First light of morning, you shine on my face,
Washing me joyfully of the night. "The time for sleeping has ended, awake! Awake and look to the light." Every waking is a resurrection, The day has come to invite us again to live. Whether short or long in the night, Restless or at peace, God sang over us as we slept, Now it is time we join His song of joy, For His mercies are new again, Like fresh baked bread, And His grace is present, Like the breath in our lungs, And His love is faithful still, As faithful in the day as it was in the night. I didn't know I missed fried chicken until its smell meandered into my nose and my heart felt at home in an instant.
I didn't know instant coffee would so quickly become familiar, but it has and I'm grateful for it. I didn't know how grounding it was to be invited into a dance, grab hands, adjust to the rhythm new to me, and sweat, and laugh as we left the building to dance out in the rainy night. God is doing a new thing, and as I taste and see, I begin to perceive it. It comes with warm days and mosquitoes and singing through dark stormy nights about His goodness and being honest about what hurts without letting it overwhelm us, because we've been gifted with a grace that binds us together under a banner of love. This bread and fish placed into my trembling hands as I sit still on a hillside wondering who this man of God is standing before me, this bread and fish are small things with startling significance: He saw that I was hungry; He gave me fresh food to eat. Actually, there is more than enough here. There are leftovers. Who will they feed?
--- One day my young son looked over at my dusty feet and asked me, "Abba, where did your sandals come from?" I looked at him and look down and realized that in his few years of life, he'd only ever known wandering, and I'd had these sandals since before we left Egypt. It's been years, decades even, and they haven't worn out. Like the manna each morning, the cloud, the pillar of flame, amidst all the change there have been constants, things that remained. --- It was more of a show and more attention than I ever wanted, being lowered down through that roof. I did not ask for it, but my friends, they are persistent. They had heard this man from Nazareth had a gift of healing, he had even cleansed leprosy, so they believed my body could be changed by his touch, too. But it was what he said to my heart that undid me. "Have courage, son, your sins are forgiven." Thankfully the eyes of everyone were on him as the sob broke from my chest at his words. Forgiven. Free. Now I can stand to praise God for the grace He gave me When I said yes to you then, it wasn't on a whim.
You didn't shelter me from the cost, nor from the beauty of living life daily with you. A friend reminded me recently that while we know our bodies carry the weight of our histories, our bodies are also crafted to bear glory, God's glory. Yes, the death and hardship are real and, yes, the resurrection and the life are, too. This kind of letting someone in is a commitment to vulnerability, to "search me and know me." It is a choice to let my heart be softened every day to what you have to say, to your thoughts, to your questions, a choice not to be defensive towards you. "Do not be in a hurry to leave the king's presence." In fact, I need not ever leave. You are always here with me and somehow your nearness is not smothering, it is a widening of my eyes and ears and arms and heart to love others as you love me. I've noticed shops open up here like flowers
Responding to the light of the sun: Unraveling their petals to reveal their substance, Offering sustenance to any passerby. Traffic moves like conversation between siblings, Full of interruptions and squeals and gestures, Sometimes bickering, and still we all go along together, Flowing around each other organically. Laundry and flower boxes hang indiscriminately From windows, waving away pretense in an instant, For we all have clothes to dry and beauty to share, And the open air is a good place to let things breathe. Children join the throng out in the streets In all their brightness and brashness, Zipping through on scooters and bikes, Or sleeping easily in the tumble of activity. Greetings bubble up like laughter From one neighbor to another, Coffee bar chatter pops and rumbles, too, Like the clatter of the high heels on the sidewalk. photo by Josh Bell Be brought alone into this quiet space. Let your thoughts float above your head, Let your emotions sit across from you and speak, See how their hands knead and fidget; Understand what spurs them to such motion And then welcome them back in to be felt in full. In this quiet space, breathe and move at your given pace, At the speed you need in these moments of recognition, Whether slow or a finally-in-motion thrust, Move as you must here where the air is clear. Step outside under the open sky, tilt your head back, Wonder at the blue wrapping around this world, At the air and gravity and motion keeping your feet on the ground, Breathe again, take your time, really take your time, There is grace to simply be alive. the critical point in a situation, process, or system beyond which a significant and often unstoppable effect or change takes place
Meriam Webster I've been shepherded to a point From which I do not want to return, For my Beloved has beckoned me, Has opened the eyes of my heart To the beauty of His love in such a way That numbness no longer has final say, For my heart has been made new. Love does not force, Love gives every opportunity. "Will you take another step with Me?" Yes, my love, I'll take another step, For you have always been trustworthy, You have always been faithful, You have always been honest, giving freely. At every step the cost is everything, again, For there is no resurrection Without real and full death. Die daily to live abundantly, Die daily to taste and see That the daily bread of His presence is good, Die daily and find Him worthy who died once for all. My long-suffering Love, You forgave my debt of five thousand, So I choose to steward these five talents well, You saved me from sin, From the bondage of self-centeredness, You choose to regard me through yourself. My Lord, I bend to your sovereignty, I yield to the way you see, I step forth in this desolate place And let your love unravel the graveclothes That have swallowed me until now Now, let what is mortal be swallowed up By life. mis pies van con gracia
porque la luz de paz está mi compañero esta luz no cambia con las preguntas de mi corazon esta luz tiene lo mismo calma y alegría hoy como se muestrado todos los dias antes las preguntas de mi corazon frequentamente traen dolor y es dificil para mi quiero estar una persona de esperanza quiero llevar la luz fielmente como la luz me sostiene spirito santo, la luz que no cambia, gracias para tu presencia gracias para tu paciencia la confianza en que descansas me enseña mucho siempre vas con fe Gentle
God unafraid of my mess You are gentle with me In the process I try to stir myself up With Joshua's call To be strong and courageous You remind me Your Presence is all my strength You are my refuge and Rock The hard place in which I hide You remind me It is in the wound on Your side Where You were pierced Innocent One In that open wound from which blood And water flowed freely In that place is where I am held daily For You are God unafraid of my mess When You come Fear runs So let these cracks in my heart open wider Be exposed To let Your Spirit flow within me To let Your light pour out from my brokenness Like Lazarus may I wait in death For Your perfect deliverance You are compassionate You are compassionate God with me in suffering God incarnate in pain You are compassionate And full of grace You are gentle Your gentleness Holds me even here there is mold growing behind the mirror I look in every morning,
so with a great crash you allowed it to fall. no longer is death allowed to live in hidden spaces, no longer will a falsely clean reflection mask what lies behind, it is time for the real to be exposed, made known, let die. it is time for something new. |
AuthorI write to process. I write to explore. I write with the hope of sharing truth greater than my own. Archives
February 2022
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