Truth or TRUTH - which will you listen to?

   I wont accept it!
   I don't care what the internet, or the doctors or anyone else says. I won't accept it.
   No, I haven't got my head in the sand. I can hear what is being said. I understand the evidence and to the world it may look like the truth.
   But there is truth and TRUTH. There is perceived truth and there is God's TRUTH.
   Let me explain.
   Years ago we listened as a Psychiatrist delivered her prognosis. 'If she survives, she will need counselling every week for the rest of her life. She will likely never marry, drive a car, have a job...'
I tuned out. Yes, this was the truth as the doctors understood it. In other words  they were admitting they couldn't really do anything to cure her. They could try and help her live an existence far short of her potential and her destiny.
   However, several months earlier, a young man of God had given us a higher hope. 'Though the bud be bruised there will be a flower'. This was God's promise. After we left the doctor's office we made a choice. We would not accept the doctor's truth. We understood they would operate through that paradigm, and we would work with them where possible.
   But we would cling to the TRUTH. God had promised a flower. We looked for a flower. We prayed for it, waited for it and focused on it.
   Was the road easy? Did we see an instant miracle? No. But God proved himself to be faithful. We saw a beautiful flower. (You can read all about it the in the book 'Though the Bud be Bruised'.)
   Now I find myself in a similar place. Our granddaughter has now had more anaphylactic episodes than I can count over the past five weeks. Twice on Monday ambulances silenced their sirens outside her home. They stabilised her, and then transferred her to hospital.
   Her problem is fickle. One moment it is threatening to shut off her airways. An hour later she can look fine, as though nothing happened. Six hours later it can rebound for the whole process to be repeated.
   Doctors believe she is allergic to her own hormones. It is like trying to avoid an invisible enemy that lurks constantly within you. Medics are trying to get permission from the Governor General to administer drugs that may or may not help her, but come with nasty side affects.
   However, I have a promise for this battle; a simple promise. "Nothing was missing." Before David was made King, the enemy raided his town and took everything; houses, possessions, wives and children. But he pursued the enemy relentlessly. They marched and fought until they were beyond exhaustion. They recovered everything. Everything.
   And as a vile unseen enemy tries to rob, kill and destroy within our family, we will fight. God has promised me victory with 'Nothing missing.' Everything will be recovered.
   I choose to believe the TRUTH. After all Jesus gave His life so we could walk in victory. To accept anything else would be dishonouring to my God.

How much do you love me?

How Much do you love me Lord?

I was told to ask the question and then write. Would He say anything? 

"As vast as the ocean
As high as the sky
As long as the rivers
My love for you knows no bounds
It has no beginning and it has no end
It is unfathomable and un-understandable to your mind.

It is thicker than honey
and freer than air
Flowing like water
It seeps everywhere

My love for you caused me 
To come to the earth
My desire to know you
Drove me to die 
And if that wasn't enough
I would give more
For I want to spend eternity with you
Cause I love you, I love you, I love you."

Yes, He loves me and He loves you!

Midnight prunings promise more fruit

   He woke me at 11 pm. I was in a deep sleep and struggled to pull my thoughts through my confusion.
   'I think we need to chop down the guava tree.'
   'You woke me to tell me that?'
   'We need to take it now!'
   'Now?'
   My husband is a quiet conservative man, and he never gets drunk. My poor foggy brain knew he was trying to explain, but my body was demanding more sleep.
   'It's breaking the roof and I think it will blow down and destroy the paving.'
   With a great effort I calmed my heaving stomach and followed him outside into the howling gale, the remnants of the cyclone that was covering half of Queensland in water. The offending tree was banging into the roof and breaking the sheeting. As the tree swayed in the wild wind, the root mass was heaving the dirt around the trunk. Yes. This tree was doomed to fall.
   So together we went to work. Reluctant to start the chain saw and shatter the neighbourhood's slumber, he found his best pruning saw and a long rope. Unfortunately the tree had multiple trunks, but none of them were more then ten cms through. Each branch stood about 5\five metres high. To avoid the tree falling on the house, he attached a rope to each trunk and sent me down the back yard to pull.
   I cut a glamorous figure, dressed in shortie summer jammies with my bed hair blown by the gale. But, miracle of miracles there was a break in the torrential rain.
   'Pull harder!'
   'I'm trying, I'm trying!' I wrapped the rope around my waist and pulled. I'm willing but no longer fit and forty. But together we conquered the task, rescued the house and retreated to bed as super heroes.
   The next morning our yard looked like a disaster zone. So many trees broken. The bare stumps were a testament to midnight craziness!
   All the trees and shrubs have been cut and chipped, and every stump, no matter how battered, is beginning to sprout new growth. As I walked the yard last week, after writing my blog, I saw the deeper message.
   'Every branch that bears fruit, will be pruned.' 
   The storm had battered our yard, but Steve had then pruned it - dramatically! But life continues. Under the right conditions there will be fruit again, more fruit, better fruit.
   So whilst I feel battered and bruised by many of life's events (See blog below), the Gardener is busily pruning to help me recover, to bring more out of my life. He promises that every branch that bears good fruit will be pruned to be even more fruitful.

   Once again, I rest back in God's arms in peace. He is a good God. His plans can't be destroyed by a few storms. The pruning saw may grab a bit and bring tears to my eyes but I'm so glad He is in charge.
And I'm excited. More fruit is coming. I can't wait.