The Silly Cyst

Doctor Gyno called this morning. She said the cyst can just chill out in my bod because there are no solid parts to it, it's straight liquid and therefore benign (typically). It's not very big and it's not on my ovary (its somewhere in my poop-shoot/bowel area) so it won't effect pregnancy (if that's in God's plan). I should get periodical check ups every six months on it to see if it's growing solid parts or if there is any pain. But surgery is not required. I just have a $150 appointment in a couple weeks with the General Surgeon M.D. for my first official 'check up'. It beats $2,000+ surgery and fun with a scalpel. Thank you GOD for hearing our prayers.

Don't forget to read the short story I posted below. I'm really excited about writing little bits of fiction. If you haven't read the other one, HERE it is (another adaptation of a parable). They aren't pro, nor are they fully revised and edited to perfection. They are just little jewels in my heavenly treasure pile, so to speak.


Plank and Speck - A Story

Once upon a time there was a man with a plank of sharp wood sticking out of his eye at about an arms length. It seemed he was unaware of this plank because nearly every time he went to turn his head and look, he’d either jab somebody in the cheek or whack them on the back of the head.

They would yell, "Hey watch it buddy!" or something like that and he would glare at them and stick his thumb behind the badge on his lapel. The person would rub their sore spot and say quietly, "My apologies, officer."

His name was Inspector Woodrow Iris and he had one delight in life and that was his profession. From morning till evening he would walk the streets of Canceymutch Quarter watching the people go to and fro on various business. In one eye he held a very sophisticated eyeglass which he thought made him look like Sherlock Holmes. In the other eye was the plank.

You would think that a piece of wood sticking out of a person’s eye would have been painful and some would even think it was physically impossible. But, the people in Canceymutch were a very different kind of folk. Every one of them had a serious eye problem of one sort or another. Some of them had specks in their eyes that made them red and itchy. Those people spent most of their time trying to rub them out, but this only made it worse. However, most of the strange folk had sticks and planks of all shapes and sizes in one eye or another. The interesting thing is, none of them realize it. There was a strange fear of mirrors in that place perpetuated by an ancient wives tale. The superstition was that if a person looks in the mirror they will be reversed so that their left hand is their right hand and their right foot is their left foot. None of the folks have grown up without the story of "Mister MacFlirror who Looked in a Mirror". This unfortunate man’s thumbs and big toes ended up on the wrong sides of his hands and feet! All of the people of Canceymutch would rather not see what they look like anyway. They are far too busy looking at others and being looked at by others.

Which is why Inspector Iris loved his job so much. He got paid, and very well I might add, to scrutinize the people of his town. He sometimes had a little fun with the townsfolk by pulling a magnifying glass from his coat pocket and glaring with his good eye while saying, "How can you see anything with that piece of soot stuck in your eye? Ha ha! I could fine you for that!" The people would usually gasp and rub their eyes embarrassingly while they hurried off. No one could ever tell if they were going to be fined by the Inspector.

He was an expert interrogator of his suspects. None of the other investigators knew what his trick was to getting people to tell the truth, but he always did. You could say that Inspector Iris was one of the favorites among the bureaucrats for his funding of city projects.

One glaringly sunny day the Inspector was making his usual rounds through the Quarter. Suddenly he happened upon a young lady crying behind a water fountain. He felt something in his chest that made him pause and try to remember if he’d had something sweet for breakfast that morning. When he remembered that he’d in fact had greasy ham and eggs, he couldn’t understand why his chest felt so wonderful. He thought for sure his heart had turned into a piece of candy at the sight of the girl.

