Hello my friends, spring is blooming and it’s time to soak up some Vitamin D. Sunshine heals and strengthens body, mind, and spirit. I believe God speaks to us in the breezes and birdsong. Take time out to be still, be quiet, and be loved by your Heavenly Father.

A couple weeks ago, I shared my experience with what Oswald Chambers calls, “co-crucifixion.” Then, last week, a piece of my heart was exposed with the birth and death of my Ashley Nicole. God has pursued me my whole life. I see Him in my earliest memories and especially my teen years as I tried to find myself and Him. Because of His patient pursuit in my hardest days of doubt and angst and grief, I now experience what Chamber calls, “co-resurrection,” new life in Christ.

After we make the decision to be done with what holds us down and hides our divine design, His resurrection life penetrates our human nature. We are rescued from sin’s control and raised to new life with Him. What a deal. We give God what’s broken and He gives us the ability ~ the power ~ to have new life.

Galatians 2:20 reminds us, “My old self has been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”

And, in Ezekial, we read  “… I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart.” Jesus’ Spirit replaces our spirit. Our heart is now God-centered, not self-centered. 

Oswald Chambers explains, “The Holy Spirit cannot be accepted as a guest in merely one room of the house—He invades all of it. And once I decide … my heredity of sin should be identified with the death of Jesus, the Holy Spirit invades me. He takes charge of everything. My part is to walk in the light and to obey all that He reveals to me.”

When we become aware of wrong mindsets and behavior, we’re responsible to nail them to the cross where they belong. Sin has no power over us anymore ~ unless we let it. We choose to do die daily to anything keeping us from fully knowing our God-given design. In so doing, we not only live a full life, we also pass it to others.

God doesn’t dump all our stuff in a heap and leave us to sort it out. He continues to reveal it until we’re ready to deal with it. Not to condemn us. The enemy of our soul does that. The guilt we feel—sometimes a gentle nudge, sometimes a swift kick—is information to steer us. It’s our road map to freedom and Jesus walks the whole journey with us.

Our Heavenly Father is not only patient in our process of becoming, He delights in watching us grow out of ourselves and into the person He created.

So, we ask: What’s still hides my God-given identity? Some mindsets and actions that belong to our old nature are sneaky. They’re so comfy, we wear them like smooth skin under silk sheets. In reality, they are itchy, wool blankets waiting to be dug up from a moldy basement.

Yes, my friend, we don’t always feel so new, brave, or empowered. But we are. We don’t live by feelings, we live by faith. It’s not always easy, but we pray, we read Scripture and trust our new, resurrected life to lead us on a path to holiness. Holiness? Now there’s a churchy word. Join me next time as we bring a lofty word down to earth.

Courage and joy for your journey, my friend. 

 

 

 

Photo from Pixabay.com

My daughter, Ashley Nicole, breezed into my life on May 1st, spring’s new cleansing breath. She lived for nine days and died on my darkest night. But, thirty-nine years later, I rest in what she taught me. One who never spoke a word.

When we carried her out of the hospital, joy was new and bright like sunshine and birdsong. When she died, my days grayed. Grief slithered in to steal Ashley’s joy. But it’s back, because I fought for it. Well … not at first.

Our souls have an enemy. Where there’s joy, there’s a battle.

Our pain is painted on in layers. Some by others, some by our own choices. When Ashley died, my suffering sealed all those hurting layers. My empty arms ached and anger towards God spiraled me further into a pit. My pursuit of relief and escape took me where I never imagined. I dulled my sorrow with alcohol, drugs, and relationships.

Some of us lash out, over-eat, or over-shop. Whatever works to make us feel better, to maintain control, or to make others pay for our pain. Anger will shackle us to a victim mindset as we relive the pain, keeping our wounds fresh.

I know because my identity was wrapped tight in that victim-skin. It was a soul-killing, twisted comfort that kept me trapped for years.

Since childhood, I’d sensed a light beyond my reach, coaxing me past my pain. It was something stronger than my parents’ persuasion or my religion’s rules. Something personal. I called it false hope until grief’s weight and sinful choices broke me and I finally let Jesus into my selfish world.

He showed me that my husband and children deserved better than what broken-me gave them. He revealed who I was underneath my fear and shame: whole and healthy. He challenged me to believe that hope is real, peace is possible, and healing is available.

I learned a lot from my baby girl who breezed in and out of my  life. Through the pain of her leaving and the pit I sank into, she taught me that a sin-soaked past can be turned around for good and there’s always a higher road to rescue me. She taught me that heartache, though a part of life, doesn’t define me.

By God’s grace, I  can resist whatever or whoever tries to steal my joy. I’m no longer a victim and I’m proof that grief and joy can coexist in a heart where peace reigns.

My baby girl led me to the One who died so I could live fully and freely. Ashley Nicole showed me Jesus.

