My post, “A Time to Heal”  is up.
There’s quite a bit packed into this one little post. I surprised myself  with the words.

I call this my Jesus dream…though it was really as far from a dream and closer to reality than I’ve ever experienced.

I knew very little Jesus and the Bible at this time in my life.

Friday, May 14, 2004.

(3rd POV) Everything was blank-paper white. I was waiting in a very long, single-file line. I could see everyone in line. I was near the front. There was no sense of urgency or anxiety. No one was talking. Everyone was facing forward and not moving much at all. We all took one step forward when the first person in line entered the doorway. I was next.

I entered the doorway and everything was still blank white. I walked. I knew the way. Though everything was still blank white, without definition, I had to weave my way through a labyrinth of sorts. I couldn’t see with my eyes that there were turns, but as I was walking, I would just know to turn left, walk a couple of steps and turn left again and then a final left before turning right and an immediate left and I entered into color. I wasn’t just looking at or seeing colorful things, I was part of the color. Almost as if I was a particle in a sunset. I felt a sense of serenity, calm. I had arrived. I was looking around, the colors were spectacular and there was an energy in my body from experiencing this color. I could hear a distant waterfall to my left. The colors of the sunset were now gone and I seemed to be in some sort of tropical paradise. Flowing waterfall, river, flowers, beauty everywhere. I knew what I was there for. Even when I was waiting in line, I knew. But I didn’t know why.

(Switch to 1st POV) Then I sensed Him. He was leaning up against a tree with his head resting on His knees, sleeping. I walked slowly so as not to disturb Him. I was a couple of feet from Him when He opened His eyes. I fell to my knees and my arms were in front of me on the ground, never breaking eye-contact with Him. I was startled and calm at the same time. An overwhelming sense of anxiety and peace swept through me. It was Him!

We spoke without opening our mouths at first. “Are you ok?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, “I was resting. I was memorizing what my Father would have me say.” (But I knew he was not memorizing what he would say to me–but to “them”)

“I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

“I knew you were coming.” And He smiled.

I was with Him a very long time.

(Back to 3rd POV) He was sitting on the ground with his arms now wrapped around his legs. I was opposite Him. There was a long (very long) period of time where we are talking and I’m experiencing this from 3rd pov and I’m not privy to the conversation. A very, very, very long time.

(Back to 1st POV) He touched me. He touched my arm. He reached out with His right arm and wrapped His hand around my left are just above the elbow.

And I knew.

The touch took my breath away and knocked me back a bit. He knew this would happen as His grip tightened before I was knocked off balance. I gasped and all the while still stared into His eyes. We stayed like this a long time.

I knew everything I was supposed to know. It was an immediate transfer of knowledge, understanding, wisdom, everything. With just one touch. I was entranced and awestruck.

With His hand still holding my arm, He stood and gently led me to do the same. He hugged me and then stood back a bit, this time, both hands on my arms. He looked me in the eye and said, “Now go.” His voice was gentle, almost a whisper. And He smiled.

I took a deep breath. I did not want to leave, but I knew I’d see Him again. And I knew that He had given me instructions and knowledge and wisdom and authority.

* * *

Telling my (former) pastor about this dream led to accusations of heresy. I was brought before the leadership team (and their wives) and every one of them recounted all the ways I might have been unbiblical. My husband and I left that church February 20, 2006.  Two days later, my uncle (more like my brother) committed suicide and my family wanted that pastor to officiate. I called him, telling him I wanted no part of him, but my family was asking for him and it was his choice. He came. He ministered to my family.  I tried to reconcile and he would have nothing to do with it.

This is the short version.  The long version is so very painful.

The good news is that Jesus wins. I serve a great a might God, Yahweh, who does still come in dreams. Who is the living God. He is Immanuel–God with us.

And even when men (and women) get in the way…maybe we need to be reminded of God’s response to Job?

Where were you when I established the earth?

Who enclosed the sea behind doors when it burst from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and thick darkness its blanket, when I determined its boundaries and put [its] bars and doors in place, when I declared: “You may come this far, but no farther;  your proud waves stop here”?

Have you ever in your life commanded the morning or assigned the dawn its place, so it may seize the edges of the earth and shake the wicked out of it?

Have you traveled to the sources of the sea or walked in the depths of the oceans?

Have the gates of death been revealed to you? Have you seen the gates of death’s shadow?