"Ahem," he grumbled, "What’s this? Crying? I could fine you for that." He breathed a half-hearted, "Ha," and took a few steps closer to the girl.
She wiped her nose and turned to look at him.
He jumped back suddenly. She had a ghastly black speck in her eye that looked very painful. But just as he was shuddering at the sight of it he realized she had also jumped back at the sight of him.
"Your...eye!" she yelled, pointing at him.
"No!" he protested, "Yours."
The girl grimaced, "Doesn’t that hurt?" She went to touch the plank that was only an arms length away from her.
"I don’t know what you mean. You are the one with the eye problem." He thought about arresting her for being so alarmingly beautiful and intrusive. But instead he turned and began to walk off.
"Wait," the girl said softly, "can you help me, officer?"
Inspector Iris spun around on his heel and faced her, clicking his shoes together and tucking his night stick under his arm. "Why, of course. What seems to be the problem," he thought about adding, other than your unfortunately ugly eye blemish, but stopped himself.
"Well, I..." tears welled up and rather than clean her eye, it just seemed to get more red and irritated-looking, "...I’ve lost my Gabby," she began sobbing.
"You seem pretty talkative to me," said the Inspector, "and if I wasn’t feeling particularly, uh, sweet this morning I would have to fine you for your outburst. However, what is it you are looking for again?"
"Gabby! She’s my dog." The girl stood up straight and wiped her eyes, wincing a little at the pain in one of them. She continued, "my Gabby ran out of the house this morning and she doesn’t know her way around the Quarter yet because we just moved here yesterday. I wanted to call to her but my neighbor said I would get fined if I yelled before lunchtime. Now she’s probably trying to find her way back to our last home and that’s miles from here..." she dropped her face into her hands and sobbed quietly.
"Miss, I am pleased to hear that you’ve kept the Morning Quiet Law and so I will help you by making an exception," Inspector Iris glanced at his watch, "It’s nearly eleven now and if I am standing here with you no one will protest if you call for your dog."
She immediately cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "Gabby! Here girl! Yooohooooooo!" Then she stuck two fingers in her mouth and blew the loudest whistle Inspector Iris had ever heard. He found himself reaching for his handcuffs but remembered that he had permitted her to behave so violently.
As she made a circle around the center of the Quarter calling and whistling over and over, the Inspector tried not to stare or grit his teeth. He had been so utterly taken by the girl’s beauty that he felt foolish for allowing her to perform such a spectacle. He could feel the eyes of the townsfolk peering through closed curtains and he even heard a few planks tap against a few windowpanes curiously.
Finally a small beige creature came racing around the corner of a house right to where the girl was shouting. She squealed, "Good girl!" And swept the small, fluffy dog into her arms.
"Well, then," said Inspector Iris, "that’s what all the noise was for?" He walked slowly over to them and blinked at the dog. It whined and wriggled in the girl’s arms and something made the Inspector want to pet the silly thing. As he took one step closer the girl, not the dog, yelped.
"Ow! What was that for?" She was rubbing the back of her head.
"I’m sorry miss, I don’t know what you mean," he backed up and looked at her embarrassed and suddenly foul.
"I mean, you poked me in the head with that horrid beam you have in your eye!"
"That’s it!" Shouted Inspector Iris, "You asked for my help and I gave it to you. Now you are insulting my dignity with your ridiculous accusations." He grabbed her by the arm, no longer enchanted by her soft cheeks and said firmly, "You’re coming with me!"

