Last night (I started writing this 3/29 and never finished posting it) I went to the Cincinnati House of Prayer and had the priviledge of worshipping the Lord with my teammates, Mike and Sandie. We have a two hour time slot dedicated to adoring the Lord, praising his marvelous works, and giving him our love. The format is a combination of hymns, current worship songs, prayer and spontaneous songs. In one of those Holy Spirit moves, we didn't want to stop, so we kept going for another hour! It is this kind of worship that helps me understand that we will never ever be bored in heaven.

These are some of the spontaneous songs that the Lord put on our hearts last night:

All things are held together by you. (We went to Colossian 1:15-20 and sang through these verses. Later, I found in my Bible that this was an early Christian hymn that Paul had quoted. So we were singing a song that Paul and the others sang!)

Let it [our worship] be a sweet song,
let it be a fragrance,
let it be the sound Your heart desires.

Awaken your bride, awaken your lover

Break the chains
Break the yokes
Set us free to follow you

Your fire breaks the yokes of bondage

Like a jealous lover you will come for us

In the light of your countenance,
We become beautiful

I'm thankful for today, a true day of Rest.

John and I took a long walk at Spring Grove Cemetary, letting the spring breeze and the sunny sky fill us with happiness. As the Song of Songs says, "Come, the winter is past and the springtime is here." You don't really understand what that means until a day like today. Our Bradford pear has spontaneously burst into flower and every bush has buds. Though all seemed dead and hopeless in the winter, each of these plants were doing things unseen that are now appearing. Thank you, God, for life!

Today I've been thinking about some lines from a poem, "Hospital", by Karl Shapiro. A physician had mentioned it at a meeting and it has rattled in my brain since then.

"Kings have lain here and fabulous small Jews
And actresses whose legs were always news"

A humorous way of stating that the hospital is filled with the pompous and the humble, (describing both patients and staff, I might add). In my tiny sphere of influence, I wish to spread hope and humility. Humility to mean "not thinking lower of myself or better of myself than what is true".

Last night we enjoyed hosting a dinner for a group of young adults from Madison, Wisconsin. They are in a 3 year program at Mad-City Training Center (or something like that). My husband made a bountiful Mexican meal and we had good conversation about what God is doing among artists and how to they can grow into more intentional community. They are good folks - kin of the Spirit!

Another recent delight, Monday night at the Cincinnati House of Prayer we had such a wonderful time with the Lord! Steve Eklund was visiting that night, and during an especially anointed period of time, he played his trumpet. It was so beautiful! I have a mini digital recorder, and though not great sound quality, I have been enjoying replaying it.

I can't talk about the last 5 hours at work so far without using expletives, but I can still be thankful for these moments of clarity. Ahh, worship and intimacy...... that is what matters in life. These momentary trials will fade away.

Being a bit sick, I've decided to stay home for the day instead of letting guilt strings bring me to work. John is helping some friends do manly man things and so I am just enjoying the quiet and freedom of an empty house.

I took a leisurely walk with Sarah Klinefelter this morning. A woman to woman chat - it is good!

A poem from February......

Holy Spirit, blow through my wide open spaces.
Reduce me to this:
clean, crisp, Montana-like snow fields.
I want to lose Distraction,
leave behind the spirit of Hurry.
I’m ready for Solitude,
space to think,
time to be.

-2/8/04

Today was a good day....housechurch shared with the Tilden group (from whence we came) with good discussion about what we've been doing in our 2 housechurches and then about the movie "The Passion of the Christ". Since our housechurch just saw this last Thursday, it felt really good to discuss into some nitty-gritty. My wonderful husband helped me to work on this blog, talked to a few friends on the phone, did a little housecleaning, and just chilled.

