Chasing Joy

"I am guiding you on the way of wisdom and I am leading you on the right path." Proverbs 4:11

Category: wonder (page 1 of 5)

again running

and so she woke up
woke up from where she was
lying still
said i gotta do something
about where we’re going.

-U2

been running again.

december 26th found us at our local rec center purchasing the family pass.

december 26th also found us beginning what would be our new daily routine.  everyone goes, like it or not.

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Children tie the mother’s feet, the Tamils say….We knew we could not be too careful of our children’s earliest years.  So we let our feet be tied for love of Him whose feet were pierced.

-Amy Carmichael

she’s leaving, my beloved oldest girl.  for 3 months overseas.  knowing this time would come….should come, i set aside some things to have more time her last semester of high school.

the end of this season begins in 2 days.  changes ahead for sure-changes in her, changes in us here back at home.

i’ve fielded lots of questions about how i’m feeling.

everyone has been home for Christmas break-boys went back to school only this week.  and the days have been filled with holiday engagements, those trips to the gym, errands upon errands to help our girl prepare for this trip.

so i let my feet be tied.

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every time i run my mind writes.  the trouble is that putting pen to paper is impossible while running.  so i make cryptic notes in my phone.  there are 16 ideas there fleshed out a bit while my heart rate beats fast, recorded in hope that an hour or two will one day come to craft an essay or two that matters.

it’s 30 minutes of untied feet.

something else is happening in this running.

peace, clarity, perspective.  right there in the crowded gym, this one who spends so much time in her head is able to release a bit.

which ushers in a stillness.  a connection with the One acquainted with all the ways i’m feeling.

and my gaze shifts up.  as my thoughts tumble out there is  room for Him to speak.

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how am i feeling?

well, it’s hard to say really.  overwhelmed with all there is to do.  carrying a sense of urgency to make the most of this time.  tired from the early morning routine yanking us away from the restfulness of slow days.  amazed and delighted at who my daughter has become and is becoming.  excited for this gift the Lord is handing her.  aware of and grieving my daily failures; the little ones like handing my son a still frozen breakfast sandwich…in the car…on the way to school.  it’s ok mom, he says, and attempts to eat it anyway.  and the big ones that leave me in tears for hours when i should be sleeping. cause sometimes repentance is a long process.  wondering what the latest letter home from my oldest’s school means.  apologizing to my younger boy again that his violin string broke because of my idea, sorry son, maybe you won’t play any G notes today????  discussing late into the night with my man about whether we should replace our windows, how the budget shaped over the course of last year, and how we feel about where we’re all going. which is what led to the daily visits to the rec center.

these are the laces tying up my days.

but there is also the running.

singing ha, ah la la la de day…
ha la la la de day
ha la la de day
she’s running to stand still

-U2


so, friend, what is it that quiets your head and heart?  may you persevere in the finding of it, the executing of it, the embracing of it.  and in the process, the finding of Him, the embracing of Him, the being stilled by Him.

I will sing of the lovingkindness of the Lord forever.  To all generations I will make known Your faithfulness with my mouth. …Blessed are the people who know the joyful sound!  They walk, O LORD in the light of Your countenance.  psalm 89:1, 15

 

pondering with Mary

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And coming to her, the angel said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.”  But she was greatly perplexed at what he said, and kept carefully considering what kind of greeting this was….The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.

Highly favored, that’s what the angel told her; she had found favor with God.

“While they were [in Bethlehem] the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.  She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”

i’ve been pondering Gabriel’s words, coupled with all that lie ahead for Mary; all the loneliness, the misunderstandings, the rejections…. it would have been a long and exhausting 9 months.  then they arrive in Bethlehem to discover no room for them.  As Mary set up camp in that barn, did she grumble and stomp;

is this the way the Lord favors?

how many days did they stay there before the ‘time came for the baby to be born?’  a week, two?  uncomfortable and very pregnant, was she able to sleep?  did she snap at Joseph-had he tried-really tried- to find them somewhere else to stay?  the baby would be coming soon-were they to have him here?  Had God completely abandoned them?  were they so very alone?

He was despised and rejected by men, A Man of sorrows and pain and acquainted with grief; And like One from whom men hide their faces He was despised, and we did not appreciate His worth or esteem Him.

as the ones chosen to carry this Savior to term, to then love and parent him….did Mary and Joseph bear this same fate?

as a follower of this Savior-as one in whom He dwells….is this my story too?  when loneliness, fatigue and rejection set in, when the condition of my home is frustrating me, when the contrasts of this world seem to weigh heavier on the dark side…. will i grumble and stomp;

it this what it means to be highly favored?

