The Rooted & Grounded: Faith For Creatives

14 For this reason I kneel before the Father 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named. 16 I pray that he may grant you, according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with power in your inner being through his Spirit, 17 and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. I pray that you, being rooted and firmly established in love, 18 may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the length and width, height and depth of God’s love, 19 and to know Christ’s love that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. 20 Now to him who is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think according to the power that works in us— 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen. ~EPHESIANS 3:14-21 CSB

Paul’s prayer for the Body of Christ to be rooted and grounded in the love our Savior has for us is so powerful. Many times we make light of, not only the Grace of God but His love. We tend to take the worldview of what love is, and what love truly means, and thusly, miss the glory and power that comes from love Himself.

Love is the very Person of God (I JOHN 4:7-8), not a fleeting feeling that comes and goes, for we know that Christ has assured us that He will never leave nor forsake us (HEBREWS 13:5) but will be with us for all eternity.

But even when we have accepted Christ into our hearts, there is still the process of His seeds of love not only taking root in us but growing to the point that we are filled with the very fullness of God.

Love, knowing that we are fully, completely, unapologetically, unrepentantly, unconditionally loved by Christ Jesus, is the root and cornerstone of our growth, power, and passion in Him.

It is through the knowledge of the depth of this love that we are able to live with confidence and courage, no matter our mistakes, stumbles, or fails. It is through this knowledge that we are able to do as our Lord commanded and love others.

When we know we are loved perfectly by Him, we rest in our identity of being His righteousness by faith, free from and forgiven of sin, past, present, and future. It is here that we grow into a posture where we are no longer sin-conscious, thusly we are able to shed the fear of punishment that pushes us into condemnation. (Romans 8:1, I JOHN 4:15-18)

Where there is no condemnation, there is freedom, freedom to grow, freedom to walk in liberty and freedom to liberate others with the Good News! (II Timothy 1:7)

Oh, what glory and depth of faith that comes from this place! It is here that we can pray with confidence expecting the “above and beyond what we could ask or imagine” from Him that Paul speaks of in Ephesians 3:20-21.

But to get to the truth of verses 20 and 21 we have got to be rooted in this incredible love that is spoken of in verses 14-19. It takes the knowledge of, and resting in, as well as trusting of His unwavering love for us to be able to believe that not only is His power working in us, that He is able to do exceeding and abundant great things, but that He will do these things for you because HE LOVES YOU!

Be rooted in His love. Trust that He has already given you His greatest gift which was Himself offered upon the cross, knowing that because He has given you His best, He most certainly will not withhold the rest (Romans 8:28-37).

That is love! Take rest and take root!

~Poiema, Poetry in Motion

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The Name She Used: Monday’s Muse Results for May 1st 2017 #AmWriting #Monday’sMuse #WritingPrompt

They’d been walking for three hours. The car had run out of gas that far back. She’d stayed with him, but she still hadn’t told him her name. 

Interestingly enough, he didn’t feel like he needed to know her name, not at that moment. She’d given him peace the very moment she got in the car with him, her presence washing over his atmosphere with a something akin to light.

He laughed on the inside. He knew his thoughts were foolish especially since he was thinking them about a complete stranger one who avoided the mention of her name even though she kept speaking one to him over and over again, Jesus.

At first hearing that name jolted him with the same force as the headlights that had come head-on in his direction, cutting through the fog like a hateful knife. He’d managed to swerve away from impact, his tires eating through the grass that lay just off the road.

Then he saw her, really, it was her coat that coat his attention, peaking out like a beacon just a few yards ahead of him. He wasn’t one to usually pick up a stranger. He left that job to Uber, but something about her seemed . . . safe, comforting after his heart tried to launch itself through the top of his head.

At first, she was silent. She’d said her thank you’s and then smiled warmly. As soon as they’d made it a little less than a mile up the road she started talking. She’d questioned him really, asked where he was from, where he was going, why he was alone.

None of it was her business. The questions actually caused familiar flames to lick up the walls of his belly. He didn’t want to think about where he was from. He had no intention of ever going back there. There was nothing left for him after Danielle filed for divorce. The irony was she was the guilty one. And yes he was livid, more so, he was bleeding inside, cut off at the knees by her confession but he still wanted to try and work things out.

Twenty years was nothing to just toss away, not without trying. They married straight out of highschool. Their roots were too deep to just yank up. Something had to be salvageable. Still, she would accept his forgiveness. That hurt him even worse. There he was giving her his heart again even after she’d torn it out and she refused to take it for guilt. It didn’t make sense to him.

