The Apple Tree

So we came home the other night, well after dark only to find our driveway blocked by the enormous apple tree branch which previously canopied our driveway. So we piled out that the end of the drive and maneuvered around the wreckage to get to the house. I was sad. This tree is one of the things which sold me on this house. It stands vigil on the bank of the driveway half way between the road and the house. In the spring it is a mass of tiny white blooms, in the summer the shade is cool in the heat of the day and in the fall the woodland creatures emerge from the surrounding pastures and thickets to feast on its fruit. Its fruit was small & gnarled but the bees, birds and many four legged furry friends had plenty to eat.



This is the third time in 13 years the weather has won in battle with this ancient centurion and I am afraid to say that this last battle may have dealt the fatal blow. Although she still stands guard, her truck is split in half, bear and clean, amputated by the skilled chain saw of my husband. I couldn’t bear to be part of the surgery which took hours to clear from the path on Sunday morning. I was sad. This was a morning I should have been worshipping with my brothers & sisters in Christ. Circumstances being what they were, I was exiled to the house to occasionally glance at the aftermath of Mother Nature, in grief.



I don’t know why I have such as soft spot in my heart for trees, but I do. And this one, just last week had become home to woodpecker! God’s provision abundant in the life of her branches, for us and our neighbors.

Then I began to think about all the things I loved about this house when we bought it. The grape arbor, the beautiful flower gardens, the fruit orchard, the apple tree, the port window in the kitchen and the corner windows on every corner of the house. There was a small greenhouse off of the basement door and the most amazing rock wall flanking both the front and back of the house. But that was 13 years ago. And so much has changed. The orchard has not borne fruit since we set up house here and the apple tree has thrice battled with the eastern blowing winds to have lost a little more each time. The port window remains but it is broken and cannot be repaired or replaced while maintaining its integrity. The greenhouse was gone before we signed the papers, due to “dangerous construction” and each of the corner windows has been replaced with the additional of rooms and space. The grape arbor has been overrun with weeds, the flowers left to do what they will and the rock wall in the back has collapsed under the weight of the weeds. Some of this is directly of my doing but some is not.



I came from a heritage of gardeners who shared with me their love of beautiful foliage and fauna but somehow the genes which allowed me the ability to participate in nature slipped through the sieve. I am not able to put my hands in soil or near the beautiful creation of growth without my skin exploding in massive allergic protestation. It makes me sad to know that something someone else so lovingly created I am unable to carry on. So I look with longing at the rock wall, my heart breaking to repair its damage but knowing full well that one touch of the poison growing around it and I will suffer beyond imagination. . The arbor produces the smallest sampling of the most delectable purple round flavor yet knowing I cannot care for the vine; the taste is small and teasing. And I am left to question. The orchard needs pruned to produce but pruning is not an option because of the camber of the landscape. There is always a reason, not an excuse but a reason.

The widows needed to be eliminated to add to the living space as our family grew. And all of these things are valid but as I pulled into the drive a few days ago, I realized that this house which we have made our home is not the same place we fell in love with when we bought it. Funny thing though, neither are we the same people who bought that home all those years ago. We have changed. We have grown. Then we were a family of three. Now we are a family of five. Our first will be a senior in High school in a few short weeks. The busiest year of her life has commenced and there is no stopping it. The baby will most likely take issue with being called a baby once he steps onto the Kindergarten bus in August. And the middle child is beginning her own adventures as a middle schooler. We have so much to be thankful for but we are different… just as our home is different.



There was a time when I was so passionate about being the proud mistress of this home that I would have given my very life to defend her. Some of that hasn’t changed, I am still proud of this home we have given our children, but I am no longer ferocious in my possession of her. She has served us well. We have so many memories and love that have been made within these walls, but she is no longer my focus.



I know that God is calling us, but much life Abraham, I have no idea where or when we are to go. As I have examined the hearts of each of those in my family, I know that they too are ready to go… whenever…. where ever God calls us. Funny thing… all of the things I loved about this house in the beginning are now gone. And now there is something most assuredly missing from the landscape of this home with the loss of the main branch of the apple tree. I can’t help but think that God has been gently preparing us for the time when he sends us. Or maybe it was just a bad storm again an old tree. Trees fall every day….. right?

Wondering about beauty...