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And if we are His children, then we are His heirs also: heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ [sharing His spiritual blessing and inheritance], if indeed we share in His suffering so that we may also share in His glory.

maybe for Mary, when she began to set up camp in that barn it went this way instead;

huh…this is not what i thought it’d be like in Bethlehem.  thank you Joseph for trying your best to make my bed of hay comfortable.  the baby will be coming soon.  let us pray for the strength we need.  Gabriel said i am highly favored.  God will be present here.  He will provide help.  we are not alone.

 

maybe for me too,  setting up camp in this life, it can go this way instead:  “He has said he is enthralled with my beauty, He keeps track of the stars, He dearly loves me.  God will be present here.  He will provide help.  i am not alone.

For I consider [from the standpoint of faith] that the sufferings of the present life are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is about to be revealed to us and in us!

 

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Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth Peace to men
on whom His favor rests

May you experience His assurance of His delight and deep deep love for you this Christmas season.  


To draw further in: Luke 1:28-38; Luke 2; Romans 8: 17-18 amp; Philippians 3:9-11; Isaiah 53:3; Isaiah 9:6; Psalm 45:11

 

remembering while we wait

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we are waiting…
we have not forgotten.

-Christmas Canon

it’s been cold these last couple weeks.  following an unseasonably warm fall, we’ve leaped off a cliff from 60 degrees down to 2.  wind whips while this mother and her son run across the parking lot dashing into the warmth of the auditorium.  shortly i’ll watch my boy dutifully put on his band concert-yawning and looking around as his stick keeps time on the cymbal.  he’s frustrated and bummed that his favorite teacher of all time took another job this year, leaving him behind to yawn his way through with one who yells at him if he attempts to jazz things up a bit.   “maybe things will be better next year in high school,” i offer-the only consolation i can think of-wondering if it sounds as lame to him as it does to me?

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she turns the  6 month chip around and around between thumb and finger, “i don’t understand why i would be tempted now?  i KNOW there is no life there, so why these urges to use again?”  this friend of hers fumbles through a prayer, hoping beyond hope that the One who hears will tend His little lamb as the Shepherd that He is.

