prefigurative living....

I've been thinking about this recently. Thought I'd share a snippet of what I read in an article. It's pretty convicting, inspiring, and really gets you thinking about the implications of what it would look like if we lived like this more.....
"When people of faith try to live out their deep principles, actually walk their talk, they tend to come up against power in ways that can wake a nation's conscience. Jesus himself (who promised that anyone who followed his teaching would always be in trouble) was one of history's more brilliant prefigurative campaigners. He didn't merely argue that true greatness comes from humbly serving others, he illustrated it by washing his disciples' dirty feet. By socializing with outcasts, visiting lepers, and always raising up the 'least of these,' Jesus didn't simply prophesy a future beloved community, he made it manifest."
(Andrew Boyd  - Yes!  magazine)

Here's the rest of the article. 

I'm starting to think maybe the best days are the ones where you can wake up in the morning...and one of the first and only certain thoughts to run through your head is the awareness that you're finished trying to do things yourself;  that if God doesn't show up, walk with you, the day is pretty much done for.

"the nearness of God is my good"

This was on the daily lectionary readings for the 1st of january. Talk about a good way to start off the year:
ps. 103


Bless the LORD, O my soul,
and all that is within me,
bless his holy name!
Bless the LORD, O my soul,
and forget not all his benefits,
who forgives all your iniquity,
who heals all your diseases,
who redeems your life from the pit,
who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,
who satisfies you with good
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.
The LORD works righteousness
and justice for all who are oppressed.
He made known his ways to Moses,
his acts to the people of Israel.
The LORD is merciful and gracious,
slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
He will not always chide,
nor will he keep his anger forever.
He does not deal with us according to our sins,
nor repay us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far does he remove our transgressions from us.
As a father shows compassion to his children,
so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him.
For he knows our frame;
he remembers that we are dust.
As for man, his days are like grass;
he flourishes like a flower of the field;
for the wind passes over it, and it is gone,
and its place knows it no more.
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him,
and his righteousness to children's children,
to those who keep his covenant
and remember to do his commandments.
The LORD has established his throne in the heavens,
and his kingdom rules over all.
Bless the LORD, O you his angels,
you mighty ones who do his word,
obeying the voice of his word!
Bless the LORD, all his hosts,
his ministers, who do his will!
Bless the LORD, all his works,
in all places of his dominion.
Bless the LORD, O my soul!
(Psalm 103 ESV)

Josh Garrels - Zion & Babylon

....and dear black friday -take that- jesus is bigger than all our greed.

dear black friday

Dear black friday,

I wish I could point the finger at you and say with a clean conscience that I have no part in you. I don't shop on you, I don't take advantage of all the sparkly things you offer.... But the truth is, you reflect our hearts. Mine not withstanding. As a human race we are greedy, selfish hoarders who look after our own good before others, and it just manages to manifest itself in a lot of different ways. We don't always give all our allegiance to this demon - but none of us has been entirely free of it for our whole life. And none of us is innocent. Black friday, I want to play a song for you. maybe we'll look back at Jesus and remember that there's something a lot more important than "getting our own"- in whatever manner we do that.

Why am I awake at 12:14 am writing a blog after a long day/late night of work?.....

I like sleep. In fact, I like it when it happens around 10:30pm. But I've blazed through the day so quickly that I've hardly given anything a thought. Maybe it makes more sense to say I haven't really paused. I guess I'm pressing the pause button now.

Be still. Be thankful. Acknowledge the one who got me through the day, who upholds me with his love.

I think I'm just going to sit in the quiet for a little while, and ponder the largeness of that thought. Of what it really means to be grateful. Of what it really means to acknowledge the grace of God. Of who Jesus is, and what it means to know him. Of the good news that is good.

After all the busy-ness, all the noise, at the end of the day when I've made it through another...

I just need to stop in the stillness and remember.

He really is amazing.

"Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth"

Revolution

Everyone is groaning and aching for a new world, a right world. Revolution after revolution. The world is in an upheaval from it all. And everyone dreams of a someday right world when there is no more suffering, pain, hurt, death. Except it’s just like when Jesus came the first time- all were looking expectantly for a messiah, but they wanted him to overthrow the system their way. Instead, he came as a humble leader who served everyone, and gave up his life for our sins. Not exactly what the Jews wanted or were expecting. And this time? This utopia everyone is so fond of seeking? ….It still isn’t Jesus.

