I think I get it
Why he took the cross from You
Those dragging steps in the crunchy sandy streets
Your legs shaking and painted in weaving trails of blood
Even in the middle of Your agony,
You were sending us a message
This center where two lines meet
Where suffering and love kiss
You whispered
When you try to carry something alone, you fall
When you try to grin and bear it, you hit a wall
Gritting your teeth through the forced smile pain
You can only get so far.
But how the story would have changed
Had You refused his help.
And kept the cross to Yourself
Or worse yet,
Kept it from us.
So in light of what You gave
I dropped the bomb.
To them, to You.
It didn’t explode,
just lightened the load.
“Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labor. Of either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.” Ecclesiastes 4:9-10
“God is not so wary as we, else He would give us no friends, lest we forget Him.” Emily Dickinson
"We allow our ignorance to prevail upon us and make us think we can survive alone."
Maya Angelou
"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art.... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival." C. S. Lewis
"The cross is God's way of taking away all of our accusations, excuses and arguments. The cross is God taking on flesh and blood and saying, 'Me too.'"-Rob Bell
around midnight October 14th two teenage brothers sat in a hospital waiting room making bets as to whose birthday she would share thinking they were getting a little brother their house would be turned upside down by a little princess who thought canned corn was a seat Disney movies her crystal ball to see the future ever searching for her prince, daddy and big brothers were great practice in that first dress up make believe decade of training taking turns as Prince Phillip, Aladdin, John Smith and many other handsome men coming to the rescue. But the Little Mermaid was her personal preference, God is winking at her today she finally got her prince Eric. But that didn’t come for quite a while. Age 11, she was the one sprinkling petals at our wedding, long before we could ever imagine our own little princess would be sprinkling petals at hers. But some snapshots don’t make the photo album. when it feels like life hits you like a train. Sarah was a daddy’s girl, crawling up his recliner lap, recording silly radio talk shows on her tape recorder and loving her with open arms. January 99, another hospital waiting room That look in her eyes before the words formed “I’m 12 and I don’t have a dad anymore.” She spent the next decade looking for those open arms, Falling into arms that would hurt, leave and take without permission until she went out on a balcony at ball state and surrendered moving away to spend some time seeking the ultimate source of her longing and found that You had been there for her all along. That time to fall into the arms of a heavenly Father before she could fall into the arms of her Prince Eric. Thank You Lord for new beginnings In the snapshots of white gowned fairy tale endings.
“Gravitation is not responsible for too people falling in love.” Albert Einstein
“Let us rejoice and be glad and give Him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, And his bride has made herself ready. Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear.” Revelation 19:7-8
Oh Brother, where art thou, in my dreams When my pigtails fail to impress Playground sisters and brothers were friends you wished I'd be reposessed The brother in movies stood up to the bully While I served the bully at home The brother in books lifted her up You shoved me down into Unknown Trapped me in corners to make me cry a burr in your saddle from the start But at bedtime prayers I would still love you And pray there’d be room in your heart For an annoying little sister who was like a rock in your shoe A splinter in your finger A birthday with the flu… A line of tape in the car For those long trips If I crossed the line I’d get a swift kick. “Sibling rivalry is common” they’d say When Mom would ask a close friend Her tears over all those years Asking “Will this ever end?” I thought we’d grow out of it With our respective shoe sizes But you, my big brother, keep me on my toes And are always full of surprises. But one thing won’t change At the end of the day When I kneel down for Bedtime prayers to say. I thank Him for you Yes, even from the start And pray that there still Might be room in your heart For this annoying little sister like a rock in your shoe Who grew up to be strong And, in part, I thank you.
