Mikki's Posts

Falling on my face hard this week.  Focusing on a couple of chapters of Psalms that my grandfather mentioned to me.  Here's one that's quite beautiful... Psalm 19 For the director of music. A psalm of David. 1 The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. 2 Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. 3 There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. [a] 4 Their voice [b] goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world. In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun, 5 which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion, like a champion rejoicing to run his course. 6 It rises at one end of the heavens and makes its circuit to the other; nothing is hidden from its heat. 7 The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul. The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy, making wise the simple. 8 The precepts of the LORD are right, giving joy to the heart

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a Love me unconditionally— At my worst, at my best, Everywhere, all the time in between. Take me for who I am… For who I can become, Ask me to only be me, never someone else. Encourage my dreams, share my hopes— Let me cry on your shoulder when the weight of the world is too much to bear. When it seems I’m not listening, Let go of your frustration…look me in the eyes, Hold my gaze so I know to pay attention. Laugh at my jokes (even the really bad ones). When I stay out too late with the guys, Remember all the times I’ve remembered to call you saying I’m coming home late. When I leave messes in my office gently remind me to organize it. On the w

yes there is English and yes there is Russian but smiles hugs laughter the universal language of love and faith the walls that God breaks down that seem so tall to us are to him not even a trifle yes there are differences beyond language and yes there are gaps in understanding but in our similarities and our Lord Jesus together we are one. © Michelle Post (Inspired during trip to Khabarovsk, Russia to visit Pastor Roma and the New Transformation Church)

Praise the Lord. I can talk. Say what is on my mind. Raise that arm. Make a fist. Good. Squeeze fingers. Good. Wiggle toes? Check. Follow the light…left….good. Now right….okay, that will get better. Give it time. Be patient. I am alive. The miracle that is me continues, Underneath all these wires and leads and IVs…. I am still here. Undiminished. I am tired. I am sad. I am joyful. I am hopeful. My strength will return, And by God’s mercy and grace I will go on. For it is in my weakness that God is strong. It is in my brokenness before my Creator that I am whole. And it is in my Savior Jesus that I live. Praise the Lord. © Michelle Post Note: This was written a couple years ago in the ICU after my dad's worst stoke.  He's doing much better now, praise the Lord.

Who knew, who would have guessed that is could all be true? That elves were real, ogres exist, fairy godmothers too. That witches and princes, magic beans and yellow brick roads Were there to be found on the other side of the rainbow? I’ve been there you see, quite recently, and I’m telling you true. Fairy tale lands exist outside of me and you. Over yonder where the starlight sparkles It’s back there past that moment in time when you decided to grow up. Yes, you still imagine things. Suspend your disbelief but Always as the credits roll, you return to your so-called reality. That childlike innocence and wide-eyed wonder shone so brightly in our eyes, I confess I no longer see in your countenance. You may call me a fool, a child, insane. But I know the truth you can't take away. Perhaps one day you’ll ask me to help you find it again. © Michelle Post

swaying in the rocking chair my eyes begin to droop as daddy’s soft tenor lulls me to sleep i lean my head against his chest hear his heartbeat match the gentle rocking and as my father sings over me i know i am safe that thru the night he’ll watch over me in the doorway he’ll stand and listen to me breathe at my side he’ll come if he hears me crying and in the morning when the dark has gone he will come to wake me © Michelle Post

"The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17 So sick, so emotional, hormones I think, but then I realize I’m under attack… not the sinful foothold the devil had up to tonight no the Holy Ghost took him out in Jesus’ name rebuked he fled the area of my heart and mind and soul and I prayed so earnestly for the Holy Ghost to take control. The weight of it off my shoulders, my fever at it’s peak, my headache strong and spreading from my tears of pain and joy… more tears come and when did these thoughts of fear enter into play? While I wasn’t watching, celebrating the victory He gave. Fear, so insidious like many sins and temptations, it sneaks in as genuine concern, so one thinks but soon God is not in control and indeed seems not to be there, a lie from the father of falsehoods, for God has not left me but my fear is blinding and my easy targets are unde

I feel eternity rushing over me, under me caught in this cycle He has made me to follow the moon gladly do I crash upon the shore beat upon the sand then retreat I feel eternity rushing all around me yet it is I that really moves rustling the tall summer grass stirring the autumn leaves He sends me joyously to every corner through every crack I feel eternity rushing from above to below pouring down around me I saturate the ground with my all whether He sends me soft, sweet, fragrant or hard, bitter, rough I am delighted to be His to dispatch I feel eternity time itself rushing by me enduring yet wasting away I go not yet I am contentedly His to sit on the mountainside lie in the river’s deepest bed to cry out praise when needed I feel eternity as I coast from here to there across the vast expanse He has set me in I float above till He weighs me down with many different treasures He sends me to deliver happy am I to drift where He tells me I feel eternity rushing thru my limbs as season

