Author: Jana

Faith to Faith

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How do we get more faith?  It might be easier than you think and yet much more costly. Before you check this box, listen to my story.

 

 

I sat across the table from a prophet the other day. We came to celebrate a mutual friend who had told me about her crazy friend who was really prophetic.  However,  once he opened his mouth and began sharing God stories, I saw the stark difference between having a gift and having a mantle.

The prophetic gifting is the ability, granted by the Holy Spirit, to know or see a thing, and to declare a thing that will happen in the future. Think of God sending people postcards from far-off places. Only instead of saying, “I wish you were here,”  He sends them pictures, words, insights of places or things and says “You will be here.” 

Whew. That’s wild. It’s a lot to take in. And it is 100% biblical.

We all have the ability to be prophetic if we have the Holy Spirit. Even our kids! They have 100% of the Holy Spirit. Not some kind of  Junior Holy Spirit,  like a Whopper Jr. 

But, this guy at dinner, instead of just being prophetic, was a prophet. Meaning God would tell him things to tell other people. Good and seemingly bad things.  Even the bad things turned out to be blessings because God was always working for the hearts and the success of the people targeted by the messages. 

I noticed a couple of things as I soaked in every story he told.

1) God is alive and well and moving mightily all the time for those who will a) stop and ask Him and b) do what He says.

2) God doesn’t blink an eye at making humans uncomfortable in order to lead them to wholeness and outrageous faith. Whether it is the prophet speaking or the receiver of God’s message, God happily shatters our comfort zones.

3) God is supremely patient with stubborn and disobedient children who don’t listen, until He isn’t. He offers counsel and wisdom and then He practices holy tough love as we temporarily suffer from our self-made consequences.

4) We have permission to grab hold of every God story we hear for ourselves. I literally kept praying as the prophet spoke, “Lord I would like that too please.”  It’s part of the prophet’s reward.

5) God stories (or faith stories) beget other God stories. As the prophet shared stories, my mind filled with my own stories. I shared a couple of my own, and you could see both of us reveling in the power and mystery of this Beautiful God. 

There is a right standing with God. The bedrock of that right standing is faith. 

Do you need an extra dose of faith? Recall what He has done for you. Act forward on what He has said is coming. And. And. Share your God stories and listen to others. That will fill up your tank in no time.

For the righteousness of God is revealed in it from faith to faith, just as it is written, “But the one who is righteous by faith will live.” Romans 1:17 

Open the Flow

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I may be late to the party but I have lived my whole life without an irrigation system for my yard. I have lived in lots of places in lots of houses, but none of them required a dedicated irrigation system. A move to sunny Florida changed all that. 

You can imagine my surprise when I was sitting outside one pre-dawn morning drinking coffee and water started spraying in all directions in my yard. I quickly transitioned back inside to keep from getting watered myself. 

Turns out, in Florida, either I water all the time or an irrigation system does. Fortunately, the house we purchased came with one installed. 

Fast forward a couple of months, and our irrigation pump died due to a three-day Florida freeze over. We had it replaced, however, over time we noticed plants beginning to wither and trees losing their color. Some areas of the yard were greening up well with new spring life, others were not. We all attributed the decline to the winter hit. 

Then one morning, the pump woke me up whining. The few sprinkler heads that were still working only gurgled out water instead of reaching out the typical 6-foot spray. Chuck turned the pump off. We promptly went on the hunt for an irrigation doctor and readied ourselves for another new pump purchase, or worse a whole new system.

But the surprise of surprises, the irrigation doctor showed up, looked everything over, and told us our pump was fine. The problem was instead an 8-inch section of above-ground piping leading from the well to the pump. 

Say what?? Eight inches of plastic pipe had shut down my whole irrigation system? Yes. 

The well water was fine, clean, and ready to be dispersed.
The pump was new and had the appropriate size and strength for the task. 

But somewhere, someone had installed a half-inch smaller pipe between the two. That simple constriction of water flow forced a leak and stole the pressure needed to activate the pump and shoot the water out all over my thirsty yard.