A half an hour later the Inspector sat at his desk adding up the fines for that morning. The girl had been in the cell across the room from him begging him to let her out since he put her there. Now she sat fuming on the cot occasionally rubbing her eye.
"What’s your name," he finally asked.
"Cecilia Speckney," was her blunt retort.
"How much do you think I should fine you for your outburst, Miss Speckney?"
"Well, how much money do you think I have?"
"Now, now," said the Inspector and looked up at her, "I’m not going to fine you. I only wanted to bring you here as a warning."
She breathed out and smiled at him, "You mean I’m not going to be fined?" Then, to Inspector Iris’s surprise she walked up to the bars of the cell and gazed out at him almost lovingly. He could see the hideous black thing in her eye and pitied her.
"Miss," he stammered and rose from his seat, "do you mind if I try to remove it?"
"Remove what?" asked Cecilia, a little nervously.
"That painful-looking speck in your poor eye." He came closer to the cell and saw that Cecilia was backing up.
"Sir, I don’t think it’s a good idea." She was a few feet away from the bars now, looking unsure.
Inspector Iris was confused but growing more attracted to the girl by the second. He wanted desperately to help her. "Don’t you think I am capable of removing such a small nuisance? After all, I’ve removed nearly all the crime from this fine town."
"A fine town it is," she giggled and brought her delicate hand up to her mouth, "but have you ever removed a speck from anyone’s eye before?"
"Are you saying I can’t do it?" He stopped his approach.
"No! I’m just...uh, wondering how well you’d be able to see up close with that...uh...." she looked at her feet.
Inspector Iris grew hot with frustration. It appeared to him as though the girl wanted nothing to do with him now that she’d gotten her frumpy rag of a dog back. So he yanked his keys from his belt and unlocked the door.
"You may go," he said, coldly.
"Thank you, er, sorry...." she picked up Gabby and walked quickly out of the Police Station. Inspector Iris placed his eyeglass snugly on his good eye socket and walked slowly out into the afternoon sun. He scanned each and every person in the Quarter with a menacing growl. There were a lot of fines to be handed out.

That night, the Inspector had a horrible nightmare. He dreamed the whole town was on fire and the women and children were running this way and that. But for some reason he couldn’t move or do anything about it. Then he realized, in his dream, that it was only his head that was stuck while the rest of his body was able to move from nearby flames. He reached up his hands and felt into the smoke in front of him. The first thing he felt was a chain-link fence and as he moved his hands together he grasped something flat and splintery. Just then he felt his sock catch on fire. He screamed and threw his head back. Suddenly he could see everything much more clearly. As he was about to be relieved he looked at what was stuck between the chain links in front of him. It was a plank, dangling there with glistening tears on the end of it.

He jolted awake at the thought and found he was breathing rapidly. What a horrible dream, he thought, to think I would have a plank in my eye like some of the real fools in this town? He began to close his eyes with relief but there was a problem. He could only close one eye. The other eye wouldn’t close and that had never happened before, had it? The first thing he did was reach up to his face to inspect it.

Was he still dreaming? Or was there really that same splintery piece of wood sticking out of him like in his dream? It was too much to think about so, not knowing if he was asleep or awake he grasped it with both hands and began praying silently to God. An amazing strength came over him and he tugged as hard as he could. It was painful but it worked! Moments later he was lying there staring at the plank that had once been lodged in his eye. There on the end of it were the glistening tears.

After crying for a while and praising God in his heart, he saw the blue of morning through his window. It was a brighter blue than any he’d ever known. He leapt from his bed and reached for his robe and slippers. He had to go and see what the town looked like with both of his eyes. The dignity that he’d once had seemed so ridiculous so that he couldn’t think of anything but being free of it! So he flew out the front door in his night clothes and ran through the Quarter taking in everything his eyes possibly could.

When the sun had almost risen, he was sitting by the fountain where he’d found Cecilia the day before. She was just coming out of her house, yawning, with Gabby on a leash at her feet.
"Good morning," he said.
Cecilia gasped quietly, raising her eyes to his, "Shhh," she whispered, "The Inspector will hear you and fine you if you make noise before lunchtime." She started to walk toward the park when suddenly she stopped and turned back toward him. She rubbed her bad eye and took a few steps forward, squinting.
"Do I know you?" She said.
"Cecilia," he whispered, "it’s me."
"Inspector?" She walked toward him, close enough so she could really see him. He noticed her puffy eye was red and sore from the speck and he ached for her to be free of it. She looked confused, but delighted at the same time.

As the sunlight shot onto the quarter he stood up beaming with such a childlike smile that he felt like his teeth were made of candy. The girl that stood before him couldn’t have been more beautiful to his eyes. And, though he didn’t know it, he wasn’t too shabby-looking without a giant piece of wood shadowing half his face.

"Miss," he said, taking her hand in his, "I wanted to thank you for standing up to my stubbornness. If you hadn’t been so bold, and dare I say, beautiful I might never have realized." At that moment Inspector Woodrow Iris got down on one knee and gazed up at the girl named Cecilia Speckney...

