The Limits of Grace

 Remembrance, come live in these bodies again and cast light upon beauty. Find out our edges. Admit us to your company. Dwell with us.

Today is Good Friday. It is also Easter Sunday. Today is his Advent. This is our every day. It is his day. Every day we crucify our lord, and every day he is raised up again. Every day he is born into this world through the anguish and persistence of a vulnerable, tender, trusting, young woman, into the land of dust and grime, and refuse, and blood, and glory and light. Today he is new from the dead never to die, yet continually he endures wrongs and evils in his land.

About this time, warm rays broke through the mid-morning haze. He felt repeated, furious strokes, lashes separating bone and sinew. His lamb’s blood washed the ground and set it apart for its most holy use. 

About this time Mary, seeing alive one who had been dead, exclaimed in the garden, “Teacher!” 

About this time the maiden Mary, heavy with child, upon a donkey, felt the struggle of the beast against the broken road, and searched the horizon for the place of her deliverance. 

About this time I sit and sip coffee, brewed just so from a French press. I look out the dining room window toward flaming yellow Forsythia. It lines the back edge of our small yard, generous in terms of urban lots here in central Virginia. We have about all we please. We’re offered pleasure without restrictive, suppressive limits, a lie really, make-believe, but our sights are set low enough. A more subtle deception pretends such a world is desirable. We’re offered the path of never feeling hard things, of never knowing what’s truly valuable and precious, but beauty is marked by boundaries. Without a seal, broken souls hold no water. We buy to pretend we’re okay, so we fail to see the greatness of the hand that holds us here. 

Finding limits pressed in upon us, we find liberty. We’re shackled together with feelings we’ve hoped to escape, but need to embrace, need if we ever hope to see. Thank God the marketing can’t produce on its promises. We’re confronted with ourselves, and, finally reaching the longed-for spring, with you. We have to rest, to accept, receive. We get to. We had bought another narrative because we didn’t trust the plan which includes our pain. We are held in your hands. We are safe with your suffering. This is beauty and rest. 

Yes, we are timid to approach what we have pierced. We are fearful to apprehend truth. We are slow to trust your forgiveness. Trust your forgiveness - this bedrock limits us, from plummeting ages upon ages into a great abyss. Here we stand. Hindered, restricted from rust and thievery. Here we rest and breathe, and endure, and rejoice. Here’s a rock we’ve cast aside, which yet holds us continually, and ever builds upon us. This is wonder and Grace. He is with us!

Where life begins

I went to the cross this morning. Well, I started in Bethlehem, where the Spirit of God took up residence in a child, as a child, Jesus. I imagined the imperfect parents who "raised" him, probably confounded repeatedly at his peace and his perfect rejoicing in what was excellent, and now I think,  also his perfect grieving over broken things.
This narrative matured at the cross. He took into himself all our broken things and grieved them with the emptying of his life. To communicate his father's excellency in forgiving offenses, this was fitting, and totally worth it. The whole earth would be filled with his glory. This was his confidence while he suffocated, and bled there, and died.

I've listened recently to an account of the Pacific battles of WWII, which included some grisly descriptions of the changes that occur in a man's flesh post mortem. This morning I paused over the corpse being handled by men as it was taken from the cross and laid in a tomb, supposedly to decay. He told us this would happen. He was dead. All my wrongs were forgiven, but my love was in the grave. This is my invitation to grieve the loss of what is excellent.

This is where life begins. A hunger to know him. This is why it's good news that he was raised from the dead. We can know, and love, and wonder at him, and enjoy him forever! Our lives' purpose is restored: he is known as glorious, and his praises will fill all things.

Degrees

If you're suffering from depression, it's not because you're thinking of things as worse than they are, but because they are far worse than you imagine.

When at last you recognize your problems as unyieldingly insurmountable, then you may experience hope. When you come to understand the immeasurable degree to which you are destined for failure, you may reach a happy rest.

Jesus was raised from the dead. Imagine struggling with how to overcome death. What's your game plan? How badly will you feel like a screw up if you don't come back to life after 3 days? None right? That's crazy. Who comes back from the dead? Who will look down on you for staying dead? Nobody.

