When you don't know which way to go or what to do, just stand still & wait on God to lead you. I have found that often in my past, all I could do is stand still & wait for that cloud to move. I am learning now, that all I ever needed to do was stand still & wait for that cloud to move...His time is perfect, and in obedience to his perfect time, his mercy & blessings flow. But when we try to move before that cloud we step out of his perfect time and perfect will. That hike leads to nowhere.

Exodus 40
36And when the cloud was taken up from over the tabernacle, the children of Israel went onward in all their journeys:

37 But if the cloud were not taken up, then they journeyed not till the day that it was taken up.

Lord, let my heart be a tabernacle to you, and may it move with you on your perfect time, no time before or after, and may it lead me in your perfect will. In Jesus name.

Tightly swaddled in your wrath you wonder how you'll move on from here.
Submerged in your afflictions brought on by flesh and evil malignant spirits...
you ponder... who loves your soul more?

You doubt that you will ever turn back and somehow ought press on.
But the laceration in your heart says, "no, no more."
Mortals who've inflicted the wounds turn your window panes cold.
The frost drips morsels down into your gut who escorts them fiercely to your soul.

Your carnal and savage will loathes the sight of them.
But your metaphysical God pricks your cheeky conscience back into submission.
You desire to spew your agony back upon those who placed it there, tenfold.
And then you recall the plank in your own eye...

... and how many tears you... you...you, must've brought your God.

...and how many times he embraced you even when your heart was ugly.
...and how many times he loved you when your mouth was depraved.
...and how many times he reached for you even when you had no loyalty for him.

...and how his unconditional love for you drew your heart into remorse, and that personal responsibility and anguish extracted the compassion back out from the depths of your soul.

...and your heart was once again free to adulate your God in complete ecstasy.
And so you were reminded that if you are made in his image you shall also love as he loves.

And you learned that this is how you shall move on.

Isaiah 6:8 "Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me."

I pray this word to my own life... what ever your will Lord, humbly, obediently, here I am.

Oh Peanut Butter Jelly Hands... I see you've come calling today.
There you are on the bottom of my skirt and right on my backside too.

I saw you across the arm of my favorite chair.
I see where you've explored my cabinets and painted my clean pots and pans.

Oh, and there you are again across the bottom of the 'fridge.
And don't you look lovely on my tapestries over there?

And wait, the cat's mouth is moving real funny... as if she has some peanut butter stuck in it.
Yep... you must've managed to greet her tail, you silly little peanut butter jelly hands.

There is some lovely artwork on the kitchen floor too.
I should start charging people for the show!

Why, who wouldn't pay a trillon, or two, to see such a beautiful work of art?
Your fat little fingers are cute as can be.

Your scent is sweet as a baby's first bath with just a dash of peanut butter jelly perfume.
I could bottle it up and give it away to the mommy's who miss these days.

How lucky am I to be here now?
You sweet little peanut butter jelly hands...

That's Me

My hands are my voice but I'm not deaf.
I'm shy and withdrawn unless I know you well.
Words do not flow easily through my mouth.
I don't do well in a crowd.

My hair is my conviction and glory.
My hips have carried my heart 5 times and harbored 6.
I'm stubborn and pushy.
But I'm compassionate and understanding.

Sometimes I'm spiteful but I don't tell lies.
I'm not a Christian, but a sinner who strives to be like Christ.
I make a lot of mistakes but I learn from them as well.
I'm weak and unworthy; I'm strong and fearless.

I'm an open book if you know which page to find me.
I'm a mystery novel if you don't have time to look.
I'm bold and I'm scared.
I'm spontaneous but logical.

I'm affectionate and excited inside.
But I'm cursed with being reserved.
I'd like to show what's inside.
But I forgot how. I'm not sure if I ever even knew.

I believe a tamed but ambitious heart is simply wisdom.
I believe an untamed heart still has a lot to learn.
I cannot understand where anyone finds pride in that.
My pride is in my wisdom and grace.

