WoW Archive
Where it all began ... Read a sampling of Lindsey's posts from 2010-2020. These reflections were first shared on her blogs ·lindseylookingup· and ·wovenofwonder·
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when roads bend
Almost without fail, one of the reasons God allows our dreams to die is an intimate one: He is using this place of surrender to draw us closer to Himself. Remember the patriarch Abraham, obediently holding the knife over his beloved son, Isaac? By his actions, Abraham had proven himself loyal to God. Now, the Lord wanted to test the faith of his heart. The precious dream of hope and future God had granted his faithful servant hovered a breath away from its demise. Would Abraham remain open to hearing God’s voice, even in his moment of greatest anguish?
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the wonder of words
Spring tends to stir my creativity, bringing it to full bloom in camaraderie with the bursting leaves and blossoms. Always there are new hopes and possibilities, new projects to consider, new perspectives to freshen daily tasks that have grown worn and stale. Today, I am reflecting again on some persistent questions that have been swirling in my heart: Who am I as a writer? What unique message do I have to share? Who is the audience I can best serve? The answers I’m finding to these questions have surprised and excited me. I see writing as worship, revelation, ministry. It is my gift, given freely by the Lord, which I…
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just a touch
“And the woman was healed from that moment…” It’s a beautiful, hopeful ending to a redemptive story — but what a long, painful road this unnamed woman traveled before realizing herself in it … Twelve years she had carried around in her body this painful, mysterious bleeding — twelve years! Bound by Levitical laws, such bleeding made her unclean — and not only her, but anyone she touched, or anyone who touched anything she touched. Twelve years without human touch — save the painful, mortifying examinations of the endless stream of doctors and so-called “healers” she consulted until her money ran out. Not one could give her what she craved…
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whispers of the fall
I was made for this: eternity. I can’t define it — it slips through my fingers like morning mist when I dare try — but I can feel it. I feel it down deep within the place where knowing settles sure and solid. From the first beat of my fresh-sculpted heart, this longing sparked to life. The moment my eyes fluttered open at the dawn of my awakening, I knew. I was made for this! Carved from the side of Man, himself formed from dust and God-breath, I breathe in the lingering scent of Divine that hangs heavy on the air. I cannot sit still; I am poised here on the…
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Shattering Strongholds (part 2)
Finding Freedom, part 4 Read part 1 here: Releasing Secrets Read part 2 here: Reclaiming Hearts Read part 3 here: Shattering Strongholds In the first part of this message, we learned about the first of three types of open doors that allow the enemy access into our hearts: personal sin. We discovered how making choices to cultivate life rather than death weakens the enemy’s hold on us. We also looked at how the pattern of repentance and belief can begin to demolish enemy strongholds in our hearts. Now we are going to wade into even deeper waters. If you haven’t already done so, I encourage you to pray our Lord’s protection…
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Shattering Strongholds
Finding Freedom, part 3 Read part 1 here: Releasing Secrets Read part 2 here: Reclaiming Hearts Every time I come back to telling this story, I am freshly reminded that I have started somewhere in the middle. I begin to write something and then hesitate, remembering foundations I haven’t laid, connecting tissue that doesn’t connect. For a moment, I doubt myself and my message. Perhaps I should start over … But then I realize this is just part of the messy wildness of it all. Honestly, there aren’t “Five easy steps to finding freedom” or any “Take your life back in an hour and a half” guarantees. There are patterns and…
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Reclaiming Hearts
Finding Freedom, part 2 Read part 1 here: Releasing Secrets For a solid chunk of years, I lived out a faith that was devoid of power. I loved Jesus, but I wanted more than experienced His words to be true. I modeled my lifestyle after much of the church: I tried to be good, I tried not to offend, and I had next to no impact on the world around me. I would’ve been embarrassed to admit that my sincere belief lacked the power to change me, but that was my sad reality. No wonder I was a reluctant evangelist: I had little worth sharing. The problem wasn’t Jesus, though.…
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Releasing Secrets
Finding Freedom, part 1 **The posts in this series include sensitive content. Please read with discretion and preview before sharing with younger readers.** There are some topics within the body of Christ that are rarely touched. They might be seen as too divisive, extreme or eccentric; or they may simply be left alone out of ignorance, or perhaps fear. One of these is the concept of deliverance. Defined simply, deliverance means to rescue, or to set free. In a spiritual context, deliverance is the act of setting a person free from the grip of the enemy, free to love and worship and walk with God in a full and unhindered…
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Never Again
Today is International Holocaust Remembrance Day. About 75 years ago, some 6 million Jews and others whose lives were declared to have no value were exterminated by Nazi Germany. In the decades since the tragedy now known as the Holocaust, “Never again!” has been the rallying cry. Today, less than 100,000 voices remain to testify to their personal experience of surviving these atrocities. Without effort and intentionality, our world stands in danger of allowing their memories to perish with them. Some years back, my pastors sat across their dinner table from an Israeli Messianic Jew, a friend of theirs, and discussed the legacy of the Holocaust. He asked them if…
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She’ll Never Be
She’ll never be an artist, cradling a brush in once-chubby fingers grown slender and strong as she’s honed her craft. She’ll never be a writer, weaving worlds with her words, capturing the everyday and transforming it into splashes of glory upon the page. She’ll never be a doctor, wielding the power of life and death in her hands, carrying healing and hope into each new birthing room and bedside vigil. She’ll never be a gardener, harvesting her yield and tilling soil to begin anew, crumbling clods of earth between callused yet tender fingers. She’ll never be a mama, caressing sleep-flushed cheeks, kissing away bruises and heartaches, snuggling her babies close…
