Worship, Create, Dream

Be free to Worship God. Create with abandonement because He is the Creator. Let's discover our Dreams together.


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View with a New Lens

Wobbling back and forth, oozy  wounds roughly covered with torn rags.. Sores, no ability to feel pain. I cannot bathe anywhere because the lesions fall into the water contaminating anything and everything. The area around  me wreaks as my body is slowly decaying.

What is worse? The condemnation of my body,  or the condemnation of my mind and soul?  My body will never allow a gentle touch or a kind word. What was my sin? I did not ask for this? Why am I receiving such harsh treatment?

 

A soft voice flows past  which I can barely understand. One ear is partially gone. Is the voice talking to me? Voices coming in my direction have been harsh and cruel. Each word is usually followed by a series of stones and sticks. Now my mind cannot comprehend a voice where the decibels are not barbarous and pitiless.

Jesus did not stop with the outer layer. He looked at the  inner beauty His Father created. With the Lens His Father had given Him, Jesus knew the freedom I am  still called to experience. I needed not only the deep cleansing from the outer decay. I would need an even deeper  cleansing of an inner decay toward all those who hurt me and refused to help me.

 

Jesus takes my hand. My first reaction is to shrink back. His holiness shakes my sins to shout louder than my leprosy.

. “Why would this Man touch me?”

 

Jesus eyes come to mine.  Peace settles into my soul. Peace washes over my body.. Healing sweeps over me. I feel the strange sensation of a smile come to my lips. I hear the sound of pleasant child hood  laughter and a bird’s song.
Jesus-heals-leper
(yahoo.com Jesus Heals a Leper free image)

 

I receive the inner and outer healing to live the creative story God intended for me.

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This teeny obscure flower is not a big eye catcher in the  restaurant herb garden . Compared to the beautiful orange flowers edging the garden for decorations, the yellow one probably doesn’t get second glance.

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It takes a special lens to bring out the beauty inside the yellow flower. The size did not attract me and I needed to take extra work to get deep inside.  It not only took recognizing the lack of my camera but I had to  recognize my need for the correct lens. I had a lack. I had a need.

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The same is true in life.

 

There are situations in life where the lens I use is not adequate. To see the inner beauty of God’s creation, no matter what it is, I have to recognize my lack. I have to recognize my need.

Some inner beauties we all may need a new lens from time to time:

  • family members
  • someone who votes differently than you
  • an art work when it is passed by
  • a book proposal getting rejected for the third (or fourth or fifth) time.
  • Please do not end the list here. Ask God, what inner beauty around you  is being missed, has a lack, has a need?

Jesus saw the beauty of the leper through the lens of His Father’s Heart. We miss the beauty of God’s Heart when we are unwilling to use His Lens to look at this world.

 

The proper lens makes a world of difference.

 

Be

Free

To

Worship

As

You

Were

Created!

 

 Forgiveness through God’s Heart and taking His hand will allow us to be free to worship as we were created.  You are welcome to comment and share. We are on this journey together.

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The Alabaster Jar

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A warm evening with a gentle breeze blowing bits of sand.  The streets are  empty. Lit candles glow  through  open windows show families enjoying their meals.   Laughter carries up and down the vacant cobblestones. Simon the Pharisee  is very delighted. Tonight he is hosting Jesus, the PROPHET whom  everyone is talking about. Almost giddily he thinks,  “Maybe I can find something out about this Man  that makes Him so special.”

Is the Pharisee, really showing an act of hospitality or are there ulterior motives?

 

Another part of town, a colder, darker part of town  contains less laughter. The meals are not filled with gaiety. Joy does not filter through these streets. The normal sound  is chaos from, wailing, unattended babies and  coughing,  sick children. If laughter is heard, it is anything but joyful.

 

The Woman’s small living quarters are in this part of town. While she lived with her mother, her house was decent. Her mother made a decent living. Now the Woman is alone. She makes her living in a sad fashion non decent manner.  Her heart is empty.

 

The Woman heard rumors. ” Could this be the Prophet.The Teacher everyone is talking about.?” she pondered. Gazing at the beautiful alabaster jar, her mind swirls..

