? Read Hebrews 12. Then look up and move in. Look up at the One who calls you His own, and draw closer to Him. Oh the blooms that will appear in your life as a result.

An original Conversations at the Well
By Diana Morgan
© Copyright by Diana Morgan September 16, 2010

LIMITLESS HOPE

2010-09-19T15:10:00.001-07:00

LIMITLESS HOPE
"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure." (Hebrews 6:19 NIV)
Have you ever found hope inside the grocery store? I spotted Him in the isle of household cleaning products, and He appeared to be reading labels. Marc continued a bit further down the isle to pick up our preferred laundry soap, but I drew near to the One for whom my heart beats, and He directed my gaze to the particular label He was studying.
The bottle was red, and in bright, large letters across the front were the words "LOADS OF HOPE." Directly below that in much smaller print were how many loads there were. "Hmmm...," I said with a chuckle, "it looks like you only get 42 loads of hope."
"Don't settle," He said. "Huh?" I replied, leaning in so I wouldn't miss anything He said.
"Don't put your hope in the things of this world. Put your hope in Me." He finished. I thought about all the things people around me put their hope in: government, money, material things, their children, their spouse, their careers, their physical health, and even religion. I pondered all these things in my heart as we went through the check-out line and then home.
As soon as the groceries were put away I headed down the familiar path to the well. I arrived at the well and Perfect Hope was waiting there for me. His Book was open and He had marked some places He especially wanted me to read. So I took off my shoes - the ones I wear on Saturdays to run around doing all my chores - and I took my place at His feet.
My heart grew still as He talked with me about Hope. Here is some of what He shared with me. Why don't you kick off your shoes of busyness and sit a few minutes with Him too?

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." (Romans 15:13 NIV)

"To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory." (Colossians 1:27 NIV)

"He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and He will deliver us. On Him we have set our hope that He will continue to deliver us." (2 Corinthians 1:10 NIV)

"And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us. (Romans 5:5 NIV)

I remained quiet as I pondered hope. I had heard about different kinds of hope. There was little hope, diminished hope, crushed hope, vain hope, empty hope, and lost hope. I had even talked with people whose hope had died. As I thought of these kinds of hope, the laundry soap label came to mind, “LOADS OF HOPE…42 loads.” I looked at Him who is Eternal Hope and asked, “Lord, why would anyone choose hope that only goes so far and then runs out?” A picture formed in my mind of someone hurrying to the place where their hope was kept only to find their hope gone. An ache for those who had this kind of hope began to form deep in my heart.
In that moment He drew me very near Him and said, "If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him" (John 7:37-38).
I thought about a thirsty world that didn’t seem to know what they needed to satisfy such a thirst – a thirst of the soul. How would they know? Following my train of thought, He said, “You are salt and light.” I thought about that for a moment, and then moving in a bit closer to Him, said, “Sometimes, I don’t feel very salty or like I have much light. In fact, there are times my own hope seems to be a bit low.” “That’s the trouble,” He said. “What is?” I asked. “Your own hope; it’s no hope at all. Lasting hope is only found in Me. Come to Me,” He finished.
I’m not sure why, but our talk made me think of another woman who had met Him at a different well long ago. Knowing my thoughts, He softly said, “Her hope had run out.” Gazing up at Him, I said, “But then You gave herYour hope.” I thought about her, and then it occurred to me, she had run back to town casting light and salt on everyone she met, and then she led those heart-thirsty people to Jesus. “Then they believed for themselves,” He said.
It was then the Master Weaver took the threads from Romans 5:13 and John 7:37-38 and turned them golden as He skillfully wove them into the fabric of my heart, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him. …so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” “Oh,” I cried as my heart sat up. “I too must come to You every day. You will fill me with Living Water and with Your hope. Then as I go about in a thirsty world, the power of the Holy Spirit will cause me to overflow with hope.” “Salt and light,” He said.
I lingered a while, drinking deeply at the Well of His Presence. When I stood to put my shoes of busyness back on, I saw that He had replaced them with shoes of hope. My heart smiled broadly as I put them on, they felt so much better than shoes of busyness. I walked the path, my feet shod with the hope He had given me; not a hope like the world gives, oh, no. His hope doesn’t end after 42 uses. It can’t be crushed and it can never die. It’s glorious, living, limitless hope.
A little later, as I was going about finishing my chores for the day, I found a note He had tucked into a corner of my heart, and I sat down and read His Words – they were from Psalm 62:5-8. I decided to turn them into a prayer.
Father, give me rest for my soul – the kind only You can give. You alone are my hope, my rock, my salvation, and my fortress, so I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor depend on You. You, Lord, are my mighty rock, my refuge. Help me to trust in You at all times. Help me to pour out my heart to You, for You are my refuge. Amen. Feel free to borrow my prayer if you want to.
Later that night, I stopped by the well and found a note He had left for me. “Daughter, thank you for the prayer. Will do it.”

Dear one, are you running low on hope? Are you unsure where you left it? When was the last time you stepped out of the busyness and spent some time with Him who is our Living Hope? What kind of shoes are you wearing today? Perhaps yours are shoes of sorrow, rejection, guilt, depression, fear, worry or anxiousness. Do you hear His voice thunder through your soul, “Come with Me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” (Mark 6:31) And after you have drawn away and sat with Him a while, you'll find He has exchanged the shoes you wore for shoes of hope; glorious, limitless hope.

An Original Conversations at the Well
By Diana Morgan
© Copyright September 18, 2010

Having a Heart That Sticks

2010-08-07T12:07:00.000-07:00

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as my daughter and I headed out into the darkness on our morning run. As we ran, my thoughts began to stir and turned toward my new job at the church. I was just beginning my second week in my new position and it still felt a bit strange. A smile touched my lips as I recalled the first day in my new position. I pulled into the church parking lot and without even realizing it pulled into my old parking spot. It had been automatic. Even two weeks in, I was still prone to turn down the hallway toward Children's Ministries. The pathway of the familiar beckoned and I had to be intentional in walking the new path set before me.

I wondered why God didn't just make the new path He had laid out for me feel as comfortable as the old. I thought about my friends in children's with whom I had worked so closely for eight years and now, though we were still friends, the relationship had changed - it was different and in some ways to turn from the familiar to the new was painful. A host of other thoughts began lining up at my heart's door, clammoring for my attention. Would I be successful in my new position? What if this wasn't really what I was supposed to do? What if I had made a mistake? As these thoughts paraded through my mind, my daughter and I crossed the bridge just before turning into the park when suddenly we heard a strange sound.

Elizabeth and I looked at each other, large question marks in our eyes as we wondered what the noise was that seemed to be following us. Looking down I spotted the culprit. I had stepped on something that appeared to be some sort of adhesive and it was stuck fast to the bottom of my running shoe. I tried stomping as I ran but it stayed with me. I drug my foot, but it didn't come off. We ran through grass and sand but it stuck to my shoe like glue. I ran uphill and so did the tape. I turned a corner, it was still there. I changed directions but it wouldn't let go. We ran through puddles of water but it did not loosen its grip - it held fast.

Finally, stopping, I bent down and grabbed hold of the tape and pulled it off of my shoe. Looking at Elizabeth, I said, "Wow. That was really sticky. It didn't want to let go of my sole." We continued our run and the words "sticky" and "sole" seemed to dance through my thoughts. "I love sticky hearts," He said. My heart looked up breathless as He who loves perfectly drew me into His presence. I love that I can be running on the outside but sit at the Lord's feet on the inside, don't you?

"Err, sticky hearts?" I asked, uncertain what He was trying to tell me. "You need to stick to me just like that tape was stuck to you," He said. I closed the eyes of my heart and tried to envision being stuck to the Lord's foot. I thought about all the different places He would travel and the ever changing terrain. I thought about what a "Lord's-foot level" view of the world would be like as together we went up hill and down hill, around bends and through valleys. Sometimes we would travel the same path for a while until it became comfortable, like a favorite pair of shoes, and then He would change directions and head into new and unexplored lands. I thought about things that might try to separate me from Him: sharp rocks of doubt or puddles of difficulties, oh, and deep, gritty sand! "ugggh. I hate sand," I whispered. Then I wondered if I would fall off his foot just as the tape had come off my shoe when pulled hard enough.

My heart looked up into the eyes of the One who knows from eternity past to everlasting as He spoke of some of His followers who when things got difficult, fell away (John 6:41-66). "Daughter, do you love me more than these?" His voice rumbled through my heart, shaking my soul awake, so I could hear His every whisper. I recognized the words Jesus had said to Peter as they had walked along the shores of Galilee. The Lord's words touching Peter's broken places and restoring him so He would follow Him anywhere (John 21:15-18).

My heart felt ashamed then as I realized I had drug my feet to follow Him into the new places He was leading me. I had longed for the familiar. I had wanted to return to what I knew, to walk the familiar shores of my comfort zone, just as Peter had. My heart bent low in worship, and as I worshiped Him something wonderful happened. He took my heart in His nail-pierced hands and I whispered, "Lord, is it sticky enough?" He pressed His presence against my heart until it stilled and rested and trusted in the One who promised never to let me go. "Lord," I whispered. "What is it, daughter," He asked. And though I knew He already knew what I was going to ask I asked Him anyway. "Lord, give me a heart that sticks to You." The eastern sky turned pink with the promise of a new day as His eyes danced and His voice thundered as He said, "Daughter, you are mine. I know you. You know my voice. No one can snatch you from me. Follow Me."

Dear one, do you have a heart that sticks to the Lord no matter what or a heart that has turned away? Are you ready to follow Him eagerly anywhere He leads or are you longing for the shores of the familiar? Read John 21:15-19. End your time by reading Romans chapter 8. O beloved, the Lord loves a sticky heart that attaches itself to Him and gladly goes with Him everywhere He leads. Be still. Do you hear Him? He is calling you, beckoning you to run to Him in all your "stickiness" Will you ask Him anew to give you a heart that sticks? This would be a great time to have a conversation with the Lord about all that is in your heart.

An original Conversations at the Well
Copyright By Diana Morgan
August 7, 2010

Follow the Leader

2010-07-21T07:15:00.000-07:00

…how long will you waver…if the Lord is God follow Him.
1 Kings 18:21 NIV

I was just about to settle into a corner of the trailer to read when my husband asked if I was going to get dressed. I looked up from my comfortable chair just as he was putting on his riding boots. We had arrived at Stoddard Valley a couple of hours earlier to get in one last weekend of camping before the heat of the desert summer hit. It was a cloudy day and the wind rocked the trailer as a few raindrops pattered against the window; reading and perhaps a nap were more what I had in mind. But looking into my husband’s eyes I saw hope of an afternoon spent riding so I got up and went to put on my riding gear. Twenty minutes later my dirt bike rumbled to life and with my husband leading the way I let out the clutch and turned the throttle and followed him; leaving my comfort zone behind.

The trail we were on was pretty wide and smooth and I began to relax and shifted my bike into second gear. But as I assumed a place of comfort my husband left the trail and headed off into the open desert. “Where is he going?” I thought to myself as I turned my bike and followed after him. A large jackrabbit darted out from some creosote bushes and right behind him ran my sense of security as I rode not knowing where my husband would lead me next.

I rode through the desert following him as he turned onto another trail. There were twists and turns and obstacles but I kept my eyes firmly fixed on my husband and mirrored his actions as we rode. I followed him up hill and once at the top we parked the bikes and took a walk up an embankment where we stopped to take in the view. The valley stretched below us, the surrounding hills were blanketed with wildflowers and blooming cactus. It was breathtaking. My husband slipped his arms around me and kissing my forehead said, “You are doing really well.” His encouragement fueled my confidence and I suddenly felt very brave as we got back on our dirt bikes.

The bikes roared down the hill and I stood up, my feet firmly planted on the pegs as we rode through a series of dips at the bottom of the hill and I found myself laughing with delight. As I followed where my husband lead it seemed to me we were in unison; standing, leaning, turning and riding in perfect harmony. We had a wonderful afternoon exploring trails together; when our campsite came into view I was sad to see our adventure come to an end and as I got off my bike I was already looking forward to continuing the adventure the next day.

My husband and I stood holding hands in the cool desert morning, heads bowed, eyes closed. The wind whipped around us as if doing its best to interrupt our time together at the Lord’s feet but my husband’s voice was steady and strong as he asked He who loves us to give us safety during our ride and fun together as husband and wife. I love hearing my husband talk with the Lord about us. We put on our helmets and I climbed on my bike with a smile on my heart as I put the bike into gear eager for the adventure that lay ahead.

The eagerness quickly turned to apprehension as my husband turned and headed in the opposite direction of where I thought we were going to go.

While I wanted adventure, I wanted it to be the same adventure we had shared yesterday. “He didn’t ask me if this is where I wanted to go,” I muttered to myself. I barely finished my complaint when we turned onto another trail and there before me lay deep sand. “Arrrgh”, I exclaimed as my bike began to fishtail and I hit the brakes which I knew was the opposite of what I should do. The front tire dug into the sand and I had to use my legs as I turned the throttle to try to get moving again. As I started to move ahead I saw a large prickly bush on the right and knew I did not want to hit it; but as I focused on not hitting it; the bush apparently sensed it and turned on its tractor beam and drew me in and the very thing I didn’t want to do, I did as I smacked into it. The bush tried to take me down as one part of it grabbed hold of my boot while the other jammed in the gear shift. I was pulling myself free when my husband arrived and asked if I was okay. “I hate sand,” was my reply. “Remember to keep your speed up and then you will go right over the sand instead of digging into it,” he said in his most patient instructor voice. As I pulled the remaining plant off my bike I looked at my husband and could see his eyes were smiling from behind his goggles as he said, “Isn’t this fun?” As I started my bike and struggled through the sand I thought, “Fun is not the word I would use to describe this.”

I tried to put my husband’s instructions into practice as I picked up speed and it was easier but I still felt out of control as the rear tire would wobble a bit as I turned corners and my heart was somewhere in my throat as my apprehension grew. Suddenly the sand became a landmine of rocks as they protruded randomly on the trail. “Great!” I said, “Why on earth did I ever take up dirt bike riding?” I asked myself as my bike seemed to find every rock hidden in the sand. But as I bumped along and saw my husband up ahead I remembered the reason very clearly and I knew the Lord had brought it to mind in this moment. I had prayed for it. Oh not specifically for dirt bike riding but for time with my husband. I wanted us to grow closer and so I became very diligent in my prayers about it. My husband had taken up dirt bike riding and I began to pray that he would desire to spend time with me. Well, he did but he wanted me to ride dirt bikes with him.

I remembered when he first suggested I learn to ride and I declared most emphatically that I would NEVER ride a dirt bike. But as time passed and I continued to pray for time with my husband, the Lord impressed on me that He wanted me to go riding with my husband. In fact, it became a matter of obedience. I remember telling my husband that I would learn to ride a quad but his reply was, “No. No quads. I want you to ride a dirt bike because two wheels are safer than four.” That did not make any sense to me. To my way of thinking four wheels seemed much safer than two; more stable; more predictable. But my husband persisted and the Lord kept whispering to my heart that He wanted my marriage to grow too but He wanted to do it from a dirt bike. And so my husband taught me to ride and before I knew it I had a bike of my own.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted as I saw a large hill up ahead and at its base a mote of large rocks. I watched as my husband flew across with rocks flying as he sped to the top of the hill. He turned looking down at me expecting me to follow but instead I put on the brakes and put my boots firmly on the ground. There was no way I was going across those rocks or up that hill. My husband soon realized I was not moving nor did I appear to have any plans for moving in the near future so turning his bike around he came down the hill and motioned me to follow him. I fell in line behind him relieved to have escaped the hill of doom.

As we rode, the freeway came into view in the distance and I wondered if I could hike there and get a ride back to camp. A newsflash suddenly played in my mind, “Wayward dirt biker found on freeway. Story at 11.” I rejected the great freeway escape and followed my husband over a very rocky trail. It turned this way and then that and went uphill and then downhill. We came up out of it and he pulled to the side of the trail, shut his bike off and removed his helmet. “This is great!” he exclaimed. “I love the hills and turns”, he finished. I looked at him as I said, “I’m more of a flat-land, straight road, no rocks, no sand kind of gal myself.” He looked off into the distance as he said, “Life isn’t like that. Life is like a rollercoaster.” “Well”, I said, “I don’t like the rollercoaster. I’m afraid of the rollercoaster.” He looked at me as he said, “Embrace your fear. Fear is the invitation to courage.” This made me laugh as I playfully socked him in the arm and asked him where he had heard all these one line words of wisdom. He didn’t answer but simply kissed the end of my nose and put his helmet back on.

We rode off down the trail in a cloud of dust and flying rocks. I tried hard to quell my fear but it just wouldn’t leave me alone. We continued down the rocky trail and descended into a canyon. There were sharp cacti along the trail and large boulders everywhere and my body jarred with every turn of the wheels. “Lord!” I cried and I hurried to the well as fast as my heart could go. “What’s wrong?” He asked as He looked at a map of some kind. I wondered what it was a map of as I proceeded to tell Him what was wrong. “I don’t think I can dirt bike ride with my husband anymore,” I blurted out. He was quiet so I continued with my whining about the trails and the big rocks and the deep sand and the towering hill of doom. “You liked it yesterday,” He replied. “The trails were easy yesterday and I thought we were going to go the same way today or I never would have come. And do you know he didn’t even ask me if I wanted to go this way!” I finished, certain He would be sympathetic and give me permission to stop following my husband. He didn’t.

Instead He said. “How long will you waver between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow Him.” I recognized the words from His book – they were from 1st Kings. “Why are you riding dirt bikes with your husband?” He asked. I sighed as I knew He already knew the answer but I said it out loud any way. “Because you told me to,” I finished. “Who is your husband following?” He asked. “You,” I replied. “That’s right,” He said. Then He put a finger on my heart and began to quiet my fear as He spoke about what it meant to follow Him. Then He said, “Follow the Leader.” I was about to ask Him what He meant when I noticed my husband had disappeared over a hill and when I arrived at the top I slid to a stop.

I looked down as the hill was steep and about half way down it turned sharply to the left and protruding all the way down were rocks. I sat there on the hilltop staring down at the obstacles that lay on the trail ahead and found myself longing for the familiar trails of yesterday. It was then I saw Him fly down the hill on a dirt bike not sold in any earthly store. His eyes burned like fire as He rode and He called out as He passed me, “Follow the Leader.” I saw Him ride just past my husband and then turn around and look up at me; bidding me to follow Him. I let the clutch out and slowly eased up on the brake and the bike moved down the hill I squealed all the way down to the bottom where my husband was waiting and he gave me a high five as he said with a voice filled with pride, “you did it!”

We continued on but had not gone far when we were met with a beautiful sight. We removed our helmets as we took in the scene that lay before us. On either side of the trail there were dark red rocks and in the center; coming up out of the trail were huge boulders of quartz; they were brilliant white. We had never seen anything like it. As we put our helmets on and started up our bikes it occurred to me that I had almost missed it and I wondered how many other treasures I had missed because I was afraid to follow the trail; afraid to follow the leader. His voice thundered across my soul then as He said, “You can’t know what might have been. Follow the Leader,” He said.

There it was again, that funny phrase He kept saying, “Follow the Leader.” I put my bike into gear and pulled out behind my husband. I watched him as he expertly rode over the rocks and sand and I mirrored his actions. He stood up then as we came to some dips and I stood too. It was then my sometimes slow heart began to understand what He who gave all for me was trying to teach me. Following Him would sometimes be scary and there would be times the trail would be unfamiliar and I would have no idea where He was leading me; it would be filled with obstacles and sometimes hills of doom would loom up before me but as I mirror Christ and stand with my feet firmly planted on the pegs of His Truth I can follow Him in complete confidence, being carried along by the Holy Spirit who lives in me.

I laughed as we sailed through a series of dips and I even think I caught a little air and in the midst of my laughter I saw Him. He who loves me was just ahead of my husband leading the way and I realized in that moment we were following the Lord. I smiled as His words thundered through my soul, “Follow the Leader.”

The Lord may never ask you to ride a dirt bike but I do know He asks each of us to follow Him. Is there something the Lord has asked you to do that you are afraid to do? Write it down.

Look up 1 Kings 18:21 and read this verse slowly. My friend, are you wavering? If the Lord is God, follow Him.

“He went out, not knowing whither he went.” Hebrews 11:8
The Bible is filled with ordinary people called by God to follow Him and in following Him extraordinary things happened. Tonight we are going to read about a young girl named Hadassah also known as Esther. Turn with me now to the book of Esther (just before the book of Job in the Old Testament.)

Please read this story from beginning to end. Allow the Holy Spirit to stop you; keeping in mind that Esther followed God.

Answer the questions below as we go.

What had happened to Esther’s parents? (Esther 2:7)

What ethnicity was Esther?

Where was Esther taken? Verse 8

Little Hadassah loses her mother and father through death and goes to live with her uncle Mordecai. She has just settled into her new life when she is carried off to the king’s palace. Look out, Esther has left the familiar trails and God is leading her into the unknown.

Can you think of a time in your life when you were just settling in to life and suddenly the trail turns and you veer off into the desert where nothing is familiar? Take some time to journal about it.

How long did the beauty treatments last?

When Esther’s turn came to go to the King what did she ask for? 2:15

Read on, dear friend.

In chapter 3 a plot is unveiled. What group of people was the plot against?

Who thought the plan up?

According to Haman’s plan, what would happen to the Jews?

How does Mordecai find out about the plan?

The towering hill of doom has risen up out of the desert and Esther is headed straight for it!

In Chapter 4 Mordecai sends word to Esther about the plot to destroy the Jews. What is Esther’s response to Mordecai?

What was Esther’s response back to Mordecai in 4:10-11?

Read carefully verses 13-14 focus in on what Mordecai says to Esther.

Do you feel the tension mounting? Esther has just arrived at the top of the hill and is looking down the other side; it is steep and filled with obstacles; even death. But Esther sees Him; the One she calls LORD and He is bidding her follow.

