A Mānoa Girl's Bloggie

I love my Jacob sheep, and I love the verses in the Bible that tell of these special animals and how Jacob chose them.

This verse in Genesis reminds me how we’re all chosen by God, designed by Him to be His own and to fulfill the potential He put in us from the very beginning. Sometimes we don’t even realize that we’ve been chosen until we’re grown; but He’s always there, calling us to Him, waiting for us to come to Him and become the people He designed us to be from the beginning of time.

29 Jacob said to him, “You know how I have worked for you and how your livestock has fared under my care. 30 The little you had before I came has increased greatly, and the LORD has blessed you wherever I have been. But now, when may I do something for my own household?”

31 “What shall I give you?” [Laban] asked.
“Don’t give me anything,” Jacob replied. “But if you will do this one thing for me, I will go on tending your flocks and watching over them: 32 Let me go through all your flocks today and remove from them every speckled or spotted sheep, every dark-colored lamb and every spotted or speckled goat. They will be my wages. 33 And my honesty will testify for me in the future, whenever you check on the wages you have paid me.”

I am on a journey. It’s not always easy, and most of the time it’s extremely painful. There are times when I cry out to God saying, “I just can’t do this anymore”, but what I really mean is, right at this moment I don’t feel as if I can do it anymore.” Big difference. This journey means taking a really hard look at those hidden places in my past and learning to become “transformed by the renewing of my mind”.

Some days are far more difficult than others. Some days I’d prefer to keep the illusion, thank you very much. But mostly, I want to know the truth. I don’t keep things hidden on purpose; getting to those inward places takes a lot of hard work. Sometimes I don’t even realize that stuff is hidden ‘way deep inside.

I’ve had friends who decided that the journey is just too hard. They got to a certain point and just stopped, preferring to live with chaos than to face those deep, painful places. I totally understand why they just don’t feel they can continue. But I am a sojourner, a pilgrim. I am not a quitter. There is this God-given flame burning deep inside that keeps me going, that won’t let me quit. Those hidden places within me need God’s light to shine on them, and I know that He will continue to give me beauty for ashes as I walk this sometimes very lonely path.

Angel’s Trumpet flower just starting to open.

Frequently I wake up in the middle of the night, heart beating fast and afraid, either from a nightmare or worry about things going on in my life.

I love this photo of ‘Ukulele, because she reminds me how, just like her blanket, God covers me with His care. It’s a good thing to remember in when it’s dark and quiet save for the too-rapid heartbeat I can hear pounding in my chest.

‘Ukulele sleeps so peacefully in this photo, and though sometimes it takes me awhile to get back to a place of rest like this, eventually I do, picturing God’s comforting care keeping me safe. I listen to ‘Ukulele purring beside me, hear the doves in my aviary cooing in the darkness, and finally sleep comes once again.

What is she thinking, this wistful little girl with the skinned knee? She looks lonely. Her eyes speak volumes, her sadness palpable. If she were to talk, what would she say? Would she say that her life was unbearable much of the time? Or would she hide her pain and say everything was fine?

Today, looking back at her, I know that all along God was with her, fulfilling the potential He put in her from the very beginning. He gave her a future and a hope, even though in later years she had wondered where He was and how she could possibly go on. Then she called to Him, and He answered her and let her know in oh, so many ways, how He had been there with her all the time.

Traces of the wistful little girl remain. But in her heart she hears, “I have loved you with an everlasting love. I will never leave you or forsake you.”

Mokihana, age four, in Mānoa Valley.