“I don’t believe an accident of birth makes people sisters and brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.” Maya Angelou
‘The suffering won’t last forever. It won’t be long before this generous God who has great plans for us in Christ—eternal and glorious plans they are!—will have you put together and on your feet for good. “ 1 Peter 5:10 (Msg)
“I ask him to strengthen you by his spirit—not a brute strength but a glorious inner strength—that Christ will live in you as you open the door and invite him in. And ask him that with both feet planted firmly on love, you’ll be able to take in with all the followers of Jesus the extravagant dimensions of Christ’s love. Reach out and experience the breadth! Test its length! Plumb the depths! Rise to the heights! Live full lives, full in the fullness of God. God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.” Ephesians 3:16-20 (Msg)
Gone are the days of those Norman Rockwell armchair-sitting, hat-wearing, pipe-smoking thinking men coming home from work to put their feet up in their lazy-boy recliner thrones peeking from behind shuffling grey newspapers to offer stern wisdom from time to time and remind the little ones to speak only when spoken to. But these days call for a different daddy those ant-finding, Barbie-playing, couch-wrestling heroes jumping out from closets with flashlights under their chins sitting in the stickiness of crumbs on the table breakfasts and building forts with chairs and garish Disney character blankets All pride aside as they get down on the floor to lift up their children with their feet for the ultimate flight simulator. Waking up in the night from those chest lifting snores Like the sun rising and falling or the sound of waves landing safely on shore Taking turns with the baby as the real shelter from the thunderstorms. and despite all mom’s back-seat driving and hands on the hips questions he is… safety, love, and what makes our houses…homes. But every daddy moment is just a glimpse A whisper of an Abba Father patiently waiting in the thick of it Somehow their adoration in those silly G.I. Joe games giddy laughter from the basement and back porch squeals bare foot walks and late night mermaid stories all the way to hidden tears over gowns at prom, graduation and that walk down the aisle… These are all rippling reflections of Genesis rainbows to a stone rolled away those long dusty walks from town to town and from a manger to a cross somehow it all feels more like eavesdropping on the evolution of a loving father from that arm chair throne to the toy-cluttered carpet All pride aside as He came down to lift His children up the ultimate flight simulator. and we hop into prayer like nestling next to Daddy in a booming thunderstorm with sheets of rain driving sideways in the wind And we give this day to You, Abba Father This life to you with its flood of uncertainties wincing before each loud boom There are those nights when we cannot predict the timing or the intensity of the mystery that shakes the windows as if an ill-intending intruder pounding to come inside But You just tuck us snug in the middle telling epic stories of David prayers in the middle of his own storms as You whisper beneath the comforter of morning orison reminding us all what we already know but still need to hear only You say Because… "No matter what happens. Daddy’s here."
"If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” Luke 11:13
"Be kind to thy father, for when thou wert young, Who loved thee so fondly as he? He caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue, And joined in thy innocent glee." -- Margaret Courtney
"Certain is it that there is no kind of affection so purely angelic as of a father to a daughter. In love to our wives there is desire; to our sons, ambition; but to our daughters there is something which there are no words to express." Joseph Addison
"As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him." Psalm 103:13
When the walls close in, When I can't catch my breath, All it takes is a door, a window, to see the tiny buds on cracking branches And I come back to You. In the wind as it snakes in and out of the trees Like a child in a familiar playground. I see Your face in the clouds Trace Your name in the sand scoop the surface of the water and Watch the ripples surround me. The fragrance of fresh cut grass in the summer, When You hooked up with some fisherman and fed the five thousand. Burning leaves in the fall, When You knew they were coming. The crunch of snow and icy breath that dances In six cold hours on the cross And then --the spring Especially in the spring.
"Let us acknowledge the LORD; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth." Hosea 6:3
When my love and I first met He wrote to me Poetry, letters, songs of passion His handwriting drew me As the trickle of a rolling river That somehow brings peace in constant movement intertwining fingers of anticipation and repose Each bend of the river was new Each rock gently changing its flow Redirecting the path to new revelation. I ran to the mailbox, expecting, hoping, Yearning for more of his words, his thoughts, his love I never knew such love. But I did . . . You were there. Your love letters sat on a high shelf In a dusty cover with pages stuck together That smelled new from lack of use. Or sometimes in a drawer With papers I never needed, Pictures I never placed in an album, Paper clips, rubber bands, and rusty scissors. Your love letters Your Song of Solomon Your Psalms Your Mathew Mark, Luke, and John Your Genesis, Your Exodus Your Romans and Jeremiah. But now ancient words come alive like the morning paper To run to the Book, expecting, hoping, Yearning for more of Your Word, Your thoughts, Your Love I never knew such love. But I did . . .
“Your promises to me are hope. They give me strength in all my troubles; how they refresh and revive me!” Psalm 119:49
“Your words are what sustain me . . . They bring joy to my sorrowing heart and delight me.” Jeremiah 15:16
In my haughty humanity I would have shouted "I told you so!" to the wagging finger Pharisees, to ambivalent Pilate and his dripping hands. But You took a few steps out of a tomb inhaling the fresh scents of the garden to speak the name of a weeping woman a social outcast who found herself alone yet again to ask a simple question "Why are you crying?" and yet somehow I hear my name tasting the salt of my own tears as You wish us both the first Happy Easter stealing our tears from grief and handing them over to joy Robin Hood style as we open our eyes to see You just long enough to grin fall into Your arms and then take off running.