We want our own. We are upset and angry because we aren’t the one percent (even though we are the 20% - oh the irony. I know I'm generalizing and that not everyone is in it for that, but the majority of words I've heard and signs I've seen...)…. And we somehow deserve our own. I have a feeling that Jesus might flip the whole scenario on it’s head and tell us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, to take no part in injustice, but also to trust to his ultimate justice. He might just tell us to forget about our predicaments for a moment and take consideration of others’ predicaments. He might tell us to receive grace and to give it abundantly.

He might even tell us to be thankful.

He might tell us to topple the system by putting the greedy, and the rich who are hoarding to shame by our abundant giving, and by our humility- not by our demands for more.

p.s. occupy wall street, greed has nothing to do with the amount of money you have. It is a condition of the heart and applies to more than just money or material wealth. You can just as easily be greedy and poor as you can be greedy and rich.

You want to ‘occupy wall street’? You want revolution?

Lay down your own will and your own life and follow Jesus and his way. Love your neighbors. Love your enemies. Lay down your so-called rights for other’s rights. Glorify him, not yourself. Be thankful. Always. Mourn with those who mourn. Rejoice in the redemption that you’ve been given that can’t be taken away by any of this stuff. Take Joy in who Jesus is and his love and grace toward us. Seek his face. Be free to trust in him, not yourself, not humanity.

America, I don’t know if you’re ready for real revolution. It might be hard. (It might also be really good) It might not be what you want after all……

Jesus shines brightly

small disclaimer: I wrote this about a month ago, when things were different, did not intend on sharing it, or really doing anything with it. I just wanted to write. It's got lots of bad grammar, incorrect sentence structure, and I'm not fixing any of it. But even though the situation has changed a lot since then, I really think that some of the content is worth sharing.... about Jesus and all that. so here it is:

Here goes, day 2 of sort of stream of conciousness. I don’t really know if I type fast enough to do “stream of conciousness, nor if it would be different for me than the normal type of writing for me, since I rarely edit, and I rarely stay on topic without jumping around. Oh well. Once again. Here goes. My house. It’s the one thing that’s been irking me lately. I don’t want to be there, no secret. I wonder if I could’ve contributed more. I wonder what will happen to me, I wonder where I’m going next. I know in my head that God will provide, that there really is no cause to be anxious or worry. But I am worried about staying and worried about going. I long for a real home like I haven’t longed for in a very long time. Peace, quiet, music, no craziness, lightness, people smiling and having a good time. I’m tired of all this. Stress, unrest, dog’s fighting, people fighting, greed, selfishness, denial, falling, sin. I don’t want to be around it anymore God, I want rescued. I’m not in a desperate state or anything, I just want to have some semblance of peace from you. I want to see redemption. I taught A. to spell his name today, pointed to the magnetic letters one by one in the kitchen on the fridge. He’s pretty awesome. He can be a brat like any other kid too, but he really is sweet. And right there as I was leaving the house, my heart broke. I saw things. A beautiful garden, a house full of people who definitely weren’t perfect and were flawed but who nonetheless loved Jesus, and his light – the light of knowing him was showing in their eyes. And then I came back down from the cloud. I said bye to A., he asked where I was going. I told him out to a coffee shop and he promptly replied “bye eein” in his cute ‘r’-less way. And my heart broke. It broke when I found out M. came home last night drunk as hell. It broke when I thought of J.. It broke when I thought what an amazing kid A. is. It broke, It broke. It broke. Why is all this crap happening? I don’t want to see it happen. I don’t. I took a picture of M. on the porch at night playing his guitar months ago, when I was obsessed with redemption. I hope I’m still obsessed. But sometimes redemption looks ugly or bleak. Sometimes we don’t see it. Sometimes we blow up the beauty in front of us that God is putting together because the ache or the fear is too much for us to stand, and he is too much for us to comprehend. He transforms our messes, his goodness supersedes our pushing away and our destruction. We can ultimately turn our face from him, but he will still bring redemption, but only those who have eyes will see it, only those who have ears will hear it, and only those with open hands will receive it. I don’t understand myself and I don’t understand others when we openly shun the only thing that will cleanse us, and reconcile us and make us able to stand in God’s presence. I don’t understand this disdain for blood. I do wish I had done more. I’m not convinced that it would have changed anything, but I know that God can change things. I wish I had pointed to Jesus more, and less to myself or nothing. I wish I’d had courage to do things despite the reaction I knew – or was convinced they-my actions- would produce. I think it’s ok that I want to cry right now. I don’t feel better than anyone, and I don’t feel ultimately responsible for anyone’s salvation. But I do feel the brokenness. I do feel that. I do feel the ache. And it cuts. I don’t care how happy people in asheville want to feel. It’s a sad desperate day unless Jesus is in it. You can stuff all the people and activities and warm fuzzy’s in there you want. But I’m not convinced. I’m a consumer. I’m a greedy person, I will continually manipulate goodness for my own benefit. Hell, I don’t even know how to really, truly appreciate goodness unless it’s through him to begin with. And that is humanity. We chose, and we’ve been living in the ramifications of that choice ever since, and the only way back is through knowing jesus. India. Starving kids, the world in rubble, half –destroyed pieces, and yet we deny it daily, and we enter into the day thinking everything is sunshine and daisy’s without ever being confronted with the deep gaping wound in our flesh and in the world around us. Transcendence isn’t the answer. Blind ignorance isn’t either. It takes courage to look the world in the face and myself, marred, in the mirror. I don’t have it. I don’t. Some days I don’t even have the courage to acknowledge it. Can we just skip that part, Jesus? I really just want to have a happy day today. Can we just pretend for one day that the world around me is really, just ok, as is? Can we paint a pretty picture, like thomas kincaid? But no. He won’t have any of that. On the days I choose this, I deny him. On the days I choose him,there is no denying of the brokenness, despite my lack of courage. But the days I choose to acknowledge him and the brokenness are the best ones. On those days, I know I need him. It may be a struggle for joy, but at least it’s authentic- in the truest sense. And at least my salvation isn’t in myself. There is no pretense. We’re in a war, and our hearts are being torn to bits by the shrapnel. But hope. Hope holds us up. Or as merton says ‘hope deprives us of everything that is not God, in order that all things may serve their true purpose as means to bring us to God.’ Hope will deprive us, but it will be good deprivation. And it will be hard deprivation because we will struggle, and we will want. Always wanting. Maybe it’s never wanting the right things or in the right manner that’s our trouble. Our hope in God though, that will never disappoint. And here’s the crux: all this brokenness is necessary to, and a direct result of, a people who refuse to believe that we are constantly dependant on, and indebted to someone greater than ourselves. That indeed we cannot fix ourselves. We can’t. And that ultimately, ‘fixing’ is actually not a state of simply good morality, fixing is actually a state of our soul- and of our relation to God. You could be the most ‘moral’ person on earth by our standpoint and be the furthest away from being ‘fixed’. Because the marred state of our insides isn’t just the result of external things, it’s the result of a concious breaking of relationship- the relationship being the thing that actually makes people moral….or shall we say righteous. You are righteous- you become righteous through your relationship with Jesus- with God. You literally become new. Not a robot who performs x and y to get to z. The love doesn’t come from being loved by others- not by that form of reciprocation, nor by forced actions, strength of willpower, it comes from knowing Jesus, and being changed by knowing him. This is the good news in the midst of the dark. He is the truth walking around with the flashlight, taking our hands and walking with us so that our feet know where to go. We just take his hand. That’s all. And we just keep hold of it. And we ask him to hold tightly to ours even when we are unsure.

And when things break his heart, they break ours. When he is grieved, we are. When he is pained, we are. When he rejoices over his relentless love and redemption for us, so do we. When he sees the blood of Jesus and says we are clean, so do we. When he says take hope and joy in the midst of all this, in him, and spread it- not in ignorance of the bombs going off around us, but in defiance of it- We do. When he says he is more powerful, more loving, more of everything good than any of the worse we can imagine, we believe him. And when we take Jesus’ hand with us in dark places, we take his flashlight too, and he shines brightly in the dark. He does. He shines brightly in the dark.

this song has been playing on repeat for two hours:
'My hope is built on nothing less than jesus blood and righteouness'

'on Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand'

It hasn't gotten boring yet.

I walked into work today with 15 minutes to spare and quickly sat down to chug some water and make an attempt to cool off in the air conditioning. I flipped my bible open.....what to read? I only have fifteen minutes. hmmm... there's the beginning of Colossians. Pretty good. I skim through to the beginning of chapter 3. And lots of things grab my attention, but one sentence stops me dead in my tracks (well, actually a couple):
Were you not raised to life with Christ? Then aspire to the realm above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God, and let your thoughts dwell on that higher realm, not on this earthly life. I repeat, you died; and now your life lies hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is our life, is manifested, then you too will be manifested with him in glory.

and a little further:
Whatever you are doing, whether you speak or act, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.