I've been reading a book by Gary Weins, a teacher out at the Kansas City International House of Prayer, called "Come to Papa: Encountering the Father that Jesus Knew". Since many in my spiritual community have been discussing identity (who are we? what are we made for?), there was a particular passage that really grabbed me. Gary was describing that in our brokenness, we tend to look toward people and things to tell us who we are: parents, jobs, ministries, etc. However, "the yearning that exists within the human heart has a God-shape to it". So only God can tell us who we are. He says, "I am the One who defines you, and the One who imparts to you all your significance." Therefore, He "alone has the power to speak that identity into our hearts. His definition of us is the only one that is real and the only one that really matters."

What would we look like if we could really understand and live in this truth?

I have just returned from a tiny pilgrimage; a journey to one of the spiritual fountains in America – Kansas City, Missouri. I went on this pilgrimage with 2 of my closest friends: Sandie and Beth. Hidden away in Kansas City is the IHOP, International House of Prayer, that has worship and prayer going around the clock 24x7. It was a blessing to be in the presence of God without distraction for 8…12…15 hours at a time!

There are many spiritual gifts that the Father gave me on this pilgrimage, but right now I am thinking about one in particular. Friends, this is difficult to understand because it is “solid meat”. I heard a teaching by a fiery heart, Wes Hall, about a particular verse in Song of Songs 4:6. It may be familiar, “Until the day breaks, until the shadows flee away, I will go my way to the mountain of myrrh, to the hill of frankincense.” Wes talked about how myrrh is a burial spice (one used on Jesus’ body), symbolizing death or suffering. He believes frankincense is a spice symbolic of communion, intimacy, and that there is this beautiful tension between the two that happens in our earthly life as we go back and forth being close to God and feeling separated or hidden or forgotten by God. Yet both intimacy and suffering teach us about our God and draw us toward him (even when we don’t feel him). So, to give you the gist of the teaching, I’ll reinterpret the symbolism of Song of Songs 4:6 in this way, “Until the True Light (Jesus Christ) returns and the shadow of death and sin flees away, I will choose to go my way (the specific daily path chosen for me by the Father) to the mountain of suffering and also the hill of intimacy with Him.”

Although the entire teaching was extremely meaningful to me, I am stuck on the relevance of the myrrh, the suffering, to my own life. There are several areas of my life that feel out of control right now: my husband losing his job, my work schedule requiring more for the next seven months than I want to give, etc. I have struggled with my response to these things by self-pity, frustration, anger – you name it. However, through this teaching, I have begun to understand that there is another way. The willingness to suffer (even though the things making me suffer seem silly in comparison with martyrdom) allows me to be changed, to be transformed in the areas that the Father knows are areas of weakness for me. They bring to light my immaturities, the places in my heart that hinder me from being able to give love and receive love fully – which is the whole purpose of my life.

These two poems are my efforts to grapple with this teaching………………

Myrrh I
The mountain of myrrh: heights of passion that rise with deep suffering.
This passion crushed
releases the sweetest scent.
The scent of suffering
draws the lover.
The Beloved One is enticed
by the fragrance of sacrifice.
He is drawn to the one
who has chosen to be like him,
to wear suffering deep in her heart.
He has been so alone on the mountain.
He has felt forsaken by all.
No one has journeyed to this place –
they were afraid of the heights, afraid of the pain.
The Beloved One is the only one
who has gone his way to
follow the will of the Father.

But now she wears the
bundle of myrrh between her breasts.
In the dark night of death
when her faith is tested,
each submission of her will,
though imperfect and weak,
still releases a tiny scent of suffering
and draws him to rest there.

-Kendra Barrow, 2/28/04

Myrrh II
This is my bottle of perfume,
this is my box of myrrh
that I throw at your feet to be broken open….
my desires, my grief, my lack, my incompleteness
(each day, over and over).

Rise! Rise up, Perfume of my Suffering!
Rise up to the face of
my Beloved.
O Myrrh – give my Beloved this message:
I am willing
to go my way to the mountain of death.

-Kendra Barrow, 2/29/04