Well, stop feeling sorry for yourself: you're gonna be dead, and no one will think less of you for it. They might think of you less after a while though I guess. ;) Here's some good news: you're not dead yet! If being dead is clear accounts, then being alive is a bonus! I mean, one day your reputation will be that of a dead person. Who is so and so? Oh, they died.

You should be having a good triumphant laugh to yourself right now because you're better than dead. Is the pressure off? Are you free to live now, having the reality of your death? Try learning something new, and don't be afraid of messing up, at worst you'll be killed!

It gets better though. A cynic might accept his death and use that as a launching pad for productivity in life to some degree, but he'll never be at peace. He'll be a cynic. This is what's up: You don't have to stay dead, just ask Jesus.

On heroin and reputation

Yes addiction is "glorified selfishness", and that is a heart disease which we all share and feed in many ways, some of which are more socially acceptable than others.
Show me one person, one, who doesn't always pursue what they believe will bring them the most happiness. Some wise person said that pleasure is what each of us seek, even the man who hangs himself. In this we can't control our choices: we always choose what promises to most fulfill. Our sickness, our disease, for all of us, is that we continue seeking where there is no satisfaction.

The one who seeks to rest satisfied by despising another's shameless pursuit of their fulfillment, is likely further from finding their own.

I'm saying addiction is a disease, and that maybe it's less of a disease than some have who settle for less gratifying social approval. In both cases what is needed is a cure, a superior pleasure to expel the inferior. The heroin addict and the one who seeks the praise of their peers each only do so because they know of no greater relief, or reprieve from their own emptiness. I'm talking this way from personal experience on both counts. They do each have a choice. One option is that they can harden and shrink their capacity for joy, that is they may give up on the possibility that there really is something good and right that will bring fulfillment, and glut themselves on poison that pleases them less and less as it kills them. Or they may choose to keep seeking, to believe that there really is something better, something altogether unlike the thief they've bedded down with for so many nights, that possibly there is somewhere waiting for them figuratively a pure faithful spouse beyond comparison to these dirty, spiteful mistresses.

He is there. Our disease is only that we can't appreciate how good he is. Come to me all you worn out and heavily burdened, I'll give you rest for your souls, he says. The fulfillment we're seeking because we're empty, is simply the knowledge that he is full, that God is good, and satisfied, happy, and fulfilled without any need of you to put down the crack pipe or impress your friends. This is what he says through Jesus. And through this word of Christ we can be reconciled to know him as he is and let that be our rest. Keep seeking, Keep knocking, Keep asking, and you'll be the one who gets him. Your responsibility is to cry out for the boldness to believe.

Special thanks to Erica! Also Chris and Michella. Be addicts y'all, just go for what really pleases.

Entitled

She passes lightly over field and flower
Barely moving the grass beneath her feet
As if carried on the wind
May I know this grace again
And witness the beauty you sing inside

The fight cuts to the bone
And the night it wounds like a sword
You haven't left me here alone
I'm held, and I'm reaching

We've never known a love song
Don't know the steps, doot-doot-do-do
Never walked in fields of gold
On our faces before we knew
What a sin we share together now
Can we ever get away

It seems impossible that life should have this light
That day should cast away the night
As if torn by the wild
What can make us whole again
When it's love, obedience cannot be denied

This cry for permanence, it chains it grips
But we've heard love never seeks it's own
Waiting on true love's kiss
Oh we'll not be put to shame

We've never known a love song
Now we set our eyes on you
Never walked, never stood at all
Til you embraced us like you do
You draw us in, put us together now
Together we shall stay, always

We've never known a love song
Now we set our eyes on you
Never walked in fields of gold
Or drank the morning dew
You draw us in, we're together now
Together we shall stay, always
It's the dawning of the day

You have given us your voice
Strength gently spoken to our souls
Turn us from our course, to yours

Piece of Cake

I love love's patience. Love is confident in its own fullness and the inevitability of its object being brought to the same. For this reason minor degrees of perfection can be more readily celebrated, and these celebrations are the more precious (rather than diminished) because the fullness has yet to come.

