Lord
My heart longs for you
My soul thirsts for you
My spirit yearns for you

Fill me up to the brim
Let me to be changed to a brand-new wine skin
Just change me from the inside out
circumcise my heart, Lord

i don't care
i just want myself to be filled up completely in You
i don't care
even if there are stones casted,
spits being spitted,
contempt look everywhere,
mocks and jeers pierced in every direction
I still want to follow You, Lord..

i don't care of what others will say
i don't care of how ugly i looked standing
with my hands raise high to You
i don't care
because i know You are worthy of all things
You are worthy to be praised
You are the love of my life
You are God!
The Loving Heavenly Father
My Father in Heaven!

Let my eyes not to be weary
Let my ears not to be distracted
Let my heart be right in You
Let my mind and thinking to be holy
Let my mouth to speak righteously
Let my everything to be in You
So i can continue to look up to You
To turn to You in all things
To seek for You
And to bring glory to You!


Just use me oh Lord
Make me to be ready
Help me to bring glory to Your name
Let me to be fully willing to do that
Even if it costs a lot to me
Let me to be willing
But i know, if its bringing all of myself to You
It's worth it.
Help me to continue to trust in You.
to trust that you are always there
behind the picture of the mess i'm currently seeing
behind all the impossibilities
behind that black veil
that You are now looking at me
sitting and typing on my computer
Still loving me so much

I want to be brave in You
I want to stand strong in You
I want to hold onto that shield and sword
And just not be afraid or discouraged
Let my meekness to be lighted up in Your bravery
And that I'll just move forward without looking and dwelling in my past mistakes
To just grasp on what is forward, running towards it.

I love you, Jesus.





How i wait for that one day when i can hear You laugh joyfully!

The Hard Place

The best place is often the hardest place of all.

C.S. Lewis wrote, "We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."

How true.

I'm posting some lyrics from Third Day's "Tunnel" today because (and for reasons I cannot go into here) Sandy and I find ourselves in a tunnel of sorts. I awoke this day humming this song and grateful for the encouragement in it. Though it does not mention the Lord (much to my dismay), it is understood that the only real hope is found in Christ Jesus.

Of the many reasons for trials is the perspective that God allows us to pass through the fire to show His body and the world how His love and Life can come through in vessels that are consumed.

Sandy and I found out about 4:30 yesterday afternoon that our faith is on trial (1 Peter 1:7-These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed)
(1 Peter 4:12 - Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you.).

Some will be watching and judging along the way. God forbid, they will have their opinions why we face this recent drama. Some, sad to say, just enjoy seeing the calamity in others. Still others are dying to see Jesus in it and our prayer is that we will show them Jesus.

Pound us into dust, Lord, and consume us until we are no more. We want the Life of Christ to be carried on through our dying! (2 Corinthians 4:10,11)

In that same chapter, the Apostle Paul speaks of a tight, constricted place. A tunnel, perhaps, that narrows the deeper one descends. "We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed..." he wrote. Literally, 'we are squeezed on every side but we are NOT stuck there...' (v8) How wonderful! In Christ there is always a way out, a way up, and a way through!

In conversation this evening, Sandy and I were blessed by the Spirit of God who reminded us: often when we find ourselves in a hard place, we give all our attention to the circumstances at hand and forget that all we go through--ALL of it--is to prepare us for eternity! This, too, will pass. And in glory, it will not be remembered but the blessing that comes from it will shine on from glory to glory! (please read Romans 8:18; 2 Corinthians 3:18)

Those of you who know and love us, lift us to the Lord to remember these things. May your prayer be that the Life of God will come through Sandy, Graham and me. That what we face is undoubtedly a Tunnel of Love; that here is a place with no wriggle room so the Father can once again renew His covenant of chesed (Hebrew, 'loyal love') with His children. Praise Him in the Hard Place!

HOPEfully, you too will find His strength through these words to carry on. Indeed, child of God, there is light at the end of your tunnel for you...