Longing for a home As yet unreachable Bound to this earthly form Struggling and groaning in pain Decaying and dying Living under the curse of An imperfect life In an infected creation Craving home Where tears cease to flow Where from peace And love and Holiness and His presence I cannot hide Restlessly hungering Eagerly yearning A home invisible A home indiscernible A home inconceivable To human Eyes and ears and minds and hearts It is in and though divine energy Satisfaction will be found When His likeness is seen When His face is before me When I fall into His open loving arms I will be home © Michelle Post

A bell jar filled with twigs and blades of grass and the hole marked lid—a residence just waiting for an occupant or two. As dusk arrived they came out glowing and lighting up the evening. They seemed to vainly be trying to replace the sun or the moon or maybe the stars, but to us they were pure magic. Catching them was a game; we’d see who could catch the most or who would catch one first. We played until our mothers called us in, and even then we’d stall for a half hour just to savor the perfect magic that made up those summer nites of our youth. Deep inside we somehow knew this time was fading fast; enjoying it to the fullest was our duty. Remember the thrill of seeing the glow in the jar—like we’d captured a bit of magic that no one else had. Yet before we’d go in that guilty feeling would build up and overwhelm us so we let the little guys, or little girls, go. Because we realized that we couldn’t be selfish; no, everyone should be able to share in the magic. © Michelle Post

Faith is not always a champion which marches alone. Sometimes faith is accompanied by fear. Faith is not the absence of questioning; it is the presence of action in the midst of those questions. Faith does not provide all the answers; it provides a basis for confidence in the midst of unreasonable circumstances. --Woodrow Kroll we are told the faith of a mustard seed is all we need. a mustard seed? really? the tiniest seed one will ever see, that is all we need to move the mountains to the sea... a question, however, looms in my mind like a guillotine-- do I possess even that mustard seed? I let my fear be bigger; it towers over me like a giraffe shadows a blade of grass I give the fear power, and with power comes control. I allow myself to be helpless. (is that because I think I can no longer be blamed when I am not in control?) why do I freely surrender my life to fear and doubt and apprehension? my questions pile up like potato skins, as if I am on KP duty for breaking the rules. wh

A sampling of things you should have done over the years—  helped your friend in 4th grade when he got beat up by that sixth grade bully  paid attention in English comp  got a job  asked me to prom 1st  used more than two words in most of your sentences  put the toilet seat down  used your signal  stopped our friend from driving after that party sophomore year  stopped for milk at the grocery store  paid attention in algebra class  fought the good fight  kept your mouth shut in pep squad formation  cleaned the frat house before your mom visited  paid attention in chemistry lab  had any ambition  remembered to turn your signal off  let go of the past  smiled at that kid on the subway  treated your best friend to dinner for his birthday  paid attention in history class  waited for the trade paper back of 1st stargate atlantis  gone to any of your classes  dreamed  kept your fridge stocked with actual food  washed the dishes in your sink more often than every thre

discover the magic tome wander through the fog of ancient mysteries when the haunting chapter of searching for whom one really is begins down the road in the journey of one’s travels between the pages of one’s life lies the true character waiting to explode beneath the drama and devices the truth speaks if only one will hear part monster part hero part victim part villain one has many roles to play to explore, to amuse, to imagine and to entertain the soul and the stranger meet when one looks in the mirror and refuses to blink Copyright Michelle Post

Dark eyes consume me; Their gaze so strong I’m bruised, so intense I burn. I am tortured as if captured by Uruk-Hai. I am carved as if He wields Narsil. But not for all the rings of power, Would I trade His gaze for another. I am lost, drowning in the Great Sea, When He looks at me with His love. © Michelle Post

Creator be praised Let all Your creatures and creations Live to exalt You The works of Your hand Your creation Your design Your plan Every glance I take is full of You All these wonders They are Yours to Praise You alone I feel it in the winds’ fury I hear it in the mountains’ rumble I see it in the flowers’ tranquility In the swirling tornado The crushing tsunami The shuddering earthquake I feel Your power Unstoppable Awesome in destructive force I feel it in the prairies’ stillness I hear it in the forests’ jubilee I see it in the rivers’ exhilaration In the morning sunrise The fresh fallen snow The aurora borealis I see Your beauty Unmatchable Breathtaking in scope I feel it in the mists of twilight I hear it in the falling leaves I see it in the budding blossoms In the babbling creek The night crickets The rustling grasses I hear the music of Your heart Peaceful Soothing in quiet comfort I feel it in the scorching sun I hear it in the erupting volcano I see it in the serene night s

almost an angel this goddess in disguise in a pastoral scene of sweet visions a cold dark summer and dreams colored blue with melancholy haunted whispers smiles drunk with deception dancing with her is like caressing fire     Copyright Michelle Post