So, the other day Grant & I were sitting at the breakfast table and looking out the window.   Over the crunch of my spoon and the slurp of his soggy one, 


he whispered "Mom!  Look at that cardinal!"  


Sure enough, there was a cardinal couple flitting around the yet dormant tea roses.  The daddy was bright red and very, very busy, prancing around the mama who seemed anything other than interested.  

It reminded me of the spring dance scene in Walt Disney's Bambi, when the Owl talks about spring time making everyone "twitter-pated."  It was a a great way to finish off the boring bowl of granola that morning.  


I watched the cardinal couple for the past few days and it got me to thinking....


About things.....


About the way God created the animal kingdom & how the mating practices of animals are similar to that of men,  but so very different....


As far as I can see, from my very limited and amateur perspective, it seems as if in the animal kingdom, it is them males who are the most beautiful, the most elaborate, the most visual, while the females are muted, demure, & more camouflaged.    


For example, our cardinal on our back wall. 
The lion in the Sahara,

The peacock from Asia, 

The mallard duck in North America.

In all of these couples, it is the males who are the most ornate, decorated, elaborate, for the purpose of attraction, primarily, of their lady counterparts.  They puff up, bristle, flaunt and even flounce to make sure that the ladies see them.


Once they have a mate, that process doesn't end either.  These males use their beauty to ward off danger, to protect their families, to simply grace the world with their beauty, and they embrace their role.... as much as an animal can.


But that's very different than they way we humans operate.  Some where along the way, something got messed up.  


Maybe it was the fall of man.  


You know the story.  Adam & Eve in The Garden.  She is created so that he doesn't have to be alone.  There are some trees for food and some trees that are off limits, per the One who gave them this perfect place to live.  But, perfection isn't enough for them when they think they are missing out on something.  Together, they decide to compromise.  Just one bite.  One for her. One for him and trust is broken.  


So, here is my wonder for the evening.....I wonder about what life was like in The Garden before the bites that broke the trust, and brought the curse.  Was Adam the one who was most concerned with impressing Eve?  Was his stance one of beauty, bristle, flaunt... in order to impress & protect her?  Was she the one who was permitted the peace that comes with not having to impress?  Was she allowed the protection of simply being all that God designed her to be without effort? 


Was it that bite of deception that turned our existence upside down?  There is the report of the curse women & men as well endure because of that culinary choice, but how much is not revealed in the Word?  Without speculating, we simply don't know.  


This is what we do know.  Mankind is certainly different than the animal kingdom when it comes to courtship.  Men are not responsible for attraction at all.  Yes, yes, for the most part men at least are interested in smelling clean, looking nice, & presenting well but nothing to the extreme of their animal counterparts or even women for that matter!  


When Dave & I were dating his ritual for date preparation consisted of little more than a shower, shave &  a clean t-shirt, 20 minutes & done.  Meanwhile, I would begin my preparation for the evening at least an hour or so before his arrival.   It included shower, hair (just right), make-up (coordinating), outfit (perfectly planned for the evening's events), shoes, jewelry, outerwear, perfume, accessories, and the list goes on.... I was exhausted before he even arrived.  One of Dave's favorite sayings then, and even now a dozen years later is "Man, I'm glad I'm a man."


He's got it easy, him & most other men on the planet.  It is women who seem to have assumed the responsibility of primping for the purpose of attraction.  There is little else we use beauty for.  I can't help but wonder if beauty was meant for so much more... more than simply attracting a man.  Proverbs 31 reminds us that "beauty is fleeting" but Psalms talks about "the beauty of the Lord."  


I can't help but wonder if The Fall has even affected our perspective of beauty, it has effected everything else, literally.


I am, however, thankful that I have a husband who loves a blank canvas and I may have created a bit of an animal so to speak.  After years of refining, he now takes longer than me to get ready to go anywhere.  He is "twitter-pated" and I must admit, it is so much easier to relax and be myself..... Blank canvas that I am.  

But maybe that is the way that God intended it to be anyway.  


In the meantime, staying close to the dust of the Rabbi, until I can ask Him myself, 


~Christy 

Ministry Philosophy

This may be completely boring to some, well let's be honest probably every one. HOWEVER....... I had a request from a potential employer to define my ministry philosophy, and while I am very aware of how I operate, I never actually defined it, until now.  