Take a moment and think about the beginning of this lesson. You know, that thing God has asked you to do that you don’t want to do so you are pretending not to hear Him. My friend, what if He has brought you to this point for such a time as this? Oh maybe you won’t save an entire people but what if by following into the unknown people came to know Christ. For such a time is this…

Read chapter 4 verses 15-16. I can visualize this scene in my mind. Esther is at the top of the hill looking down with danger and probable death at the end but as she sees the Lord in the midst of it all she lets out the clutch, eases off the brakes and she goes down the hill screaming all the way. “If I die, I die.” (But I’m going to follow Him anyway).

Go ahead and finish reading the story. I’ll see you at the end.

Look up Deuteronomy 1:34-36. Who did the Lord say would receive what He had promised?

Why was Caleb going to receive the promise?

He followed the Lord wholeheartedly.

Let’s finish our time together by reading Hebrews 11:1 – 12:3

My dear friend, are you following the Lord with your whole heart or are you stuck in the sand somewhere or have you skidded to a stop before the towering hill of doom? Have you ridden to the top of the hill and all you see below you are obstacles? But wait! Do you see Him? He’s standing at the bottom of the hill and He is bidding you to follow? Will you do it? Come on. Let out the clutch. Ease up on the brake and go down the hill in complete obedience to Him; even if it means you are screaming all the way down. There is reward in obedience to the Lord; just ask Caleb. The Lord has a plan for you (Jeremiah 29:11) but it requires you to follow Him; follow the Leader.

An Original Conversations at the Well
© by Diana Morgan May 2009

FATHER

2010-07-15T06:02:00.000-07:00

“For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of son-ship. And by Him we cry, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs, heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ (Romans 8:15-16).”
The wind moved through the cypress trees, their branches waving as though greeting one another in the mid-morning sun. They’d stood for hundreds of years dotting the grounds surrounding the great house. Dignitaries had once discussed important matters beneath the stately boughs, but where once was heard the voices of powerful men a new sound was heard; the sound of children.
As the children’s voices filled the morning air, a girl emerged from the garden. The sun danced across her short black hair causing it to shine in its light. Her frame was small, her face delicate and her eyes were beautiful: almond shaped and black as coal. Normally her eyes were guarded, protecting a heart that bore deep scars of being abandoned and unwanted and she wore an expression of resignation to the fate of unwanted, girls in China. But today was different. In her arms she carried a package and in her eyes hope.
The call had come for her right after breakfast to go to the office of the director. The director’s words still rang in her ears, “Mai, you have been chosen.” Mai’s eyes had been big question marks as the director went on to explain that seven months earlier a family in America had seen her picture and wanted her to come be a part of their family. That wasn’t all; the family had written Mai a letter. She sat quietly as the director read the letter to Mai written by a man and a woman who wanted Mai to come and be their daughter. They wrote of how they saw her picture and loved her right away. They talked about their home and of how they were preparing a place for her.
They wrote of longing to know all about her and how they already knew how she loved to read, play games and write poetry. They knew about her interest in bugs. They even knew that her favorite color was green because praying mantises were green and they were her favorite bug. They went on to describe the room they were preparing just for her. There was a large window in her room that looked out at the garden and next to it was a writing desk where she could pen her poems. There was a large bookcase with some books already in it, but lots of room for her to add to the collection; and there was a shelf that held games they knew she loved, but also some that they loved to play and looked forward to teaching her.
The letter ended with words of encouragement penned from the one who called himself “father”. He wrote: “Dear Daughter, how good it sounds to call you that; though now you are loved from a distance, soon you will be drawn near. You do not know it, but my thoughts of you began long before this letter was written. You do not need to wait until you reach your new country to begin your new life; already it has begun, for you see I have adopted you into my family. I have written it down and signed my name. You are my daughter. I have a surprise for you, Mai. I have a new name for you and when I come for you I will whisper it in your ear.” The letter ended with a promise that soon they would be coming to take her home.
Mai sat on her bed and took the pictures of the people who were now her family from the envelope. Tears filled her eyes and suddenly she picked up the pictures, the letter, and even the envelope, and clutching them to her chest she ran to the window and looked out across the property of the orphanage, and she smiled. Nothing appeared different yet everything had changed. She was part of something bigger than Mingshaw Orphanage. It stretched across China and across a big ocean to another land. She was no longer an orphan, she was a daughter.
The months that followed were filled with excitement, anticipation, and packages. Mai’s family sent her small toys, books and clothes, and they often included small gifts for her friends and even for her housemother, Shesu. Mai loved the letters tucked into every package. She hung on every word as Shesu read them to her, and at the end of each one her father wrote a special message just for her, his daughter, and always ended with the assurance that soon he would come for her. A funny thing was happening to Mai; as time passed the orphanage no longer felt like home--her home was in another country and she longed for it. Each morning she woke up and wondered if this would be the day they came for her.
It was spring and a gentle rain patted against the window, and Mai stood with her face pressed against the glass watching intently. The room behind her was alive with activity as other children who also were meeting their new families played, but Mai didn’t want to miss anything so she stood and watched. A squeal of delight suddenly escaped her as she saw two familiar figures on the sidewalk outside. Though she had only seen images, she knew them. Her new parents entered the room and were welcomed by the director, and as instructed, Mai waited for the director to motion her over so she could make the introductions.
The director turned her gaze toward Mai and nodded, and Mai began to walk in their direction; but as she neared, the one called father knelt down and opened his arms to her, and smiling said, “Daughter.” That’s all he said, and Mai flew into his arms and melted into his chest, and then her mother joined in the embrace and the room disappeared, and it was only Mai and her family. And then just as he promised, in a gentle voice overflowing with emotion, Mai’s father whispered into her ear a single name, “Elizabeth.” Two weeks later Elizabeth Mai Hart sat in a seat between her mother and father as the jumbo jet sped down the runway, and she sat up tall and looked out as the airliner left the ground, leaving behind the old, and before her lay all that was new.
The car pulled into the circular drive, and Elizabeth looked out the window at the house nestled in the pine trees. There were birdbaths in the yard and birdfeeders hung from a few of the trees. A squirrel chattered noisily from its lookout on top of one of the feeders and Elizabeth giggled as it scurried up the tree and disappeared among the branches. There were wildflowers that were almost as tall as she was, and butterflies joyfully fluttered from one bloom to the next. Her eyes danced with wonder as her attention was drawn back to the house. She glanced at her parents, and with smiling faces they beckoned her to follow them inside her new home.
She was speechless as they explored each room. When they arrived at the last room, she recognized it right away from the many pictures they had sent. She walked through the door, eyes wide with wonder. The walls were a very pale shade of green and the bed was adorned with a green and yellow patchwork quilt that her mother had made for her. Her mother opened the closet and Elizabeth stood looking at the new clothes that hung there, just her size. She looked at the bookcase and the game shelf, and then slowly walked to the writing desk where a journal and pens and pencils and colored markers lay waiting for her to write of her new life. Standing next to the journal was a picture of her mom and dad holding a picture of Elizabeth the day they learned the adoption was approved. She reached out and gently touched the frame and then looked at the large picture window that looked out over the garden. She was overwhelmed. She turned to her parents as a large tear slid down her cheek and her father immediately bent down and asked what was troubling her. She threw her arms around his neck and whispered, “Baba (daddy).”
Evening found the little family holding hands at the dining room table and Elizabeth watched her parents as they closed their eyes and her father prayed. Elizabeth had a good appetite and ate her fill of the wonderful food, and she listened to her parents talking, and she would occasionally chatter in Chinese. She pointed to each dish and they told her the names of the foods they were eating, and she did her best to repeat after them. They laughed when she wrinkled her nose at the spinach, and her father wrinkled his nose, too. Later they sat in the living room playing a game called Sorry, but her head began to nod and her eyes closed, and so her father picked her up and carried her to bed. They stood for a long time looking at her sleeping so peacefully. Their daughter was where she belonged, in her father’s house.
Elizabeth was home-schooled and a fast learner. It wasn’t long and she was speaking English quite well. Her favorite subject was reading. She loved her parents and enjoyed to the full all that her father provided for her. Elizabeth grew and thrived in her father’s house. She lived each day with confidence and full assurance in who she was and to whom she belonged.
One late, chilly November afternoon, Elizabeth and her friend, Abigail, who lived up the road, were sitting in an apple tree pretending it was part of a magical kingdom. It was getting dark and they saw Elizabeth’s father come out into the driveway calling her name. Elizabeth started to climb down the tree when Abigail pleaded, “Oh, don’t go.” Elizabeth never hesitated when her parents called, she always responded right away. Why wouldn’t she? “I have to go,” Elizabeth said, emphatically, “My dad is calling me.” Abigail argued, “He’s not your real dad.” “What?” Elizabeth asked, uncertain of what her friend was trying to say. Abigail went right on to explain exactly what she meant. “You are just adopted. You don’t really belong to them. Everyone knows that. My brother Timmy said that sometimes adopted kids get sent back to the orphanage if they aren’t good.” Abigail’s mother came out just then and Abigail scurried down the tree and went home, leaving her wounded friend behind.
“Elizabeth!” Her father called more firmly this time. Elizabeth climbed down the tree and her father met her at the end of the driveway. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer as he continued, “You left your bicycle in the driveway. I nearly ran over it when I came home from work. Are you supposed to leave it in the driveway?” he finished. She began to shake her head in response to him but as they entered the house they heard her mother call out from the backyard, “Elizabeth Mai Hart!” Elizabeth began to worry, as it was never good when Mother used her full name. Her father opened the back door and went out, and Elizabeth walked very slowly outside in the direction of her mother’s voice.
Her mother was standing in the flower garden, or rather where the flower garden used to be. A few feet away were pails and shovels where she and Abigail had been attempting to build an imaginary castle. They had trouble getting the dirt to stay put, so Elizabeth had turned on the hose so they could get the dirt wet and it would hold together better. But Abigail said she saw a rabbit at the side of the house, and so they had run after it, leaving the running water behind. They had decided to climb the tree to see if they could find the elusive rabbit, and that’s when they started playing imaginary kingdom. The forgotten water had flooded the garden. The bulbs her mother had planted for spring were submerged, and some had no doubt washed away. Elizabeth stood before her parents guilty as charged, desperately trying to think of a good reason for her forgetfulness, but unable to think of any she just stared at the ground.
Breaking the silence her father said, “Elizabeth, please go inside and get cleaned up. We’ll talk about this after dinner.” Elizabeth left her parents behind to deal with the water and mud and went inside. As she closed the bathroom door behind her Abigail’s words flooded her nine-year-old mind, “…adopted kids sometimes get sent back to the orphanage if they aren’t good.”
She began to worry and fear crept into her heart. She remembered what happened just last week when she and her mother had stopped at her father’s office downtown. Her mother had asked her to run in to give an envelope of important papers to her dad that he had forgotten at home. She had taken the elevator to the third floor and was headed to her dad’s office when a man had stepped between her and the door and told her she could not disturb her dad, he didn’t have time to see her. The man had taken the envelope from her hand and sent her on her way. “He’s not your real dad.” Abigail’s words played over and over in her head. As Elizabeth stood looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror she no longer saw Elizabeth Mai Hart, daughter. She saw Mai Diannuo, orphan.
She left the bathroom and went to her bedroom, and still covered in mud and dirt she closed the door. Abigail’s words were shouting through her mind now as she looked around the room. She suddenly felt so out of place. She went to the closet and turned on the light and crawled on her hands and knees to the back corner until she found a large box. She dragged the box out of the closet, removed the lid and began going through it until she found what she was looking for.
She hesitated a moment but then made her decision, and carefully removed the clothes her dad had bought her on a special father-daughter date just last month, and folded them carefully and laid them on the bed. She then put on the clothes from the box. The shirt was too small and no longer went all the way to her waist, and the pants were too short and she couldn’t get them buttoned. But she didn’t care that they no longer fit, and then stuffing her feet into shoes that were too small, she crept out into the hallway and then out the front door; the very door she had entered clothed as a daughter, she now exited clothed as an orphan and disappeared into the darkness.
Mai walked as quickly as she could, frustration, worry and fear choked her and tears spilled down her cheeks. She was uncertain how long she had been walking when she realized the familiar things of home were gone, and she knew beyond a doubt that she was lost. She kept walking until she came to a cluster of trees, and just on the other side came to a campground. It appeared to be empty and she took a seat on a park bench. Her feet hurt and her old clothes were uncomfortable, the pants were cutting into her waist. She shivered and she thought about her parents and wondered what they were doing. They were probably eating dinner. After dinner they would sit in the living room and drink hot cocoa and play games in front of the fire. She loved to hear the logs crackle and pop and watch the way the flames danced and changed colors.
She closed her eyes and could see her dad’s face. She loved the way his eyes got all crinkly at the corners when he smiled. But Abigail’s words pushed their way to the front of her thoughts and shouted at her, “He’s not your real dad! You are an orphan and orphans get sent back when they are bad.” She shivered and pulled her knees to her chest in an effort to get warm. Her stomach growled, and looking around she spotted something on a table a few campsites away. She got up and walked over and found remnants from a picnic. She picked up a dried piece of bread and put it in her mouth. It was stale but at least it was food. She found a few more pieces of stale bread and put them in her pocket for later and returned to her place on the bench. She curled up in a ball on the bench to keep warm and fell asleep, unaware that someone had left the warmth and comfort of home to look for her.
She did not hear the footsteps draw near or the sound of the broken heart of a father as he watched his beloved daughter shiver in the cold on a campground bench. He gently wrapped a blanket around her, and as he did, something fell from her pocket--pieces of stale bread. Pain filled his father-heart and tears spilled from his father-eyes, as he knelt by the daughter for whom he had sacrificed much and traveled across the globe to make his own. She had turned away from his abundant provision and chose for herself instead a place of discomfort, cold, stale bread, and orphan’s clothes.
As he knelt there, the love that gave all to make her his daughter, the love that sent him a world away to bring her into his presence, to make her his own, filled him and he spoke the words of a father; words written in a letter that proclaimed a father’s love. “Dear daughter,” he whispered in her ear. “How good it sounds to call you that, though now you are loved from a distance, soon you will be drawn near. You do not know it, but my thoughts of you began long before this letter was written. You do not need to wait until you reach your new country to begin your new life; already it has begun, for you see I have adopted you into my family. I have written it down and signed my name. You are my daughter.”
As he spoke she opened her eyes, and as the words he spoke filled her heart, they overcame the words of defeat and doubt that had caused her to turn away from a father’s love. She believed his word. She believed his father-ness. She knew then that Abigail’s words, or the man at the office, and even her own failings, could not keep her from her father’s love. She sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, and as he lifted her once again from the ground of fatherlessness and held her near she heard the heartbeat of a father’s unsurpassed love and she whispered into his ear “Baba” (Daddy),” and he carried her home.
Dear one, I cannot tell you the number of times I have found myself looking in the mirror and instead of seeing me, the daughter, I see the orphan. I drag out that box from the musty corner of the closet and before I know it I have shed the clothes of blamelessness and holiness that the Father gave me, and find myself pulling on the clothes of my orphan days. Funny thing is, I’ve grown since then and they don’t fit me anymore. But there I am, jumping up and down trying my best to squeeze into those pants of world conformity, and doing my best to button that shirt of shame, and squeeze my feet into worry and fear, and I sneak out the door that I entered as a daughter and I disappear into the darkness clothed as an orphan.
I’ve run in those uncomfortable clothes until the familiar things of the Father can’t be seen by my orphan eyes any longer and I end up on the campground bench. I’m hungry, and instead of dining on the feast that the Father has prepared for me, I dine on stale bread and even stock up for later. I am thankful to say that as I spend time in His presence and walk through my days with Him and take in the food of His Word, a wonderful thing has happened. Just as healthy food nourishes my physical body and keeps my hearing and vision sharp, His Word nourishes my soul; it sharpens my spiritual hearing and vision, and as He does His work in me I see myself through the eyes of my Father more and more.
Sound familiar to you? Do you recognize your “orphan” tendencies? Have you found yourself shivering in the cold curled up on a park bench in the darkness, with nothing but stale bread in your pockets? Dear one, do you hear it? The footsteps of the Father. Do you hear His voice? He speaks His wonderful Words of Fatherness. Listen to Him. “Dear daughter”, He whispers in your ear. “How good it sounds to call you that, though now you are loved from a distance, soon you will be drawn near. You do not know it, but my thoughts of you began long before this letter was written. You do not need to wait until you reach your new country to begin your new life; already it has begun, for you see I have adopted you into my family. I have written it down and signed my name. You are my daughter.” As you hear His voice and His life-giving Words penetrate your heart, open your eyes and wrap your arms around His neck as He lifts you once again from the ground of fatherlessness and cry out “Abba” daddy. You are His daughter.

COME DOWN

2010-05-31T15:39:00.000-07:00

“When Jesus reached the spot, He looked up and said to Him, ‘Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.’ So he came down at once and welcomed Him gladly” ( Luke 19:5-6).

Has the Lord ever asked you to come down?

“I’m sorry, Mr. Emery but indoor recreation is full; we don’t need any more volunteers for that area. But we do need third grade shepherds.” Bob Emery stood looking blankly at the young woman as she told him what he didn’t want to hear. He didn’t want to be a shepherd. It had taken all his will just to volunteer at Summer Spectacular at all. He had been sitting in church, minding his own business, ready to enjoy the message as one of the pastors talked about the Children’s Ministry event of Summer Spectacular (vacation Bible school) and their need for volunteers. He let the words go right past him, certain they did not apply to him. But then the Lord nudged his heart. So reluctantly he took the flier from the worship folder. As his eyes moved down the list he stopped at indoor recreation. This seemed the safest. Play a few games with the kids and be done; no risk. Being a shepherd was the one thing he did not want to do; he was not shepherd material, he was sure of it. And now he stood at the volunteer registration area being asked to do the one thing he had already decided he would not do.

He was about to decline and walk away when suddenly the Lord was standing next to Him, peering at the volunteer form Bob held in his hand. Bob glanced at the woman behind the table and wondered if she noticed the Lord’s presence and what would His reply be if she asked Him to be a third grade shepherd? “Lord, I don’t know anything about being a shepherd,” Bob began, but before he could continue with his list of “why-not” he heard the Lord’s voice; you know the one that is able to cut through anything, even excuses: “Come down, Bob.” He had become very familiar with this phrase the Lord seemed to love using these days.

He recalled the first time the Lord had spoken those words to his heart. He and his wife Peggy had just moved to the desert and were looking forward to their retirement years. They quickly settled into their new community and found their church home too; everything was falling nicely into place. It was a Sunday morning, and he and Peggy sat enjoying the service when one of the pastors talked about the importance of being in a small group. He was sure the pastor was not speaking to him, he had been a believer most of his life, and besides he was retired; retired people go to golf games not small group. The next morning as he sat having his quiet time out on the patio he read about Zacchaeus, and when he got to verse 5 where the Lord looked up at Zacchaeus and told him to come down so he could go with him to his house, a thought had come to Bob’s mind and he quickly jotted the question into the margin of his Bible. He wrote: Does God call us to come down? Just then Peggy poked her head out of the French doors and said, “Bob, phone call.”

Bob made his way to the den, still pondering the question of whether God calls us to come down. “Bob, this is Jerry from church. We have several couples in your area who signed up to be in a small group, but there isn’t a small group out that way. Judy and I both thought of you and Peggy right away and think you would be great small group leaders. Will you do it?” Bob’s immediate reaction was to begin making an excuse for why he and Peggy couldn’t lead a small group, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, the Lord’s voice rumbled through his heart as He said, “Bob, come down.” It was then Bob realized that since retiring he had climbed up a tree full of excuses as to why he couldn’t serve the Lord, and the Lord was now calling him to come down. “Jerry, the answer is yes. Peggy and I will be glad to serve as small group leaders.” Bob hung up the phone and called to Peggy to join him on the patio. He told her what the Lord had just revealed to his heart. She threw her arms around him, and kissing his cheek said how glad she was that he had chosen to come down. That was only the beginning. Every time Bob thought he had things figured out the Lord would ask him to come down; especially if it had to do with his comfort zone.

And here he was again, with the Lord calling him to come down from yet another excuse tree. So taking a deep breath, Bob filled out the Summer Spectacular volunteer paperwork, checking the box next to third grade shepherd. He handed it to the young woman behind the table, who thanked him and assured him the area leader would contact him in the next few days. “Well”, he thought to himself, “perhaps they will misplace my paperwork and the call will never come.” What he couldn’t see through his human eyes as he walked away were the other hands; the nail-pierced ones that were directing the papers where they needed to go, nor could he see events unfolding in a little house two cities away.

Emily pulled the blanket tighter over her head in an effort to muffle the shouts coming from down the hall. She heard her father shouting and her mother pleading. Nine-year-old Emily could not take any more, so she opened her window, and pushing the screen away just enough, she squeezed through and dropped to the ground. She ran across the backyard and climbed the ladder up to the tree house. As she climbed, her imagination took off and she imagined she was climbing not into a mere tree house, but a tree in a different land. In this new land there was no anger, no shouting, no sadness and no death. She imagined he was here with her now as she sat cross-legged on the floor, pouring glasses of imaginary ice-cold lemonade. She was just beginning to share with him tales of her latest adventures when her mother’s voice rose up from below, “Emily, it’s time to eat.” As she climbed down the ladder the magical land of imagination gave way to the land of harsh reality as she followed her mother quietly into the house.

She carefully looked at her father through the bottom of the glass as she drank the rest of her milk, and then wiping her mouth she looked at her mother, who simply nodded, which was the signal she should leave quietly and go to her room. Her father didn’t look at her as she left the table; he never looked at her anymore. She wanted to cry out to him, “Daddy. Daddy, please look at me. Please hold me again, Daddy, like you used to when… when he was here.” She hurried quickly and quietly down the hall to her bedroom and closed the door, careful not to make any sound that might set her father off in a rage. She got ready for bed and then went to the bedside table and took a picture out of the drawer. Getting into bed she pulled her flashlight out from under her pillow, snapping it on as she pulled the sheet over her head, the picture held tightly in her other hand. She looked at the happy scene. Her dad was laughing, her mother smiling, and Eric and Emily stood together, each with a hand on their baseball trophy.