"In his triumph, Jesus could have paraded though the streets of Jerusalem. He could have knocked on Pilate's door. He could have confronted the high priest. But the first person our resurrected Lord appears to is a woman without hope. And the first words he speaks are, "Why are you crying?" "What a savior we serve, or rather, who serves us. For in his hour of greatest triumph, he doesn't shout his victory from the rooftops. He comes quietly to a woman who grieves...who desperately needs to hear his voice...see his face...and feel his embrace." Ken Gire, Moments with the Savior
"Woman," he said, "why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?" Thinking he was the gardener, she said, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him." Jesus said to her, "Mary." She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, "Rabboni!" (which means Teacher). John 20:15-16
in the gasp of the sting in the blood of the wound in the thorny questions of the why when the pain pulls us to our knees We still hold on to the thornbush because in You we know the sweet fruit is coming to quench our thirst in this desert on our way to Your promised land or maybe we're just wallowing on the road to Emmaus heavy footed sandals dragging the dust like pouting kids shuffling sneakers after a kickball loss of 9 year old bravado But little did we know You've been walking with us talking with us all along.
"Thank You for the hunger I have known in the wilderness and the thorns and nails I have known in the world, I have learned to feel something of the pain You felt when you walked this earth...and something of the fellowship of your sufferings, and intimacy with you I would have never known apart from tears..." Ken Gire, Moments with the Savior
"Instead of the thornbush will grow the pine tree, and instead of briers the myrtle will grow. This will be for the LORD's renown, for an everlasting sign, which will not be destroyed." Isaiah 55:13
i tried something new an obstinant, weak candle in a lit room chasing the darkness to spread a light little did i know it was i who would be blessed refreshed and renewed by the cool of their Steel Magnolias seeing You smiling back and flickering in their silvery mirrored petals. Your humor in Patti's sarcasm with precision arrow timing like Robin hood splitting that arrow with a smirk on his face and a soft spot in his heart. Your beauty in Jen's spirit as she races her kids around town giving up gas in the tank and a little bit of herself jingling bangle bracelets like windchimes that remind of us summer in the middle of the icy winter chill and even though she doesn't always see it, her beauty leaves us all astounded. Your creativity in Karen's strumming fingers and velvety honest voice that carries us far from our living room worries to a place of sincerity and trust as simple and bold as a pair of cowboy boots. Your love for us in mother Dolly who pulls us under her wings as her own no matter how old we are who feeds us well, hugs often, and smiles more than she should to make up for the rest of us. Your constancy in Mandi's strength when cancer haunted not once but twice and she went in fighting and came out a champion disguised as just another shopping mom in White House Black Market. Long after the final curtain call, as we go our separate ways, and that last echo of applause fades like a train whistle, the cool of their steely strength and the lessons that blossomed in those fragrant Magnolia talks basktage and in the back seat of a van will keep growing and helping me become the women you made me to be and the little girls we will always be to You our Daddy and the tender gardner of this little patch of Steel Magolias.
"You grow up the day you have your first real laugh - at yourself." ~Edith Barrymore
"But I will sing of your strength, in the morning I will sing of your love; for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble." Psalm 59:16
"Trouble is a part of life, and if you don't share it, you don't give the person who loves you a chance to love you enough." Dinah Shore~
"Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:28-31
Share joy is double joy; shared sorrow is half sorrow." Swedish Proverb
Three books in my lap, three spirits in one night Your word, Dickens' tale, and a gift from You Scrooge needed three but the One You sent was plenty for me Common truths fly up like rays of light Three glowing ribbons dancing in the wind until You braid them into a stronger cord a cord they can hold onto one that pulls them closer to You a 4th wall frosty windowed night where a dusty book from Charles Dickens and leather bound gold-tipped truths tip toe off the shelves of the past and jump in front of their eyes like the clocks they check throughout the day a place, a time, a story where scars are beautiful success cannot clink in your pockets and we discover that our low view of things is really just a high horse. Where we fall from our smug upturned noses into the graves of our own pride flailing down so we can look up to You the One who frees them from all chains heals as the crutch is tossed aside and melts the heart of the coldest of men whether it be in a tale of one night or the truth of a blinding day trip to Damascus I will brace behind You like a kid in a scary movie praying, hoping, begging that we might all leave changed unfettered laughing and singing carols like fools to wish You a proper birthday this December and maybe for all eternity.
"Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the old city knew. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him. His own heart laughed, and that was quite enough for him. It was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well. May that be truly said of all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless Us, Every One!" Charles Dicken's A Christmas Carol
"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time." ~Laura Ingalls Wilder
"A prison cell, in which one waits, hopes... and is completely dependent on the fact that the door of freedom has to be opened from the outside, is not a bad picture of Advent." Dietrich Bonhoeffer
"And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; You shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." Luke 2:10-14
some secret six year old desire to be a shape shifter
gracefully slithering into different disguises
walking to her craftily composed epic soundtrack
in the playground of her imagination.
Designing new shapes and lines with eyes of intent
and a tongue out to the side.
Always singing a new song that makes us lean in to listen.
Two years now of inventing her own character
No chance in a trick-or-treat of meeting her twin on the streets
originality the name of the game.
Last year, it was Sylon, the ninja princess,
yielding her sword of truth and quick-moving hands,
fighting for justice in hot pink and glitter.
This year Frostina, an icy heroine,
who can freeze objects as well as time,
fighting for justice, caped for battle,
and missing her two front teeth.
Known for her one-liners and endless energy
a world where everything is more than it seems
a folded blanket could be the roof of the fort
a marker, paper and glue keys to a storybook world
and a towel the cape that makes you fly.
She inspires me, challenges me, and makes me dream.
And I dream of what You will do with all this
how it could last and grow with her height
Until she falls into Your arms instead of ours
holding onto her gift of imagination
shape shifting into a new heroine for You
fighting for justice with a sword of truth
that's really a leather bound book
in her quick-moving hands. Still designing new shapes and lines with eyes of intent and a tongue out to the side.
Always singing a new song that makes us lean in to listen.
Still known for her one-liners and endless energy and living in a world where everything is more than it seems where Your Son is on the street corner waiting to be fed
Your Spirit is in the storybook truth, sticking in her mind like glue
and You are the purpose that keeps her flying.
And at the end of her life, all who knew her,
especially You,
would smile and say,
"Her commitment to character astounds me."
"Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ. From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work." Epehesians 4:14-16
"Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius."
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
"He put a new song in my mouth,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear
and put their trust in the LORD." Psalm 40:3
"My faith is not what I write about or what I paint about, but it is the light by which I see."Flannery O'Conner
To give them the big ending to the movie they demand.
And they all want something different.
He's clingy, suffocating and persistent,
bearing down on the palette until it's all blended to goopy brown
never letting up until I'm all dried up.
But Your kind of pressure is liberating
breath-taking, and brings the brightest colors to my brush
leading me to higher ground, untouched.
So I'm trading Pressure in for Privilege today.
seam-ripping through this elastic prison
out in the open with You
because no matter what Pressure says
You got this.
"Fierce troubles came down on the people of those churches, pushing them to the very limit. The trial exposed their true colors: They were incredibly happy, though desperately poor. The pressure triggered something totally unexpected: an outpouring of pure and generous gifts. poor Christians." 2 Corinthians 8:2-3
"Talking is a hydrant in the yard and writing is a faucet upstairs in the house. Opening the first takes the pressure off the second.” Robert Frost
"Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don't try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way." James 1:1-3
“Pressure is a word that is misused in our vocabulary. When you start thinking of pressure, it's because you've started to think of failure.” Tommy Lasorda
"The pressure never let up; all the juices of my life dried up. Then I let it all out; I said, "I'll make a clean breast of my failures to God." Suddenly the pressure was gone— my guilt dissolved, my sin disappeared. These things add up. Every one of us needs to pray; when all hell breaks loose and the dam bursts we'll be on high ground, untouched."