I was standing there in my yard watching all of this play out and I just said out loud, “ I am listening Lord. I am listening. You have my full attention.”

The Well: Jesus said that we would have rivers of living water spring up within us. Just like the unseen well somewhere deep under my yard, we have all the water we need for all the living God has called us to. Some water is for creating beauty, some for giving to others, some just for Him, and some for our own sustenance.  He has enough water for it all. Do we trust that? 

The Pump: It pays to check the condition of our hearts. Like the pump, our heart has the power to distribute all the love to all the places God calls us to.  Proverbs make it clear that we are to “above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life” (Proverbs 4:23).  

Here is a bonus about that pump and our hearts. It works best under pressure. 

In fact, the right kind of pressure produces life far beyond ourselves. So don’t wish for a problem-free, pain-free life. Don’t try to create a life with no stress or strain, or you might find yourself whining in the wee hours from the lack of adequate water flow. You see,  the pressure is what draws the water from the well, through the pump and outward. 

Selah. 

Finally. That damn pipe. 

Before we bought this house, somebody tried to Make Do. Tried to ignore the facts.  As Brene Brown points out, perhaps they did the best they could, but fundamentally they did not understand the potential damage of closing off the flow of water. 

I hate to admit it, but this God lesson hit me right in the middle of a constricted flow moment in my own life. 

Jesus was quick to let me know I have a good heart. I have living water deep inside.  But I had allowed fear and doubt to make me small and constricted the flow of His living water. So then my heart could not function well under the right kind of pressure and areas in my life began gasping for a drink. 

The solution was a new right-sized pipe, or in my case, right-sized faith. 

So pay attention. How’s your water flow? How is the condition of those living within range of your water? How’s your heart? Is it fully functioning under pressure, or whining in the wee hours? 

Just in case you need a referral, Jesus is a great irrigation doctor too.

Strong Water

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There is an essence of a Woman —God-ordained actually. Even if you don’t believe in God, there is an unmistakable quality of a woman that goes far beyond body parts and hormones. 

A woman is a life-giver.  Hear me. Not just a baby maker. But a Life-Giver. 

For decades,  I have been on a deep dive into the heavenly Who of a woman. The world’s Who of a woman reduces us to breasts and bottoms. And frankly, the church’s answer of Who relegates us to the high (and only allowed) calling of motherhood. Both left cavernous gaps in my heart. 

Don’t get me wrong. I am undone by my children. Still love-wrecked by them today, though they are grown and flown. I prayed desperately to have them and have been completely overhauled as a human by being a parent. Nothing brings me to my knees faster than the threat of danger or harm to my babies. Likewise, when they laugh and soar, whether they are 20 months or 20 years, my heart sings a song that is worthy of angels. 

And yet. My own children gave me clues to this bigger Who of a woman. But they did not satisfy the God-sized holes and hunger in my soul. 

As I sought the Lord and tried to make sense of the tension, God began to reveal some beautiful secrets of His feminine masterpiece. 

It starts with the names. In Genesis alone, we see the names: female, help meet, woman, and mother. Goodness, we could have fun unpacking all of these. But for today, let’s look at Mother.

In ancient Hebrew, the letters are pictures. So each word is a collection of images that creates vast meaning. The two letters/pictures depicting the word “mother” is an ox and water. Ox signifies strength and water signifies life. Translated mother means strong water. 

 

Scholars say the expression strong water is attributed to the process of boiling the skin of an animal down until it makes a glue that is used for making tents. Lovely, yes? But hold on. Like its image, it is rife with meaning. 

A woman is uniquely equipped to connect people, hold relationships together, create strong emotional and spiritual attachments so that the family, tribe, or camp can weather the seasons of life. A woman is the glue of her home. Whether single or married, with child or without, she has been heavenly wired to carry this life-building and life-sustaining essence into her world. 

She carries this Holy Glue that brings hearts together, cements ideas or dreams, and provides foundational strength in various expressions.