Three days after that picture was taken she and her twin brother Eric, along with their dad, were playing catch in the yard. Her dad hit a pop-up fly ball and Emily had shouted, “I’ve got it!” Well, she didn’t get it, and the ball had sailed into the street with Eric in hot pursuit. He didn’t see the car coming, and it was all over in an instant: Eric was gone from them in the blink of an eye. Emily closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the cold glass of the picture as she cried quiet and frightened tears. “Please, somebody help us,” she pleaded into her pillow. It was all her fault. If she had only caught that ball Eric would be here now and everything would be as it should. Her father wouldn’t be angry and her mother wouldn’t cry in the middle of the night anymore. They would be a family again, if only….her thoughts trailed off as she fell into an exhausted sleep.

The weeks passed and Bob and Peggy prepared for their roles at Summer Spectacular: he as a third grade shepherd and she as part of the TLC team. They had their entire small group participating as well, and they found themselves looking forward to it. The big day finally arrived. Bob got up early, poured a cup of coffee, and went to the den to meet with the Lord. He sat down and He and the Lord talked about the week ahead. “Lord, I feel so inadequate for this. Please help me to be a good shepherd to the kids placed in my care this week. Please bring the kids to my group you want me to minister to. Help me to rely on you every step of the way.” As he finished he heard the Lord’s tender voice say, “I will never leave you or forsake you, Bob.”

Peggy’s arms wrapped around him just then and she whispered into his ear, “Bob, you are going to be a good shepherd.” Then looking at the shelf above the desk where a picture of a handsome young man in uniform stood, she quietly added, “He would be so proud of you.”
Bob’s voice cracked as he said in a voice so quiet Peggy could scarcely hear him, “I miss him, Peg.” She took a seat on Bob’s knee and he wrapped his arms tightly around her as they looked at the picture of their son Brad. He had given his life on a lonely road in Iraq nearly three years ago now. “Oh Father,” was all Bob could say. Peggy snuggled in closer to her husband as she whispered, “Bob, God knows our pain. Remember, His Son died in a foreign land, too.” There in the den as soft morning light fell across the room, the Comforter did His work and strengthened these two hearts dearly loved by God, and prepared them for what lay ahead.

Emily had circles under her eyes from another long night. Her parents had fought again and this time a neighbor called the police. It had been 3:30 in the morning when the police had finally left. Emily fidgeted as her mother ran a brush through her hair, and told her to hurry and get her shoes on. She was being sent somewhere with the Jordan family kids across the street, Summer something or other at their church. Emily did not want to go anywhere. She felt worried for her parents. The police had never been called before and Emily knew things were getting worse and not better. Her mother would not relent and under assurances that she would be fine, she put Emily into the backseat with the Jordan children and tried to smile as she waved goodbye, but her heart broke as she saw the great sadness in Emily’s eyes as they drove away.

Bob stood holding a sign up high that said “3rd Grade”. The doors opened, and the auditorium was suddenly filled with parents taking their children to the appropriate grade. Bob immediately felt like dropping the sign and heading for the nearest exit, but instead he called on the One he knew could help him, and the Lord reminded him of His promise that He would never leave him or forsake him. Bob imagined the promise was underneath his feet at this very moment and envisioned standing on that unshakeable promise from the Lord, and the sense of panic left him just as a group of kids came his direction. Mrs. Jordan introduced herself, and then her son Jeff and a neighborhood girl named Emily. Bob held out his hand and little Jeff shook it heartily, but when he extended his hand to Emily she just stood there, and that’s when he saw it: the great sadness in her eyes. Other children arrived then and Bob’s group grew to ten third-graders. Bob stood with his mouth hanging open as the band began to play and the auditorium sprang to life. He had never seen anything like it -- 1,200 children dancing and singing about God. He looked over at his kids and smiled at the wide-eyed wonder on their faces, and a thought struck him then that God must be smiling, too, right about now. His attention was drawn to the little girl with the sad eyes as she sat in the middle of the row looking utterly lost.

All around her kids were dancing and singing, but Emily sat very still. She had nothing to sing about; no reason to dance. She wanted to cry, not sing. The music stopped and the lights went down and a story began to unfold on the stage. She watched quietly as they talked about being transformed, and there was a machine called the transforminator. Emily wondered if it worked on families. She listened intently, as they were told how true transformation could not be done simply by changing the outside, but from the inside out, and that change could only come from God. They talked of knowing God’s Son Jesus. Emily had never heard anyone talk about Jesus before; she had only known the name as a bad word. The end of the morning arrived, and the band came out again and sang about how God had made and formed them. She sat quietly taking it all in.

That night after dinner, a very weary Bob and Peggy sat in the living room sharing their thoughts about the day. Bob ended by telling Peggy about his group of kids, and then he spoke of Emily; the little girl with sadness etched into her face. “Perhaps she is why God chose you to be a shepherd,” Peggy said as she reached for her husband’s hand, and together they went to their knees to pray for little Emily and her family. As their prayers rose up, a little girl with sad eyes lay in bed thinking about God, and His Son Jesus who had died. And then she very softly began singing the song about how God had formed her and made her, and she fell asleep wondering if there was a God and if He really loved her.

Tuesday found Bob holding the sign once again as one-by-one his kids arrived, and he smiled when he saw Emily enter the auditorium. She actually appeared to be hurrying to get to her seat. As he pinned her nametag to her shirt the music began, and while the band played Emily still sat, but he noticed her finger was tapping, keeping time to the music. The day flew by, and that night Emily’s mother crept into her room, and as she bent to kiss her precious daughter she noticed something in her hand; it was a flier about a free family concert to be held Wednesday night. She set it on the night stand and wondered if perhaps she should try to take her daughter to the concert. She had heard her singing earlier – a sound she hadn’t heard in a long time. She tucked the memory into a corner of her broken heart as she turned out the light and closed the door.

That night Bob and Peggy spent quite a while praying for Summer Spectacular. They prayed for the musicians, and for the children’s pastor and their staff, and all the volunteers, and then they prayed for the family concert, and then they prayed for Emily and her family. Bob’s sleep was filled with strange dreams. He was in an unfamiliar land and he could hear explosions coming from somewhere in the distance. There were buildings lying in ruins, and then he saw Emily. She had apparently climbed up on one of the old buildings and was standing quite precariously on the edge. Suddenly there was an explosion in the building across the street and Bob felt an urgency to help Emily, and that is when he noticed him. At first Bob thought he must be a soldier but as the man stretched his arms up toward Emily he saw them, the deep dark scars in the center of each hand, and then the Man cried out; his voice shook the heavens: “Emily, come down!” Bob sat bolt upright, sweat mixed with tears running down his face. He was deeply shaken. He grabbed his Bible and headed to the den and spent the next 2 hours talking to God about Emily and her family. He especially prayed for the Salvation message that the children’s pastor would be sharing with the children on Thursday. He earnestly prayed that Emily would be one of those who would respond to that message by receiving Christ. It was 3:40 am when Bob finally climbed into bed, and as he drifted off to sleep he wondered about the dream and what the Lord was calling Emily to come down from.

Bob slept unaware of the effect his prayers were having, as a man in a little house two cities away paced the floor. Jim ran a hand over his face and then through his hair as he tried to calm himself. He was losing it. He loved his family but it all seemed to be unraveling and he felt powerless to do anything to stop it. He played the scene again and again in his mind: of hitting the pop-up fly ball, and then his precious son running out into the path of the car, and he couldn’t stop it. “My son, my son,” he sobbed into his clenched fists. And then every time he saw Emily, it was like a knife through his heart. He felt accused, guilty and condemned, every time he looked at her; and so he had simply stopped looking at her. Then there was his wife, Carol. She was one of the most gentle people he had ever met; not a mean bone in her body, but he would fly into a rage when he saw her; the deep hurt in her eyes was more than he could bear. He had tried grief counseling but it brought no relief and added to his frustration, so he quit going. His emotions were swirling and he felt it was all building with nowhere to go; something had to change, and soon. That’s when he heard it; the singing.

The sun was casting its first light through the living room window, and seemed to carry with it the soft voice as it sang. Jim listened, and followed the sound down the hallway and stood outside Emily’s door. “God made me. God loves me,” she sang. He pushed the door open, and she immediately stopped singing as she clutched something tightly to her chest. He walked over, asking her to hand him what she was holding, and reluctantly she placed the picture in his outstretched hand. Jim looked down at the picture of the four of them; his son smiling, with his hand on the trophy. Jim lost it and threw the picture to the floor, shattering the glass, as he stormed out of the room. Carol heard the commotion and left her bedroom and followed Jim out to the kitchen where he continued his tirade. She tried to calm him; to find out what had happened. “Don’t you get it, Carol?” Jim asked. “She is a constant reminder of Eric’s death. I can’t look at her without replaying that horrible moment again and again and again.” As the words made their way through the house, they found their mark and pierced a little girl’s heart. Emily sobbed quietly as she picked up the pieces of her broken family and tenderly placed them in tissue paper, and tucked them inside her backpack. Emily opened her window and squeezed the backpack through first, and then she climbed out the window and hurried across the yard to the tree house.

Bob kept watching the auditorium door, but Emily didn’t come. He wondered where she was and what had happened to keep her away. He and Peggy stopped off for lunch on their way home, and he told her about his dream and then how Emily hadn’t been at Summer Spectacular that day. Peggy listened intently and then suggested Bob call Emily’s parents and let them know she was missed today. “That’s a great idea,” Bob said as he squeezed his wife’s hand. They finished lunch and hurried home; Bob had an important call to make.

The phone rang and Carol hurried to answer it as she didn’t want it to wake Jim. Too late…Jim walked in as she put the receiver to her ear and said, “Hello?” “Hello, my name is Bob and I am Emily’s shepherd at Summer Spectacular. She was really missed today and I wanted to call and let her know that, and also to invite you to the free family concert tonight at 7:00. My wife, Peggy, and I will be there and we would love to meet you; and Emily has seemed to enjoy the music; plus, it is a great way to spend the evening together as a family.” Bob waited for a reply but when none came, he decided to be bold as he asked, “Will you come?” Carol heard herself say, “Ummm, yes. Yes, we will be there. 7:00, you said? Yes. We will see you then.” She hung up the phone, wondering how she could convince Jim to go anywhere, let alone a concert -- free or otherwise.

“Who was that?” Jim asked. “That was Emily’s shepherd from Summer Spectacular. You know she’s been going this week with the Jordan’s kids. He was just calling to say they missed her today, and also to invite us to the free family concert tonight at 7. Emily has been singing the songs around the house; it’s been nice to hear her singing,” she finished. Jim remained quiet, and then he walked out to the living room and stared out the window in the direction of the tree house. His mind was churning. On the one hand he didn’t want to go anywhere; on the other, his daughter couldn’t stay in the tree house forever and he had to do something. He’d been everywhere else so maybe going to this concert at the church would be a good thing. “Alright,” he heard himself say. Carol was so surprised, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment by saying the wrong thing, so she simply said, “Okay” and left the room.

Bob and Peggy sat toward the back of the auditorium so Bob could keep an eye out for Emily and her family. The band began to play and Bob sat back as he realized they probably weren’t coming; but then a flash of pink caught his eye, and he spotted Emily with her bright pink backpack. She sat with her parents toward the back, on the opposite side of the auditorium from where he and Peggy were sitting. The concert was a huge success. It was such fun watching the parents and kids singing and doing the motions together. He glanced over at Emily and her parents from time-to-time; they didn’t sing and they didn’t do the motions. The musician shared about some difficult times he had been going through with his family, but still he praised God. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room as he shared his heart and spoke of a God who loves and is worthy of praise, no matter what is going on in and around us. The children’s pastor shared a short message after that, and then more music followed. The concert ended, and families left the auditorium together, laughing and still singing. Bob looked over to see Emily and her parents still sitting in their seats.

Bob and Peggy walked over, and Emily looked up as they sat down in the row in front of them. “Hi, I’m Bob and this is my wife Peggy.” Carol introduced herself and her husband Jim, and then she fell silent, looking at the carpet. It was Jim who broke the silence as he asked, “Do you know this Jesus that guy was talking about?” Bob was taken aback and wasn’t prepared for the directness of Jim’s question. He scanned the auditorium looking for the pastor. He spotted him down front, talking to a group of people and looking like he would be a while. As Bob continued to look for someone else to answer Jim’s question, he heard the Lord say, “Come down.” “Okay, Lord. Please give me the words to say,” Bob prayed quietly, and then taking a deep breath he jumped in with everything he had. “Yes, Jim. Yes, we know Jesus.”

Jim’s voice shook with emotion as he told Bob and Peggy about Eric, and about how their life was coming apart, and they didn’t know what to do or where to go. Bob and Peggy sat holding hands as they listened intently to the heartbreak this dear family was going through, and oh, how well they knew the pain they were experiencing. It was then that Bob took out his wallet and showed Jim, Carol and Emily a picture of their son Brad. They told of the phone call they had received that their dear son had been killed on a lonely road in Iraq. Bob shared how their hearts had broken as they thought of their boy dying alone in a foreign land, surrounded by enemies and away from those he loved. But then Bob’s voice filled with hope as he shared about another Father, whose Son had also died a horrible death on foreign soil, surrounded by enemies. Jesus had died for their sins and on the third day He rose again. He ended with John 3:16: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life”.

Bob was quiet then, allowing time for the words to sink into their hearts. In the stillness, Bob remembered the dream about Emily standing precariously on the edge of the ruins, and he thought he heard the Lord’s whisper thunder through the auditorium: “Come down.” Emily’s voice sounded small as she asked her question. She looked directly at Bob and Peggy as she spoke. “God’s Son Jesus died for my sins?” “Yes. That’s right, Emily,” Bob replied. Emily continued, “Well, if my sin caused His Son to die, then how can God stand to look at me? Aren’t I a constant reminder to Him of His Son’s death?” She finished. You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed such a question by a nine-year-old. Bob got down on one knee so that he was eye level with Emily as he spoke. “Emily, your sin caused you to be separated from God, which means you couldn’t be with God, and God very much wanted you with Him. Remember the verse I told you? God loved. God gave. Once we come to know Jesus, God no longer sees our sin because Jesus took it all with Him on the cross. The Bible tells us that if we confess our sin, God is faithful and just to forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. God loved. God gave,” he finished. “So we are transformed?” Emily asked. Bob nodded. “I want to ask Jesus into my heart,” Emily said.

It was then that Emily opened her backpack, and kneeling down on the carpet, she tenderly unfolded the tissue paper, revealing a once picture-perfect family now lying in brokenness. That was all it took, and Jim broke down sobbing, grabbing hold of Bob’s hand and whispered from the depths of a father’s shattered heart, “I want to know Jesus, too.” And there in the back of the auditorium they knelt, as three people prayed and gave their lives to Jesus. When they finished Jim turned to Carol and asked her to forgive him, which she gladly did. Then father knelt and wrapped his daughter tightly in his embrace and whispered words of love into her ear. In response, Emily tenderly picked up the tissue paper and lifted them up and placed them in her father’s hands, and as Bob watched, he thought he saw another Father’s hands underneath Jim’s as Emily took all the broken pieces and left them there in her Father’s hands.

My friend, are you up a tree? Perhaps yours is a tree of un-forgiveness rooted in a hard heart. Maybe you are up a tree of distraction and out on a limb of busyness. Maybe you have climbed the tree of legalism and you have climbed out on the limb of good works. Maybe you are like Bob in the story, and you are keeping God at arms length – giving Him limited access. Maybe you are in the treetops of grief. Perhaps you are like little Emily. You have been hurt by your earthly father and don’t understand a heavenly Father. Perhaps you have asked the same question Emily asked, “How can God stand to look at me?” Jesus stretches out His arms as He responds, “Daughter, I love you this much.” See the nail prints in His hands?
Do you recall Emily’s question to Bob?
Emily’s voice sounded small as she asked her question. She looked directly at Bob and Peggy as she spoke, “God’s Son Jesus died for my sins?” “Yes. That’s right, Emily”, Bob replied. Emily continued, “Well, if my sin caused His Son to die then how can God stand to look at me? Aren’t I a constant reminder to Him of His Son’s death?”
Look up John 3:16. I realize we all know this verse forward and backward, but please look it up and look at the words. Think about them as you read them.
God loved.
God gave.
As you sit in your tree do you see Jesus approaching, and as He reaches the base of the tree He stops and looks up and says, “Come down.” What will you do? Before you answer, remember: The King of Glory came down. He set aside His glory and slept in a feeding trough for livestock in a barn in Bethlehem. Scripture is full of moments where He came down to meet one-on-one with the unwanted, the unlovely, the cheats, the scoundrels, the adulteresses; inviting them to come down and know the One who came down for them. He lay aside His own will and was arrested, humiliated, beaten unrecognizable, crowned with thorns thrust into his precious head, mocked and made fun of. And then He dragged His cross to a hill outside of town and He lay down on a rough cross and stretched out His arms – the arms that embraced children, the arms that welcomed those the world turned aside, the arms that set the world in motion and hung stars. Spikes were pounded through hands – hands that touched the untouchable. Hands that healed. Hands that fed the hungry. He laid down His life. Why?
The answer is simple: God loved. God gave.

An Original Conversations at the Well story

Diana Morgan

ONLY JESUS

2010-05-03T21:32:00.000-07:00

Peter sensing something crawling on his face brushed his cheek. Just as he was fading back into sleep he felt the annoying pest on his ear and determined to put an end to the crawling creature’s attempts to wake him once and for all. Smack his hand came down on the side of his face and then laughter rose up and with that Peter sat up to see James and John laughing and in James’ hand Peter spied the annoying pest; a plant stem. “Very funny,” Peter said with a yawn.

John stood and grabbed hold of Peter’s arm, helping the big man to his feet as he said, “Come on mighty fisherman, Jesus is making breakfast and he wants us to eat and then we are heading out.” Peter stretched and asked, “Where are we going?” John replied as he turned to follow James who had already sprinted across to where Jesus was sitting before a crackling fire over which breakfast sizzled. “I don’t know, but he wants to leave as soon as we eat.”

Peter slid his feet into his sandals and made the short walk to where the three men were waiting for him. The fish smelled delicious and suddenly Peter realized he was starved and quickly took a seat next to John. “Good morning, Peter,” Jesus said with genuine gladness in his voice. “Good morning,” Peter replied as he accepted the fish from Jesus’ hand. They waited for Jesus to give thanks for the food and then they dove in to the meal with gusto.

They finished eating, gathered up a few things and headed out into the foothills. The early morning air was cool and a bit of a breeze carried with it the sweet fragrance of spring. “A perfect morning for walking,” Peter thought to himself as he caught up with his friends. They talked a while about nothing in particular; mostly old fishing stories. Jesus then turned and began leading them up the mountainside.

James and John were a few paces behind Jesus and Peter slowed his pace and began thinking of how different his life was since he met Jesus. Everywhere Jesus went he caused a stir. The lame walked. The blind saw. Lepers were cleansed. People were being changed by this man. Peter had observed firsthand those who encountered Jesus. They came away hating him or loving him but no one left his presence without impact. He wanted to be around him to hear everything he said but more than that now; he wanted to be like him.

It was not always easy. Jesus was increasingly challenging him about everything he’d always thought or known about God, about life about what was and wasn’t important. Jesus had turned his world upside down and inside out. Yes, that was one thing Peter knew for certain; you could not know Jesus and stay the same. His thoughts turned to six days earlier when he and the other disciples were with Jesus in Bethsaida. Peter could be, well, impulsive. He didn’t always think things through before he acted or spoke. He thought he had Jesus and his mission pretty well figured out. He thought Jesus would be with them forever and that the rest of his life would be spent working alongside this man. Well, he was partly right.

It began with a simple question. Jesus asked the disciples who the people were saying he was. The reply was that some said he was John the Baptist while others said he was Jeremiah or Elijah or perhaps one of the other prophets. Then Jesus looked at each man whom He had chosen and asked “And what about you? Who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter looked Jesus in the eye as he answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of God.” What Jesus said next Peter could not even begin to grasp. Jesus had put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, looked into his eyes and said, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, because my Father in heaven has revealed this to you. You did not learn this from any human being. Now I say to you that you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and all the powers of hell will not conquer it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of Heaven; whatever you lock on earth will be locked in heaven, and whatever you open on earth will be opened in heaven.”

Then Jesus had told them not to tell anyone he was the Christ. Peter shook his head at the memory. How could he expect them not to tell anyone who he was? After all, He was Messiah; the One they had waited for and now He was right here with them walking up a mountainside. He returned to his thoughts; kicking a stone as his memory stung with what had happened next. Jesus explained to them that soon he would go to Jerusalem and there he would suffer and then be killed and on the third day be raised to life again.

Somehow Peter did not hear the being raised to life again part; instead he had focused on the suffering and being killed part; it was more than he could stand. Even now his hands clenched at the thought of anyone trying to kill him. Impulse took over and he pulled Jesus aside and with great passion declared, “”Heaven forbid, Lord. This will never happen to you!” He thought he was being noble. He wanted Jesus to know that he had his back and that he would protect him. Jesus had put out a hand stopping Peter where he stood; but it wasn’t his hand that had stopped him but the look on his face and then the words. Jesus said, “Get away from me, Satan! You are a dangerous trap to me. You are seeing things merely from a human point of view, and not from God’s.” Peter stood in stunned silence. Once again Jesus had taken what had appeared to be right and challenged him to see things from God’s perspective and not his own.

Jesus then drew him in with the other disciples and said, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must put aside your selfish ambition, shoulder your cross, and follow me. If you try to keep your life for yourself, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for me, you will find true life. And how do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul in the process? Is anything worth your soul? For I, the Son of Man, will come in the glory of my Father with his angels and will judge all people according to their deeds. And I assure you that some of you standing here right now will not die before you see me, the Son of Man, coming in my Kingdom.”

“My friend, I think you are getting too old for climbing mountains.” John said bringing Peter back to the present. John slapped Peter good naturedly on the back as he said, “Come on! Hurry, Teacher is asking for you.” Peter and John picked up their pace and quickly caught up with James and Jesus and a few minutes later they reached the mountain summit. Peter, James and John, weary from the climb sat down on some boulders as Jesus walked a short distance from them. They assumed he was going to pray as He often did. Nothing could have prepared them for what they saw next.

