Let Your Light Shine Before Others

Are you a light to all in the house?

In Matthew, Yashua has a pretty clear opinion on how visible our light should be: “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” – 5:14-16

How many of us are actually holding true to this teaching and emanating the light of Yahweh to the world?

Back in December of 2013, I touched on this topic. However, that post was more focused on standing up for what was right in the face of unrighteousness. What I am trying to focus on now is living a life filled with light.

1 John 1:5 helps teach us what that entails: God is light. So letting our light shine before others, would be letting our God shine before others. God is also defined as Love in 1 John 4:8. So, letting our light shine before others, could also entail letting our love shine before others. For God is love just as he is light. Moreover, it is both together, for letting our love shine before others is to let our God shine before others.

This would pose another idea, if we are to take that shining our light is producing love as truth, then that would also mean that love would produce good works, for it is through others seeing the good works that they give glory to our Father in heaven.

That would suggest that love is not a feeling or emotion, but an action. An action with visible results. Can people see the works of your love? Or do you only “love” on the inside?

So, I ask again, are you a light to all in the house? Are you a beacon of love to everyone that sees you? Would the witnessing of your life cause the glorifying of God?

Or, have you taken on the likeness of the world, so that when others see you they just see the same world that they have always seen?

No one claims it to be easy and would create a “happy” life. Perhaps this is why directly before Yashua teaches this lesson, he blesses those who mourn, who are merciful, who are meek (humble), who hunger and thirst for righteousness, who are pure in heart, who are PERSECUTED. He blesses those who are persecuted, because he knows that following his teachings will bring persecution and this is supported in several other scriptures. He goes to the extreme of telling us to rejoice and be glad when others revile us and persecute us and utter all kinds of evil against us falsely on his account.

If you are actively shining your light on the world, persecution is sure to follow.

If you aren’t being persecuted on Yashua’s behalf. Maybe you should ask yourself, why not?


I am Beautiful

Can you look in the mirror and say that you are beautiful?


I was re-reading my post here and felt the need to elaborate and clarify. I am at a point now where I know that I feel beautiful. I have no idea if anything has changed so that others perceive me this way, but something has changed within me. I can appreciate how beautiful I am from the tips of my fuzzy toes to every single hair that likes to frizz after being brushed- I am dazzling.


I smile when I catch my reflection in the mirror, because I like what I see. I love the fire that flickers in my eyes and the joy that twitches at my lips. When I gaze into the mirror I am not distracted by “flaws”, but empowered by the determination that cloaks my being.


I used to not be able to walk by a window front without looking in disgust at a blemish or a dreaded pimple that dared to rear its hideous head. I used to be petrified if I walked into the bathroom after being with company and realizing that my hair was a disheveled heap that had slowly escaped the binds of the elastic band that promised a prim and proper bun. I used to see ugly in myself every single time I looked, because I felt miserable and wretched at my core.


But I didn’t have to stay there! Yahweh showed me a light, a light that had always been there that I was too preoccupied to see; and in that light was a warming glow of love that can heal every wound you have ever suffered- and I started to heal.


I am still healing, but the thing is: I am in love with the healing. I don’t need the end result right now, I am so enamored by the shear adventure the journey to get there has to offer. Each day offers a new piece of the new me. Each day offers choices to embrace old broken habits or make new ones to be proud of. And even if I stumble and fall and scrap my knee and break my nose, I know that my Father will be standing there patiently and with love offering His hand to help me back up.


I refuse to give up or go back. I don’t care how many times I fall down, I will get back up and continue on this wonderful path I  never imagined having the pleasure to walk. Because I can see the beauty in God’s creations, I can see the beauty He put into making me.


I know that I am beautiful, because I was made in His likeness and Yahweh is the most beautiful thing to behold, even if all you can see is the after glow of His love.

Being Sick

Being sick has to be one of the worst feelings. Your body revolts on itself in an attempt to self destruct. Now, I had a very healthy run and cannot remember being truly sick for several years. So, it was a complete and utter sucker punch when I became sick yesterday.

I had just completed a twelve hour shift in the emergency room and finally parked in my driveway at 7am. I wasn’t able to convince my body to sleep until 10am. At 2pm, I woke up crying in agonizing pain. My stomach felt like my kidneys, liver, and intestines were reenacting world war two. No matter how I tossed and turned I could not find a position that would alleviate the pain. It was the worse pain I had experienced since right before my last surgery when my stomach was literally folding on top of itself.

So, I called my best friend and asked for her to pray with me. I convinced myself that the pain I would feel getting up for Tylenol would pay off (which I later learned was a lie), and swallowed two extra strength tablets. I promptly crawled back into bed and tossed and turned for another hour. There was someone at my door and I had to find to will power to crawl out of bed.

It was my best friend with a care package of Gatorade, Powerade, chicken soup (homemade), rice, crackers, and a baggie of Tylenol and IBProfein. I hugged her, thanked her, cried, and walked her back out to the door.

Pouring myself a glass of Gatorade, the yummy fruit punch one, I crawled back into bed and snuggled into the blankets. The next twenty three hours were spent in agony. Praying, quoting scripture, and singing myself my favorite Hebrew lullaby, were the only things that kept me from a complete and total breakdown.

