Good

I don't have all my thoughts together on this but I have been thinking about Romans 8:28, "For we know that all things work together for our good to them that are the called according to His purpose." Sometimes this is hard to take in--what I see allowed in to my life or the lives of others does not always seem good. But then last night during our prayer time at Bible Study I was praying for someone who is awaiting lung transplant. I have always struggled to know how to pray for that-- and I have prayed about people awaiting lung transplant frequently in my line of work. The difficulty is that in order for one to live another must die and how do you weigh the value of a life? And so as I prayed last night I thanked our Great God that He knows what good is. Because the truth is, we don't. Without heaven's perspective we cannot even begin to grasp what is good for us. But "those whom He foreknew [of whom He was [k]aware and [l]loved beforehand], He also destined from the beginning [foreordaining them] to be molded into the image of His Son [and share inwardly His likeness], that He might become the firstborn among many brethren." This is what is good for us--that we be made like Him. And so I pray that I would receive with open hands, and a willing and thankful heart,whatever He has for me each day, trusting the One who knows what is good for me. 

"I've got this"

This past weekend was a difficult one for me and I went into Sunday morning as I often do, but perhaps even more so. I had my guard up and my heart hidden behind whatever steel I could muster. I made minimal eye contact, and tried not to enter into any real conversations. I answered question lightly, and tightly. The facts stretched thin across my face to mask the pain that their truth threatened to surface. 

I took my place in the scattered congregation. I settled in close to my brother and tried not to think about the empty row beside me and all that it represented. I sang the hymns, and at times the shell threatened to crack--worshiping the Lord who knows my heart and loves me anyways often brings me to my knees. But I grasped at the shards of my cracking mask and re-adjusted its place and held it fast.

And then the meeting neared an end and I thought that I had made it without letting down my guard. Then I see the bread begin to pass--and as I look, I realize that it is going to end up way on the opposite end of the pew. The end of the pew where my dad usually sits. My dad, who always looks out for me and takes care of the little details that I forget--like downloading tax programs, and getting snow tires, and passing the bread. My dad and mom aren't here and I am trying so hard to hold it all together but I can't. The seats that are empty and the row that is nearly empty as well scream of the loneliness, the ache, the sorrow.

I am looking around and wondering what to do--do I get up and go get the bread from the other end of the row? Should my brother get up instead? Maybe someone will notice that I am in need of a little help here...

And then my friend in the row behind me catches my eye and motions "I got this." A weight lifts off of me--I don't have to take care of this. And then as the bread comes and I take it and pass it, I burst into tears and I weep with the relief that my Father says to me "I got this." All the walls come tumbling down and I cry with gratitude that in the midst of my loneliness, my heartache, and my need the Lord Jesus says to me,  "I got this." 

"do you want to be careful or do you want to be friends?"

Today I read "A Bargain for Frances" by Russell Hoban, to my 3 year old niece. I had probably read it before but it had never hit me like it did this time. 

It is the story of two little girls who are supposedly friends but who are really using each other, not loving each other. At the end of the story they have this conversation: 

"Well," said Thelma, "from now on I will have to be careful when I play with you." "Being careful is not as much fun as being friends," said Frances. "Do you want to be careful, or do you want to be friends?"

It struck me that is the choice throughout life-- to be careful and to build walls,hold people(or God) are arms length, or to be friends-- to be honest and real and to really know one another.

Honestly, this is not something that I write about having achieved, but I write it out of conviction that this is what we need-- 

So, what shall it be? "Do you want to be careful, or do you want to be friends?"

Burdens I can't bear

Lord, today has brought some burdens,

 that seem more than I can bear, 

My heart is aching for Your children, 

You have given me this care,

But Lord, I thank you for this weight

 and I give it back to You, 

I thank for these burdens, 

that make me lean on You. 

So Lord, I lift Your children,

and I give them back to You. 

Your arms are great enough to hold them,

And to hold me too.

Angry brow
Clenched fists
hidden behind a mask of smiles and "its all-rights"
Hiding the heart that has once again turned love to anger

You see, its easier to be angry
To put up walls
to not let You in

But really its harder in the end
And as I sit here and listen to Ann share the road to joy
paved in thanks, thanks in all things, because You are in all things
And You are always good
And what You have given me right now is very good

I want, O Lord a heart that is always giving thanks but I know that in my sinfulness, anger often takes its place. 

Lord forgive me and change me
transfigure me by Your grace
Let me never forget what You have given me

You gave Yourself upon the cross
How can I ask for more
I lust and hunger for lesser things 
wondering why they do not fill

Yet You continue Your grace to out-pour
You give me breath for one more moment
You give me tears to wipe away the pain
You give me heartache that my heart might ache for You!!

You give me nieces and nephews
You give me love of dear friends
You give me salvation--once and for all!

You give me Yourself, on Your name I call
You give me grace upon grace
and still give me more!

Your name I will praise. You I adore!
Lord You have saved me; You have loved me
You have and You will

You are the I am
the unchanging ever present God! Lord I thank You!

Where are you?

"Where are you?" the whisper comes, 
I cringe,and I hide. I wonder, "should I run?"
Like my mother Eve, I don't want to be found,
I hide in a corner, afraid of the Sun. 

"Where are you?"  the voice is heard!
He is coming closer, the living Word.
I quake inside, afraid He will see, 
the horrible mess inside of me!

"Where are you?" I hear Him say
His voice is gentle, and kind. 
I almost move from my hiding
but shrink back remembering the chains that are binding

Then suddenly the night is ablaze with light, 
My heart is exposed as His glory shines down!
I quake and I tremble, now with great fear and awe
The angels proclaim "Peace on Earth" and skies are filled with Heaven's sound

"Where are you?" I hear the words ring in my heart
The words seem spoken now right in my heart
I bend over the manager and the tears start to flow

"Here I am" He speaks to my heart
as His love breaks my walls
and the chains come apart

Immanuel, came down to dwell with us
He came as a babe, humble and small
A Gift given once, for one and for all

"When the morning stars sang..."

Since Your Advent the stars have sung--
as there in the sky that bright star was hung!

Your birth proclaimed to the wisest of sages, 
Your coming foretold from the dawn of the ages. 

The star shone its brightest when it announced You had come!
Salvation declared! peace for everyone!

For thirty-three years the stars sang Your praise
Announcing: He's here! The Ancient of Days!

Then one day the stars went out
As the Savior gave a mighty shout!

As the One who made them hung and died
the sky went silent--the heavens cried. 

One early morn, the sun shone bright!
The Lord rose triumphant and death lost the fight!

And now today a new sign is seen
There to be viewed by eyes made keen

In the southern sky a cross was hung
Hope for the hearts where Your song is sung

Until that day when again You come
the Southern Cross reminds us that the work is Done!

Dedicated to T.L who inspired these thoughts from his own experience seeing the Southern Cross on a cool clear night on the deck of a naval vessel during World War II.