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To order copies of "A Voice" to read and/or to share with others, send check or money order to: Renee' Lovelace 17355 Bear Creek Rd Boulder Creek, CA. 95006
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$3.00 for single copy $12.50 for 5 $20.00 for 10
A VOICE By Renee’ Lovelace All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from Shenanoah Publications. You may contact: reneelovelace@yahoo.com www.shenanoahdesigns.com Copyright © 2008 Shenanoah Publications Dedication I dedicate my first published work to my parents Richard and Bethel Besana. For being the wonderful God given parents who loved each other and the Lord, and helped to mold me into the person I have become in Christ. Through The Expressions Of Her Heart My mother kneels upon her knees before the Lord in prayer she always trusts that he will be there So she goes before the Lord and she petitions for her child the most important thing that she can do she’s done all the while The expressions of her heart in whole not in part would start me on the way to love and healing Through the expressions of her heart I learned that hills can be climbed and that all I need is to choose to be a part Through the expressions of her heart tears could change into the start of something new in our relationship At an early age she taught me about the Savior of the world how he died and then he rose again to reign forever more Though I’ve grown and have departed I walk hand in hand with him so all the prayers that she had said for me were answered in him Through the expressions of her heart the most important part she used to demonstrate the love he came to bring Through the expressions of her heart in whole not in part did start me on the way to love and healing Now the expressions of my heart in whole not in part have me walking in the spirit of his love And all of this made possible by a mother’s love In loving memory of my mother Bethel Jane Besana 1932-2005 A VOICE My beginnings I was born. My mother, still married, had met and slept with my father who was also married. Though they were both married, it was not to each other. Simply put, I was born as a product of sin. How does one defend themselves of such? Both of my parents lived a life of sin, so what hope was there for me, a mere infant? Out of desperation my mother placed me in a foster home, where I lived for almost two years, with no parents to love me and take care of me, or help to mold my purpose in this life. Where does a mere toddler derive hope from in such a situation? From where does one find love and learn love from in such a situation? Somewhere deep inside of me there was a voice, a voice that said, “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has born? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See I have engraved you on the palms of my hands, your walls are ever before me.” And that voice then brought two parents who loved each other into my life to help mold me into the person I was to become. Because that same voice that guided me throughout my life, told me, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.” Not of this world I always knew that there was some purpose for me in life, some higher calling, some path to take that would lead me to somewhere great. Never feeling as though I belonged where I was, but always knowing I had a powerful destiny. The people in this world always made fun of me, taunted and despised me. But that ever-knowing voice would bring me comfort, telling me that I indeed was not of this world, and that the world would hate me because of my heritage, and the One who came before me. This voice was always there. It was the voice that would help me to determine right from wrong. It was the same voice that made me feel guilty when I would do something that would hurt or deceive another. The same still voice that would tell me to have compassion for others and to show love towards them. There were times in my life when I would listen to that voice, as though it were calling me and driving me to go on, as though it gave me inspiration in a powerful almost divine way. No matter my actions I always knew when I was going against that voice. And despite the times I listened, there were more times in my life that I didn’t, knowing full well that consequences would come, yet being driven by a strong will of desire and a need to fulfill that desire. No matter how many walls I ran into, or how many pools of tears I would drown in, or how many scars I would collect along the way, this voice lingered and seemed to all but chase me along the way. This voice was never loud nor thundering. It was always gentle and kind, it was loving and patient, it never forced it’s guidance upon me, but rather persevered in peaceful directions as if to both encourage me and protect me at the same time. When I would listen and act accordingly harm never came to me. I was always a better person for it. And when I acted upon such, I was always esteemed by others as being wise beyond my years. Separation The battle of my own desires was always my enemy, always standing between my friend and I, that voice inside my head, that stirring in my heart, that calm still path that I always knew I was meant to take. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. Now as a grown up adult I am to put childish ways behind me. Somehow I think that if I could only focus on that voice long enough to hear it, to hear what it is saying to me, that maybe I could put my childish ways behind me, that I could be spurred on towards love and good works in my life. But where is that voice? Where did it go? Why doesn’t it speak to me anymore? Did I ignore it too often? Did I not seek it out enough? Did I not want the guidance that it had to offer? Was I too busy following my own desires? Had I cast it aside like a friend left by the wayside? Did I toss it aside as though it were a piece of trash whenever my own desire became a stronger passion? Did it even matter to me that it only sought out the good things in life for me? I believe that instead had become distracted and caught up in life with all the people who would at one point trample upon me, mock me, seek to win me over to their ways and have me join in with them in their passions and lusts and greed. I believe that I had been enticed by my own self seeking pleasures to be immoral, hurtful, and selfish and mean. To be cruel, to be hateful, and to hold grudges, to lash out and to satisfy my own hunger. But oh, in the midst of that life I only found loneliness. My heart cried out when no one was around, it cried out for a friend. A familiar face, someone to love me