Here's a loose analogy for one aspect of this. I made a cake once, just to eat it. When I iced it, it crumbled to pieces, and I laughed out loud the whole time. It wasn't made for presentation, it was made to eat, so it was fine that it fell apart. It was still cake! What might have otherwise been quite distressing tended more toward a happy near delirium. It was fantastic! The cake was free to fall, and I was wonderfully pleased. It wasn't the cake it was "supposed" to be; it was divine.

When faced with apparent disorder, love recognizes and finds glad participation with the divine.

Love's patience is at rest in the desert, in a way I don't think it can be in the rich valley. I don't mean to juxtapose the worth of the two, but to say this. The one who has known the refreshment of streams in the desert enjoys those of the valley in a way another could not. I may or may not enjoy another cake better than that broken cake, but now my enjoyment of every cake is better for it.

Love doesn't feel the need for a good presentation, at least not in the way that would disrupt joy in the midst of imperfection. There's an exalted culinary artist who is perfectly crafting each one of us for specific purposes. Love praises his wisdom at every stage of development. Love knows the mess in the bowl will melt in his mouth, and treats it with the same respect.

Blue, Grey, Green

Don't worry mama: he's comin' for you.
He's gonna lift you up, beyond the blue.
Don't mind the darkness; just look for heaven's dew.
The earth is breaking open now; up springs life so new: he comes for you.

Look it's rainin' mama; a thousand tiny worlds well they can't keep away.
The earth, it pulls them down, reaches up, empties the skies of grey.
Sometimes it whispers; some-times it floods. What do you hear them say?
I hear them sing to me of love, falling to rise another day: a thousand worlds can't keep away.

The trees make peace with gravity.  They fight and they rise; they thrive on the life that dissolves the stone.
Up top they build houses for birds, and hang fruit for the ones down below.

They sing every one, and they clap their hands. Through winter and spring, be sure they will stand for the sun's return.
He was, and he is, and he comes: our hearts come alive as he burns.

He was, and he is, and he comes.

Don't worry Mama: he's comin' for you.

Raven Lochs

black, as the ravens
boast her hair, her tears
swimming on her bed
darkness, with the lights on
writhing black.

sees no counsel for this pain
such that cruelty could not plan.
seven lines of sorrows cannot hold
anguish to its end, but may suggest
another sees.

We

He, in his time of terror meets me
   Baptized into darkness greets me
   Where I had sealed my tomb.

I, hear the cry of separation
   His descent to condemnation
   Which was before my own.

We,

We sing together in the Evening
   Sorrow's joys, and Rest in grieving
   Until the morning comes.

His.

The world was to me a wife wandering from her husband, only as much as I had forgotten him. Every golden vein flowed black when it was my name I thought she called. Her purest fountain turned to wormwood as I counted it mine, and threatened the end of my thirst.

Beauty remains while we are his. Only if I pluck the flower do I dread its fading.

Instead let me sing in his fields, and drink from his vines, praising his radiance in the creatures he calls forth, and resting in his constancy as they lie down.

The Holy Spirit Reveals and Exalts Christ

I am speaking to the point of discerning whether or not a given word or spirit contradicts the testimony of Jesus Christ.
I think it's clear that satan lies mainly by improper application of truth, not predominately by outright contradiction. The enemy's message will often affirm many biblical principles, while leading a person away from dependence on Christ. To avoid deception, we have to look at our heart with God, recognizing our inability to judge correctly apart from his Word with the help of his Spirit.

It's practically very simple.  Lord, you see me. You see how I feel about this. (good or bad) Jesus, I'm coming to your throne for judgment. It's your answer that gives life, independent from my understanding or feelings. Let me walk with you. It's you I need, far beyond anything. Let me see that you hold it all, and let me hear only your voice.  Let me have your purposes and plans toward these things, and ideas, and people, and not my own.  I care (most of the time if we're honest) too much about this - let my rest be in your ordering of things. Free me from desires even for things that are good and right, when they are contrary to your leading. Let me go out with joy that is completely free from my say on any matter, because I'm so delighted in yours. Let me be led forth with the peace of your ruling all things, no less our hearts.

1 John 4:1 Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God: because many false prophets are gone out into the world.
2 Hereby know ye the Spirit of God: Every spirit that confesseth that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God:
3 And every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not of God: and this is that spirit of antichrist, whereof ye have heard that it should come; and even now already is it in the world.

