Month: June 2019

I woke up with the sun, although physically tired, my heart was wildly awake. My dear husband snored lightly beside me, his pale back slightly exposed. My 1-year-old with tan caramel skin was sleeping peacefully. Her lips pursed close to her fingers. She was wearing a lovely sky blue and white dress. Her dark brown hair dangled over her closed eyes in fanciful spirals.

I tip-toed across the room and decided to grace my soon-to-arrive, family members in the lovely turquoise and ocean-blue patterned sun-dress my sister had given me.

After a fairly quick hot shower, I perfumed my body with aromatic pink himalayan salt lotion touched with the taste of heady essential oils.

After slipping into the dress and doing a few soft twirls, I decided it was perfect. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror and examined my washed face. Auburn braids fell across my shoulders and tipped below my chest. I wondered if I should put make-up on but decided it against—lest they think I was too dressed up.

Moments later I picked up my daughter and gave her warm milk…with each passing minute my heartbeat quickened in anticipation.

Suddenly I heard the code to the front door being pressed. I gathered Eden in my arms and ran toward the door—opening it hurriedly.

Three of the most loved people in my life all smiled brightly. The sun shining and warming their backs, illuminating their snow-white teeth and enriching their dark brown skin.

“Eden!” They all chimed together and started reaching for her.

With fake reprimand, I jerked my body away, “Oh, I see! I don’t matter anymore since becoming a mother?”

I hastened away toward the second living room with the electric fireplace set and widescreen television.

“Come give me my niece!” Azania cried and chased after me.

I giggled and put Eden down on the teal blue carpet. Suddenly three large adults surrounded her—two of whom she wasn’t that familiar with. She clung close to my side for a few seconds but then was quickly passed on from person to person.

Loud voices dotted on her, caring hands patted and rubbed on her.

She stared widely briefly and then started embracing all of the attention.

I grabbed my flame-colored worship flag with a ruby red handle and handed it to Eden. She gladly took it and started lifting it up and dancing with it. She reached for the television, expecting me to turn on the kids worship music video. When I didn’t she flayed her arms in fleeting protest and then started dancing around anyway.

My mother and sisters had just started asking me to make them breakfast when Stephen came down the stairway.

“Hey, what do ya’ll want for breakfast?” Stephen asked enthusiastically, “I can make pancakes and eggs for everyone.”

My heart sighed in grateful relief!

My family all thanked him with raised voices—as if each of them were trying to be heard over the other. While he cooked I woke up my cousin who was fast asleep in the lighting blue rental car. I giggled when she was startled to see my face. She had been deeply asleep for the whole drive. She gathered her things and headed inside to stretch out on the sandy colored couch. I helped my sisters unload their luggage.

After the large tasty breakfast, many of my family members drifted to sleep…each in different rooms in my parent’s large two-story house.

Two days have gone and it’s my 28^th birthday today. Each day with my family has been like collected a bag of treasures that will go into eternity. Each memory has stained my heart like a pleasing water-color glass mosaic. Precious tears have been shed from sensitive hearts, prayers have gone up like bowls of incense, laughter has erupted like trumpet blasts—loud, clear, ear-covering laughter.

The house has smelled like ginger and cayenne pepper caked fish for 36 hours, coating my clothes and the furniture with the memory of our celebrating the gift of life together. Bahamian rice with peas and coconut milk has been scarfed down and disappeared almost as quickly as it came. We have danced together, we have jested with each other, we have bowled careless words, we have kissed each other’s cheeks, we have laid on one another’s shoulders…we have lived.

Our last night together we participated in a life-coaching questionnaire together…. many deep things of the heart rose to the surface. We discussed our different places in life for almost 3 hours of intimate connection…sometimes with fear, sometimes with hiddenness, sometimes with gleeful enthusiasm and surrendered vulnerability. We ended in prayer and then worshipped until 11 pm in the night with colorful banners and lifted hands.

This morning the coffee pot has been brewed. I have looked fondly as eyes with bags underneath them have grabbed at the hazelnut creamer (it was a long, beautiful night that hued those eyes). Ruby red candles have been lit scenting the house like warm welcoming arms. Women are baking in the kitchen and sweet Johnny bread is rising in the oven. More words are being spoken as the dust of tiredness from two long days are being blown away by the readiness of living today…of loving today.