As they watched Jesus walking away from them, his appearance changed. It was strange; not a change on the outside but more like something from the inside changed his outward appearance. His face shown like the sun and his clothes became so white they defied description. Suddenly there appeared out of nowhere two men and on looking more closely Peter recognized them. He leaned over to John and said, “Do you know who that is standing and talking with Jesus? It’s Moses and Elijah!”

His focus had turned from Jesus to Moses and Elijah. Every fiber of his being was screaming for him to get up and do something. He was hoping he would get to talk to them. There was so much he would love to ask them. Suddenly an idea came to him and jumping to his feet he said in a voice loud enough for all to hear, “Lord, this is wonderful! If you want me to, I’ll make three shelters, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He was going to continue but before he could a cloud enveloped them. It was a cloud unlike any he had ever seen. It came suddenly and it had a kind of luminescence about it. He opened his mouth to say something to James but before he could a voice came from the cloud. The voice was indescribable. He could not pinpoint its direction. It seemed to come from everywhere and yet nowhere; the very mountain seemed to rumble with the power of it. “This is my Son, marked by my love, focus of my delight. Listen to Him.”
Peter fell face down. The big man lay quietly every limb trembling in awe and wonder and emotions he couldn’t identify; his hands clenched as he struggled to cling to the mountaintop. His heart was pounding in his ears. He lay there as the words spoken sank in and he knew he had heard God’s voice. “Listen to Him”, God had said. As Peter lay motionless the hand of Jesus rested on his back and he said, “Get up. Don’t be afraid.” Peter slowly lifted his face out of the dirt and with God’s words still echoing in his ears he looked around and then his eyes came to rest on Him; the One marked by the Father’s love, the focus of His delight. Yes, he had seen remarkable things this day. He had seen Moses and Elijah but nothing compared to Him. All distractions were gone and the only one his eyes saw was Jesus, only Jesus.

And then they descended the mountain with Jesus leading them into the valley…but that’s another “Conversation”.

An Original Conversations at the Well
© Copyright Diana Morgan 2009

The Lonely Place

2010-05-03T07:27:00.000-07:00

Today during my quiet time my heart came to rest on Luke 5:16 But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.

I closed my eyes and my heart could see the scene. The verses before paint a picture of ministry in full swing as we see Jesus teaching, touching the unclean, healing the sick, strengthening the weak, the walking wounded, the dying, the tired. News about Him spread like wildfire and crowds came. They wanted to be near Him. They wanted to touch Him. But Jesus withdrew to the lonely place to have a conversation with His Father – to pray.

I recently began a study called Passionate Prayer written by my friend Catherine Martin. I had read the book last summer and enjoyed it immensely. A few days ago I saw a post from her on Facebook inviting people to engage in the study of Passionate Prayer online. I decided to sign up. As I began the study I realized how hungry I was for conversation with the Lord. Life is moving at breakneck speed and ministry never stops. My prayer life had become a series of quick pleas for help and strength instead of intimate heart-to-heart conversation that poured from my heart to the One who had pursued me through my dark night of the soul and set my feet on the rock.

Reading Passionate Prayer caused my heart to burn with the desire to slow down. I realized I had a deep longing for the lonely place; the place away from the crowd and the noise of the world: a place where I can hear the very heartbeat of the Father. I didn’t need to call the airline or book an island getaway. All I had to do was choose to step away from the busyness. I needed to withdraw to the lonely place like Jesus did and talk with my heavenly Father. My heart needed to sit with Him without seeking a new story to write or a mountain top experience. I needed to talk with Him. To tell Him I love Him. To listen to His gentle whisper thunder through my soul.

Most of us think of the lonely place as negative. I know people who go to great lengths to avoid being alone. They pack their days with “good” things that fill every moment. Oh but Jesus often withdrew to the lonely place to talk with His Father and we are to imitate Jesus.

This morning as the moon poured its soft light over the desert, I found myself walking the familiar path that winds through all the towering tasks and the needs and expectations of others and then the Well came into view and seated there was the One my soul loves. And my heart ran to meet Him there and we had a long heart to heart conversation there in the lonely place.

Yet the news about Him spread all the more, so that crowds of people came to hear Him and to be healed of their sicknesses. But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.
Luke 5:15-16

FAITH THROUGH THE FLOOD

2010-04-13T00:17:00.000-07:00

In the six hundredth year of Noah’s life, on the seventeenth day of the second month – on that day all the springs of the great deep burst forth, and the floodgates of the heavens were opened. And rain fell on the earth forty days and forty nights. On that very day Noah and his sons, Shem, Ham and Japheth, together with his wife and the wives of his three sons, entered the ark. (Genesis 7:11-13 NIV)

Darkness surrounded me with no hint of dawn yet visible on the horizon. I lit a few Butter-cream candles, their sweet fragrance filling the room as I sat at the Well to wait for Him whom my soul loves. As I waited thoughts began tugging at the back of my mind. I recognized them right away by the knot they tied in my insides and even as I sat I felt my brow crinkle in the center which in turn made my spirit feel weighed down.

Most of the things troubling me were out of my control. But that didn’t stop me from worrying about them anyway. Life had begun to feel as though I had a huge bunch of helium filled balloons in hand during a wind storm. The more I tried to hang on to all the strings the more they began to sway in the winds of circumstances and other peoples choices and one by one the strings had begun to snap. I sighed as I began to dwell on these “worry-thoughts” turning them this way and that; over and over. I was unaware as I sat in the pre-dawn stillness that a great cloud had formed overhead and drops of worry began to rain down on me until I was literally flooded with them; my heart submerged; the current threatening to sweep me away.

A passage of Scripture came to mind; something about taking every thought captive. I opened my Bible and found what I was looking for in 2 Corinthians 10:5 and I read it out loud, “We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” It was then I heard familiar footsteps. Startled, my heart looked around at all the unruly thoughts run amuck. I didn’t want the Lord to see me like this so I jumped up and splashed about in the waters of worry, scooping up the unruly thoughts and hurried to a far corner of my heart where I had been keeping the worries hidden away. I opened the lid and to my horror realized the storage place was filled to overflowing. His steps were drawing closer. “No time to clean this up,” I muttered, as I grabbed the edge of a worry trying to elude my grasp and quickly set it on top of the worry pile and closed the lid.

“What are you doing?” He asked. “Oh, just waiting for you.” I said, holding the cover down with one hand as I turned and quickly sat on the lid in an effort to keep my worries out of sight. “Come and walk with me,” He said. Oh how I wanted to jump up and follow Him but I was too busy sitting on my worries. If I walked with the Lord who would take care of my worries? It struck me then that I was worrying about worrying! It was then I remembered what a friend had said to me recently. It was a day I was wearing worry like a garment and she had pointed it out. The thought made me uncomfortable so I quickly pushed it aside and returned my focus to keeping my worries contained in the Lord’s presence. The lid jiggled a bit as the worries clamored for attention. I hoped He didn’t notice but who was I kidding. He noticed.

I followed His gaze and saw that my worry thoughts were poking out in every direction from underneath the lid. He came and sat down. It was then I noticed He was holding His Book in His hands. I sat quietly, expecting Him to speak about worry from His Word but my heart looked up in surprise as He read Genesis 5. It was a genealogy and I waited while He read the list of names of who had whom and how long they had lived. My ears perked up when He reached verse 21 and said the name “Enoch.” I knew about Enoch. He was a man known for walking with God. I could hardly wait for Him to get to my favorite part found in verse 24 which says, “Enoch walked with God; then he was no more, because God took him away.”

I had expected Him to stop and talk about that but He kept reading. Enoch had a son named Methuselah and he had a son named Lamech and Lamech had a son named Noah. I sat thinking about this genealogy as He proceeded to chapter 6 and began reading verse 9 which said, “Noah was a righteous man, blameless among the people of his time, and he walked with God.” My thoughts were dancing around in my head as they tumbled out. “Lord,” I cried. Enoch was Noah’s great grandpa! He laughed and then I laughed—I love laughing with Him, don’t you? So Noah took after his great grandpa: walking with God. Enoch had gone before Noah was born but still Noah must have heard many stories about great grandpa Enoch. And a spark deep in Noah’s heart had apparently been fanned into flame for the Lord.

As the Lord continued reading I tucked the golden nugget about Noah and Enoch into a pocket of my heart to ponder later. He told me how the world had been flooded by evil and how it grieved Him. I looked into the eyes of the One who gave all and saw something in them I could not describe—memories there from eternity past; things impossible to understand for human hearts. He went on to describe the ark and I could picture Noah taking notes on stone, and I giggled at the thought of me trying to remember all that detail about something I had never seen. I thought about how Noah had never seen rain and yet he did everything just as the Lord had told him. “Obedience,” I whispered softly and tucked the word into the same pocket of my heart that held the nugget about Enoch and Noah.

When He began reading chapter 7 verse 12, my heart leaned in closer not wanting to miss anything. “And rain fell on the earth forty days and forty nights. On that very day Noah and his sons, Shem, Ham and Japheth, together with his wife and the wives of his three sons, entered the ark.”

I pondered what He had read. God had provided their way of escape from the coming flood. They had been enclosed there. “Hmmm, enclosed in His provision.” Somehow that seemed important, so I tucked that phrase into the pocket of my heart with my other treasures. I sat quietly in the Presence of the One my soul loves and thought about Noah’s journey. It had begun long before He ever stepped foot on the ark. He had spent five hundred years cultivating an intimate walk with God
Then something the Lord said stirred in my heart, “On that very day Noah and his sons, Shem, Ham and Japheth, together with his wife and the wives of his three sons, entered the ark.” Hmm…together with his wife.” Not much is said about Noah’s wife. Pretty much all I knew was that she went with him into the ark. What did she think about it all? Did God tell her anything that He was doing? Did God give her assurance that all would be well? These thoughts stirred the flames of my imagination and I suddenly saw her in my mind’s eye. My lap top lay at my feet and I bent to pick it up as worries tried to distract me but ignoring their efforts for the moment I closed my eyes and my fingers found the keyboard and my thoughts sprang to life before me.

Leah stood and stretched before bending to pick up the cloth that held the seeds she had been gathering. She walked to where a large basket sat and carefully poured the seeds in with the others. She examined the remaining plants just to make sure she hadn’t missed any. “Finished,” she said to herself as she made her way back to the basket. She turned, taking in the view and decided to take one last walk through the garden.

She left the basket and slowly walked to the far corner. She loved this garden. She remembered well when they had settled here and she had chosen this little plot of ground as her own. Her husband, Noah was a farmer and all the rest of the land was his, but this little piece was hers, or at least had been. She walked to the seat that Noah had built for her in the corner underneath her favorite tree. In the spring there was a vine that covered the trunk of the tree; the yellow blooms looked like tiny flashes of light shining in the sun and oh the fragrance.

She and Noah had sat in the shade of this tree on many a summer evening watching the sunset after a long day of harvesting. All three of their sons had been married in this very spot. She took a seat on the bench and wondered how many times she had sat right here watching her husband walking through the fields talking with God. Noah was a godly and righteous man. She sat quietly, her heart full of memories too many to count. But one memory hung heavy in her heart. It was both precious and horrible all at the same time. Emotions came in a torrent and she looked off into the distance as it seemed too large a memory to be remembered in the confines of her garden.

The day had been unusually warm and she was kneeling down planting vegetables when Noah arrived. She looked up at him, squinting to make out his features in the sunlight. She would never forget the tone of his voice as he said her name. She recalled the sense of fear as it crept up her spine and her throat tightened and her stomach reeled as she immediately thought something must have happened to one of their sons. Shem especially was accident prone.

She reached for Noah’s outstretched hand and he helped her to her feet as he led her to the bench. She couldn’t read the expression in his eyes but it troubled her greatly. She began to worry before she’d even reached the bench to sit down. “Noah, what is it? What has happened?” She asked trying not to allow her imagination to run wild. Noah turned and picked up both of her hands in his as he spoke. He spoke slowly and she could tell he was choosing his words carefully. He went on to tell her all that God had said.

Noah finished and they sat in silence. It seemed to Leah that even the birds had fallen silent at the weight of the words. God was sending a flood to wipe out everything and everyone that lived on the earth. But Noah had found favor in the Lord’s eyes and they, along with their three sons and their wives would alone be saved. Noah was to build an ark. To refer to what was coming as a disaster was an understatement to say the least. It would sweep away everything she had ever known, including the garden in which she now stood.

Noah wasted no time getting started on the building project. He followed God’s plan to the letter. It wasn’t long and the neighbors noticed that Noah’s time was being filled by something other than farming. It was kind of hard to miss a giant boat in the yard. She smiled as she recalled the initial reaction of their neighbors. Noah used the opportunity to begin warning the people. He told them they needed to turn to God but they laughed in his face. As the years passed the taunts grew worse and even physically violent. They had become objects of scorn.

Noah preached what God had told him and the people grew worse, not better. No one showed any signs of softening. Evil seemed to have been unleashed. “Oh what a wretched place we live in,” she whispered to herself. She grew increasingly worried for Noah’s safety and that of her sons as well. Then she began worrying about other things. Would there be enough food to last them through the flood? Would they be able to fit all the animals and birds in the ark? Would they have enough food for the animals? Would the animals grow restless and break out of the enclosures? What if Noah or one of their children became ill? How did they know for sure the ark would float? What if it leaked? And what exactly was rain? These were just a few of the worries that plagued her days and troubled her dreams.

The day the ark was finished was bittersweet. While the ark was being built the flood had seemed like something in the distance, but to see it standing completed made it all very real. They stood looking at it, the wood gleaming in the sun. It was a stark reminder of what God was about to do. But more than that; as she stood there she realized it was a visible sign of God’s love and mercy toward a righteous man named Noah and his family.

A peal of thunder brought Leah back to the present. She had never heard thunder before and it reminded her that the flood was coming and time was short. Leah got up from the bench and hurried to pick up the seed basket. She gave a furtive glance heavenward at the black storm clouds that hung heavy in the sky as she lifted the seed basket and placed it on her right shoulder. She gave her beloved garden a last loving look before turning and heading in the direction of the ark. Noah spotted her and hurried to help her with the basket. A smile touched his lips. She was still lovely at 520 years old. He lifted the basket from her shoulder and took hold of her hand as they crossed the field to where the ark stood for the last time.

Leah looked into her husband’s eyes as they stood at the bottom of the ramp – searching his face for some assurance that God was indeed with them. He looked weary. The 120 years of building the ark had been hard physical work. Then there was the preaching that had only seemed to cause the hearts of the people to grow harder toward a God that had been merciful in waiting, giving everyone opportunity to turn to Him. In the end they rejected Noah’s words, rejected them and rejected God and His love. Noah took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead as he said, “Leah, it’s time to go.”

The words “it’s time…” seemed to hang in her heart as heavily as the clouds hung in the sky. “Time for what?” she wondered to herself. Time for the complete destruction of the life they had built? Time for the sweeping away of everything they had ever known. Time to leave behind all things familiar? Why hadn’t God told her what the plan was? And suddenly worry, mixed with fear flowed out of her heart and down to the very soles of her feet and held her fast to the ground on which she stood. All the “what if” thoughts she’d hidden inside seemed to hit her like a flood.

As she stood there submerged in worry she caught sight of Noah inside the ark. His head was bowed and she knew he was talking to God. As she watched she thought about Noah and his life. He had always followed God. He loved him. He worshiped Him. Noah trusted God and believed him. She had watched as he trusted God’s protection over him as he took God’s message to a horribly wicked people. He didn’t just say he trusted God, he lived it out every day and the ark was a towering testament of Noah’s walk with God. As these thoughts went through her mind she suddenly felt ashamed by her lack of trust which was evidenced with each worry.

She turned her attention to the ark. As she followed the curves of the base all the way to the top she began to see it in a new light. God had designed it and tasked her husband to build it. God’s design was big enough to hold two of every animal in existence along with all the food and supplies required, and one God-follower and his family. God’s design was strong enough to withstand the coming flood. God’s design was trustworthy. God Himself was trustworthy. As she thought about all the things the ark was designed to hold and do a thought occurred to her. It was also designed NOT to do things. It was designed not to leak. It was designed not to fail. It was designed not to fall apart under the strain and pressure of the flood. As she thought about all that God had designed the ark to do and not do another thought seemed to be whispered across her heart, her worries could not go with her into the ark. There wasn’t room for them inside God’s provision.

As she took her first steps of obedience she pictured the worries falling from her one by one as she walked. She left them in a heap at the bottom of the ramp to be washed away in the floodwaters by God Himself. Noah met her as she stepped into the ark of God’s provision and He wrapped her in his arms and God’s voice seemed to whisper to her very heart, “After the flood, there’s life.” And the Lord shut them in.

I closed the lid to my computer and looked up to see Him whom my soul loves looking off into the distance. I followed His gaze and saw a cross. It struck me then as I looked at Jesus and then at the cross that He was the provision – He was the only way to be saved. Not only that but through Him I had life. “Walk with Me,” He said. I realized then that I was still sitting on my worries but wanting to walk with Him, I opened the lid very carefully and picked up all my worries intending to take them with me on our walk. When I turned I found myself standing at the foot of the cross and Jesus stood holding out His hands, the ones with the dark scars in the centers. “Daughter,” He said, “If you are walking with Me those can’t go. Here, let me take them,” He said. I stood in His presence there in the shadow of the cross, my worries in my hands and began to tell Him about each one. Some of them made me laugh as it seemed silly there with Him to worry about such trifles. Others were harder to talk about and brought tears. One by one I laid them in His nail-pierced hands. It took a while but soon it was done and the worries were gone.

When I finished we spent the rest of the day walking together. I never wanted to stop. I thought about my grandsons and wondered if one day they would say, “I remember Grammy D. She walked with God.”

Later, as I lay quietly in bed thinking about our conversation that day I knew there would be more floodwaters to go through but God’s provision for me through His Son Jesus surrounded me and I was safely tucked in His hand so let the floodwaters rage. And as the land of dreams crept into my room cloaked in moonbeams I heard His voice sweet and low, “There’s life after the flood.”

An original Conversations at the Well
By Diana Morgan
© Copyright April 12, 2010

Faith Through The Flood

2010-04-06T18:18:00.001-07:00

…on that day all the springs of the great deep burst forth, and the floodgates of the heavens were opened. And rain fell… Genesis 7:11-12

Have you ever experienced a flood? When we hear the word “flood” most of us think of the devastation left by hurricane Katrina. But hurricane Katrina was a puddle compared to what the world experienced in Noah’s day. Can you even imagine such a flood? Not a speck of ground anywhere was visible. Not a treetop. Even the highest mountain peaks were submerged. But Noah’s journey of faith began long before the first raindrops fell.

My dear friend, are you caught in a deluge in life? Is everything you hold dear submerged and out of sight and out of reach? Are you being swept away by floodwaters of doubt, fear and uncertainty? Do you feel adrift? Perhaps God has asked you to do something that just doesn’t make any sense. Is God there? Is He with you in the flood? And what about when the floodwaters recede, what’s next?

Join me Monday, April 12th for Conversations at the Well as we dive into God’s Word together and look at “Faith Through the Flood” – a look at Noah’s story. I will also be sharing a story I wrote about the flood as it may have looked through the eyes and heart of Noah’s wife. This is going to be an exciting voyage so be sure and bring your provisions:
Bible
Journal
Favorite Quiet Time Tools
And Maybe an Umbrella

May the Lord bless you,
Diana
760-567-9339
jacobswell@dc.rr.com

The Resurrection

2010-04-04T12:34:00.000-07:00

THE RESURRECTION
“On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood behind them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; He has risen!’” (Luke 24:1-6)
When I was little, my mom would read this account of the resurrection and I recall wondering how many angels it took to move that big boulder enough to let Jesus out. I now know that Jesus was not "let" out. I envision Jesus dead, lying in the tomb and then at just the right moment He sat up. He had risen. In that moment, as death was defeated, I imagine the sound that erupted from the tomb was deafening as the very power of God was unleashed and that which was immovable, the boulder, rolled away from the entrance. If death could not defeat the LORD then a mere boulder could not keep Him in the tomb. GLORY!!
My marriage was once dead. It lay in a tomb and a large boulder had been placed over it. People even told me that I was lost; I'd never survive what I had done. My husband and I stand today as living testaments to the power of our RISEN LORD. When Jesus met me that evening of December 18, 1999, He walked into the tomb where my marriage lay and He breathed life into that which was dead then He spoke and the power of God was unleashed and that which was dead sat up and the boulder could not help but roll away. My husband and I walked out of the tomb together; our marriage, our very lives, restored through Jesus Christ.
There have been times when I have struggled with the memory of what I had done and I hurry to visit the tomb where my dead marriage once lay. I arrive at the tomb breathless and as I bend down and peer inside the Lord asks me, "Why do you look for the living among the dead?" The tomb is empty. Hallelujah!!
As we celebrate the resurrection of our Lord I challenge you to look at your own life. Go and visit the tomb where your old self used to lay bound in burial cloths. As you peer into the tomb where your old self used to lie, be still. Do you hear Him? His voice thunders across your soul as He asks, "Why do you look for the living among the dead?"
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ Jesus he is a new creation. Behold, the old is gone, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

IN THE LAND OF SHADOW

2010-03-09T18:40:00.000-08:00

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me (Psalm 23:4).”

