Grace-period

Jesus, Lord of my life... How are you my Lord and I am a mess? I want to follow you so much that it twists my insides in the longing , But my outsides remain frustrated, short tempered, and accused. Lord of all creation... You have power and authority over all things,  But you have not brought this struggling soul into full submission.  LORD... You are the I AM,  But I am in need, of nothing as much as your power.  These defects, in response and in personality, strangle me, Leeching the now and even the yet to be from me.  They steal my hope and snatch the meager dreams that I dare.  I am without shelter or care in this long night. The full bodied moon mocks me as it dances playfully with sheer clouds. I am alone. I am broken, and I am trapped within my brokenness.  Change me. CHANGE ME.  Lord, I beg. LORD, I beg. But I know I am not worth your glance, your pause.  I am inconsequential...

I like to belly laugh but dislike soul shaken sobs I raise my face to the wind but turn away from the sun I believe better is possible but know worst is probable I desire to respond in faith but tend to react in fear I follow after one but travel with the many I am here and I am no where These threads between now and then and yet...bind me to unchanging Unchanging internally but with two natures Solid resignation with sprinkle of hope Mid night blue drapes and a spattering of crystal diamonds Always the same but never steady

Christmas season is here.  Families are going into closets for decorations, tidying up for visitors, making preparations for parties. But that doesn't mean that their lives stop.  Daily life continues and messes will be made.  When the visitors come and the parties happen, there may be a place that the host would rather their guests not see, or at least not look closely.  It could be dust on a shelf that was missed or the children's room or the garage.  It could be a room named "the junk room" or sometimes called a craft room where odds and ends are tucked away, or piled. We all have some piles somewhere. That is what I woke up praying about today. Father, I need you.  I need your help.  My life piles around me-books to be read and books read but not returned to their shelf, clothing to wash and clothing washed but not slipped into drawers, school work to complete and school work to put those finishing touches on so it can be sent off for grading....

My heart is full of burden.  My spirit is heavy.  My eyes well with tears.  My brain turns with ideas and regrets and plans but does not know rest.  My bones ache as I move through the days with this weight.  Of my world.  Of the world?  I am tired but cannot sleep. Until the morning when I lie there pondering how the day might unfold poorly, adding to the weight. Depression is not unfamiliar to me.  If it were simply discontentment with the way my world is, I would divorce the husband, move to another town, ride a scooter, speak a different language.  Whatever it would take to find joy.  But it isn't my external world.  It is the internal world.  Despite having a dear man who tries to love me, despite a job that I enjoy more often than not, despite a faith in a God who holds me close, despite all sorts of goodness and purpose in my life, this internal burden nags and holds me back. Much of the time it is manageable. ...

I should have known what the message would be. I have been studying Colossians as the current sermon series has been camped out in the 3rd chapter. I knew what was left, but I forgot. And I went to the church gathering anyway. “Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives and do not be harsh with them.”       Colossians 3:18-19 There goes the “S” word again. It isn’t as scary as it once was. I love my husband. But that doesn’t mean it is easy. Really, the fact that there was so much time spent on defining submission annoyed me. It seems simple: if a husband loves his wife like Christ loves the Church, it is easy for a wife to submit. There would be lots more sex and home cooked meals. It seems so straightforward: husbands need to love wives better.  Simple, perhaps, but yet there is sin, and struggle, and fear. We both have needs and desires that we fight to meet, sometimes even fighting against each...

A series that I did in the past was Armchair QB-Monday morning meditations, sometimes critiques unfortunately, on the pastor’s sermon.  For those that became critiques, I feel quite ashamed. As a speaker, we merely ask to be God’s mouthpiece to share the truth that the Holy Spirit desires someone hear.  Ultimately, it is God who must show up and even show off at times. When God shows off, I can’t help but smile widely. Sunday morning He was showing off.  I have been meditating on God’s holiness lately and trying to sort out what my response has been, and what it should be. While I haven’t been to Hope lately, and this sounds quite presumptuous, God met me there. Holiness was in the fellowship, in the worship, in the message. Perhaps it is always there, but I finally had eyes to see it and ears to hear it.  Hope still sung off key and off tempo, but the melody rose to affirm His otherness and our humility. On that frigid January morning, friends and strangers...

Today is the feast of the Epiphany. One of my favorite holidays. Traditionally it is celebrates when the three kings found the baby Jesus. For me, it is about the treasure we all may find at the end of the search.  “ You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:13 NIV The treasure I thought I had found in grace. Perhaps I was short sighted. Maybe I simply was so taken aback by grace that I didn’t need, or want, to look further. While swimming in God’s lavish grace has been delightful, lately something is different. I still live in this Grace-period, breathing only because of His grace & mercy, but there is more now. In this space of His silence, I find it filled with God’s holiness which seems to judge my reliance on grace, at least as I perceived it.  My reliance on grace brought on a cozy familiarity that seemed to remove the holiness, the otherness, of God for me. It isn’t that God wasn’t God, but the focus on grace dr...