The Message touched my heart that night
When as a child I came.
It spoke of truth-
It told of sin-
It said, "I took your blame."

It told me of the great expanse
Dividing God and me.
First came the lie-
Then came the fall-
Now sin was mine to be.

But "God so loved the world", he said;
A plan He had in mind.
It wasn't earned-
It wasn't won-
Its cost indeed sublime.

So I confessed this Gift so free;
This Grace by faith that saves.
I perused His Word-
I wore His Name-
I sang 'Ancient of Days'.

The world told me, "You're much too young
To truly conprehend
A faith so sure-
A faith secure-
To trust in God as 'Friend'."

"Just wait", they said, "when life goes wrong;
Where will your God be then?
You'll call His name-
You'll plead His voice-
Will you still call Him 'Friend'?"

"Will you still bow before the One
Who silently observes
Your calls to heal-
Your cries for help-
To Him will you still serve?" ~selah~

It wasn't long - six years or so,
The time of trial came.
The winds blew hard-
The waves crashed in-
The roar of sin aflame.

My faith was hurled to and fro;
Tossed helpless out to sea.
The sin was dark-
The evil cold-
The night enveloped me.

It's here I should've cast my eyes
On that which firmly stands.
The Rock of Ages-
Solid Ground-
The out-stretched, nail-scarred hands.

So sure I was of going down;
So tired of treading deep.
Instead of faith-
In lieu of grace-
My soul surrendered cheap.

Too shamed to stand before the throne,
So guilty was my sin;
I hid my face-
Concealed disgrace-
I could not go to Him.

That great expanse - that lower world
Was mine to feel and know;
Not as a child-
Nor as naive-
But more a wizened role.

The years, they came, the seasons too-
Now Satan came to say:
"Where was your God?
Where was your 'Friend'?
Whom do you serve today?"

"Where was He when you called His name?
Why did He let you down?
You were His own!
You were His child!
It seems His grace unsound."

One day however, (in God's own time)
The truth I glimpsed somehow.
While in my trial-
Throughout my pain-
When did I humbly bow?

When did I truly call His name
Upon those stormy seas?
I shook with fear-
I shook my fist!
But where were humble pleas?

How did the pride become so great,
Assumed above reproach?
I followed rules-
The pride of man-
Presumption had encroached.

'Salvation by the rules!', I cried,
And other laws that bind.
So firm I was-
So far from blessed-
Caught up in sin so blind.

No wonder I could stand no storm;
The rules damn souls like silt.
My lack of love-
My lust of life-
On sinking sand I built.

So as I bowed in humbled state
I bent my knees in shame.
A heart repentant-
A soul layed bare-
I heard my Lord proclaim:

"Return to your first love, my child;
Come home where Hope once lived.
Embrace the joy.
It can't be bought.
It's free-this Gift I give."

His Message pierced my heart that night
When like a child I came.
He spoke of Truth-
He told of sin-
He said, "I took your blame."

I cried, 'But Lord, what am I worth?
Your rules, I can't keep pace!'
He said, "No child-
Just take my hand-
And welcome home...to Grace."

Written by Ya-ya 1996

"What July Fourth Means to Me" by President Ronald Reagan

reprinted by permission of The Ronald Reagan Foundation.

For one who was born and grew up in the small towns of the
Midwest, there is a special kind of nostalgia about the Fourth of July.

I remember it as a day almost as long-anticipated as Christmas.
This was helped along by the appearance in store windows of all
kinds of fireworks and colorful posters advertising them with vivid
pictures.

No later than the third of July – sometimes earlier – Dad would bring
home what he felt he could afford to see go up in smoke and flame.
We'd count and recount the number of firecrackers, display pieces
and other things and go to bed determined to be up with the sun so
as to offer the first, thunderous notice of the Fourth of July.