So, in case you are wondering about my ministry philosophy, 
In case you know of someone who is looking to add staff, 
In case you have an open position needing filled, 
In case you are looking for a retreat speaker, 
Or in case you are simply totally board and have nothing better to do with your time ;) 


Here the the Ministry Philosophy of Pastor Christy L. Pittman........ 
*Drum roll, please* (Where is the daughter's boyfriend when you need him?)

My ministry philosophy is not easily defined and while I believe every sliver of my philosophy is founded in scriptures it may not necessarily be welcomed by traditionalists in the church.  While I am quite fine with those critics, I trust that God has created me for a body of believers who will accept and embrace my unique approach to ministry. 

First and foremost, coming to Christ later in life has given me a heart to reach out to the lost and unbelieving.   I think that this must be done in the most practical of ways.  We must first be willing to meet the needs of the lost before we can expect to be given the right to speak to their spiritual condition.  With the exception of one instance in the Gospels, Jesus addresses the physical needs of those he came in contact with before healing their souls. (Matt 9.1-6)  We should take our example of evangelism from our Lord, by meeting the practical needs of those we minister to, i.e., food, shelter, clothing, before we offer them the free gift of salvation. (Matt 25.35-36)   It was by this kind of practical love that Christ reached me when I was a homeless single mother, and it was through His gifts given by His children I understood His love for me.

Along those same lines, we have been created in the image of God for community.  God has always existed in community (John1.1-4) and while this culture teaches something quite different as far as in the importance of independence, the church is to be in this world but not of it.  Therefore, I believe that we are to be the essence of community within the communities’ we serve.  Jesus said we will be known by our love. (John 13.35) We must love one another & love those outside of our doors so that we will be seen as a light in the world we live in.  That is not always an easy task but it is not impossible.

Secondly, as we walk this path of life, we are never alone.  There is always someone who has gone on before us and there is always someone behind us following.  It is the responsibility of each believer to link together with those in front of and behind them in order to navigate this journey we are on, this is the essence of discipleship. (Titus 2.1-9)  It is our responsibility to seek out those in front of us to help guide us through unknown territories, just as it is our responsibility to seek out those who we can help through the areas we have already trod.  Just as God sent Moses back into Egypt to lead Israel out of Egypt, He too will send us back to shadows of our past to help others find the light we have.  (Exodus 14.19) Our lives are a constant journey, and one in which we should be linked together with past and present to ensure an easier passage. (Hebrew 12.1)

Furthermore, this leads straight into the idea of leadership training, and while that idea may scare some it is necessary for continued Kingdom growth.  Regardless of where we are or what our role is in the body of Christ, we must be intentional about the training of further generations of leaders.  We are but merely dust and to assume that we are indispensable in the role, ministry or occupation that God has given us is very dangerous.  Therefore, it is our responsibility to ensure that we are identifying, training, and equipping those who are gifted and passionate to serve the Lord, regardless of where that may happen.  (Acts 6.1-7)

Gifting is the next area of ministry that I simply must discuss.  This is an area in which I feel the church shrinks from because of the mystical air surrounding the Holy Spirit.  First of all, the scripture tells us that upon accepting Christ, each believer is gifted by the Holy Spirit.           (1 Corinthians 12)  Jesus Himself tells us that if we are not diligent in using the gifts he has given us they will be taken from us.  (Matt 25.14-30) Therefore, it is our responsibility to assist believers in identifying their gifts and then utilizing them appropriately, at any age.  The “SHAPE” we find ourselves carved in is an excellent barometer not only for ministry but for learning as well.  By the process of identifying giftedness, we are able to eliminate ineffective leading and replace it with passionate, sold out, energetic servants for the Kingdom.  (1 Corinthians 12.15-17)   However, that is not to say that we shirk responsibility due to lack of specific giftedness.  Servant leadership is a non-negotiable. (John 13.1-17)  Jesus was the ultimate servant leader and we as his body of believers simply must not accept anything less than leading through service ourselves. 

I believe that Jesus took the timeless message of salvation and delivered it to an unbelieving generation in a new & fresh way.  (Matthew 5.17-20)  As the church I believe that we are entering a new era of ministry.  This culture is taking humanity to place we have never been before, if the church intends to remain relevant to this changing culture then we must be willing to do church in a way it may never have been done before.  This can be done without changing the gospel, but what we do need to change is our delivery if we are to reach a new and fluid generation.  We have the unchangeable Christ living within us; He is the one thing that this world needs most desperately.  I think we should make the introduction!

