For All Those Afraid of the Dark

by Tamika Eason on January 22, 2014

In the morning I find the candle, still flickering, still standing. The glow filling the kitchen, family room, hallways.

The one faint light that the oldest lit to fill the house with fragrance, stood watch all night. Before I could stop myself I blew it out, afraid we were mere seconds away from a blazing house.

But the only blaze that came was darkness.

The absence of light is always an assaulting darkness.

Fears breed in darkness, they feed on the inky blackness of doubt and disobedience. Some nights fighting for sleep, is really a fight to forget my failures. How I forgot to follow, failed to die; outright walked out of the will of God.

It’s all in the assaulting. We become abusers of our liberty when we are outside the will of God. We become assaulted by darkness when we are called to be aggravators of light–let your light shine.

This little light of mine, the children sing. The song of babes, those who Jesus Himself says are the very ones welcome to the kingdom of heaven. We are to become babes full of light, love, walking right square in the will of God. 

“And on that day David first delivered this psalm into the hand of Asaph and his brethren, to thank the Lord:

Oh, give thanks to the Lord!

Call upon His name;

Make known His deeds among the peoples (1 Chronicles 16:7-8 NKJV).”

The Ark of Light had returned to the children of Israel. And finally a king was willing to follow Jesus with a whole heart and lead them out of the darkness of their disobedience into the light of God’s truth and grace. We have the same invitation to lead our rebellious hearts from darkness to light, from disobedience to deliverance.

We can sing lyrics of light, light up the night with thanksgiving, make His deeds known in darkness. 

Aggravate the dark, dismiss it with the presence of light. And watch your fears disappear.

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For When We Feel Less Than

by Tamika Eason on January 14, 2014

The young woman in the pew right in front, curls spilling in her face, sticks her hands deep in the wicker offering basket, so no one will see. But I hear the coins hit the bottom like a faint chorus.

I see her head bow some, passing the basket on. Her last mite is hidden in our  well-thought-out bills. And my face burns beneath the Mac makeup.

It’s easy to miss: that the mites were worth a fraction of a cent to men, but to Jesus its pure treasure. He will always treasure the heart that trusts Him with all.

After church I find her nearly crumpled in tears. She won’t make rent come February. Her phone bill–how in the world Lord? And the groceries she whispers, even a loaf of bread is looking bleak.

And the one job she knew she could count on is coming up short.

I smile, because I get to share a secret. The secret that of all of us with our sequins and wallets far-less-than empty skip right over, she is actually the one who is rich. Blessed are the poor…Blessed are those who mourn…Blessed. 

Because you are never in danger of giving God everything and coming up empty. Her actual state is called: Blessed Child, not Broke Child. You. Are. Blessed. Child. 

Good, better, best, Blessed. Blessed is God’s highest good. 

We wipe her beautiful tears. We bless God that He allows us to be a part of His Highest Good. Bearing each other’s burdens is the only thing that strengthens the body of Christ–that brings His Highest Good to our lives.

When we fear that our last is really our last, we find out the richness of God’s love. He never  leaves us last: the last is first; He never lags with His promises; He never leaves us alone.

Never fear…

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The Simple Truth About Fear

by Tamika Eason on January 6, 2014

Trinity pushes a red gymnastics map, three times her size–a  make-shift weight across a gym floor, back and forth, back and forth.Her muscles pulse; she is exerting everything she’s got.

The new year is six days along and I have not stopped whispering the same prayer, it pulses under each breath: Jesus. Keep Him the focal point, and I will not fear. It’s the rhythm that keeps beating, moving me along.

Sunday it dawned fresh on me during worship. Jesus’ pulsing red blood that saved us, is now in us, keeping us alive.

 

 

 

If we are only called as conduits for God’s glory, then the only real work is sticking close. The real human fear is that we are ultimately alone, forced to rely on ourselves for survival. It’s the lie that keeps half of the world battling worry and worthlessness and some form of war.

The simple truth is,  fear is a false sense of our existence. Paul nipped the lie like this: It is no longer I that live, but Christ in me. 

I wander to Acts, the Book filled with all the power. I try to imagine the disciples breathing patterns watching Jesus ascend to glory. Some breathing like a woman in labor, others not more than a sliver of air. But for the words that He left them–wait for my Comfort. In essence wait for me in another form–don’t fear living alone.

I’ve been the wild woman, chasing one crazy death trap after the next, filling my body with everything but the Spirit of God, just trying to survive. But Paul’s words comfort the remembering: there is therefore now no condemnation to those IN Christ Jesus. I’m in because He’s in me.

His loving presence persists in being our protection from any other lie.

Remember, child: you have everything pertaining to life and godliness. I am beating in you, for you. No reason to fear.

 

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