She didn’t say yes at first to his proposal of marriage. It took several months of silly courting and too much time spent with Gabby before he finally got her to accept him. By the time of the wedding he was no longer Inspector Iris but Doctor Iris. After some schooling and lots of prayer to God he opened his own optometry clinic. Mrs. Cecilia Iris was his first patient.


Night Lights

I find (define?) myself through movies, a lot. Some of the roles that Gwyneth has played have helped to show me what I am. If it hadn’t been for the movies I’ve seen, would I ever have found my monster? She is stark and beautiful with an insanity that is constantly being exposed as genius. But she is hopelessly mad. Since I could put sentences together, I have been writing what is in my soul. The words that are joined into ideas present themselves on a page or a screen and reflect back to me an affirmation. Yes, this is who you are. Tonight I heard the words, "How many days have you wasted?" It was a movie about crazy mathematicians who counted every thing and every pattern. I don’t count things but I know the patterns. They are not numeric patterns but patterns of story. My mind is not healthy enough to capture an equation, put the boundaries on it, and call it a "proof". The patterns shine in an instant and illuminate my heart and in another instant they are gone, leaving only their glowing echo.

I have memories of revelations, but they are like the image of the sun that leaves a white spot on the inside of my eyelid. Sometimes I will stare directly at a ceiling light in a room at night, drop my lids for two seconds, and then open my eyes to allow the light into another part of my eye. If you do that enough it leaves dozens of beautiful dots on your brain. The darkness is so much more enchanting with stars in it. My life has been full of the flashes of oncoming car headlights that leave me so disoriented in the dark that even the white line on the right side of the road can’t keep me on course. By grace, going off-road hasn’t been too difficult for my vehicle. I still drive, sometimes creeping through the black darkness waiting for some sign that I’m not headed for destruction. God provides.

Mathematicians call them equations, people like me call them metaphors. Gwyneth must call them good scripts because she takes the parts. Did those movies create those parts of my soul or just reflect to me what was already there? I wouldn’t give Hollywood’s writers too much credit but I may be inclined to give some credit to Charles Dickens, William Shakespeare, and Sylvia Plath. Truthfully, the credit goes to God. If I hadn’t been born in America to two people who refused cable television in exchange for renting movies every night I never would have gotten such an education. I’m thankful to God for the stories that have helped me to find myself. Because I believe He made me this way and provided the means by which I could discover myself. It’s harder to believe that He made me with a blank soul and allowed the influences in my life define me.

Maybe God created humans in the time-space continuum to add variety to Heaven. When you think about it, angels have had eternity as their time and influence, and God Himself. Seeing as how God created this universe and everything in it, I doubt He is lacking in variety. But He is not lacking in light and love. By allowing a creature to find the light in the darkness rather than just birthing them within the light, He makes a creature that can appreciate light infinitely more. I think it also allows all the creatures to know that light and love are good and worth choosing over something else. Paul says that we will judge angels and I’m assuming he means the fallen angels. He could also mean the unfallen angels who have never been corrupted by Lucifer but who have loved their King despite having never known any other ruling force but Him. I shouldn’t talk about things I know nothing about. But it’s so wonderful to talk about them! In this life I am free to wonder because after this life (if you can call this ‘life’ compared to the Eternal Life that’s to come) I will know as I am known. I believe in Heaven I will have all the answers to the questions that right now require me to have faith. Why did God create time? How did God create matter and space? When was Truth staring me in the face and I didn’t recognize it as Truth?

Lights. Truth. It passes me again and gives me hope that all is not darkness on this strange road. The last Light I see with these eyes will be Him. It won’t pass me on the left or leave me blinking and squinting again in black unknowing. It will be eternal and this whole existence will find it’s answer in Him.