So, That is it.  That is why I embrace being covered in the dust of my Rabbi, and while I don't always get it right, I am staying as close as I possibly can.   

Romans 10.15 "Beautiful are the feet of those who bring the Good News!"

In HIS dust~

Christy

My ugly donkey

It has been a while since my last post, over a month actually.  I was pondering that.  
Is is because I have nothing to say?  Hardly!  
If you are my friend you know that this cannot possibly be true.  So why? 


Well, maybe I am lazy.... 
or busy.... 
or distracted....
whatever the excuse, it is simply disobedience.  


See, I have come to understand that my writing is not for you, or even for me, my hands on the keyboard, thoughts flowing, ideas creating pictures are really in essence, my worship of my Lord.  It is my humble offering of the small talent He has given me that I return to Him in worship.


I have been reading this week through the account of the holy week in the gospel of Mark. What a roller coaster of a week.  When I really stopped to think about the range of emotions and events that occurred during that week, even my toughest week is a walk in the park compared to this week in history, and not just for Jesus but for everyone involved.  


So, to gain some further perspective on the week, I also picked up a Lucado book called, "And the Angels Were Silent."  I am a huge Lucado fan.  When I was a new believer, I was able to more easily understand the Word when explained by the simple average everyday words of this author and teacher.  I read this book early on in my walk and decided to revisit it this week.  And in chapter 7 Lucado talks about "the guy with the donkey."


When Jesus prepares for His triumphal entry into Jerusalem, He send his disciples into town to procure a donkey & colt for His journey according to Mark 11.1-3 which they do.  Here is what is interesting to me, until this point, the scriptures are silent as to Jesus ever traveling by any other means than by foot.  Hmmmm?  This may mean nothing, but it is interesting nonetheless. 


Something else..... the language Jesus uses cites an ancient law that requires a kings subject to hand over anything  that the king may need at his request.  So, essentially, Jesus is claiming to be king.  The response of the donkey's owner is not recorded for us to know, but what we do know is that the Jesus rides the donkey into town.  


So here is my question.... to myself really... have I denied Jesus my donkey when I have neglected to give him the tithe of His great gift to me?  I would like to say I have not, but let's be honest. I have not posted any thoughts here to share with you or Him in over a month.  I have hidden my donkey, maybe because I think it is ugly, or feeble or unworthy.   I could make all kinds of excuses but in reality, I have dug a hole for my small talents because I have been comparing myself to the other servants around me who have been blessed with more than I have.  I am envious.  And the reality of it is ugly.  


God has blessed me.  I am not able to do what others do, my donkey may not be as pretty as yours but it is mine.  And while I cannot do what others do in the Kingdom, for my Lord, they cannot do what I can.  We will not reach the same people.  Our stories will not connect with everyone in the same way.  I must be faithful with what he has given me or I am guilty of wasting my potential, just as I am encouraging others not to waste their own.  The hardest lessons learned are the ones we look into the mirror and say but they are the most powerful as well. 


Lesson for today.... be faithful with what He HAS given me, without concern for what he has given others or what I don't have.  Following the Resurrection  and before the ascension, Jesus Himself tell Peter to mind his own plate so to speak in John  21.22 "Jesus answered, "If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me."


Jesus hasn't called me to follow Angela, or Laura, or Melissa, or Brenda.  He has called me to follow Him and I am following.  As I go, I am worshiping Him, with my meager gift of words which are my personal gift back to Him for all He has given me.


Trying to stay as close as I can to be cover in the dust of The Rabbi~
Christy

Diet... sort of

Have you heard of the "paper diet"?

It is not the kind of diet we have grown accustomed to, but for me it seems even more difficult.  If that's even possible.  This is the process of eradicating paper from your life and your home..... piles, stacks, bundles of paper.  This may not seem like a big deal, but let me tell you it is.  I have recently begun to wonder if the state of the sacks in my home, purse, life are not evidence of the state of my heart.... and that is extremely troubling to me.

