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August 29, 2013

What audacity we have, to be in love. To take on the highest challenge the Divine flings at us, to be like Him. To hold another’s heart in our hands, and promise to keep it safe- we know not what it is we do. When we ask to come under the shelter of another, to stop running and lean into the protection of his arms- when we allow another to lean into the protection of ours- surely we know not what it is we do. For if we did, few would be in love. would hold another’s heart in our hands, knowing who it is we are. To promise shelter and protection, when we cannot save ourselves. To be in love, when surely we will wound the one we love. What we ask for is grace, a shot at redemption. A chance to prove we are children of God. That we can be forgiven, that we can be restored. What we’re really doing, when we are in love, is asking: for healing, for acknowledgment, for reconciliation.

August 24, 2013

i once was lost in darkest night
yet thought i knew the way
the sin that promised joy and life
had led me to the grave
i had no hope that you would own
a rebel to your will
and if you had not loved me first
i would refuse you still

but as i ran my hell-bound race
indifferent to the cost
you looked upon my helpless state
and led me to the cross
and i beheld God’s love displayed
you suffered in my place
you bore the wrath reserved for me
now all i know is grace

hallelujah! all i have is Christ
hallelujah! Jesus is my life

what luther said

August 23, 2013

August 20, 2013

When we are despairing, we can choose to live as Israelites gathering manna. For 40 long years, God’s people daily eat manna—a substance whose name literally means “What is it?” Hungry, they choose to gather up that which is baffling. They fill on that which has no meaning. More than 14,600 days they take their daily nourishment from that which they don’t comprehend. They find soul-filling in the inexplicable.

They eat the mystery.
They eat the mystery.
And the mystery, that which made no sense, is “like wafers of honey” on the lips.
A pickup drives into the lane. I watch from the window, two brothers meeting, talking, then hand gestures mirroring each other. I think of buried babies and broken, weeping fathers over graves, and a world pocked with pain, and all the mysteries I have refused, refused, to let nourish me. If it were my daughter, my son? Would I really choose the manna? I only tremble, wonder. With memories of gravestones, of combing fingers through tangled hair, I wonder too … if the rent in the canvas of our life backdrop, the losses that puncture our world, our own emptiness, might actually become places to see.

To see through to God.

That that which tears open our souls, those holes that splatter our sight, may actually become the thin, open places to see through the mess of this place to the heart-aching beauty beyond. To Him. To the God whom we endlessly crave.
Maybe so.

But how? How do we choose to allow the holes to become seeing-through-to-God places? To more-God places?
How do I give up resentment for gratitude, gnawing anger for spilling joy? Self-focus for God-communion.
To fully live—to live full of grace and joy and all that is beauty eternal. It is possible, wildly.

I now see and testify.
So this story—my story.
A dare to an emptier, fuller life.

– Ann Voskamp

24 days/ story of my life

August 19, 2013

August 18, 2013

I had a strange dream just before I woke up. We had discovered the treasure heart of a pharaoh’s tomb, and were searching for the ultimate- something, which we couldn’t find. Gold coins and rich artifacts were everywhere in the vast hall. A simple black and white mask was lying on the ground. I put it on and felt energy entering. I stood up, waved my hands and stopped the booby traps swinging above us. I also opened an entrance to an underworld still existing from pharaoh’s time. I was heralded and welcomed, but my workers were not. They wanted to return home, but were barred.

thereby causing the tears that i’d kept up to now, to spill.

i don’t deserve love, i tell her. not after what i’ve done. i didn’t mean to, it hadn’t looked like this that day, if i’d known, i wouldn’t have… but who would believe me? i have stained hands, guilty as hell.

the biggest day of my life, the only day of my life that matters is the day Jesus returns for his bride. His bride will wear white, and only because He has made it so.