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one of them sits comfortable and warm, in her fancy house with her fancy car and faithful servants to come and care for her child and clean her house.  another sits in a church, homeless and alone, but a warm bed and a home cooked meal greet her each evening as she and her toddler enter.  their lives seem so vastly different…..yet so very much the same. they battle their guilt and shame, deflecting off on to any inanimate object, seeking absolution from a statue made of wood.  her mind says it’s working, but her heart knows no release from the misery of living under shame’s heavy hand.  i wonder if there is any hope?  the only remedy i have to offer is left behind with the dinner as they each leave their respective table.  “thank you for coming.” says one as i gather my coat.  “thank you for giving me a comfortable place to rest.” says the other as i make the rounds to lock up for the night. tonight one will lay her head on an air mattress, the other a feather pillow.  tonight both will sleep with their souls crushed under a weight they cannot lift.

~~~~

type, delete, type delete.  i struggle to pray.  struggle to find words.  my tounge feels tied.  fatigue weighs heavy, thoughts swim around and around and around.  i had words yesterday when worship overwhelmed me.  i come faithfully to meet with the Object of yesterday’s worship, to draw on His strength, to find my words again.  just as i cannot force Him to appear in a way that i can grab hold of, so i cannot force words to flow in a way i can grab hold of either.  this advent i longed to offer more here.  but this is all i’ve got.

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we are all waiting.  my boy who is finding the class he used to love the most to be the one he likes the least.  my friend longing for the day when the urge to use is truly forever gone, never to catch her off guard again.  the two ladies i shared separate meals with, one homeless, the other affluent, both needing release from themselves.  and me, fighting for words to come, waiting for them to flow when i am able to receive them, pin them down, and share them here.  we are all waiting…..

rejoice! rejoice!
Immanuel
will come to you
o Israel.

in the wait…..i

have

not forgotten.

this will do

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sitting on the back porch the welcoming sounds of birds mixes with the edgy sounds of man and machine.  windows open mean the sounds will follow me inside-even the bird songs make it through, soft as they are.  the tea whistles and i cringe in fear i’ve ruined my quiet.  i laugh a bit at the irony of the thought.  but the birds and man and machine do not belong to me, nor do they require anything from me.  it’s both voluntary and hidden, my response to their presence.

June is here.  school has ended. mornings have slowed.

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my front garden is wild with columbine and pansies that i didn’t plant.  well, that’s not entirely true.  when we first moved here i had planted pansies in a pot for the front step-they grew well there so i repeated the process the next year.  but the squirrels and their constant overturning and digging and dragging them off finally had their way and i stopped altogether, throwing out the pots, now chipped and cracked from all the abuse.  a few years back i received a columbine plant as a mother’s day present.  waiting a bit too long i did nestle it in the ground, a lone beauty in a sea of unkempt attempts at making something of the plot of land i’d been handed.

but this year, my columbine, she has sisters galore.  they stand tall towards the back as though they are watching over their young pansy charges.

their beauty invites me in to pull up all the thorny weeds and dandelions.  i’ve been pining for a real landscaper with a real eye for composition and real knowledge of planting to come and give me something to work with, to joy in, to welcome me home.  last night, for the first time in the 7 years we’ve made our way here, i walked the path to the door gazing at this bed freshly weeded and breathed;

this’ll do.

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my soul is weary from a long winter.  spring arrived out the windows and moved into summer, yet my soul struggled to take notice or nourishment.  aware of the bone deep fatigue all the while life buzzes around i have been paying attention.  “this is why missionaries have furloughs” i tell myself.  “you are not that type of missionary” i respond.  and there is truth to those words.  but the need for a ‘furlough’ of sorts is real along with the understanding that it will look its own way.  so i’ve been sitting with myself, stealing moments when they come, gently requiring nothing of the time.  no figuring things out.  no formulating plans for a different way of living.  instead letting the anger pour out, the sorrow, the loneliness, alongside the amazement and joy and beauty.  allowing repentance to do it’s lovely work and security to come from being seen by the One who knows my frame.

      I have always imagined gratitude as a kind of discipline.  It is a practice.  A choice.  I still think this is true.  However, I begin to glimpse a long-buried and misguided assumption.  I have believed that the practice of noticing good gifts in my life would widen some sort of divine exchange.  As if noticing the gifts and giving thanks for them could bring me more of what i noticed.

These days are dark, and I sometimes think I glimpse floodwaters rising.  Yet because of November’s emphasis on gratitude, I cannot help but lift up my eyes to the mountains (Ps. 121:1)

What if gratitude is more about seeing the face of God?  Of locking our eyes on his and remembering where our help comes from?  Perhaps gratitude is not only a discipline but also a gift, one we are given in special measure just before we pass through the door to suffering.

Christie Purifoy; Roots & Sky-A Journey Home in Four Seasons

 

hope for the unsuccessful

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it is a difficult thing to be entrusted with living breathing small humans, tasked with the job of guiding them into adulthood.  this morning after yet another rough dialog i find myself in a place of needing to do some work, of not having time to waste, and yet being so full of all the emotions that i can’t focus or move forward.  tears cloud my vision, discouragement and despair threaten to take over.  teenagers are complicated as are middle aged adult women (such as me).