Lately I've been feeling this aching emptiness off and on. And I think I know why. It's our disease.
We tell each other we have such-and-such to accomplish in our lives. Whether it be day-to-day, week-to-week, year-to-year..... I'm surrounded by people who measure the value of their lives based on what they accomplish- and I do it too. And if we didn't accomplish enough this week, we end up in a frantic rush to accomplish, or the dull void of not even knowing what we're working for anymore, because the years go by much faster than expected. Please don't take this as me admonishing anyone toward laziness. In fact, quite the opposite. Our time is a gift and therefore to be cherished... I said cherished, not hoarded, right?

But here's the thing, if we do anything 'great' or 'small' .....we do it through Christ, right? so who's got their ruler out? What are we measuring for? We've got nothing to claim. Everything has been sanctified whether mundane, simple, hard, big or small. It's only for us to realize the sanctity of everything we're doing- of who we're being through Christ. That part in John where Jesus is telling the disciples to abide in him? Guess what folks, when we abide in him we do all things in the name of Jesus whether word or deed, we don't do something contrary to him- because then it wouldn't be done in his name. That's what it looks like. Paul is basically admonishing them to keep their minds, hearts, actions -all that they are- on/in Christ, because that's the only way you can do all things unto him and in his name.

We need to be aware of the transient nature of earth- and of all this. It doesn't mean removal from the situations we are in, or the injustice around us.... It doesn't mean that we stop chasing righteousness and seeking the kingdom of God right now- it means a hope that is bigger than transient. It means something more than just stopping all the suffering or evils of this world. It means looking into Jesus' eyes, seeing his hands -the wounds, remembering his blood given to make us clean and knowing that it is He who pours his glory and presence into something (or someone), not us. It is knowing that we can trust Him to use anything done to him for his glory, not constantly measuring what you are doing to see if it's glorifying him.
It's just looking at him.
It's just abiding in Him.
It really is.

It's really that simple.
You, I, they, don't have to do anything great.


He already did. And still is doing.

I don't get it.

I don't claim to be an extremely wise person, so maybe this could easily elude me, but I don't don't get "the Church"
I don't get what it's come to be about, why it is an institution, or why we seem to botch it up so badly. I don't get why it's so complicated. I don't understand why we need to be performing all these things. "performing" being the key word.

How can following a person look like this? And why do we have a need to make ourselves feel justified and important by doing all this?

Wednesday I came to the conclusion that my heart is utterly wretched-my motives, my actions, my thoughts- all of it- there is no redeeming quality. I can't even bring myself to follow, or look to Jesus like I want to.
But God asked me if I just had enough faith, just enough to believe that he is everything(really more of a concession), and that he can do everything- and that when he said he would give the spirit to those who asked, he wasn't joking.
He told me to look at his face and believe him- and to be completely overwhelmed by his mercy and grace.....
to cast myself aside, to die,
to stop striving.

And to trust that his grace is enough to do what he promises, his grace is enough to change us all, His redemption is enough to glorify himself and to fill us with him so that we aren't wretched.
We aren't wretched because of him, and only because of him. And he who promised is faithful- one day he will redeem all this, and one day we will be made able to see him face-to-face, regardless of what it takes or what it already has cost him.


The whole church thing- it's supposed to be a reflection of him, but it seems like we're all so busy trying to make sure we do that very thing- that we cast Jesus aside in the process, because, sorry Jesus, but we don't have time for you here, we're trying to reflect God, and that's really hard work, don't you think?

It's like this: maybe if I could take the time to shut-up, he might actually be able to speak through me. If I would take the time to know him, I might just start acting like him without even being all that aware of it.

peace isn't always found in the silence

I lay in the still early morning quiet, listening for the few birds that stuck around for the winter, and watching through the haze of my pile of blankets for the first frosty bits of light to soak through my windows. The morning is as seamless as the lake in my memories, buried deep in the mountains without a single ripple to disturb the surface.

And then footsteps.
Then a door slams.
Next a baby screams.
A few minutes later another door is slamming.

Soon there are multiple sets of feet stomping around on the floor with no awareness of what the word 'quiet' might mean. Dishes are clanking; pots and pans making an early morning racket-song as the voices begin in the un-silence and build in energy the longer they carry on.