and be gentle and kind towards me, someone to spur me on towards love and good works. Someone to give me hope, hope that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, hope that there is a better path to take, one that is with meaning, one that will not lead me to loneliness at the end of the road. I don’t know for sure that such a road exists, but I do know that if perhaps one does, the directions to get there must somehow lie in the guidance of the voice of my youth. Despair Oh how hardened and hurt my heart has become. Oh the pain that it has endured. The fortressed walls that my heart hides behind, and all the shattered remnants of pain that lie everywhere in which I step as they work their way through my flesh and embed themselves into my soul. Oh the scars of this weary body, and the weakness of limbs that so travail. And the heaviness of the burdens I carry, and the worry of it all, all of the backbreaking labor that has come from the sweat of my brow and from the stubbornness of my ways. I was thinking all the time how right I was and how wise I had become, but all that had ensued was nothing but a meaningless journey, a journey of my own passions. You say, “but oh you must have learned something along the way,” and as a I ponder on that, yes, yes you are right, I learned a great deal! Shalt thou sit back and marvel at from whence I came, and at all that was taught to me? I will tell you of all I learned. Meaningless Toil I learned how to care for another, only to have my heart broken. I learned how to work hard, only to have earned little. I learned how to strive for success, only to be unsuccessful. I learned how to earn wages that only made me poor. I learned how to laugh only to be laughed at. I learned enjoyment, but only by prostituting myself to another’s pleasures and being cast aside afterwards. I learned how to trust only to be deceived. I learned how to love only to be hated. Now, did I gain from that which I learned? Yes I did. And what have I to show for such gain? Shall I tell you? I shall! I gained pain and I gained loss. And what I have to show for such gain, is fear. I am afraid. “Afraid of what?” you ask. Afraid to love, to trust, to give, to care, to enjoy, to laugh, to feel, and even more than all of these, I am afraid to reach out and to receive. Questioning Is there a release from such fear? Have I not become but refuse and the scum of the earth? Are not my rags so filthy that even a friend would not care to look upon me? Nor care to let me take hold of their hand as an attempt to stand up out of this pit in which I dwell, so that I can take a good look around me in search of any light that might be seen? Is it not light that would be my only comfort in the darkness that I am surrounded by? Without a light to guide me would there be any hope of finding my way out? Oh where, oh where, I ask myself, did the voice that once stood by me in my youth go? If that voice were still there, wouldn’t it provide me with comfort in the place that I am in? Wouldn’t that voice speak to me the truth, with the protection and love that it unendingly tried to provide me with? Wouldn’t it erase any and all record of the wrongs that I have done, and instead lift me up and wash me off and prepare me to go into the brilliance of the light that lies ahead? Would it come to me as I am at this moment, having been made a spectacle of for the whole world to see, having made a fool of myself through being weak, dishonored, cursed, persecuted, brutally treated, ignored, hungry, thirsty and slandered? Shall I dare to call upon that voice? The voice I never even spoke to but rather just revered as my own little secret, the secret that made me feel so special. Shall I dare? And if I dare to call upon that voice while searching through the layers upon layers of sin that has covered up and crowded that secret path in this heart of mine, (which leads to that special place where I was once young and free enough to listen and hear the voice of my beloved and treasured friend, whom I miss so much), and if that voice doesn’t answer me, what shall I do then? Shall I seek it out as though it were a buried treasure hidden deep into the recesses of my soul? As though the keys to my freedom are locked within its mysterious ways of wisdom that I once regarded as foolishness? Or shall I call, cry out and seek it as not to miss the glorious triumphant return of my one and only true friend who had been there from the beginning and whom I now love because of the love that it had first shown me? Is that voice (my friend), really buried that deep? Has that voice gone so far away? Must I now take a journey in search of it? Did I quench its spirit through my sinful ways, or it is nearer than I think, just waiting for me to invite it back in? Revelation If all it took was an invitation for that voice to come back and to have fellowship with me and guide me, I would embrace it. I would tearfully rejoice at its forgiving way and hold fast to all that it had to teach me. I would not only listen, but would act upon the way that it steers me. For no longer as I did in my youth do I regard Guidance as interference. No longer do I regard that which is right as boring and dull. No longer do I regard rules as restrictions. No longer do I regard giving as a weakness. No longer do I believe that my ways are wise. No longer do I want to live with the emptiness and loneliness that not being able to love and to trust brings. I want to be free. I want to be released from the prison of my own desires that has held me captive all these years. Oh how I wish that my walk could be carefree. That there would be a spring in my step, a smile on my face, peace in my soul, thanksgiving in my heart, praises from my lips, sincerity in my eyes and love for those around me. Restoration And what is that I hear? It sounds like a faint knocking at the door of my heart. And as I run towards the door only to find that the doorway has been hidden all this time behind a wall of entangling and practically choking Ivy, I nearly faint, in fear of this blocking the way for that voice that I hear once again to be able to come in as a response to my call, my cry, and my invitation. Oh how will my friend make its way past this fortress as it were, of Ivy? All I need do is answer the door and my friend at the sound of my voice will make its way through all of my entanglements and come in to fellowship with me once again. Now the voice that I once heard as a child has returned unto me, and just as I had believed all along, has placed in my hands the keys that could release me into a fulfilling, prosperous and successful life. All I had to do was believe and