Can you fasten the chains of the Pleiades  or loosen the belt of Orion?

Can you bring out the constellations  in their season and lead the Bear and her cubs?

Do you know the laws of heaven? Can you impose its authority on earth?

Can you command the clouds so that a flood of water covers you?

Can you send out lightning bolts, and they go? Do they report to you: “Here we are”?

(and that’s just a taste of what was said.)

We think we hold the power of God in our hot little hands, doling out the “cans” and “cannots” of  El Shaddai–God Almighty. We are nothing without Him. We get in the way and by the grace of His touch, He forgives us, still. We condemn people to eternal separation. We are ungrateful servants.

Jesus told the disciples a story about another ungrateful servant and the end goes like this:

“The king summoned the man and said, ‘You evil servant! I forgave your entire debt when you begged me for mercy. Shouldn’t you be compelled to be merciful to your fellow servant who asked for mercy?’ The king was furious and put the screws to the man until he paid back his entire debt. And that’s exactly what my Father in heaven is going to do to each one of you who doesn’t forgive unconditionally anyone who asks for mercy.”

It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the Living God.

I don’t want to do what I do out of fear, and I don’t. But some act as if there is nothing to fear…

the act of thanksgiving.

giving of thanks.

the act of giving thanks…

Two days from now, I’m leading a Visual Prayer workshop and our focus is this act of thanksgiving. The Spirit has led me to focus on one particular verse

Enter his gates with thanksgiving
and his courts with praise;
give thanks to him and praise his name.

and I’ve been following trails throughout the Bible, tracking down Greek and Hebrew meanings of words, going from one verse to another, book to book, and these aren’t rabbit trails leading me off into a maze of distraction.

these are all connected

Pencil and ruler in hand, marking sections to read at the workshop, I sat with Ann Voskamp’s “One Thousand Gifts” last night.

Last year when autumn darkened the sky and the leaves , and my heart was dark still from grief, I started counting my one thousand gifts. Three a day because that was all I could manage and I couldn’t even manage a whole year of three a day.

I did this before reading her book, before knowing that she, too, understood the dark.

…and it changed my life, her words on the page like the manna in the desert, the manna–the “what is it?”–the mystery, her words of manna fed my soul last year.

I wondered this morning, when did I start the counting of the one thousand gifts?  I stood up and reached for the October journal–empty. November.

November 9, 2010 started it like this

yes indeed, God did it again. It’s all connected and if we only pay attention we see.

I started Visual Prayer June 7, 2008. My mom died June 7, 2010.

I started counting one thousand gifts out of grief over my mother’s death and hope for something, healing maybe, on November 9, 2010. One year later, a new spirit of hope growing in me, I prepare today, to teach the transforming act of thanksgiving.  November 9, 2011.

and I start giving thanks again physically, in this journal.

Last year when I started I acted, as in pretended to have faith. Hoping that the three a day thanksgiving would do something. Now I’m doing something to show others the transformation.

What started as an act is now a way of life.

 

walk with him wednesdays
life: unmasked

I had to come back to this post to add this:
Ann Voskamp‘s post today, about God knowing and meeting needs…

“Gratitude is born in the heart. And it leads you to action.”

I should not be surprised that God is echoing here the cry of Ann’s heart.

A quick conversation occurred last night with someone we haven’t talked to since before Phil was fired, since before we moved. Which, really, was only a couple months ago, but a lifetime, too. There was concern over whether or not our family was well. At least I took it that way because I tend to read between the lines and if I know a person, I can normally, pretty accurately, know their motives. It’s a gift and a curse, the knowing. I’d rather be naive most days.

“I’m glad you guys are happy”

“Angry is ugly and we choose to enjoy and be content,” I replied.

What I normally would’ve done, what ran through my mind, was to do was tell of the emotional stress, the chaos of having to find a new place to live, a new job, a new everything in less than a month with almost no savings and very little unemployment.  But the truth is, this time, this traumatic event, I didn’t dwell on the bad stuff. Yes it was there and it sometimes snuck up on me. But for the most part, I was ok with the change.

It felt a lot like how I imagine Moses felt when leading the Israelites out of Egypt, out of slavery. They were taken care of in Egypt, fed well, clothed

but they were still slaves.

They were owned

and then God released them in a very big and public way.