I believe to respect your spouse is not demeaning.
I believe it's a reflection of your own self worth instead.
I believe in myself although I don't always meet my expectations.
I also believe in mind over matter when there is a will.

I view the world through the eye of my camera lense.
God is the one with the talent. I just try to capture it.
Although I could never begin to do his work justice.
My eyes see the world inside its frame even when my camera is out of reach.

I don't need glory or fame before I die.
I only need to know that I somehow managed to stumble...
to stumble on God's will, wherever that may be, before I die.
Crawling, walking, climbing, running... I don't really care how I get there.

I'm a constant work in progress.
I think it's funny that people call Christians a hypocrite when they see them doing wrong.
But they call them out for being "holier than thou" when they see them doing right.
I choose not to be identified by my religion, but by my God instead.

I'm self-conscious about myself, inside and out.
I trust easy because everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt.
I don't cry in sad movies.
But I cry when I watch the news.

It took me months just to write this.
Because I am still learning who me is.
I will never stop learning that because I will always grow.
Yep. That's me.

And so begins a new inspiration from the Lord...

My chocolate coffee guests will be dining with Grandma's fine China today.... this is what we women do!

I have NEVER allowed anyone to use this China. I have decided that I'm going to start using it for a special purpose for God. This is the inheritance Grandma gave me, more than these pieces of fine porcelain so carefully molded the way the Lord carefully molds us. These pieces of porcelain began as a lump of clay. The impurities were removed from the clay until nothing but pure clay was left. It was carefully molded and sent through a firing kiln to several different extreme temperatures until it was finally formed solid. And this is how God molds us. And when life brings us troubles, we can just remember that we might be in the firing kiln when we're walking with God. He turns out beautiful pieces in the end though. All things work towards the good to those who love him.

Grandma gave me this China as an heirloom, an inheritance. But it is an inheritance from God that she really gave me. It's about time I start putting this porcelain to use in his name. That is why he molds it so carefully anyhow. No value be can put on this inheritance. Praise God for the Holy Ghost, and the blood of Jesus!

And praise him for good friends and fellowship!

Here are some Twin FACTS to know before you pop those popular questions to twins or parents of twins (or other multiples:)

Popular twin question #1:
"So, which side of the family do twins run in?"

Twin FACT: Twins are NOT a hereditary occurrence from the father of the twins. It doesn't matter if the twins father has a twin himself & all his siblings have twins too. It will NOT increase his chances of having his own set of twins. A man CANNOT put "twin genes" into his wife's gene pool (or her ovaries) & cause her to have twins. (However, if a twin gene runs in the women in his family and he has a daughter, she may inherit it.)

Therefore, if you see a set of FRATERNAL twins, one of two things happened: It was a random blessing from God, or the "twin gene" that causes women to drop more than one egg during ovulation runs in HER family. The male contributor nor his genes have NOTHING to do with the fact that twins were developed. It NEVER runs in HIS side. So the question should just be outlawed. It's moot. The question SHOULD be (to the mother of twins), "So, do twins run in your family?" Know that Dad and his genes had NOTHING to do with the "twin" part of the conception. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. NOTHING.

Popular twin question #2:
"So are they identical?"

First of all, if you see a boy & girl set of twins, BITE your tongue! Think about this question. "Are they identical?" Identical twins have exactly the same DNA. The only thing that makes them genetically different are their fingerprints as far as DNA is concerned. So, if one is a BOY, and one is a GIRL.... do you think that it's possible for them to be identical? NO. It is not possible for boy/girl twins to be identical. Rarely, the girl may have what is known as Turner's Syndrome & then they do have the same DNA. But you will know by physical traits that she has Turner's. But Turner's is rare. Google it for more info.

Popular twin question #3:
(When the question is directed towards identical twins) "Which side of the family do twins run in?"

First, remember the fact from popular question 1. Secondly, identical twins are NOT hereditary. It doesn't matter if everyone in both sides of the family has twins. If identical twins are conceived, it was a random act of God and had nothing to do with the gene pool. Nothing.

