An email I recieved

*The 'Middle Wife' by an Anonymous 2nd grade teacher *
*

I've been teaching now for about fifteen years. I have two kids myself,
but the best birth story I know is the one I saw in my own second grade
classroom a few years back.

When I was a kid, I loved show-and-tell. So I always have a few
sessions with my students. It helps them get over shyness and usually,
show-and-tell is pretty tame. Kids bring in pet turtles, model airplanes, pictures of
fish they catch, stuff like that. And I never, ever place any boundaries or
limitations on them. If they want to lug it in to school and talk about it, they're welcome.

Well, one day this little girl, Erica, a very bright, very outgoing
kid, takes her turn and waddles up to the front of the class with a pillow stuffed under her sweater.

She holds up a snapshot of an infant. 'This is Luke, my baby brother, and I'm going to tell you about his birthday.'

'First, Mom and Dad made him as a symbol of their love, and then Dad put a seed in my Mom's stomach, and Luke grew in there. He ate for nine months through an umbrella cord.'

She's standing there with her hands on the pillow, and I'm trying not to
laugh and wishing I had my camcorder with me. The kids are watching her in amazement.

'Then, about two Saturdays ago, my Mom starts saying and going, 'Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh!' Erica puts a hand behind her back and groans. 'She walked around the house for, like an hour, 'Oh, oh, oh!' (Now this kid is doing a hysterical duck walk and groaning.)

'My Dad called the middle wife. She delivers babies, but she doesn't have a
sign on the car like the Domino's man. They got my Mom to lie down in bed
like this.' (Then Erica lies down with her back against the wall.)

'And then, pop! My Mom had this bag of water she kept in there in case he got thirsty, and it just blew up and spilled all over the bed, like psshhheew!' (This kid has her legs spread with her little hands miming water flowing away. It was too much!)

'Then the middle wife starts saying 'push, push,' and 'breathe, breathe.
They started counting, but never even got past ten. Then, all of a sudden, out comes my brother. He was covered in yucky stuff that they all said it was from Mom's play-center, (placenta) so there must be a lot of toys inside there.. When he got out, the middle wife spanked him for crawling up in there.'

Then Erica stood up, took a big theatrical bow and returned to her seat. I'm sure I applauded the loudest. Ever since then, when it's show-and-tell day, I bring my camcorder, just in case another 'Middle Wife' comes along.

Worship

In light of recent prophecies, finding of old visions, and a renewed appreciation for who God is, I am in the mood to worship!

But, it seems that nothing I am doing, or can do, is, or will ever be, enough to express to my God how thankful I am, or who brilliant He is.

I can sing, shout, dance, spin in circles, speak in tongues, tell others about Him, bow prostrate before Him, weep endlessly, jump in pure elation, say thank you with every coming breath, feed orphans and widows, give to great causes, advance the Kingdom, and yet...none of it seems enough. None of it comes anywhere near even a glimpse of how marvelous my King is!

How frustrating it must be to constantly be in this reality.

How helpless we feel when we cannot contain and simultaneously not express the joy our Lord has given us.

If only You had given us mouths to speak, Adonai, Dayenu!

Aaahhhh! How can I express my love for my God!?
My heart is exploding, but my chest cannot release the full of it's power.

Help me to worship You in spirit and truth. Help me to do all I can to praise you.

You have filled my heart with wonder. You made me to worship. Lead me to worship You.

How He loves us

This has been my jam all day. Praise God! I really enjoy these lyrics.

Oh How He Loves Us–Jesus Culture

He is jealous for me
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy
When all of a sudden
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory
I realize just how beautiful you are
And how great your affections are for me

And oh, how He loves us so
Oh, how He loves us
How He loves us so

Yeah He loves us
Oh, how He loves us
Oh, how He loves us
Oh, how He loves

We are His portion, and He is our prize
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes
If grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking
So Heaven meets Earth like a sloppy, wet kiss
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest
I don’t have time to maintain these regrets
When I think about the way
He loves us

---

Frustrated Love

Is it possible to be well-adjusted just because you have to?

I really don't know why God chose me.

Sometimes I wish He hadn't. Cause I don't feel worthy. I don't like that there's a price and a gift that I can never repay, or cancel out. And, I mean, I get it. But, man, it would almost be easier if He hadn't. If I had been able to take all the hate and rage and bitterness with me to my early grave. At least then I would have gotten what I deserved. Wouldn't be under some God that expects the most impossible things from me. Expects me to be secure, and solid and trusting. Sometimes, sometimes I just can't! I can't and I don't want to.

And I feel like He loves me too much. Puts too much into me. Into our relationship. The way He is with me. How gentle and loving He approaches me. Like I'm so gentle, and He can't move slow enough, because I might break.

And other times, other times I think that He's rougher with me. And I know it's me, because He never changes. It's always my attitude. And I feel like collapsing into tears so much lately. But I won't, because that's weak. It's not what a strong person does. There is no last straw for those that bear others' secrets. Nor that bear their own.

God, I don't know what to do with this love. You can't expect me to handle this well. Why do you want so much of me? So much for me? Why isn't it enough to just save my soul? Why isn't it enough to call my name? Why can't you be satisfied with the least of me?

What is it that you see that's worth preserving? That's worth dying for? Why do you take pity on me?

I just want to scream and pull at my hair and question Him. But I can't face Him. I just think about Job, and how God responded to him. I don't want to darken the counsel of the Creator of the universe without wisdom and understanding.

I don't get it God. I just don't freaking get it!

Mornin'

Top o' the Mornin' to ya!

Hey there, faithful readers. I am sorry for making all of you go without for so long.

Hope I didn't come off as depressed or crazy. But if I did, at least the crazy part's true.

