Seven

I was born on the seventh day of the seventh month of the year. This may not mean much to most people but to a girl that was wondering what her place was in this world, in her family but most importantly, in her Father’s eyes, it’s an understanding of her identity.

Growing up, I was always told that I wasn’t planned, or that I was unexpected, even my mother’s doctor got mad at her for getting pregnant for the fourth time. This was because my two older brothers were born with an immune deficiency, called Bruton’s Disease. This genetic disease only affects the male, or X chromosome where the females are carriers. It is characterized by low levels of immunoglobulins, which are proteins or antibodies made by the immune system to fight off infections. Therefore, without knowing if I was a girl or boy, the doctor was worried that my mother would have three boys with the same disease. And thirty years ago, medicine wasn’t was it is now.

But to soften the blow, my mom likes to tell me of a time she was fixing the bed and God told her I was a healthy girl. However, as a self-depreciating, insecure pre-teen, it fell on deaf ears. The enemy had already made a play at my heart. He wanted me to feel unloved, unwanted, and unworthy. And I did.

Although I was raised in the church, it wasn’t until I was in college that I really decided to pursue a relationship with God. So, in all that time, these seeds of unwantedness, unworthiness and unlovedness, took root. I can tell you now, I didn’t truly know the Father’s heart for His children. The more I shed myself from religion and clothed myself in relationship, the clearer He became. In fact, a major turning point in my relationship with God came when I learned the biblical significance of the number seven. The biblical meaning of seven is a “physical and spiritual completeness and perfection.” Let me pause right here to say that I am nowhere near complete or perfect- actually, I think that was my initial thought upon learning this meaning. But the more I reflected and found the number seven in scripture, the more I understood God’s love for me.

Now, this revelation didn’t come automatically. I spent time with it and reflected on it over and over again. Sometimes it takes time to uproot the unloving seeds the enemy likes to sow, especially since most of my adolescence was spent in a constant search of belonging. I would continually ask myself if I really belonged in my family, if they loved me or I was needed in this world at all. I think a lot of young people, especially young girls, find themselves asking these questions.

However, as I got older and matured, I fell deeper and deeper in love with God. And as it does when you go deeper with Him, He reveals facets of His heart, bit by bit. Consequently, Scripture begins to jump off the page as if life had been breathed into it, giving a full understanding of the term “Living Word.” Worship music gives way for tears that we have previously held back from shedding. And we begin to see others as our brothers and sisters, intentionally intertwined in our paths for His Glory. Getting to know Jesus this way, can only be done through revelation by the Holy Spirit and through encounters with Him. I truly believe He yearns for an intimate relationship with all of us that craves priority, vulnerability, and authenticity.

Furthermore, it’s in this relationship that I found my identity: a beloved child of God. I was born on the seventh day of the seventh month of the year because He designed it that way. By His love, I am perfect and complete. He is a purposeful God that formed me in my mother’s womb to specifically complete His design of my family. And it’s in His perfect love for me that I may find confidence and no longer fear the enemy’s attacks. Though I fall short most days, I know I am loved by a good, good Father. I know that I am wanted and I know that I am His worthy servant. Scripture sums it up this way,

“So, we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him. By this is love perfected with us, so that we may have confidence for the day of judgment, because as he is so also are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. We love because he first loved us.”

1 John 4:16-19

Lastly, now that I am an aunt to the most amazing nieces and nephews a girl could ask for, it has never been so clear to me as to why God completed my family with me. As their Emmie, God has revealed more and more facets of His heart. Not only does every scripture about becoming childlike make more sense, but I don’t think I ever really knew unconditional love before falling in love with them. If my love for them is anywhere close to the love He has for His children, then, boy, are we cherished and adored. We are beloved.

Meet Me At The Tree Line

Meet me at the tree line
Where there is no intrusion from Your light
Where there are no shadows to hide from your outstretched sun rays that warm my bare skin as if I am wrapped into Your all-consuming embrace

Meet me at the tree line
Where I stand in self-sacrificing victory
Where my feet happily rest on a treacherous mountain of cracked relational rocks, self deprecating debris, and tear-soaked mud

Meet me at the tree line
Where my exhausted voice endlessly echos
Where my songs meet Your ears with ease in which sounds do not fall silent but fade only slightly as they fill every corner of the sky, blending with the joyful noise of Your Kingdom Choirs

Meet me at the tree line
Where looking down ignites vertigo-like memories of pain and rejection
Where You draw my eyes outward and upward to Your Wonder as I stand in awe of each fruitful tree You rooted to every mountain I conquered and every valley where I felt false contentment

Meet me at the tree line
Where I can breathe in Your fresh, clean fragrance
Where I can taste Your hypnotizing wind which causes my sails to bend toward the direction You have predestined and I can fly faster with each hydrating gust

Meet me at the tree line
Where I feel close enough to take a hold of Your hand
Where we can finally dance together as if we are a bride and groom on our wedding day and the only gaze we are concerned with is each other’s

Meet me at the tree line
Where I am no longer fearful of leaping
Where I now know my next move is a dive into You for backsliding down the path Your words once illuminated, is no longer safe

Meet me at the tree line
Where I know without a doubt You exist
Where Your work, Your beauty and Your creativity dwell, where they serve as the clearest picture of who You truly are, where I am overwhelmed

Trees

I know I must grow deeper to bear sweeter fruit
I know I must be rooted to withstand these trials of truth
In soil enriched with iron, I am sharpened and yet tangled
Sauntering in a fragile foundation, susceptible to insects and snakelike temptations

With avoidance, I continually push myself
Blindly creating what seems like endless pathways
Attaching and weaving myself through familiar salvations
Until I become thirsty, in need of a specific holy libation

I find temporary rest in the hydration of hope
Yet unable to be still, the surface heat keeps me pressing
Searching for a way out of the lukewarm earth into the fiery rays of light
I get caught in a cycle between parched works and words constantly digressing

Anxious for the breakthrough, my paths keep widening
Until all of a sudden all traces of pressure are gone
Then I see the source of energy that kept me alive through the wrecking
And now I bloom to make sure other trees know whom and what they need to survive

My Autumn

My desires tell me to stay evergreen

But Your desires tell me otherwise

You force a new color to bleed over

Then You peel me of my driest skin

 

I begrudgingly allow the metamorphosis

As the yellows and oranges become more comfortable

And I begin to shake loose the sunburns

As Your shortened daylight serves as holy moisturizer

 

For autumn is not about new growth

It’s not about the sprouting of first beautiful blooms

But instead the slow disintegration of past comforts

And a dissolve of unrighteous content

 

You will use this time to gather up loose ends

But also to break off brittle, unfruitful branches

For the harvest has been reaped of passionless crops

And future frosty blues and snowy whites will kill off anything left

 

This season tends to cause weariness

But I trust in Your promises of spring

For autumn clears way for a maturation of oneself

And brings about hope through cooler but intentional winds of change

Alabaster Box

Purposely white

Seemingly translucent

You are small in shape

But your significance is plenty

 

I’ve lent you to be borrowed

And I am ashamed to have

For you are a piece of me

An offering to be had

 

So I will ask for your forgiveness

As I will only entrust to one set of hands

Your fragrances should break

And its aroma will be received to only His plans