Therese Martin

The Catholics call her St. Therese of Lisieux, St. Therese of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, and St. Therese The Little Flower. Her patronage is here. There's just way too much info to paste in my post. :)

I just saw a movie called (you guessed it!) "Therese" about the life of this girl. Many things struck me about her story. I was able to ignore most of the Catholic ritual that I didn't understand and let the movie speak to me. Then I saw at the end of the movie that her writings were published! That's obviously where the movie came from. The other nuns found her writings and published them. It is called "The Story of a Soul" it is her posthumous autobiography. They published her writings a year after she died. Now she is a Saint! The seed fell into the ground and died...

I found some great quotes from her fansite.

"I wish to suffer for Love's sake and for Love's sake even to rejoice; thus shall I strew flowers. Not one shall I find without shedding its petals for Thee...and then I will sing, I will always sing, even if I must gather my roses in the very midst of thorns - and the longer and sharper the thorns the sweeter shall be my song. "

"I know of one means only by which to attain to perfection: LOVE. Let us love, since our heart is made for nothing else. Sometimes I seek another word to express Love, but in this land of exile the word which begins and ends is quite incapable of rendering the vibrations of the soul; we must then adhere to this simple and only word: TO LOVE.

But on whom shall our poor heart lavish its love? Who shall be found that is great enough to be the recipient of its treasures? Will a human being know how to comprehend them, and above all will he be able to repay? There exists but one Being capable of comprehending love; it is Jesus; He alone can give us back infinitely more than we shall ever give to him."

She rocks. If you rent the movie be ready for an innocent, clear, pure, and very Catholic experience. But it really set my heart in a gentle state when I just looked past the ritual (not that it's bad ritual, it's just beyond me) I was able to see through her eyes just a little. Her actual face has a LOT of depth. I can put that in my post. :)

What a life it must have been, or must be, as a nun! I've visited the Carmelite Church and one time I sat in front of this monastery in my car debating whether or not I should go and knock on the big iron door. I was having a crisis and I wanted to speak to someone holy. After going over many scenarios in my head and remembering that I didn't know ANYTHING about Catholicism, I drove off.

I still would love to meet a woman who has devoted their entire life to Jesus like Therese or Mother Theresa. Mama Heidi is like that, though she's not a nun. People like that just floor me. It really give me joy knowing that I'll get to meet them in Heaven. Maybe we'll cruise the Milky Way together...

p.s. don't miss the post below this one, I wrote them on the same day...for those of you wanting an update on things.


Faith and Eating Truth

Just when I think I won't get the hang of faith, God shows His faithfulness and opens my eyes even more. In the past it has always been a case of "I know what I want to do, but I am powerless to do it." So I surmised that the only option was to give up, apologize for straying off the path, and change direction. I couldn't see how things could work out. I couldn't see the possibility. But I'm learning that God doesn't necessarily show His glory in possibility but in impossibility.

If I listed all the times I failed to have faith it would take me the rest of my life. It's not regret that I feel but a sense of awe and a new, infinite realm of possibility. "You mean, LORD, it's when I couldn't see around the corners that the most amazing things were sure to happen? When You had led me to that place where I couldn't see one foot in front of me, You had something from Your glory planned especially when I didn't have a clue?"

I marvel at where I might have been if I'd had faith instead of fleeing when the adventure seemed perilous. But, of course, the portion of faith I'd had never could have sustained me through those times. That's how God wanted it. It stings when I think of what I might have missed out on if I had been given more faith in those situations. I believe God kept a measure of faith from me so that my life would progress in His time. I know He has given me more faith now because I can see my faith in my actions...

