Melissa Runcie | Madabella

Gift of Words

Concluding the REST study in July, I sensed a lingering question hover deep over my heart. A question catching me off guard and stirring anxious thoughts. A question convicting, exposing and compelling me all the same.

“How can I rest in God, unless I know Him?”

Barely six or seven years old, I sat unassumingly in my Sunday school class. The small, narrow room held three long rows of chairs. I was seated to the left side of the middle row. My bible, tucked safely inside its purple quilted cover, rested on my lap.

As the teacher’s voice faded in and out, I remembered my mom explaining God calls us by name and we follow Him. A personal decision to make in my heart before God.

“If you want to expect Jesus as your Savior, we are going to pray. Then I am going to give you this small red bible as a gift.”

Glancing up at my teacher filled me with excitement, as he waved one above his head. I looked down at the corner and saw a box of Bibles, eager to have one for myself.

 

When the time came, I raised my hand and prayed a simple prayer.

Come into my heart dear Jesus.

Beginning at the opposite end of the room, my teacher gave Bibles to children who boldly raised their hand to receive Christ. I leaned forward, looking down mile long line, watching little fingers open and flip through pages.

He’s getting closer!

I held it in my hand, running small fingers against the leather cover. I couldn’t wait to show my mom and tell her how I asked Jesus into my heart. Tiny pages stuck together as I cracked open the book.

My teacher moved past me and I heard the excitement leave his breath. “Oh no. We are all out of Bibles and one person didn’t get one.”

Oh no! I don’t want to give my Bible away!

The room fell silent and we all waited to see who would surrender this little gift first.

I looked down and held my clothed Bible tight. I already have a Bible and this little girl has none.

I raised my hand turned around and gave up the gift I had just received.

The gift of God’s Word.

I have a spiritual heritage of more than 30 years. My mom taught me, through words and action, the character of Jesus. I know Him. Yet, I found myself at the end of the REST Study. Closing my Bible in Revelation trying to imagine walking into the courts of God’s presence, the question remained.

“How can I rest in God, unless I know Him?”

It was in this moment of tension, that RENOWN was purposed in my heart. To start with God’s renown, His name, His fame remembered among the nations. This is how I can find rest in Him. To know Him deeper still.

This week, I’m stepping away from writing to pray and prepare for the study. As a young girl, I handed over a gift to the girl who sat behind me. I hope RENOWN will be just the same, a gift of His Word to you.

See you on October 4^th!

Subscribe now to receive posts via email or rss feeder.

A Time for Fellowship

One moment my daughter, Isabella, is asking him to support her fundraiser, the next we are invited to his house for tea.

It seemed rather old-fashioned to make space for scanning catalogs and pondering purchases in the comforts of home. Bella however, determined to make a sale, readily accepted this invitation.

The kitchen table decked a lavish display of desserts. Truffles, pastries, coconut cakes sprinkled with chocolate were all perfectly set in place. For the girls, chocolate Bon Bons. Breaking bread, sipping freshly brewed hot tea, the art of conversation began to take shape as stories delicately unfolded across the table.

 

In between bites of sweet delicacies we soon forgot the real reason for our visit.

To close the deal.

Small talk aside, we became lost in the mystery and unfamiliarity defining his childhood. Worlds away from our American heritage, we were intrigued at the stories of this man’s spiritual legacy.

One church was built in the middle of the city. Families from scattered villages traveled miles, even hours, to worship and commune before Holy God at this one church. No division of denomination, no separate corner for varied Christian sects. Everyone came together as one body, unified under the roof of this Christian church.

A Christian church in Iran.

We listened to instances of persecution, prejudice and segregation. Experiences when your name either welcomed an invitation or a door slammed shut. Occurrences where religion determined whether worthy to drink at the same table or touch the same food.

Childhood friends forsaking fellowship for the letter of the law. Other friends abandoning pride and prejudice for the spirit of the law.

As details emerged from memories of decades past, I heard a theme woven in these stories lived before my time.

Love.

Love pushing past the barriers of religion.

Love speaking truth.

Love welcoming in.

Love built on a heritage of the Father’s sacrifice and faithfulness.

Sunday marked the beginning of the work week. Friday being the only day off, this was when church held. Friday was Holy Sabbath.

Taxed by the distance of traveling to the city, sacred words collided in the space of home to configure a church. When our friend was a young boy, his father determined church would be every day. In quiet moments, the Book was opened and pages were turned.

He faithfully and consistently read from “In the Beginning” of Genesis to “I am the First and the Last” of Revelation.

