Confessions: Journal me Fleshy

A quick change of pace then back to the LOT... actually, this is VERY much the LOT...so, please, keep reading because to be honest if you are curious what MY heart looks like from day to day, you're about to find out.

I woke up this past Sunday morning feeling...FLESHY. You know, that moment when you want to say everything on your mind with no repercussions. I knew exactly what I WAS NOT to do and exactly what I WAS, but I DIDN'T want to do it.  God was telling me to sit tight. Be silent. NOT do a thing. But in my flesh, I wanted to act. I wanted to step in and speak my mind. The last think I wanted to do was wait. I'd pray about it and then talk out loud to myself. Truth is, I wrestled. WWF Flesh vs Spirit kind of wrestled. The more I wrestled, the more FLESH led I became and the more flesh that appeared, the further I drifted from Truth. The further I drifted from Christ.

"I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate...sin dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out." 

Romans 7:15-18

I was standing in the bathroom when I felt the Spirit tell me to hit the floor. I don't mean pound the floor with my fist. I mean, nose to floor, laid out silence. Minutes ticked on the clock. Church was getting closer and my flesh was still winning. I had justified every one of my thoughts, forcing myself to believe my way was right. However, as much as I wanted to flesh step, I couldn't because I knew it was wrong. The guilt over my flesh felt worse than the flesh itself. I was to wait. I was to watch. I was to see the power of God break and work in hearts. I was not to enter but to remain still. My stomach sickened at my desire for flesh just minutes before. Guilt formed until I felt I was wrong to even approach God. I went back to the days of feeling unworthy, not welcomed in His presence. I went back to LIES. Lies that formed themselves as truth. Wolves in sheepskin. I could hear the clock ticking away my flesh. Time in His presence. Ticking away the lies. Healing words spoken over my soul.

"Therefore, brothers [Makaela], since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us [Makaela] draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us [Makaela] hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, 

for he who promised is faithful." 

Hebrews 10:19-23

How quickly the flesh drowns truth. Pulls away from light. Light cannot mask itself. Light is True within. Light is Truth within. Christ is Light.

Identify the Lie: Too much evil. Too much flesh. Unworthy. Unwelcome. I cannot approach.

Claim the Truth: Draw near.  I have been claimed, cleansed with Truth, and forgiven. 

To believe the lie is to keep from His presence. To keep from Truth. Wolves devour. Defeat the deceived. The lie bears oppression, guilt, and shame. The lie is NOT Christ. Is not growth. Is not Truth. Identify the lie. Kill the lie.

Confidence is mine. As His children, confidence is ours. Confidently approach no matter the weight of guilt. Walk in TRUTH. Walk in Christ. For He who shed His blood, slew sins curse. Cleared your path. Cleansed your heart. Washed you pure. HOLD STEADY. HOLD TO HOPE. WAIVER NOT from Truth. He who promised is faithful. 

When a Girl Meets Truth

It's VIDEO time!

God is teaching me so much about my heart that at times I can't stand how it looks. Even tonight. However, God has good news for us. Through Him, nothing can keep us bound to the chains that restrict life and freedom. 

CLICK THE LINK BELOW!!!!!

http://vimeo.com/35080193

1 Peter 1:9 says, "He has called us to a holy life. Not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace through Christ Jesus. This grace was given to us from the beginning of time."

A Holy Life means ridding anything that separates you from God. From evil, to deceit, to slander, to rage, to unforgiveness, to immorality, to foolish talk. Walking in obedience to this call means being willing to be sanctified. Think of open heart surgery. You are on the operating table and God is surgeon. Are you willing to let God look at every faucet of your heart, mind and soul? Even further...are you willing to let him work?

A Holy Life is not easy. Sanctification is not easy. But in the end...beautiful.

The Least of These-Part 3

Activities. Treasure. Family. Christmas. Winter's gift wrapped at our door. Reflections of God's love. A tiny babe. A sin-crazed world. A woman whose future unknown, but a future confirmed. An invitation from God himself. A love that saved her soul. A husband who believed. An offering of grace to the dying human race. Gentle drifts of peace. Barren souls that cease. Love closer than a breath stirs the soul and everyone that hears, craves to be whole.

His birth is why I live. Why I have freedom. Why I have peace. Why I know who I am...How do I know? How does anyone know? When the mirror shatters, you finally see...

Dressed in rags, I showed up to the shelter to take Jessica to the grocery store. It was a day like any other except I was comfortable staying home and being lazy. A lazy heart is not a Kingdom heart. I hate to admit it, but I wasn't very Kingdom minded that day. I was led by duty and duty does nothing to please the Lord.