Anywho, every since I began going to 7am prayer Tuesdays and Thursday, I have been getting woken up early. I mean, God is taking this whole, making me into a Proverbs 31 woman seriously.

I did not set an alarm for this morning, and yet, 8am sharp, who's up? Yep. Me! Um, Jesus...it's Saturday. But, I feel rested, and that is all I really need.

But I wake up with the Spirit of God around me. I can feel Him trying to get closer to me. And I love that. I love that, as soon as I wake, my God is there beside me, and my spirit eagerly desires to commune with Him.

This morning I woke with these lyrics in my mind: I am desperate, desperate, for more of You. And I can't wait another, day to see You move. How my heart is hungry, for the chance, to sit at Your feet, and feel Your presence, feel Your presence in the deepest part of me."

And it was followed by this prayer: God, I AM desperate for you. Only you can fill me and never disappoint me. God, I need you right now. I have never before felt this way, never before felt this need for you. I feel like something new has been woken inside of me, and now it won't go away. God, I need only you. Lord, please be my everything, as you've always been, please continue to be. I need you to fill me God. Keep my eyes on you."

I love my Lord. And I can't wrap my mind around Him loving me. In this time of internal chaos, and external storm, I can feel the might of my God. His power has never left me. His Spirit has never forsaken me. His strength is something that I know is real just as much as I am. My God is a consuming fire! His jealousy for me is righteous and loving. No greater love has a man than to lay down his life for his friend. I know of no other, no not another, king like my King, Jesus.

Thanks for reading this, hope it encourages you. Seek His face. Pray for more. He will deliver, and whatever wait or trial, would have been worth it.

"You are clothed with splendor and majesty. He wraps Himself in light, as with a garment." Psalm 104

Today

This morning, my God woke me up, as He does every morning.

But this time, I think it was to spend some time with me. To give me a little extra for today.

And now, I realize why. Instead of focusing on my love for my Lord, I had wandering eyes, and my steadfast heart wavered a little.

Even though I've memorized Proverbs 4:23 "But above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.", I did poorly in my application of it.

I thank God that my 'crush' was shared with a godly man. Someone who did not take advantage of it. After consulting with others, and praying about it he's decided to not pursue anything, and I agree.

But it does hurt a little. Should it? I don't think so. I let my guard down. Opened myself up to dwell on things I was not, am not, ready for.

So, today, I hope it's okay, to cry a little cry for you.
And, today, I hope it's okay, to shed a few tears for us too.
For tomorrow, it's easy to say, that God's will is where I'll go,
But, please, today, I hope it's okay, to let me feel this sorrow.

Well, today, it may be okay, to look forward and move ahead.
But, tonight, when I'm away from light, and snuggled in my bed,
And, this eve, as I float between, sheet and comforter warm,
that tonight, it will be alright, and I will be unharmed by this storm.

You know, today, I don't feel okay, my shaky hands are a sign,
That, last night, I took it not slight, that you just might be mine.
And, so soon, this afternoon, reality came cold and wet,
that, tonight, I hope it's alright, if I shed a few tears in your stead.

So, today, I hope it's okay, to cry a little cry for you.
And, today, I hope it's okay, to shed a few tears for us too.
For tomorrow, it's easy to say, that God's will is where I'll go,
But, please, today, I hope it's okay, to let me feel this sorrow.

*I'll miss you* (^_^)

This Morning

So, today I was woken up at 7:48am.
There was no alarm, no loud sound. No groggy feeling and desire to return to sleep.
Just a stillness that I knew meant my God wanted to speak with me.
He told me some stuff like, turn to channel 12. The day show was on, I think.
(I think that was just a test of my obedience.)
Anyway, God showed me something like this:
A father, holding his daughter is what looks to be the softest, fluffiest pink blanket ever. And he offers her to a man standing in front of him, with a sorrow so clear in your eyes, you feel it in your own heart. I still feel it. And God seemed to say something like this, : "Such it is when a man gives his daughter away to marriage."
Another vision was the same father, but this time the daughter was a toddler. He was walking her down the aisle.
And God said this, : "Such is it for any man who gives his daughter's hand in marriage."

Understanding? No matter what the age, a father always feels as though he is giving his baby (literally), baby girl to someone else. It is the strength of the father, to give his daughter into another man's protection, to trust another human with his daughter's life, but it is also his sorrow.

Then, God danced with me. La Rumba and the Hustle. While spinning and stepping, I spoke to God my recent worries and prayers. Ending our dance with me hugging his waist, admitting that I wanted to be nothing but His.

I lay on the floor, prostrate in prayer.
I'll try to explain what I saw.
Imagine this: A man walks up, his face is a blur, he has on a tan hat. He walks a few steps, and stops as he reaches a tree with small, round red berries all over it. His hand, only a blur, the fingers are not readily distinguishable, lifts up, and removes a berry from it's own pair of leaves. An older man, the father, watches from the tree, hidden mostly by the other leaves and branches. At this moment, the feeling he has is mostly bitter, the sweet has yet to come.

God whispers this to me, "Like a man picking the choicest berry from a tree, is a daughter plucked from the hands of her father."

Understanding? Parents spend their lives, the better part at least, nurturing us, and attempting to prune all the bad things from us. Time, effort, love and care are poured into us. Yet, a man can come, and, in the blink of an eye, remove us from his (the father's) reach of care and protection.
We (the daughters) now fit in the palm of this new hand. The hand of our husband, trusting that he will never throw us to the ground unwanted, or crush out of us the little juice we can muster with his heel. And our father watches, hoping the same. Though the tree provides everything the berry needs during its time attached to it, once it falls, or is removed, from the tree, the only thing it takes with it, is hope.

Yikes!
Anybody out there have questions, comments, concerns?
Any wise interpretations?
I'm all ears!