Well I won't pretend to know what you're thinking
And I can't begin to know what you're going through
And I won't deny the pain that you're feeling
But I'm gonna try and give a little hope to you
Just remember what I told you
There's so much you're living for

There's a light at the end of this tunnel
There's a light at the end of this tunnel for you
For you
There's a light at the end of this tunnel
Shining bright at the end of this tunnel for you
For you
So keep holding on

You got your disappointments and sorrows
You ought to share the weight of that load with me
Then you will find that the light of tomorrow
Well it brings new life for your eyes to see
So remember what I told you
There's so much you're living for

There's a light at the end of this tunnel
There's a light at the end of this tunnel for you
For you
There's a light at the end of this tunnel
Shining bright at the end of this tunnel for you
For you

So keep holding on
Keep holding on...

Give thanks to God for this Pasture of Peace he has provided for us to lie down upon today...

Hearing God

I know God speaks today as I have learned to listen for and hear His voice. I opine(express an opinion) that I do not hear it more readily or clearly but that can be easily explained by a failure to do His bidding or when I seek my own way. He will not talk to people who are too busy talking themselves, or, worse, walking out of ear-shot of Him! No, the ones who hear His still, small voice are those who pay the extra wad of cash (alert: metaphor) for a pair of ear buds that can tune into the still, small stuff—His hidden strains and quiet refrains and the delicate tinklings of a higher frequency.

Jesus said,

"My teaching is not Mine but His who sent Me. If anyone is willing to do His will, he will know of the teaching, whether it is of God or whether I speak from Myself." (John 7:16,17)

A friend of mine says of this passage: "those who hear the Lord are the ones willing to put the 'amen' in front of their prayers as well as at the end." In other words, when we surrender our need to know and give up our 'right' to choose whether what He says is for us or not, then the Lord will speak with great clarity(clearness) and frequency.

Jesus also said, "My sheep hear and distinguish My Voice." (John 10:27) How does a Shepherd speak to his lambs? "This is the way" or "Follow Me!" and He even calls them by their pet names. When Saul was converted and blinded, God spoke to Ananias and gave him specific instructions as to where to find him, even giving him the address (see Acts 9:11)! You just have to have cleaned-out ears.

Charles Spurgeon said,

"Note well that we must hear Jesus speak if we expect Him to hear us speak. If we have no ear for Christ, He will have no ear for us. In proportion as we hear, we shall be heard.

"Moreover, what is heard must remain, must live in us, and must abide in our character as a force and a power. We must receive the truths which Jesus taught, the precepts which He issued, and the movements of His Spirit within us; or we shall have no power at the Mercy Seat." (Spurgeon, The Cheque-Book of the Bank of Faith)

Did you know that God sings? Imagine what that sounds like? To paraphrase, "He that hath ears to hear" let him listen through the Zephaniah 3:17 tells us that He "rejoices over us with singing."costly means of obedience and sacrifice. With a duddy pair of earphones ('nother metaphor), you'll miss some of the most beautiful music God has to offer you.


Go ahead, spend the extra. You'll NEVER regret it.

God's Hair Club

A number of years ago I heard a sermon relating to Samson and the after-effects of his departure from the Lord. Though a tragic figure, there is a scriptural gem that shines against the bleak(depressing) background of Samson's life.

There he was in the threshing house,
now with hollowed sockets where proud eyes once dwelt,
chained to a post and trudging in infinite circles,
grinding out the wheat for his captors(a person who has captured a person).
Each day he heard the laughter and endured the scorn. "Praise our gods!" they bellowed.
"Yours is dead but our gods have triumphed!"

Each laborious step from the humiliated hero sounded the woeful(unhappy) cadence(rhythmic flow) of failure, shame and regret. His scalp, chopped unmercifully, ragged and butchered and running with blood boasted precious few sprouts of hair here and there. The glory had departed. The crown had fallen from his head.

Each day he wished they would just kill him and get it over with.

Each day brought more humiliation and reminders of what he had and what now was lost.
But, with arms powerless to break loose of his bands and ghastly sockets running with ooze, his broken heart began to seek the Lord.

The merciful One looked upon His exiled(expelled) servant with pity as He heard the symphonic strains of that penitent(feeling sorrow for sin) soul. Wiped away in one glorious infinitesimal(indefinitely small) speck of time were the years of rebellion and the miles of philandering(carry on a sexual affair).

