Hearing the Little Things

I love to listen to keys typing away at the computer. Silent hum of hard work.

I love to listen to the whir of bike wheels as they speed down a hill. Quick getaway from life.

I love to listen to the strums of a guitar in the background. Mother’s thankful worship.

I love to listen to the laughter of my siblings. Children’s delight.

I love to listen to prayers ushering fourth from my Father’s children. Hearts desire.

Life comes and goes far to quickly. Often times we ignore the little things by filling our life with to much. To much, to busy for the simple things. Simple things like closing our eyes, just for a second, and listening. And so I give you a dare. I dare you to close your eyes and listen. Listen for the things you love. Thank God for the sounds of simple joys.

In Christ Alone ~ EleyanaFaith

 

 

 

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Deserving? . . . Of What?

     Weapons have been made to destroy me. Pride, Arrogance, Hatred, Jealousy, Self-pity . . . sound familiar? Some more than others. Pride is a big one for me . . . Huge in fact. There is something in me that feels like I deserve praise and glory, adoration, love, kindness, friendship. But in reality I deserve nothing. I am nothing. I am scum. I am a worm. I am the dirt the worm eats. Half of my mind circulates this constantly through my head. A constant revolving that keeps me humble. But there is yet another side of my brain. The side that says . . . “You are a great writer, you deserve praise. You are an amazing artist, you deserve glory. You are far better at acting, you deserve adoration. You are a fantastic girl, you deserve love. You are a special person, you deserve kindness. You are the best of friends, you deserve friendship.” And it lingers in my head a lure of the enemy. “They don’t deserve it you do . . . you do.” And I scream, “Get behind me Satan for I am the Lords. I belong to Emmanuel.”

   After that I sing. I open my mouth and give to the one who deserves it, truly deserves it. I give God the glory, adoration, and praise. And in return He gives me something that I don’t deserve . . . Mercy. But He doesn’t stop there . . . Oh no, He doesn’t stop there. I am heaped with love, kindness, peace, holiness, friendship, forgiveness . . . me the scum of the earth? And he whispers, “You-are-worthy . . . for-one-thing-only . . . ME.” And I fall on my knees and cry out,”Woe to me. For I am a girl of unclean lips.” And I weep, I weep. Falling before the feet of Christ. And He, Holy of Holys, wraps is arms around me. He brings me close to Himself. He rocks back and forth and repeats over and over and over again in my ear, what I do not deserve. “I love you,” and he continues, “You belong to me. You were a sinner, but I made you clean because I love you.” He loves me? He loves me? And I pick a flower and pluck the first petal,”He loves me?” and the next is harder to pull because I choke on the words. “He loves me more.” And I laugh. The next one comes loose. “He loves me most of all,” and my tears begin to dry for he wiped them. Wiped them clean. Laughter has filled the air because my heart is filled with joy. And I shout these words to the ends of the earth . . . “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty. To Him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb, be praise and glory and power and honor forever and ever. Forever.

In Christ Alone ~EleyanaFaith

In Christ Alone

It’s my favorite song . . . “In Christ Alone.” It always has been, ever sense the very first time my ears tuned into the melody. I would find myself on YouTube searching for Chris Tomlin, Owl City, or some random singer who had picked up the sheet and read the chords. Soon I had it memorized, but when your obsessed with something it gets old. That’s what happened with me. I still loved the song, but the meaning had disappeared. Then I woke up one day and I listened to it, for real. The first time in a while when I just listened and found myself asking questions. Was what I was singing true? Did I really believe it . . . with my heart?

I have the privilege to be called a child of God. Lately, though, I’ve seemed to lose sight of my king. I know He is there, that’s not the problem . . . I am. I’ve been warned about this. When my faith transitions. No longer will I live under the faith of my parents. That is where the young me took refuge. They told me and I believed. I didn’t have a reason not to. I’ve matured now. I need to seek truth for myself. I’ll dig for truth to find my own faith, I’ll grow a mustard seed. It will be hard to find the facts. Even harder will be the ability to keep a strong relationship with my savior. That has already began to falter. Then there is the factor of the enemy. He is aware of my unsteady standing and he will do all in his power to lead me away from Christ. Every moment will be in a battle against him and my doubt. (I guess I’m kind of hesitant to call it that. Doubt. I’m not sure if that is what it is, for the moment though, I will call it that.) Together they will be hard to defeat. I know, though, that God will always be there to help guide me in paths of righteousness (Psalms 23:3). I know that He will never leave me nor forsake me (Deuteronomy 31:6). I’ll just have to remember to ask Him. And when I do, the words in the song become truth “No power of Hell, no scheme of man, can every pluck me from his hand.”

As I continue my journey, when “Growing a Mustard Seed” is becoming me, I hope that I will be in the arms of my Lord. I hope that when I sing “In Christ Alone” I will sing the words straight from my heart. Every meaning of every phrase will be truth to me. And I pray that every song that comes through my mouth will follow the same pattern, that I won’t worship with my lips and not my heart (Isaiah 29:13). But I don’t want my praise to stop there. I want to glorify him in everything that I do (1 Corinthians 10:31). I want every move I make, every word I speak, to be a testimony of God’s truth. I want people to look at me and I want them to know that I am who I am . . . In Christ Alone.

In Christ Alone ~Eleyana

What Heights of Love. What Depths of Peace . . . Hands over the depths of sea.

Mustard Seed’s of Faith

It is stunning, at least to me, to believe that we don’t even have faith as small as a mustard seed. And if we did . . . can you imagine how many amazing things we could do to bring glory to God. Yes, If anything we lack it’s faith. I used to pray, sitting on my bed, that God would give me faith. Then He spoke . . . to me! He told me that I already had faith, for wasn’t I praying to Him? Of course . . . why had I been so stupid. But if my faith isn’t so big as a mustard seed how big is it? A grain of salt. “You are the salt of the world. But if the salt loses its saltiness how can it be made salty again?”(Matthew 5:13). Is this a revelation? It makes sense. If we had grains of salt then we are the grains of salt. But that doesn’t satisfy me. I want more. I hunger for more my throat is thirsty. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteous; for they will be filled,” (Matthew 5:6). It is a promise. I hunger so I will feed myself through reading and worship. I thirst so I will drink in prayer. And little by little my faith will grow. It will grow and maybe, just maybe, it might become a mustard seed. And then with all will to my heavenly father, I will be unstoppable in Him.

   “As small as a mustard seed . . . “