The Journey

In life, there are so many choices...Where to live, where to attend church, what to eat, what to buy. The list could go on and on and on. The same holds true in your walk with the Lord Most High. You can climb higher heights and reach deeper depths. You can choose to remain in the infant stage never really growing or progressing. Some people even choose just the mediocre. Not too high because that's more responsibility. Not too low because they are afraid of what people might say, but the middle is just right for them. (Or so they think!) There is no middle of the road or riding the fence, though. The Bible tells us He will spew from his mouth those that are lukewarm. It is better to be all in or all out. Joshua 24:15 states, "...choose you this day whom you will serve..." So, you've chosen to walk with the Lord. You've chosen to keep His commandments and you know you will one day join the Heavenly Hosts in singing, "Hosana to the King!&qu

As a woman, getting dressed for the day can be a very meticulous process of matching the shoes, the earrings, even the makeup. It can be a frustrating process if, Heaven forbid, you have put on a few pounds! (Gasp!) It can be rewarding if you have managed to actually drop a few pounds! (Gasp, Gasp!) Getting dressed can literally set the mood for the day or even the entire week. So, I've been pondering if something can be so important to us in the natural, how important must it be in the Spirit realm? Jesus said to His disciples, "Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; nor about the body, what you will put on." Later He tells us the condition of our hearts determines whether or not we are considered "unclean." At an early age, I memorized the armor of God. That is, the helmet of salvation, breastplate of righteousness, belt of Truth, sword of the Spirit, and finally the shoes of peace. My 3-year-old has it down pat! I b

If you have read some of my previous blogs, you know the death of my father had a huge impact on my life. The death of a parent is something you never get over, but you learn to live with. You can heal, you can grow, and then, you can find peace. Today, though, I remember my daddy's life... Ray John Barrington was born December 8, 1945 to Eddie and Clara Barrington. He was the second child, the older was Larry. Dad was born into a blue-collar family; his father a cop, his mother a homemaker. His brother Larry was an accomplished pianist who died at the age of 24 just before graduating from college with 2 degrees. My dad was 15 at the time and he carried the responsibiltiy of that death with him for many years. I think he even believed his parents blamed him in a way. So, my dad grew into a wild, reckless, live-for-the-moment kind of guy with no expectation of a long life, and certainly not a responsible life. God had a much different plan. A plan that would include a w

At this stage in my journey, I am essentially a single mother of two beautiful girls, ages 2 and 3. My estranged husband still lives in Atlanta with no intentions of coming to south Georgia and I, of course, have no intentions of returning to Atlanta which to me is representative of Egypt. We have been separated for what will be two years on July 7th. From that time until this, Jehovah Jireh has taken care of His three girls! When I left Atlanta, I was on maternity leave for our second child. Reesey was 6 weeks old and Carlisle was 21 mos. (WOW! Looking back, I wonder how did I ever have the strength to do that?) I brought with me only what would fit in my Nissan Maxima. My husband went to rehab and we came home, home being my mother's. You might say we entered a rehabilitation program also. As you can imagine, there has been very little financial support and certainly no consistent support. In August, I had to resign from my position at a very large, very reputable gast

Every morning I set aside time for the just the Lord and me. This is the time I take to study and to pray. The time spent varies, but none the less that is when I have an appointment with Jehovah. For the past few months, I have included Beth Moore 's study, 90 Days with the One and Only . This is an awesome look at Jesus' life, death, and of course, resurrection. The author takes only a few chapters and breaks them down verse by verse, parable by parable, scenerio by scenerio creating short, everyday devotions, if you will. It is so intriguing! I'm down to the last 5 or so days of the study. Jesus has risen, and the stone has been rolled away... Luke 24:5 records that "In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, "Why do you look for the living among the dead?" Now the study is focused on those words in the literal sense. Jesus is risen, as well as other dead souls who were walking through the stre