The sun sank low until it appeared to sit on the edge of the Sea of Galilee; its light setting the sea aflame with color. The cry of gulls echoed across the sky as fishing boats made their way back to shore where fishermen unloaded their day’s catch and others busily repaired their nets and readied them for the next day’s work. Clouds which had dotted the horizon earlier in the day, now moved in and with them a north wind began to blow, rousing the sea and stirring its surface. Fishermen glanced at the sky and quickened the pace of their work; a storm was brewing.
The wind carried the clouds, their shadows following along as they moved toward town. Shadow and light danced through meadows while wildflowers swayed to the music of the wind. They continued on their way chasing each other up a hillside where a large home stood looking out at the sea. Servants went about their tasks speaking in hushed tones while the wind carried leaves into the courtyard and tugged at their tunics as though trying to get their attention, and the shadows moved softly across their faces, but the servants ignored their efforts and continued with their work.
As though curious, the shadows crept through the courtyard doors into the house; silently moving room to room as they lingered over fine fabrics and opulent furnishings and explored colorful floor coverings until they finally came to her door, and peering inside found they were not alone, as shadows of sickness, worry and fear already filled the room, and another unnamed shadow loomed. The day was fading into evening and the shadows of the darkness to come crept into the room, stealing the light, darkening the corners, and silently made their way toward the bed where Hannah lay. A deep cough racked her body and a man with worry in his eyes and weariness in his bones hurried to her and gently slid his hand under her head, slightly raising it from the pillow as she struggled to breathe; her body convulsed with the effort and then she was quiet again, and he lowered her head back onto the pillow.
He dipped a clean cloth into a jar of water on the table by the bed and tenderly washed her face. “Hannah”, he whispered. Her eyes did not open nor did her lashes so much as flutter at the sound of her father’s voice. He stroked her long black hair and brushed her cheek with his hand as he wondered if he would ever see those dark eyes sparkle with mischief or hear her contagious laughter again. A sudden gust of wind whipped the side of the house, and he quickly rose and pulled the shutter closed and latched it before turning his gaze back to his daughter in hopes that the sound of the storm had stirred her back to consciousness, but her eyes remained closed; her mind and body bound by the illness that would not let her go. The shadows suddenly felt so heavy and oppressive and the sound of the wind beckoned him outside and so he quietly left the room.
He walked down the now empty hall and stopped at the open door of the room he shared with his wife and looked in. Hadassah was curled up on a chaise, eyes closed. Her steady breathing told him she was asleep at last; even in the dim lamp light the dark circles under her eyes were visible, telling of the long days and sleepless nights of constant care given to Hannah, and a mother’s heart, broken to see her child suffer so. He bent and kissed her softly on the forehead, turned and continued toward the courtyard.
He stepped through the open doors; the strong winds made it impossible to have the torches lit, but he was thankful for the darkness and walked to the far end of the courtyard and sat staring out into the night. He looked around the courtyard recalling the huge celebration they had held there just three short months ago, but it seemed an eternity. The celebration was for Hannah’s twelfth birthday and the house was brimming with guests, tables overflowed with wonderful foods, and the air filled with music. Hannah had run up to him begging for a dance, and as he swept her up she began to laugh with such joy.
Echoes of her laughter invaded his memory and he closed his eyes trying to capture the sound, hoping that somehow hearing her in his mind would bring her back, and when he opened his eyes this nightmare would be over and she would be standing there with one hand on her hip, shake a finger at him and tell him he worked too hard, and then the mischief would enter her eyes and she would come running, throw her arms around his neck the way she always did when he came home each evening. But when his eyes opened there was no one there; just overwhelming emptiness and the fierce wind.
He would have danced with her more had he known what was coming. She had been taken ill just a few weeks after her birthday. She was weak and feverish and had no appetite. He was a man of means, but for all his wealth he could not buy her health back. They had been to every sort of specialist they could find but none could help her. She grew weaker and weaker and eleven days ago had begun slipping in and out of consciousness, and had not opened her eyes or shown any sign of response in over three days now. That very morning their physician came and after examining her, shook his head and suggested they make preparation for her burial. Jairus had thrown him out and even now his hands clenched at the memory of those words.
The courtyard seemed to be closing in on him and he felt the need to walk so he got up and headed out into the storm. The wind tore at his tunic and howled around him, drowning out the usual sounds of night. He made his way down the path in the direction of the bluff overlooking the sea. It was Hannah’s favorite spot and she was the recipient of frequent scolding by Hadassah, as she would disappear from her household duties and be found sitting here looking out at the sea. He recalled coming home one afternoon when Hannah was only seven years old, to find Hadassah at her wits’ end as she told him that Hannah had announced she was not going to be married, but instead wanted to work on one of the fishing boats because she was in love with the sea. He laughed at the memory.
Hannah was full of life and adventure and dreams; she did not like to be closed in. The thought of her trapped inside a world of shadows, unable to speak or laugh or cry out or even open her eyes, was more than he could bear. “The great Jairus,” he said with disdain in his voice. He was the elected official over the local Synagogue. He ran the school. He had many people under him. He gave orders and was obeyed without question. He met with the religious leaders. People bowed in respect when they saw him in the streets. He had it all: position, power, wealth, but none of it mattered now. He wondered where God was. He thought about his life; he spent it in service to God, or did he? It was true his days were full of religious activity but did he know God? He felt empty and realized the emptiness had nothing to do with Hannah’s illness; it was something deeper than that.
He stood there on the bluff, the tempest-tossed sea below, the roaring winds buffeting him, and above, the vast heavens shrouded in clouds, and he suddenly felt so very small. A great cry erupted from the very depths of his soul and tears poured from his eyes but the wind snatched even these from him and carried them away. “God, I need you!” he cried, and fell face down on the grass. The words of King David came to mind and he spoke them out loud, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.” His voice trailed off as the truth of those words touched his heart. Yes, he and his family were living in the valley of shadow, and as he thought of these things he didn’t realize that the wind had suddenly stopped and all was still, and he drifted into an exhausted sleep, weary from his battle with shadows; he did not realize that another kind of shadow was there, covering him.
He woke as dawn arrived, and he slowly stood up, all too aware that he was not as young as he once was, and was definitely too old to sleep on the ground. He looked around, hoping no one had seen him lying out there, and made his way up the path to the house. A few of the servants were already at work, but didn’t seem to notice him and his disheveled appearance. He asked for water and a towel and went to wash, and then headed to Hannah’s room. Hadassah was there kneeling by the bed and he quietly joined her there.
“She’s worse,” Hadassah whispered. Jairus moved in closer and knew immediately his wife was right. Hannah’s breathing was labored and shallow; her color had turned from pale to gray and her skin was cold to the touch. “Jairus, do something!” Hadassah pleaded. Jairus ran a hand over his bearded face; a shadow of helplessness descended on him. “I will go for the doctor,” he said and wasted no time leaving the house. He felt weighed down as he walked, knowing deep down that he was on a mission of utter futility, but he continued moving with labored steps, willing his legs to carry him.
As he neared the edge of town he saw a large crowd. What could possibly be going on, he thought to himself. He stood there a moment looking for the best way around, when he overheard someone say a name he had heard many times; although it was usually spoken by the Pharisees through clenched teeth. He heard the name again: “Jesus.” He began maneuvering his way through the crowd. As people recognized him they moved aside, and in a matter of moments he emerged from the crowd and found himself standing face-to-face with Jesus.
As he stood looking into the eyes of Jesus, he suddenly felt so overwhelmed there in His presence. The shadows that had been pursuing him pressed in upon his tired soul, and tears stung his eyes as he realized that he had nowhere else to go but right here, and he fell to his knees at Jesus’ feet. He knelt there in Messiah’s shadow and then slowly raised his eyes.
Jairus knelt there, the pressure in his chest so great he could scarcely breathe, let alone speak, but Jesus stood unhurried; His eyes full of compassion as he waited. Jairus placed his hands on Jesus’ dirt-caked feet and the words came out in a torrent, his voice thick with pain, “My daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live.”
Jairus stood up as Jesus nodded that He would go with him, but as they turned to go the crowd suddenly surged forward, pressing in on them, and Jesus stopped and turned toward the crowd. And then He asked the strangest question. “Who touched me?” Jesus asked. One of the men with Jesus said, “You see the people crowding around you and yet you ask, who touched me?” Jesus didn’t seem bothered by the question and simply asked again, “Who touched me?”
Jairus felt impatience mixed with fear rising up within him. Time was of the essence and he didn’t understand how someone in the crowd touching Jesus mattered. He wanted to grab hold of Jesus’ tunic and spur Him onward; could one ask the Son of God to hurry, he wondered to himself. As these thoughts ran through his mind a woman suddenly stepped out of the crowd; she looked terrified as she came forward. She knelt down before Jesus and told Him how she had been ill for twelve years, plagued by bleeding, and how she had spent all she had on doctors but no one had been able to make her well. She looked up then and with tears in her eyes she declared it was she who had touched Him, believing that if she could just touch the fringe of His garment she would be healed. As she shared her story Jairus was filled with hope and his heart was greatly encouraged. The crowd was quiet as Jesus spoke to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”
While Jesus was still speaking, Jairus recognized some men who worked for him making their way toward him. Their faces were grim and Jairus began to back away as they neared; he did not want to hear what they had to say. “Jairus, your daughter is dead. Why bother the Teacher anymore?”
Death had cast its daunting shadow and had paraded past all Jairus’ possessions; all his wealth, all his servants, and had picked up his precious Hannah and carried her away, claiming victory at last. The words, “why bother,” hung heavy in the air. Jairus stood there as despair engulfed him and sorrow filled him and the weight of his loss threatened to crush him, but Jesus’ voice interrupted his pain as He said, “Jairus, don’t be afraid; just believe.” He tried to focus on Jesus’ words, to take in their meaning, but he felt lost somewhere in the shadows. But in the midst of them, he heard Jesus speaking with authority as He took charge of the situation and commanded everyone to remain there, and then He asked three of his men to go with them to Jairus’ house.
As they neared Jairus’ home they could hear loud wailing; the mourners had gotten word quickly and had shown up in force. The sound was deafening. They stood outside and also filled the courtyard. Jairus pressed past them as he heard Jesus ask the crowd, “Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep.” The crowd broke out in laughter but Jesus sent them all out. Jairus hurried to Hannah’s room where Hadassah sat weeping in the corner.
Jairus’ heart broke as he saw Hannah’s lifeless body lying there. He went to his wife and drew her to him and could no longer contain his tears as the shadows of death, grief and sorrow overtook them; but as their world spun out of control, plunging them into darkness, they heard footsteps and suddenly Jesus stepped through the shadows. He walked with purpose in every step as He went to Hannah’s bedside. The words “why bother” still rang in Jairus’ ears as he watched Jesus stretch out his hand; the hand that raised mountains where there was once nothing reached into the shadow lands and took hold of Hannah’s small lifeless one, and His voice that spoke stars into the sky and calmed the fiercest storms thundered through the darkness: “Little girl, I say to you, get up!” Hannah immediately opened her eyes and got up as though she had just woken from a nap. She was not slow in rising nor did she show any signs of illness or even tiredness.
Jairus’ stood as though frozen there; his mind trying to catch up to what his eyes had just seen. He looked at his daughter and then at Jesus and he knew that this was indeed the Messiah, and in that moment the shadows that had plagued his heart for so long began to lift, and he knew that this One, this Messiah, was indeed the only way to God just as He had said, and his heart believed. Sunlight poured through the window as he stepped forward to thank Jesus, and he found himself standing in Jesus’ shadow and wanted nothing more than to remain there. Power, wealth, religious activity; everything faded in comparison to knowing Jesus.
Later, after Jesus had gone, Jairus stood out on the bluff overlooking the sea, the view unobstructed by shadows, and Hannah ran into the arms of her father; and Jairus held her close and felt her heartbeat, and he marveled anew. Jesus spoke, the shadows lifted, and Hannah’s laughter filled the air and they danced.
Last week as I was in my quiet time there were clouds overhead and their shadows seemed to chase the light, and this caused me to wonder about shadows. They are very interesting, don’t you think? My daughter Elizabeth and I go running five mornings a week and we leave the house at about 4:30 when it is still dark. While there are some street lights, there are mostly shadows, and they can change the appearance of things.
A few weeks ago we were running along a particularly dark stretch and a security light on one of the buildings caused shadows to form along the way, and I was certain that I saw a person crouched ahead . My heart definitely began beating a bit faster as my overactive imagination tried to convince me that I should turn and run the other direction. Whoever coined the phrase “with age comes wisdom”, has never met me, because a wise woman would listen to her senses and turn around when she thinks a demented person is lurking in the darkness ahead just waiting to grab her. But I kept running toward the unknown figure and as I drew closer I saw that crouching there in the dark shadows of night was a hideous BUSH! No doubt about it, shadows can distort the way things appear.
As I journeyed through my quiet time that particular afternoon with light and shadow dancing through my living room I wondered what God’s Word had to say about shadows. I grabbed my Bible, a concordance, my journal, a pen; oh, and a cup of coffee and headed off to explore the shadow lands. Grab your supplies and come with me!

Look up: 1 Chronicles 29:15
Psalm 144:4
Job 14:2

What do these verses say we are like?
With these “shadow” images in your mind let’s turn to Mark 5:21 and read through verse 43. Write down any thoughts you have about what is taking place. What shadows do you see in the story? Fear, worry, doubt, etc…
What did Jairus do when He met Jesus? Jairus was an important man and the religious leaders would have frowned – to put it mildly – to see an elected religious official bowing to Jesus. Can you hear the pain in Jairus’ words? First, he fell at Jesus’ feet. He humbled himself. He could have walked up and tried to impress Jesus with his wealth – maybe try to pay him to come but instead he fell down at His feet and he pleaded with Jesus to go to his house and place his hands on his daughter so she would live. He had just heard the amazing testimony of the woman who had been healed after 12 years of suffering and doctor hopping. He could relate to her story. I can’t help but think his heart must have been strengthened in the hearing of it.
Put yourself in Jairus’ place. You are worried about your child whose life hangs in the balance. Jesus has agreed to go home with you but He stops before you even get started and asks what appears to be a ridiculous question in the middle of a big crowd, “Who touched me?”. What would you have felt? He receives the worst news a parent can ever hear. I picture him reeling with the hearing of it as though struck with a physical blow. What did the men ask him at the end of verse 35? Why bother? It’s over. It’s done. Go home. Give up. Death has had the final word.
Why bother? Has anyone ever said these words to you? Perhaps you have said them to yourself. You sign up for those AA meetings and before you hit the door the voice comes, “You are an alcoholic and you will always be an alcoholic. Why bother?” You are trying to learn some tools to deal with anger but you tell yourself, “My mother had a temper and so did her mother and her mother; so why bother?” “My child will never come to know Christ. Every time they start to make a move toward Jesus someone comes and pushes them away. Why should I keep trying; they’ve made their choice. The enemy has won. Why bother?” “I’m hopeless. I’ve gone too far this time and there is no way back. My life is ruined; my reputation gone; my marriage broken. Why bother?”
JESUS BOTHERED!! Write down whatever the shadow is that you are in right now. And then I want you to read Jesus’ response to those words in verse 36. Write it down. Put your name in it. Jesus said, “Diana, don’t be afraid; just believe.” My friend, when the shadows come, run to Jesus. Fall at His feet and place your hands on his dirt-caked, nail-pierced feet and raise your eyes to His and ask Him; trust Him, rely on Him.
In verse 39 what does Jesus ask the mourners? There is so much going on in this passage. I found it very interesting that the night before (Mark 4:35-41) is when Jesus calmed the storm and the disciples had been terrified – it appeared they were going to die and that Jesus did not care. Now, back up to Mark 4 and read verse 40. Do you catch the similarity? What are you wailing about? Why is your faith so small? I Am is with you.
What did the mourners do? Yep, they laughed. I picture big old belly laughs not just giggling. They must have thought Jesus had lost his mind. There were plenty of people who thought he was possessed and this statement probably didn’t help. Jesus wasn’t distracted by what they thought. Her healing was complete and it was immediate. She didn’t wheeze, cough, limp or show signs of grogginess. She was WELL. Jesus didn’t sort of, kind of raise her from the dead or almost do it. No one had to resuscitate her a few times; she was completely well.
Jesus walked into their shadow lands and brought healing, restoration and wholeness and He wants to do the same for you. Isaiah 51:16 says this: “I have put my words in your mouth and covered you with the shadow of my hand – I who set the heavens in place, who laid the foundations of the earth, and who say to Zion, You are my people.”
Oh beloved, are you languishing in the shadow lands? Do you hear them: the footsteps of He who loves you. He strides through the shadows, with His hand outstretched and He says, “Dear daughter, I have covered you with the shadow of my hand -- I who set the heavens in place, who laid the foundations of the earth and who says to you, you are my daughter.” His voice thunders through the darkness and He says, “Daughter, get up.”
The next time you are peering through dark shadows and you are certain you see something ominous and scary and the temptation to say “Why bother” grips you; run! Run to the truth of God’s Word. Run to the feet of Jesus; get so close to Him that you can touch His dirt-caked, nail-pierced feet and then as you are kneeling there, lift your eyes to His.
Read these words that Paul penned so long ago and let the truth penetrate the shadows with its light. “These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ” (Colossians 2:17).

An Original Conversations at the Well
By Diana Morgan
Copyright 2009

FAITH THROUGH THE FLOOD

2010-03-06T13:11:00.000-08:00

…on that day all the springs of the great deep burst forth, and the floodgates of the heavens were opened. And rain fell… Genesis 7:11-12

Have you ever experienced a flood? When we hear the word “flood” most of us think of the devastation left by hurricane Katrina. But hurricane Katrina was a puddle compared to what the world experienced in Noah’s day. Can you even imagine such a flood? Not a speck of ground anywhere was visible. Not a treetop. Even the highest mountain peaks were submerged. But Noah’s journey of faith began long before the first raindrops fell.

My dear friend, are you caught in a deluge in life? Is everything you hold dear submerged and out of sight and out of reach? Are you being swept away by floodwaters of doubt, fear and uncertainty? Do you feel adrift? Perhaps God has asked you to do something that just doesn’t make any sense. Is God there? Is He with you in the flood? And what about when the floodwaters recede, what’s next?

Join me Monday, April 12th for Conversations at the Well as we dive into God’s Word together and look at “Faith Through the Flood” – a look at Noah’s story. I will be sharing a story I wrote about the flood as it may have looked through the eyes and heart of Noah’s wife. This is going to be an exciting voyage so be sure and bring your provisions:
Bible
Journal
Favorite Quiet Time Tools
And Maybe an Umbrella

May the Lord bless you,
Diana
760-567-9339
jacobswell@dc.rr.com

Ciao

2010-02-16T08:21:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,
It is hard to believe that the day has finally arrived and in just a couple of hours Marc and I will head to the airport. I have my passport and all I need for the journey. I am so excited to see Rome and Florence! I am even looking forward to the plane ride - no phone calls, no email, no appointments or meetings. All I have to do is be still and savor time with my husband and the anticipation of all that awaits us in Italy. Marc has done a lot of homework and has even been practicing Italian. He has made reservations. He has read up on all there is to see and do in Rome and in Florence. Marc knows me really well. He knows what moves me and he has planned many things. He even has some surprises waiting for me there. He is really looking forward to taking me places and experiencing things together in another country.
This got me thinking about heaven. Jesus said he has gone to prepare a place and he is coming again to take us there. It occurs to me that I should be even more excited about going to heaven than I am about going to Italy. At 4:30 this morning as Elizabeth and I ran the sky was so clear and the stars appeared so close and so brilliant. Jesus did that. Don't you think Jesus is looking forward to showing us heaven? I think so. He knows us. He knows what moves us. Afterall, He is the One who wove us together. In fact, I think he has some amazing things that will take our breath away. Right now is a bit like the plane ride. We aren't to our new country yet but if you know Jesus then you have your passport and you get to savor his preasence and learn all you can about where we are going...heaven. I have been counting down the days to Italy but we don't know when Jesus will return for us. Perhaps today? Are you ready? Are you excited? Are you anticipating? Have you heard? I'm going to Heaven and I can't wait to get there. Jesus is going to meet me there and I can't wait!
Ciao!
Diana

Conversations at the Well Invitation

2010-01-30T08:53:00.001-08:00

Dear Friends,

Has something you cared about ever been broken? Recently I was playing ball in the house with my dogs. Yes, I was playing ball in the house - the very thing I spent years telling my children not to do. I thought I could do it and nothing bad would happen. But I tossed the ball and watched as it seemed to take a turn in mid-air and hit a much loved Demdacco figurine. She was one of my favorites and stood greeting friends and loved ones, her arms outstretched in welcome with a tiny bird sitting on her right arm. The ball found her and knocked her to the floor and she shattered. There was nothing to be done - no way to put her back together and so I swept up the broken pieces and threw them away.

We live in a broken world. Brokenness is all around us in all forms. We watched saddened as news of Tiger Woods emerged and a family shattered before our eyes. The world watched as Haiti was hit by an earthquake and buildings fell and lives shattered. Emergency workers stand overwhelmed by the devestation, not knowing how to begin putting the pieces together. Brokenness isn't always so public or easily seen. Hearts wounded by a broken promise. Disappointments over unrealized expectations. Broken vows. Broken health. Broken finances. Broken dreams. Broken.

I have been pondering and working on a new Conversations about having an unshakeable faith. Is it possible when things begin to crumble and the roof falls in? The Lord has continued to lay on my heart that I need to revisit a story I wrote last year about brokenness and restoration. I was struck again this morning by the words David wrote in Psalm 30:11-12, "You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever."

Please join us for Conversations at the Well as we walk with Peter on a journey from brokenness to restoration.

What: Conversations at the Well
When: Monday, February 1
Time: 7:00pm -8:30pm
Bring: Bible, journal, favorite quiet time supplies
Where: Home of Diana Morgan.

Blessings,
Diana Morgan
760-567-9339

DEVOURED

2010-01-13T07:38:00.000-08:00

"Be careful! Watch out for attacks from the Devil, your great enemy. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for some victim to devour." 1 Peter 5:8 NLT

This morning Marc, Teddy (our golden retriever) and I went through our normal, daily routine. Marc and Teddy met up with their friends at the dog park and I went running. We returned home about 6:30 and fed both dogs and then set about getting ready for our day. Marc set a tri-tip (the very one he had marinated and barbequed on Sunday)out on the counter with plans of making a sandwich to take with him to work. He was looking forward to this sandwich. It was not just going to be any sandwich. This would be the sandwich of all sandwiches - a masterpiece!

I headed down the hallway leaving Marc to make his sandwich. I was making the bed when echoing through the house I heard Marc's cry, "Teddy! No! No! No!" The cry was followed by much commotion and the sound of the dog door and then the sound of the patio door and then silence. I hurried down the hall to see what had happened. I didn't need Marc to piece the puzzle together for me. I entered the kitchen and on the counter was the plate on which the tri-tip had been sitting - it was empty! There was not one morsel of meat left to be had.