i find it so easy to lose sight of the forest for the trees these days.

IMG_3403two weeks ago i prepared a training session for a group of women who lead school age students in bible study.  the remains of this session spill from my pile of papers. but of course, i sigh as i kneel down to pick them up.  providentially one of the papers catches hold of my tear-filled eye and i pay attention.

i’d given each group a piece of paper with a line down the middle and the words successful and unsuccessful at the top.  the instructions were to list off things that make them feel this way in their classrooms.  then i gave them a fill in the blank sheet to complete as i recited the following truths:

Looking to God’s purpose vs. a personal sense of success.

i…prefer things to go smoothly, and feel more comfortable when i’m in control.

God….often works through human weakness and failure, and invites me to yield to His control.

Being prepared and purposeful is important and necessary.  It is good and nice to have a classroom run smoothly….

yet…

The struggles i face do not represent failure, but opportunity for growth…and to see God do amazing things through an unlikely vessel such as myself.  it is more important that God is glorified than that i feel successful.

it is more important that God is glorified than that i feel successful.

True success is allowing God’s higher purposes to prevail.

in light of all of this…how will my inner dialog change?  how will my prayers change?

 

IMG_3545i prepared that lesson, i read those words out loud two weeks ago.  today it’s as if i’m seeing them for the first time.  choosing to reject the mocking of myself about that and instead letting them wash over me afresh, in this moment, after this particular argument, with this particular child.

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methods and mothers may fail (guilty and guilty)
children may falter and fail

God’s love never fails.
God’s higher purpose prevails.

 and that right there brings me such a depth of hope and a settled calm.  my inner dialog does change, and so do my prayers.

maybe you too?


to draw further in:  meditating on Matthew 11:25-30, Hebrews 2-4 and what it means to make every effort to enter into the Rest/Easy Yoke of Jesus.

 

returning to worship

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Thanksgiving vs. Christmas

this year, for the first time in ever, Christmas has infiltrated my Thanksgiving fortress.

all the kids have Thanksgiving week off and we have a road trip planned.  This road trip has nothing to do with Thanksgiving, or Christmas for that matter, it’s just that it coincided time off for everyone and resources available to travel.  we’ve been planning and anticipating for ages, focusing in on the states and sights and mapping our course.  to say we are all excited is quite the under-statement and it’s just now sinking in that we are also in the midst of the holiday season.

because of being gone for these last two Sunday’s in November, i had to begin the Advent study i’m leading early to fit all the lessons in.  and a few of the sights we’ve picked for our trip will be all decked out for Christmas.

in the middle of the night, with study and trip prep swirling around inside my head, something occurred to me.  as i pondered the advent lessons and anticipated the Christmasy sights headed our way, i was reminded of my stubborn battle cry of; “no things Christmas until after Thanksgiving….by golly we will be thankful thankful thankful!!” and i became doubly aware that this resistance has little to do with Christ, and everything to do with culture. in my fight against culture, i’ve inadvertently bought into the lie of what Christmas is actually about.

i know what Christmas is about.  we decorate with nativity sets and have a Bible under our tree instead of presents.  We bring Christ into it in every way possible.

do you see the subtle lie woven into what i just said?  We bring Christ into it? is not the whole of Christmas Christ bringing Himself to us?  (que the music; and the soul felt it’s worth)

as i’ve begun early to meditate on Christ’s coming, as i’ve prepped for our trip and a Thanksgiving week different than it’s ever been, i’ve realized that in my fight to keep Christ in Christmas and Thankfulness in Thanksgiving, i’ve unknowingly declared that the world has triumphed and the battle is mine to wage.  this year, the Spirit who speaks to the churches has been infiltrating my heart in a whole new way-as He does year by year, month by month, day by day, hour by hour.  it’s a re-setting of worship, and it looks a little like pondering the Christ-child early;  a little like being awe-struck and immensely thankful for the babe in a manger, a Lamb come to save His people from their sins.  a little like breaking through my stubborn resolve and allowing the fluidness of the Spirit to be my guide instead.

….regardless of what the calendar says.


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on paris and suffering

these days haven’t been completely consumed with prepping for our trip and the stuff of life.  i’ve seen the news headlines and read the reports.  we as a family also watch and pray for the persecuted and my heart has held a vigil for those in N. Korea for years.  we’ve people near and dear suffering just down the road and our prayers for healing continue to be prayed without seeing any visible results.

i’ve no profound words today to offer that would do anything for all the questions.  but there are those who do and i wanted to point to them:

Seth Haines book Coming Clean just released last month.  it’s a book about pain and faith and offers such nourishment and companionship to anyone else who has experienced suffering and the questions that come. (which, unless i’m missing something, would include all of humanity.)

Emily Freemon offers us a Prayer for those who are grieving.  

and a couple of years on the tail end of a fire that was on the tail end of a different fire there was a flood-and i penned some words about it-taking comfort from this song by Christa Wells that she is now offering for free: This Thing is Not Going to Break You 