Page by page. Precept upon precept. Line upon line. Divine words spoken into a boy whose father loved God. Pages now torn, spilling out of the spine and falling apart tell a story of this father’s sacrifice and faithfulness.

Love was the spiritual birthmark left on our friend. God’s Love.

Pain healed in loving his neighbor.

Persecution overcome in resolving to never persecute.

Segregation exchanged for welcoming, open arms.

“Now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” I Corinthians 13:13

Fellowship shared over hours of talking, clanging dishes and sinking teeth into sweet sugary delights. Together we shared vastly different cultural heritages and spiritual upbringings. Personal triumphs and internal struggles mixed in with sips of tea.

I wonder if the art of conversation has now become a fine art.

In an era when time and solitude are the most sacred asset and busyness trumps togetherness, intimate conversations are being left behind. Technological advances usher in convenience of prayer requests sent through keystrokes, thoughts limited to 140 characters and drive by comments as acceptable affirmations.

In spoken agreement, we concluded nothing can replace the touch of a human. The same physical touch that Jesus used to heal the blind, make the lame walk and cure disease.

We once again found sweet Holy Communion in an unexpected place where a little girl took a risk and the invitation of my husband’s boss was taken.

This fellowship of believers divinely ordained in closing the deal.

Breathless

Sitting at piano, with a heart inclined toward her Savior, her voice composed a melody of praise. Sweet praise songs to One seated on the throne. Singing out in awe of Him.

In the midst of leading worship, she paused.

Skipped notes and deep breaths, her voice gave way, but the refrain danced off fingers, stroking keys while chorus continued in faint voices of those sitting next to me.

Every word seemed to catch in her throat and in this sacred moment, I realized.

Jesus is taking her breath away.

Although leading us, she was escorted into His presence with a quickened heart. Enraptured in a moment of her own, she realized too.

Jesus is breathtaking.

I happened on a scene like this before. I remember it distinctly. The quiet midnight hour, the settling in the room, holy pages turned. Witness to the most glorious worship scene of my mind’s eye.

 

Then I looked and heard the voice of many angels, numbering thousands upon thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand. They encircled the throne and the living creatures and the elders. In a loud voice they sang:

“Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain,
to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength
and honor and glory and praise!”

Again and again, I inhaled this spiritual landscape, catching new glimpses of a brilliance graced.

And I wept.

Jesus took my breath away.

The mystery of this moment etched on the history of tomorrow haunts and entices all the same. Radiant throne of worship, flashes of lightning, rainbow encircled throne.

Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, singing:

“To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb
be praise and honor and glory and power,
for ever and ever!”

The four living creatures said, “Amen,” and the elders fell down and worshiped.

Black words inked on pages brought me face to face with the Lamb. And in paled comparison, I fell down and worshipped. Casting aside every tattered burden, He became my burden. The one I longingly ached to know deeper.

How has Jesus taken your breath away?

Find & Seek :: No. 3

“Find & Seek" features beauty captured that inspires me to seek God's Word.

 

I find.

I seek.

I ponder...

What is beauty?

God saw Israel as despised, abhorred, and cast off. Loathed and abandoned, she was destined for wrath, appointed to death. Yet, He chose her, loved her, adorned her with precious stones and affectionately said "Live!" Now, a royal priesthood, Israel was given to captivating beauty, clothed with exquisite magnificence and lavished with abundant jewels of grace upon grace.

I ponder.

I seek.

I find...

Beauty is this magnificent exchange. 

No longer am I wearing torn, filthy rags of rejection, wrath, death and ashes. He has dressed me with fine gems of acceptance, mercy, kindness, and life. 

It is His beauty that embellishes me. 

Image Credit

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Today's post inspired by:

(S)He Who Has an Ear...

Sitting across from her mom, spoken words rise up to her Savior.

Words of thanksgiving.

Words of adoration.

Words of praise.

Words of supplication.

And then, silence.

After a few moments of stillness, my friend raised an eyebrow, peaking one eye at her daughter to discover her settled in the chair, eyes closed.

Breaking the silence, "Are you done yet?!"

"Mom! I'm listening to God!"

This twelve year old has learned to receive something that only comes in the stillness of sitting before God's feet, under the feathers of His wings on the mercy seat of Christ.

To pray, stop, and listen.

Jesus says, "To him who has an ear, let Him hear."

He wants to speak directly to our hearts.

Pray and listen.

Listen in the words that enter your mind and travel to  your heart.

Listen in the words of a faithful friend.

Listen in the words scanned on sacred, holy pages of His word.

Whenever you find yourself bowed before the Ancient of Days, listen to His cry in the wildnerness of your heart. In a time where noise is more available than silence found being in the moment, listen to Him.