I take my curtains for granted. They hang beautifully, faithfully, day after day brushing by them countless times in a week Keeping us warm, cool, and comfortable The spot where Lauren's hands grab to peek out has grown higher and higher with every season every precious visitor who visits is greeted and farewelled by a friendly wave between the curtains like a gleeful puppet show just for them But there are days, months, years even, when we go to work, come home, eat, sleep, play, live and never take time to think about our curtains. Imagine our shock to come home one day to find them stolen. Blinding sunlight in the day and feeling exposed at night. We take our curtains for granted. Like our own ability to see our silent breath in and out our heartbeats... And all too often, Your great commission. For centuries, the Church has faced snakey temptation, the pull for pageantry or the desire for political gain, and in the middle of our planning services, events, elements, in our busyness of preparation behind the stage curtains, We forget about the curtain You tore in half and our calling to share it with the world. Somehow brushing past You to sit together on Sunday mornings looking to stay warm, cool, and comfortable. A bunch of prodigal big brothers, smug that we stayed at home refusing to come to the party for someone so stupid. Well-dressed cliques who shake hands, wave hello and goodbye never getting past our own draping-curtained superficial smiles. There will come a day when the curtains will fall from our eyes like scales from the blind man You touched the day when You come back to claim those who stepped over those torn curtain pieces into the temple of following You. Confession time, exposed. That day scares me. I know there will be celebration, healing, victory, redemption. But I can't help but ache for all those left behind the students I never got to share You with, the friendly neighbors I never took time to get to know, the hungry children in Monroe circle, the thousands in India who didn't make it to the church plants. the shoppers in Target right across the street, who drive by the building like a curtain in a living room. That day will be agony for them. They are the reasons we get up in the morning work late, have long meetings, hold conferences,spend days, weeks, months, years, finding new innovative ways to capture their attention. Shake us to move from hamsters on wheels to your kids chasing Your dreams of what could be and should be. And help me to cling to that heavy ache in my chest that nagging thought in my mind that incessant pull like a veil torn all the way to the final curtain.
"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in[a] the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28:19-20
“Become the change you seek in the world.” – Mahatma Gandhi
"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." Hebrews 12:1
"If a commission by an earthly king is considered a honor, how can a commission by a Heavenly King be considered a sacrifice?" David Livingstone
nine years of teaching in the public schools a calling to sprint underwater conduct an orchestra in handcuffs or tie my shoes with my teeth and, oddly enough, I loved it. Even more astonishing, I was beginning to miss it those metamorphosis moments
springboarding from my simple love for them those wide eyes that finally get that they matter to someone those beaming grins after the blank paper is filled Then I snap out of the little misty daydreams and find myself sitting in a puddle of guilt painting pictures of Egypt after arriving in the Promised Land So once again You came along with another gift I didn't know I needed. 1 class, 18 students, and a breathless freedom to speak of You Nine years of censoring myself
square peg round hole to to fit into the fragmented box of law dancing with euphemisms like a monkey in a hat An alternate universe Where the power of the Holy Spirit was just their "conscience" when Mt. Sinai's stone tablets were buried more like tombstones as "morals to the story" Christ figure characters imprisoned by "Protagonist" boxes Epic parable allusions boiled down to "literary devices" and the greatest story and theme of all time was left unsaid, untaught, and raging inside me. And those after-class conversations when I slipped, couldn't help msyelf, broke the rules and mentioned You only led to a trip to the Principal's office and a peach-colored warning sheet I had to sign. Me, the straight A good girl, somehow the new rebel in school. Nine years of teaching in a straight jacket. Until now This one class at a Christian College, when the duct tape comes off the mouth the straight jacket untied, unbelted, removed You're no longer the elephant in the room but the subject of the study intermingled and touching everything like fall campus winds or long stringy spaghetti when I can hold the Bible like a pop-up book stage where Your storytelling brilliance finally comes alive when the true theatre of Your word meets the fantasy of the stage in a mind-blowing dance of artful ministry and I can't help but look up to thank You for the freedom to speak my mind a new playground to speak Your heart for the presents of Your presence acknowledged, unfettered, and arms out like dancing in the sun.
"All to often we are giving children cut flowers when we should be teaching them to grow their own plants."---John W. Gardner
"Boldly and without hindrance he preached the kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ." Acts 28:31
"Day after day, in the temple courts and from house to house, they never stopped teaching and proclaiming the good news that Jesus is the Christ." Acts 5:42
pendulum hammock swings of opposites attract rolling us to kiss in the sanity in the middle to meet my high school crush on the college boy flashback squeeling around the house writing in my journal to you... "Dear God, send me a boy LIKE Cody Baker..." like some 1950's Gidgit apple pie movie with letter sweaters, going steady and tailored ponytail perfection only I didn't fit the flawless Hollywood plastic mold in my freckled, awkward, ball of nerves bag of bones so I kept teetering on the edge of my seat waiting for the movie to end anticipating the rock in the stomach rejection like the white knuckled seconds before a crash but twelve years later, he's still here determined to raise a family, fix some faucets, love my flaws, repair a brake leak, increase my laugh lines and lead us all closer to You. Our opposites can overheat and boil over walking off in a huff and propelling deep angry breaths but in every pendulum swing every inch of space between every dizzying sway challenge our ying and yang will roll to the middle cradled in our future woven by You to kiss in the middle of a paradox.
