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.

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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 on Once Dead, Now Alive.

Thought-provoking books challenge me to think outside the box, sometimes out of my comfort zone. After reading “Red Moon Rising: How 24-7 Prayer is Awakening a Generation” by Pete Greig, I had the chance to participate in a week long event of 24-7 prayer at the church I attend (link).
There, rooms were available for people to pray/connect with/worship
God. One room had available clay and other art materials; the intent
was to encourage creativity, using the supplies as an expression of
worship or as response to God’s presence.

I am not an “art
person”–even to step into that room WAS a step outside the box. I took
some wet clay and pressed it onto a piece of paper, the result a brown
splotch. Almost immediately I thought about Genesis 2:7 and myself being made of the dust of the earth. Then I began to write:

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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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