I'm afraid we didn't give too much thought to the meaning of the day.
And, yes, there were tragic accidents to mar it, resulting from
careless handling of the fireworks. I'm sure we're better off today
with fireworks largely handled by professionals. Yet there was a thrill
never to be forgotten in seeing a tin can blown 30 feet in the air by a
giant "cracker" – giant meaning it was about 4 inches long.

But enough of nostalgia. Somewhere in our growing up we began to
be aware of the meaning of days and with that awareness came the
birth of patriotism. July Fourth is the birthday of our nation. I believed
as a boy, and believe even more today, that it is the birthday of the
greatest nation on earth.

There is a legend about the day of our nation's birth in the little hall in
Philadelphia, a day on which debate had raged for hours. The men
gathered there were honorable men hard-pressed by a king who
had flouted the very laws they were willing to obey. Even so, to sign
the Declaration of Independence was such an irretrievable act that
the walls resounded with the words "treason, the gallows, the
headsman's axe," and the issue remained in doubt.

The legend says that at that point a man rose and spoke. He is
described as not a young man, but one who had to summon all his
energy for an impassioned plea. He cited the grievances that had
brought them to this moment and finally, his voice falling, he said,
"They may turn every tree into a gallows, every hole into a grave, and
yet the words of that parchment can never die. To the mechanic in
the workshop, they will speak hope; to the slave in the mines,
freedom. Sign that parchment. Sign if the next moment the noose is
around your neck, for that parchment will be the textbook of freedom,
the Bible of the rights of man forever."

He fell back exhausted. The 56 delegates, swept up by his
eloquence, rushed forward and signed that document destined to be
as immortal as a work of man can be. When they turned to thank him
for his timely oratory, he was not to be found, nor could any be found
who knew who he was or how he had come in or gone out through
the locked and guarded doors.

Well, that is the legend. But we do know for certain that 56 men, a
little band so unique we have never seen their like since, had
pledged their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor. Some
gave their lives in the war that followed, most gave their fortunes,
and all preserved their sacred honor.

What manner of men were they? Twenty-four were lawyers and
jurists, 11 were merchants and tradesmen, and nine were farmers.
They were soft-spoken men of means and education; they were not
an unwashed rabble. They had achieved security but valued
freedom more. Their stories have not been told nearly enough.

John Hart was driven from the side of his desperately ill wife. For
more than a year he lived in the forest and in caves before he
returned to find his wife dead, his children vanished, his property
destroyed. He died of exhaustion and a broken heart.

Carter Braxton of Virginia lost all his ships, sold his home to pay his
debts, and died in rags. And so it was with Ellery, Clymer, Hall,
Walton, Gwinnett, Rutledge, Morris, Livingston and Middleton.

Nelson personally urged Washington to fire on his home and destroy
it when it became the headquarters for General Cornwallis. Nelson
died bankrupt.

But they sired a nation that grew from sea to shining sea. Five
million farms, quiet villages, cities that never sleep, 3 million square
miles of forest, field, mountain and desert, 227 million people with a
pedigree that includes the bloodlines of all the world.

In recent years, however, I've come to think of that day as more than
just the birthday of a nation.

It also commemorates the only true philosophical revolution in all
history.

Oh, there have been revolutions before and since ours. But those
revolutions simply exchanged one set of rules for another. Ours was
a revolution that changed the very concept of government.

Let the Fourth of July always be a reminder that here in this land, for
the first time, it was decided that man is born with certain God-given
rights; that government is only a convenience created and managed
by the people, with no powers of its own except those voluntarily
granted to it by the people.

We sometimes forget that great truth, and we never should.

Happy Fourth of July.

Ronald Reagan
President of the United States

The wearing of a headcovering for religious purposes in America is not limited to Muslims. Many Christian women cover their heads either full-time or for prayer. Where does this "tradition" come from?

Biblical Command

The command to wear a headcovering while praying is found in the first book of Corinthians. Many modern Christians do not believe that this command is relevant today, which is why most Christian women do not cover their heads. It is not my intention to try to prove them wrong. Instead, I hope to help fellow Christians better understand the reasons that some Christian women do practice headcovering.