  • “ I have no right to even think about going to that house.
  •   I caught a quick glance of Him in the market. His gentle eyes gave me hope.
  •  There will be other men in that house  who will know me possible who have known me. (she shutters).
  •   He looked into the eyes of that sick girl with such love and tenderness. With one touch a soft word,  He healed her.

 

Of course He healed her. She is holy. I AM NOT!

Could she deny the deep yearning and passion  drawing her to go to the house.and give?

 

The Woman looked again at the jar containing the costly oils for her livelihood. The jar was priceless. It belonged to her mother.

The Woman could not dwell on the matter any longer. Fear would consume her thoughts  making the decision for her if she did not move.

Quickly she wrapped a simple  shawl around her head and face  Grabbing the alabaster jar, she left her home. She could not be  bothered as she moved  to the other side of town. The fear of failure and  rejection ran rampant through her body. Beads of sweat from the brisk walk and the heat did not stop her body from shaking. She had no idea what to expect once she reached her destination.

The Woman did not consider how food would be purchased or bills paid after the oil was gone. It was not a consequence to consider now.

As unrealistic as it seemed, the intense draw to give everything to this Man was the only reality that mattered. The Woman would break her beloved jar, if she must.  She would pour out her oil, her love, her all.

 

Everyone was enjoying the well prepared meal. Food was perfect for the special guest.  Jesus was a perfect guest. Too perfect for Simon’s  taste. Nothing was happening. The evening was coming to a close with not even a tiny miracle or odd word.

 

The conversations continued. Without notice, as though covered by a shadowy protection, the Woman was on her knees in front of Jesus. Upon noticing the crumpled figured at His feet, the other men, close to Jesus gasped and moved away. They knew who she was. They knew her reputation.  Simon sneered to himself , “He can’t be as good as they say He is.  He should know what kind of a woman she is.”

Jesus looked sternly toward  Simon and said,  “Silence”.

Simon blinked being caught off guard.

 

Jesus eyes returned to the Woman. Softly and gently His gaze took in her actions, he took in her heart.  Her tears ran down her face. She could not stop crying. Raising to her feet, she broke the seal of the jar and stood over Jesus head. She tipped the jar.   The thick contents poured slowly  onto the head  beneath her.  With eyes  closed and head slightly lifted, Jesus received the entire offering, down His head, His beard, His shoulders. . This fragrant perfume flowed to his feet. The pungent aroma filled the dining area and beyond.

Moments went by. Not a sound.

No words passed between Jesus and the Woman. He looked into her eyes, into her soul as if to say.:  “Your sins are forgiven. Go and sin no more.”

 

The Woman unbound her hair to dry  tears and oil from Jesus.  Such deep love she had never known. It protected her from the judgemental statements against her actions.

 

” Wasteful!  If you really wanted to repent, the oil should have been sold to meet the needs of the poor,”  came  the verbal accusation on her pure act of love .  The Woman was not enslaved  by these attacks.  His love without rejection freed her.

 

Simon got what he wanted.  A card to use against this Prophet. He smiled to himself, “Either this Man  does not know the sinners, which means He isn’t a real prophet, or He does not keep the law by allowing a woman of this sort to touch Him. This Jesus cannot be the Messiah.”

 

The Woman rebound her hair as the men resumed their meal.  She gathered her shawl. With one last glance to Jesus, she turned and left the house without the alabaster jar.

 

As she walked down the street, the Woman’s  steps were light, relaxed, peaceful.  She had  no need to protect her face. Everything was  bright.  She looked to the sky. “Do stars always twinkle so beautifully?” She smiled.  Her breathing was deep and full. The Woman felt Joy. The Woman was Free..

glory of the Lord

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In this Lenten season, dare to go deep and experience the intimacy of real people referred to in the Passion stories. My story is a fictional  adaptation of Matthew 26:6-10 Mark 14:3-9,  and Luke 7:37-39. God is releasing people from fears through honest deep, intimate interaction with Him. Take His hand and walk through whatever it is He wants to show you.