As I look back over the past 15 years, I see so many ways in which I basically prostitued myself to the world. (Of course, I do not mean I was an actual prostitue by trade or by any other means!) I let the world take everything from me. I sometimes gave it freely out of rebellion, out of hurt and frustration, out of the need to feel accepted or part of something. At the end, though, I still felt hurt and frustrated, alone, unfulfilled and now I had an addiction. My drug of choice was alcohol. I would drink for a feeling. Maybe I had a bad day, or maybe I had something to celebrate. I'd end up with a terrible hangover, which of course could only be cured by another drink. Then, I'd drink because I was ashamed I had had so much to drink the night before and I had behaved so badly! Or worse, I couldn't remember what I had done so I had to rely on those drinking with me to piece it back together. I know, stupid, but a very real, a very vicious cycle. I was so asham

Photo by Allef Vinicius A couple of weeks ago, my friend of 24 years lost her dad to cancer. He lived a few short weeks after receiving the terminal diagnosis. Though I grieved for her loss, this death also stirred up so many emotions in me. Upon hearing the news, my initial reaction was the care and concern for her as I was all too familiar with the pain of such a loss. I wanted my experience to be of comfort and help, but what I did not count on was my reaction to the tragedy. Obviously, I knew this would rub a tender spot in my heart. I did not, however, realize that tender spot was still a gaping hole. Has there been no healing over all these years? When life happens, we realize the depths of unresolved matters, unhealed hurts, unforgiveness, brokenness still left unmended, and what is hidden is painfully brought to light. The death of my father was the catalyst of my derailment from my Christian walk.  Just prior to the total upheaval in my life, I had already begun to dabble in

Photo by Kyle Sudu For 7 years, I lived in Atlanta, Georgia, with a population of 416,474 (as per the 2000 census population posted by the Mayor's office.) For the first couple of years, I lived right in the heart of Buckhead, sometimes referred to as the Beverly Hills of the East.  We used to say our front door was a revolving one because there were people coming and going all the time. Late-night bar-closers would stumble in at 8 a.m. for a beer and pregame bantering until the bars and restaurants could legally sell booze again around 12:30 in the afternoon.  Our very non-traditional Sunday mornings would involve the early service at one of the most prestigious churches in Buckhead where the pastor told humorous stories about his weekend adventures including one account of the Willie Nelson concert, he attended the night before. Then, we would walk to the trendy eatery around the corner from our house. Finally, after splitting a $12 burger and paying a tab which was usually aroun

Vlad Bagacian I picture the journey as a bunch of small parts that make up the whole. Each small part contributing to the overall journey that takes us to our destination. In my research, I looked up the definition of the word journey and found that is defined as "a passage or progress from one stage to another."  For the past two years, my prayer has been to be the person God created me to be. I want to be molded into that person so I may fulfill God's purpose for my life in the earth. I have carried much guilt over the enormous amount of time and energy wasted making my own way and doing my own thing. Imagine my surprise when a guest on the Christian talk show I was watching this morning said, "our journey is to become who we were created to be." Yes, and amen! There is nothing that takes God by surprise and He takes what the enemy means for evil and turns it for my good! He restores my soul! Hallelujah! So, where are we headed on our earthly journey? As Chr

Photo by Heidi Fin For some time now, I have wanted to share my journey, but I did not have a forum in which to share it. After reading a friend's blog tonight, I became inspired!  The reason I want to tell my story is that I have found myself surrounded by many people, young and old alike, who are making some of the same mistakes I made. I want to scream, "Stop right there! Do not make a move!" I know that seems a bit silly, and well, dramatic. Having spent my entire childhood and early adult years practically living in the church, I know most, if not all, the excuses used to justify bad behavior while praying for mercy and expecting God to clean up the mess. God is merciful; He does often give us multiple opportunities to get it together. However, the U-turns and the long road back can be downright, literal hell. I have heard it said that "when you have walked twelve miles into the woods, even though you have turned around and headed out, you will still have twel