The fact that the Bible says: But every woman that prayeth or prophesieth with her head uncovered dishonoureth her head: for that is even all one as if she were shaven. (1 Cor. 11:5) is enough to convince many Christian ladies to cover their heads while in prayer. That we are told elsewhere in the scriptures to pray without ceasing seems to indicate that Christian women should cover their heads at all times.

I am well aware, having read extensively on the subject, of all of the arguments against covering. However, none of the arguments have convinced me otherwise. To myself and other headcovering Christian ladies, there are no ifs, ands or buts about it. God set it down in His word, and that is good enough for me.

Misconceptions

Some people may assume that Christian women who cover do so because they were raised that way. In fact, all of the Christian women I know who cover were led to do so as adults.

Another misconception about covered ladies (as well as those who dress modestly and/or plainly) is that their husbands, misogynists on a religious power trip, force them to do so. Again, all of the Christian ladies I know who cover, including myself, choose to wear a headcovering of their own free will.

Holier-than-thou?

What if you are a Christian woman who does not cover? You may feel that those of us who do cover think we are holier-than-thou. The opposite is actually true in many cases.

The wearing of a Christian headcovering is a very humbling experience. It was after I outgrew the, "Oh, look at that so-and-so...I would never do that!" phase and started looking closely at myself that I was led to cover my head during prayer.

Salvation Issue?

Most Christian ladies who practice headcovering do not believe it is essential to one's salvation. Salvation is a free gift of God and made possible through the death, burial and resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ. To cover in obedience to scripture is not an attempt to earn one's way into Heaven; and to decide not to cover is not going to send any woman who has accepted God's free gift of salvation to Hell.

The decision to wear a headcovering was not an easy one for me. I always felt that my long blond hair was one of my best features and was reluctant to cover it up. I worried about what people would think. I was scared of being different from the world around me.

But God is faithful and true, and He has used the covering and the testimony it carries to change my life and the lives of people who I encounter in my daily walk through life.

"Women, what if, through an act of willing humility, we were able to partner with Jesus Christ in a new level of kingdom authority—something our male counterparts are excluded from?" Quote taken from the below article linked to from this blog site.

I found this article to be wonderful and wanted to share this woman's thoughts. My prayer: that those women who are interested in what others have to say about this topic will find their sisters in Christ, world wide, are revisiting this issue, once again. May you be blessed by our Father as you read of your sister's story.
****************************************************************************************************************

Weapon of war?
for your consideration: headcoverings
by Sandra Higley.

Editor's note: While this was my personal experience, I do not mean to imply that this is the only legitimate interpretation of 1 Cor. 11:3-16. Rather, we offer it as an interesting possibility on a frequently overlooked prayer passage.

“Hey, sis, I want to tell you a true story” my brother, Chuck, raised his voice in an attempt to be heard over the rush of wind coming through the open windows of his vehicle. My friend, Sharon, and I had spent the last several days prayerwalking some strategic strongholds in the area. Now my brother, a missionary to Indonesia, was chauffeuring us to the Yogykarta airport where we would depart for Bali on the second leg of our 1997 10/40 Window prayer journey.


The oppressive heat and humidity made closing the windows impractical, so I nodded and strained to hear what he wanted to share. Sharon sat in the seat behind us taking in the Indonesian countryside as it hurtled by. Sharon is almost completely deaf. She wears hearing aids and can hear only if she is looking at you straight on, reading lips as she goes. Maybe because of that, the Lord has given her an incredible ability to hear with her spiritual ears, making her an invaluable intercessor and prayer partner. Now sitting in the back seat, wind roaring through the car and unable to see our faces, her participation in the conversation was impossible.

“There was this preacher,” my brother continued, “who was invited to speak at some special meetings. After he finished, some of the men from the host church asked him to come with them to pray for a woman who was demonized. She was confined to her bed and in a serious state. The men explained that they had tried again and again to rebuke and cast out the demons afflicting the woman but with no success. The preacher entered her room where she thrashed and convulsed on the bed before him. He looked at her, sized up the situation, plopped a handkerchief on her head and then promptly and with little effort commanded the demons to leave in Jesus’ Name. Instantly the demons responded, leaving the woman sane and lucid.