Identical twins come from 1 egg that split & caused two babies to form from 1 egg and 1 sperm. Nothing in our gene pools make that happen. God does.

Fraternal twins however, come from 2 different eggs being fertilized by 2 different sperm. And women dropping multiple eggs during ovulation can be a hereditary thing (but not always.) But the egg splitting is NOT. I repeat, identical twins are NOT hereditary.

Twin FYI's:

Don't tell their mother they're "Double Trouble." It's just insulting. Would you want anyone calling your child trouble? Furthermore, she doesn't see them that way at all. It's double the love!

Don't ask a parent of twins which one is their favorite (I've had this happen!) I replied with (to a parent who doesn't have twins), "Well, which one of your daughters is your favorite?" Moms don't have favorites with their twins just because they're twins.

Twins (and other multiples) are truly blessings!!

Matthew 9:10-13

10And it came to pass, as Jesus sat at meat in the house, behold, many publicans and sinners came and sat down with him and his disciples.

11And when the Pharisees saw it, they said unto his disciples, Why eateth your Master with publicans and sinners?

12But when Jesus heard that, he said unto them, They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.

13But go ye and learn what that meaneth, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice: for I am not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.


Well, AMEN to that. Jesus didn't believe in spiritual segregration, and neither do I. People who don't know God like those who do, shouldn't be segregated from Christians because they're "sinners." That doesn't mean Christians need to run out to the clubs & get their grooves on so that we're not segregating ourselves from the sinners. It means we need to open our hearts, our homes, our minds, and learn to love people the way God loves us, right where they are. We need to get off our high horses & get out there & reach out to people. We must segregate ourselves from the world. But not the people in this world. How do they find healing if no one is willing to offer it? Christians are the vessels the Physician uses to heal. We have to be willing to be those vessels... instruments for Him.

And well, that means we're going to run into people (in the real world and cyberworld) who sin (as if we don't.) They're going to cuss. They're going to drink. They're going to have pre-marrital sex and etc, etc. They're going to be everything Christians are expected not to be. When we come across these scenerios we have some choices to make. We can snub our noses in the air & say, "Hmpf! I'm too holy to hear that language. Be gone from me you sinner!" (Sarcasm, yes, but you get the point. If you don't, then you don't need to get it.) Or, we can choose to see them and love them as they are, just the way God does.

Hey, pick your battles. I'd spend a whole day listening to some one cuss me out if it meant I had the opportunity to show them God's love.. because THAT love is what draws them to repentence. That love is what saves them from this world & leads them to their salvation. (Realize here, that we do need to protect our minds & hearts from sin. And I am only using scenerios. Use your wisdom in my words!)

But if we're busy being too holy for them to be in our presence... they'll never see that love. Since when did anyone become holier than God anyway? He wasn't too good to sit with sinners. Why should Christians be?

We aren't here for each other (Christians)... we're here for the people out there who need healing from the GREATEST Physician. We are his instruments. We need to allow him to use us.

As I was sitting in the waiting room of my doctor's office yesterday, I observed. The room is always full of elderly folk everytime I go in. I don't know what it is about my Dr. that his patients consistent of elderly folk... and then, me of course. But they do. I suppose I fit in though, with all my chronic aches & pains.

As I observed (for a good 30 minutes or so) I actually enjoyed myself. There is nothing like making the time pass by watching old people wait in a waiting room. I know that sounds sarcastic, but let me explain...

I first noticed Florence. I don't know that Florence is her real name, but she looks like a Florence, so that's what we'll call her. When I came in, she had one of the receptionists sitting next to her in the waiting room. They were chattering, whispering in each other's ears, and giggling like a couple of school girls.

Everything about Florence was perfectly & maticulously placed. She wore a long skirt & matching shirt. She had on light make-up that gave her wrinkled cheeks just the right rosy-red effect. Her hair was up in a french twist, and the top of her head was covered in blonde curls to follow the twist. It was the most perfect twist and curls I'd ever seen. Not a hair on her head moved. I figured she must've been wearing hair pieces, because I don't even think 20 year olds have hair that perfectly beautiful (Florence will be 70 in March by the way, as I overheard her say.) But she wore the hair well.