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both the art of these fine artists and the Spirit’s movement in my heart lift my eyes away from the calendar and the newscasts pointing them instead towards the One who was and is and is to come.

thus, worship is restored.


to draw further in:  Revelation 4 and 5, Romans 8, Matthew 1, Luke 1-2

 

 

a bit of housekeeping

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it’s been nearly a full two weeks since the last day of school and each and every day i have had  an idea, a plan of sorts, for our waking hours.  and i have yet had one day go according to plan.  i sit here on the fence between establishing a scaffold for our time and resting in the One who is actually in control.  these things need not compete with one another, but daily disappointments need tender tending if i’m not to grow cynical and give up all together.

i intentionally planted those pansies.  the squirrels intentionally uproot them and drag them outside of the pot.  i wake to find them strewn across my yard and re-pot them.  i can not make the squirrels stop.  eventually i cry uncle and let the pot be.  but then i see, there in the upturned dirt, with roots barely even covered, this plant fights back and blooms.  so i tuck it back in a bit and bask in the beauty.  and i allow the Spirit to work in my heart, enabling my eyes to see the beauty planted in each of these unpredictable days, to keep plugging away at the work though the progress is slower than i’d hoped.

progress.  it’s always slower than i hope.

so it goes here.  i’ve multiple drafts for the life series, among other things.  and i’ve begun work on some of the technical aspects of this space as well.  over there in the sidebar there is now a way to sign up to receive posts in your inbox.  i know my writing is not predictable, and this will allow you to receive an email with the post each time one is published.

i appreciate all of you who stick it out with me and this space, thank you thank you.  if you try out the e-mail thing and find anything not working, drop me a line at mel at lucashome dot net.

and may you know that deep comfort from the One who brings out the starry host one by one, and calls them by name.  Because of His mighty strength and great power, not one of them is missing, not a one.  He is keeping track of the stars, and oh so much more, He is keeping track of you and me!


to draw further in: Isaiah 40, quoted above is verse 26

 

life | in anguish

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God does not keep a man immune from trouble; He says -“I will be with him in trouble.” It does not matter what actual troubles in the most extreme form get hold of a man’s life, not one of them can separate him from his relationship to God.  We are “more than conquerors in all these things.”  Paul is not talking of imaginary things, but of things that are desperately actual; and he says we are super-victors in the midst of them, not by our ingenuity, or by our courage, or by anything other than the fact that not one of them affects our relationship to God in Jesus Christ.  Rightly or wrongly, we are where we are, exactly in the condition we are in.

“Shall tribulation…..?” Let tribulation be what it may-exhausting, galling, it is not able to separate us from the love of God.  Never let cares or tribulations separate you from the fact that God loves you.

“Shall anguish….?” -can God’s love hold when everything says that His love is a lie, and that there is no such thing as justice?

“Shall famine….?” -can we not only believe in the love of God but be more than conquerors, even while we are being starved?

Either Jesus Christ is a deceiver and Paul is deluded, or some extraordinary thing happens to a man who holds on to the love of God when the odds are against God’s character.  Logic is silenced in the face of every one of these things.  Only one thing can account for it-the love of God in Christ.

“Out of the wreck I rise” every time.

-Oswald Chambers

a series exploring the concept of life- what it is and what it means to have it.

a series exploring the concept of life- what it is and what it means to have it.


 

to draw further in; Romans 8

life | dreaming

 

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my boys, they talk of firemen and joining the army and playing baseball for lots of money.  my girl, at the wise old age of 2, announced she wanted to be a garbage man when she grew up.  “cause then i can make all the children of the neighborhood happy.”  fully believing that every child enjoyed watching that garbage truck come and pick up the trash in its especially interesting way.

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she glowed with excitement as an eight year old girl, when she described what she dreamed of becoming when all grown and out on her own.

and i did what any mother of an eight year old does.  shared her delight and encouraged her in her dream.  not because i thought she knew anymore than that 2 year old aspiring garbage collector knew.

i delighted in her dream because i delighted in her.

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here we are, this grown taller than me fifteen year old and i, and that eight-year old dream still resides in her heart.  she’s more passionate now and carries more wisdom than her eight-year old self.  she’s experienced more of life and more of joy and more of sorrow.  the dream has taken the shape of a calling, a calling from the One who knit her together and mapped out her course.  and the invitation has come to this mother to watch out for the opportunities to spur her on into who she is.

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those watching seem to find themselves perplexed and needing to form conclusions.  we visited a campus this past weekend, you see, and i’ve heard so many declarations of; “wow, you are on top of things” as if we held some superpower they lacked.  or; “a campus visit as a sophomore?  why didn’t you wait?” as if we lacked some wisdom they held.