I have been through some grating times lately. I called out Jesus' name and begged Him to help me. I was so tempted to just give up like I have before, admit defeat and crawl back into God's arms to mourn. But there was something so dark and terrible about the thought of giving up this time; it felt like death or sickness. It felt like leaving God's will. So I cried out and prayed right in the middle of an emotional stage-5 hurricane. Things didn't get better right away but I kept getting confirmations from the Holy Spirit that I was to be steadfast and trust in God no matter what my mind was telling me. I was psychologically spent and my only reaction was to have faith and say very few words. As time went on I saw the Lord at work. I held my tongue and clung to the Lord's promises no matter what my mind yelled at me. There were times when my wild imagination feared the worst, but I was quiet and trusted in God to protect me from the evil one. This amazed me. My blood pressure didn't even increase like it normally did when I imagine such things. Those irrational fears had once been an adrenalized IMAX movie in my head but now they were a scratchy silent horror flick with cheap special effects. As the Truth becomes more vivid to me and it leaves the lies looking as one-dimensional as they actually are. It's only in believing the Truth that we are given the Faith to persevere. And it's only in eating the Truth for every meal and every snack that we get a taste for believing it. This world has been feeding us lies since birth so that we all learn to enjoy them by sprinkling them with a little Truth. But we are what we eat and Truth as merely a seasoning won't do anything but help us swallow pounds of cooked Lies. Go on a spiritual fast from this world by diving into the Word instead of television, movies, news, the internet, or other forms of worldly influence. You'll see what I mean when suddenly the thought of eating the things you used to swallow whole makes you want to vomit.

God really does give us portions of faith according to His will. I may not have the faith to be physically healed from addiction, but I do have the faith that God is healing my heart from a past filled with sin. It's by His merciful attention that we are here today and it's only by Him that we live on. Hallelujah!


Romans Twelve 4-EVER!

Therefore, I urge you brothers, in view of God's mercy...
The more God shows Himself faithful to me, the more I put my faith in Him. He doesn't have to be so merciful! I don't deserve that kind of attention. Only by Jesus Christ am I able to recieve this mercy. So I can be overwhelmingly thankful.

...to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God...
Jesus Christ makes us holy and pleasing to God through His cleansing blood. In view of God's mercies in giving His only begotten Son AND showing Himself faithful to me by being Himself in my life, what else can I do but trust Him? The more we learn about God, the more we understand that He means what He says. As the world become more engulfed in deceit, true integrity becomes almost unbelievable. Only by His lovingkindness am I able to trust Him. So I give over my will for His will.

...this is your spiritual act of worship...
And all I can say is "thank You, Lord God Almighty," with my voice. My spiritual worship is to offer my self, my will, and my freedom to Him. It is good to sing to the Lord, it is better to live for Him. That's the way to say thanks.

...Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world...
Yes, I'm human but there is something different about me. I'm just visiting. I see that now, by God's grace. The pattern of this world is darkness, but I have become a child of Light. By Jesus Christ I am a light in the dark world. Lord, light up all the dark corners so that I may be completely Yours.

...but be transformed by the renewing of your mind...
When the mind believes, the will follows. Fearing the Lord and humbling the self despite what the world may say about me, is the beginning of wisdom. The Holy Spirit puts this fear in me, holy fear that has me falling at the feet of my Master in total dependence. Then He either lifts me up or lets me lay there and cry to Him. I don't lift myself up and become haughty and arrogant in His presence. He has humbled me when I've done that. The more mercy He has toward me, the more He shows Himself to me. He opens my eyes through granting me the wisdom of knowing His character. He is love and this is believed by my mind. That's how love transforms.

...Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—His good, pleasing and perfect will...
"How do I know God's will for my life?" Only after we understand His mercy, offer ourselves completely and by this we stop conforming to the world. Then by offering ourselves we discover true worship, then our minds are renewed and we are transformed through the providing of His wisdom and truth for our minds. After all that we still must test and discern/approve what His will is by holding up to His everlasting Word, who is Jesus Christ and what He said. So when a human says, "I believe it's God's will," the human should study and pray to discern where in the Romans 12 scenerio he/she is. At least, that seems the wise thing to do given the Romans 12 passage.

For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you.

That sums it up, friends. We are part of one Body as members of the church. If ever I get prideful I can trust that God will humble me by giving me the tiniest glimpse of my place in His universe. Compared to Him, we are less than dust. It's only by His merciful favor in Christ Jesus that we have any significance. I pray that my measure of faith may grow into at least the one-hundredth part of a mustard seed. Until then, and even then, to God be the glory for today! He makes my day and your day and He knows how to do what's best with it. Oh, for grace to trust Him more!


"It's what I do."

