Echoes From Zion

My hands delicately touched the ivory keys. In reverent solace, I took a deep breath as I sat in the darkness of this unfamiliar house. Slowly, I began to let my fingers flow with the emotions I was feeling. It had been months since I had sat at a piano. But this piano was nothing like the one I had known before: this piano was a perfectly tuned Baby Grand, worth thousands of dollars. The piano I had know - my piano - was an old out of tune spinet that I had purchased at a yard sale for $50. And in that moment, as my fingers danced across the meticulously cared for ivory, I realized how deeply I missed my old out-of-tune friend. It was a feeling that came unexpectedly, this grief. It startled me. So, I quickly stuffed it down inside of myself and shook it off as nonsensical. But as warm tears began streaming down my cheeks while I played this Grand, I soon realized that this was an emotion I could no longer deny: I was grieving the loss of my piano. The loss of my piano had come a...

I didn't know what to say. I had replayed the appropriate response in my mind multiple times but could never land on something substantial. Now, here I was in the moment I had been preparing for with absolutely nothing to say. I was really a stranger, after all, to this very private person. We had only met once before. So what could I say to them knowing that they had recently lost a child? Other strangers standing there with me said, "I am so sorry for your loss," and "I'm praying for you." Me? I stood there in awkward silence. I drove away that day replaying my idiotic behavior. I felt so foolish. Why hadn't I offered condolences? Why hadn't I said that I, too, was sorry for their loss? At the time, it all sounded so flat, so hollow. Now, I just felt like a fool, like one of Job's friends who just sat there and said nothing for an entire week. An entire week! Yep. I was now that fool. I had never suffered such devastating loss as the passin...

No one can tell a story like God can. If you were to combine Shakespeare, Tolkien, Austen, and Dickens into one fantastic writer, you could still not come close to the imaginative, creative, fascinating stories that God composes. His stories have layers and hidden nuances and double meanings like none other. Open your bible and read through its history and you will find the greatest literary work on the planet. What makes this book the greatest (outside of the obvious life-transforming gospel and theology it carries), is that these layered true stories and complex plots were not written as stories: they were written as invitations - invitations to experience what is being told first hand. You see, the bible records more than words of life, more than doctrine, more than theology and truth -  it records the location of an actual veiled Kingdom filled with endless treasures that are more of a reality than the world we see. Every parable, every lesson, every life-changing truth is an i...

I am writing a book called, "Lessons From the Tree." I don't post that here to brag or in hopes of sparking interest, because let's be honest - I reckon that only my mom and a couple close friends even read this blog...and the same will probably be said for my book. I mention it today because the book is all about learning to hear God's voice. The title comes from the vision that I often see in prayer: Jesus and me sitting under an ancient tree in a beautiful garden. This image has come to me countless times now and each time I allow the scene to unfold, I am blown away by the lessons the Spirit teaches me there. Under the cascading branches, I have learned about God's holiness, his mercy, his never-ending love for me. I have learned about how he sees me as beautiful even in my weakness, how he loves even the smallest area of obedience, and how he loves me - not forces me - into greater faithfulness. All of these lessons, taught right under that tree, are tied...

I once heard a comedian say that cranberries had made their way into everything: cran-apple, cran-grape, cran-Sprite, cranberries in cereals, in desserts, and so on. It was one of those observational jokes that makes you go, "Oh, yeah! You're right!" Well, I have observed a trend in my local Christian bookstore, on my local Christian radio, and all over the internet. The word "worship" has snuck in everywhere. Now, I don't mean worship as in devotion or sacrifice - I'm talking about worship music. For the last few years worship music has been all the rage. Christian bands who are known more for their poppy, fun, kind of lyrics, or bands that are known for their hard-rock sound, suddenly came out with "worship albums." I mean, we kind of have to scratch our heads and say, "Isn't it ALL suppose to be worship?" But, I understand what they mean - they are cutting through the artistry in order to simply praise His name. Or are they? ...

Buzz Words. They are everywhere. You cannot escape them. And they are always changing. In today's world of social media, we see buzz words come and go so quickly, that many of us don't even know what the latest cool catch phrase is (For those of you who are still using words like, 'groovy, ' 'daddy-o,' or 'swell,' ya' might as well skip to the end of this post, because you'll REALLY be lost for a while.). Remember when phrases like OMG, LOL, and ROTFL were simply used for texting and not for everyday vernacular?  Remember when the word "Extreme" was posted on everything from sports activities to bible devotionals? And who could forget a number of years ago, when the buzz word that saturated the landscape like oil in a soggy tater tot was, "Synergy"? Commercials, politicians, pastors, CEO's - everyone who was someone - was using this word to explain business, life, or whatever endeavor in which they were apart.Yes...

Part of the fun of Thanksgiving when I was a child was all of the crafts, songs, and holiday lessons I got to do at school. From tracing my hand into a turkey, to singing songs about grateful hearts, school was always super exciting when Thanksgiving rolled around. One of my favorite activities involved making over sized Quaker hats out of construction paper. I would carefully cut out a long black hat with wide brim, then use my Elmer's glue to paste on the gold buckle smack dab in the middle of the hat. Some cool classrooms even got to make construction paper collars to make their outfit complete. But, whether you were in the super cool class or the semi-cool class  (like me), each kid would don their pilgrim apparel,  circle up for story time, and eagerly listen to the tales about the wide brimmed hat wearing pilgrims who made their impetuous journey on the Mayflower to America. Then, in reverence and adoration, they celebrated a day of giving thanks to God for their new hom...

