Post Category → scripture

power [edit]*

Jameson and I enjoyed our little breakfast routine, which includes him emptying my kitchen cupboards while I read, pray, and journal. Then, just as I was formulating a great post full of inspirational thoughts, our power went out. Guess this area can’t quite cope with pouring rain and a bit of wind. As long as my house is built to survive earthquakes, I won’t complain.

I quickly started coming up with rainy-day-and-no-electricity plans: go to the library, make the Christmas returns, go to Ikea for fun because it takes so long just to walk through, etc. Well, the library was a success. The other plans, not so much: power was out in all of the stores, too.

Just when I thought I was going to freeze to death, go blind from trying to read in the rainy gloom, and be sick from filling up on candy because I didn’t want to open the refridgerator, the power came back on. Yay!

Ironically, the passage I had just read as the light flickered off this morning was Psalm 27: “The Lord is my light and my salvation.”

The Lord is my light.

If the Lord is my light, I pondered, then I know I’ll never be in the dark. He is forever the same, His presence surrounds me, and He is the light of my life.

And then the lights went out. Must be God thought it was a good day for object lessons.

[edit: I guess it’s not just a little bit of wind and rain. I’ll cut the electric company a little slack. I guess.]

gracious

I love the Lord, because He hears
My voice and my supplications.
Because He has inclined His ear to me,
Therefore I shall call upon Him as long as I live.
The cords of death encompassed me
And the terrors of Seol came upon me;
I found distress and sorros,
Then I called upon te name of the Lord;
“O Lord, I beseech You, save my life!”

Gracious is the Lord, and righteous;
Yes, our God is compassionate.
The Lord preserves the simple;
I was brought low, and He saved me.
Return to your rest, O my soul,
For the Lord has dealt bountifully with you.
For You have rescued my soul from death,
My eyes from tears,
My feet from stumbling.
I shall walk before the Lord
In the land of the living… (— psalm 116)

a time for weeping.

For those who may not know, my friend Liz has suffered a great, great tragedy.

This sorrow has gripped me, and so many, since we learned of the crash. This is an occasion where we need not remind ourselves to weep with those who weep; our tears spill freely. We wake with a start over and over: even in sleep, we bear this burden.

My heart cannot comprehend her loss, but not from lack of trying. I ache with compassion. My soul hurts with attempts at empathy. And my mind is stunned.

This is darkness, overwhelming and blinding.

And amazingly, this is when the comfort comes, for God does not deny the darkness we must walk through. He does not pretend our suffering is trivial. And He does not require us to somehow transcend the pain in order to find Him. No, He is not a God like other gods. He is a God who meets us in Reality. He is a God who is known in the muck and mire of Time. He is I AM, and when we stop trying to shut out life, and instead look for Him in the midst of it, we know Him in ways we never would have imagined.

This is one thing I love best about our God.

He’s right in the midst. Emmanuel. He doesn’t wait for us to attain heaven; no, “even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death… You are with me,” and “If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there… Your hand will lead me, and Your right hand will lay hold of me.”

He’s right there, and He can transform our ashes. He can bring light to the worst blackness of our souls, for, “Even the darkness is not dark to You, and the night is as bright as the day.”

*****

So now we weep. And it is right that we do so. There is a time for weeping, and this is it. But as we weep, we’ll comfort one another with these words, words that take on a whole new life when heard through the waves of anguish:

“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus. For this we say to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive and remain will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we shall always be with the Lord.” –1 thessalonians 4

*****

We love you, Liz.

great is thy faithfulness

Like Mom, I’ve had this hymn a little stuck on replay for the last week. This morning I woke up with “Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,” on my mind. And so once again, I sang it to Jameson — and to the Lord:

Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father;
There is no shadow of turning with Thee.
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not;
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided
Great is Thy Faithfulness, Lord unto me.

Summer and winter and spring-time and harvest,
Sun, moon and stars in their courses above
join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,
Thy own dear presence to cheer and to guide,
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

I love to cultivate the habit of giving thanks for everything: the food, the smell of fallen leaves, the colorful tapers burning on my mantel… But I also love meditation such as this hymn inspires — the understanding that those ten thousand blessing aside, the greatest of all is the gospel.

Strength for today…

I am thankful for so many things, but this morning I am overwhelmingly refreshed by the thought that He is all I need. In Him, I have everything. Knowing Him today, and knowing one day I’ll behold His face — that is everything.

That is my strength for today, and my exceedingly bright hope for tomorrow.

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by Him all things were created, both in the heavens and on the earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities — all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. He is also head of the body, the church; and He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that He Himself will come to have first place in everything. For it was the Father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile all things to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross; through Him, I say, whether things on earth or things in heaven. –colossians 1

i have been…

…eating apple pie, made yesterday for the last supper. It’s a new crust recipe. And it’s a keeper.

…thinking about David. How he didn’t shirk or doubt the will of God — even when it was obscure, ridiculed, and plain old dangerous. Even when it may have left him scratching his head and wondering if he really was in the will of God.

…listening to Alison Krauss. Again. When I listen to her, I feel like I’m supposed to: closer to 30 than 16. Yes, the days of Gwen are being left behind.

…spending a chunk of change at Target. It’s not much fun to watch them ring up the bill for things like, oh, saran wrap and garbage bags. There oh so many more fun things I could buy… Oh well. I guess this is life closer to 30 than 16.

…loving today’s focus: his future.

Having a vision doesn’t necessarily mean knowing the specifics about what is going to happen next. It has to do with sensing the general direction you’re moving in and having hope that something good is on the horizon. It’s knowing that you do have a future and a purpose, and that it is bright.

If the Law of the Lid is true, then I want a husband who is gripped, continually, by a vision of eternity and his destiny in God. That’s worth praying for, don’t you think?

babies

Have you seen this one?

Mmmm. Nice memories.

Have you seen this one?

Last night, when he was safely tucked in under a generous layering of quilts (brrr!), I slipped out to the couch where Ryan was coding [working]. And for the longest time, we just smiled, sighed, and talked about what a blessing our little man is.

We spend entire evenings enjoying his silly games, making him giggle, or just being quiet while he contentedly plays and looks at books. He doesn’t stay in his play corner for long, though. He has to touch base regularly with a pat on our legs, a quick cuddle on a lap, or just scrunching up his little face and making us laugh with him. What a joy he is.

I read her post last night and had to smile: sound just like Jameson! I don’t even know how often or how many times he wakes at night, but the general answer to those questions is frequently and many. Plenty of mornings I’ve wondered if I’m doing something wrong, if I need to do something more, if he’ll ever sleep an entire night in his own bed… A few days ago, I read her article (again!), and was strengthened again to do this mothering thing the way that I feel the Lord calling me. You can’t out-give God — and that’s true for me, right now, in this season of my life when giving to God looks like giving to my family.

Mostly, I just know that this is what the Lord has asked of me, the instincts He put in my heart, and it’s my response to His call to do and give my very best. And so as wonderful as it is for Jameson, as bonding as it is, and as healthy as it is, mostly I find joy in it because it’s obedience and worship to a God I love.