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the truth is i don’t know what i’m doing, mothering these kids.  what i do know is that the One who knits together and gives desires is holding their future in His hands.  and He’s entrusted me with walking alongside them as they journey into who He is making them to be.  and He’s been teaching me about becoming.  about becoming more fully myself.  about listening to the desires of my heart and unpacking them in His presence.  and as He’s gifted me with encouragers along my way, i have drunk deep from refreshing springs when the journey feels foolish and stupid and wasteful.  so why would i offer my daughter something else?

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i have no idea how we ended up far from home in an airplane hanger listening to all it takes to become a missionary pilot.  i don’t recall how we learned of this school.  or why, when the postcard came inviting us to Experience Spokane!, we took notice and decided to go.  this wasn’t a well-thought out plan.  i’d like to think that this is the movement of that Spirit who hovered over the waters and brought forth light.  that the One who called to Abram to leave and go to the place He would show him, calls forth Abraham’s children to follow step by step still.  that maybe He who breathed the starry host into existence, can enable an absent minded mother to tune into the symphony He is forming within her daughter….. His daughter.  i have lived long enough to know that it is entirely possible that this movement towards flight school may or may not produce a missionary pilot at its end. regardless, any movement towards the direction of the Spirit contains its own promised end….

…the eyes of your heart enlightened
in order that you may know the hope
to which He has called you,
the riches
of His glorious inheritance in the saints,
and His incomparably great power
for us who believe.

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maybe, just maybe, a dream is an invitation from the One who gathers the waters of the sea into jars.  “Take Courage,” He says; “it is I, don’t be afraid.”

step into your dream, my child, and live

 

a series exploring the concept of life- what it is and what it means to have it.

a series exploring the concept of life- what it is and what it means to have it.


to draw further in: Ephesians 1; Psalm 33; Genesis 1, 12

1st – 4th and 6th photos taken by Hannah, 5th and 7th by me on our recent trip to Spokane, WA

 

life | retrieved

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He surrounds himself with words.  fine sounding arguments to deal with the broken places.  i stand alone in his space and i read them and grieve over how far away from truth and real healing he is.  i lose hope.

but i do remain in that place of acceptance.  acceptance for where he is at and what he is able to give and receive.  another kind of death assigned to me is this relationship.  great glory goes to the Father of the fatherless for the way He enables me to love this man who is limited in his ability to love in return, to love in a way i desire to be loved.  and there is still great weakness and fear that remains in how i’m relating.  i am fully aware of the trembling inside when conversations begin to shift in uncomfortable directions.  i find my own self coping through diversions and distractions, keeping things safe.  i lose myself in the presence of others here, but when it is quiet, the One who gives sight to the blind helps me to see.

Finding the Love that Retrieves at www.everybitterthingissweet.com

in the dark of the night we stand debating over another one far gone and a false prophet among us.  the scene shifts and i find myself in an arena full of those held captive by Balaam and his deceptions.  searching through my belongings, they grab hold of my blue bound book, the one with my name inscribed on the front.  they empty it of the treasures i’ve tucked inside, passing them out to bystanders and mocking me in the process.  i don’t care, i snatch it back-letting the little things go, knowing that the real treasure is the pages and words contained within.  taking my seat, i’m discovered by the other truth bearers who’ve infiltrated these ranks and we band together standing united against the fray.  it’s invigorating and delightful to find i’m not standing alone.

and then i wake up.  it was only a dream.

light H

i look over at his chair and i remember sara’s words.  i remember how far the Mighty Warrior Jesus went to retrieve me.  the dream brings into focus the truth of the battle, the truth of what i stand on and cling to, the truth that there are fellow soldiers who have infiltrated the enemy’s territory.  i rise and retrieve that blue bound book with my name engraved on the front.  The Spirit brings to mind words and i turn page after page searching them out.  and then i breathe them in.  my Hope Bearer fills me with renewed hope all the while reminding me of my source of worth and joy, lest i misunderstand and stumble into expectations and seeking where worth and joy cannot be found.

Oh Lord, You are my God!  i will exalt You and praise Your name-
for in Perfect Faithfulness
You have done marvelous things…

This is what the Lord says;
I have seen his ways, BUT i will heal him;
I will guide him and restore comfort to him,
creating praise on the lips of the mourners in Israel.

Can plunder be taken from warriors?
or captives rescued from the fierce?
But this is what the Lord says;
Yes
captives will be taken
and plunder retrieved.

ladder

life begins when the Source of life retrieves.  i know this.

i forgot this.

i have renewed hope for this one who surrounds himself with fine sounding arguments.  he is seeking life where it cannot be found, but i do recognize that it is life that he is seeking.  i also recognize that the current god he’s bowing to is successfully tricking him into thinking he’s found it and there is no hope in that.  rather, my hope is in the Mighty One who is Mightier, the Powerful One who is more Powerful.  that greater is He in me than he that is in the world. i hope because Life Himself retrieves captives from the fierce.

See now that I Myself am He!
there is no god besides Me.
I put to death and I bring to life,
I have wounded and I will heal,
and no one can deliver out of My hand.

life

a series exploring the concept of life- what it is and what it means to have it.


to draw further in;  Colossians 2:1-8; Romans 16:17-18;  2 Peter 3:3-9; Isaiah 25; 57:18; 49:25; Psalm 119:72

 

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