Pretty soon there's music coming from the living room, seeping into my bedroom through the paper-thin walls, and I am awake whether or not I want to be or am ready to be. On a good day I grab my smile and my mandolin and prance into the living room to join the festivities. On a better day I am the one awake before everyone else, and I therefore assume responsibility for the musical joys of the morning, and wait for others to join in.

So I lay there, under the pile of blankets, thinking back to the previous night. We gather in the living room, wonderful smells, a room just full enough of people, smiles and adopted family. I can see the invisible glow emitting from the room, it's crawling through the cracks in the wall, leaking outside into the darkness. We share food and laughter and life. These are pieces of things I've wanted for so long, these are answers to prayer, and parts of Jesus walking around with skin on. I blink multiple times to make sure this is really happening, like the times you pinch yourself to make certain you aren't dreaming.

And then I make a sleeping attempt around eleven (pm). That's a reasonable time, isn't it? I lay in bed with headphones on, music or an audio-book as my attempt at sleep; my attempt at sanity and at quiet. stillness. silence.
It's now one a.m. and I am laying, frustrated, in my bed as I listen to sound-clones of what will be in the morning.
Feet walking, stomping.
The occasional door slamming.
Bang.
stomp. stomp. slam. loud laughter. stomp.
talking, more talking, with insertions of laughter, sometimes far too loud, it seems, at one in the morning. And I lay there trying to decide exactly how much I can suck it up, and how selfish it would be to go tell people they are being too loud.
I get out of bed and do the latter.


I was thinking about all this on the bus ride to work this morning. I was in a bit of a hurry when trying to leave, nothing too rushed, but I still really dislike being rushed. It makes me feel disgruntled. It makes me feel grumpy. It makes me feel like everyone is getting in the way, and that no one realizes what it means to have to go to work on time.
No, I don't have time to talk to you, Hope.
No, I actually need to use the bathroom right now.
etc.
I will spare anyone reading this the rest of the description and my messed-up line of reasoning and cut straight to the bone of the issue.



Community, it sounds all fluffy and nice.
And parts of it are.
Seeing Jesus show up, praying and worshiping together, sharing food and stories and music, it's all pretty amazing. It's kind of astonishing that this sort of thing can happen. It really is. Like I said, sometimes I have to blink.

And then there's the other side. The side I'm pretty sure Jesus wants to happen, the side I'm pretty sure frustrates the hell out of me sometimes (yes, people, contrary to popular belief, I get frustrated, angry even. And selfishly so).
We go through at least a roll of toilet paper a day, and even more when anyone has a cold.
Milk and butter are a commodity, especially when it's organic.
Sleep is also, more so for me.
Dishes are a constant chore for everyone. I'm not sure how this works when it seems like the dishes are disproportionate to the amount of people living here...? you tell me.
There are kids screaming. loudly. 'nough said.

And I realized while sitting on the bus that maybe Jesus gave us community and gave us each other so that we would learn what it really meant to look to others good before our own.
And that is not something I really want to hear when I understand what it means. Yeah, I like the pretty words, like all those beautiful fairy tales coming to life out of poetry books..... until I actually know what the words mean.

But it's then that Jesus steps in and puts on flesh. It's then that he tells me that he carried a cross and my sin on his back, it's then that he tells me we are to follow in his footsteps.

Community is about not always having the time to do the things you want, or the silence you need to remain sane, or the space to keep your own privacy. Because it reminds you that Jesus gave all of his life for us, and he called us to put others' good before our own.
And it also reminds you that there's no way on earth any of this is going to happen unless you continually look at him.
I can pretty much guarantee that without him you are going to lose your sanity as well as your temper.

But the amazing and exhausting thing is being given this gift, this chance to see Jesus and be constantly reminded of how much we all need him.

Have you ever sat next to Jesus?

