We Can All Have Jesus

Being a Christian doesn’t make us immune to worldly troubles. Being a church doesn’t make us get everything right. Sometimes, a lot of times, we shoot our wounded, rather than help them recover. But, even our most epic failures can be righted by Christ, if we turn to Him in our struggles, not man.
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She’s not twenty-five yet,
Divorce papers have been signed,
Two beautiful children with her and,
The physical abuse left behind.
Though she works two jobs to survive,
Still, she’s silent about her days,
And even sitting in the choir loft,
She feels like a cast away.

You’re not the only one Daughter,
Not the first not the last,
Walking into church bearing a load,
We all got a future, present and past,
We can all have Jesus Daughter,
From the first to the last,
We can all know Him as Lord,
Can you hear His Spirit ask?

He feels like an outcast this teen,
Here among where he should belong.
Isn’t that what the words say?
The ones in so many of the songs?
No one is noticing his quiet despair,
Isn’t this supposed to be home?
But he goes to another school
So no one cares where he roams.

You’re not the only one my Son,
Not the first not the last,
Walking in church bearing a load,
We all got a future, present and past,
We can all have Jesus Son,
From the first to the last
We can all know Him as Lord,
Can you hear His Spirit ask?

She’s just turned forty and seldom eats,
Being size six was vital to her mother,
So she chews and spits out most her food,
She has it all, does it all, rushes one place to another,
Always hungry, she just wants an escape,
Today she’s thinking there’s only one way.
Right after morning worship she’ll take those pills,
Sitting there praying, “Lord, show me the way”!

You’re not the only one, Woman,
Not the first not the last,
Walking in church, bearing a load,
We all got a future, present and past,
We can all have Jesus Woman,
From the first to the last,
We can all know Him as Lord,
Can you hear His Spirit ask?

Who you are Friend, doesn’t matter,
What burden you bear not a thing,
The pew you sit in, position you work in,
All the pressures of earthly stings.
Your age, intelligence, status or health,
Don’t mean a thing right now,
And neither does your earthly wealth,
If You’re hurting, God has healing.

You’re not the only one, Friend,
Not the first not the last,
Walking in church, bearing a load,
We all got a future, present or past,
We can all have Jesus, Friend,
From the first to the last,
We can all know Him as Lord,
Can you hear His Spirit ask?
               d. f. a. v.  8/31/15
—Donna

Why Aren’t We Talking About ?

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Across the United States’ population of 318.9 million there are a professed 73% professed Christians. Of that number, 40% say they attend church regularly. Statically only 20% actually do. (73% of 319 million is 232.797 million, of that 47 million are in a church for services.)

What percentage of those Christians are also counted among the 12 million with a sexual addiction? A lot more than we want to address.  Why not?

This addiction destroys marriages, families and individuals. It adds chronic dishonesty to the mix and poor stewardship of one’s resources. More than that, it shreds the addicts relationship with God, until treatment is sought and healing begins. We’re talking about an addiction, it’s never going away. Like someone who finds a way out of substance abuse, it’s a day-to-day battle to remain “clean”.

Christians aren’t immune to sexual, substance, food, gambling and any other addiction. These individuals sit in church pews, are church leaders and clergy. Their marriages are failing. Parts of their lives are lies already. All of it will be without intervention.

We are hypocritical to deny it exists among us. We are equally hypocritical to deny these individuals and families a safe place to recover.

Chances are you know someone, or you yourself, have felt the impact of sexual addiction. You might not know it or be willing to admit it but you have.  The truth doesn’t change.

Why aren’t we talking about it? In church, out in the open, bringing the Son’s light into a horrific darkness?

Shame. Embarrassment. Panic. Fear of being turned upon, never seen as worthy or respectable again.

Instead, like ticking bombs among us, the time is quickly running out. It’s harder and harder for John Doe to keep a secret these days and near impossible for anyone in the public eye. Ask Josh and Anna Duggar.

Why aren’t we talking about sexual addiction among Christians? We should be.

—Donna

Creative Arts Share the Gospel

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Thinking I’m homesick for Heaven,
A place I’ve never even seen,
I try very hard to visualize,
Bring some sort of image before my eyes.
Yet, it’s hard for me to lay things out,
To picture streets of gold,
In my mind it disappears in a wisp.

Then my spirit comes alive.
With a reminder and a criticism,
If I’m so homesick for Heaven,
Shouldn’t I be sharing God in the life I’m given?
Telling others of Jesus on the cross?
Of His resurrection that can,
From sin set us free?

Time keeps tick-tocking us along,
And we gifted in the creative arts,
Shouldn’t we be sharing the old, old story,
Of God and His work in our history?
For we can give images,
Through our gifts and tools,
To point others to the Christ.

Let’s do the work for which we are called.
God wouldn’t bless us with these talents,
If He didn’t want us to understand,
The creative spirit He holds in His hand.
What a joy to share God’s love!
Celebrate what He creates,
When we allow Him to move through us.
                    d.f.a.v.  8/18/15
—Donna

Cottage-by-the-Sea #23, 8/17/15

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Abba Father:
Here. In our Cottage-by-the-Sea,
I want to stay, here, alone me and You.
Maybe I could stay until I drift away,
On clouds of heartache one stormy day.

I know. I’m wallowing in self-pity.
That’s why, I’ve been either quiet, or funny.
It hurts too much to see this disease,
Eat away at body, my mind, my want-to-be’s.

Wife? Not much of a helpmeet these days.
No. I interrupt everything, put burdens on.
Mom? Maybe a bit better, we talk a lot.
She is shielded from much, it’s all I’ve got.