When Adam named Eve, which happened after the fall, and before children, he called out the original Who that God created. Not just for the first woman, but for all of us, since she would be named the mother of all the living. 

We, women, are her daughters, all women are called Strong Water. We carry the life-giving glue of Heaven. 

Thank you, Lord, for revealing your beautiful heart through us. 

When Truth Turns Into a Tripwire

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We are living in tricksy days. People use phrases about “my truth,” or “what feels true to you.” And while I freely acknowledge that it comes from a heart of compassion, I still want to either vomit or hit a loud, warning buzzer. My truth? Your truth? What even…

Truth is to be discovered and revealed and sometimes even translated. But when we slap little words in front of it, like my or your, we immediately reduce truth down to a very small point of authority.

Psalm 8 speaks very highly of us as human beings. “A little lower than the angels,” worth the cost of the cross. But. And, this is a big But—we are truth-bearers. Not truth creators.

We follow a plumb line. Or we don’t.

Either way, that does not designate us as The Plumb Line.

We could reduce this conversation to political labels and insults. Which are futile.

We could scrutinize the motives and money behind our lack of resolve around the truth. Which are tiresome.

I would rather offer a perspective from heaven. Truth sets us free.

The Greek word for truth is reality. Jesus is calling us to His Reality. His Truth. He is the Holy Plumb Line. And it requires a shifting of our will, a surrendering of our lesser reality of bondage to step into the freedom of His Truth.

As a social structure, we humans are constantly looking for answers. But rarely looking for truth. We want answers that feed our fears or our appetites. We crave answers that rationalize our bat-shit-crazy choices. We want permission to do whatever we want. But this is not freedom.

We need a plumb line. Look at the chaos of our world. It is the “reality” of everyone doing what they want, what is right in their own eyes. And it’s killing us.

I love this from Pastor Laura Piraino about Zechariah 4:10.

“The purpose of the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hands was to keep the walls lined up correctly, to keep the work true. It was such a small thing, but without it, the walls of the temple would not have stood the test of time. Zerubbabel needed this small tool to correctly finish the work God had called him to do.”

As you and I embrace the work that God has called us to do in our homes, work, and the Kingdom, let us hold fast to His Plumb Line. He is the Truth. We need His Reality to keep our lives true and to build something that stands the test of time.

“When you continue to embrace all that I teach, you prove that you are my true followers. For if you embrace the truth, it will release true freedom into your lives.” 

John 8 TPT

Redeeming the Generations

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Chad, a dear friend and spiritual son, texted me some photos the other day. One prompted a mixed-emotion smile. When the second photo came through, I immediately began to cry.  The imagery too confronting, too powerful, and too tender.

He had been asked to make a cross for the Resurrection Sunday Celebration at New Wine Church. Chad explained how he had looked at his lumber options. He considered a beautiful piece of seasoned oak or a lovely piece of planed cedar. But the Lord directed him to a more humble offering. Here is the first photo:

This plank of wood is from my parent’s house and my childhood home. It was a shelf in my mother’s pantry that held all manner of kitchen goods. Mom was ever cooking wonderful meals for her family.  And, like every good Depression-surviving woman, she had to have ample supplies in her pantry.  “Just in case,” she would say.

Chad remarked about the shelf, “Under all the multiple layers of paint, dust, grease, and preservatives there was this beautiful slab of wood. It just took a little work to get there.” Selah.

This is sweet. Special, even. A symbol of my mother’s hard work and wisdom. However. Before it was a pantry, this small space was my bedroom. And before that, this small space housed both of my brothers in a narrow bunk.

In one moment, all kinds of memories blitzed my heart and head. Wonderful meals, cramped spaces, poverty as a child.

For reference, this is the room once the shelves were removed and the house was  “all dolled up” to put on the market.

My heart was in a blender already when Chad’s second photo came through.

I still can’t look at this picture without choking up. (Thanks, Chad.) The transformation is stunning. The metaphor is wrenching. It was the Cross that redeemed all that poverty, brokenness, and lack. God took my parent’s best efforts and worst frailties and shaped their offering into something beyond their wildest dreams.

