Reflective Thoughts by Chandra Adams

John 20:6-7 reads… Simon Peter therefore also came following him,  and entered the tomb;  and he beheld the linen wrappings lying there, and the face-cloth which had been on His head. Not everything that went into the tomb was raised. Only that which was righteous, that which was needed, was resurrected. What lie there, left behind, was the evidence of transformation. The proof of a life lived and sacrificed.  May we choose to give to God, to bury with Christ, all that we clothe ourselves with... our talents, our gifts, and our hurts and disappointments. In return, no doubt He will resurrect only that which brings life. In verse 17 Jesus told Mary to " stop clinging " to who she knew , that he might become who He was intended to be, in the Father’s hands. May we take heed to His words, and let go of past experiences, expectations, or assumptions, making ready our hearts to receive new life … life more abundantly. May we let go of that which is dead and take hold of new l...

Today is Holy Saturday.  Today represents the “silent” day, the day between death and life. Not life as it was, but life as it was intended … more abundantly. In spite of all of today’s busy preparations and activities, may we include a moment's pause to reflect on His “intentional silence.” It is in the deafening silence that Faith is forged. It is in stillness that decisions are made. Where trust in the unseen challenges the known, … challenges us to lean into hope when all assurance is lost. … to recall the promises and press hard against all loss. … it is in this void that the battle is won.

I lay still on my bed, my consciousness still hanging in that place between wakefulness and dreaming.  I was both an observer and participant in the surreal moment of this dream state. The feeling, ethereal. My thoughts and memory, clear.  In my dream, I looked back over the year and asked the Lord, “What is this?” A year of so much and so little. So much has happened and yet nothing has happened. He responded, “ It is as it was in the days of Noah, ” and I woke.  While not disturbed, neither was I at peace. I knew the matter warranted reflection. I grabbed a pen and pad and began to consider the words and parallels.  I began by copying Matthew 24:37-38, “But as the days of Noah were, so also will the coming of the Son of Man be. For as in the days before the flood, they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day…”   My pen continued across the paper. “We have seen and experienced a nationwide shut down. A global interruption of li...

A FISHING TALE OF ANOTHER KIND  And the Lord said, “Go up, for tomorrow I will deliver them into your hand.”  It had been some time since I had heard a direct word from God in my spirit. After all the prison doors had been shut for months, no sermons or teachings were required, and I found myself overly comfortable with my quiet time nuggets.  But this morning was different. Something was stirring. A curiosity of His thoughts towards His girls behind bars. So I asked. A rare occasion for me. Now don’t get twisted, it is simply my asking that is rare, not our fellowship. Years of singleness has made room for a level of intimacy not unlike an old married couple who finishes each other’s sentences.   My question, “What do you call them?” No doubt that may sound odd, but not to my tribe who recognize it as a constant before each outreach event. I want to know who is in the room. I want to know what themes are present. What pain will be confronted? I want to see them...

The other day I met a gentleman at the gym, for anonymity sake we'll call him "Robert". I had noticed him the day before when he shuffled across the floor of the pool area and entered the hot tub. His physic was lean but showed signs of age. His shoulders were drooped forward, his swim shorts belted high, and his gait slow.  It wasn't my norm, but on this particular Wednesday I had chosen to take advantage of the hot tub after my water aerobics class. In walked Robert. Slowly he descended, holding tightly to the rail. We sat in silence for just a moment or two before he began to ask me questions. At first they were general, non intrusive questions about the water aerobics class he had observed earlier in the week. He liked the music. But then he began to reveal details about himself, unsolicited. I learned he was 79 years old, just about to turn 80, lived alone, and had been coming to this gym for over 14 years. I would have guessed much older, considering the 80 ...

It was 1992 when I walked into my first women’s prison, a requirement of my ministerial studies. I had no idea what to expect and certainly didn’t think I had much to offer these women, many my “senior” who clearly had experienced more “life” than I. Later that evening as the worship service came to a close the women were invited to seek a volunteer out for prayer.  One by one, each woman came asking for prayer not for herself, but for her children. I was undone. Until that very moment, I hadn’t seen the women in white for who they were, mothers, daughters, and sisters. But now I could see them. Their beauty and their wounds. “Blessed are they that see the beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing.” by Pissarro. Prison ministry is not sexy! Well that’s what we say about something that is not easy to sell or promote. It’s not a product everyone wants, or thinks they need, and it doesn’t pull on the heart strings like child trafficking, making funding, and ...

