Quick, the baby just went to sleep and the family hasn't walked in from church yet.
I've been thinking about you for hours now. Thinking about what I would tell you if I could talk as easily as I write.
I know right now you are struggling. I would love to take that struggle from you and let you have all the blessing with none of the pain. I would love to do that but I don't think it works that way.
You know me. You know how chaotic my mind gets. You've seen me high and low. So I'm going to just lay aside all of my disguises and just for one minute offer you encouragement.
It will be ok. I don't know how it will be ok but I know it will. You see, you're not just my friend. You're my sister. Our Father is the King of the Universe. He isn't a distant King that you have to make an appointment months in advance to see. He is your Father and He loves you. He loves you like you are His favorite daughter. Not only is He the all powerful King of the Universe, He is the Creator of the Universe. He didn't just create us and then leave. He has waited and loved each of His creations all the way up to now, to YOU.
He loves you and He wants the best for you. We cannot understand how each day that we have to, I mean get to, trudge through leads to the best but we don't have to understand. We just have to know that He is the giver of all good things.
I am praying for you. I'm praying every hour that everything turns out the way we would have it turn out. But I'm also praying that His will be done because we are short sighted. He alone knows what is best.
Oops, I hear the car door and the squeals of the girls. I love you. We'll walk through this together.
Good night.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Eli's Response
Servant-hood. What a strange concept we Christians have in servant-hood. Priests are servants. They were to help people find forgiveness for their sins. To do that, they had to slaughter animals and get dirty with the blood. I imagine how excited the priests would have to be right before it was their turn to work in the temple. Just like a new police officer, thinking that the world would be changed because they are in the position. Time erodes that thinking. Day after day of dealing with the evil of the world wears away at the heart. The priests and the cops both work with the sad, the hurt, the dying, and the sick.
They are servants but at one time they thought they had power. Power is a beautiful thing. It shines and glimmers. Power is also an empty thing. Once you look past all the bling, you can see the emptiness.
Today's morning reading was a random pick since we were off on the bike. I opened up to Samuel and read about how God called Samuel. Then I read Eli's response. Eli was the priest who was taking care of Samuel. He was old and fat. He knew his sons had done terrible things and he knew that at some point, God would destroy them. So, Eli tells Samuel to tell him everything the Lord said. Samuel does. He tells Eli that the destruction was at hand. I can see Eli clearly now. Old, fat, tired. His eyes heavy with the years. Heavy with the disappointments of life. His beloved sons had betrayed him. They were supposed to be so much better. This child in front of him has actually heard God's voice and there was no redemption for Eli.
He hears this. Then he shrugs. "He is God. Let Him do as He thinks is best."
From all the power of the priest to the emptiness of a shrug.
They are servants but at one time they thought they had power. Power is a beautiful thing. It shines and glimmers. Power is also an empty thing. Once you look past all the bling, you can see the emptiness.
Today's morning reading was a random pick since we were off on the bike. I opened up to Samuel and read about how God called Samuel. Then I read Eli's response. Eli was the priest who was taking care of Samuel. He was old and fat. He knew his sons had done terrible things and he knew that at some point, God would destroy them. So, Eli tells Samuel to tell him everything the Lord said. Samuel does. He tells Eli that the destruction was at hand. I can see Eli clearly now. Old, fat, tired. His eyes heavy with the years. Heavy with the disappointments of life. His beloved sons had betrayed him. They were supposed to be so much better. This child in front of him has actually heard God's voice and there was no redemption for Eli.
He hears this. Then he shrugs. "He is God. Let Him do as He thinks is best."
From all the power of the priest to the emptiness of a shrug.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Pondering the Priests
So, the last few weeks I've been finishing up Exodus and heading into Leviticus. The material isn't terribly exciting. It is the Bible though so I try really hard to pay attention. Prior to today the subject was the Tabernacle and how to make it and decorate it. While I was trying to pay attention, I kept thinking "hmm, almond blossoms might make a pretty tattoo...or maybe I could get alternating bells and pomegranates..." I really was trying to pay attention.
Today, I paid enough attention to catch something disturbing. I had always imagined priests as very clean. I imagined that since they were holy, they would be like the philosophy professors I studied under in college. They would walk around in their fancy robes, offering wise yet distant advice.