She was waiting on the curb when I arrived. I reached over and pulled the handle letting her in. Jessica had just returned from the Meth clinic. As a result, her speech was slurred, eyes half shut, and most of her sentences held little meaning. It took 60 seconds to cross from poverty to prestige. One house stood condemned and next to it stood a mansion. Silent sidewalks. Invisible lines...

We neared the local Starbucks and Jessica perked up. She begged for the detour so we pulled in. As soon as the door opened, the stench of self-righteousness filled the air. I may have been wearing the heaviest of its perfume. Every eye was upon us and every eye had cast judgment. I cast judgement. I became embarrassed of her behavior, her words, her dress that I forgot my own dress.  Five minutes she poured sugar crystals, now coating her undrinkable latte. I had made my excuse for her, but the barista had grace waiting on the counter. Jessica graciously took her new drink and we walked out. Her proud. Me ashamed. Having a heart that serves didn't make me righteous and my emotions only made me human.

Nonetheless, I wanted to go home. I was selfish. I was prideful. I didn't want to be her. And then she said it..."Taste my drink." Me, "No. I have my own. I'm sure yours is fine." "Try it. It doesn't taste right. See?" Me, "No." This time she meant her words, "TRY MY DRINK." It was a moment of rejection. So, I drank and as I drank she announced..."I got tested for AIDS this week."

Silence. I could feel my throat swelling by the second.

And then...if verbal rejection wasn't enough...I spit her drink on my window.

"It came back negative. That's one good thing, right?" Me, "Wonderful!" I had a double meaning. I was scared. I knew AIDS could not be passed through saliva, but I couldn't help but wonder what other disease she carried. I looked at her as a stray dog and I questioned every reason I was in that home. Why God had me there. Why my husband insisted I lead a Bible study.

We drove around the corner to the grocery store. The stares worsened. My heart worsened. All I wanted was Scope or soap, anything that would rid the distaste of my mouth and heart. Jessica became loud with the customers and employees. At one point in the check out line, one woman looked ME up and down. She judged me. She labeled me. She did NOT like me. I made her sick. I made myself sick. My eyes said "Stop it!" My heart screamed, "I am NOT HER! I am NOT her! I AM NOT HER!" Could she see my heart? How I had become?

I had a few minutes by myself as Jessica ran in for something she forgot. I cried. I screamed. I called my husband. I texted a friend for prayer. Prayer...Prayer to protect MY body. I should have asked for a heart surgeon.

"The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?"

Jeremiah 17:9

That's when my life began to change. I looked like Jessica that day. My ripped jeans, torn sweatshirt, dirty feet...on the outside, in that neighborhood, I was her equal. On the inside...The VERY LEAST, desperate for Truth to invade a very mislead heart. Who was I to place myself above her? I KNEW better! Jessica knew no Truth.

I built a healthy life. Worked to make it good. Desired to "DO good." But I forgot my deepest need. His fulfillment.

The heart unites us. Makes us the same. That's why He came...to save the lost. Bind the broken-hearted. Heal the heart. Fulfill the law, fulfill the need. To give new life. Life in Him. Peace in Him. Joy in Him. He came for the least. We are least.

I believed I knew His Image. I only knew my own. And then I saw it. I saw the mirror. My mirror, shattering into a million pieces. Every lie disguised as truth fell broken to the ground. My image laid scattered at the cross. An empty mirror. Fragments now reflecting the heavens. His image seen, not my darkness. Heavenly light that breaks through cracks, destroys darkness, and offers grace. My identity claimed. Grace humbly received. An invitation accepted. This woman made whole. A future confirmed. His love that saved my soul.

"You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness." 

Ephesians 4:22-24

The Least of These-Part 2

When the mirror shatters, you finally see who you are...

I thought I knew who I was. Simple. Secure. Quiet. Strong. Steady. But when the pieces were scattered on the floor so was my identity.

I knew what I wanted out of life and I thought I had done a pretty good job attaining those dreams. I'd like to think that I have been pretty grounded in life itself. Living large has never really appealed to me. Money was never an issue, I just wanted to be stable. (My teacher's salary was proof at the end of 5 years. Not sure I ever exceed 20k and there was never a pressing need to drive the nicest car, wear or carry designer clothes or handbags. I was secure in the comforts of what I had and what I had/have is pretty good. That's not to say that I don't like to shop or lack a love of shoes and handbags. Believe me, this gal loves to shop!... I just don't crave the love of this world.

In my mirror, held by my own glue, stood a confident woman, who went to this home to share God's good Word with a hurting world...so I thought.