confess such belief. And to be cleansed and made pure enough to be able to stand in the light that led the way to the path that I should have taken all along. I only had to pack up my junk, all of the hurtful and bitter things that I had gained in my life, and give them to my friend. Because then, old things in my life could pass away making room for all the things to come, to be new. And once I did that my friend was able to cut away at the wall of Ivy. To throw out all of the dead branches, to prune it back from the once covered, saturated and hidden doorway, so that flowers could bloom and a new scent of sweet smelling fragrance would be breathed into the nostrils of all who passed by. A fragrance that would allure them to my doorstep and peak their curiosity as to why they can now see my house light on, as though it were a beacon shining in the dark to light up their way, welcoming them to be introduced to my visitor and my friend, that they might want to invite my friend to have fellowship with them also. How much more will my friend want of me? And how can I be loyal to my friend and stay in the way that is shown to me? How can I learn to be faithful? Confession and Acceptance Well for starters I’ve come to know this voice and this friend as God, the One and Only. Think of that; this means for me, then, that God has been there all along. His word tells me that before I was formed in my mother’s womb, he knew me and had set me apart for a specific purpose. And he wishes that I be rooted and established in love that I might have the power together with all those in him to grasp how wide, how long, how high and how deep the love of Christ for me is. How shall I grasp the love of Christ? By being rooted and established in love. And how shall I do that? I will meditate on his word day and night being careful to observe all that is written in it, that I might do accordingly. Then I shall be prosperous and successful and firmly rooted and established in love. I shall search the scriptures for examples of Love. Christ Jesus who being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness and being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death, even death on a cross. For God has rescued me from the dominion of darkness and brought me into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom I have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. For God has shown me his love in this, while I was yet a sinner Christ died for me. Even in my filthy rags he held out to me his hand. And with the power of his might he commanded that I come out of my pit of desperation and be separate from the world. And just as he had died for me, I need to die to my old self, to become new. I will now have to lose my life in order to find new life in him. But really when I look at the pain and the loss that I gained through that old life, what have I really to lose? When I really think about it, I survived thus far upon my pride. What has my pride done for me? It has caused me to reject truthfulness, wisdom, instruction and adherence to discipline. But from my friend, I am ready to accept his truth and wisdom his instruction and discipline. The journey ahead I do not know where this will lead me, but although I fear the twists and turns, so long as he is for me, than who can be against me? For if I bare my soul unto another, will they not look at those deepest and most wretched parts of me in judgment? But when I confess all to my friend, there is only a look of love that permeates my soul and comforts and cleanses me from all the unrighteous deeds in my life, so that I may have a peace that not even I can understand and so that I can be forgiven and released to start anew again. Keeping no record of my wrongs is like kneeling before me and washing my feet without regard to where they have been. Is there one person in this world that would even do that, is any one of us willing to touch the filthy feet of another? So with a friend such as that, why then, would I not choose to spend more time fellowshipping with him than all other friends that I might have? For as the fragrant scent of a woman is alluring to a man who is held captive by her beauty, shall I not be drawn to the aroma of a friend who comes bearing deliciously tasting fruit? For if I bear love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness faithfulness, gentleness and self control, is there any law that could hold me for wrong doing? Is there any man who could bear grudges against me, and debtor to take me to court and sue me? With these fruits, would I feel empty and alone, hurt or sad, fearful and afraid, worried and depressed? I think that to be impossible! Those things would have no place in my heart or life, and would not be bound upon my tongue or the fingers of my hand in order to act out, if such fruit grew to a state of ripeness within me. For greater is He that is in me, than he that is in the world, trying to spar the desires of my spirit against the passions and lust of my flesh. “For the battle is mine,” saith the Lord. Authors Notes Throughout my journey in life so many have asked me about the voice. When I tell them that I speak with the Lord they tell me they don’t believe that, because they have never heard his voice. I don’t believe that! I think that they are just not listening. I challenge you to dig deep within your soul, your heart and your mind. Find within its recesses the voice of your youth. The one you may not hear at this time, the one that gave a voice of reason, yet you did not choose to listen to, but has been there all along. Because, He was there at your conception and there at your birth and there through your adolescence and there through all of your hurts. God has a voice, and it lives in you. Prayerfully you will seek it out and find it. Once you do, you will find that you no longer live, but Christ lives in you. He has always been that voice. My prayer for you The Lord laid you on my heart today. I do not know you, but the Lord does. He wanted me to tell you how you are written in the palm prints of his hand. He wanted me to tell you just how much he loves you and how he just wanted you to know that he is there for you and with you in every moment. You are the apple of his eye. You are so special to him, and maybe there have been moments, days, weeks, months or even years where you haven’t felt as though he was there, and times when you haven’t believed in him, but he has always believed in you, and he’s only a reach away any time you choose to draw near to him. I will pray for you continuously, may his blessings shine upon you always.
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