Marc returned to the kitchen feeling understandably frustrated. He turned to me and said, "I only turned my back for a second." As I returned to the task of making the bed it struck me how our walk with the Lord is like this incident with Teddy at times. We have something on the plate of our lives that we really enjoy or are looking forward to enjoying when it is snatched away. It could be: a marriage, a ministry, a treasured friend, good intentions, or our health. You name it, it could be sitting on the center piece of the plate of your life.

Suddenly you hear it, a gulp and when you turn back to look that treasured thing is gone and not a morsel left for you. You run to the Lord about it and breathless you say, "But Lord, I only turned my attention from you for a moment." The Lord sits down with you in the misty morning light and gently says, "Child, do not turn away me, even for a second. The enemy: the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour." Satan looks and watches for an opportunity when your guard is down: you are tired, overworked, depressed, angry etc... When you are weak and not looking he will make his move, and just like Teddy watched for his opportunity, while Marc's back was turned, to jump on the counter to snatch the meat and devour it, Satan watches for the opportunity when you are the weakest and your back is turned and he will jump on the opportunity to snatch away and devour.

Dear one, heed Peter's warning in 1st Peter 5:8 Be careful! The NASB says to be on the alert. The NIV says to be self-controlled and alert. So, my friend, are you alert? Are you watching? Are you being careful? Or have you turned away, living carelessly? Do you think in your heart, "well, I will only live this way for a while and then I'll turn back. I know I haven't been in the Word for myself, but it's only for today." My friend, it only takes a moment. So what should we do? We find the answer in Ephesians

A final word: Be strong with the Lord's mighty power. Put on all of God's armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies and tricks of the Devil. For we are not fighting against people made of flesh and blood, but against the evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against those mighty powers of darkness who rule this world, and against wicked spirits in the heavenly realms. Use every piece of God's armor to resist the enemy in the time of evil, so that after the battle you will still be standing firm. Stand your ground, putting on the sturdy belt of truth and the body armor of God's righteousness. For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News, so that you will be fully prepared. In every battle you will need faith as your shield to stop the fiery arrows aimed at you by Satan. Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Pray at all times and on every occasion in the power of the Holy Spirit. Stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all Christians everywhere.

Ephesians 6:10-18

So as you head into your day:

Be careful!

Be alert!

Stand firm

Put on the full armor of God

Pray

Thank you Lord for this reminder today to be alert and watchful AND to not turn away from you even for a moment. Thank you that I do not need to walk in fear but I do need to walk in obedience to you. Help me put on every piece of your armor daily and to pray. Amen.

A Conversations at the Well

Diana Morgan

January 13, 2010

A NEW HEART

2010-01-11T21:28:00.000-08:00

“And I will give you a new heart with new and right desires, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony heart of sin and give you a new, obedient heart.” (Ezekiel 36:26 NLT)

I gave my husband a kiss and jogged off into the darkness, leaving him and Teddy, our golden retriever, at the dog park with all their dog park friends. Normally by 5:15 I would be done with my morning run and be happily sipping coffee while having my quiet time with the Lord. But my daughter Elizabeth is off having a grand adventure in Costa Rica and my husband and I decided it probably wasn’t wise to go running at four o’clock in the morning by myself. So I switched up my schedule. I still get up at the same time but I have my quiet time first and then go running while Marc and Teddy hang out at the dog park with a group of men who take their dogs to the park at that same time each morning.
I actually find I enjoy this new schedule. Sitting with the Lord first allows me the opportunity to ponder His Word while I run. I like to ponder, don’t you? I turned eastward just as a barn owl flew through the palm trees that lined the street; their graceful fronds gently swaying as the powerful wings of the owl carried him off into the pre-dawn darkness. “How I love the morning,” I thought to myself. There is something about this time of morning when the world is still that nourishes my spirit.
I know many people who prefer to sleep in but not me. I want to get up and wrap my arms around the stillness of the morning; to rejoice in the color of night as it wakes up to the dawn and the stars begin to turn out their lights and the moon begins her descent until she hides behind the mountain peaks. I like to bask in the glorious stillness before the world wakes up and stirs everything into a frenzied pace – as the world likes to do.
I headed south towards the lake and my thoughts turned to the New Year we were beginning. “A new day in a new year,” I thought to myself. “A new woman, with a new heart in a new day in a new year,” He said. I hadn’t heard Him arrive and my heart looked at Him who loves me and smiled. We were running passed the lake and I slowed my pace as I took in the reflection of the mountains on the water. My friend, Mr. Swan floated gracefully across the water trumpeting a hearty good morning to us, and He who gave the swan its voice laughed and it seemed to me that the trees clapped their hands and all the ducks joined in the celebration of the new day He had given.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked as we headed into mile number four. I knew He already knew my thoughts, but He loves it when I tell Him everything, even the smallest details. “Well,” I said, “I was just thinking about the verses we read together in Ezekiel 36 this morning. You know the ones about the heavenly heart surgery where you take out the stony heart of sin and replace it with a new heart with new and right desires – a heart that obeys you.” I fell silent as I listened to my shoes make a clop, clop, clop sort of sound on the concrete as we ran. I looked down at His feet, you know the ones with the scars on them, and I wondered that His feet didn’t make all the noise my earth feet made, and why was it He could run four miles and never be out of breath. He laughed then, and I knew He had heard my thoughts – even my unspoken deep ones. I laughed too.
“Why is it,” I continued, “that new hearts sometimes do old things? It doesn’t seem like it should be that way. It’s so, so hurtful.” I finished, my eyes looking at the ground as we ran. A verse from His book came to mind then from James 3:11: “Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring?” I knew those words were about what came off the tongue, but His book also tells us that what comes out of a person either in word or deed begins in the heart. I knew that old things came out of my heart too – it was an ongoing battle. “Why is it that way?” I whispered. “You must choose it,” His voice came softly through my soul. “Choose what?” I asked. “Newness,” He replied. We approached the dog park just then. We laughed as we saw Teddy standing at the fence with his head peeking through the fence. I lightly touched his velvety nose as we ran by, calling out a greeting to Marc as we continued our run. I couldn’t help but take a moment to thank Him whom my soul loves for the man He had given me as my husband and friend. “You are welcome,” He replied.
We returned to our conversation as I asked, “To choose newness sounds easy, so why don’t we always choose it?” I asked. “Weak walls,” He replied. My heart looked at Him questioningly. The scars on His brow – you know the deep ones where the soldiers so cruelly pushed a crown of thorns, grew more pronounced and I knew we were having a most serious talk indeed. So my heart leaned in closer as my feet continued running – I love that even when I am running my heart can be still at the Well of His presence – and He told me a story. It’s a story of new hearts and choosing the new over the old. I hope you like it as much as I did.
Cora sat very still in the chair that sat before the window that overlooked the lake. Her eyes appeared tired, her frame too thin and her bent posture made her look much older than her thirty years. “Good morning beautiful,” Peter said as he entered the room. Cora looked up at her husband as he knelt by the chair and kissed the end of her nose as he gently picked up her hands in his. “So what are your plans for today?” he asked. “Same as yesterday and the day before that and the day before that and…” Cora’s voice trailed off and disappeared in a cloud of defeat.
“Cora, it’s such a pretty morning. There are daffodils blooming down by the lake. You always loved daffodils. I could wheel you down there and then very gently and slowly we can walk by the water.” Peter stood and headed to the corner of the room where the wheelchair sat. But Cora would have nothing to do with it. “No, Peter. I won’t do it. I won’t go.” She said in a voice almost too soft to hear.” “But Cora,” Peter began. But before he could say more, Cora held up a hand indicating she would not listen to his plea. Her mind was made up.
Peter returned the still unused wheelchair to the corner just as Nurse Thompson entered the room. The nurse nodded toward Cora with a questioning look in her eyes and Peter silently shook his head in response to her wordless question, letting her know that nothing in Cora had changed. Peter motioned Nurse Thompson out into the hallway and she followed him out, closing the door quietly behind them.
Peter’s voice was desperate as he said in hushed tones, “I don’t know how to reach Cora. I have done everything I know to do but she refuses to leave the room; refuses to do any of the exercises. She can’t stay in the rehab center forever. I, I don’t know what to do,” he finished. “May I pray with you?” Nurse Thompson asked. Peter’s head shot up as he looked at her and said, “I didn’t know you were a Christian. Yes, please do pray.” So standing in the hallway a kind, gentle Jesus lover prayed for a man who had run out of ideas and for a woman who was trapped by fear of the new and so was clinging to the old.
“Thank you,” Peter said as Nurse Thompson finished talking to Jesus about this couple of whom she had grown very fond indeed. “Don’t give up,” she said as Peter opened the door of Cora’s room. Peter walked over and in the most cheerful voice he could muster said, “Cora, I am heading to work. I will be back around noon. What sounds good to you for lunch?” He waited but no reply came so he kissed his wife’s forehead, picked up his briefcase and headed off into the world; a world oblivious to the pain he and Cora were in.
Peter stepped off the elevator, walked through the lobby and as he walked through the double glass doors into the glorious sunshine, he made a decision. He pulled his cell phone from the clip on his belt and dialed a familiar number. “Good morning,” a cheerful voice greeted. “Hey Bob,” Peter said, forcing himself to sound normal in the midst of the abnormal. “How are you doing Pete?” Bob asked with genuine concern for his friend in his voice. Peter began to say he was fine, but suddenly felt a nudge by an unseen hand to come clean with his friend so he said, “Truthfully, Bob, I am having a hard time of it. I wonder if, if…” “Where are you Pete?” Bob asked. Peter quickly told Bob he was at the rehab center and Bob said he would meet him down at the lake. Peter placed his cell phone back in its clip and headed to the lake.
Peter sat staring out at the water, uncertain how much time had passed when he felt a hand on his shoulder as Bob took a seat on the bench. “I come bearing gifts,” Bob said as he handed Peter a cup of his favorite coffee and a pastry from their favorite coffee shop. “Thanks Bob,” Peter said, grateful for the food and coffee, but mostly for the presence of his friend. “Tell me,” Bob said simply giving Peter his full attention.
“Peter was unaccustomed to sharing the intimate details of his life with anyone other than Cora and the Lord, but felt God impressing on him the need to rely on Christian brothers to walk this road with him. His thoughts went back to Nurse Thompson’s prayer and how he felt strangely helped – that seemed to affirm in his mind what he needed to do. He needed to reach out. So clearing his throat he explained the situation to his friend.
Bob listened intently, asking questions here and there to gain understanding; all the while praying in his heart for wisdom from the One who promises to give wisdom to those who ask. As Peter finished Bob reached into the pocket of his briefcase and pulled out a Bible. As he read Psalms the words seemed to rise up off the page and walk right into Peter’s heart – strengthening him. He had been so absorbed in the situation that he had neglected being in the Word for himself, and this thought made him wonder about Cora. In her state she most assuredly had not been in the Word.
Bob noticed the cloud pass over Peter’s face so he asked what he was thinking about. Peter’s voice was raw with emotion as he spoke, “I felt strengthened as you read God’s Word and I realized how long it had been since I had been in the Word with all that has been going on. And then I thought about Cora and how I have failed as a husband to nurture my wife through reading God’s Word to her when she has so obviously been unable to read it for herself,” “Pete,” Bob said, “don’t go down the path of ‘should’ve, could’ve’ – that’s a sure road to despair and exactly where the enemy wants you, so do what God says instead.
Bob opened his Bible to Philippians 4:6-7 and read the words out loud to his friend, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” “So Pete, what do you say we put those words into practice right here and now,” Bob said. Peter nodded in agreement and there on a lakeside bench two men bowed their heads and poured out their requests to the Lord. As they prayed they were unaware of events taking place in a small office tucked into a back corner of the rehab facility just up the hill from where they sat.
Kate handed the form to the woman sitting behind the desk and smiled at her. Kate couldn’t help but smile. The smile on her lips began in her heart – a new heart and just sort of burst out all over. She couldn’t contain it. “You are very young,” the woman behind the desk observed as she peered at Kate over her reading glasses before returning her attention to the paperwork. But then something on the paper caught her eye and she looked up at Kate and then back at the paper and then back at Kate as though unsure what she read was true. “Excuse me a moment,” the woman said as she picked up the paper and disappeared through a door marked: Private. Kate heard whispering from behind the door and then it opened slightly and she saw another woman peering out and then the door closed followed by more whispering. Kate giggled, uncertain of what was going on. All she really knew was that she was sitting in this chair, in this rehab center because the Lord had sent her there. She knew she was young but she also knew with every fiber of her being that God had a call on her life; He was going to use her new heart for His glory – she knew it and the thought caused her to smile all over again. A few floors above where Kate sat a battle was being waged – a battle between the old and the new.
Cora lay in bed staring at the ceiling. She knew her fear was irrational but knowing it didn’t loosen fear’s grip on her. She closed her eyes in an effort to shut out the onslaught of thoughts but was greeted by a vision of Peter’s tired, sad eyes as he had pleaded with her to go outside for a walk. Her eyes flew open to escape what she saw. She reached over and picked up a cup of water and sipped it slowly as her thoughts drifted back to the year before she had the long-awaited surgery.
Cora had been very ill and the illness had attacked the walls of her heart. “You have weak walls,” the doctor had said. She was placed on a list with lots of other people in need of a new heart and so they waited. She was unable to even walk across the room without dizziness, and shortness of breath could come upon her with the smallest of exertions. She had spent the final two months before the surgery in the hospital and how they had prayed and prayed for a new heart to become available. It struck Cora that it was an odd thing to ask God for as it meant the end of someone else’s life. But she had quickly pushed those thoughts aside, and she and Peter had been elated when the news came that a donor heart had become available for Cora.
The weeks immediately following the transplant surgery were a blur of medications, poking and prodding from numerous doctors, checking the wounds and guarding carefully against infection and watching for any sign that Cora’s body would reject the new heart. As time passed and the way smoothed the doctor ordered Cora to be moved to the rehab center located on the eastside of the hospital grounds. Cora had great hope for being able to go home soon and determined to do well and work hard at rehab. But one morning something happened that changed everything.
A couple of weeks into the rehab, the nurse and the technician came in as usual to get her ready. Today she would be walking. She was very excited. They were walking down the hallway when she was gripped by pain in her chest and everything went black. She woke connected to all kinds of machines and felt absolute terror over what had happened. It had turned out to be something minor and really not life threatening but it had rocked her world. A few days later when Nurse Thompson came to prepare her for rehab, Cora had turned away, shutting out any help and refusing to do any exercises. She would not risk such pain again. So here she was months later with a new heart in her chest, but living as though the old heart was still with her.
She set the water cup on the bedside table just as the door opened. Nurse Thompson walked in followed by a young lady who appeared to be no more than sixteen or seventeen years of age. “Why was she here?” Cora thought to herself. Nurse Thompson walked to Cora’s bedside as she said, “Cora, meet Kate. Kate, this is Cora. Cora, Kate is going to read to you today. Would you like to sit in the chair?” Cora bristled inside. She didn’t need to be read to and she certainly didn’t want to get out of her sickbed. “No, I do not want to sit in the chair, and…” Nurse Thompson held up a hand as she spoke firmly, “Cora, you can stay in bed but Kate is going to read to you. Whether you listen or not is your choice.” With that Nurse Thompson turned, and unseen by Cora, winked at Kate as she left the room leaving the smiling Kate alone with her prickly patient.
Kate pulled a chair near the bed and spotted the Bible sitting on the bedside table. “Oh, are you a Christian?” Kate asked. Cora nodded quietly as she studied this young woman. “I am so glad. I know Jesus too,” Kate said with a smile. She noticed Cora’s water cup was nearly empty and stood to refill it, and picked the Bible up before returning to her seat. Cora pointed to a lapel pin on Kate’s blouse as she asked what the pin was for. Kate’s smile broadened as she said, “Oh that is the pin I received in honor of scoring three homeruns on my high school baseball team,” she finished. “Humph,” was the only reply Cora made and proceeded to pretend to look out the window.
Kate had been praying non-stop since she entered the room. She recognized the fear in Cora’s eyes right away, and her heart went out to this woman who seemed unwilling or unable to break the hold fear had on her. Kate opened the Bible, sensing the Lord wanted her to read His Words instead of speaking her own. She quickly turned to Ezekiel 36:26 and began reading. “And I will give you a new heart with new and right desires, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony heart of sin and give you a new, obedient heart.”
Kate continued reading, and Cora continued to stare out the window. Kate read verse 35: “And when I bring you back, people will say, ‘This godforsaken land is now like Eden’s garden! The ruined cities now have strong walls…’” Suddenly Cora turned toward Kate, her eyes smoldering with pent up anger as she pointed a finger at Kate and said, “What do you know about it? What do you know about new hearts or old hearts or weak walls? You can’t possibly know or understand. Get out!” Cora shouted, her body shaking with emotion.
As Cora’s words still hung in the air, Kate moved a hand to her blouse and began unbuttoning the top few buttons as she very gently said, “Oh Cora, but I do know. I do understand.” As she opened the buttons the beginnings of a scar appeared; a very familiar sight to Cora’s eyes as it was no different than the scar she bore on her own chest. Kate buttoned her blouse as a stunned Cora lay back on her pillow completely speechless as she stared at Kate.
Kate rose and took a seat on the edge of the bed and reached out and held Cora’s hand as she spoke in a voice full of compassion. “Cora, after my heart transplant I got a horrible infection and they thought my body was rejecting the new heart. But many people were praying and slowly the battle my body and my new heart were having was won. Like you, I was fearful when rehab began. It was slow and painful. I did not like the pain and I was tempted to give up more than once.” Cora squeezed Kate’s hand as she asked, “Kate, how did you overcome your fear? How did you keep going? How?” she asked.
“The Lord and I were having a talk about my new heart one morning, when I especially felt like quitting. The Lord took me to that passage in Ezekiel that I just read to you. It was then the Lord reminded me that someone had to die in order for me to receive the new heart and if I gave up, if I lived like I still had the old heart beating in my chest, well, it would be as if that person had died for nothing.”
Kate sat quietly, letting the Lord speak to Cora. Kate’s words penetrated Cora’s heart of stone and as she thought about all Kate had said and the verses Kate had read, the Lord’s voice thundered through her soul reminding her of One who had died for her so she could have another kind of new heart – an eternal heart that beat for the Lord. She had been behaving and living like she had the old dead heart of sin in her chest instead of the new, reborn heart the Lord had given her when she had invited Him into her heart back in high school. Cora knew then what was needed.
“Kate,” Cora whispered, “I need to ask God’s forgiveness. I have been so wrong about, well, about everything,” she finished. “Let’s pray,” Kate said. As sunlight spilled into the room, Cora poured her heart out to the Lord and ended by asking Him to give her the strength and the courage to move forward on the road to physical wholeness. They finished praying and then Cora spoke through her tears as she asked Kate to call Nurse Thompson. Kate’s smile was contagious and Cora found herself smiling back – it felt good.
The door opened but instead of Nurse Thompson, Peter entered the room. He saw the tears on Cora’s face and the smile on her lips and something different in her eyes. “What is it?” He asked as he hurried to the bed. Cora grabbed both her husband’s hands in hers as she said, “Oh Peter, please forgive me. I have been so very wrong.” Before Cora could finish explaining to her very confused husband all that had happened, Kate returned with Nurse Thompson right behind her.
Kate had filled Nurse Thompson in on what had taken place so Nurse Thompson came prepared with the rehab schedule in hand. “So,” Nurse Thompson said with a smile and a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “how does tomorrow morning at nine fit into your schedule?” Cora raised a hand in protest and shaking her head replied, “Oh no, I don’t want to wait another day. Can’t we begin this afternoon?” she finished. Peter couldn’t take it another moment as he shouted above the laughter, “Would someone please tell me what has happened?” The room fell silent as Cora turned and with a smile on her lips that began in her heart she said, “Oh Peter, haven’t you heard the news? I have a new heart.”
“Thank you for telling me the story,” I said. “We reached the lake and slowed our pace to a walk, my legs feeling like jello. I looked at the numbers on the pedometer and gave an excited whoop. “I reached my goal,” I said excitedly. “5.16 miles.” He whom my soul loves smiled as He said, “That’s very good.” We were quiet a moment and then He asked me what I was going to do when I got home. “Well,” I began, “I will eat breakfast and then get ready for work.” I looked eastward at the horizon where the promise of the coming sun was turning the sky a deep mauve and then His voice thundered through the stillness of the dawn as He said, “Just as you stand in your closet and decide what to wear to work, so too you must decide how to clothe your heart.” My heart turned to Him, giving Him my full attention as He said, “Choose newness.”
I looked up to see Marc and Teddy walking in our direction and I turned to say something to the Lord, but He had gone. As Marc and Teddy and I headed into the day, I remembered the Words the Lord had shared with me from His book about new hearts and strong walls. “Lord,” I said, “when I am tempted to live like the old heart is still beating in my chest, help me to choose newness. Thank you for dying for me so that I could have a new heart. Remind me that living with a sinful heart of stone, is acting as if your death and resurrection don’t matter. Strengthen and build up the walls of my heart; help me to choose newness.” As I prepared to head out the door to work, I found a note the Lord left on the steps just inside my heart’s door, “Dear daughter, I’ll do it.” I tucked the heavenly note into the pocket of my heart along with all the other notes He had written to me so I could read it again and again on days I was tempted to oldness. And with my new heart beating strongly, keeping perfect time with the Lord’s heartbeat I headed into the day where a world already stirred into hurried busyness was waiting to hear that they too could have a new heart.

NEW HEARTS
Lord, in majesty drawing nigh.
Your mighty hand tenderly paints
the color in the desert evening sky.
Look up dear heart
and see the work of His hand;
even the sky obeys the Lord's command.

Be still dear heart,
as before you colors of night unfolding,
the glory of the Lord,
your eyes beholding.

The moon hangs suspended in the night
by Him who spoke to create its light.
The soft colors of dawn reveal God's glory;
telling human hearts of the greatest love story.

And in the west in the dawn so still,
stands a lighted cross upon a hill.
Speaks to us of Him who died;
beaten, broken, crucified.

His lifeless body taken down from the cross;
by hearts shattered and grieved at the loss.
But three days later as the night gave way;
dawn's light came to reveal the stone rolled away.