She wore jewerly... a lot of jewelry. She wore big earnings, big necklaces, several bracelets, and really big rings on her fingers. You could hear the "clink-clink" as the metals brushed against each other each time she moved.

She had the attitude and the walk to match her attire. If I had to imagine what a southern belle in the South looks like, I'd say they look like her.

She was cute though, and friendly. She liked to chat with the receptionists and cut up with them. She would also start chatting with anyone who sat next to her.

I noticed she wasn't wearing socks. She wore stockings instead. And as I began to look around at all the other feet in the room, I noticed that I was the only woman wearing socks. There must've been about 10 elderly woman in the room with me. Not one of them had on a pair of socks. They all wore stockings, even the ones wearing pants. One woman was wearing a plain jean skirt like me, and even she wore stockings. At first I thought," don't these women's feet get cold? I must be the only sane one in the room."And then I realized, I'm the only one in socks. So I became self-conscious. I crossed my ankles and began to tuck my feet up under my chair.

I started looking around at the others in the room and observing them. There were about 3 who were couples. I thought the older couples were cute. I think I heard one ask his wife if she remembered his Geritol.

I saw one man walk in pushing his wife in a wheel chair, with her oxygen tank in tow. He could barely walk himself. She had short, red curly hair...obviously a wig. They sat next to Florence. I heard them making small talk. Florence asked them what their favorite places were to eat. He began going down the list, and then said that he just picks it up & takes it home now... since the wheelchair. His wife wasn't wearing socks either.

Florence mentioned her husband a lot. I think he had passed away. She spoke about him in this manner..."when my husband was.... my husband used to..." etc.

One thing I noticed about the couples was that they seemed to move as one unit. They each knew the other's persons next move or next word, and they were in sync. I noticed that one couple didn't even have to make complete sentences with each other. Husband would start to say something, and before I could even tell what he was saying, wife would nodd her head, smile, and say okay... and vice versa. It was like they had their own secret language, like listening to the oriental workers at the nail salon, and wondering if they're talking about you.

I started to imagine what these women looked like when they were my age. I imagined black & white photos neatly placed in their albums back home, and then I thought to myself, "I hope my computer never crashes, or no one will have an album to go through when I'm old."

I thought about the socks none of them were wearing. There must be a reason. I thought, "A different time and age." And then I wondered, what was that time and age? A time when socks were only for men... a time when just going to the dr's office meant looking your Sunday best and looking like a lady. It was a time when couples stayed together for so long, they literally became one unit. What was divorce anyway? A time where photo albums weren't a mouse & a click away, but a set of books on a shelf.

Yes, times have sure changed. I keep telling myself I'll back up all those photos on the computer and then I never seem to have time. These women must gasp to themselves when they see the young ladies today walking through Wal Mart in their pajamas. My stringy hair must look awful just hanging down. Now I know why Grandma always used to tell me, "get your hair out of your face." I get the impression that not pulling your hair back somehow wasn't lady-like at one time. None of these women let their hang like mine was. Each of them had fixed it neatly. And I get the impression that socks were something men used to wear, like a lot of other apparel we all wear today.

I know times change... but for the life of me, sometimes I just can't figure out why.

"When I spread open my wings, just step inside the shadow it casts, relax, and let your feet be lifted off the ground."

They stood along the shoreline and anxiously waited as they watched his magnificant wings spread a part. They wondered if the shadow would be big enough for everyone to fit inside. It didn't look big enough. But everyone fit comfortably inside as they slowly stepped "aboard" the shadow.

As they stepped into the shadow they became like feathers and slowly drifted up off the ground.

"Feel free to move about. You will be safe while we are on our journey, as long as you don't move outside the shadow."

