Another Way A Woman Can Be Dead While She Lives

"Your...daughters will prophesy..."





I wrote a short piece recently, about how a woman who delights in luxury for the sake of luxury is dead while she lives. Have you ever seen a woman who lives in the lap of luxury, yet does not open her heart or hands to the needy, does not have healthy relationships, does not have an agenda beyond negativity and acquisition. A life so small and narrow in scope, its impact cannot be felt. Hmmmm..."The Real Housewives of _________ " comes to mind.

There's another way to be dead while you live. That way is simply...to be silent.

The dead praise not the LORD, neither any that go down into silence. (Ps. 115:17)

I remember a time, about three years ago, when I began to write with clarity and courage on the doctrines of grace, the temptation became strong to be intimidated into silence. Note: I was not writing as a renegade. I was following the lead of my Preacher (who happens to be my husband, if you are new to my blog). I was celebrating in, and yes, sometimes even developing on his teaching and preaching. He was proud of me for doing so. I was doing so in the full context of flowing with the direction of my local church, and supporting its leadership - a character trait which has defined me since the days of my youth. What's more, I often solicited Tim's permission before sending an email, or hitting "publish" to my blog.

Like a lioness, I began to roar and proclaim and defend and protect what was the embryonic beginning of what has become a real move of God in our church....and in the world. (More on that in a few days...I have proof - even visual proof - of this world-wide tsunami of New Covenant preaching that has developed in just the last year to two years.)

It was this very Psalm 115:17, along with several prophetic words to my spirit, that kept me from becoming a woman who was dead while she lived. It truly would have been a fatal mistake for me.

I was designed for declaration, and positioned for proclamation. If I am alive, I will be heard praising Him.

Here is what I want you to hear, beautiful girlfriend: proclamation is not gender exclusive.

Do not allow anyone to intimidate you into silence, or label you as insubordinate or manipulative or somehow "wrong" simply because you lift up your voice to declare the wonders of the Finished Work of Christ. To "lift up" your voice is indeed even to shout!

O bless our God, ye people, and make the voice of his praise to be heard. (Ps. 66:8)

Incidentally, I would not be part of a church where shouting "just isn't done". You don't hear shouting in my church every single Sunday, but you do hear it often enough. Aaaaand my tangent alert is going off....telling me this is another blog post for another day. Suffice it to say, our voices matter. We don't praise Him in prim and proper silence, sisters! That is not our heritage as women.


It is not our history. It should not be our legacy.

Around the glorious throne, the words "Holy...holy...holy" are not telepathically communicated. No, the words are cried out, night and day. Um...as in, you can hear them. And it is loud.

If ever there was a reason to speak up, this precious gospel, this thoroughly New Covenant good news we have been entrusted with is the reason. Proclaiming the grace of God is not the sole domain of the men, it is our job as well. Church government is, in my opinion, a man-thing, though vibrant churches all throughout Africa and the Far East could be proving my opinions to be a bit Fundamentalist-Western. History will tell the tale, and I am content to have it so.

To hold a governing position is one thing. But to lift up your woman-voice with courage and strength? To support and verify New Covenant truth with your voices, pens, keyboards, emails, blogs, and tweets? To roar and proclaim that the law made nothing perfect, but the bringing of a Better Hope did?


Girls, if you are alive, you must proclaim. The dead can no longer do it. And those who don't do it might as well be dead.



Daughter, I say to you, prophesy!

Perhaps I Shall Never Grow Old?




She who dies, having truly cared for the most people (wisely and well, not resorting to cheap sentimentality or crossing legitimate boundaries)....wins. Can I provoke you to love and good deeds with me?




On your mark....get set....GO!




Beat ya to the finish line, sister!

Another Dream Come True




Long before our grandson was a twinkle in any one's eye, The Preacher and I have dreamed of watching one of the Christmas stop-action animated movies with a grandchild snuggled between us. (The first dream was taking a grandchild to Cracker Barrel, but the stop-action animated Christmas movie was a very, very close second.)




As fate would have it, tonight was the night. The rest of the family had worship practice, and after a long day (that included a basketball tournament game) we were home, exhausted, just the two of us, with Little Britches.




We tried putting him to bed at his usual bedtime, which is about 7pm. He flat-out would have none of it. So Pop-pop got him back up, and we sat in the living room and turned on the TV.




There it was. Santa Claus Is Comin' To Town!