Victory in Jesus' eyes it shone;
as for our sins He did atone.
And in our souls those hearts of stone;
can be rolled away as His truth has shown.

The earth itself
in His presence does tremble.
Creation sings its praises
at the gates of His temple.

The mountains stretch heavenward
at the sound of His voice;
urging human hearts
to make their choice.

Bow down dear one,
humble your heart.
Worship the Living God
it's not too late to start.

Tears of joy on your face
as you look in His eyes,
Nail scarred hands touch your soul
till you are humble inside.

Then you'll wonder in awe
under dawns soft colored hue
gone is your heart of stone;
and in its place a heart made new.

An Original Conversations at the Well
Diana Morgan
© Copyright January 10, 2010

New Hearts

2010-01-10T06:56:00.000-08:00

Lord, in majesty drawing nigh.

Your mighty hand tenderly paints

the color in the desert evening sky.

Look up dear heart

and see the work of His hand;

even the sky obeys the Lord's command.

Be still dear heart,

as before you colors of night unfolding,

the glory of the Lord,

your eyes beholding.

The moon hangs suspended in the night

by Him who spoke to create its light.

The soft colors of dawn reveal God's glory;

telling human hearts of the greatest love story.

And in the west in the dawn so still,

stands a lighted cross upon a hill.

Speaks to us of Him who died;

beaten, broken, then crucified.

His lifeless body taken down from the cross;

by hearts shattered and grieved at the loss.

But three days later as the night gave way;

dawn's light came to reveal the stone rolled away.

Victory in Jesus' eyes it shone;

as for our sins He did atone.

And in our souls those hearts of stone;

can be rolled away as His truth has shown.

The earth itself

in His presence does tremble.

Creation sings its praises

at the gates of His temple.

The mountains stretch heavenward

at the sound of His voice;

urging human hearts

to make their choice.

Bow down dear one,

humble your heart.

Worship the Living God

it's not too late to start.

Tears of joy on your face

as you look in His eyes,

Nail scarred hands touch your soul

till you are humble inside.

Then you'll wonder in awe

under dawns soft colored hue

gone is your heart of stone;

and in its place a heart made new.

An Original Conversations at the Well Poem
By Diana Morgan
Copyright January 10, 2010

Come to the Well

2010-01-08T11:11:00.000-08:00

Jesus said, “If you are thirsty, come to me! If you believe in me, come and drink! For the Scriptures declare that rivers of living water will flow out from within”.

My friend, are you thirsty? Are the arid desert winds blowing across your soul? Perhaps all is well and you are in a season of growth and you are overflowing with the Living Water. Whatever the season you are in; Jesus’ direction is clear, “Come to me”. Can you picture for a moment the scene of Jesus sitting with the woman at the well? She is utterly empty – the very air sapping life from her. In this moment, Jesus looks straight into her very heart and says, “I Am the Messiah.” Oh, the woman is holding her breath. Creation itself seems silent in that moment waiting for the Creator's next word. Beloved, He is right now looking into your heart. He is whispering “I am He. I am the One you seek. The One you need…Come to Me”.

Please join us for ‘Conversations at the Well’ Monday, January 11, 2010 from 7pm to 8:30pm. At the home of Diana Morgan Kindly RSVP to Diana at 567-9339 or respond to this post.

Worship
Conversation at the Well
Time alone at the Well (In God's Word)
Sharing
Prayer

In His Love,
Diana
567-9339

jacobswell@dc.rr.com

“When you are thirsty, help yourself to the water they have drawn from the well.” Ruth 2:9

BETHLEHEM

2009-12-07T22:02:00.000-08:00

BETHLEHEM

…in your light we see light. Psalm 36:9

It was dark and there was a chill in the air as I headed to the well. I stopped and lit a spiced cider candle before taking my place. I watched the flame dance and the warmth of the fragrance was soft and inviting. I opened His Book and read Psalm 36 and suddenly and without warning these words jumped off the page and into my heart, “in Your light we see light.” I looked up to see Him whom my soul loves looking at the candle and I smiled as I saw the Light of the world bathed in the soft glow of the candlelight and then my heart got all excited and breathless as it raced back to Psalm 36:9 and read again, “in Your light we see light.” I could not contain myself as my heart looked up at Him again and said, “In Your light I see light.” I could tell by the light dancing in His eyes that He had arranged this moment for me and He came and took a seat very near me at the Well and His presence enveloped me there in the light.
He took me to Isaiah 9:2 and I read it slowly (that’s the best way to read His Word), “The people who walk in darkness will see a great light – a light that will shine on all who live in the land where death casts its shadow.” (NLT) I sat wondering about this light the people in the dark would see and where exactly the light came from and then I stopped in verse 6 as we read together, “For a child is born to us, a son is given to us. And the government will rest on His shoulders. These will be His royal titles: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His ever expanding, peaceful government will never end. He will rule forever with fairness and justice from the throne of His ancestor David. The passionate commitment of the Lord Almighty will guarantee this!”
My heart looked into His eyes as I whispered in the stillness, “You are the light that shines on those who live in the land where death casts it shadow. These verses are talking about your birth, aren’t they?” He nodded quietly and my heart caught a reflection of memories from eternity past shining in the eyes of Him whom my soul loves. I wondered then if the angels decorated for Christmas. Did they hang a wreath on Heaven’s door or put up Christmas lights? Did Heaven celebrate the day He laid aside His glory and took on the helplessness of a newborn? Did Jesus followers who had already walked across Heaven’s threshold light candles and sing to Him about that day while angels stand in silent awe of the very wonder of such love by the Creator that He would take on the form of the created? As I sat in the stillness my heart thought it heard echoes of the joyful celebration intertwined with awe and wonder thundering from Heaven.
I wondered if it was the voices of angels my heart heard and if so were they the same angels who had proclaimed Jesus’ birth to a group of shepherds in the fields outside Bethlehem? “What of everyone else? Where were the people of Bethlehem? Didn’t they hear the voices of Angels proclaiming the birth of Him who came to die? Wouldn’t the sound of thousands of Heaven’s warriors singing praise to God travel through the streets of Bethlehem? Did anyone stop even for a moment, tilt their head and wonder what the sound was? Where were they?” I thought to myself. “They didn’t have room,” He said, following my thoughts.
I turned His words over and over in my mind and I realized things hadn’t changed much. My thoughts turned to Christmas lights and I thought about all the different lights of the season: Christmas lights that adorn people’s homes; Christmas tree lights that shine and twinkle and add warmth to evenings with family as they gather around the Christmas tree. The soft glow of candlelight for Christmas parties with co-workers and friends and family as their laughter fills the air. Lights shine from department store windows as frazzled and harried shoppers rush about, cramming one more thing into one more moment in one more hour of one more day. Budgets strain, heads pound, rest is scarce and hearts cry out in the midst of Christmas carols and sleigh bells. All the while, standing unseen by human eyes, the Angels are still proclaiming the Good News! I thought how easily we are distracted by “world-lights” and we miss Him. “No room,” He repeated.
As the flame of the candle danced, my heart nestled quietly at His feet and there in the Light of His Presence He began to share a story with me (He is the Master Storyteller, you know). It was a story of Christmas. As He began to weave the threads of the story into my heart I knew I needed to write it down so I opened my laptop and my fingers danced across the keyboard as He spoke.
The alarm rudely interrupted her sleep and she fumbled in the darkness until her fingers found the off button. Silence filled the house once again with the exception of Andy’s soft snoring. Beth groaned as she sat up. “How on earth had she allowed herself to be talked into this?” she wondered to herself as she headed to the shower. She stood in the shower willing herself to wake up as she recalled the conversation with her friends; the same conversation they had every year, and every year Beth laughed, told them they were crazy and then declined their offer.
She hurried from the bathroom to the closet where she quickly pulled on jeans and a sweater, selected comfortable shoes and sat down on the edge of the bed to put them on. She glanced at the clock; the illuminated numbers mocked her as they announced the time: 3:55 AM! Could it have really been just seven hours ago that she and Andy, Richard, Julie, Amy and John had sat in the living room downstairs sipping coffee in front of the fire after a wonderful Thanksgiving meal? Amy and Julie began talking about all the great bargains they were going to find on their annual shopping trip the next day and Beth could see the invitation coming. She had sat next to Andy giggling, already preparing to decline when she heard Andy say what a good idea he thought it was. After all, money was a bit tight and it wouldn’t hurt to get in on some bargains. “If it’s such a great idea why am I the one going shopping in the middle of the night?” she whispered. The only reply was Andy’s snoring. She pulled on her coat just as a car pulled into the driveway. She peered through the blinds and saw Amy walking to the front door, so grabbing her purse she kissed Andy’s cheek and switched off the light as she headed downstairs.
Beth opened the front door to find Amy standing on her doorstep smiling, holding out a travel mug with a bright red ribbon tied to the handle. “I come bearing gifts,” Amy said with a soft laugh. “It’s too early even for coffee,” Beth moaned as she stepped outside and turned to lock the front door. Amy’s cheerfulness wasn’t dampened in the least by her friend’s lack of enthusiasm. She continued holding out the mug to her friend as she said, “It’s Starbuck’s Christmas Blend. I ground it myself this morning. I even used your favorite creamer: toffee nut. But wait, there’s more. I also added just a sprinkling of ground cinnamon on top. Come on grumpy, take a sip,” Amy urged. “I now know why it is called Black Friday,” Beth said as she took the mug from her friend. “Do tell,” Amy said as they walked to the car. “Because it’s black outside which matches my mood,” Beth quipped as she climbed into the backseat.
Amy and Julie chatted cheerfully as Beth sat quietly in the backseat. She thought about all the things at home she had planned to accomplish that day and wouldn’t get to and would either not get done at all or be pushed to another timeslot. But where would she find time in a schedule in which every moment was already filled? “There’s no room,” she thought to herself. Beth’s mind began racing through the days ahead which were filled to the brim with the tasks of the Season. Her insides suddenly felt as if they were in a vice being squeezed as she ran down her mental calendar. There was a school field trip to the food bank downtown to show the kids how food was distributed to the needy. Then there were two school programs to attend, Andy’s staff Christmas party given by his employer, a family Christmas party at Andy’s parents’ house and the church Christmas pageant, their small group Christmas party at their house, and then she had agreed to help Amy at the local rescue mission on Christmas Eve immediately followed by the Candlelight service at church, and then, finally, Christmas Day. All of this was added on top of the usual day-to-day activities of family life. Then there was the added stress of the economic crunch which was now being felt in their life. As a result of layoffs at Andy’s place of employment his workload had increased but his benefits had been reduced. She sat surveying her life, “no room,” she whispered into the darkness.
She was brought back to the here and now as Amy pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot where a crowd of shoppers had already congregated at the doors waiting for them to open. Beth got out of the car and decided to try and enjoy herself as the three friends spent the morning shopping together. By eleven o’clock they had each nearly completed their shopping. Julie spotted a Panera and they decided this would be a good time to stop for lunch.
“So,” Amy began, “are you all ready to begin the Advent activities?” All three of them had purchased Advent calendars. Julie and Amy each shared various activities they already had planned and then they looked at Beth eager to hear what Advent plans she had made. “Well?” Julie enquired. Beth looked down at her fork as she confessed that the Advent package was still in its box, unopened. Amy and Julie sat looking at their friend, expressions of concern in their faces. Tears sprang into Beth’s eyes as she felt the internal vice tighten. “No room,” was all she could manage to say.
A few hours later Amy helped Beth carry her packages from the car into the house. Amy gave Beth a big “I love you friend” hug before she headed home. Beth closed the front door and didn’t see her friend sitting in the front seat of her car with her head bowed having a conversation with her Heavenly Father about a dearly loved friend and sister in Christ who had found herself with no room. A few hours later found Beth lying exhausted in bed and yet unable to sleep. Her thoughts were racing around and around in her head leaving no room for rest or even the ability to carry it all to the Lord. “No room,” she whispered. Sometime in the wee hours a troubled sleep came.
The weeks passed and Beth ticked off the activities on the calendar as each came and went. The week before Christmas Beth was heading out the door to one more meeting when Andy asked her why the Nativity had not been set out yet. Beth turned and looked at the place on the mantle where the Nativity usually sat, she felt that internal vice tighten another couple of notches as she mumbled under her breath, “No room.” She arrived home late and the kids were already in bed and Andy had fallen asleep on the couch. She got ready for bed and went back downstairs to clean things up and get ready for the next day’s activities when she noticed Andy had set the Nativity out on the mantle.
The fire snapped and crackled cheerfully in the fireplace inviting her to rest a while. She stood there looking at the figures and realized she simply wanted Christmas to be over. She was tired of the endless lists of things that had to get done and places she had to be and deadlines she had to meet and she knew she had been standing there when she should have been doing things – there was no room in her day for standing and looking at Nativity scenes. No room for rest. “No room,” she whispered as she walked off to her next task.
Christmas Eve arrived and Beth pulled into an empty parking space in front of the Rescue Mission. She spotted Amy’s car a few spots over and headed to the entrance as she glanced at her watch. She hoped all would go smoothly as there was no room in her schedule for anything unplanned. They were supposed to finish serving dinner and wrapping gifts at the Mission by 6:30 which would leave Beth just enough time to go home, clean up and go to church with her family for the Christmas Eve Candlelight Service at 8:00.
Amy and Beth worked hard cooking in the kitchen and then served food for two hours straight. The next shift of servers arrived to relieve them and Beth headed toward the gift wrap area where she would spend her final hour at the mission wrapping gifts for the many people who would be spending Christmas there. Suddenly the air seemed stifling and Beth decided to step outside for a moment or two for some fresh air. She stepped through the rear door into a small courtyard behind the mission. The air was cold but welcome. Beth closed her eyes for a moment, leaning her head against the stone wall.
“Are you alright?” A man’s voice interrupted Beth’s quiet moment. She opened her eyes and found herself looking up at a tall, middle-aged man with a scruffy looking beard and ragged clothes. “I am fine. Just getting a little air,” Beth replied as she turned to head back inside. “The name’s Gabriel,” the man said as he extended his hand. Beth pretended not to notice his friendly gesture and reached for the doorknob as she said, “I really need to get back. There’s so much left to do.” Gabriel stepped closer and reached the door first and held it open for her as he said, “Can you come to the Christmas play we are doing tonight?” Beth tried to hide her surprise as she wondered what type of Christmas play this raggedy man would be in as she quickly replied, “No. I couldn’t possibly. No room,” she finished as she disappeared through the door and quickly headed to the gift wrap area. She glanced around the room and didn’t see Gabriel anywhere and assumed he had probably gone to the dining hall. She quickly put him out of her thoughts as she wrapped Christmas presents.
An hour later found Beth walking to her car wondering where the joy was she was supposed to feel – especially this time of year. But she didn’t feel joy. She reached her car and stood there a moment in the dark wrestling with something inside that was threatening to consume her. What was it she felt exactly? She closed her eyes and turned her face heavenward just as the first snowflakes began to gently fall and as they began kissing her face leaving droplets of moisture on her cheeks she realized what she felt inside: dry. “Oh Father, please help me,” she whispered into the darkness as she opened her car door and climbed inside, unaware that her prayer was heard long before it ever left her lips and help was waiting just down the road.
Beth pulled out of the parking lot onto the two lane road toward home. The snow was falling more heavily and she slowed her car as she entered a sharp curve. As she made the turn a deer suddenly sprang from the darkness directly in front of her and Beth slammed on the brakes, her car skidding to a stop as she heard a loud noise coming from her car. She sat clutching the steering wheel, her heart beating wildly as the deer stood staring at her in the headlights and then bounded off leaving her there to deal with this on her own. “Great!” she exclaimed as she rummaged through the glove box for the flashlight. She snapped the flashlight on, opened the car door and got out and walked to the other side of her car. Just as she feared, the rear passenger side tire was flat as a pancake. She walked back to the driver side, grabbed her cell phone from the center console to call the Auto Club but was unable to get a signal. “Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!” she yelled into the darkness to no one in particular.
“Are you alright?” a familiar voice asked. Startled, Beth pointed her flashlight in the direction of the voice and found Gabriel standing across the road. “Wh-what are you doing out here, Gabriel?” Beth asked nervously. Gabriel smiled as he explained, “We are having our Christmas play right over here in this field. You are invited, Beth.” He finished gently. Beth couldn’t remember telling him her name and it gave her an odd, unsettled feeling. She glanced at her watch as she said, “Sorry, Gabriel. I have to see to my car and then I have someplace to be and…” her voice trailed off and she heard Gabriel’s voice right next to her softly say, “I know Beth, you have no room.”
She turned around expecting Gabriel to be standing right behind her but was surprised to see he was still across the road. She stood shivering by her car, a puzzled look on her face as Gabriel said, “Don’t worry about your tire, Beth. Come,” he invited. She stood there shivering as she wrestled over what she should do. A thought occurred to her then that perhaps she could get a phone signal out in the field so she made her decision and quickly grabbed her car keys and her cell phone, shut the driver’s door and hit the lock button and headed across the street, hoping she wasn’t acting foolishly and that Gabriel wasn’t crazy.
It had stopped snowing and they walked together in silence, the fallen snow crunching under their feet. Beth stole a sideways glance at the odd man walking beside her. “He must be seven feet tall,” she mused to herself. He was in need of a haircut and a shave. His clothes were tattered and obviously meant for someone a bit shorter. She looked down at his shoes; they were mismatched. As she looked at his feet something else struck her; something about his walk. Yes, he walked with purpose; like he knew where he was going and what to do when got there. “Odd,” she thought to herself. She decided to ask a question that had come to mind when he had first mentioned the play, “What part do you have in the Christmas play?” she asked. “I’m a messenger,” He said quietly. “You mean you play an angel?” she asked. “Something like that,” He said. Beth looked up at him and thought she saw something flash in his eyes but quickly dismissed the thought as they came through a cluster of trees into an open field.
Movement caught her eye and she could make out sheep through the darkness their gentle bleating breaking the stillness. She could also see several small campfires dotting the field and men huddled around them, some stretching their hands toward the flames to keep warm. Beth looked at Gabriel as she asked, “Shepherds?” “Yes,” came the one word reply. Gabriel seated Beth at a small campfire. He handed her a wool blanket which she gladly put over her legs. He pulled something from his coat pocket and handed it to her as he said, “It’s the script. You can read along, if you like.” She looked down and saw that he had handed her a Bible. It fell open to the book of Luke. She was about to say something but when she looked up Gabriel was headed in the direction of the shepherds.
Beth began to read the text, “There were shepherds in a field outside of Bethlehem, tending their flocks by night.” She looked up as her eyes took in the scene before her, “Shepherds tending their flocks by night,” she whispered. It was then she noticed Gabriel standing near a group of shepherds. “But when did he have time to change?” she wondered out loud. He was clothed in white and looked quite impressive as she took in the realistic looks of fear mixed with awe on the faces of the shepherds. She looked down, following the words of Gabriel’s announcement to the Shepherds and looked up as the words came to life in the field before her very eyes.
Nothing prepared her for what happened next. All of a sudden the field shown brilliant as what appeared to be an army of men all every bit as tall as Gabriel and they were singing a song she had never heard before – it was a song of praise to God and the very ground beneath her seemed to reverberate with the sound of their joy. “Oh!” she cried. “But how…who…?” was all she could manage. Then just as suddenly as they had appeared they vanished and the field was cloaked in a strange silence.
The air was electric as she heard the shepherds’ excited tones and then they all began running. She read the text out loud, “They ran to the village and found Mary and Joseph and there was the baby lying in the manger.” She looked up to see the shepherds slow their pace as they approached what appeared to be a hollowed out place in the hillside. She caught a glimpse of firelight and a young man and woman sitting in its warmth. The shepherds stood peering inside when she heard it – a baby’s cry through the night. Beth saw a tiny hand extend up out of the feeding trough and the young woman brushed a tear from her cheek as she motioned the shepherds to come near.
As Beth sat riveted to the scene the young woman lifted the baby out of the manger. He was wrapped in strips of cloth, “just as the angel said,” Beth whispered. Something on the hillside above them caught her eye and she looked up just as the clouds lifted, revealing the hilltop and on it stood a cross. She caught her breath as she stood looking from the manger to the cross the tears flowing down her cheeks as a familiar voice softly asked, “Beth, do you have room?” She went to her knees in the middle of that field and talked to the Lord about her heart that she had allowed to become so busy that she had run out of room: no room to sit with Him, no room to read His Word, no room to sit in His presence.
Gabriel helped her up and she smiled as she noticed he was wearing his tattered clothes and mismatched shoes again. As they walked back toward her car it began to snow again and as she turned her face heavenward and the snowflakes gently kissed her face, leaving tiny drops of moisture on her cheeks, she realized she wasn’t dry on the inside anymore. Her once dry heart was drenched in joy. They arrived at the car and she stopped and stared. She turned a puzzled look at Gabriel. “Look at that,” he said, “someone fixed your tire.” Gabriel helped her into her car and before he closed the door she reached out and took his hand in hers. She couldn’t speak and he simply nodded and then closed her door.
She glanced at her watch and then out the window, intending to wave goodbye to Gabriel but he was gone. She pulled her cell phone from her coat pocket. “That’s funny,” she thought, “My cell phone has full power now.” She shrugged and called Andy and quickly told him about the flat tire and that she would just meet him at church. Then she dialed Amy’s number. She answered on the third ring and Beth told her how much she enjoyed the Christmas play the mission had put on and she hoped they would do it again and that Gabriel made an excellent angel. “Amy?” Beth said into the silence. Amy sounded confused as she answered, “Beth, I don’t have any idea what you are talking about. The mission didn’t do any Christmas plays. And Beth, there’s no one at the mission named Gabriel.” Beth set her phone down on the seat, her heart overwhelmed within her.
Fifteen minutes later she pulled into the church parking lot. She hurried inside and spotted Andy and the kids sitting in the third row. Andy squeezed her hand as she sat down and then kissed her cheek as he whispered, “I love you, Beth.” Then he reached over and pulled something from her hair as he whispered, “Beth, where on earth have you been?” She looked at the piece of straw Andy held in his fingers and she smiled as she said, “I’ve been to Bethlehem.”
I closed my laptop and through my tears whispered, “Lord, thank you. Thank you for coming. Thank you for going from the manger to the cross for me. Forgive me for the times I didn’t have room for you. Help me never to lose sight of who you are and why you came. When I am distracted by the world-lights will you take me back to Bethlehem? My heart looked into the eyes of Love as His voice thundered through my soul, “I will beloved. I will.”