It took several moments of convincing and self preparation in order to simply turn on my side and bring the cup of Gatorade to my lips. The trips to the bathroom felt as though they would kill me and the only thing that forced me out of bed was the knowledge that simply going in the bed was not an option.

Somewhere a little after midnight on a trip to the bathroom, I checked my temperature: it was 101.4. I rejoiced at that fact. I was elated to know that my body was fighting back and there was hope that I would burn the virus off.

Many hours were spent in desperation seeking a position that would alleviate the pain to my stomach, kidneys, sides, back, head, and to keep my body between freezing and boiling.

I came to complete consciousness around 12:40pm. The pain had subsided, and when I checked the fever had broken. I promptly ate two bowls of chicken soup with rice- it had been thirty hours since I had last eaten. As much as eating boosted my energy, I felt disgusting with the layers of dried sweat from maintaining a fever for most of the night.

After taking a shower and putting on clean clothes, I finally felt like a human again. I thanked my Papa for pulling me through it, for keeping me focused through it, and for the loving friend He had graced me with.

I came over to visit with my friend now that I was feeling better. I am still a little nauseas with a slight pang in my kidneys still and I don’t feel completely here (probably because I was baking my brain last night), but I am definitely a lot better and everything in manageable.

Looking back I think it is kind of good to experience real pain every once in a while. It has definitely renewed my compassion for my patients that come through the ER. But it also did something more than that, because even as I was moaning and wailing with tears streaming down my face, I could feel my Papa with me, holding my in His hand and whispering to me that everything was going to be okay and that I could pull through this and every time I started to struggle with a verse or my song He would whisper the right words in my ear.

It was an amazing feeling to know that even when no one else in the world was there with me, my Papa was there. That my God is great enough that He knows the second I get sick and He picks me up and carries me through it. I am so thankful and feel so entirely loved. So, I guess being sick doesn’t have to be so bad after all.

Creating a Proclimation

Here I am in a new year and wondering how I got here.

I am become more and more aware that I am an adult. That I have a job, bills, and that if I’m not looking out for myself, I am the only one to blame. It seems odd to finally have that feeling of: wow, this is what life is like; while at the same time still feeling just a bit like a kid. I have been struggling a growing through a few things.

I am learning that there is a lot to learn about my body. Over the past few months I have begun to change my diet to eat healthier foods and cut out the junk that I don’t really need. It came as a shock to me to find out that I had taken healthy eating too far and that I actually needed to eat more calories than I was taking in on a regular basis and that I needed even more since I have begun to exercise regularly.

See, my goal is not to lose weight in any of this. In fact, I am very happy with where I am at physically even though the actual number confuses me. My goal is to be able to keep up with the boys in the fire station and to be able to be at 100% throughout my entire twelve hour shift at the hospital. Right now, my endurance and strength just aren’t up to par. On top of all of that, I am still healing from previous injuries to my back, hip, and knee.

My plan of action included integrating yoga into my life on a regular basis. I have actually fallen in love with yoga, and if I haven’t done my yoga for the day I have a longing for it. I did a short session this morning and plan on completing another routine before bed.

The other part of my plan was starting some sort of high impact physical exercise. At first I was kickboxing and now I am doing Jillian Micheals 30-day shred. And if the pain I am feeling now is any indication, by the time I am done with the work out I should be much stronger.

Despite all of this: the eating healthy, exercising, and taking care of me: I still feel…lacking? I’m not sure what the proper word choice should be. I know that I will dress up really nice and proclaim that I am beautiful, because if I’m not the one saying it then no one else will. It kind of wears on you when no one takes a moment to point out that they think you are beautiful, that you were fearfully and wonderfully made. Instead of doing what some of my friends do and say that I am ugly fishing for a compliment; I will walk into the room with a smile, do a little runway strut, spin 360, and compliment myself.  Sometimes I think it annoys my friends, but I have to keep proclaiming that I am truly beautiful if I am going to make myself believe it.

In the bottom of my heart I know that Papa thinks I am so incredibly beautiful and that He believes I am gorgeous even on my very worst day. But, for me to actually truly believe after so many people telling me that I am not is an uphill battle every day and it is only through the strength YHVH gives me that I am able to look in the mirror and be proud of who I see.

On that note, however, I have let my relationship with my Papa slide. Perhaps that is way the little battles day to day are becoming harder for me. I pray every day, but I have made it routine. Something I do out of habit rather than an intimate relationship with my counterpart. I had myself convinced that reading a chapter of my bible every now and then was sufficient because I was busy.

I am standing up to myself now to say “NO!” that is not okay. How dare I proclaim to people that I am a Son of YHVH and believe in His word as the absolute truth when I haven’t read every book there is, let alone every word.

I am going to start from the beginning and read through. I will share questions and experiences with you as I do. I’ll share everything I can. Through reading I will also refocus myself.

I will rekindle the fire that burns within me that is so in love with YHVH. I will have an even more intimate relationship with my Papa than I have ever had before. I will be a Son approved and an Isha to be cherished. I will be the bride ready and waiting for Yashua’s return.

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