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BetsyForsyth
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Name: Betsy
Gender: Female
Interests: art, photography, India, missions, rain, and being free
Expertise: what is this expertise of which you speak
Occupation: student
Message: message me
Member Since:
9/17/2006
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| Let me share with you what God has done...
I have not had a lot of money lately and sometimes I would go to work
and, not having packed a lunch, did not really have the money to go and
get some food. The Lord always provided for me though. Somebody would
bring food for some reason or my boss had an extra sandwich (when he
had no idea that I didn't have a lunch). I was always fed. Over
Christmas I felt like the Lord was literally reaching down his hand
from heaven and putting food in my mouth.
well, last Saturday I
realized that I did not have any money for breakfast the following
morning at church and was not able to have lunch because I had to go to
work right afterwards, meaning that I would be unable to eat till the
following day around 6:00pm. But the thought occurred to me Saturday
night, "I wonder how God is going to feed me." Sunday I go to church
and my friend Abby hands me a envelope from her three youngest siblings
(a poor family of ten). The three kids had each written me a little
note and had placed three dollars inside the envelope. When I told Abby, I just cried.
God
used this incident to show my how sovereignly in control of my life he
was. How he cares for me and that it was totally up to him whether I
eat or not, TOTALLY his decision. God used this as a gentle rebuke into areas of my life that I thought He was incapable or uncaring. He is our
Father and deeply loves and cares for me and can move mountains for his children. | | |
| Rag Dolls
The Taj Mahal reaches far down
into that impregnable land
to beat the little bangles against itself
and watch the mothers quake.
My playmates our other brothel rags,
dolls, worn out things:
Enjoyed by the masses
and degraded by more.
Mass produced toys dressed in soiled silk,
malfunctioning pearls
in a society built of
plexi and plastic.
We are Jerusalem, old and new:
Ground up in the mouths of men,
settling as gold dust
on the furniture of God.
to the nearly twenty-one million girls in my lifetime who are sold into prostitution in India. My heart aches for you and earnestly desires that you will find rest and healing in the arms of Christ.
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| so, I've finally figured out what I am going to do with the rest of my life: option #1: find a husband and live in a yurk (mongolian teepee) 
option #2: find a caravan of Christians gypies and live with them the rest of my life 
what do you guys think? | | |
| My little life is strange...it flips this way and that, like a lost feather in wind. A few days ago I had once again let fear grip my frail heart concerning my future. The fears bubbled through my nerves and heart and up into my eyes as I was in bed that evening. God, thankfully, was right there holding me once again. I used to think this question of a friend and I: "What is to become of us?" That evening I realized the question had recently become: "What will become of me?" God used scripture to sustain my weak heart. He cares, He loves. He does not stand afar off from his children. This little feather is being used and directed, even blindly at times. May my heart always proclaim this trust: "Even so, it is well with my soul." | | |
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