Last night I saw Kelly Joe Phelps in concert. Listening to him play, you can't tell where the music becomes music and the person becomes a person, the two are pretty much one thing. He's obviously been touring for years doing the independent music scene because I was given one of his cds over three years ago from a customer at a coffee shop.

He's comfortable like Dylan or a well-worn pair of boots, it's almost trancing to get absorbed into the song. Nobody moves except maybe to tap their foot along with his. We all lost ourselve in the blend of vocals, guitar, and lyrics.

After the last song we applauded him out for an encore. He said, "Thank you." Someone shouted out the reply, "No, thank you!" He simply said, "It's what I do," and launched into another song with pictures and soft exclamations.

It's what the man does. Some people would see him as a little more important just because he's a musician, poet, and guitar player. He doesn't appear to see himself that way. I believe I have been held back from music because I feel this huge sense of importance behind it. The calling of the Lord for me is music and what a calling! But really, it's like any other calling except in this day and age the world tempts musicians with idolship. I want to have the Kelly Joe Phelps attitude and say simply, "It's what I do." But I would add, "by and for the Lord."

But I can't say that unless I believe it. The Lord has taught me how to have priorities and depend on Him to provide the means by which to be good at what I do. He is faithful, I don't need to tell you that. He has provided the grace by which I can be confident. If I am faithful by trusting in Him and following His lead He may grant me more gifts to be faithful with and give me the Holy Spirit for my music. Perhaps if I ever go on tour and someone says, "Thank you!" I can say, "Thank God. It's what He does." He's in the business of healing broken people and placing His significance on them. I'm so glad He doesn't empower me to do anything with my music until He knows it's time. Until then I am faithful with what significance He has given me.


God's Names, God's Promises

His names describe Him.

EL: God "mighty, strong, prominent" (Genesis 7:1; Isaiah 9:6)
ELOHIM: God “Creator, Mighty and Strong” (Genesis 17:7; Jeremiah 31:33)
EL SHADDAI: “God Almighty or” "God All Sufficient" (Genesis 49:24; Micah 2:1)
ADONAI: “Lord” (Genesis 15:2; Judges 6:15)
YHWH / YAHWEH / JEHOVAH: “LORD” (Deuteronomy 6:4; Daniel 9:14)
YAHWEH-YIREH: "The LORD will Provide" (Genesis 22:14)
YAHWEH-ROPHE: "The LORD Who Heals" (Isaiah 61:1)
YAHWEH-NISSI: "The LORD Our Banner" (Exodus 17:15)
YAHWEH-M'KADDESH: "The LORD Who Sanctifies" (Leviticus 20:8)
YAHWEH-SHALOM: "The LORD Our Peace" (Judges 6:24)
YAHWEH-ELOHIM: "LORD God" (Genesis 2:4; Psalms 59:5)
YAHWEH-TSIDKENU: "The LORD Our Righteousness” (Jeremiah 33:16)
YAHWEH-ROHI: "The LORD Our Shepherd" (Psalms 23:1)
YAHWEH-SHAMMAH: "The LORD is There” (Ezekiel 48:35)
YAHWEH-SABAOTH: "The LORD of Hosts" (Isaiah 1:24; Psalms 46:7)
EL ELYON: “Most High" (Deuteronomy 26:19)
EL ROI: "God of Seeing" (Genesis 16:13)
EL-OLAM: "Everlasting God" (Psalms 90:1-3)
EL-GIBHOR: “Mighty God” (Isaiah 9:6)

I have been wondering what the bible means when it says, "the name of the LORD." It says that people called on His name, did things in His name, made oaths by His name, etc. I'm like, what IS God's name? Apparently He transcends name and we are only given descriptives.

His name is probably only able to be spoken by Heavenly beings, but the Jews were given the name: I AM or GOD IS which is meant by the Tetragrammaton: YHWH

Because of the Holiness of His name, we cannot speak it. I'm glad for that. I even feel like I am being irreverent posting YHWH here. But I know He sees how I am searching for Him in all this.

I intend to study this website too:
Click here for the 100 names of Jesus