“’What happened?’ the men asked incredulously. ‘Why did the demons leave so quickly for you now when we prayed with no results?’

“The preacher opened his Bible to 1 Corinthians 11 and began to share his understanding of the passage. ‘Man’s head represents Christ. A woman represents the glory of mankind* (v. 7). When I covered her head, I was symbolically covering the glory of mankind so that the glory of Christ would be pre-eminent. I did this to demonstrate to the angels Whose authority we were representing (v. 10).’

“Sis,” my brother leaned closer to me to emphasize his point, “it’s not just the elect angels who are watching, it’s the fallen ones as well.”

I glanced back at Sharon but she continued to look out the window. I let my brother’s words soak in. I had grown up in a church with a strong head covering tradition. Many variations of interpretations were held even within that small group of believers, but the general consensus was that headcoverings were to be worn as an expression of submission to husbands. This opened up a stream of questions: Were single women exempt? Were they only to be worn if we prayed out loud? What if men weren’t in the room?

I was aware that other church traditions taught that this passage was strictly cultural and that it referred to a woman having a shaved head or short hair instead of long hair. But those interpretations left questions of their own.

With endless arguments over what was proper and mandates handed down based on unclear teaching of the passage, headcoverings—for me at least—had as much appeal and felt as oppressive as an Islamic burka. When I started attending a fellowship of believers who left the interpretation up to each woman individually, I opted to ditch the doily. It really was hard to have your hair look nice wearing that crazy thing! But this story my brother was telling me rang true. The theological explanation made sense—in fact, I found it beautiful! I knew I couldn’t dismiss his words without praying about them first.

Sharon and I had been fasting and seeking the Lord about this prayer journey for almost a year in advance of our departure. During that time we heard from the Lord that we would receive instructions and weapons of warfare as we went along. We were not to make hotel reservations or (with only a few exceptions) plan in advance where we would pray. The Lord would show us each step. As two women alone on the other side of the world (we only stayed with my brother one night) and with no one aware of our itinerary, it was the most daringly intense but exciting thing I’d ever experienced. I was anxious to talk to Sharon about this new development—was the Lord trying to tell us something through my brother?

Can You Hear Me Now?

It wasn’t until we settled in ours seats on the plane to Bali that Sharon and I got to talk. “Sharon, I have to tell you what my brother shared on the way to the airport.” I faced Sharon to make sure that she could clearly see my lips and understand my words.

She stopped me before I could say more. “I already know what he said! I couldn’t believe that I could actually hear him from the back seat. When I heard what he was talking about, I got mad. I turned my hearing aids off so I wouldn’t have to listen!” Sharon was from a similar church tradition as I, with an even stronger aversion to head coverings. She didn’t want any part in the conversation.

“I turned my hearing aids off,” Sharon repeated, “but, I could still hear him! After that, I figured it was something the Lord wanted me to hear, so I paid attention.”

It was one of those moments when you know you’ve received marching orders. After we got settled in a hotel, we took off looking for something we could use as a headcovering. If this truly was from the Lord, we could waste no time. The streets were lined with shops filled with small idols, fetishes, incense and altars. We found a length of beautiful batik cloth that we cut into two triangles—one for each of us.

Armed and Ready

The scarves were hot and bothersome, and we got a lot of really odd looks. But we were convinced that the Lord had given us specific instructions for the battle ahead.

Over the next few days we prayerwalked and took communion declaring Jesus Christ as Lord at many Hindu high places including the mother temple at Besakih. Wearing our scarves everywhere we went, we had unbelievable liberty to war in the Spirit at some major sites of spiritual importance. But we didn’t understand the significance of our newly acquired cloth weapons until we came to the Meditation Caves at Ubud.

Unseen Warriors?