An Original Conversations at the Well
Diana Morgan
© Copyright December 7, 2009

LOVE NOTES

2009-11-23T06:52:00.000-08:00

Have you ever received a love note? As the Lord and I sat in deep conversation this morning, He reminded me of times I have opened my lunch to find a love note; sometimes from my husband and sometimes from one of my children. Elizabeth still leaves me love notes by the coffeemaker (she knows my first stop of the morning :-) ) from time to time - complete with a smiley face. My husband will leave one in my lunchbag or sometimes stuck to the steeringwheel of my car. I treasure these notes. They are generally short words of encouragement reminding me I am being thought of; that I am important and matter and I am so very loved.

This morning as I opened my Bible to Jeremiah 31:3 there on the page was a love note tucked there just for me from Him whom my soul loves. It said, "Dear Diana, I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with lovingkindness." My heart looked up into the eyes of Him who pursued me with a love I did not know was possible. I opened my journal and wrote a love note back to Him. When my son was little he would leave me love notes too and he always signed them, "Love Your Son, Joshua Morgan", as if I might have forgotten who he was and to whom he belonged. I always wrapped him in my arms and assured him I knew who he was - my child. As I wrote my note to the Lord I didn't need to tell him who I was at the end. He knew it already as He wrapped me up in His embrace and whispered to my heart, "Dear one, I know who you are. You are my child. Precious and loved. I know your name."

Isaiah 49:16 says this: "See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands." Dear one, are you feeling discouraged this morning? Do you feel unloved, uncared for, unimportant? Beloved, the Lord has written you a love note and it is tucked in the pages of His Word. In it He lets you know you are being thought of; you matter; you are important to Him and you are dearly loved by Him. I believe the Lord loves to receive love notes back from us. As you sit with Him and pen your heart-thoughts you can know He won't lose it. He won't read it and wonder who it's from. He recognizes it and His eyes dance as He thinks on One dear to His heart. He knows the heart well who wrote it - His child. He knows your name for it is engraved on the palm of His hand.

Beloved, you've got mail. It is a love note from the very heart of God. It is tucked inside His Word just waiting to be opened. Will you open it now?

An original Conversations at the Well

Diana Morgan

November 23, 2009

Quiet Time Devotional Book

2009-11-20T07:09:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,

It is with great pleasure I announce that Conversations at the Well, Heart-to-Heart Conversations With God is now available in the Southwest Community Church bookstore. I have had women tell me they keep Conversations in their quiet time basket; what joy this brings me. I pray the Lord continues to draw people into relationship with Him and hearts will be made new as they sit at the Well in intimate Conversation with Him. Come. Come to the Well.

Love,

Diana Morgan

THE LIGHT WITHIN THE LIGHT

2009-11-17T06:25:00.000-08:00

THE LIGHT WITHIN THE LIGHT

…in your light we see light. Psalm 36:9

I am always amazed at how the Lord draws me into a new story to share. Yesterday as I went into my time with Him at the Well I stopped and lit a spiced cider candle that sits on a small table. I watched the flame dance and the warmth of the fragrance was soft and inviting. I began my time with Him in Psalm 36 and suddenly and without warning these words jumped off the page and into my heart, “in your light we see light.” I looked up to see Him whom my soul loves looking at the candle and I smiled as I saw the Light of the world bathed in the soft glow of the candlelight and then my heart got all excited and breathless as it raced back to Psalm 36:9 and read again, “in your light we see light.” I could not contain myself as my heart looked up at Him again and said, “In the light I see light.” I could tell by the light dancing in His eyes that He had arranged this moment for me and He came and took a seat very near me at the Well and His presence enveloped me there in the light. Oh the conversation we had about light.

We are entering the season of "Lights". Department store lights. Christmas tree lights. Christmas party twinkle lights. Outdoor Christmas lights. Candlelight. Fire light. Joy that lights up the eyes of dear ones welcoming sweet family members and friends into their hearts and homes. Light that sparkles in a husbands eyes as he watches his wife open a gift he planned just for her. But in the midst of all these lights there is another; the dearest Light of all. But oh how many of us miss Him: Light within the lights. Long ago the light of a star hung by unseen hands cast its light on a stable in a little known town called Bethlehem. And there in its light lay THE Light.

My dear friend, don’t let the busyness of this season steal from you the treasure of sitting with the LIGHT. Will you join me and step out of the fray and the noise and sit awhile at the Well as we have a Conversation about the Light Within The light.

Conversations at the Well
Monday, December 7th at 7:00pm

In His Love,
Diana
567-9339

INTO THE DEEP

2009-11-10T11:47:00.000-08:00

INTO THE DEEP

When He had finished speaking, He said to Simon, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.” (Luke 5:4)

I sat back and looked at the paragraph on my laptop screen; the same paragraph that had been there for weeks. I knew what I was writing about; at least I thought I did. But the story seemed to have taken a detour on its way and was hung up someplace within my heart and I couldn’t dislodge it. “Was this writers’ block?” I wondered to myself. I glanced at the clock; the day was ebbing away like the days before, and appeared it would end without my story being finished. I rubbed my eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Nikki, my thirteen year-old mix dog, wriggled in between the footstool and the chair I was sitting in and rested her head on my knee, looking up at me with what appeared to be sympathetic eyes. I suddenly felt the need to escape and headed down the hallway and returned a moment later with Nikki’s leash.
I snapped the harness around Nikki’s chest, her tail wagging in anticipation of venturing out. I opened the front door and gave a furtive glance over my shoulder in the direction of my laptop as we left the house. It was already dark and the air was cool as we walked. We hadn’t gone far when I heard them; two great horned owls calling to each other: first one and then the other replied back. The sound brought a smile to my lips. I stood still, cocking my head to listen, my gaze drawn to the night sky.
The sky was beautiful and the stars shone brightly like diamonds carefully laid out on a jewelers black velvet backdrop in order to make each facet shine at its best. Just then Genesis 1:1-2 came to mind: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” This was a verse I had been pondering for several weeks and was one that had been the initial catalyst for the story I was writing called ‘Into the Deep’.
I stood studying the night sky remembering that morning when I had been reading Luke 5 about Jesus sending Simon Peter out into “deep waters”. I remembered journaling about deep waters and then looked up other verses that contained the word “deep” in them. That is when I came upon the verses in Genesis 1, and the word picture caused me to stop in awe of what that moment might have been like; the Trinity working together to create something from nothing. The phrase darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters,” captured my imagination. I closed my eyes so that everything appeared dark and I imagined the third person of the Trinity hovering over the waters and the deep. I imagined a great stillness must have been over the scene before God’s voice thundered through the vast emptiness calling forth light for the first time.
“Hello.” His voice seemed to come from nowhere and yet everywhere all at once and I jumped a bit as the eyes of my heart opened to find Him standing beside me. “Hello,” I replied. “What are you thinking about?” He asked as we continued studying the night sky together. I was quiet as my heart seemed to run about in a panic trying to pull together all the thoughts I had been having about the deep. But my thoughts had scattered everywhere when I wasn’t looking and I froze there in His presence.
“How is ‘Into the Deep’ coming?” He asked. My heart gave Him a startled look. But of course He knew the title of the story…He knows everything; nothing is hidden from Him. I looked at my shoes as I muttered under my breath, “Errr, slowly.” I looked up to find Him looking intently at me and I knew He was searching the deep places of my heart as He asked, “What’s wrong?” “I haven’t been writing!” I blurted out. “So I’ve noticed,” He said quietly. “Lord, it’s like the story is right there on the edge of my heart but it won’t go any further. The more I read about the deep, the deeper the story seems to get stuck. I sit down to write and I keep coming up empty. I’m stuck!” I finished with a sigh. His eyes were serious as He spoke, “Why haven’t you come to Me about it?” “Why indeed?” I thought to myself but before I could reply we arrived home, and He beckoned me to follow Him to the Well of His Word to spend some time with Him there.
We went together to 1 Corinthians 2 and He spoke to me about Him crucified and the Father’s wisdom. Verse 10 caught my attention, “The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.” There was that word “deep” again. “Lord,” I whispered, “what is it about the deep you want to teach me?” It was then He took my stuck heart in His nail pierced hands and carried me back to where my journey into the deep had begun in Luke 5. As He spoke I felt the breeze off the Sea of Galilee brush my face and the words began to paint a vivid picture in my mind’s eye.
Simon stood and stretched before returning to the task of cleaning and mending his fishing nets. Discouragement mixed with frustration weighed down upon his heart as he worked. He and his brother Andrew along with their partners had been out on the water all night working the nets. He had been a commercial fisherman all his life; he was no newcomer to the trade. The weather conditions, the sea, they all indicated perfect fishing conditions; he should have had a good catch to show for his efforts. Instead all he had to show for his night of hard labor were dirty and damaged nets.
It was then he noticed a crowd moving down the beach. He watched for a moment but then returned to the task at hand. He stood examining the nets before moving to the other side and bending down continued cleaning them. A few minutes later movement caught his attention and he looked up from his work just as a familiar figure was boarding his boat. Not wanting to chance his fishing nets being taken by would-be fishermen, he gathered them up and headed to his boat.
He stopped a few feet away and looked up, his eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. He was about to speak but Jesus spoke first, asking Simon to push his boat a short distance from the shore so he could teach the people from there. Simon nodded in agreement as he began lifting the heavy fishing nets over the side of the boat and then moving to the bow pushed until the boat slowly began to move at which point he climbed on board and using the oars rowed a short distance from the shore as Jesus had requested. Jesus sat in the bow of the boat and began to speak to the crowd as Simon let the anchor down to keep them from going adrift. While Jesus taught, Simon continued working on the nets.
Listening to Jesus speak to the crowd reminded Simon of the first time he met Jesus. He remembered the day well. He had been working on the fishing nets – much like today when Andrew had found him and announced that he had found Messiah. He recalled clearly what Jesus had said to them that day. “Come, follow me and I will make you fishers of men.” They had left the nets behind and followed Jesus but then the need to make a living arose and they returned to their fishing nets and boats.
Not long after that he, along with Andrew and James and John were working the nets out on the lake when Jesus again called them to follow Him, declaring again that He would make them fishers of men. None of them understood what that meant but they followed and oh the things they saw. They heard Jesus speak and watched Him cast a demon out of a man in the Synagogue. After that Simon Peter and Andrew invited Jesus over for the evening meal and arrived at the house to find Simon’s mother-in-law sick in bed with a high fever; his wife tending to her but with no results. Jesus walked in and took hold of her hand and she was immediately well. The fever completely left her. In fact, she got out of bed and served them dinner – it was amazing!
It wasn’t long though and Simon Peter returned to what he knew: fishing. Fishing was more than making a living, it was who he was. He was a fisherman both in trade and in heart. He was brought out of his thoughts by Jesus who had finished addressing the crowd and stood looking at him intently. Simon had finished his work on the nets and was glad to see that Jesus was finished teaching. He was anxious to head back to shore and get some sleep before he and his partners began another long night of fishing.
Jesus’ voice interrupted Simon Peter’s plans as He said, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.” A torrent of thoughts rushed through Simon’s mind as Jesus’ command still hung in the air. This was not the time of day the fish would be biting. All Simon’s fishing knowledge and experience contradicted what Jesus was saying to do – what Jesus was telling him to do just didn’t make sense. Still there was something in Jesus’ voice – something in His eyes that invited Him to trust Him.
Simon replied, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.” Simon rowed out to the deep water and dropped the nets over the side expecting them to come up empty. He was wondering to himself how he was going to have time to clean and repair the nets again before they had to leave for their night of fishing. But suddenly the boat began to list to the right and dropped down so low that they began to take on water. He began struggling to haul in the net but couldn’t. In fact, both nets were so full he feared the boat would sink. He yelled for his brother and partners to come and help. They brought the second boat and transferred one of the fishing nets to them and their boat also nearly sank from the weight of the catch.
Simon looked at Jesus and realized who He was. Jesus was Messiah – the very Son of God. And he felt so unworthy to be in Jesus’ presence. He fell overwhelmed to his knees and bowed down at Jesus’ feet as he cried, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” Jesus looked Simon in the eye as He said, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will catch men.” Jesus’ words penetrated Simon’s heart and when they got to shore he left behind the largest single catch of fish they’d ever hauled ashore and followed Jesus into the deep.
I sat in quiet wonder pondering the story, when I heard His voice rumble through my soul as He said, “Diana, put out into the deep.” I remained quiet as His words echoed through my heart. Just then the book I had written caught my eye. The writing and publishing of that book had happened out in the deep waters. After the book was published and I was looking at the cover with a friend, she looked at me and said, “Next you will be speaking.” There was a loud silence that followed her words and suddenly I realized where I was. I was in the deep and I was terrified. I couldn’t touch bottom, I was too far out and so frantically I had headed back; back to what I knew; back to shore; back to the shallows.
I plopped down on the shore and stammered, “Lord, I’m…I’m” “In over your heart?” He finished my sentence for me. He always has just the right words to say. I simply nodded in agreement. He took me back to 1 Corinthians 2 and He spoke verse 5 into my heart, “…so that your faith might not rest on men’s wisdom, but on God’s power.” And then the end of verse 10: “The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.” He quieted my heart as I sat in His presence. I thought again of Genesis 1 and how the Spirit hovered over the deep and then 1 Corinthians 2:10 the Spirit searches the deep things of God and my faith doesn’t rest on man’s wisdom, but on God’s power. Man’s wisdom sinks in the deep – it has to stay in the shallows but God’s power commands the deep. I wondered then about the moment just before Simon let down the nets. Was the Spirit hovering over the deep just then – just before God’s voice thundered through the deep and the fish obeyed and swam into the nets.
I realized then that there were many layers to the deep, and I would never finish discovering them all. As I followed Jesus, He would always be drawing me deeper: deeper trust, deeper faith, deeper obedience; deeper surrender, always deeper. Jesus leaned in close then and I felt His breath on my heart as He whispered sweet and low, “Diana, put out into the deep.” I knelt at His feet then completely overwhelmed by His presence, and I worshiped Him. I rose then and splashed through the shallows praising Him who always holds me firmly in His grasp and I followed Him into the deep.

An Original Conversations at the Well
By Diana Morgan
November 9, 2009
©2009

CONVERSATION POINTS
INTO THE DEEP

FAITH AND EXPERIENCE
“The Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me.” Galatians 2:20

We have to battle through our moods into absolute devotion to the Lord Jesus, to get out of the hole-and-corner business of our experience into abandoned devotion to Him. Think Who the New Testament says that Jesus Christ is, and then think of the despicable meanness of the miserable faith we have –I haven’t had this and that experience! Think what faith in Jesus Christ claims --- that He can present us faultless before the throne of God, unutterable pure, absolutely rectified and profoundly justified. Stand in implicit adoring faith in Him, He is made unto us “wisdom, and we talk of making a sacrifice for the Son of God! Our salvation is from hell and perdition, and then we talk about making sacrifices!
We have to get out into faith in Jesus continually; not a prayer meeting Jesus Christ, no a book Jesus Christ, but the New Testament Jesus Christ, Who is God Incarnate, and Who ought to strike us to His feet as dead. Our faith must be in the One from Whom our experience springs. Jesus Christ wants our absolute abandon of devotion to Himself. We never can experience Jesus Christ, nor ever hold Him within the compass of our own hearts, but our faith must be built in strong emphatic confidence in Him.
It is along this line that we see the rugged impatience of the Holy Ghost against unbelief. All our fears are wicked, and we fear because we will not nourish ourselves in our faith. How can anyone who is identified with Jesus Christ suffer from doubt or fear! It ought to be an absolute paean of perfectly irrepressible, triumphant belief.

-Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest

Before we begin our exploration of the “deep” stop and ask the Lord to guide your time with Him. Examine your own heart. Ask Him to reveal anything in you that needs to be confessed. Psalm 139:23: Search me, O God, and know my heart, test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting.

I hope you read through 1 Corinthian’s 2:1-16 as we will be referring to portions of it throughout the evening.

In 1 Corinthians 2:4 what did Paul give as the reason for demonstrating the Gospel message by the Spirit’s power rather than wise and persuasive words? (fill in the blanks)
So that your might not on men’s , but on .
In your own words, what does this statement mean to you?
What kind of wisdom does Paul refer to in verse 7?

In verse 10 what does the Spirit search?

With these wisdom verses in your heart, let’s travel over to the Old Testament and take a walk through some verses about the Deep.

Look up each of the following verses and answer the questions.
Genesis 1:2 What was over the surface of the deep?
Genesis 2:21: What kind of sleep did God place Adam in?
Genesis 15:12 What kind of darkness enveloped Abram?
Jonah 2:3 What was Jonah hurled into? What swirled around him? What swept over him?

Do you find any kind of common thread in what you have just read about the deep?

Take a look at the following summary statements:
Genesis 1:2 tells us that there was a darkness over the surface of the deep. But over the deep the Spirit of God was about to move; something amazing was about to take place. In Genesis 2:21 we find that God placed Adam in a deep sleep just before God moved and created the first woman. In Genesis 15:12 Abram fell into a deep sleep and a dreadful darkness enveloped him just before God spoke and revealed His covenant to Abram. In Jonah chapter 2 Jonah cries from the depths of the big fish that the deep surrounded him just before God used him to save an entire city.

Turn with me to Luke 5 and read verses 1-11 paying close attention to verse 4-6. Please allow me to add a little context to these verses. First, for the purpose of tonight’s study, we are going to focus in on Simon Peter. This was not the first time that Simon Peter and Jesus met. Matthew 4:18 and Mark 1:16-20 both record the first time Jesus called Simon to follow Him.

In Mark 1:17 what did Jesus say to Simon Peter?

In Mark 1:18 what did Simon Peter do?

The second time we find Jesus and Simon Peter together is at the Synagogue in Mark 1:21-28
What miracle did Jesus do?

Simon Peter takes Jesus to his home where they find Simon’s mother-in-law ill. What does Jesus do?

Now let’s return to Luke 5.
What do we find Simon Peter doing in the opening verses of Luke 5?

Simon Peter had returned to what he knew: fishing. Sound familiar? Jesus called you to follow Him. You start out well and with good intentions but before you know it, you’ve gone back to what you know; back to what’s comfortable. Can you think of a time in your life when you experienced this (it doesn’t necessarily mean a sinful lifestyle)?

I want to show you something. In verses 1-3 Simon is found cleaning and repairing his nets after a night of fishing. Look at Simon’s statement in verse 5. Fill in the blank. Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and caught anything.”
Hmmm. I read that and wondered if they didn’t catch any fish why did they need to repair and clean the nets? Why do you think that is?
Even though they didn’t catch any fish, they caught other things in the nets. Maybe someone’s old sandal or a part of a sword or weeds and other debris.

Back up to verse 4. Write out what Jesus said to Simon Peter. When He had finished speaking, He said to Simon, “

What word do you see in there that we have been reading about?

What is Simon’s response? Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything.” Don’t miss this next sentence – it’s crucial “But because you say so, I will let down the nets.” Underline it. Highlight it.

Can you relate? You’ve been working hard and have come up empty. Here comes Jesus and He sends you into the deep. The deep, ever been there? We don’t like the deep. Our hearts can’t touch the bottom and we feel small, but Jesus calls us into the deep places.
Your thoughts are swirling with, “He just doesn’t get it. I’ve done that and it didn’t work. I let down the nets of my heart again and look what happened. Lots of repair work had to be done because of all the debris I picked up from the last time I was out there.” Jesus doesn’t relent. “Put out into the deep and let down your nets…”

Beloved, before we continue, let’s go back to 1Corinthians 2:9 Write this verse out

Jesus’ command is still echoing through your heart and you say, “I’ve already been doing that. I’ve been working hard. BUT because you say so, I will let down the nets. Because you say so, I will do it. What Jesus told Simon to do went against man’s wisdom. Go back and read 1 Corinthians 2:5 What does our faith rest on?

When Simon obeyed Jesus, what happened (verse 6)

Simon caught so many fish that he had to call for reinforcements. He needed another boat and crew to help get the catch to shore. In fact there were so many fish that both boats were sinking from the weight. That’s a LOT of fish!! Take note: It was the wrong time of day to be fishing. But God isn’t limited by the time of day or seasons or weather patterns. GLORY!!

What is Simon Peter’s response to what Jesus did in verse 8?

You can sum it up in one word Simon WORSHIPED Jesus.

Then Jesus says something interesting to Simon at the end of verse 10. He tells him Don’t be , from now on you will catch

What did Simon Peter do in verse 11?

Simon left the huge catch along with all his gear on the beach and followed Jesus.

My dear friend, where does tonight find you? Have you been dancing on the edge of fully following Jesus? Did you see the progression Jesus took Simon Peter on as He step by step drew him into a deep-water faith?

Go to Jeremiah 29:11 Read this verse slowly. Oh Beloved, God knew the plan He had for Simon Peter and He knows the plan He has for YOU. Plans to give you a future and a glorious hope!

Are you in the shallows and know that Jesus is asking you to ‘put out into the deep’? You list all your “why you can’t” reasons but remember what we learned in 1 Corinthians 2:5 Beloved, your faith doesn’t rest on man’s wisdom but on God’s power.

Are you in a dreadful deep? Is there a darkness over the dreadful deep? In Genesis the Spirit hovered over the deep just before the light came. But we have the Spirit DWELLING in us. Oh my friend, this is much better than hovering. He is IN you. GLORY!! With that GLORY ringing through your heart run with me to Romans 11:33

Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable His judgments, and His paths beyond tracing out!

Let the golden threads of this truth sink deep into your very heart. God loves you too much to leave you where you are. He continually draws you deeper: deeper trust, deeper faith, deeper love, always deeper. And as you walk in obedience and set off into the deep with Him and you let down the nets of your heart in total reliance on Him, Oh the blessings that come from the “deep” will be more than you can imagine or possibly contain. GLORY!

Jesus said, “Your name“ put out into the deep…

An original Conversations at the Well
Diana Morgan
November 9, 2009