  Legitimate prophecy, stands on the testimony of Jesus Christ. This is its foundational message, the point from which it gains its strength, and it's apex, the glorious vista which it spreads before you.  Here it bestows all honor and praise, and it is here that it calls for roots to be struck down deep. Jesus Christ, of the seed of David, raised from the dead, presently building his church, coming soon to delight in her perfection. He's fully pleased and overflowing, the perfect object of the father's joy.  Well meaning messengers may effect emotional response without drawing your confidence toward Christ. Our enemy wants you to feel good about yourself without regard for how the father feels about Jesus. But we're meant to look to the fulfillment of scriptures, the exaltation of Jesus Christ as the true Messiah, our currently reigning King and accessible friend, not to the word of so called prophets who prey on the desires of our flesh.  Did the word exhort you to look to Jesus, the living Christ?

 9 And the angel said to me, “Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” And he said to me, “These are the true words of God.” 10 Then I fell down at his feet to worship him, but he said to me, “You must not do that! I am a fellow servant with you and your brothers who hold to the testimony of Jesus. Worship God.” For the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.

 It seems clear to me also from this passage in Revelations, that prophecy is given so we might rejoice in Christ having overcome and brought us to be filled at the Father's table, having been ransomed by him. Prophecy should celebrate the certainty of his coming as the bedrock of our joy, freeing us to submit requests and believe for particular events or specific manifestations - because our hearts are set on him, not these outcomes.  I remember Jesus telling his disciples not to let their rejoicing or rest or fulfillment be found in having received even spiritual blessings such as the demons having been made subject to them, but instead to rejoice that their names were written in heaven.  All our fountains are in him.  Jesus alone is our prophet, priest, and king.  Please take to him all I have said, let him confirm it, and let us praise him together.

A Holiday at the Sea

     It had become clear by the end of the summer that my life was turning a corner, and the last thing I wanted to do was to start this new season without a plan.  A long-time acquaintance, now a good friend, invited me to vacation with his family and friends for a week or so.  I thought to myself, "Great, I can go to the beach, and just relax, and seek the Lord for direction."  Such was the graciousness of my Host, that He left me with no doubt: I should not seek him for direction.  The Lord was inviting me to enjoy simply being with him, at the beach, with friends.  


     "He loves Thee too little, who loves anything together with Thee, which he loves not for Thy sake." -Augustine


     Having my first and fullest delight firmly set in who he is, it was finally OK to enjoy things, not for their own sake, but as tokens of his love.  It had been only months since I had come to understand that we may take pleasure in the things of this world without compromising our faith.  Having found rest in him, I had begun the practice of receiving all things for the significance he brings to them, as context for relating us to himself.  We walked along the beach at night, maybe seven of us, but none was closer than he.  We climbed and sat upon a small lifeguard stand, (all of us!), and sang over the dull roar of the ocean: hymns, and songs from our favorite musicals, and Disney movies, unashamed.  The voices in harmony were beautiful, the childlike regress, magical.  His song over me was far better. 

     The next morning I had a conversation with one of the bright young ladies vacationing with us at "Papa's Palace."  She was quiet and reserved, but I wanted to hear about her faith!  I asked her questions like, "What excites you?" and not knowing my boldness, "Is there something in particular that deeply troubles you?"  In response to the latter she drew back and said essentially, "I hardly know you. What are you after?"  It was no secret that I'd made her quite uncomfortable.  I explained that I was merely trying to get right down to the marrow in which all of her happiness rested.  Red-faced and aghast she talked about trust and building relationships over time.  She made plain how abhorrently foolish it is to skip right to dessert, my words, and though I really could not believe her at the time, I was blessed with the humility to listen.  Praying about this that night, I was enveloped in his rest like never before, again.  Yes, it was true.  She was right!  Why had I not seen this?  