With that, he began to move the glorious wings...slow... then faster and faster, like a propeller on a plane. He began to soar over the crashing ocean waves. The journey was going to be a long one. But no one cared to look back at the devastation they were leaving behind. The only images left of the devastation on the shoreline were the memories stored in their minds.

Memories.... a scene of hunger, poverty, fire, hate, murder, scavengers.... most of them already scattered abroad by the time the winged man appeared. He was only taking the children... the innocent children left to their own inside the devastation... left with no one to care for them, because no one cared...except the winged man.

"You will stay here now for awhile," he said as he landed in a valley, surrounded by ocean, mountains, waterfalls....tranquillity, utopia. He turned and flew off into the endless sea, more children were waiting back at Devastation Shore.

He had sent word back to the shoreline that he'd be back for more when ever they were ready. New children heard the message and they waited on the shore for the winged man to come and save them from Devastation Shore.

Back at the utopia, the children felt safe. Some of them missed their parents and loved ones who couldn't come. They'd send letters back to the shore, with no return address... in hopes that their loved ones could find their way to the winged man too. They couldn't leave a return address. There were bounties on them. An evil one wanted to find them and bring them back to the shore to kill them. But he didn't know where the utopia was or how to get there. He was not allowed there, and it made it him angry. No one was allowed to the utopia but by the winged man. And no one knew the way except the winged man. It was in a secret place surrounded by the sea, deep down in a valley, hidden from the vulgar world."

Sometimes God talks to us through our dreams. If you've ever had a dream from God, you know the difference. God gave me this dream recently. Of all the dreams I've ever dreamt from him, this one has had the most profound impact on my heart. And it was so surreal. Maybe because I know the truth behind this dream, it impacts me so greatly. It's not a fictitcious fantasy dream. It's real. God speaks in metaphors.

I begin to tear up now at the thought of how real this dream is. It is real, and it is powerful... the message, that is. It tears me up because there are so many people out there who don't know how real this God and his salvation is. We are all born on Devastation Shore. But we don't all make it to the utopia. Many of us spend our lives aimlessly wondering Devastation Shore. Many of us never even step into the shadow of his wings. Many of us don't think this is "for" us or that we "don't need" it. I can't count how many times I've heard some one say, "church just isn't for me." People don't even know what they're really saying when they say that.

Some of us do step into the shadow of his wings. There are no walls in the shadow of that flight though. That means we can choose to abort the flight at any given time. All we have to do is step outside the shadow. Some of us look at the shadow & think it doesn't look big enough. We doubt God. Life starts to get a little rough and we want to retreat back to the shoreline. Maybe we look down into the scary sea and become afraid of falling. We have so little faith, and we run. When we step outside the shadow, we only find ourselves falling into a crashing and deadly sea of endless ocean. We have so little faith in God when it matters most. But his wings are always sufficient. Always.

Utopia isn't heaven. It is only the place in your heart where God resides, until we make it to heaven. The journey to utopia is called salvation. The Bible says you must become like a little child, and have the faith of a child to enter heaven... do we, really? How POWERFUL is that thought when you really think about it? Only children are allowed to the utopia...

He makes frequent trips back to Devastation Shore to pick up anymore children who are ready to go. The Bible says in Acts 2:38, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. " Then in John 3:5 it says, "Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." These verses make it very clear on how to get ready to step inside the shadow for the trip to the utopia. And why is the utopia surrounded by water? Water is life. Water is essential to your salvation. It's called baptism. We MUST be born of the water. We are given new live when we're baptised in Jesus name. The Holy Spirit, as John said is a gift for everyone of us, will follow our water birth, and we will be spiritually born.

I am so happy to have left Devastation Shore. Satan puts bounties on us... he wants to bring us back to that place to kill our spirits and bring us down. But God is bigger. God is stronger. And when we're in the shadow of his wings, we are safe. We are covered in the power of the blood of Jesus and nothing can touch us. But if we step outside that shadow... or if we never even step in... well, it's our choice.

(See also Psalms 91, which I later found corrilated with my dream)