The instructions for sacrifices involve sprinkling blood all over the altar. There are specific instructions to remove organs and wash the legs. The part that got my attention was the bird. When they had removed the gizzard and other stuff, they were to pull it apart by the wings. Bang!
At that point, I could smell the warmth of the bird. I could feel bones and sinews snap. The blood sticky causing the little feathers to stay on fingers. Reaching into the poor thing to remove organs. Its life. A tiny little life, like many others in the flock, taken to repent for a sin that would no doubt be committed again.
No one but the Father would know the little creature's name. The priest would kill it. He would carve it and yank it apart. He would follow the prescribed plan without variance.
How sad that an innocent creature would have to die. The little girl in me screams "no!". How much worse would it be to see a man without guilt die an even more gruesome death? To know that his blood had to spilled to take away my sins and yet, still I sin.
The priests led the animals to the slaughter, placed the sins on their heads, and sprinkled their blood. Our Jesus allowed himself to be led to the slaughter. He took our sins on his head. His blood continues to wash us. Because of his great love, we can call ourselves friends of the most high God.
On Valentine's day, with everyone dressed in red, I keep smelling the scent of blood. The image of priests in my mind has changed from philosophy professor to butcher. But most amazingly, my understanding of our Jesus grew a little more today.
Happy Valentine's Day
Today, I paid enough attention to catch something disturbing. I had always imagined priests as very clean. I imagined that since they were holy, they would be like the philosophy professors I studied under in college. They would walk around in their fancy robes, offering wise yet distant advice.
The instructions for sacrifices involve sprinkling blood all over the altar. There are specific instructions to remove organs and wash the legs. The part that got my attention was the bird. When they had removed the gizzard and other stuff, they were to pull it apart by the wings. Bang!
At that point, I could smell the warmth of the bird. I could feel bones and sinews snap. The blood sticky causing the little feathers to stay on fingers. Reaching into the poor thing to remove organs. Its life. A tiny little life, like many others in the flock, taken to repent for a sin that would no doubt be committed again.
No one but the Father would know the little creature's name. The priest would kill it. He would carve it and yank it apart. He would follow the prescribed plan without variance.
How sad that an innocent creature would have to die. The little girl in me screams "no!". How much worse would it be to see a man without guilt die an even more gruesome death? To know that his blood had to spilled to take away my sins and yet, still I sin.
The priests led the animals to the slaughter, placed the sins on their heads, and sprinkled their blood. Our Jesus allowed himself to be led to the slaughter. He took our sins on his head. His blood continues to wash us. Because of his great love, we can call ourselves friends of the most high God.
On Valentine's day, with everyone dressed in red, I keep smelling the scent of blood. The image of priests in my mind has changed from philosophy professor to butcher. But most amazingly, my understanding of our Jesus grew a little more today.
Happy Valentine's Day
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Trust
I will trust in the Lord with all my heart because He is the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
Even though tomorrow threatens pain, I will trust in the Lord. Whatever the new day brings, I can rest tonight because He is with me. He is with me through everything and what He allows is what should be.
Our little dude made it to his first birthday. We first saw him when he was a week or two old. He was tiny and yellow. Then we saw him again the day we brought him home. I keep wondering how that happened. It started with my brother coming over and saying that they took him. I think that's how it started anyway. I don't really remember. I do remember the frantic call on the back porch when the guy was trying to tell me little dude was going to be sent to some distant relative and I said no. Michael and I grabbed my brother and after a tense meeting they handed us a baby.
Now, all I want is what is best for him. I realize I have no idea what is best for him. I have little faith in "the agency". I have little faith in the courts. I have very little faith in his mother. I have no faith in his father. I have an amazing and growing faith in my capital F Father.
I didn't sleep well last night. Of course I know the only reason I slept at all was because I know Jesus loves me. And, if our God is for us, whom then shall we fear? There is no room for fear. There is only room for trust. So, I will trust in the Lord. I will trust in the creator of the universe who did not even spare his own son. I do not know what His plan is (I would really, really like to by the way). I do know that He love me. He also loves that baby.
Tonight I will sleep and the morning will come. The judge will do what he or she is compelled to do. I will pray for the judge and for all those in the court. Then I will rest in the peace that passes understanding and I will praise Him for himself.
Even though tomorrow threatens pain, I will trust in the Lord. Whatever the new day brings, I can rest tonight because He is with me. He is with me through everything and what He allows is what should be.