"The best surfer out there is the one having the most fun." -Phil Edwards

     My 'now good friend' is part of a ministry he refers to as "surf church", and was glad to teach me the basics of surfing during this trip.  This. Was. A. Blast!!  It was loads of fun, and I learned something of the overwhelming power of the wave.  They come to shore so fast that in order to catch a ride, you have to paddle toward the beach with all your might!  This comes after having paddled out to the break point, against the incoming surge.  This was exhausting.  In fact, it was impossible in the beginning.  I paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled trying to get out to where I could catch a wave, to no avail.  I wasn't strong enough.  I didn't have the proper form, nor the strength, nor the stamina.  I had to practice in the shallow water, where the waves were already breaking, where I could push off of the bottom with my feet and gain momentum before paddling to catch the wave.  This worked!  I learned how to catch a wave, to stand up on the board and ride it in.  I was able to rest between sets, I learned to paddle correctly, to some degree, and I gained the strength needed to paddle out over the once formidable breakers. 

     Satisfied in the Lord, I really enjoyed the process of learning to surf, and not getting it right, and that being OK.  Besides, there never was the smallest chance of experiencing the joy of the depths, without first appreciating the fitness of the shallow.  Likewise, gratefulness to God for the people he places in our lives, without respect to particulars, is the path to rightly treasuring their complexities.  There is great joy to be had in kindness shared among acquaintances, sometimes because much remains unknown.  The relationships I have, just as they are today, are his gift to me.  These are part of the context through which he's inviting me to enjoy his pleasure, and there's no pressure to get out to where the waves are breaking.  The rich, intimate friendships I long for, in which great magnitude of thought and emotion can be shared without hesitation or discomfort will come about after lots, and lots, of paddling!  

"The hard working farmer must be first partaker of the fruits." -2 Timothy 2:6

     In prayer that night, I saw for the first time how perfect all of my relationships are each day, provided I receive them from a loving father.  Even with the tensions which burden some of them, there remain abundant opportunities for our good and His glory.  I saw something else that night, a glorious treasure: I saw his full enjoyment of the current depth of our relationship.  That is not to say I saw the full extent of it, but that there wasn't a lack of satisfaction on his part because of my difficulty in opening to him.  Jesus had held nothing back, offering him full intimacy, and there's no question of whether I'll be made like him.  He is secure in his own goodness, and in his commitment to bring me to recognize and embrace it.  This is peace.  This is patience.  This is kindness.  My rest in him is enriched by his pleasure being independent of the present maturity of this rest.  In like manner, now he makes us alive to the service of others.

     The power of the sea is both frightening and majestic.  It's enough to know a surfer who's willing to bring me as far as he's gone, at the right time.  We'll play in the deep once we've grown.  

The Witness in the Sky is Faithful.

“REMEMBER , THAT JESUS CHRIST, 

THE SEED OF DAVID, 

WAS RAISED FROM THE DEAD, ACCORDING TO THE GOOD NEWS I PREACH.” (2 Timothy 2:7)

“Timothy, remember this living man, the king, our friend, Jesus.”  He’s the oldest living descendant of King David, which makes the throne his.  “Yeah, yeah, I know, King of kings and Lord of lords. I’ve got it, next...”  Well, Paul could have left this little bit out of the letter to the famous Timothy, yet it remains.  In fact, he sandwiched it between “Jesus Christ,” and, “was raised.”  I think he’s making an important point, but what?  “Remember, you that teach others, Jesus is the living King.”  He’s in charge.  He’s running things now. 

"Once I have sworn by My holiness; I will not lie to David. His descendants shall endure forever And his throne as the sun before Me. It shall be established forever like the moon, And the witness in the sky is faithful." (Psalms 132:35-37)

He’s faithful, that is, he judges righteously.  “Ooooh, hmm, I don’t know if I want a judge.  I liked it when you said friend.”  Who is the king, but the final and supreme judge?  If you don’t like the king’s decision, there is no higher authority to which you may appeal.  “Um, I don’t care much for the A-word either.”  Don’t forget that this is the Good News.  Our friend, the king, has power to give us justice! Maybe that’s exactly what we tend to shrink back from, with good reason.

