Laurel Thomas

glory Archive

Thursday

20

July 2017

0

COMMENTS

A Child’s Voice in the River

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A speech impediment plagued my five-year old self. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t pronounce my name. The letter “l” was impossible, the “r” tricky. My name, Laurel, required mastery of one or the other. The sound that tumbled out of my mouth in an untidy heap was not my name.

Awkward, mumbling “Ohwell” confused anyone who asked, “What’s your name, little girl?”

How could six letters arranged to identify me be so hard to get out of my mouth? It was embarrassing, even for a little kid who shouldn’t have cared much. After all, I was loved by the people who mattered. No big deal.

Except it was a big deal. But for reasons I didn’t understand at the time.

Later, when I experienced God, I realized why. Because me with Him was the point. The whole point. Me living this life, with Him, as only I could.

It took me awhile to figure that out. And to understood I needed to be grateful for all the parts of my life. In my worst moments, I’d made flawed decisions, opted for easy instead of difficult, and stayed passive when a mess required a response.

But those parts could be summed up in a sentence or two. Unlike the incredible joy of seeing my babies for the first time. When my husband and I locked eyes and knew we were part of a miracle – together.

Or the journey of recognizing my mom’s courage. Loving and appreciating with adult eyes how she responded to dashed dreams as a good mom – loving her kids and making the hard choice to protect us.

And accepting the wonder of a dad who chose me. Actually, he chose my mom first. But by choosing her, he embraced me. On purpose. He loved that way when I recognized it and when I didn’t.

I’d had great people who helped me along the way. Most of all, my husband. But, also leaders and bosses who taught me to be wise and work hard. Even the ones who blew it showed me that my decisions for integrity, or not, were me writing my own story. The one I’d be able to share with my kids in the years to come. Or not.

Colossians 1:28 has been talking to me all summer. Talking to me? Well, it’s a big subject. Christ in me, the hope of glory.

Confidence in God showing up as God in me? What does that look like?

I struggled a long time with the largeness of that thought. I’d focus on how many ways I’d missed it. And why. Until I decided to go another direction. It started with a simple prayer.

Lord, help me see You in me. Help me identify and treasure Your uniqueness in me.

Then, help me steward Your expression in me well.

A steward doesn’t just keep order and make sure life colors within the lines. A steward administrates what doesn’t belong to her. The assignment and it’s design are unveiled as I keep moving and trusting.

Finally, help me share it in love. Because love rests over my imperfections and somehow makes my offering lovely.

This summer, in time for my birthday, I’m discovering the one thing that evaded me as a child.

I’m learning to pronounce my name.

Wednesday

6

May 2015

2

COMMENTS

What’s Next, Abba?

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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