I am surrounded by noise, by life humming around me, by the greatest blessing Father has given me outside of a pure relationship with Himself…family.

I treasure these last few hours before they pack up and leave to return to their families (their husbands and children). I savor their presence like fluid oil on my skin, I relish the scent of them like lingering my nose at the touch of a soft petal. I weep in my heart knowing we will part physically soon.

My afternoon was spent in sweaty freedom, queenly extravagance, and rich generosity. After a Pilates workout, my sisters and I went to a neighboring reservoir at my suggestion. The hills were like browned hay, the wind was harsh, the bluish waters whipped about in waves. It was less than ideal, and I was grateful for their uncomplaining willingness to climb onboard with my impulsive idea of “fun.” We jogged down a hill, ran into each other, stopped for pictures, and became competitive. My sister Ashanti walked up to a hill with a narrow dirt path. Once at the top she turned her I-Phone on record. Azania and I stood at the bottom giving each other playful side glances.

“All right, on your marts, get set…. go!”

My throat burst forth giggles as we started off at a jog. When we reached the fork, I speed up and cut off my sister so she had to slow down to avoid the shrubs. The wind tossed my hair about my neck and shoulders. Azania laughed heartedly but didn’t push back. When we reached the top, I boasted in my smug success.

We met our father sitting in the rental car. He was content to keep out of the wind.

After our hike was over Azania treated my mother and me to extravagant pedicures. Our feet were soaked in hot salted mineral water that smelled sweet. Our backs were leaned against plush chairs that massaged everything from our necks down.

My leg was rubbed with oil and then kneaded by strong and gentle hands. A smiling middle-aged lady with silver strands streaking her jet-black hair put a steaming hot towel around my legs. She then began to work on my feet. Afterward, my legs were treated with hot rocks, and finally, my toes were painted before being slipped into neon orange sandals. I was then guided to a polished hazelnut wooden table decorated with a growing tree. Colorful ribbons were tied on the branches of the tree.

I took up a conversation with a lady who had just had her fingernails done. She too had been guided to the table. We sat across from each other and I admired her round bronze earrings with midnight blue moons at the center. Before long my sister caught my attention. She placed a pink strawberry iced drink from Starbuck’s on my lap. I was taken aback from her kindness…knowing my spa-like time at the salon was probably over $60.

After mom, Azania and I were in the car we drove to the store. My husband’s debit card was in my pocket. He wanted to buy my cake and ice cream. Azania and I slipped out of the car and she crossed her arm in my mine and held me close, “here’s some money for clothes,” she said.

I was once again surprised and almost wanted to protest but knowing that would sadden her, I didn’t.

We only spent a few moments in the clothes store. Undecided on what I wanted, I told her I would come back again. After I had picked out my choice cake and I went down the ice-cream isle and choose the fat-free frozen vanilla yogurt. 

Moments later, I walked into my parent’s comfy crowded house and relished the people inside. More noise resounded once my mother entered and I chuckled inside. Food was being cooked again and my sister Azania told me to meet her upstairs in my room. I wondered what was going on.

Once inside my room, I waited for her. In about a minute she appeared and started singing happy birthday softly. She handed me a black velvet bag tied with a glittery fall colored rope. Pacific Pearl was marked in cursive. She also held out an equally fancy jewelry box with a perfect bow at the center and a tan card.

I reached for the bag first but she told me to open the card.

I complied and took out two glossy hard paper cards picturing glamorous women on the covers. One of the women had piercing pretty eyes and clutched shimmering pearls to her refined cheeks. Her plush lips were pursed open.

I turned the cards around and squinted to make out the small handwriting.

“They are instructions on how to take care of your jewelry.”

My eyes widened in realization, “you got me real pearls?!”

Azania nodded slowly with a smile.

“No way!”

I put down the cards and opened up the bag. A stunning rose-hued pearl, the size of a succulent grape, was circled by sterling silver and hung from a sparkling chain.

My eyes were transfixed and I fingered my gift with gratitude and pleasure, “thank you,” was all I remembered saying.

Azania tied the pearl and silver around my neck and I examined myself in the mirror, feeling like a wealthy lady, “I will need to buy a dark formal dress to wear this with,” I stated, with every intention of purchasing one.