The ledgers(account book), once filled with the horrific smudges of sins, were erased with a mighty swipe of God's righteous Hand!
And then, just to shut the mouths of the accusers, the most amazing thing happened:

"...and the hair of his head began to grow again..."[Judges 16:22]

We know that his hair did not give him strength but it surely symbolized God's powerful Hand upon him.

When the hair was shorn(cut), it indicated that the Spirit of the Lord had withdrawn Himself.

Ah, but when the hair began to grow back–oh yes! When sprigs(small branch) of hair pushed through the surface of that barren scalp–the Philistines must have sensed a change of order was forthcoming! And indeed it was. This tortured soul became victor once again as God raised the roof and brought the house down!

Some weeks ago I had begun to notice that I was drifting from the Lord. My "wood was wet" so to speak.

I knew that I was permanently indwelt by the Spirit of God and that He does not come and go at will,
but I also knew that I was capable of drifting away from the warming coals of God and toward the shadows of self-will and deceit(act of deceiving).

And indeed I had. But as I look back now, with joy, I have seen that my "hair" has begun to grow again! A fire has returned, spiritual eyes have refocused and my heart palpitates(shake) with the very Life of God.

Perhaps you have detected a cold front heading in your direction. Or perhaps a cooling in your heart. That mournful breeze can feel like an arctic blast across a baldened head! Hey, we've all been members of God's Hair Club from time to time! And, I would suspect, we'll rejoin again sooner or later (let's pray later!). Why not let the grace of God massage life back into that dome(head) of yours. Pray for spiritual sight restoration. Are you tired yet of trudging on and getting nowhere? Sick of the crunch of failure beneath your feet? The mocking laughter of the enemy all around you? Do what Samson did. Turn to your Deliverer and be free. Get rid of the toupee(a man's wig). It looks silly on you anyway.

Are those hair plugs I see coming through your scalp? Praise God! Before long you'll be needing a comb.

[pasturescott.blogspot.com]

The nth Degree : A Passover Meditation (reflection)

A warm Palestine breeze fluttered through the open windows of the upper room. The torches glowing from the plastered walls danced and played in cadence(rhythmic pattern) at the onset(start) of dusk-light. Outside, in the lonely avenues, all was quiet as the swelled Jerusalem populace observed this most sacred of Jewish holy days within their homes and tents.

He must have had something on His mind as He sat there watching His disciples engage over the Passover meal.

From the looks of things, in the dim wash of early evening, the Savior's face was etched with unclarified emotion.

Deep springs of passion rose to meet His eyes and His accepting countenance(appearance) fairly (honestly) depicted(described) a fatherly tenderness(softness).

That's not to say there weren't conflicting themes within. Yeshua could see the long night ahead.

There was Peter–brave Peter–chuckling at some inside joke, stealing a wondering glance at the Rabbi, then going back to his innocent revelry(into the party) with deep-chested(broad chest)gusto(keen enjoyment).
This hard-edged(realistic, rigid) , soft-hearted fisherman, who had made no bones (no problems) about his allegiance(loyalty) to Messiah, would lie, curse and deny in just a few hours.

There was
innocent John Mark, in whose home they now reposed(rest), quietly listening to several conversations at once.
He was the youngest and most impressionable(easily impressed).
And, not long from hence, this future gospeler would run scared into the night, leaving his outer cloak in the hands of a Roman guard.
A casualty of war.
A scattered sheep.

Jesus' eyes took it all in.
Thomas' pensiveness(dreamily thoughtful - usually with some sadness)
Philip's wariness.
Simon and Matthew engaging in their nightly verbal fisticuffs(fight with fists)
John, beloved John, unsuccessfully imploring them to take the high road of brotherly love.

The Savior smiled, seeing His ragtag (mixed up) band, knowing each of their weaknesses and marveling that these were the men who would joyfully choose the narrow road and carry their crosses without apology.