Two Sundays ago, our Pastor spoke of being a slave to Christ. The Greek term for “slave” is dulos which has emphasis on serving.  My mind immediately went to a contemporary term, “doula” the person present at a woman’s birth, giving non-medical support.  This term also has its roots in this same Greek word and doula means “female slave.”

I understand how a doula works. I’ve taken photos at my friend’s home birth and watched her doula care over her. My aunt is a doula. And these women, these doulas, they come up alongside of the woman in labor. They choose this. They are not forced, coerced, or otherwise.

Am I forced to be a dulos to Christ? Absolutely not. Yet, many days I wear the chains of this servanthood as if I am beat down by a cruel master.

To be clear, it is me who chooses to pick up those chains of bondage and carry them.

I read a passage this morning from 1 Corinthians:

“Each one must live his life in the situation the Lord assigned when God called him…Each person should remain in the life situation in which he was called. Were you called while a slave? It should not be a concern toyou. But if you can become free, by all means take the opportunity. For he who is called by the Lord as a slave is the Lord’s freedman. Likewise he who is called as a free man is Christ’s slave.”

That word “freedman” is used only once in the New Testament. It means “a slave that has been released from servitude.”

Today, I set out to write about us choosing joy, choosing to be happy and content and somehow (thanks Holy Spirit) went down a rabbit trail of slavery.  Such a heavy topic on a beautiful Saturday morning. But this freedom falls on me like sunshine in the morning. It warms my soul and the heaviness falls away as I realize He has not only set me free from death, but also, set me free from the slavery I keep choosing.

I was given a verse recently, aptly from the book of Joshua: “Consecrate yourself, because the Lord will do wonders among you tomorrow.”

I’m starting to see that I’m being led out of slavery (into Slavery) into the Promised Land.  And though there will be battles, I’m looking forward to this new freedom.

it’s easy for this introvert to sit inside her home and type out blog posts and bible studies and workshop lessons. it’s easy for her to get lost in the time, not leaving the house for weeks on end, not wanting to leave, calling her husband at work asking if he can pick up milk and butter because she doesn’t want to leave just yet.

it’s not easy for her to go and be with people. and so God forces her in big and mighty ways to go…

and He meets her there alone amongst the women

and He breaks her

He breaks her in half and holds her up for the world to see

(and the thought occurs. Jesus at the last supper. Jesus breaking bread, take it, eat it, this is my body.)

(and i am part of the body, am i not?)

what am i giving of me? how am i to abide in Him if i hide inside and only look out?

and He turns the heart inside out and reminds her during prayer that He gives new mercies

and so should she

though it’s not easy to change, she’s glad He sees her from the inside out.

 

 

 

 

bigger picture blog, linked at Lenae’s

Sometimes I feel crazy with awareness. Paranoid even. When I speak of and share the spiritual battles that rage around me and list the firestorm that inundates me–I’m pretty sure, deep down, people think one of two things. 1.) Thank God I’m not Michelle, or 2.) She’s insane.  I’ve seen it in your eyes, heard it in your comments. I know.

and I’m ok with it.

After reading “Sifted” though, I feel vindicated. Silly to feel that way, but the truth. Rick Lawrence opens with telling me what I kind of already felt I knew, that we can withstand a tragedy that comes along not so often in our lives, but the onslaught of little battles that occur often and simultaneously and endlessly…those are the battles that tear us down. They eat at our foundation like termites.

I received this book in my mailbox for review on July 26th. The past six years, maybe even the past decade, feel like a war.  I said, “I’m afraid that if I get close to Him again, something worse will happen. And I don’t know how to let go of that fear.”  Looking back, I feel I was right to be afraid. In 2010 my mom found she had a brain tumor and died eight weeks later. Phil’s dad died. and finally on July 27, 2011, Phil got fired, which meant we lost our home as well as a job. Life has not been easy.

I started reading “Sifted” the night it came in the mail thinking, I”ve been sifted.  The  next morning when Phil told me his job was terminated and we had to move within forty-five days, I kinda knew I (we) were still being sifted.  I spent the next few days reading this  book replacing “Simon, Simon” with my own name:

“Michelle, Michelle. Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Michelle, that your faith may not fail. and when you have turned back, strengthen your sisters.”

I think the first thing I had to understand was that “Trust is the currency we spend and receive in all our relationships–if there is no trust, there is no intimacy.” And I was not trusting God. I was too afraid of the circumstance I might have to go through if I did trust Him. Silly? Maybe. But true.

