Finding Love Part 1

Love, we all look for it and seek to define it. I want to know how my Papa defines it. What is love according to YHVH.

According to Interlinear Scripture Analyzer, the word love appears three hundred and eleven times in two hundred and eighty one verses. It first appears in Genesis 27:4 when Issac is talking about meat. Now if Issac was the first person to have a documented account of using the word love, that would imply that neither Adam and Abraham used the word. While that is much easier to believe with Adam, since he so easily turned on his Isha; I needed to go back to be sure.

The closest thing to love Adam showed Chavah was in Genesis 2:23 when he says “This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Isha because she was taken out of Ish. For this reason man shall leave his father and mother, and be joined to his wife; and they will become one flesh (echad).”

Now, for some reason ready this piece of history and then how he so easily turns saying “the woman whom you gave to be with me.” He never appeared to truly treasure her. Here YHVH fashioned an Isha, the perfect help mate, something so precious and Adam didn’t cherish her. It kind of upsets me, but at the same time it makes me step back and wonder what YHVH has done for me that I haven’t cherished or taken as precious like I should.

Reading through Abraham and Sarah’s story again I was struck by a hard thought. When they enter Egypt Abram asks Sari to say that she is he sister, because he knows that they will see that she is beautiful and want to take her for themselves. She trusts in Abram so much that she agrees to say that she is his sister knowing that it would place her in a potential “danger”. Even when she is taken to the Pharaoh’s courts, she continues to trust in Abram’s judgment.

I honestly don’t think that at the point I am at in my life I would be able to obey my Ish so completely without question and have such unwavering trust in him. I know this, because there is a piece of me that still struggles to trust in Yashua and He has never changed. So, if I have difficulty trusting someone that is the embodiment of trustworthy, how can I trust someone who I know will be tested? So, if I can admit to myself that I don’t yet contain the capability to follow my Ish when he asks me to trust him, why in the world would I expect Papa to bring him into my life.

I can see piece by piece how much more I must focus and work on myself if I want to be anything more than a burden to the one that I was made for. I know that I have the ability to trust inside of me, that I will heal that I am a new creation and that all things are possible through Him who strengthens me. But, just because I know it intellectually does not force the change to happen instantly. Through prayer and perseverance though, I shall become the beacon of light I am made to be.

For those that seek shall find and to those who knock it is opened and those who ask receive. So, I will ask, knock and seek until I am the person I know that I can be. Until I can stand unwavering next to my Ish, because I can trust in him, because I trust fully in Yashua and know that He will be guiding both of us.

 

I find it just a little funny that as I search for the answers to what love is I am uncovering who I am and realizing who I want to be. Papa, hear me now and hear my heart’s cry. I want to be perfected. I need to undergo the transformation that will bring me to the higher calling I know you have set aside for me. I am yours Papa. Where I ran before and sought my own way, I am ready to listen and follow you unwavering.

 

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.

Creating Self Improvement

I have come to a realization- I have been neglecting aspects of me. I end up so focused on one part of what makes up me that I forget about everything else. I can’t allow that to happen anymore. I need to grow as a whole, not just parts. I have decided the best way to do this is to set up goals for myself to achieve. Objectives that will keep me from becoming stagnate.

When water isn’t moving, the life inside it has trouble surviving. Life is the same way. There must be movement and growth in order for life to flourish. I want to flourish. I may be a simple little acorn, but I will become a mighty oak and nothing will stop me. I will stand tall and strong and be filled with life.

I am happy with who I am and where I am going. I am happy that I can see any weakness that dares to grab hold of me and make it strength to wield. I am happy that I am YHVH’s and that He is with me always. I am happy to be alive.

Yet…as I say this, there is something inside of me that is sad. Something that wants to scream and cry. I don’t know why. I’m not quite sure what it even is. I don’t know why it is there. I have a good life. I am loved by my Papa, what more could I possibly need? Why is there a part of me that hurts so badly? Why won’t it simply go away. I need for it to heal. I need to heal myself.

I will continue towards my goals and won’t let anything stop me. I will continue to improve myself and in doing so I will heal any hurt that may linger in my being. I will be the mighty oak. I will be a Son of YHVH. I will be strong. I will be whole. I refuse to allow any part of me to remain in pain, I will expose all weaknesses, all injuries, all the broken little pieces of me and my Papa, the almighty YHVH, will make me whole.

I am a vessel created by my Papa’s hands. And as it is said of great pottery, it must go through a strengthening process. It must be put through a kiln at severe heat for it to come out stronger. I will endure the kiln and become an even stronger vessel. I will not allow myself to wallow in any negativity. I will smile brightly at the prospect of becoming a stronger and stronger vessel for my Papa. I will never be crushed, I will never be destroyed, and no crack shall ever penetrate me. I will stand tall and resolute.

I will serve my Papa and smile brightly on the future.