These stacks of paper are often nothing more than deposits of debris, I can't seems to let go of.  More realistically, they are issues that I can't, won't, or am unable to deal with... not be because I am unable.  Well, that might not be exactly correct either.  But it is just paper! What is the deal?!

I think there must be something much more deeply rooted in this issue of ... do I dare say... hoarding? I hold onto junk mail that I want to review, catalogs which picture things I covet if I only had the money, letters that require attention at some unknown future time, school paper with stars and stickers, arts, crafts, notes, lists, programs, phone numbers, emails, the list is truly endless.... it goes on, and on, and on, just like my paper. 

This morning something occurred to me while reading the scriptures.  Matthew 6.19 "Don't store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them, and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal them."  Now bear with me, I have read this verse over many times before.... right, right, right, don't be a hoarder.  But it wasn't until this morning that it occurred to me that this goes for my piles too.  I always thought of the command to be for keeping those things that were of value, not my pile.  Who would want to steal my plies of paper?

However, the Word also tells us in Hebrew 12.1 "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us."   To throw off everything....  EVERYTHING.  Even my piles? Even my piles.  See, these pile do not make my life easy.  They hinder me.  They hinder me from being effective, from being productive, from being organized, from doing a lot of the things that God has called me to be.  My piles are a bit of control for me I guess.  If I have these things, these pieces of paper, these reminders then I won't forget. I will be able to handle my life.  But just like sin, these piles masquerade themselves to be good when in actuality, the very thing that appears to be good in my life is my nemesis.  The very thing that I hold onto in an attempt to maintain control is the one thing that spins me out of control.

Control.  That is for God anyway.  That is what I have said.  I will surrender to Him daily who is my Jehovah Jireh, God my Provider.  I have allowed Him access to my life. Given Him Lordship over my heart, but this one area....  Do I really think He cannot handle my piles?  Do I trust Him to provide?  Am I afraid of being less than I am, of not being able, or capable of handling the matters of my family.  Maybe, but isn't that God's job anyway?  He has given me the tools I need in order to be as organized a any "normal" mother of three.  Is any mother of three able to find "normal"?

It is time to let go.  But what if I forget?  What if I never gain read those preschool scribbles on a scrap paper that says "I <3 mom"? What if I forget about the amazing pencil drawing of a ballerina done in the spare time of my 'tweener?  What if I forget about the devotions intently written during Sunday school of my nearly adult daughter?  In the greater scheme of things.... I wonder if it matters?

Praying for God to provide me with the grace, strength, and courage I need to go on a paper diet.  To eradicate unnecessary paper from my life.The first part of the word diet is "die."  Christ has called me to die to self daily.  I guess this issue of clutter is one I need to begin to process through, with God in control, of all of my life.... including the clutter.

Trying to get close enough to be cover in the dust today~
Christy

Young Mother Mary

Tonight's blog post is another monologue, this time form the view point of the young mother of the Christ child.  I pray it is a blessings to you.... This is Mary.

How have I come to this place?  I walk through the streets to the well with this baby, my son, toddling behind me and we are shunned.  

These people are family. They were friends. 

As a child I learned to cook, and weave and sew alongside of them.

As a girl I learned to love Yahweh through his word shared to all of us… collectively ….by our mothers, aunts, grandmothers. 

I learned what it meant to be called “betrothed” next to girls who saw what an honest and good man Joseph was. 

But that was long ago. It seems as if a lifetime has passed by, a river of time and a flood of circumstances carving a gorge of separation between us and them.  And now it is because of this amazing, dark eyed, curly haired, chubby cheeked, blessing from God we are rejected.  The very same condition caused them to celebrate with Elizabeth.  You would think that a baby regardless of his beginning would be reason to rejoice.  He causes ME delight!  When I look into his face, I cannot help but fall helplessly into his gaze. It is there that I am reminded of the looming task of raising, teaching, training him to be a good, man, husband, father.  That is what God has asked of me, a mother. 

I am only rudely reminded of our beginning together when the mask of shame is shoved into my hand by these women & men who refuse to acknowledge the omniscience of Yahweh. 

He is THE Lord!

He parted the sea and Israel cross on dry land. 

He rained manna from heaven and fed a nation for 40 years on the bread of his breath. 

He planted His son in my belly before a man ever crossed the threshold of me.  Why? 

Why did he choose me? 

Why can they not believe? 