It’s a prayer every parent can relate to. I can relate to.  Oh God, make us aware of our inheritance to our children, good or bad, and may the Cross transform it all.

God breaks very real generational curses, redeems relationships, and restores fortunes lost or squandered. But wait there is so very much more.

Look at where Chad placed the cross. All greater things are grown out of the cross.

Greater Things is literally grown out of God’s relentless love as well as the love of those who have raised us in the faith. It’s our joy and honor now to continue to multiply all that we have been given.

Don’t miss this.

All of us, and I mean ALL of us, are ALWAYS climbing on the root system of someone before us. Someone else sacrificed and persevered and believed to the point of tears.  Jesus himself believed to the point of blood.

The belief that God will bring beauty from our ashes, joy from our mourning, a double portion for our shame, and freedom from captivity is our unending anthem.  In a word, transformation.

One final kiss. On Resurrection Sunday, the families each brought a flower and adorned the cross. Not that we could ever add to God’s glory — but we celebrate the power and beauty of our Life-giving, Chain-breaking, Death-defying King Jesus.

His Blood Speaks a Better Word

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I have this beautiful Jasmine plant outside.  You can imagine my delight when the small white blossoms opened up and filled the air with a heavenly scent.

It has been a frequent topic in my God conversations lately. I thanked the Lord for creating such beautiful expressions in nature. I marveled at Springtime and how the earth just cannot keep itself from declaring new life, life from that which seems dead.

I even shook my head at how this insignificant Jasmine plant was quietly and unassumingly taking over the fence line. With stretched-out tendrils and runners, it spreads its little domain, if you will.

Seriously, we have been talking about the parallels between this little plant and the Kingdom of God— it’s fragrant, relentless, and advancing.

But after looking at it multiple times a day for many days, today when I looked, it caught my breath.

I walked over to it to see what this red leaf was, maybe it blew into the fence from last night’s storm. No. It was very much a part of this thriving creation.

In the moment, the Lord whispered, the Blood is always in the middle of the Beauty.

Selah.

Holy Week is a pathway. From the Lord’s Supper, to the garden, to the trial, to the outrageous brutality, to the cross, to the tomb.  Pause and reflect but don’t stop in any one of these places. Taste the wine, cry the tears, wince at the nails being driven in, feel the breath leave His body, and flinch as rock grinds on rock as they rolled the tomb closed with His body inside.

But don’t stop there.

Resurrection Sunday is the unspeakable joy as the Blood bursts into glorious song.

“He is not here! He has risen just as He said.”

The Blood is always in the middle of the Beauty. Celebrate the Beauty and remember the Blood.

And we have come to Jesus who established a new covenant
with his blood sprinkled upon the mercy seat;
blood that continues to speak from heaven, “forgiveness,”
a better message than Abel’s blood that cries from the earth, “justice.”
Hebrews 12:24 TPT

Redeeming the Generations

/ Jana / Leave a comment

Chad, a dear friend and spiritual son, texted me some photos the other day. One prompted a mixed-emotion smile. When the second photo came through, I immediately began to cry.  The imagery too confronting, too powerful, and too tender.

He had been asked to make a cross for the Resurrection Sunday Celebration at New Wine Church. Chad explained how he had looked at his lumber options. He considered a beautiful piece of seasoned oak or a lovely piece of planed cedar. But the Lord directed him to a more humble offering. Here is the first photo:

This plank of wood is from my parent’s house and my childhood home. It was a shelf in my mother’s pantry that held all manner of kitchen goods. Mom was ever cooking wonderful meals for her family.  And, like every good Depression-surviving woman, she had to have ample supplies in her pantry.  “Just in case,” she would say.

Chad remarked about the shelf, “Under all the multiple layers of paint, dust, grease, and preservatives there was this beautiful slab of wood. It just took a little work to get there.” Selah.

This is sweet. Special, even. A symbol of my mother’s hard work and wisdom. However. Before it was a pantry, this small space was my bedroom. And before that, this small space housed both of my brothers in a narrow bunk.