I work this part-time job out in the mall. It consists of wearing all black... even black socks, of selling photos, and of stifling my creativity. The mall also really weirds me out. (not the store, just the mall) Something about being around crowds of rabid holiday shoppers out for the latest deal, dragging their kids around as though they are on leashes, and subjecting anyone they encounter to their selfish ideal of being in such a big hurry, something about all that just doesn't rub me the right way.
Anyway, I'm showing some folks pictures of their kids so they can choose what they want to buy.
They're pretty nice, actually, most everyone I had to 'sell' to yesterday was pretty nice. So here I am, Ms. "sales person" all in black.... and corporate says we need to hit such-and-such a number. And a few co-workers are all for the upselling, they tell me what to compliment, what sly lines to insert, etc.... No different from most other places wanting selling done. And I must say, their deals really aren't too bad. Here was my reasoning: I'm not pushy and I refuse to be, I'm not fake and I'm not going to give fake compliments, if they get one, it'll be real. And the thoughts continued in this progression when I first started working there. Thing is, they haven't changed. But yesterday something different happened.

In the middle of my shift, in the middle of talking to someone, I was all the sudden very aware that Jesus was sitting next to me. He was concerned with how I was treating every single person. He also could care less what corporate said, or my co-workers if it somehow infringed with how he expected me to treat the people or the situation. ....And all the sudden it wasn't about "I'm not any of these things, so I refuse to act this way", even though I may have been very right in those justifications. It was "Jesus is sitting next to me (!!), and what the hell do any other 'opinions' or 'directions' matter compared to my obedience to him???"

These Resurrection Dreams

I let loose my grip, tossed off these hinder-some shoes,
And went down to sit by the riverside,
open hands to the heavens;
Bare feet digging into the earth, finding my roots.

My eyes caught the wonder, I lay my hand
over my mouth-lost in silence, I repent.
I repent while the giant mythical trees tell me
their story, stretch their limbs to the sky-
the silent prayer they are crying out.

I turned to the end of the book,
got lost in the story
that grew out in front of me.

I walk through the garden, wandering,
must we always lose these child's eyes as we grey?
Must we always cage ourselves in -
with gold and silver and comfort?
Must we become allies with erasers that clear
the danger, adventure and wonder?

Must we rationalize
the ants as they toil, the birds
as they take the air upon their wings,
their spring-song sung back, forth,
echoing in layers and harmonies,
the river, playing it's way somewhere new
with whispers to the shore,
diamonds hidden til the sun
smiles it's blazing gaze on it,
in the warmth of friends who know?

Must we rationalize?

Must we trivialize the words when spoken
out of the void of nothingness
"It is good"

Put on your eyes, oh world

Need we distract, when we can see
through the veil- life
and him?
it is the ache and the goodness that no words hold captive.

Must we really fear life and death,
all in one?
Or,
can we not learn to fear neither
And come awake, live,
in the bits and pieces scattered about
small shadows living on
of a someday whole world,

why shudder we from fear,
when death only stands a door?





re-found this poem I wrote last spring.

Some days it feels like the whole world is before me, this giant chalk board, scribbles of all colors covering every empty space. And I look at it with a jumbled, distracted eye, and a head that is trying to put together some form of coherence. And maybe I stand there for a few moments trying to decipher it, maybe a few hours...... until something inside me realizes none of this is it. And I throw eraser after eraser at the chalk board until the entire thing is left blank. And then one hand begins writing a story:

Crown Him with many crowns, the Lamb upon His throne.
Hark! How the heavenly anthem drowns all music but its own.
Awake, my soul, and sing of Him who died for thee,
And hail Him as thy matchless King through all eternity.

Crown Him the virgin’s Son, the God incarnate born,
Whose arm those crimson trophies won which now His brow adorn;
Fruit of the mystic rose, as of that rose the stem;
The root whence mercy ever flows, the Babe of Bethlehem.

Crown Him the Son of God, before the worlds began,
And ye who tread where He hath trod, crown Him the Son of Man;
Who every grief hath known that wrings the human breast,
And takes and bears them for His own, that all in Him may rest.

Crown Him the Lord of life, who triumphed over the grave,
And rose victorious in the strife for those He came to save.
His glories now we sing, Who died, and rose on high,
Who died eternal life to bring, and lives that death may die.

Crown Him the Lord of peace, Whose power a scepter sways
From pole to pole, that wars may cease, and all be prayer and praise.
His reign shall know no end, and round His piercèd feet
Fair flowers of paradise extend their fragrance ever sweet.

Crown Him the Lord of love, behold His hands and side,
Those wounds, yet visible above, in beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky can fully bear that sight,
But downward bends his burning eye at mysteries so bright.

Crown Him the Lord of Heaven, enthroned in worlds above,
Crown Him the King to Whom is given the wondrous name of Love.
Crown Him with many crowns, as thrones before Him fall;
Crown Him, ye kings, with many crowns, for He is King of all.