Our little dude made it to his first birthday. We first saw him when he was a week or two old. He was tiny and yellow. Then we saw him again the day we brought him home. I keep wondering how that happened. It started with my brother coming over and saying that they took him. I think that's how it started anyway. I don't really remember. I do remember the frantic call on the back porch when the guy was trying to tell me little dude was going to be sent to some distant relative and I said no. Michael and I grabbed my brother and after a tense meeting they handed us a baby.
Now, all I want is what is best for him. I realize I have no idea what is best for him. I have little faith in "the agency". I have little faith in the courts. I have very little faith in his mother. I have no faith in his father. I have an amazing and growing faith in my capital F Father.
I didn't sleep well last night. Of course I know the only reason I slept at all was because I know Jesus loves me. And, if our God is for us, whom then shall we fear? There is no room for fear. There is only room for trust. So, I will trust in the Lord. I will trust in the creator of the universe who did not even spare his own son. I do not know what His plan is (I would really, really like to by the way). I do know that He love me. He also loves that baby.
Tonight I will sleep and the morning will come. The judge will do what he or she is compelled to do. I will pray for the judge and for all those in the court. Then I will rest in the peace that passes understanding and I will praise Him for himself.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Indulgence
I've heard the story of the "loaves and fishes" many, many times. I never considered it a very good meal. I mean, once you take the miracle part out, it's fish and bread. I don't like fish very much and I can easily live without bread. I remember listening to the Sunday school teacher getting so excited about fish and bread and trying really hard to agree with her while wondering why Jesus didn't give everyone a hamburger and fries.
I had an insight about that the other night. I was remembering right before Michael and I got married. Althea was 4. She didn't understand how we could get more love by adding more people to our family. I remember sitting on her bed trying to explain that when we share love our hearts grow bigger. She wasn't buying it. Love seemed like a finite resource, like a pizza. If you had more people to share with, your piece got smaller.
So on the 8th anniversary of that night, I'm thinking about how our family has grown to include not only Michael and Lauren but Zoe and Vika and little Dude and whole bunch of other people. Our home and hearts are overflowing with the noise of people we love.
So if love isn't a pizza with a finite number of slices, what is it? That's easy. Love is loaves and fishes. Now, I don't really like bread and fish but in Jesus' hands it was an amazing meal. (I'm imaging Long John Silver's fried fish and hush puppies with tons of malt vinegar and tartar sauce) Let's say you're the lady at the very back with three kids. Life is hard and food isn't easy to come by. You and your husband had decided to come see this Jesus. What he's said is amazing but you didn't get breakfast and the kids are tugging on your robe asking about dinner. You see Jesus bless the food and hand baskets out to the disciples. Your husband is in the group of men up front so you know he will have plenty to eat. You are back there wondering if there will be enough. Can you feel her stress? Was she telling herself that whatever she gets, she'll give to the kids. She can wait until she gets home. Was she straining to see if there was enough in the basket? What a wonderful feeling of peace she felt when she looked in the basket that Peter handed her to see that it was full! There was plenty for her kids and for her! Maybe this was the first night they had eaten that well in a long time. Her babies bellies were full. Her belly was full and Jesus was there to talk to her. Those hunks of fish and bread were love in "the flesh".
Through Jesus and his loaves and fishes, I know that love is an infinite resource. He will always supply enough and He will give us people with whom we can enjoy it. The indulgence I mentioned in the title is the indulgence to say what a wonderful husband He has provided for me. I love the verse where Jesus says if even an earthly father gives you good gifts, how much better are the gifts from your heavenly Father. Michael is indeed a great gift!
I had an insight about that the other night. I was remembering right before Michael and I got married. Althea was 4. She didn't understand how we could get more love by adding more people to our family. I remember sitting on her bed trying to explain that when we share love our hearts grow bigger. She wasn't buying it. Love seemed like a finite resource, like a pizza. If you had more people to share with, your piece got smaller.
So on the 8th anniversary of that night, I'm thinking about how our family has grown to include not only Michael and Lauren but Zoe and Vika and little Dude and whole bunch of other people. Our home and hearts are overflowing with the noise of people we love.