We looked at each other, and I said, "I'm so glad he doesn't want to go to bed!"




And so it was. We passed him back and forth between us, took turns rocking him and bouncing him, through the whole show. He watched a remarkable amount of it...truly watched....usually while sitting on Pop-pop's lap. We were in sequel-parenting-heaven.




Then, towards the very end of the movie, Timothy turned to face his Poppy, snuggled in to be rocked to sleep....and murmured, "Pop Pop Pop"....




...and then blew Poppy a sleepy kiss.




We. Were. Solid. Gone.




Talk about your Christmas Magic Moment.

Quotable Quote


"Better trust all, and be deceived,
And weep that trust, and that deceiving;
Than doubt one heart, that, if believed,
Had blessed one's life with true believing."

~Fanny Kemble

The Preacher and I have had friends whom we chose to love and trust, in spite of our "better judgement". In spite of their track record of broken relationships. In spite of the sense that our trust would be violated, that we would not be loved in return - not for the long haul.

We don't regret it.

Because we have many more friends who have blessed our lives, by proving that our trust is valid, that continuity of years...decades...of relationship is possible...and beautiful.

We still will trust all. We still will believe. We've been blessed far more than we've been deceived.

Big, BIG Announcement!

The Preacher and I are going to be grandparents again!

(drumroll please.....)



Our Sarah and her Jonathan are expecting their very first!

There are no words...truly, there are no words to adequately convey our complete delight and sense of blessedness and wealth and undeniable prosperity. Another wee one on its way!

Due Date?

Boy?

Girl?

We don't know any of this yet. Stay tuned. I ask ahead of time - please forgive and indulge the more-than-occasional post with grandmotherly musings and ramblings and ultrasound pictures and such. I'm ga-ga again. Useless. Hopelessly in love with this child, for whom I have waited (it seems to me) almost all my life.

Unless you are a grandmother, or long to be, you can't begin to know the depth of the truth of what I am about to say:

"For this child, I have prayed."

My Magnificent Obsession



I do not think about teaching this Gospel...I just teach it. Everyone else can decide if they agree or disagree, like or dislike me. While they are deciding...while they shake their head or wag their tongue...



...I teach it again.



Don't think for a moment that forces have not arrayed themselves in opposition against me, in years past, to shut me up. They almost succeeded. If I'd only kept quiet...just kept it to myself. Kept a lower profile. If only I were not so convinced. If only I were not so persuaded, that I could not help but persuade.


But I know Him. I know in Whom I have believed.


Oh, the glory of the New Covenant. Oh, the finished work of Christ!

Can You Stand It?

( I know, right? This pic should be a stock photo that you have to pay to use...but this is my grandson and his model-handsome father. My daughter took this pic with a Nikon - don't have the numbers on the stop-down or the shutter speed or ISO...)


For those of you who are twenty-something, and having a baby isn't even on your radar...get busy. You want to get to my season of life as soon as possible. Children are wonderful...yet grandchildren are heart-enlargingly and alarmingly precious. You love your children with your whole heart.

You love your grandchildren with your whole, enlarged heart.

Trust me - by the time you've done the years of livin' I've done, raising four of your own, personally seeing them through absolutely each and every stage of their young lives, joyful and painful - your heart will be stretched even larger than your womb. Your womb returns to normal (or a semblance of it) but your heart? It never goes back. It never recovers. It was meant to be enlarged.

Just in time for the next generation to tumble into your heart-space and fill it with joy unspeakable and full of glory.

To all who are, and ever will be grandmothers - I congratulate you with the largest bouquet of whatever flower is your very favorite. Most women either are, or will be mothers someday. Therefore, most women are, or will be grandmothers one day. I hope you begin to look forward to grandchildren the day your first child is born. I did. I can't explain it, but I did. I have lived to hold and love grand-ones, by holding and loving their parents, and teaching them as well as I knew how. Somehow, I knew every thing I'd sacrificed would be worth it if my grandchildren could be well loved.

And when your enlarged heart holds that very first grandchild for the very first time, and that big, womanly, motherly heart of yours begins to wring itself out, raining down torrents of love through your happy tears -

Remember me. Remember I told you that it would be all this, and more.

Come here, always, and leave inspired to live your legacy one day at a time, whether you are twenty-five, or fifty-two. The day of your crowning glory will come...those grandbabies will come. The days are long, but the years are startlingly short.