He might surprise you and say something back.

From Left Field

For once, I am at a loss for words. When God’s spirit invades your soul in abundance, little room is left for reckless emotions to take over. The ones that deceive, overwhelm and cause our spirits distress, confusion and despair. When I look to the light of His brilliance and glory, He is all my blinded eyes can see.

And my heart sings a harmony of humility to a melody of thanksgiving.   

 
+

To the one who heard the tension of my walk and desire to be used

To the one who shared struggles of becoming a wife

To the one who must take a step away to hear God speak softly

To the one I prayed for at midnight and knelt beside at noon

To the one who embraced me as a friend with love and hugs and more hugs

To the one who looked past my shortcomings and believed in me to encourage others

To the one who said I love you as I drove by and blew kisses

To the one whose heart’s health is held in His hands

To the one who cries prayers of God’s healing to enter blood and bones

To the one who enlisted me to speak of Beauty to women who feel unworthy

To the one who was ministered by words I do not own

To the one who admitted being angry with God for being a miracle

To the one who listened to my needs and offered to stand in line next to me

To the one who invited me to artistic splendor

To the ones who were encouraged by my gift

To the one who laughed hard over semantics of a name

To the one who feels inadequate for not having it all together as a mama of two littles

To the one who allowed me to cry and collapse on him as he walked in the front door

To the one who prayed for His Spirit to overwhelm

This has indeed been a week of overpowering wonder, and there is still much more in the days to come.   

Above all, to the One who gently placed my fears in front of me with the challenge to face them head on. He is reminding me I am not alone. He is my strength, my anchor, my delight.

Authentic community touched this reserved soul of mine. In hallways and houses. In classrooms and cafes. From embraces to phone conversations.

I am left wondering where left field is, because that is where you came from.

Each name inscribed in my heart, God’s presence in you leaves me standing in awe.

Bathed in His goodness, I am encouraged to take yet one more step of faith toward Him. With shaking knees and sweaty palms, I hold on to all He has in store. It’s going to be good!

What more can I say, except thank you.

How have you been encouraged this week? Who has God placed in your life to encourage today?

 

Today's post inspired by Faith Barista.

Zooming in on Fear

“Hold, on Mama! I’ll get Daddy!”

My daughters are well aware when a spider, bee or insect creeps into my house or invades my personal space, Daddy is the one to call. Deathly afraid, I scream at the top of my lungs if I see this crawling enemy from the corner of my eye. At times, even loud enough for the neighbors to come (yes, this has actually happened).  

As the insect inches closer and closer, my heart races faster and faster to the point at which I think it might stop beating. Running, no sprinting, the furthest distance away from this antagonist is my usual mode of operation. I just can’t take being in the presence of anything that might millimeter its way up my leg, sting with poison or suck my blood.

Some days I scream uncontrollably, panicking help for anyone in earshot to rescue this damsel, only to discover I’m yelling at a black piece of string rolled up to resemble a centipede. Because really, centipedes are in my house. Right.

Fear panics, sends terror into the hearts of its victims, and distorts reality. There is nothing more weakening to a believer than fear.

Fear is paralyzing.

Fear is painful. 

However, zooming in on our fear and boldy taking it head on, disarms the internal weapons that wound. Staring fear straight in the eye, we unleash the invisible chains that imprison and are set free to a world of beauty, enchantment and mystery.

 

 

Have you discovered beauty that comes after facing your fears?

 

Today's post inspired by Photoplay at High Calling Blogs.

 

DIY + Printable: Signed, God

The Author spoke life into existence and penned the perfect love letter.

Your name is woven into every story.

God chose YOU before the foundation of the world to be His own.

You are indeed inscribed on His hands and He loves you with an everlasting love.

LOVE NOTES,
SIGNED GOD

This collection contains 30 messages for you! Be encourage and uplifted reading His promises. According to God, there is no greater power, nourishment or balm to our soul than the very words He breathed. 

 
Instructions: Print cards on cardstock or photo paper, write your name on each note and read a message each day of the month!

Make another set for a friend, placing them in a treasure box, tin container or jar and pass it along when she least expects it!

Download: The link below is to a PDF (1.58 MB) document. If download is slow, right click and select "Save Target As" and save to your computer.

:: CLICK to Download God's Love Notes to You

Design Credit: Using graphics designed by Katie Pertiet, Designer Digitals, I added text given to me by a friend to create these beautiful vintage library cards. Swoon! 

We’ll study God's character of "Chesed" LOVE, in the October RENOWN Online Bible Study Series. More details on the study can be viewed here. To subscribe, click here.