As we approached the compound, we noticed signs posted declaring that this was a most holy site to them. Women were forbidden to enter during the time of their monthly cycle. As people came onto the grounds, they were handed a length of cloth—just like the one we had purchased outside our hotel. Everyone (men and women) were instructed to wrap the material around their hips like a skirt. We asked our guide about the significance of these cloths.

“This is a sarong,” he pointed to the cloth wrapped around his own frame. “As you enter a sacred area, you must wrap yourself in it. This part (here he indicated his loins) must be covered before you can approach the gods. The evil of man must be covered so that only man’s goodness is visible to the gods.”

As we stepped up to the gate, headcoverings firmly in place, we were allowed to pass without being handed a sarong—almost as if we were invisible! Shocked, we began to prayerwalk the area in full view of their holy men and proceeded to defile the altar with Communion elements. The three idols enshrined there—large phallus-shaped stones—were representations of Shiva-Linga, their demonic counterfeit of the Trinity.

Later as Sharon and I compared notes, the enormity of the symbolism gripped us. Led by the Spirit, we had unknowingly cut up what they used to cover the imperfections of mankind so that mankind would “look good” and used it to do just the opposite: cover the glory of mankind so that Christ’s glory would be revealed! We were stunned and thankful.

It’s Not Over ‘til It’s Over

Soon it was time to leave the island. We were anxious to lose the uncomfortable scarves and break our fast. After 10 days of a God-inspired dried-fruit-and-nuts-only diet, even airline food seemed appealing!

But as we found our seats, Sharon and I both felt prompted to wear the scarves and continue the fast during the 19-hour flight to Los Angeles. We weren’t sure why that was necessary until the occupant of the seat next to us took her place. She turned out to be a New Age shaman who had visited a tiny village on Java to channel spirits so she could return to the States to “cure” AIDS. The battle in the heavenlies continued!

What If?
I’m not legalistic. I believe I have incredible freedom in the Spirit, and I don’t wear a headcovering every time I pray. But when I’m battling the kingdom of darkness, I don’t forget that weapon of warfare I discovered in Indonesia—I have a scarf tucked neatly inside my purse in case I need it.

Consider: What if we’ve overlooked and misunderstood a powerful tool for battling the gates of hell? What if—just what if—this simple demonstration of declaring who is in authority to the angelic realms would unleash fresh power to do serious, irreparable damage to the enemy’s camp? Women, what if, through an act of willing humility, we were able to partner with Jesus Christ in a new level of kingdom authority—something our male counterparts are excluded from? What if?!

Headcovering, anyone?

While maintaining that a relationship with Christ is most important, I find obedience to Him in everyday living is derived from a heart devoted to Him. For this reason I endeavor to maintain feminine Biblical practices which includes, but is not limited to, the practice of headcovering.

Sites offering quality headcovering for today's Christian woman:
Garlands of Grace
Plain-n-Simple Headcoverings
Headcoverings by Devorah
Modesty Veils **Catholic veils/mantillas**
Kol-Bo Boutique

Could be both! If you've looked at the playlists and you've seen some of the same songs by the same artists in differing playlists, you've stumbled upon my genre quandry. Much of the music crosses genre lines therefore, in all fairness to the artist and listener alike the uploaded song may appear on more than one list.

Example: "Alpha & Omega" by the Gaither Vocal Band: you should find it among "The Heart & Soul of Praise & Worship". But if your musical ear appreciates four part harmony quartets, you'll also find it listed under "Gospel Quartets".

There is one other thing I wish to point out and that's the artists themselves. A particular song may be recorded by one artist and yet be recorded by another, and sound just as good if not better! If there is a duplicate title song and artist within any one playlist please contact me so I can remove the duplicate. Remember, same song - same artist. If the artist is different and I liked the piece? It's there intentionally and I meant to share it with you.

Music is being added to the playlists weekly so don't forget to check back for updates. As always, enjoy, share, and use integrity with regards to the artist's copyrighted material.

B'Shem Y'Shua
Carri