{Originally published on Kingdom Grace}

In reading and conversations about the gospel, church, and culture, I have run across many terms that were unfamiliar to me. I produced these posters in an attempt to portray simply some of the terms that I have encountered while blogging about religion. They are a reflection of my perception and understanding of these terms.

The post is titled “A More Generous View” because the posters are intended to portray the generous grace of God rather than a strict and rigid view of religion. I hope that you will find them to be an encouragement to your faith journey.

{Originally published on “Et tu?“}

For whatever reason, I keep stumbling across blogs by mothers who are battling cancer lately.

One of the things that’s most striking about every one of them is how much looking through their posts highlights how fragile life is, and how little control we really have over our destinies. The post at the bottom of the page, from last Wednesday, might be titled something like “Feeling great!” and recount high hopes and improving health. And then the latest post, from today, might be titled “Bad news” and tell of dire test results and the choking realization that the author will probably not live to see her children grow up.

Just now I was doing my usual blog reading during the
kids’ naptime, and I came across yet another blogger who just received
a grave cancer diagnosis. She’s a mother, she’s not even 30 yet, and
there’s a good chance that she doesn’t have a lot more time.

Oddly, I was able to keep a stiff upper lip through most of the post, until she got to the part about all the plans she had: how she had her life neatly in place, her plans for the next few years all settled, and this diagnosis completely derailed everything. Nothing seems within her control any longer, and that’s one of the things she’s struggling with the most.

Originally Posted at One Thing.

The
injury is old, but it is not completely healed. Much of the pain of it
has passed. I can hardly remember the reason it is there. Yet…when I
look at it, I am tempted. Tempted to pick at it. Tempted to touch it,
just a little. Maybe it’s ready to come off; maybe I can rush the
healing process. I shouldn’t. I know I should let it go.

(click title for more)

Originally posted on Christa Allan’s blog. “The holy goes on, no matter how many balls you fling at it.”   Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott I suppose living to the age of a highway speed limit has caused me to redefine holy. In my youth, now defined as any age a neighborhood speed limit ago, I’d define holy in strictly religious terms…you know, the Baltimore Catcheism holies. Today, I’d define it in the seemingly more commonplace…sun risings and settings, moon shadings and lightings,  gentle smiles and [...]

Originally posted on Ponderings.

I attended a funeral for the father of new friend of mine recently. In
our understanding he died too soon. He was only in his early 60′s.
Although I never had the opportunity to meet this man, his funeral
impacted my life. The tributes and memories shared by family and
friends were beautiful. We viewed a slide presentation set to music,
tracing the journey of his life. The one thing that really spoke to my
heart was that this man had truly lived.

He
was an adventurer. Fear didn’t hold him captive. He lived out loud. He
wasn’t afraid to follow the dreams God had placed in his heart, and yet
he didn’t take foolish risks. He enjoyed life to the full. In many ways
he has gone from living to living.

My life in comparison would
be such a shadow. Many of us would be likened to “dead men walking” in
contrast. Oh, maybe outwardly we’re going through the motions. Jumping
through all the right hoops. We know how to play the “Game of Life”.
For generations it’s been the same. We’ve read the rules. We know the
expectations. Years go by, but our passion is getting buried deeper and
deeper. We are allowing ourselves and others to dig our own
grave…only we’re still breathing. We’re being buried alive.

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Originally published in They Hang Like Paper Lanterns.

The drops weave together daily,
their fibrous web,
and bind me in this sticky love.
I trip upon my own heart strings.

They shoot me full of adrenaline, then entangle me, gag me, rob me
Leaving me to finish off what’s left of myself.
Heart racing, eyes bulging; wet, salty and gasping.
Wishing, perhaps, they’d completed their aim this time.
Please stop toying with me and end it.
(Then thinking that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.)

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Originally posted in L’Chaim.

The sunlight sparkles on the water, speckles the path, and dances with the trees. I sit on a log bench and meditate on the memory verse for my Bible study:

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation, for all things in heaven and on earth were created by him – all things,
whether visible or invisible, whether thrones or dominions, whether principalities or powers – all things were created through him and for him. He himself is before all things and all things are held together in him.

All of this has been created by him, through him, and for him.

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Originally posted on PENSIEVE.

You would think becoming intimately acquainted with Jesus–getting to know Him, learning to love Him–is as simple as reading the Bible’s four gospels.

Until you read them back to back, and on the surface, see four portraits of the same man. Four very different portraits of the same man.

Because I never before read all four gospels in succession, a while back it occurred to me that immersing myself in these “biographies” would give me a clearer picture of Jesus. Rather than read them in the order they appear in Scripture (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John), I read them John, Mark, Luke, Matthew; random, yes, but going from John to Mark paints a p.r.e.t.t.y. interesting picture.

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