Monday, June 22, 2009


ISAIAH 62: 1-5 (my paraphrase)

Hear this: I will not withhold what is good from Cheryl; not only that, I will fight for Cheryl with all My strength, for as long and as hard as it takes. When it comes to Cheryl, I will not rest until she is safe in my arms, contentedly, trustingly gazing into my eyes.

She is mine; I am hers. She is a veritable sun, reflecting Me in such a real way that no one will be able to help but see and be warmed by the rays. And in a curious way that only Love understands, I reflect her, as well. And make no mistake: I haven't cleaned her up and this is not some sort of altruistic project. This is Love.You see…I call Cheryl by a new name…that’s how complete her transformation is. Her parents named her at her birth but this time I get to name her – a name I chose before she was even in her mother’s womb. That new name symbolizes the new woman she is, or, more accurately, the woman she always was inside. After all, this new woman is who I created her to be for all eternity. It's not like I look at her with forgiving eyes or that I use my power to "not see" her faults. This is who I always created her to be, and she is perfect for me today. I wouldn't change a thing.
I SEE Cheryl, in all that she is, and I love her with every bit of me. Others might see "just a woman," but not me. Let me tell you about this woman…

Cheryl is My treasure and joy.
With Cheryl beside Me, I have a beautiful crown on My head, reflecting Me and delighting Me.
Cheryl is a precious jewel that is so beautiful I can not even put it down. I can’t help it! I have to hold this jewel in My hand, turning it over, gazing upon it with joy and delighting in its beauty.

No one who knows Cheryl will look at her and see forsaken, forgotten, not-good-enough, empty or lonely. I have built a palace in the forgotten places, with beautiful pavilions and gardens on the exact spots that were formerly walled off because of ill-use and pain. My favorite places to be are in the gardens that were fertilized with her tears. Yes, there was tremendous pain that happened on this ground, but look at the beauty that grew from that pain. This palace is my home; I want to be nowhere else but here. Cheryl is a girl who was once lonely, sad and single but I picked her from among all the girls, made her Mine, changed her name to Mine and made a Home for her – in My heart and in My life. And not only that, I have made My home in HER. No one can look at this palace and see the emptiness of before. No one with eyes can look at this bride of Mine and see that single, lonely, unloved girl of yesterday. All they have to do is look at Me looking at Cheryl, the way My eyes light up when she walks into the room, the way I hold her close as often as I can. Look at the way I want Cheryl and only Cheryl beside me, in My heart and in every detail of My life…does this girl look single to you?
And this love of Mine isn’t pity or obligation. Oh, no! I watched this girl from afar, wanted her, picked her, won her, loved her and made her Mine. And I won't stop loving her now that I have her; every day with her is a gift that I treasure and every moment is a chance to be part of her life. Want to know why I can’t wipe this smile off of my face? It’s Cheryl! She is all that I desire. I will spend eternity being happy that she sits beside me and smiles up into my eyes.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Makin' a Mess

So the Deep Truth About Messes has all of a sudden become very real to me. It's changing me. And it's not just about physical Messes that involve paint on the rug, gooey cake batter or cupcake-icing in crevices it should have been physically impossible for it to get in, although that would actually be a really great lesson in the particular phase of life I'm in.

Making Messes means facing feelings head-on, greeting them, finding a good spot for them to sit and entertaining them until they are ready to leave.

Making Messes means letting my old "stuff" resurface and gasp for air, throwing them a life-preserver and reeling them into the dock.

Sometimes it might even mean giving them CPR, handing them a warm, fluffy towel and sitting by the fire with them.

Sometimes it even means letting that rescued-"stuff" kick the crap out of me.

Making Messes means getting out a good pair of pruning shears, taking a good look at the thoughts, priorities and habits I've got growing and cutting the hell out of em', even some of the pretty ones, because I know this will leave room for something even better.

Making Messses means taking a risk. Climbing up that ladder to the highest of really high high-dives that I can't even look at without feeling like puking. Looking down through the air between the me that's standing here and the me I want to be...impossible amounts of air. Stepping forward, toes hanging off, knees shaking, stomach flip-flopping and...


These messes are....messy. I like to avoid them, pretend they're not there, hide them under that big rug no one looks under, dress them up in pretty clothes and generally just not deal. I'm a clean kinda' girl. Don't enjoy dirt. Hate to feel greasy and grimy. Like to be put together when I face the world. Know what I mean? So the prospect of all this mess is definitely not something I relish.

But there's a lot of work to be done. And the results are always so wonderful. So here I go...

Let's get messy. And heck...a cute apron never hurt anybody!