"Chains do not hold a marriage together. It is threads, hundreds of tiny threads which sew people together through the years." Simone Signoret
"If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others." Philippians 2:1-4
"People get from books the idea that if you have married the right person you may expect to go on 'being in love' forever. As a result, when they find they are not, they think this proves they have made a mistake and are entitled to a change -not realizing that, when they have changed, the glamour will presently go out of the new love just as it went out of the old one. In this department of life, as in every other, thrills come at the beginning and do not last... but if you go through with it, the dying away of the first thrill will be compensated for by a quieter and more lasting kind of interest." C.S. Lewis
"For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh." This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband." Ephesians 5:31-33
"That quiet mutual gaze of a trusting husband and wife is like the first moment of rest or refuge from a great weariness or a great danger." George Eliot
That phrase is still ringing in my ears "Mommy, I know you're probably going to say no to this, but...." Her new favorite way of asking me for things as if I'm that meanie mommy hoarding all her glittery wishes in my stingy matronly apron pocket like a crotchety old school marm complete with hunchback, hairy moles, and a permanent scowl Doesn't she know I'd gladly offer my life for hers? Can't she see the immense love I have for her that spills out in little drops of joy when I watch her sleep? That I look for new ways to bless her every day Doesn't she know the "no's" come with intention to save her? To keep her from the indulgent plague of a spoiled child? To protect her from the lies of this world that parade as truth tempting children with their colorful carney ways? I wish I could help her understand break it down into little chewable pieces like cutting her steak for her. And then I hear You whisper A truth that knocks the wind out of me-- Four years of trying for a second baby Forty-eight months of no's The elephant in the prayer room and I'm beginning to see myself in my little girl's pouty swagger And I can hear Your voice in my questions to her "Can't You see the immense love I have for you? That I look for new ways to bless you every day? Can't you see the "no's" come with intention to save you? Don't You know I'd gladly offer my life for Yours?" And You did. My little girl's voice comes in again "Mommy, I know you're probably going to say no to this, but..." (sigh) And I hear You one last time that still, small voice whisper "Sometimes, that's how you pray."
Praise be to God, who has not rejected my prayer or withheld his love from me! Psalm 66:20
"We want to know not how we should pray if we were perfect but how we should pray being as we are now....It is no use to ask God with factitious earnestness for A when our whole mind is in reality filled with the desire for B. We must lay before Him what is in us, not what ought to be in us..." C.S. Lewis. Letters to Malcom, Chiefly on Prayer
"Prayers are not always--in the crude, factual sense of the word--'granted.' This is not because prayer is a weaker kind of causality, but because it is a stronger kind. When it 'works' at all it works unlimited by space and time. that is why God has retained a discretionary power of granting or refusing it; except on that condition prayer would destroy us, It is not unreasonable for a headmaster to say "Such and such things you may do according to the fixed rules of this school. But such and such other things are too dangerous to be left to general rules. If you want to do them you must come and make a request and talk over the whole matter with me in my study. And then--we'll see." C.S. Lewis, God in the Dock
"Prayer is a request. The essence of request, as distinct from compulsion, is that it may or may not be granted. And if an infinitely wise Being listens to the requests of the finite and fooolish creatures, of course He will sometimes grant and sometimes refuse them. Invariable 'success' in prayer would not prove the Christian doctrine at all. It would prove something much more like magic--a power in certain human beings to control, or compel the course of nature." C.S. Lewis, The World's Last Night
"Wouldn't He know without being asked?" said Polly.
"I've no doubt He would," said the Horse..." But I've sort of the idea he likes to be asked."
I hear You calling me into dangerous prayers No more bless me's give me's help me's and sooth me prayers. I may not be ready, but it's time. Burn me Break me Send me Mold me into what You had in mind all along. make me uncomfortable wide-eyed to any pride face down at Your feet crackling in that fiery peace dancing ribbon flames like waving arms to praise You a soothing fever rock from the scorching blaze And send me coal kisses with wings to wake me up.