So if love isn't a pizza with a finite number of slices, what is it? That's easy. Love is loaves and fishes. Now, I don't really like bread and fish but in Jesus' hands it was an amazing meal. (I'm imaging Long John Silver's fried fish and hush puppies with tons of malt vinegar and tartar sauce) Let's say you're the lady at the very back with three kids. Life is hard and food isn't easy to come by. You and your husband had decided to come see this Jesus. What he's said is amazing but you didn't get breakfast and the kids are tugging on your robe asking about dinner. You see Jesus bless the food and hand baskets out to the disciples. Your husband is in the group of men up front so you know he will have plenty to eat. You are back there wondering if there will be enough. Can you feel her stress? Was she telling herself that whatever she gets, she'll give to the kids. She can wait until she gets home. Was she straining to see if there was enough in the basket? What a wonderful feeling of peace she felt when she looked in the basket that Peter handed her to see that it was full! There was plenty for her kids and for her! Maybe this was the first night they had eaten that well in a long time. Her babies bellies were full. Her belly was full and Jesus was there to talk to her. Those hunks of fish and bread were love in "the flesh".
Through Jesus and his loaves and fishes, I know that love is an infinite resource. He will always supply enough and He will give us people with whom we can enjoy it. The indulgence I mentioned in the title is the indulgence to say what a wonderful husband He has provided for me. I love the verse where Jesus says if even an earthly father gives you good gifts, how much better are the gifts from your heavenly Father. Michael is indeed a great gift!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Snow and Pride
I love God. I love to look back occasionally and see where His hand has guided me.
Drove down 3211 again today. It was the strangest trip down the familiar road that I've taken in 10 years. The snow covered everything. Inches of fluffy white hide the road from view. Michael drove very slow, which is very strange. The extra time in the blinding cold provided time for memories.
I try to remember who I was 10 years ago. I was independent. I had learned to rely on myself because others had disappointed me so many times. I handled all the bills, took care of car repairs, and fixed whatever needed fixing. Learning to rely on someone else seemed a risky venture.
First I started relying on God. Not completely of course because I wasn't really sure who He was. Little by little the wall between us began to crumble. Then Michael came on the scene. I had never met any one like him. He came as package deal. There was a beautiful daughter with the biggest brown eyes ever, a teenage sister who talked a million miles an hour about how wonderful he was, this mother who seemed to be hiding something, and GG (she requires her own entry).
Slowly, I started to rely on them. I learned about faith in action. I learned that Godly people have this thing called faith that allows them to believe the most absurd things. Then I learned that with God all things really are possible.
God has allowed trials to come that have forced me to rely on others. He continues to chip away at the pride that covers my heart like that snow hiding 3211. It isn't easy to hand over control. I have to remember hourly that He is way more capable than I. But each hour I humble myself, the snow melts off my heart. 3211 was almost completely covered today. There were faint traces of road and occasional clear patches. I really didn't have any trouble relying on Michael to drive us safely across the mess. Years ago that would have scared me. Now, time and again he has brought us safely home. I am able to trust him and relax. How much more trustworthy is our Father? I love God
Drove down 3211 again today. It was the strangest trip down the familiar road that I've taken in 10 years. The snow covered everything. Inches of fluffy white hide the road from view. Michael drove very slow, which is very strange. The extra time in the blinding cold provided time for memories.
I try to remember who I was 10 years ago. I was independent. I had learned to rely on myself because others had disappointed me so many times. I handled all the bills, took care of car repairs, and fixed whatever needed fixing. Learning to rely on someone else seemed a risky venture.
First I started relying on God. Not completely of course because I wasn't really sure who He was. Little by little the wall between us began to crumble. Then Michael came on the scene. I had never met any one like him. He came as package deal. There was a beautiful daughter with the biggest brown eyes ever, a teenage sister who talked a million miles an hour about how wonderful he was, this mother who seemed to be hiding something, and GG (she requires her own entry).
Slowly, I started to rely on them. I learned about faith in action. I learned that Godly people have this thing called faith that allows them to believe the most absurd things. Then I learned that with God all things really are possible.
God has allowed trials to come that have forced me to rely on others. He continues to chip away at the pride that covers my heart like that snow hiding 3211. It isn't easy to hand over control. I have to remember hourly that He is way more capable than I. But each hour I humble myself, the snow melts off my heart. 3211 was almost completely covered today. There were faint traces of road and occasional clear patches. I really didn't have any trouble relying on Michael to drive us safely across the mess. Years ago that would have scared me. Now, time and again he has brought us safely home. I am able to trust him and relax. How much more trustworthy is our Father? I love God
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