Why can I not imagine life without Him?

I wear the mask of shame given me but I know, in the deepest places of my soul,   I am not what they claim. 

I am not deserving of the spit that flies,

the accusations that are hurled,

the names they pin to my life or the life of my son. 

So we… knowing & trusting Jehovah Jirah…. endure. 

We take refuge in the arms of a good man, the husband and father the Lord has provide for us. 

I take refuge in the shelter of The Most High God knowing His plan for us is so much greater than ours for ourselves. 

I take refuge in the peace of trusting the Word of God above the words of man.  And this mask is simply an accessory I refuse to embrace. My Lord and my God defines me not this mask. 

I have given Him my life, and His son…. what more could there be?

This is Rahab

It has been a few weeks since my last post.  I MISSED YOU ALL! However, tonight's post is a bit different.  I wrote a monologue from the view point of Rahab, the Harlot.  I based my rendition of her on what is revealed in the Word... and what is not.  THIS IS MERELY A CREATIVE PIECE written for the means of attempting to understand Biblical characters were actual people, with lives beyond the few verses recorded in the Word.  That being said, please feel free to share your ideas with me about Your idea of Rahab. Without further ado...... This is Rahab.

Walking through the street of this city is exhausting.  They think they know me.  But how could they?  Honestly I don’t even think I know myself. 

I am a daughter, a sister, a niece. 

A neighbor, one nobody wants to acknowledge. 

A business owner, an Inn keeper, and yes, a woman. 

But that is different from who they see when I walk through the streets. 

They see a harlot, a whore draped with beautiful clothing purchased with money their officials, their priests, their husbands paid me in the dark of the night. 

And why shouldn’t I wear the dress & jewels I can afford?  I earned it, both the money and their scorn.  At least I am honest about who I am.  Their contempt no longer bothers me.  Their hypocrisy, however, that is a source of the pain.

I wear scarlet not because they don’t know how I am, but to remind them that I am here, a part of their lives.  Regardless of their hatred, I wear scarlet because of them. 

I wasn’t born into this life.  I once was just like them a babe, a toddler, we played together. 

A girl serving her mother alongside of them … but always beautiful and fragile.  Beauty is my curse and it is that beauty which keeps food on the tables of my family.  It has provided for us handsomely, with this house, this place of rest for travelers. And those travelers are willing to pay for the comfort that only comes in the arms of a woman. 

There is something else that comes with exhausted foreigners, information.  I have been educated far greater than those who sit in the seats of authority, because I listen.  The dark and warm place of intimacy frees hearts and lips to share of wonders and amazements from faraway lands.  This is the priceless part of my life.  I have something no one else in this wretched town has and something they all need.  When demand exceeds supply…. the broker can set the price.

As I walked through the streets today hiding behind the mask of a prostitute, I could not shake the feeling of being followed.  But it was bright daylight and no one in this town, man or woman would dare approach me without the cover of night. 

When I entered the safety of my home in the wall of the city, I was able to take down my mask and loosen the scarlet cord and lift my head high to see the sun raining though the walls that had become my prison.  Basking in the rays of the light, I felt as if arms wrapped around me.  Standing there in the sun and I heard my name spoken sweetly, deep within my depths, spoken as I had never heard it before…. But I was alone.

I stood up straighter, the hair standing up on my neck.  What was this… this feeling of peace surrounding me?  Then the words that came filled my senses like nothing I’d ever experienced, “Rahab, you are my beauty…. unmasked beauty.”

“Your … beauty?”   My words were halting and fearful and… and disbelieving as the flood gates of my heart burst open. 

“Yes.”  His words were so pleasant.  So unlike anything I’d ever heard before!  “People see your beauty on the outside,” He said, “but I want what you hold deep within.  Inside is your life source – your soul – that’s what I’m after.  Will you give it to me?”

And as I knelt in the light before Yahweh, the Lord God I had only ever heard about in the dark, my eyes were opened.   Before Him, I saw that I had value.  I was worth something to Him!  He… wanted… me!  He did not want me for what I could give him but for me alone!  My response was a heart bursting with wanting to give Him something.  To give back to Him who found me with a scarlet cord wrapped around my life, hiding behind a mask of shame.  I will find a way to honor Him, for taking my mask….. I have given Him my life but there must be more….