"Then one of the seraphs flew to me with a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with tongs from the altar. With it he touched my mouth and said, "See, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for." Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I. Send me!"" Isaiah 6: 6-8
"Can't sleep. An angel wants to burn my lips with coal. I must count the cost....Here am I! Send me!... Make me a man of prayer! Put power in my words. Your word is powerful! Make your word my word, make your power my power. I want to be God's voice, full of love, mercy and fire!...I don't want greatness. I want you to be great! Lower me down. Humble me. Teach me to humble myself, O Lord!" From the Journal of Keith Green, Entry March 1979
"And I'm so filthy with my sin I carry pride like a disease You know I'm stubborn God and I'm longing to be close You burn me deeper than I know I feel lonely without hope I feel desperate without vision You wrap around me like a winter coat You come and free me like a bird And my heart burns for you" "Obsession" song by Delirious (Cutting Edge, 1995)
"The people who suffer from arrogance don't know it... Pride will block your vision like nothing else. It'll make you a blind man or a blind woman... but the Holy Spirit can reveal truth to you that you could never see on your own. He knows you better than you know yourself...God, we open up ourselves to You now. Give us eyes to see, ears to hear. God empty us of our pride, so we can receive the flood of mercy you give to those who fear You." Rob Wegner, "The Arrogance Trap" sermon July 15-16-2009
"God is not a static thing--not even a person--but a dynamic, pulsating activity, a life, almost a kind of drama. Almost, if you will not think me irreverent, a kind of dance...The whole dance, or drama, or pattern of this three-Personal life is to be played out in each one of us...each one of us has got to enter that pattern, take his place in that dance." C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
Then maidens will dance and be glad,
young men and old as well.
I will turn their mourning into gladness;
I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.
Jeremiah 31:13
"I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all; but whatever I have placed in God's hands, that I still posess." Martin Luther
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven... a time to weep and a time to laugh,
There are days when it feels like the wind is helping me along adding a little pep to my step brushing my hair from my face whistling happy soundtrack tunes and making everything dance to the sway of the trees. Then there are those days when a failure gust knocks me down resisting my efforts to crawl forward smearing the salty drops on my cheeks deafening my thoughts like a rumbling train and tearing leaves to throw them far from their branchy homes. Those days where this wishy washy unpredictable snaking breeze longs to live like the sun where everyone needs me I never let them down and always show up on time when I can persuade the buds to blossom and shine to make them all look a little brighter. But that's Your job. So on these leaf-tearing, mind-blowing windy days I'll lean against the wind letting the dead leaves fly free to make room for the buds you have in mind and just hold on digging my roots into You.
"The real problem of the Christian life comes where people do not usually look for it. It comes the very moment you wake up in each morning. All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so on, all day. Standing back from all your natural fussings and frettings; coming in out of the wind." C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
"Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall." Proverbs 16:18
"..if you want to find out how proud you are the easiest way is to ask yourself, 'How much do I dislike it when other people snub me, or refuse to take any notice of me?'...as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you...but the great thing to remember is that, though our feelings come and go, His love for us does not. It is not wearies by our sins, or our indifference; a therefore, it is quite relentless in its determination that we shall be cured of those sins, at whatever cost to us, at whatever cost to Him...The battle is between faith and reason on one side and emotion and imagination on the other...You find out the strength of the wind by trying to walk against it, not by lying down...We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside until we try to fight it: and Christ, because He was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means-the only complete realist." C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
"The end of a matter is better than its beginning, and patience is better than pride." Ecclesiastes 7:8
"If you are suffering from a bad man's injustice, forgive him lest there be two bad men." St. Augustine of Hippo
"He that demains mercy, and shows none, ruins the bridge over which he himself is to pass." Thomas Adams
“Although it’s true that there are times when we are merely bystanders in life’s ever-ending stream of head-on collisions, rarely are we completely innocent. More often than not, we do something to contribute to the problem’s we’re experiencing. People who are the best at dialogue understand this simple fact and turn it into the principle “Work on me first.” They realize that not only are they likely to benefit by improving their own approach, but also that they’re the only person they can work on anyway. As much as others may need to change, or we may want them to change, the only person we can continually inspire, prod, and shape - with any degree of success - is the person in the mirror." Crucial Conversations by Kerry Patterson, Joseph Grenny, Ron McMillan, and Al Switzler
"When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom." Proverbs 11:2
