Sometimes God waits entirely too long to fulfill His promises.
Sometimes it seems He just forgets and sits our prayer requests on the back burner with the heat off while other people’s requests are bubbling over with answers and blessings.
And sometimes you are 99 with crusty, dusty eggs and only memories of how your husband used to fondle you. Then here comes this BIG God with His BIG promises declaring, once again, that you’re going to have a baby. Sarah laughed in her heart and said “Shall I have pleasure seeing as I’m old, and my dear husband over there is older than me?” Yes, Mama Sarah. I understand why you laughed.
Sarah used her physical limitations to indict God. She was basically saying “Look, God. You waited too long. I stopped believing when my girly parts stopped working. I still love you, and I’ll still serve you, but there’s no point in believing Your promise any more.” Does your faith and willingness to believe have an expiration date or contingency clause like Sarah’s?
I’ve been praying that God would send one of my co-workers her mate. I won’t hash out any details about her, but I will say this. It’s clear that long ago she stopped believing for an answer to that prayer. If the greatest prophet walking on earth today told her that God was going to send her mate, she’d scoff and say “Shall I have the pleasure?” She has decided to no longer believe the promise for whatever reason, and her lack of faith hinders her expectation of something good.
I didn’t think I’d have pleasure because of my former nature. You may think you’re too old, too big, too skinny, too– whatever crazy things us women come up with to judge ourselves. God is moved by faith, not emotion or rational arguments. When God makes a promise, He’s able and willing to perform it. Don’t disqualify yourself with unbelief! Don’t frustrate your own destiny with doubtfulness and negativity! God’s Word is true!
Should you have the pleasure of a Godly mate?
Should you have the pleasure of bearing healthy, beautiful children?
Should you have the pleasure of divine health and fulfillment?
Should you have the pleasure of a bottomless bank account?
Should you have the pleasure of eating as much chocolate as you want never gaining a pound?
Yes, and amen.
May we submit our shortcomings and limitations to the Lordship of Christ and allow His grace to superabound in our lives. May we hold dear to the promises He’s made always trusting in His timing. I pray this post stirred up your faith to believe that you shall have pleasure.
Read and meditate on the following Scriptures to remind yourself of God’s goodness. You WILL have pleasure!
Isaiah 34: 16
Numbers 23: 19
With love, sincerity, and hope for your future,
Image courtesy of bee.creativesolutions at FreeDigitalPhotos.netRead More
I love random SMS conversations. But today, this one took me by surprise…
Flex: Could you be with someone that you didn’t enjoy kissing?
Me: Absolutely not!Flex: Just making sure I wasn’t crazy.Me: But I would try a few times to see if it gets better.Flex: Yeah, I would. But if I CONSISTENTLY don’t like it…nah lol.Me: Totally agree…Flex: So you wanna kiss me or nah?Me: X______X (I didn’t actually text this, but my eyes did cross.)Flex: I kid I kid lol
That short (hilarious) exchange did two things for me. First, it sent me into a fit of laughter thinking about my friend being poorly kissed by a well-meaning, passionate, but unskilled woman. Can’t you see her closing her eyes, leaning in, tilting her head, and seductively pouting only to smoosh his nose in and chomp down on his lips? Second, it made me think about a few kisses I’ve had over the years. As we all know, 2012 has been relatively dry in the kissing department, so I had to dig deep to really reflect on the matter. (The things I do for you people… psssh…)
Some of ye olde kisses were awkwardly pleasant. Others were forceful and unenjoyable. Some I have to dig deep to even remember though at the time I was having a swoon-fest. But one kiss really stands out in my mind for all the right reasons.
Oh, how I wish I could describe the mechanics of this kiss, but Lord knows you super churchy folk would get all up tight at the mention of kisses that don’t land on foreheads or cheeks. And this kiss was smack dab on the lips. There was suction. There was swooning. There were no consequential actions that led us into sin or regret. The kiss simply communicated “I care about you. I understand you. I value you as a person. Thank you for being you.”
Outside of the fullness of the fella’s lips– *dodges rebukes*– I can pinpoint three factors that contributed to the swoon factor.
Immediately following this seven-second smooch, I turned my back towards him, crumpled to my knees, and fell flat on my face— in my mind, of course. In real life, I zombie-walked away in complete and utter shock. Once I was alone I smirked and giggled like a fool.
Many of us are far too careless with our kisses. For some that may look like kissing too many people or not kissing the one you claim to love enough. For others, we fail to communicate what matters most in such an intimate moment, and that is your respect and admiration for the person of interest. We can’t be so careless to communicate our demands in hopes that the other party will be moved (coerced– whatever) to fulfill our desires. And selfish kisses are worse than bad breath kisses for one reason, and one reason only. They’re totally forgettable.