When I looked into Jessica's eyes I couldn't help but see a version of myself. The version I could potentially become. She was a junkie, attending a Methadone clinic daily to wean her off her addiction to Oxy. I felt bad for her. I saw her need and internally gave thanks for not being her. Terrible isn't it? That I would automatically think this? But, I did. I stood in that cold room less than a foot away from her, so close to the touch. I was intrigued by her, but my pride put us miles apart. I began to question my purpose in this home. In that moment, however, God extended a bridge. "Hold her," Jessica said. Reaching out, she place her the child in my arms. She wore a smile that proudly announced her name. "Cadence." My heart immediately locked into this child. "Cadence," I echoed. A pause before the end of a strain. The point of rest. God knew I needed Cadence. The pause at which life abruptly stops and the mirror shatters.

Several months passed when I received an unexpected call from the Director of the home. "Makaela, I need you to come over...it's Jessica."

The winter's chill greeted me at the door. My hands trembling, but not at its will. As I approached, I saw Gloria. Her dark, blank stare matched her stammering words. "She's upstairs." It wasn't ten seconds before I was running through her door. "Jessica!" I screamed. Her body was unresponsive. Breathing, yes, but no life in her eyes. Below her limp body, a bed intended for rest. A physical reminder of our peace in Christ. Our Comforter. Our shelter.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28

She was a zombi. Her lifeless hands laid cold. Reaching for her chin, I quietly whispered her name again. How desperately we needed God. "Intercede, Abba!" my soul cried. "Jessica, look at my eyes." 

Silence. Darkness. Oppression. Fear. 

Her lips moved. Eyes drifted towards mine. She clumsily spoke my name. And then...that beautiful smile. "Praise you, Father!" I breathed a sigh of relief. "That you would see us here in this moment. Surrounded by horror." Minutes passed when she finally came around. Cadence had woke from her nap. Crying for milk, Jessica grabbed a spoiled bottle and put it in the baby's mouth. "I'll fix her a new one," I offered. "Show me where you keep the formula." Her nervous laugh spoke a thousand words as she fumbled for anything that looked new. 

I couldn't help but think of all the spoiled milk I drank over the years. Feeding on lies. Living on words that destroyed my soul. I, like Eve, learned to cover my sin, deceiving my own heart of the nourishment I so desperately needed-The Bread of Life. John 6

"...The serpent deceived me and I ate." Genesis 3:13

Like Cadence, like me, she too needed to be fed. Making our home on the aged floor, I turned to the Gospels. We talked about God seeing us and knowing our needs. Rescuing us. Wanting to be the lover of our hearts. Her coherence was limited. Her mind would engage for only a minutes time. In mid-sentence, she would slip away and her mind was gone. Hugging my knees during those barren moments, utterances of Truth flowed from my lips. "You love her. You see her. You know her...You love me. You see me. You know me." She wanted the Word. She wanted REST, but rest was stolen.

"A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop-a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. Whoever has ears, let them hear." Matthew 13:3-9

I wish I could say the seed fell on good soil. I left that day with a hole in my heart. I left with a burden for her to feed and be satisfied with the Bread of Life.

I left that day with a burden that I, too, would feed and be satisfied with his life. Sitting on the floor that day confirmed the wrestling in my heart. I am here because of Him, and HE is here for ME.

"Then Jesus declared, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty." John 6:35

The Least of These-Part 1

The Least of These...

When two worlds collide, it is hard not to get lost. Lost in who you are, who you were, who you will become. When two worlds collide, the mirror shatters and you see...you finally see...

Who you are, what you are made of, what you lack, what you long for, what you pray will change.

The mirror began to crack when I saw her. Her long blonde hair framing the frailty of her face. She looked up. Her blue eyes meeting mine. She captivated me. As if trying to prove herself, she greeted me with a gentle kiss. She didn't need to kiss my cheek to make me like her. I already did and I didn't even know her name. Fragments of her home were nestled in the grass beneath our feet. Grabbing my hand, she pulled me forward. My feet meeting hers. Sifting through the rummage, she drew out a beautiful dress. "What do you think?" she asked, twirling around in her make believe bedroom. I could see her, once young, serenaded by the graceful piano. "It's beautiful," I quietly replied. But it wasn't. It was too big. Her frame too small. She had no business wearing it. It was made for someone much larger than her. Not to mention, it was filthy. The dust of the earth covered it's once beautiful lace. But she didn't care. "It's perfect," she proudly said as she giggled running past me. 

I liked her and still...no name.