Have you ever noticed the placement of Thanksgiving on our calendar? It's right when winter has begun to settle upon us with cold winds, bare trees, and brown landscapes, that we as a nation celebrate a day of Thanksgiving. It would seem more natural to give thanks when spring flowers are in full bloom or when the first crops of the summer are brought into our barns. But instead, we offer thanks at the beginning of the bleakest part of the year. I believe that the placement of this holiday is no accident. God gave us seasons in order to teach us about His ways. In fact, I find it fascinating that Genesis 1:14 tells us that God first gave the sun, moon, and stars, not as lights for earth, but for signs and seasons. The secondary blessing is that they give us light! But the Lord first intended the natural seasons of the world to be a podium where lessons are taught. He shows us things in the natural in order to teach us spiritual truths (1 Cor. 15:46) So, what is the lesson here ...

Back when we lived in Oklahoma, my husband and I would occasionally turn on the TV to find a local minister who was one of the angriest people we had ever seen. He didn't shout. He didn't yell. But the words he spoke were filled with venom. He would speak to the women in the congregation and call them dogs, Jezebels, and worse. He would refer to his congregation as idiotic and stupid. It was almost comical on one hand because it seemed so unreal, so absolutely absurd. But in all seriousness, we would watch, realizing that this was no laughing matter: this man had a sizable congregation who was repeatedly being beaten up all in the name of the 'prophetic edge.' For years, the church body at large was like that Oklahoma congregation. We sat under a venomous teaching that told us prophetic ministry was brash, in your face, and terrifying. I know personally, growing up in a small Pentecostal church, that whenever a visiting minister was speaking at my church, I sat in the...

We are so blessed to be living under the New Covenant. No longer do we approach God with the blood of goats and bulls. No longer do we have a weak representative who goes to God on our behalf. No longer do we only have access into His presence once a year (See Hebrews 7:27-28, 8:7-13, 10:19-22). Because of the blood of the New Covenant, we all are made priests unto God, accessing His presence day and night with confidence, no longer bound by laws written on stone, but by the law of the Spirit written on our very nature (Romans 6-8).  What a day to be alive! There is such grace under this New Covenant that the new testament writers warned us about the license some would say they found in it. Many were boasting in the early apostle's day that they could sin freely because God's grace had covered them. This is why Paul penned such truths as, "Shall we sin because we are not under the law but under grace? Certainly not!...How shall we who died to sin live any longer in it?...

I love to spend time in the woods. With the branches reaching the heights and the canopies all around me, the beauty I see makes my heart feel alive. There are many reasons to love the woods: the smell of the forest, the crunch of leaves beneath my feet, the rocks, the moss, and the critters scampering about. But above all of these qualities, there is one reason why I love the woods: God taught me to hear his voice here. As often as I could, when I was young, I would venture into the sanctuary of my wooded backyard, climb onto my swing set , and lift my song with the trees that surrounded me up to my Father. It was here that my heart was first moved to know Him; to know the one that made such beauty all around. I would swing back and forth, back and forth, keeping the motion in rhythm with my love songs. One song that I sang over and over was a song called, "The Voice of God". The words of the chorus went like this: I hear His voice every time I hear a newborn baby cry, wh...

Remember those old Looney Tunes Cartoons where there was always an anvil falling from the sky? As a kid, I would see those anvils falling and wonder, "How the heck did they get that thing in a tree?" Or in a plane, or in a skyscraper, or whatever other high object it was falling from. Not to mention, "Where is this ACME company located and how does one go about buying sooo many anvils?" I also always wondered what on earth the anvil was really for. Well, I think I've finally learned. Over the last couple months, I've been pondering the Lord's Sovereignty.   I know what you are thinking: that's a subject far to grand for my pea-sized brain to grasp. But still, my heart has been drawn to this side of His nature. He IS Sovereign. He raises up nations and tumbles them down. He holds the heart of the King in His hands and moves it as He wills. He is, after all, GOD. He can do as He pleases. In pondering His sovereignty, I have naturally contemplated t...

Every weekday morning, I awake before dawn. I quietly and sleepily make my way down the stairs where I enjoy my first cup of coffee in my overstuffed chair. I always love listening to the early morning sounds of birds lifting their chorus. I close my eyes and sip my coffee to the sweet sound of nature praising God in the dawning light. This morning, however, was a bit different. I still quietly and sleepily made my way down the stairs to enjoy my coffee. However, this morning as I settled into my overstuffed chair, I heard thunder in the distance. Gazing out my window, I noticed a coming storm. Lightning and thunder was peeling in the dark sky, steadily creeping towards my house. It was in this instance that I noticed my familiar morning greeting: the birds were still singing in their trees. I sat in awe, listening to the birds noisily lift their voices as the steady rhythm of thunder and the flashing dance of the lightning drew closer and closer to their habitation. It was such a st...