Accepting that I need to trust God, also means admitting I must accept what comes next. After all the death, betrayal, loss, hurt, pain, and everything else that has been endured in the previous decade of my life, the question bubbles up often, “What more could happen?” and the answer to that very question is paralyzing.

Rick Lawrence examines under a microscope the intricacies of this being sifted. From understanding Satan’s MO to God’s sovereignty. He gives us truth to stand on.

1. Satan does not operate out of legitimate authority; he navigates solely by deceptive and illegitimate legal authority.

2. Satan is detailed, organized, shrewd, and systems oriented.

However…

1. God is never leveraged by evil

2. There is never a moment when God is not telling the truth.

3.  God always goes first.

4.  God is love and love allows its beloved to taste the delicious fruits of hardship.

 ”God’s assent to His Enemy’s demand to pound Peter (Michelle) with hardship is like a gardener’s commitment to fertilize his crops–he knows that fertilizer is just the sort of poison that will fundamentally perpetuate his plants’ survival in the face of killing assaults. Only an ignorant farmer refuses to fertilize. And only a disrespectful and pandering God keeps His children from the hardships that will make them impervious to the only true fear: ‘Do no fear those who kill the body buy are unable to kill the soul: but rather fear him who is able to destroy both the soul and body in hell” If the only fear worth having is the fear of One who can destroy both soul and body in hell, and instead of fear we feel only magnetic love toward that One, we are free indeed.

 I dog-eared more pages in this book than you can imagine. It seemed that nearly every page had this blaring siren of truth jumping from the pages.

“… faith is a tension between extremes–like a person balancing on a tightrope wire, you have no chance of walking on the wire unless it’s pulled taut. Likewise, there must be tension in our faith, or we won’t be able to live it.”

“God is unfailingly kind but only sporadically nice. That’s true because the nature of His kindness is radically different from its popular and shallow translations. Kindness isn’t measured by the act but by its effect.”

Truly, I could go on for hours or days unpacking the weight of this book and distributing it to the compartments of my life. It has helped me more than one single book has ever helped. Not just for what I’ve been through, but what I will go through and because of reading it, I am better equipped. The fear is no longer so prevalent.

“The best use of our energies is not to try harder to be like Jesus, but to stay closely connected to Him–the branch embedded in the Vine.”

“Application as a discipleship strategy is severely overrated–real transformation happens when we draw near to God.”

“Understand-and-apply is a me-centered, exhausting, and ultimately demoralizing exercise in manufactured grace. It is the same exercise once practiced by the Pharisees, who were lambasted over and over by Jesus for practicing a ‘form of religion’ without its ‘substance.’ We cling to it because we are controlling–we understand how to do-and-do-and-do but we don’t understand how to abide.

“Application can take us only so far. Sifting will expose it for what it often really is–a willful determination to live our lives outside of desperate dependency on the grace of God. ”

Long review?

Yes.

And yet, I’ve only skimmed the pond with a rock here.

Do yourself a favor and just buy it. Seriously.

from my journal:

Last night (yesterday in general) was tough. Not the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but difficult. Some people (ok, a lot of people) from last year remember my bad attitude. That stings. Even though I was completely honest and wouldn’t have lied or covered it up–but to know the impression I left was so not appealing? yuck.

 

I so sorry I showed you my ugly. Thank you for showing me a reflection of Christ and his love instead of a reflection of my nasty heart.

Large groups of women frighten me, but Christian women especially give me pause. The squeeing especially. The girliness. The make up and hair and fashionistas. And I judge you. I think you’re going to be like all those other Christian women who have hurt me–some knowingly. You look the same, you speak the same language of being washed in the blood and you say “oh my word” and “bless your heart” and you drink tea and homeschool your children and you don’t allow all that secular trash into your home and  you have no clue how much that turns me off. I do not know how to be like you.

Oh yes, I’m an introvert who knows how to access a brief extrovert, but I’d always rather be home or away from masses and being with the people does not energize me, it exhausts me.

After dismissing the crowds, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray. When evening came, He was there alone.

Jesus. My Number One Introvert.

And yet, even though I’d always choose being alone to being in a sea of people, there was a time when I yearned for a spiritual mentor, a woman with whom I could share. Prayers sent up often, falling on seemingly deaf ears. But then He answered.