But first they would fall away before returning for good. He softly chuckled to Himself, "Baby steps. A lot of baby steps…"

Rousted from His own revelry, His eyes fastened on
Judas, and Yeshua was instantly transported back to the matter at hand.
They exchanged piercing glances and Mary's Son could already see satan enter into the heart of the only disciple from Judah.
With eyes locked, the Father showed Him flashes of what was about to transpire and the only begotten could not help but wince in response.
The isolation in the garden. The betrayal. The blows. The scattering of His closest friends. The tearing of flesh. The horror in His mother's eyes. The hardest walk of His life. Becoming sin. The scapegoat. The turning of His Father's back…

Suddenly, raised voices from nearby dissipated these haunting images and He wondered at the interruption. Snapping back to the present, the Son of Man could hear that His men were once again at odds over their ranking in the future Kingdom. Each was brandishing their resume. He called me first…I was in the room when the little girl was raised from the dead…how could you be ahead of me? You couldn't even heal that man's son!…surely you remember that I cast thirty-seven demons out of that old woman in Nain! No one at this table can say that!…

Here He was, the sin-Substitue of the world and His men were not even sympathetic to His impending(about to happen) plight(condition).

Judas was licking his chops and lining his wallet. They were indifferent, insensitive and prideful. And something else: they were selfish and inconsiderate.

Already well into the evening's festivities, not one of these guys even thought about the dirty feet in that circle. Except for the Son of Man.

And yet, knowing what He was facing, and worse still having to put up with such tomfoolery(foolish behaviour) from friends, Messiah could not shake a deeper feeling that kept rising to the surface: He loved these guys to the nth degree! John must have been a keen observer for it was he that wrote the amazing words found in his gospel:

"Having loved His own which were in the world, He loved them to the end…" (13:1)

To the utmost. To the max. The nth degree. Can you imagine? With all that was churning in His fragile psyche(human soul) on that night, He was most concerned for His men. He, the Passover Lamb, slotted for execution, the just for the unjust, innocent blood, unblemished(lacking faults) nature. What was on His mind? Would these men know how much I loved them?

He not only taught the "second mile", He was the Second Mile! Check that: He was the nth mile!

Go the second mile and you will still be eternally behind the Christ you follow!
No way you can outlive, outlove, outgive and outserve this One.
Not a chance.

The following is well documented in scripture.
Jesus rose from the supper, took a towel and basin and washed each of the disciples' feet.
Even wicked Judas.

Each splash of water resounded with "I love you."
Every wipe of the towel on newly bathed feet carried with it the proclamation, "I forgive you."
As he restored the sandals to their rightful owners, His unspoken word was "I will never leave you, nor forsake you."

He showed us how, in this tender example and supremest of illustrations, that no matter how bad things may be for us, we can still take time to serve.



He also demonstrated that when evil is present, our love can overshadow the wickedest of situations.

And lastly (this is challenging, I know), there is no ministry so low and degrading when the Father calls us to rise from our place and serve— even the most undeserving.

By the by, who says we aren't the most undeserving?


[pasturescott.blogspot.com]

The Prodigal Son

Not Qetsatsah

For such effrontery (shameless boldness), he should have been slapped and shown the door. The unmitigated (not lessened) gall (shameless boldness). Such gumption (aggresiveness).

A rich kid, wanting to see the world, asked for, nay(and not only so but), demanded his share of the family fortune.

His slice of the pie. His cut of the cake. Trouble was, that was not the way things were done in his culture. To ask for an inheritance while the patriarch (the male head of a family) was still alive was tantamount(equivalent) to wishing him dead. It was unthinkable!

So begins the age-old story of the prodigal (wasteful) son as told by the Master storyteller Himself. From its very outset (start) Jesus had hooked His audience and they were sitting on the edge of their seats to hear what this good Jewish father–whoever he was–would do in response to such an insolent(disrespectful) lad(boy). What He said next must have raised the ire(intense anger) meter in the room to mercurial levels.

The father gave the son what he wanted, not what he deserved.

The boy was entitled to a third of the family estate and this enigmatic (mysterious) father, who should have disowned the ingrate (ungrateful person) on the spot, signed over the deed to him. Not wasting any time, the boy sold the land and left kindred (kin) and kind for the gaming tables, lusty vixens (female fox) and great lights of Vanity Fair. As the father grieved over the son of his loins(reproductive organs),
the final sounds of his son's presence in the home were the harsh slamming of the door and the plaintive song of heavy coins clinking and slapping in all the degenerate's pockets as the prodigal disappeared over the horizon.