Next time you want to make someone swoon, remember respect and compassion will help you win the cause, but at the very least, you won’t be forgotten.
With love, sincerity, and pack of Chap Stick,
There is a point in intimacy that marks the the height of pleasure and the knitting of two souls. The satisfaction of pressing in is granted.
Sometimes in my car. Sometimes at the table. In my bed. In the kitchen. Who knows when the Bridegroom will come and request my expression of love? I’ve waited so long for love like this, I could never deny Him. And so I slip into something more comfortable– my garment of praise.
And I sing to Him. He loves when I sing. He tells me what He desires to hear, and I flow from one tune to another. I used to cry in these moments, but lately I’ve laughed more. He has an incredible sense of humor. The praise becomes worship, and the air around me changes. It smells of fine oil and carries a charge that makes my hair stand on end.
I feel His glory surround me. And fill me. I’m afraid to open my eyes because I cannot become distracted and lose Him. The invisible God is in my space, loving me, wooing me, leading me into a dance.
And I feel His pressure against my chest. And for what seems like too long, I can’t breathe. The hair follicles on my head do a dance. You can’t tell me He’s not playing in my hair (2 Solomon 2:6). And at the same time, He’s reaching the deepest part of my being, my spirit. No man can go that far.
And I tremble. I become rigid and weak in my attempt to catch my breath. I’ve climaxed, and Heaven has worshiped with me. And unlike what we know physically, this climax can last.
I can’t stand for the pleasure to end, but life has its demands. And so like a blushing bride, I gather myself so others won’t know I’ve just… you know… made love. And I go back to my daily tasks, still humming the tune that drew Him near, anticipating when I can be alone with Him again.
My beloved is mine and I am his! (Song of Solomon 2:16)
What I’ve recently learned is that every time I worship Him in this way, I leave carrying a seed inside of me. Sometimes it’s a new assignment or a burden of prayer or an endowment of joy or peace. He gives me what I need.
Like the lily among thorns, so are you, my love, among the daughters. (Song of Solomon 2:2)
How could I not love Him?Read More
Many proposed that I was being foolish and running from my problems.
Others thought I was being overly ambitious.
A few thought I was pregnant and hiding it.
The truth is that I moved for love.
I started packing in June and for two and a half months my children and I lived on the bare minimum while our nicer things remained in boxes. I had no money some days, and so I sold a few of my belongings to make ends meet. I did this all for love.
I quit my job before I had another. I submitted my 60-day notice before I had a new home. What kind of man would ask a woman to leave what she has to join him in another place with no certainty, no promise, no guarantees? Only trust. I did it anyway for love.
I drove to an interview and was certain the job was mine. Two weeks later– two weeks too late– they offered me a job, but not the one I wanted. He told me to come anyway. He needed to have me there. So I took the job for love.
Twelve hundred dollars was the cost for moving my things. If you don’t give me this money, then I can’t come. Someone came along and charged me six hundred. I paid them for love.
For weeks I was bound by fear wondering if He were telling me the truth. Was He being honest, or manipulative? Could I trust Him? If I moved my life… my children… my belongings… my career… my ministry… would He support me? Or would He leave me? Would He stay to mock me? I fought my fears for love.
I don’t know how many times I’ve said that I would never move for love, but here I am in a new city, my kids in a new school, working the job that I’ve wanted for years (they changed their minds), with plenty of time in the evening to do whatever I choose to do. I choose to spend that time loving Him.
And to be perfectly honest, I did run from some things. Even the animal kingdom knows that when a river dries up, it’s time to move.
And maybe I was being a little ambitious. I hate to be bored.
And, yes, I am pregnant, but not with a baby. With purpose.
And I did the thing I swore I’d never do…. I moved for love for One who is not a man that He should lie, nor a little boy that He should change His mind. He promised it, and He performed it. He spoke it, and He’s making it good.
Everyone has an opinion about how children should be raised. Outside of two resources that I can recall, a blog titled Raising Godly Tomatoes and a book about raising strong-willed children (scroll all the way down to my footer to see the book info), I can’t really think of a resource that’s given me such great advice that I’d swear by it. And there’s the Bible of course. Not all of us are nurturers by nature, but I want to share all the bad things I’ve done as a mother to my children just to prove to you that what’s bad for one may be great for another. And all the research may be chalked up to someone’s dissertation hours instead of actual parenting…
I”m sure you can find something research-driven and maybe even experiential that says my list of 21 things makes me certifiably crazy and therefore a bad mother. But my children are bright, happy, healthy, well-balanced… outside of being messy and moody sometimes, I cannot complain. Everything doesn’t work for everyone.
By the way, I feel guilty for NONE of the above!
Which unconventional methods do you practice with your children that contribute to their well-being?
Tell me about them in the comments section.
With love, sincerity, and hope for your future,