Photo: Robin & daughter, Hannah, born ten years after Ashley Nicole

 

©Robin Melvin 2016

 

I’ve been thinking about Jesus’ death and resurrection ~ those powerful moments that split history.

And how, because of those moments, we get to experience Easter every day. Each morning, we wake to resurrection power: our new life, redeemed by Christ.

The greatest moment in my life is when I made, what Oswald Chambers calls, a “complete and effective decision about sin.” It happened when I knelt at a dark-stained pine bench in a little Arkansas church.

Pastor Mike knelt on the other side and leaned over to talk to me. The piano clanged, “Just as I Am,” and drowned out most of his words. I couldn’t speak but I cried and nodded. Yes, I believe Jesus died for my sin. Yes, I want Him to be Lord of my life.

That’s when Christ’s resurrection power split my story. And I stepped from death to life.

I didn’t completely understand what happened, but I felt lighter, at peace. That first taste of freedom made me determined to die to everything that shackled me. I was sick of sinful choices and soul-killing shame. I was so done with letting them harass my mind and dictate my life.

There was still a lot to learn, but I’d made a decision that Chambers calls “co-crucifixion.”

In Romans 6:5-7 Paul urges us, ^“Since we have been united with him in his death, we will also be raised to life as he was. We know that our old sinful selves were crucified with Christ so that sin might lose its power in our lives. We are no longer slaves to sin. For when we died with Christ we were set free from the power of sin.”

It’s nailed to the cross. And it no longer has power over us.

I walked out of that little church to a brighter day. Because Jesus removed my guilt, gave me hope, and literally lifted my head. I was forgiven and free. My past sin was nailed dead, and my daily struggle—he’d patiently teach me to strip away, piece by piece.

Chambers says when we decide to kill sin in us, it’s the greatest moment of our lives. We don’t simply try to restrain it, suppress it, or counteract it, we crucify it. We stop playing around with it and nail it for good.

Has Jesus’ death and resurrection split your story?

What if your past is simply a chapter that’s leading you to a new beginning … and a glorious ending?

As the old you dies to unhealthy thought patterns and  unholy habits—the new you becomes who you were created to be, whole and free.

 Every day really can be Easter. Resurrection power and Abundant life.

☮🙏🏻💗

 

 

 

Do you ever miss an important moment because you’re preoccupied? Something else grabs your attention: Facebook, TV, a text, or a tweet? I’ve been there too. But for me the thief is often more subtle. It’s an attitude that robs me of engaging in the now, being present in the present. Let me tell you about a moment I almost missed.

My granddaughter, Madison, was three when the rose bushes drew her in. Cupping a Barbie-pink blossom with both hands, she nestled her face into its petals. I knelt in the dirt yanking weeds that invaded my flower garden and my sense of justice. Even Madison singing my name didn’t soften my attitude.

“Meema, your woses smell so good.”

“Be careful, Madison, don’t smash it.”

The day before, I’d returned from a weekend trip to a cluttered home. Now, the overdue weeding stoked the fires of my martyrdom to a rolling boil. I have to do everything around here. I live with the laziest people on earth. And, why am I raising my granddaughter? I, the victim. I, the under-valued. I, so sweet and blessed just days ago at a women’s retreat.

Mid-pity party, I turned to see a bush half-stripped of roses. My face flushed hot.

Madison twirled. Eyes shut, head back with pony tails poking straight out, she raised her arms, palms to the sky. Rose petals fluttered from her hands and floated to the ground. A pink path meandered around the other two bushes, now nearly naked. Silky shades of pink to white blanketed the brown mulch and covered those noxious weeds that wanted to rob me of the moment.

Wobbly from her dance, Madison tried to stand still. Her blue, wide-open eyes admired her work. “Oh, Meema. Isn’t it boo-tee-ful?”

The harsh words rising up in me had already dissipated. “Yes, Madison Grace. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

Eyes off myself, I embraced God’s gentle reminder to take it all in. But I almost missed it.

Selfishness can lock us into a martyr mentality, a victim mindset. It’s an attitude that blinds us and binds us to thinking life is all about me. My comfort, my happiness. A me-centered world is quite small and in it, no one else measures up.

As a Christ follower, I’m called to mirror the attitude of Jesus. When I study His character and seek it, He keeps me selfless and sacrificial. When I remember my mess before asking Him to guide my life, I’m grateful for each day.

Is there someone who needs you to be fully present? Maybe a spouse, a friend, or a parent? Remember, roses grow back, but people grow old and children grow up.

Choosing abundant life in Christ empowers us to live fully in the now. Sometimes we’ll mess up. But we press on because we don’t want to miss one more breath-stealing moment.

“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the present.” –Oogway, Kung Foo Panda

 

Photo from Pixabay.com