The Portion of my Inheritance

About this blog:

It all started with you~firstborn of my daughter, and the longing of my heart for you to really know me.                                      Photo by Renitta

 Photo by Renitta

For my mind retraces the map of time spent with my own grandmother;

Lorrane Isabell Brown—my firstborn’s namesake-                                               

Her~~  steadfast, gentle, always constant. She was my rock, the source of strength in my early years. She was such a tender, quiet spirit and her heart was loving towards her own. I knew she loved me, there was always a feeling of belonging in her presence. She never judged me, even in the silliness of my youth.                        

And yet, there is a sadness from that very precious time with her that stings at the thought of it. The longing in my heart nags at me and regret weighs me down heavy.                        

I wish I knew her more. I wish I could travel back the distance of thirty plus years and steal moments from time to get to know her heart. And I turn it over and over again.

What were her dreams?

What were her joys and disappointments?

What did she love?

But mostly, my heart yearns to know about her relationship with the Lord. I never knew, we never talked about it.                      

But yet, it was the picture hanging crooked on her wall that first drew me in. It was the Lord Jesus, standing at the the door, knocking. And He waited.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me” Revelation 3:20

It hung there for as long as I can remember and these memories are so deeply engraved on my heart that if I were to close my eyes, all these years later, I can still see so vividly every detail of that beloved portrait.

I spent hours in front of that picture, studying every brush stroke, every line and curve of that beautiful man-longing for Him. Even then, He bid me to come.

 

 

 Picture by Photobucket

And the picture of Jesus hanging on the cross with it’s warm yellows and gold hues.  And the blood? Even then it broke a little girl’s heart to look upon it.

And yet another,

The deep, dark blue carpet hung on the whole span of a wall hovering over the sofa. There were the twelve apostles with Jesus on the exact night He was betrayed.

He was there on her walls and her home told these stories of the Lord. There, for all who entered to see, but we never spoke of it. I never knew her heart.

There was so much more to know, so much more to learn from her and it slipped away and I cannot recapture all the lost time.

Therefore, my beloved granddaughter, a few months after you were born I rushed out and purchased a journal with good intentions. I began to collect things; stickers, scriptures, and pictures. I jotted down notes, telling of your great accomplishments, your first words, things you loved to do, things you loved to eat and of our special times together. The journal just kept growing, overflowing, stuffed with the remnants of things passing away. It grew fatter and fatter because there was no time to journal, there were too many other things to do, pressing things. It was left forgotten and time ticked away and years passed and still there was no recording. It just never happened.                                 

And so, this blog is for you, my dear, beautiful girl.

And it’s for your sister . . .

And for your future sisters . . .

And for your future brothers and cousins . .

For your own children. . .  

and for your children’s children . . . .                  

 

    

YOU WILL KNOW!                                                                

 

 

You will know my heart.

You will know the things we did together and all the joys we shared.

You will know the things that I love dearly.

You will know how I love to spend my time and my efforts.

You will know how crazy in love with Jesus I am, that in Him I live and move and have my being.

You will know the victories in Him, both in and through the good and the bad, that His glory is displayed in the lives of His children.

You will know that He is always faithful and with Him there is beauty for ashes.                                 

And at the end of the day when we neatly fold it all up and put it all away, you will know.

You will have a tangible visual to look upon, and through these recordings you can go through life knowing that you are deeply loved—by me, and by your heavenly Father, your Abba-daddy. The King of kings and the Lord of lords loves you and calls you by name.

Yes my love, You. Will. Know.

The Lord has appeared of old to me, saying; “Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love, therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you.  Jeremiah 31:3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I remember it clear.

The exact moment; where I was sitting, the silence that hung thick in the room, the page that was opened in the Holy Scriptures and the flood of emotions that overtook me.

 

I had been begging God for ages.

The desire had been birthed and the search was on and the prayers had been lifted up repeatedly.

 

Could You use me Lord?                                        

I suspected that He didn’t have much to work with and my finite mind could not comprehend Him ever being able to use me at all, and I supposed that I couldn’t be of much use.                                     

Yet still, there was this ache in my heart and I persisted in the asking and in this moment-His perfect timing-it was there. Not much to the average naked eye, but the aching heart gave way to the vision and I finally saw it clear.                       

It would be children.                                 

Hmmmm, I couldn’t see it.

But He declares it outright, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways.” (Is. 55:8) . . . .                                 

And it has been these twenty years that the calling came, and He has directed me, nudged me and many times over, comforted me throughout the journey. His faithfulness has been my hedge and His love has been my guide.                                        

It has not always been easy. The twists and turns and the unexpected can sometimes knock the wind out of you and you are left confused. So I travel once again back to the very first moment, and I ask the same question all over again and He gently pushes me onward.                                        

And the children?                              

They have come in all shapes and sizes, each one with their own beautiful spirits and creative minds and sometimes I marvel and I wonder, Who is teaching who?

 

And some of the little souls have challenged me beyond myself—and I lift them up—yearning to see them though the eyes of Love Himself. Then He takes me on a journey through His precious promises. He presses them deeper into the folds of my heart and the layers are peeled back for a closer look.

 

 

 

I ponder deeply on the “choices” that my Jesus made-for me.               

He chose to leave His Heavenly Home-His majestic throne–for me.

He chose to be born in a dirty, smelly barn–for me.

He chose to be betrayed, mocked and beaten–for me.

He chose to hang and then die on a cross–for me.

He continually chooses to live and intercede–for me.                                    

He purposed love.                                    

It was all about choice for Him. No man could have made Him or forced it upon Him. He chose me.

 

 

 

 

And I also purpose to choose love. For the choices we make in the moment can come back to nip at your heels and we must choose well.                                   

There are many that have impacted me and touched my heart in ways that could have only come through the choice of love. I could speak of each one of them with a bursting heart that always open up the flood gates of my soul.                        

But one stands tall above the others-Jabez like. He is a grown, godly man now and I see him often. And he always seeks me out. His eyes search mine tenderly, and his speech towards me is gentle and loving and there is a knowing between us two. A knowing about the deep, deep love of Jesus that spilled out and continues to flow from His heart onto two imperfect souls.                      

And my Lord, He constantly whispers to me, “Remember, remember, remember!”                  

I cling tight and my heart finds satisfaction in the comforts that His love has offered. As I continue to retrace my steps I can now see the prayers that have been poured out and lifted up relentlessly and the answers that came in His perfect time and His faithfulness to those scanty prayers.                                   

I am so glad that I made the choice to love.                           

As I push forward and encounter the precious little lives that He has now entrusted to me, I have purposed . . . .

I will choose love.                                     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 For you see your calling, brethren, that not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called.  But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty. 1 Cor. 1:26-27