In one moment, all kinds of memories blitzed my heart and head. Wonderful meals, cramped spaces, poverty as a child.

For reference, this is the room once the shelves were removed and the house was  “all dolled up” to put on the market.

My heart was in a blender already when Chad’s second photo came through.

I still can’t look at this picture without choking up. (Thanks, Chad.) The transformation is stunning. The metaphor is wrenching. It was the Cross that redeemed all that poverty, brokenness, and lack. God took my parent’s best efforts and worst frailties and shaped their offering into something beyond their wildest dreams.

It’s a prayer every parent can relate to. I can relate to.  Oh God, make us aware of our inheritance to our children, good or bad, and may the Cross transform it all.

God breaks very real generational curses, redeems relationships, and restores fortunes lost or squandered. But wait there is so very much more.

Look at where Chad placed the cross. All greater things are grown out of the cross.

Greater Things is literally grown out of God’s relentless love as well as the love of those who have raised us in the faith. It’s our joy and honor now to continue to multiply all that we have been given.

Don’t miss this.

All of us, and I mean ALL of us, are ALWAYS climbing on the root system of someone before us. Someone else sacrificed and persevered and believed to the point of tears.  Jesus himself believed to the point of blood.

The belief that God will bring beauty from our ashes, joy from our mourning, a double portion for our shame, and freedom from captivity is our unending anthem.  In a word, transformation.

One final kiss. On Resurrection Sunday, the families each brought a flower and adorned the cross. Not that we could ever add to God’s glory — but we celebrate the power and beauty of our Life-giving, Chain-breaking, Death-defying King Jesus.

His Blood Speaks a Better Word

/ Jana / Leave a comment

I have this beautiful Jasmine plant outside.  You can imagine my delight when the small white blossoms opened up and filled the air with a heavenly scent.

It has been a frequent topic in my God conversations lately. I thanked the Lord for creating such beautiful expressions in nature. I marveled at Springtime and how the earth just cannot keep itself from declaring new life, life from that which seems dead.

I even shook my head at how this insignificant Jasmine plant was quietly and unassumingly taking over the fence line. With stretched-out tendrils and runners, it spreads its little domain, if you will.

Seriously, we have been talking about the parallels between this little plant and the Kingdom of God— it’s fragrant, relentless, and advancing.

But after looking at it multiple times a day for many days, today when I looked, it caught my breath.

I walked over to it to see what this red leaf was, maybe it blew into the fence from last night’s storm. No. It was very much a part of this thriving creation.

In the moment, the Lord whispered, the Blood is always in the middle of the Beauty.

Selah.

Holy Week is a pathway. From the Lord’s Supper, to the garden, to the trial, to the outrageous brutality, to the cross, to the tomb.  Pause and reflect but don’t stop in any one of these places. Taste the wine, cry the tears, wince at the nails being driven in, feel the breath leave His body, and flinch as rock grinds on rock as they rolled the tomb closed with His body inside.

But don’t stop there.

Resurrection Sunday is the unspeakable joy as the Blood bursts into glorious song.

“He is not here! He has risen just as He said.”

The Blood is always in the middle of the Beauty. Celebrate the Beauty and remember the Blood.

And we have come to Jesus who established a new covenant
with his blood sprinkled upon the mercy seat;
blood that continues to speak from heaven, “forgiveness,”
a better message than Abel’s blood that cries from the earth, “justice.”
Hebrews 12:24 TPT

 

How Much Love Is Enough?

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I seem to have a hard time loving. Even after all this time, some conflict or some person slams up against a brick wall inside my heart.  On this wall is a big neon sign that flashes “THAT’S IT! I’m done with you.”

To add insult to injury after the said collision, I then somehow conveniently build a case about why I am justified in my unlovingness.  I will even tiptoe into very dangerous territory about whether someone else is “worthy” of love.

Even after all this time, more than 30 years of being loved unconditionally and extravagantly by Jesus. I am still learning how to love.

