Laurel Thomas

Monthly Archive: May 2015

Thursday

14

May 2015

3

COMMENTS

Rain and the Hidden Seed

Written by , Posted in Blog

Here’s today’s answer to my What’s next, Abba?

I’ve watered your land and broken an assignment of drought. Even as I pour out My goodness on the earth, know that I am breaking drought over you, beloved.

My rain of life and light comes to refresh and fulfill the next measure of your destiny. There’s a new place in My plan, not just for you, but for My people and those you’ve prayed for.

Rain washes an accumulation of pain and difficulty. It nourishes hidden seed, the seed you planted years ago by receiving My Word. You forgot your obedience because it looked so insignificant. But I didn’t forget.

It is imperishable seed, which though hidden, waits for the rain of My Spirit. It is a promise you thought life left behind, that will sprout before your eyes in the days to come.

Rain seems inconvenient. Muddy feet track into your clean house. You put off morning walks in hope of sunshine tomorrow. But rain is My answer to the cry of your heart. Don’t miss seeing My voice speak in its downpour.

The skies rain hope and expectation, targeting the hidden and releasing it from ground packed hard by dry seasons and hard times.

So look forward to seeing the life of those seeds you’ve forgotten. Their harvest will surprise you. After all, does a stalk of corn look like its seed? Does a ripe, yummy tomato look like what you stuffed in the dirt?

I’m a good Abba and I love to amaze you with My sweetness. The harvest will be rich and satisfying, designed by My hands, just for you.

Enjoy these soggy days. I’m speaking!

Shalom,

Laurel Thomas

Wednesday

6

May 2015

2

COMMENTS

What’s Next, Abba?

Written by , Posted in Blog

I came to my chair to pray this morning, not sure how to receive from Him. Have you been to that place where you don’t want to go anywhere that might require what you don’t have? Makes me want run and hide.

The sad thing is I often treat God with a fear that He only greets me with a reminder that I’m not enough and with assignments I can only hope to fulfill.

Weird, I know. Coming to the Savior with my own salvation in short supply.

One thing I’ve learned this year. Writers are healed as they write. So that’s good news. I can pick up my pen and let the ink flow. Amazing how the Creator accepts my invitation as I ask a simple question.

What’s next, Abba?

I hope His answer comforts you, too, wherever you are and however you need Him today.

Abba’s response:

Do you believe I want to refresh you? That I know you’re tired and need to be filled instead of give? There’s a reason you come to Me with that fear. It has a name and today I’m breaking its hold on you. It is shame. Accept My war against it. Know that I’m never a part of its demonic agenda.

Instead of believing that I hand out shame when you need refreshing, know that My heart is a Savior’s heart. I am mercy. Not the kind some consider weak and just a nice idea. My mercy flows like a mighty river, strong and cleansing. It penetrates a concrete fortress of lies and embraces the heart’s faintest cry.

For so long you believed life had to be ordered, in careful perimeters. Not so. Look at the ocean you love. It laps over the shallows with gentle waves one morning, inviting a swim. It pounds sandy shores the next, reshaping and transforming them with its power.

So welcome to Me, beloved. Welcome to the wild side! You’re connected to My heart in ways you don’t understand yet. Yes, I hear you talking like you know it all when you’re insecure. I see you present a good show when you’re afraid.

Remember the ocean. Are you able to master it? Able to swim and get where you think you need to go? No? Okay, then, you can let that veil fall. It is a veil of shame. It isn’t My garment.

My garment fits you with perfection. Its lovely in My eyes. You didn’t have any hand in creating it. It’s all Me. I formed you in your mama’s womb, knowing how I would clothe your nakedness with exquisite beauty.

But shame, a subterfuge, blinded your eyes. Shame worked hand in hand with poverty. Trying was never enough. You were never enough. That lie required a hiding place and shame was happy to provide it.

So come into the Light, out of the shadows. Let Me robe you. You won’t need pretense or fragile efforts to cover your fears. You were meant to live in Me. Always. I’ll fill the gaping wounds with My oil. The oil of healing for you and for others.

I love you, dear one. Go into your day knowing that My hands have crafted a robe of glory just for you. Receive its reality and let its beauty shape your expectations.

Shalom,

Laurel Thomas