Hands curled into fists and casual breathing turned into snorts of disapproval as the listeners got caught up in the story. Who is this kid, they thought. Let's drag him outside the city wall and rock him to sleep! To add insult to injured egos, the story takes a pathetic twist. The son, it turns out, blew his fortune while he was away in a presumably (probably) gentile (christian) district. Far from home, friendless and penniless now, the kid looks for employment. Anywhere. Anything. As Jesus spills this refrain (saying something), you can just imagine the smugness that begins to loosen their strained expressions and censuring (strong expression of disapproval) smiles curving on the faces of this elitist (pride in belonging to a certain group) gaggle of Pharisees. Serves the punk right. Okay, now we're gonna hear about some justice, you just wait and see…

Qetsatsah! Oh yes, the very thought of it rallied the room! Surely the boy had to undergo the painful lesson of qetsatsah!

In Jesus' time, there was a law on the books that stated if any Jew were to sell any part of Jewish land to a gentile, said person would experience a ceremony in which they would be banned and cut off from their people. Exiled with no contact with their kith or kin ever again! In a sense, that's what this kid had done. He had taken the money from the sale of his section of land and hawked it all in gentile dives!

As the whispers of qetsatsah sliced through the gathering like flashes from a harvester's scythe (curving blade), they pictured it all in their greedy little minds. An angry village, headlined by the shamed father, meet the boy at the town limits with a jar of burned nuts and corn in hand. The jar or jars are smashed at his feet with shouts of "You are no longer accepted! You are cut off from your family and your people!"

These PhD's of law were licking their chops, expecting the story to climax and end on this point. But were they in for a surprise! The father in the story, hero rather than victim, defied(resisted) all convention(meeting) with his outlandish (freakishly strange) behavior. He gave the son what he wanted not what he deserved and then he waited longingly for his son to return home! Then, when the son does gather his wits and turns toward the porch light of mercy (actually, he thought it would be the humiliation of qetsatsah) what does he see come flying toward him on two feet but a rejoicing father who falls on his neck and kisses the skin off his face?

The son expected retribution (punishment), but the father wanted reconciliation. This unconventional father who bit his lip when the son demanded the unthinkable. This eccentric Dad who waited and watched toward the horizon for the puff of dust he hoped would be a returning son, day after blessed day when he should have bid him riddance. This unflappable father who raced an angry village on unsteady legs, running for all he was worth, beating a path to his astonished son, making dead sure that the boy's first sights and sounds of home would be the joyous sobs and relieved cries of a father who wouldn't let the memory of his son fade, rather than bear him facing a hostile crowd, smashed jars of hateful harvest at his feet.

Even though he deserved it.

"Dad, I deserve qetsatsah…"

"No, my son. Not qetsatsah. Smell the prize beef, my lad, the best of the herd! Here is my robe…my ring…"

"But Dad, what I did…you just don't know all I've–"

"What you did, son, was come home. It was my love that drew you back. You may have left our home, but you never left my sight."

"I owe you, father. Make me one of your slaves! Work me double and triple-shifts. Seven days a week! I will work the rest of my life kissing your feet and the ground you walk upon to repay what I've taken from you–and the shame I've caused…oh, dear God, the shame…!"

"Nonsense! You could never repay me and I would never ask you to, my son. I am rich already with the return of my child! Come, let us celebrate…the wasted years have been redeemed!"

In my imagining, I see Jesus stopping here and eyeing his audience. Do you see it, His eyes plead. Do you? Can you see yourselves as the insolent lad…? Oh, how I wish you could…

No? Okayyyyy…well then (ahem), let me move on to the next act of the drama…let's talk about the other brother…


[pasturescott.blogspot.com]

The wonders of names in Bible

Adam– Man
Seth– Appointed
Enosh– Mortal
Kenan– Sorrow
Mahalalel– The blessed God
Jared– Shall come down
Enoch– Teaching
Methuselah–His death shall bring
Lamech– The despairing
Noah– Rest

Still need a hint? Okay.

The names, put together, tell the story of stories. Let's write it out:

"Man [was] appointed mortal sorrow but the Blessed God shall come down teaching and His death shall bring the despairing [His] Rest."

The story of stories, to be sure. And that's not all…

Isn't it wonderful that he put YOUR name in His story?