I hadn't taken notice at first, but the minute I stepped into the home, I saw. Who was this girl? Her grace and beauty intrigued me. "Come upstairs!" echoed through the long stairwell.  Catching the heels of her feet with my eye, I couldn't help but wonder, "Have I taken these steps before?"  With each creak in that wooden home, my curiosity grew. I knew the answer to my own question. Those familiar steps were seen years before except the steps were laced in blades of grass. And the woman, her name was Andrea. Her home, a city park. 

I crested the last step. Confused, I called out, "Hello?" "In here!" she said. My feet led the way. The narrow hall took me past several rooms, each claimed by lives who had no place to lay their heads. Pictures lined the walls of family members once loved. Words lined the rooms offering hope for the weary. The beating of my heart played the melody as I walked closer to her voice. I had no idea the connection God had waiting for me. 

"Welcome to my room. It's not much, but for now it's home." 

I couldn't help but stare. A single mattress and two dressers encased the room.  In the corner stood a lone crib. Pacifiers. Diapers. "Oh!" she whispered. "This is my baby. Isn't she beautiful?" 

"Who are you?" I blurted out. So much for being discrete.  She paused. "I'm Jessica." I was lost in that very moment. That moment was when I knew...

I am here for her, but maybe...maybe I am here because God is here for me.......

Update on Ethan

by Jamie Chitwood


It has been so nice to have two weeks off, especially for Ethan. I am sure he has truly enjoyed just being a normal 4 year old! During this time both boys have celebrated their birthdays- Connor turned 2 and Ethan turned 4. We had a little pirate party for them in Connecticut. As a special gift, they received a big ol' Noreaster :) We lost our power and a few trees, but we were blessed- we were able to leave early and head down to Virginia for a little warmth and hot showers, as well as much needed time to visit the Southern side of our family! They were so great to us and even threw the boys another birthday party. While we were down there, we were able to visit our old home church. It was so, so good to see all of our old friends and hear a great sermon. It's so very interesting...our pastor spoke at one point about how God talks to us, and one guy specifically mentioned that God had spoken so clearly to him through the pastor that he felt the pastor was speaking directly to him...Ben and I left that night feeling like God was speaking directly to us. 


Ethan's MRI is coming up this Monday morning at 7:30. We are asking that everyone please pray for a GREAT report. Going back to the sermon from while visiting Virginia, both Ben and I know that God can choose to answer our prayers for Ethan any way He so wants- halting the tumor for the time being, allowing it to grow, or completely erradicating it. While I am praying mightily for Ethan to be healed (and I DO believe he will be), I have faith that God's answer to this on-going prayer of ours will be the BEST, no matter the outcome. If nothing else, throughout this crazy journey we are on, I have come to truly ache for those who do not KNOW Jesus as their Savior. All I know is that the nights when I have been so overcome by grief, Jesus has been right there beside me, holding me, and helping me to just make it to the next moment. When I have bubbled over with laughter at the beautiful antics of my sweet boys, He has been right there smiling and laughing with me. Regardless of how much life sucks right now (and at moments it does), I do NOT doubt that Jesus is holding my hand leading me along this path. He has not left me and has promised He never will. I am so thankful to have His strength for both Ben and myself, as well as for our boys. Every night we pray with the boys that God would help them, that He would grow them strong, that He would heal Ethan, and even more importantly, that both boys would come to know and love Jesus. I pray the same for each of you. I pray that you would never find yourself in the same situation we are in, but wherever God leads you I pray that you will rely on Him to hold onto you and carry you through.


Again, Ben and I would like to thank all of you for your continued prayers. It means so much to us and I truly believe God has heard every prayer and is answering mightily!

The Least is NOT always what it seems.

I am now VIDEO BLOGGING! Such an exciting adventure. 

Bear with me this week as I am trying my best to post a Video Blog. It is something new that I have fallen in love with. Well, not so new to the internet/blogging world, but new to me.The only problem is I cannot seem to get blogger to load it, and it is too long for YouTube. I was able to load it on Vimeo here. 

http://vimeo.com/31413216  

Definition of LEAST

superlative of little
1: lowest in importance or position
2: a : smallest in size or degree
    b : being a member of a kind distinguished by diminutive size 
    c : smallest possible : slightest

The Least is not always what it seems.

THIS IS THE BEST WAY TO WATCH until I can get the video directly on my blog. It'd be so much easier to have it posted on here, but for now PLEASE click the link and watch. I really am enjoying this "vlogging" stuff.  I'm learning and hopefully the more I chat, the more I'll learn to condense my thoughts. 

Love you all!