I got in a tussle the other night and I was so mad. I was spouting off prayers left and right about how I had been offended and betrayed and how much I wanted God to defend me…

Holy Spirit’s answer stung like alcohol on an open wound.

“My blood is enough for you both.”

This is why I am so desperately aware of my need to celebrate the Resurrection every year.  I need the blood of Jesus to wash me clean.  I need the cross to remind me that it was Love that held Him there. He loved me more than my sin. More than your sin. The blood, the water, and the piercing of His side were not to fulfill some morbid code of punishment.

Instead, the cross demonstrates just how much love is enough to save the world.
To save my world and yours.
To save me.
From me.

Likewise, I need the empty tomb to strengthen my weak love muscles. His love in me is stronger than mine alone will ever be.  And just as the song declares, “If You walked out of the grave, I’m walking too.”

I was crucified with Him, therefore, I am raised to a whole new life with Him.  More is always possible with Him.

When Jesus said for us to love our enemies, (which at any moment might be our spouse, our family, our boss, or our neighbor) He wasn’t being cruel. He was telling us that He opened a door to a whole new level of Love that casts out fear. Love that cancels sin. Love that raises the dead. Love that takes down the brick walls inside our hearts.

So I will keep learning and practicing. I will keep going to His love tank instead of my own. He promised He will have His way in me and one day I will love as He does.

Until then, I will fall on His grace as He demolishes every brick wall that still exists in my heart.

Thank you, Jesus.

We are like common clay jars that carry this glorious treasure within,

so that this immeasurable power will be seen as God’s, not ours.

Though we experience every kind of pressure, we’re not crushed.

At times we don’t know what to do, but quitting is not an option.

We are persecuted by others, but God has not forsaken us.

We may be knocked down, but not out.

We continually share in the death of Jesus

in our own bodies so that the resurrection life

of Jesus will be revealed through our humanity.

We consider living to mean that we are constantly being

handed over to death for Jesus’ sake so that the life of Jesus

will be revealed through our humanity.

So, then, death is at work in us but it releases life in you.

2 Corinthians 4

Hot to Cold

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God is always leading us forward into freedom. Past the sin, the stuck places, the disappointment, and the heartache of living.

Forward.

Always forward into hope, into more of Him, into deep change. He does transformative work with this double-edged sword called Spirit and Truth.

With this sword, two things are happening at the same time. On one side, the truth of God sets us free from lesser lovers and worldly appetites. He reveals truth and lies lose their power. We are cut free from bondage.  On the other side, Holy Spirit comforts our spirit as we mourn our weakness and look for the courage to be changed. The Spirit cuts the cords of our complacency and apathy and we receive strength to be truly loved.

But to be clear, it is a deep cut into our current way of thinking. Spirit and Truth do not show up without us being painfully aware that Someone greater is on the scene. We are compelled forward.

It’s a complex thought I know, but so necessary for the days we live in. A friend and I were talking about  Matthew  24: 12 which warns the “love of others will grow cold.”  Look at the CEV version.

“Evil will spread and cause many people to stop loving others.”

Listen. If that doesn’t stop you in your tracks, I don’t know what will. Evil, from the enemy, will increase so much that people will stop acting like they know God.

How can this be? Remember Jesus’s command: Love God, others, and ourselves.  Romans says we OVERCOME evil with good.

We overcome the evil that comes against our own hearts, our families, our tribe, our city, and our nations.  I must press you today. Are you allowing the double-edged sword of spirit and truth to do its work in your life so that we can overcome the evil we all face?

Two verses come to mind that combat growing cold.

“Fan into flame the gift of God” from 2 Timothy 1:6.
“Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.” Hebrews 10: 24

Jesus is calling us to a deeper more vibrant way of life. We are invited to be so alive with His love that it heals us as we go and impact others.  And. It pushes back the evil of our day.

I recall the words of a Jenny Owens song. “I don’t want to be a flame, I want to be a raging fire.”

Push forward. Blaze bright. Overcome darkness.