(from my journal, from the writing prompt “memory” at a Relevant session)

2005. Lifeway Women’s Leadership Conference.

Travis Cottrell takes the stage. I’m reading my program deciding where God would have me go. ha. I’m deciding. right.

The music starts. Thousands of women rise to their feet in praise of our Savior. I can see them in front of me. Looking to my left, though, the pew is empty. To the right. Emptiness again. Behind me, women overflowing every pew in the sanctuary.

Except the one I’m in.

Alone.

And I pray again, “Lord really? Can I not have a woman come beside me? Why am I not blessed with a spiritual mentor?”

and He said,

“Am I not enough for you?”

* * *

Like David admitting to Nathan, “I am that man,” I understood. And He led me through the valley, the dark, and I got hurt. He picked me up, pushed me along. Forced me to rely upon Him.

but then

he forced me to depend on you. you women who have broke my heart and trashed my love. you who have accused me of the nastiest of nasty. you who have cast stones. you who have betrayed my trust. he forced me to depend on you.

In my mind, there is a deep separation between me and this mass of women. As you cannot detect one molecule of H2O in the ocean, so I cannot detect the individual in a crowd. You are water to me. I can dip my toes in. Get used to the temperature and wade in slowly, eventually neck deep. But as you envelop me, breathing is labored and I might drown, so I back out.

But a glass of water–controlled by the barriers formed by my cup, a cup I can hold in my hand. A cup from which I can sip…this is where I can meet with you and not drown.

and maybe

maybe I am not supposed to be like you

maybe (really?) maybe I am just me.

rough

empty

hard and cracked

dried out and knowing that God will break me

and it will be painful

and maybe He allowed a few of you, just enough of you, to quench my thirst.  To be added to the hard, cracked, dry clay of my heart

just enough water to make me pliable.

maybe

Relevant11

There are no words for the humbling this has placed upon my heart. I’m just in awe of God and how he’s moved you to generosity (for me?) for me… I pray that you are as blessed as I am at this moment.  If you ordered a piece of art from me, I promise you that my love and prayers will be poured out over them like this.

Thank you all for making my soul sing.  I can’t thank you enough.

 

* * *

 

I’ve never done anything like this before.

I’m going to take a leap of faith here–I’d LOVE to go to TheRelevant Conference again, but have absolutely no means of making that happen. I mentioned it yesterday and since then, in less than 24 hours, a ticket and a room have become available. (the conference sold out in ONE minute. Not kidding.) Which means I can go *IF* I can find a sponsor or multiple sponsors. Would you like to sponsor me or do you know a company that would pitch in?

 

Marketing Directors: currently, I have a Klout score of 71 and a Google Page Rank 3. I can give blog stats for marketing purposes. I’m willing to work out a sweet deal with sponsors. I would need a total of around $650 (conference ticket, airfare, hotel, and food) and am willing to enter into a long term agreement with the right company. Last year I attended thanks to Feld Entertainment.

Oh yeah, the conference is in a couple weeks. Oct 27-29th!

 

Companies, please contact me: MLPendergrass at gmail dot com

Individuals–even $5 would help!

I’m willing to sell art as sponsorship–For $25 I’ll create an 8×10 piece of art for you by Christmas. (normally $50) For you or a gift. You can choose a tree painting, a Visual Prayer, or one of my photos!

You can view samples of my artwork:

2010 paintings

2011 paintings

 

If 30  people each order a custom art piece then our goal is met!!

If 19 people each order a custom art piece then our goal is met!!

If 18 people each order a custom art piece then our goal is met!!

If 16 people each order a custom art piece then our goal is met!!

If 8 people each order a custom art piece then our goal is met!!

If 6 people each order a custom art piece then our goal is met!!

If 4 (4 people!!! ohmygosh!!)  people each order a custom art piece then our goal is met!!

If 3 (3 people!!! SO close!!)  people each order a custom art piece then our goal is met!!

2 MORE. wow.wow.wow.wow.

ONE more. (I don’t even have words. Just tears.)

YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Thank you so so so  much.

  Thank you all so much for supporting me!

** All donated monies will be returned if I don’t meet my goal.

***Anyone ordering the art will have the option of continuing with the custom piece or canceling and a refund will be issued if I don’t meet my goal.

(some are having problems with the donate button. You can go to paypal.com and donate to athomewithmp@yahoo.com )  Thanks!

My newest recipe for fresh basil pesto is up at She{hearts}It.  Enjoy!!

simple moments