Monday was the terrible day of writer’s block when no words were forthcoming despite ample inspiration in the backyard garden; even had to write this description on Tuesday. Tuesday was the catch up day had pages and pages to write to stay on schedule with the next novel but then was sidetracked by the word of the day calendar……..pleonastic……. spent hours trying to convince the dog it was a real word. Wednesday was a writer’s dream, the muse was on fire— simile after metaphor after hyperbole after paragraph flew from my fingertips onto the page. well, keyboard that is. somewhere in the middle of it all, I started missing my pencil. Thursday. huh. never could get the hang of Thursdays. Friday was frantic… attempted to come up with something new for the rap off at the coffee house. knew that anything less than spectacular would be deconstructed to oblivion by that guy from the times that always sits at the third table from the left in the second row. Saturday, took a siesta… then guilt g

a chill runs down my spine as the words he says creep across the space between us stealthily slipping past the firewall within infecting my heart with acrid sorrow blink and he’s gone Copyright Michelle Post

Ah, the crisp page smells of new adventures New flights of fancy on which to fly away Page 52 comes too fast yet 172 takes forever Lost in the descriptions, dialogue, ----- No longer oneself but this character or that Pain, joy, discovery, empathy and sympathy both Dreams, nightmares, specters, visions, fantasies, delusions One is another; another is self Together entwined to embark as one To know is to become known To prevail is to find satisfaction To suffer is to begin to understand To love is to encounter truth At just the right moment one reads The End Copyright Michelle Post

What are we holding onto, Sam? -Frodo Baggins That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for. –Samwise Gamgee It truly is At once our hearts Mere embers Ignite with force A bonfire Blazing Burning Blistering Heart and mind and body moved Beyond rhetoric More than thoughts Lies battle Heroic deeds Victory The hall of Our Father awaits Copyright 2009 Michelle Post

It's very weird.  I'm just saying, the contradictions of humanity still blow my mind.  I don't get me. Forgiveness comes so easily at times.  Other moments and situations it's a concerted effort.  When it comes to other people it's natural to assume forgiveness will have to enter into all of one's relationships.  People are flawed and fallen and will let you down. There are some people that will enter your life who will let you down much less than others.  But from my time on this earth I can guarentee that everyone you know will let you down, someway, somehow, sometime. That's not to say the relationship will be permantantly damaged.  It could be in the smallest way in which a person fails to meet your expectations.  Such trival matters are easy to forgive and forget and leave in the past.  There are, of course, larger issues that will bend and strain your patience.  These situations grow to mountain size and often appear insurmontable.  At least at

Facebook can make it hard to be friends. Don't get me wrong... It's been wonderful to connect to current friends I hang out often with, friends I barely see anymore and friends with whom I've completely lost contact.  I've received and given encourgement and comfort and support more times I than I can count with both my hands and feet.  There's funny comments, lots of photos and glimpses into the lives of people I can about. That being said, FB was created by humans.  Thus, it is intrinsically imperfect.  There are times when it is difficult to upload photos; occasions where there are servers issues that cause posts to be repeated or delayed.  There are plenty of problems that can come from a free service.  After all, the phrase "you get what you pay for" is cliche because it's true. And some of those imperfect humans I call my friends use profanity. I'm not a totally prude or snob.  I have learned to accept profane, vulgar and obscene lang

Uh....'cause it always comes before I fall? Seriously, doing so well the last few weeks.  On a total high spiritually and BAM!  Helloooo temptation!  Did I resist?  A few days ago, not so much.  I wish I could say I at least struggled a little.  But I let myself be caught off guard. Sheilds down, no defensive measures activated....you get the idea. Thank God for his grace and mercy.  He loves me when I mess up.  I talked with a good friend who reminded me that Christ died for my sins.  All of them. There's something I've heard from a couple pastors and read in a book recently.  I can't remember any specific reference but I'm going to say it anyway.  Either sin keeps you from the Bible or the Bible keeps your from sin. So true just from looking at my life the last couple of weeks.  So I dived back into the Word via, well, the Word. :)   I'm also keeping Every Woman's Battle Promise Book close to me.  Lots of great scripture grouped by promises.  Examp

This is an amazing book!  Written by Shannon Ethridge, the full title is Every Woman's Battle: Discovering God's Plan for Sexual and Emotional Fullfillment .  It is targeted at married women but also for single women who intend to get married someday and also for single women who have married friends that may need the occasional piece of "wise counsel", as Stephen Arterburn says in his forward.  (Stephen is the author of the best sellng Every Man's Battle  book series among other works) I just finished it and plan on reading again this month dong the workbook this time.  I have to say if you are a woman who follows Christ this is a must read. The battle for sexual purity, not just physical but emotional, mental and spiritual is a very under-talked subject for women.  That very much needs to change if we are going to be fully mature women of God. There were so many "wow" moments for me, when I just had to sit a moment and think about it.  Or rereathe