A few years ago I was witness to what could easily be compared to Jesus speaking to his disciples... wisdom was being imparted, disputes being settled, and wrong thinking being confronted, all in the name of ministry leadership.  Where was I?  In the education room, a makeshift chapel, along with 50 women who are serving in ministry under the Chaplain of a mega church behind prison bars. This motley group of 50 are serving on the setup & sound team, intercessory prayer team, and/or the choir. Each week they meet for practice and as time permits, avail themselves to the spiritual influence of Chaplain (name withheld for privacy and security reasons). Why was I there? I have been volunteering at this Unit, on and off, for over 20 years, but a few years ago the Lord invited me to return for a deeper work. When I met Chaplain it was much like what I imagine it was for Elizabeth when she greeted Mary, and the baby leapt. Chaplain kindly referred to me as Es...

Last Thursday I was invited to bring the message for Sunday morning's worship services at a Central Texas Women's Prison. It was short notice, but an invitation I gave no hesitation too. It was an answer to prayer. While I frequent prisons to deliver intense advances, based on the book Captivating  by Stasi & John Eldredge, I had just shared with my team my desire to get in front of women who might not, otherwise commit to attending our 2-3 day events. With a road trip home the next day in front of me, it left only one day to put together a message before getting back on the road to return, I had my work cut out for me, or so I thought. The theme proved easy enough. Freedom! After all, I would be speaking on July 1st. A quick google search (don't hate, it's just technology's improvement to the concordance) of the word Freedom immediately turned up Isaiah 61:1 The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news t...

Cheese and books, a delightful pair! Some of you, like Sniff and Scurry, have raced ahead, scanning content in pursuit of clues to where this blog is headed. Others, having long forgotten the story of two mice and their wee little friends, have furrowed brows, a crooked smile, and are questioning whether to continue on or not. No worries, and no changes required here today. Merely a window of opportunity, a peak inside my maze. Never was there a more apropos word to describe my life, or the season that I'm in, than the word "maze." My life seems to be a series of mishaps, adventures, and findings along an ever changing landscape. But one little thing that never changes is my love for books! I like them by my bed.  I like them near my chair. I like them in my suitcase. I like them everywhere! There's just something about holding the ideas and thoughts of another in my hands. After all, as creative as I was designed to be, there is just so much more available...

Six years ago you saved my life. Two thousand years ago you rescued me. Today you continue to pursue my heart. These are the words that flowed so easily from pen to paper. Today, April 15th, is the anniversary of your sparing my life. But today is different. Something is new. My thoughts are just as reflective as last years, but the words don't come... something has changed. I pick up last year's journal to read... Daddy God,  Happy Anniversary... to you! It's the day you chose to spare my life ... not "me"  for I am nothing with out your purpose(s) to live for.  Thank you for the year I've experienced. I've slept in a car, on the floor, in hotels and on the mission field. I've spent time with family and friends over coffee or a meal. I've met strangers that became friends, and known friends that became strangers. What a blessing to get to serve you! I pick up my pen... Abba Father, On this our anniversary,  I thank you!  fo...

Philippians 4:6 Do not be anxious for anything ... Bring your prayer requests ... Prayer. Petition. Thanksgiving. How many times do I/we get stuck in petition — stressing over what's not mine to do — forgetting the beginning and end... aka "Alpha & Omega" A simple request made known to the one who can move heaven and hell — literally — paired with the acknowledgement of not only of His abilities, but His posture towards us — a receptive heart — is all that stands between anxiousness and answer. Yet, everything contrary to the truth of His nature — who He is, and what He longs to do for you and I — looms outside that open door to redemption — including fear — in the absence of anything , the right now, today, proof. While we wait for the answer, He waits for thanksgiving. Our right now proof awaits, our humble posture.

A butterfly fights against its cocoon,      its own confinement strengthens      instilling fortitude for the journey. Now released      spread your wings and fly      you'll make the distance. A ship fights against its lines      its own anchor protects      assuring safety for a time. Lines untied      set sail for uncharted waters      you've land to take and adventure awaits.

Don't have one? According to my calendar it's not too late! Getting a "word" for the year has become a highly popular year-end activity. Some treat the act similar to the old "name it and claim it" exercise. While others make it a heart matter, passionately pursuing the voice of God. I fall in the latter group. Pressing in to not only obtain direction for the year, but to hear His confirming voice on the completion of the last. This practice has landed two truths for me (actually several more, but for the purpose of this blog we'll stick to just two) First, I don't "hear" my new word until February. This is due in part to truth #2. You see, in spite of the wisdom I've gained from, and about, my word, I still get surprised by a "new" rhema (aka understanding) that comes as each year closes. Whether it's due to the practiced review process or the intentional desire to leave nothing on the table (unreceived), God faithfully...

