Sometimes

Sometimes you don’t need a word from Jesus; you just need to rest in His presence. Sometimes you don’t need to ask anything of Jesus, you just need to lean back against His chest and listen to His heartbeat. Close your eyes and rest, the enemy dare not attack, you are in the bosom of the King of Kings.

Sometimes your hands become blistered from pulling on the rope in this tug-of-war called life. Stop, and in the name of Jesus call a time-out. Climb onto His lap, take His nail-scarred hand in your hand and trace those fingers that have traced your life. Feel the nail print in the hand that holds your salvation. Close your eyes and rest, the enemy dare not attack, you hold the hand of the God of all creation.

Sometimes people will break your heart. The tears flow like a river and you want to give up. So, give up. Climb onto the lap of Jesus, and lean against His breast. The tears He once shed, He shed for you. The blood he once bled, He bled for you. Listen to his heartbeat. This heart was broken for you and now it beats for you. Close your eyes and rest, the enemy dare not attack, because you are near to the heart of God.

Sometimes you just get tired. It seems the battle will never end. Your arms that have held the shield and swung the sword are weak and hanging limply by your side. You are tired of being a warrior and you long to just be a child. So, become a child again. With childlike faith climb onto the lap of the Savior and feel His lips as they kiss the top of your head. His shield is your hiding place and His sword is your protection. Close your eyes and rest; the enemy dare not attack because you are a child of the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, and the Prince of Peace

Douglas & Deborah Huff

From Down Where The Pavement Ends

Email- pavementendsministry@gmail.com

This Old House

This Old House

On April 16,1978 Deborah and I were married. On that day, by God’s Grace the two of us became one . In 1979 we purchased a house and it has been our home every since . In this house we have laughed and cried, we have fought and made up, we have celebrated and mourned. This is were we live. In this house we raised our family and every inch of it is coated with memories. It is our home, but it is not us, it is not our marriage.

This house greatly reflects our personalities. We are familiar with all the creaks and pops and every crack in the walls. There is contentment to be found in its every flaw and we want no more comfortable place than is our house. But if it is taken from us tonite and if tomorrow we are homeless we will still have each other because what God has joined together nothing can put asunder. You see this house is our home, but it is not us, it is not our marriage.

All over this land there are buildings that people call churches. Some are beautiful brick and mortar structures while others look more like metal warehouses. In these buildings church members have laughed and cried, they have fought and made up and they have celebrated and they have mourned. In these buildings the family of God has grown and they are filled with memories. But if all these buildings were destroyed today and we had no place to gather, we would still gather and we would still worship God. These buildings are not the church, they are not our salvation.

The church is the bride of Christ, Jesus is the bridegroom . He loves the church and He gave His life for her. But when Jesus said,” I will build my Church” He was not talking about brick and mortar. No, He was talking about us. Those of us who are His followers, we are His bride, we are His church. We have been chosen by God to be precious, living stones in the spiritual house that Jesus is building.

One day all these buildings that people call churches will rot and burn, they were never meant to be permanent. However The church that is the bride of Christ is built on a firm foundation and will never fail. Christ loves the church and gave Himself for us, He has sanctified and cleanse us and one day we will be presented to Him as a glorious church, holy and without blemish.

Douglas & Deborah Huff

From Down Where The Pavement Ends