A Tower That Stands

Congratulations to Leah for winning Mandy Steward’s book, Angry Homemade Noodles! For those who didn’t win, you may purchase her book here. Stay tuned Monday for a free gift of encouragement. I hope it blesses you!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The golden rays cast against the morning sky beckoned remembrance. It was one of those sun-kissed mornings. Inhaling deep breath, exhaling the certainty that life is indeed beautiful. The splendor of the moment spawned a reflection of goodness surrounding life. While surveying the wellspring of blessing, an unexpected jolt stirred him.

Emptiness.

Unmistakable goodness settled in perfect arrangement on the surface. Yet, moments of heavier contemplation exposed rubble, debris and broken concrete. Suddenly, remnants of a foundation shaken overshadowed the beauty just pondered.

Remnants of purpose abandoned, love forsaken, fellowship broken.

Overhauling the ruins seemed an endeavor too daunting to succumb to, but mingled with the barren and broken was a beacon of hope.

Thoughts of gifts bestowed on his life were exchanged with a consuming, relentless force invading every thought, motivation and decision. Unsettled and captivated all the same, the only relief was to surrender. Surrender by kneeling down to excavate one jagged piece of concrete at a time.

Flurried, fleeting strokes on keyboard pierced the heaviness of his thoughts. No longer could he run or fight against His strength. From his fingers flowed the expression of relief and unabashed certainty.

“God has a calling on my life.”

Sujo John gave up the battle to taste of victory.

At 8:05 a.m. email was sent to his friend.

Knowing a deep change entered in, Sujo was soon caught up in the duties of the day.

Walking back to his desk, the unimaginable crashed down.

At 8:45 a.m. the building ferociously shook.

Explosion. Screaming. Confusion.  

This unexpected jolt stirred terror and fear into the heart of every person around him. As debris, soot and smoke invaded the room, people stumbled over each other to descend down the 81 flights of stairs.

American Flight 11 had crashed into the building.

 

 Image Credit: Associated Press via Yahoo

“We could see a huge crater below and above us. It was picture of twisted steel all around us with smoke and fire spreading fast...As we made our way to the lowest level it was an unbelievable sight. It was a picture of death and complete destruction. Fuselage from the plane that had crashed, burning materials, shattered glass and bodies all over the courtyard. It was a war zone.” – Sujo John

Making his way down, Sujo witnessed death force it’s way in with ruthless, calloused regard. In the face of brute force, he was compelled by vigor stronger than the apathy of destruction.

Peace.

Heaven is near.

It was time. No longer was he in the unstable building where life hung in the balance.

For a moment, time stood still. Sujo scanned the devastation, worried his wife had not escaped the second tower that jolted the earth. He issued a challenge to everyone huddled around. Reaching in with the undeniable Strength that entered in hours earlier, he yelled, “Call upon the name of Jesus and be saved.

Standing in three feet of debris, no boulders or rubble fell upon him. People desperately cried out, “Jesus!” Their life depended on Him. No hesitation, doubt or refuting the name. They simply cried out with all that was in them.

Exceeding power lies in the name of Jesus.

Twin towers collapsed, sending smoke, boulders and steel in the path of humanity but the name of our Lord Jesus Christ is a strong and mighty tower that will stand forever.

Sujo John not only rose from the ashes and concrete of the World Trade Center, he rose above the broken concrete of his own heart. Terrorists crashed in, but revival responded.

In Memoriam, September 11, 2001

We’ll study several names demonstrating God as a Strong Tower, Midgdal-Oz Shem Adonai, in the October RENOWN Online Bible Study Series. More details on the study can be viewed here. To subscribe, click here.

Disclaimer: I was inspired to write this after watching and reading Sujo’s story. In fictional prose, my intent was to capture the emptiness and renewed faith he experienced the morning of September 11. Learn more about Sujo John.

For You

Before I introduce you to my sweet friend, Mandy Steward, for today's giveaway. I must share that I prayed for you.

This has been a heavy week of recalling my struggle to overcome anger. Perhaps it has been for you, too. I prayed that somehow, even in the brokeness over our own sin, we would be encouraged in the work of Jesus. That I would be able to impart a Christ love for each of you and a hope that only comes from Him. Then I found this video and it touched me and reminded me that we all strive for the same goals, hope for the same things and learn from the trials set before us.

To you, my sister and friend, I echo what Paul said to the Thessalonians, "I continually remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ."

We are never alone..."Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age." - Jesus

Whether your children are three or thirty, be encouraged by this short video and then scroll down to meet Mandy!

Subscribers, click here to view video.