Intimidation partnered with exhaustion will push you into a cave.  How could this be? How had I gone from living in the light of destiny to denying it's very attainability? I had seen the promised land, the place of outstretched tents, and yet I had chosen retreat. The voice of defeat, more specifically the invitation to quit, was overwhelming and all consuming. Hiding from mission, I was avoiding the push back required to stand firm in faith. I had reached a "crisis of Faith". It is in the darkness that the lies of your enemy blind you from the workings of God. It is this cave-like place where a whispered lie reverberates against the walls of wisdom to overtake your peace. But it is also a whisper that can echo liberty, setting you free. Tone deaf and lost, a spiritual vertigo had over taken me. The sensation of whirling and loss of balance confirmed insecurity. All I could see was defeat. But your people spoke up, raised a helping hand. Your people fed me th...

This morning it was a single word in my email subject line draws me to itself like a bee to honey. Trailblazer.  Over the last decade I've been referred to as a Trailblazer by many. I have even found solace in the ability to put words to my innate nature that is passionate about creating and facilitating change. Some say I'm a natural born leader. That description of me never seemed to fit or settle in as my truth. In fact, evidence seemed to confirm the opposite, I had no "followers" (Mary Kay, Young Living Oils, other MLM ventures I engaged in). Okay, I may have had one here and there. This truth is paramount... more on it later. I recently heard a Sunday morning message on the difference between a natural born leader, and a transitional leader. That principle resonated far more with my inner self. Transition. A period of time, a season. After all, I am a Chaplain. A person of faith who provides pastoral care to those who are in a place, or time, that doesn...

I recently relocated to Houston, and returned to the place of worship where much of my spiritual foundation was developed. I hadn't yet settled into being back, but I certainly was delighted to be in "the house".  It's a familiar place, filled with fond memories, growth rings, and good people. The atmosphere is sweet, filled with love and peace. My spiritual father no longer sits in that end seat on the front row, he's been raised up with Christ and and finds his seat with Jesus. There are new faces all around. There are friends whom I haven't seen in years. It seems I may have been the only one whose aged. But then my eyes catch the faces of the few. The ones who share the memory of the most grueling, yet amazing year of their life, at the feet of Dusty in the School of Ministry. These are those. The ones you'll never forget and those who wouldn't just go through the fiery furnace with you, they'd dust your feet off when you stepped out unscat...

How often have we heard, "Having done all, stand firm." repeated? I take no issue with this powerful Word from the book of Ephesians. In fact, I've relied on, quoted it, and "stood" on it time and again. But have we taken the time to grasp the fullness of, or the writer's intentional use of that three letter word, "all"?  The only fair thing to do is to read backwards and forwards. When reading the words that precede the passage, we are quickly reminded that this is a call to prepare for battle. An invitation  to dress for damage control. Don't believe me? Then note that only one of five elements described actually wields damage. The remainder are for self protection. Reading forward is where we learn that there is more to this "standing" thing than first perceived. After arraying ourselves with defensive garb, we are commanded to pray. Not once, but always! Then challenged to "keep alert", i.e. aware, eyes open. N...

What is it?  It's only the beginning of change ...  mine, theirs, and ours. Yours? #Returntolearn 

Waking in the early hours I found myself pondering the purpose. After shuffling through the thoughts of a dream, the day's events, and the concerns for the events of the next days, I turned my thoughts to purpose. Not mine, but His.   Experience told me this early wake had purpose. I began to pray for several events that would occur over the next 2 days. There was a struggle to go deep or to stay on point with one upcoming event or activity. There was the prison outreach, and those I would meet. The hope to visit and pray with a dear friend recovering from a terrible auto accident. And of course my travel, and the purposed, yet unknown meetings - those I would influence or be influenced by.  The struggle to stay on "point" led me to  Psalm 23, a favorite.  Initially I drilled down to the second half verse 6. 6  And I will dwell in the house of the  Lord  forever. Ah! The idea of a a place, or always in His house brings such relief these days. But ...

Today I woke in familiar territory, a land long forgotten. The scents of assuredness and clarity no longer disguised. Memories surface of treasures and opportunities to be gotten. I had traveled far from intentionality to lands overgrown My bed I made with distraction, acceptance, and indulgence. With these I'm finished, desire has returned and want is known. Stretching out my tent stakes I take possession my life's territory In strength of courage I'll clear the overgrowth that hinders light . It is then that the beauty of the Lord will shine forever on my story. by Chandra (Coach) Adams Psalm 68:5-7