Azania nodded and we remembered the royal blue, lacy long dress I had considered purchasing at the clothes store.

“Too bad I didn’t get it,” I verbalized in regret.

“You can always go back,” Azania offered and I agreed.

            After my enamor with my new necklace had quieted enough, I remembered the box beside the bag. I went toward it and guessed what it was before I opened it.

“Earrings?”

Azania nodded, “yes.”

            Two matching earrings glowed like the dust of the first snow against dark velvet. On each earring hung three dangling pearls, beautiful like ornaments coated with dew.

“These are so beautiful!” I gaped and afterward squeezed my sister tightly.

            The rest of my birthday was spent in the usual tumultuous fashion: noise, loud laughter, voices overlapping one another, conversations bubbling like a never-ending brook, more food being cooked and, as always, the cooing of adults over Eden.

            As the sun began to set, my heart began to sadden. I lingered around my family like the shirts that framed their torsos.  My most-beloved friend Alice handed me the birthday card she had purchased for me, tucked inside of it was gift money. We hugged closely and briefly before she left to drive back to the coast before sunset.

            Three hours or so passed before my sisters and cousin were in the rental car, their luggage secured in the trunk. I started to weep inside but the Holy Spirit comforted me and I remembered how blessed I was to have spent a wonderful weekend with them.

            After some prayer, more hugs, and mushy sentiments, the engine rumbled and the headlights turned on. I hugged my arms in the cold night air and blinked back some gathering tears.

            “I love you!” I called as the car reversed out of the driveway. Azania and Ashanti waved. My mother who had been standing on the balcony, waiting for them to leave so she could watch her show, retreated inside.  

            My father and I slowly made our way inside. Stephen was setting up the high-chair my cousin had bought for Eden. He had also opened up the fancy gate my sister Ashanti had bought for my preschool. I thanked my husband and sat beside him, silently praising God in my heart for my family.

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.  Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us. -1 John 4:7-12

Throughout my life, I’ve always had the faithful security of love from my family. When I wasn’t saved, I didn’t value my family as I do now. When I drifted away from God’s fatherly heart and became religious, I overlooked menial things like playing board games together with my family. I thought “secular” activities like running down reservoirs with my sisters wasn’t as valuable as feeding the homeless or attending church service. But now I’m beginning to see that family is one of the greatest blessings God gives to us on this side of eternity.

God is pleased when I love my family well and when I receive their love. He dwells with pleasure in the midst of things like long conversations over coffee and frying fish to feed eight mouths who feast like they were the 5,000. He delights in the way we touch each other, in the way my sisters coo over Eden, and even in the way I playfully teased Azania after cheating. God loves to abide with us. He abode with the disciples when Jesus cooked them a fishy breakfast with baked bread on the beach after his ascent from the grave.

He’s there with you in every breath you take, in every sigh you make, in every friend you have lunch with. He’s there for every cup of coffee you pour. He’s there in every shoulder you rub. He’s there with compassion in every tearful hug, at every graduation celebration, in every diaper change. He dwells in it all and everything becomes holy ground when there is genuine love. The miracle of His love is that we get to do life with Him, we get to share His compassionate heart, we get to hear Him in the voices of our loved ones. May all your “secular” activities be sprinkled with holy awareness that God’s love is waiting to pour upon you and through you to your family.

“What is love?” John asked, “Not that we first loved God, but that He first loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation (the atoning sacrifice) for our sins.”-1 John 4:10.

Later he say’s the only reason why we love God is because He FIRST loved us (1 John 4:19). I’ve been on a journey, where the only command God has given me has rang clear like a bell through a valley, “rest and receive my love.” I waited years before I began this journey. Tonight while listening to the radio I noticed once again that most Christian songs are about how much “we” love God, how we will “make” His name glorious, how much “we” adore Him, how “we” will serve Him and go out and evangelize the world.

There is of course nothing wrong with this…in fact it is good! But those works are simply a fruit of the root which is receiving the love of God. The root is God, His grace, His life pouring through our souls from our spirits. I simply couldn’t help but notice that there is a scarce amount of songs, or mainstream Christian material, about how much God loves us. But there is plenty of material and songs to be had about us, and our efforts. His love is the very life source, the health of our souls.