Where was he going, the passenger had asked. He wanted to ask her the same question but couldn’t for the simple fact that he was stunned by his own lack of an answer. He had no idea where he was going. He was just driving, driving away from the hurt and the darkness.

Why he was alone seemed obvious, at least to him. He jokingly told her that he only had one seat open and clearly it was meant for her. That was when she started talking about Jesus, she even said he had made a way for her to get a ride, that they were meant to meet.

He politely smiled at each mention of the name Jesus and her gentle telling of his love and grace. He’d always found it too hard for him to wrap his mind around, that the God of all Creation would be so loving and forgiving that even when man had wronged him, created a debt that needed to be paid but could not pay himself, that this same God would become man to pay that very debt because he loved his creation so and he just wanted the pleasure of being loved back.

If all that were true, then he was guilty of that debt. He’d surely messed up enough in his life, he should have died for his own sins. How could he look God in the face and just accept such a sacrifice on his behalf when he didn’t deserve it? The thought made his chest ache, it always did.

After walking with the stranger for three hours he finally stopped and asked her, dropping all of his politeness, spurred on by the sudden parallel that he was seeing in his own unwillingness to accept Jesus and Danielle’s unwillingness to accept him.

“It’s not fair,” he tried to shout but his voice came out with a cracking whisper similar to that of a boy approaching manhood.

“No, but that is why it is love. That is why it is grace.”

She spoke to him some more about grace, the light began to fade and with it went his former denials. He loved Danielle, maybe not like Christ loved him but he wanted to try.

“Will you let him teach you?” the young woman asked, her expression hopeful.

Trembling from the cold or the anticipation of knowing for himself, standing there, in the darkening woods, with fog growing heavier, tears streaming his face, and his broken heart bleeding, he finally said yes.

In an instant, he felt more pain, sharper and deeper than he ever had before. Panic gripped him until he struggled to breath. He fell to his knees. Her arms lead him downward until he was laying on his back, her breath whispering words of peace to him.

“It will be alright,” she said. “You are going to be just fine. Trust Him.”

“Jesus, help me,” he heard the words slipping from his lips even as the noise of the sirens made his ears burn.

-“We’ve got a pulse! He’s back with us and he’s speaking! Sir? Sir? My name is Jennifer and this is officer Healy. You’ve been in a head-on collision. But you are going to be just fine sir, just fine.”

THE BEGINNING

*Wow, so this went in a direction I had not anticipated but that is the fun of creative writing prompts. If you would like to see the original prompt with links to the image and rules to participate see, Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt May 1st, 2017. 

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Handful of Hope: Microfiction #Blogbattle Week 58

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Handful of Hope: Microfiction

She wanted to see if they could float so with faith she tossed them across the sackcloth that would be the sky and watched as her handful of hope like diamonds suspended themselves and twinkled as stars.

She wasn’t the King Creator, nor His Glorious Son, but she was born of His Spirit, and thusly imbued with the authority and call to create. She was learning how to do so with a voice and song uniquely her own, a song she longed to sing to please only His ears.

So she tossed up another handful of hope and watched it twinkle and grow in light until the inky darkness bled away yielding to the brilliance of life.

The cold uncertainty that had once made her limbs stiff with immobility began to retreat as her being grew warm with the fire of expectation and joy.

Handful after handful of hope and dreams and faith jettisoned from her vibrant fingertips and ate away at the dreadful nothing that sought to blanket her with fear.

Laughter erupted from her being like thunder and rain of her tears spilled forth from her eyes. No longer was she throwing her hope against the darkness but she was dancing in the key of joy and the tempo of redemption and with each movement of her soul did light dispel the darkness.

THE BEGINNING…

*Week 58 of #Blogbattle is here! This week’s Keyword: FLOAT. My Genre: INSPIRATIONAL.  Word Count: 225 Words. To read more stories by other battlers or to participate yourself, you can do so by following this LINK to Rachael Ritchey’s amazing blog!  

*NOTE ABOUT THE ABOVE STORY

Sometimes, many times, what is written is as a prayer in the face of struggle. Using hope and working one’s faith is a choice. It takes great courage to decide that despite it all, you will choose to dance even in the darkness, that you will be the spark and ember that brings light and a wildfire where there is not warmth.

I praise Yeshua Jesus for His love and His gentle urging to learn to dance when there is no music, to be the music. Yes, it takes courage even in our greatest weakness, but in our weakness He is made strong!

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.  That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.~ 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!