Freely. I plea for extensions to spare her pain.
But, then, there’s You Lord, what do I do for You?
Guilt assails me with relentless reminders,
No way I ever repay You for all you are, and were.

Truly? If you allowed it all to be gone?
It couldn’t come close, to repay Your Son’s sacrifice.
If I could, I’d plea, I’d beg to know n
Could I stand up & say please don’t do that?

My body? It’s so broken down, Lord.
I need help with everything including living.
Here’s where I draw my strength.
Beside a sea, teeming with healing,

My soul revives with it’s waving.
Enough. I plea for You to use me.
Somewhere, somehow, for something.
Even if only to tell one person how great You are

God? You’re listening I know.
When it’s time, can we be here?
Our Cottage-by-the-Sea on the beach?
Those wheelchair tire tracks ending,
Where the waves break their curling?

Now, help me face today please, Lord.
                             d.f.a.v. 8/16/15
—Donna

A Lot of Questions Prayer

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Why is offending someone so easy?
Hurting someone as common as a sneeze?
Saying “I’m sorry” such a difficult thing?
The slightest hurt so offending?
When did raising self-centered children become okay?
When did God start owing us only great days?
When did violence solve every problem?
Rioting become the way to further resolve’em?
How can we look at nature and deny there’s a God?
When did man create life from sod?
When did we speak a universe into existence?
Create everything from nothing without any resistence?
Why is following God said to be a crutch?
But, consulting a psychic; not so much?
When did outward beauty become the “for all”?
While inward beauty counts little, if at all?
When did my prayers become one question after another?
Marriage not solely between a father and mother?
When did God’s Word become pick and choose?
When did that become a win not a lose?
Lord God, can you hear my prayer?
Oh Holy God help us out down here?
Please.
Love,
—Donna

Cottage-by-the-Sea #22 8/11/12

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Abba Father:
You’re in Heaven and Your Spirit is here,
You’re in my heart and others as well.
I lift up my praise to You this day,
Will You please draw this daughter near?

Rolling out onto the beach, tracks in the sand,
My heart thirsts to want Your will,
As real here on this Earth,
As the scars on Your feet and hands.

Father, forgive me this day of any sin I’ve committed,
Any sin remind me, I’ll confess it!
I’ll freely forgive those who’ve hurt me,
After all the forgiveness You’ve demonstrated.

The ocean breaks waves bold and free,
Taunting me to come in and play,
But it’s a temptation I cannot give in to,
Please Abba, keep temptation from me.

Off the coast there’s a storm gathering strength,
It’ll be here within hours it’s clear.
Deliver me even now from the fear traps of Satan,
Like how far inland it’s reach will be in length.

Keep me calm, direct my path and wheelchair,
Bind Satan and all his deceptions,
I love this Cottage-by-the-Sea,
But I know You may need me more “out there”,

And I’m willing to go where You can get me,
Willing to place my life on the line,
Many will face today a storm they can’t find,
Looking with their dulled and blinded eyes.

Maybe these words will touch a chord,
Maybe this prayer You’ll use to prick a heart,
Whatever the case God please let me,
Use my last ounce of strength to point to You, Lord.

Amen,
Donna

Pour Me Out, Sweet Jesus

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Lord,
You’ ve written out my life,
Only You could know me as I am,
And still bless me.

Pour me out, Sweet Jesus, pour me out.

My downfalls, my sins, my failures
Made upon the path of my willfulness,
Drench them in Your renewal.

Pour me out, Sweet Jesus, pour me out.

Empty me and fill me to the brim,
With Yourself and Your faithfulness,
Let my feet find only Your path.

Pour me out, Sweet Jesus, pour me out.

Pour me out until I am drier than desert sand,
So hot winds grow hotter swirling round,
Give to those in need all I have and am.

Pour me out, Sweet Jesus, pour me out.

Only then will I have begun,
To turn myself one hundred percent on You,
And away from the world’s offers.

Pour me out, Sweet Jesus, pour me out.
Amen.
                         d.f.a.v. 8/4/15
—Donna

Thoughts on Heaven

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Photographer – Cyn Carpenter, photo used by permission.  PhotoGrid used to add text to photo.  All rights reserved.

Heaven—
What does Heaven hold?
Besides it’s walls of jasper?
Besides it’s streets of gold?

Heaven—
John saw gates of single pearls,
Gems layered in it’s foundation
Truly an unbelievable new world.

Heaven—
We’ll meet God there face-to-face,
Go through the final judgment,
Finished, at last, this earthly race.

Heaven—
In the physical presence of God at last,
Glorious, unimaginable sights and sounds,
A final new beginning, all the old is past.

Heaven—
Beyond the little we’ve been told,
It’s not a port you come and go from,
Nor the place our lives stop to unfold.

Heaven—
Here’s every blessing, every dream,
Reunions, new friendships, praise and worship,
All this and more a part of daily seams.

Heaven—
“Heaven’s riches are rooted in Heaven’s God.”*
So there’s no doubt in my heart,
Of the infinite wonders from our Creator God.
                d.f.a.v. 8/2/25
—Donna

Pour Me Out

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Photo taken by Martha Gaston Taylor, used by permission. PhotoGrid used by poet/blogger to add text to photo.

Lord,
You alone know me complete,
Know all my lefts,
Know all my rights,
Know more of me than I, myself.

Pour me out Sweet Jesus,
Use every drop of me You can,
No one else can use my weakness,
To do anything for good.

You alone know Your needs,
Know the who’s,
Know the why’s,
Can I be a vessel for You, Yourself?

Pour me out Sweet Jesus.
Use every drop You can
No one else can use my brokenness,
To do anything for good.
        d.f.a.v. 07/29/15
—Donna