Paul prayed that we would know the “height, depth, width, breath and length of the love of God,” so that we will be, “filled with all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:18). John wrote when one is perfected in the love of God fear is gone (1 John 4:18). How many Christians can say they fear nothing?

There is a scripture that I love in Zephaniah where in a silver glimpse of God’s love the prophet writes, “the Lord rejoices over you with singing!” (3:17). I once heard a man quote, “worship is the place where the lips of God cut dust again.” Worship, as Misty Edwards say’s so beautifully, “is a response to something we see in God.”

Our lives as Christians…or better stated as children of God is a response. A response to what? A response to the grace, to the love, to the freeing truth of Jesus. So worship is overwhelming joy and thanksgiving over the immense goodness of God. Worship is laughter of the heart. Worship is seeing something so marvelous that it causes joy to bubble over inside of the one who sees.

Tonight as I drove I prayed to God to make me a good receiver by His grace, to cause me to enter into that rest promised in Hebrews 4 where “my works cease” and His “works begin.” God has been beckoning me to enter into that rest. This rest is the place where we find all the work has been done..it is Eden (delight and paradise), it is a place where I find everything is complete without any effort on my part. It is the promise land of the soul. Israel was not able to enter because of lack of belief that God was that good….that He already prepared the land and had given them vineyards, houses, wells and gardens that they had NOT worked for or built.

Jesus has been telling me, “you’re already holy because I did the work for you to make you holy. You’re already righteous….God made you into my righteousness. You’re already loved perfectly, you’re already free…I have given you all things.” Religion and the world says the opposite. Even our movies about heroes (marvel movies, etc) are based on man’s efforts and works. All false religion…even false Christianity, also known as legalism, is about what you can do to please God, be like God, have peace…etc. Jesus says, “narrow is the gate…I am the way, the truth, the life.” The way is grace, the wings are rest and trust, the navigator is the love of God. And your ability to obey, stems from your ability to trust His good nature. Trust is always the fruit of love received.

God has been whispering to me about a life I am meant to live…a life He created all of mankind to live. It is heaven on earth. It is a place of beauty, wonder, immense joy, peace without measure, love indescribable, perfect health…it is a place He has already provided…and He say’s to me, “the way to enter is to receive without trying to earn…everything Jesus provided for you through His life, death and resurrection.” As Jesus said, “unless you become like a child…you will not enter into the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18;3). How does a child receive? Freely.

When people came to Jesus and asked him, “what must we do to do the works of God?” He responded with, “believe on the one whom God has sent (as in: believe on me, trust in me).” (John 6:28-29). When I was baptized and received the Holy Spirit as evidence of speaking in tongues (at The Holy Land Experience in Florida), the man who prayed over me quieted as we held hands and said something that was more precious to my soul than even speaking in tongues, “I love you,” he said for God, “I love you…receive my love.”

I often wondered why some Christians lived lives that weren’t healthy? I wondered why some people seemed to be unable to shake off bad habits? John answers this in the book of 1st John with, “because the love of the Father is not in him.” It is not trying to muster up love FOR the Father that is the problem, but rather a lack of receiving God’s love that is the problem. I often heard in church the importance of, “loving God, loving God, loving God.” God has said to me much more times, “receive my love, receive my love, receive my love. Eat my goodness, eat my sweetness, partake of my joy, drink yourself full…then everything will be effortless.” This great receiving will turn into great loving. When someone truly receives the love of God, they can’t help but fall madly, deeply, sweetly in love with Him. They also can’t help but feel good about themselves and accept themselves the way God does. Bondages are broken in the power of His love. Lies are torn off, demons are cast out, relationships are restored and holy living becomes effortless.

There is a promise land of the soul…and it is resting in the finished work of Christ that makes you heaven accepted, and the love of the Father that sent Jesus in the first place. He sent Jesus with no other alternative motive than to love you as a Father, and make you a part of His family. There is no other agenda. He created you, to love you 

~If you enjoyed this devotional on love, check out my book, Visions of Celestial Love. It’s full of 7 years worth of revelation that God has given me on His love. Be immensely blessed and receive!

Top photo by Thanh Nguyễn from Pexels