Crown Him the Lord of lords, who over all doth reign,
Who once on earth, the incarnate Word, for ransomed sinners slain,
Now lives in realms of light, where saints with angels sing
Their songs before Him day and night, their God, Redeemer, King.

Crown Him the Lord of years, the Potentate of time,
Creator of the rolling spheres, ineffably sublime.
All hail, Redeemer, hail! For Thou has died for me;
Thy praise and glory shall not fail throughout eternity."

It's advent and I am sitting here in front of this chalk-board, this heart, waiting for another hand to write one story. Waiting for a hand to wipe away all the indecipherable mess, and to place himself in the emptiness. The whole earth is waiting, and groaning to know him.

It seems it takes a lifetime to keep our eyes from roaming to and fro.... to keep them, and our hearts steadied on one thing alone.
I say this, late tonight, sleep sneaking nearby, creeping round my cozy pile of blankets, drawing my eyelids down further with each added moment....I say it before sleep hits. Before memory steals it away.

I am not humble.
I'm not good.

Those things aren't what my disposition leans toward.

But I know someone who is good and is humble. And I have put my hope in him, that he will erase all the lies of pride, and cover me, continually.... "like a broken record" with his blood. And he will keep reminding me, keep telling me, keep humbling me-not of my own accord,but so that I will look to him, and look only to him.

It was from him I have received everything. It is from him I've been given grace, love, hope, redemption.
It's all his fault if anything wise, or true, or right exits my mouth.

He is the cause and perpetrator of our joy- and of our life.
To God only be the glory through Jesus.

I want to go back to India.

Some days I feel so far removed from this dream, that ends up being all it is, a dream….wavering through the fog and mist, disappearing and reappearing at sporadic moments. It’s as though I’m playing some massive game of Hide-and-seek. Not that we should build idols and enshrine them, not that we should turn our dreams into our gods. Rather, we should seek to glorify God in all we do, and if he removes something, we remain content. If he allows something to come to pass, we remain content. We are single-minded and single-focused.


I have spent the last hours of the dying night thinking about India, why did I go? what did I learn? who did I become family with? How did it change my eyes? How did I learn love from others? Who did I give love to? …..and what did I promise on that rooftop almost three years ago?

…..That promise, those words, they are still hanging on the air. They might be avoided by fear, they may have even changed perspective (in a good way). And no, I am not going to go be some hero. I am not going to do ‘mighty works’ or ‘big things’ even. I sometimes wonder if the heads of the prophets got muddled with the enormity of things sometimes, this huge expectation they felt inside themselves of what God was doing, and what he was saying? Did they ever feel crazy? ….or did they ever feel frightened by exactly how big things were? Or had they learned what I am still trying to digest?

None of what I do is big. He uses us. We are his. We are his dependents-and everything “big” is done through Him; through his power, through his love, through his life, death, and resurrection. We claim nothing, not even the breath we breathe. We are however, responsible for how we use what he has so graciously given us. And we are responsible for following him, even though he is the enabler.

The fear used to hunt me down, it pursued me as quickly as the initial excitement. It would fill me with the lies that heaped all of this supposed greatness onto my own shoulders, and said it was an impossibility too large for me to hold. And that part of the lie was true- all of this, all of anything worth doing is far too great a burden and a weight for someone as small as I.
But the falsehood was just assumed from the beginning: That the weight of accomplishing relies on me, that the weight of situations rests on my shoulders.

The fear makes the wrong assumption.

I am not the savior of the world. I am not the supplier of my next breath. I do not create oxygen or make the sun rise every morning or the stars explode every night. I don’t whisper up to the birds to tell them which songs to sing for which season. I didn’t paint the colors on all of nature. And I didn’t speak things into existence out of the vast emptiness that lay before me.

I am not the doer. I live only when I live in the blood of Christ.

The weak, the broken, the absurd- He uses us all so that there is no doubt-so that it is beyond reckoning that this power comes from him and him alone. Simply because it is an impossibility. It goes against our reasoning and comprehension. But that is the language he speaks with, and that is how we are sure that it is his power, not our own moving within us.

I am infinitely weak and small and broken.

And my God, the God of all things, He holds me in his hand. He looks on Jesus’ blood that covers me, and I am His.

So what is impossible?
Not anything that God wills.

Jesus.


He really is the answer to all the questions.