“The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.” (Acts 17:30-31)

We really want justice for ourselves, but definitely not justice for the ones we have wronged!  It's clear though that we can't separate his forgiveness for us, from his forgiveness of our enemies.  This is what has torn us to pieces, but we have hope.  The man he appointed is Jesus, who said,

 “Come unto me, all you who are weary and weighed down, and I will give you rest, Look to me for your strength and see me for who I am, because I don't despise the weak, I treasure them, and you will find rest for your souls.” (paraphrase of Matt. 11:28-29)  

         His judgment is mercy and forgiveness for our past, and gentle leading into the affections of God for our future.  Anything contrary to these he devours with a sword that comes out of his mouth.  He is a judge to be feared.  He laid down his life to demonstrate his resolve: for us to come to him, which is what we must do in order to receive him as our king and friend.   We come to him seeking relief in his good judgment, and he continues to call.

Remember, Jesus WAS RAISED.

Hey Timothy,

      This is your dear ol' dad, a.k.a. Prisoner Paul, with a quick note before I head off.  Some things for you to think over:  Don’t forget that Jesus is alive… 

What!!?  Seriously?  He’s not writing to little Timmy.  Timothy is running the church at Ephesus, and Paul has just finished telling him to train teachers, of teachers of the gospel.  Why tell the top educator at Ephesus to remember the most basic point of every class?  How could he possibly forget?  This fact is secure my brother.  It’s not going anywhere.  Don’t mention it for thirty years, and even if he completely loses his marbles, he could probably still tell you.  So why does he say it?  Because, it is the most important truth. 

        “REMEMBER, THAT JESUS CHRIST, THE SEED OF DAVID, 

WAS RAISED

FROM THE DEAD, ACCORDING TO THE GOOD NEWS I PREACH.” 

(2 Tim 2:8)

Paul says in another letter, look, if Jesus wasn’t raised, this whole thing is a sham.  At the risk of looking like I’m chasing my own tail, I’m gonna ask this question.  If it’s the most important concept why does Teacher-Trainer Tim need reminding???  OK, it helps to look at context.  This number-one concept, has a name.  It’s the name of a person.  A little further along we see that it’s a person from a particular family.  The founding principle of this subject has ancestors!  He’s not telling Timothy to remember a formula, not the quadratic something-or-other for some kind of fancy math, not a chemist’s recipe, not a lesson in grammar, or etiquette, or something he learned in Phys-Ed, which is maybe the closest, but not it!  Timothy, remember this person, and not like Great Aunt Bertha who died a few years back.  Oh wasn’t she the nicest old lady.  No!  I mean, yes she was nice, but don't think of him like that! 

Don’t remember him that way!  He was raised!  If Chief Burns died somehow, you’d hear tell of it soon enough.  Since you haven't, when you think of him, he’s still around.  You'll probably see him soon.  His memory to you is more than the charred remains you find when sifting through the ruins of your mama’s scrapbook!  He fits into your understanding as a man of proper authority, going about his business today like the rest of us, except he's dispatching justice, and seeing to it the citizens are protected and served, and criminals tried, unless for some reason in your mind he was the fire chief.  If you have trouble, you may call him.  You might expect an answer.  He never takes too long to get back to me.  Finally, if something wakes you to gratitude for his service of the community, you may attend his celebration.   

Timothy, remember this living man, the king, our friend, Jesus.



Jonathan Parnell speaks to the point right (here.)

Crucify Him!

     Beware our estimation of another's worth. That gay community leader, prosperity preacher, bum, architect, prostitute, Buddhist, grocery clerk, Calvinist, IRS worker, witch, real estate mogul, classical musician, child molester, atheist, drug addict, or congressperson, may be slated for God's mercy.

"But there is forgiveness with you, that you may be feared." (Psalms 130:4)

     Potiphar's wife maybe felt pretty safe attempting to have her way with Joseph. He was only a slave boy after all. She falsely accused and imprisoned the future lord of the entire region! Jesus delights in showing compassion to those we may be naturally inclined to despise and abuse. He has mercy on whom he pleases, not based on the approval of the holiness watchdogs or the doctrine police. His recipe is not your grandmother's recipe. He has other friends, that are not our friends, and they will be sitting next to us at dinner. We need to be wise!

     What is the fear of the Lord?
He is ready to show mercy, and we dare not cross him. Why are these three people in my life right now? That he would be praised for his mercy. They are who they are at this moment, and the difficulties or sweet joys of our relationships are what they are today, particularly for his good purposes in the shaping of rebel hearts for gladness in him. I had better not receive or reject them for any other reason. Let their more noble features warm me to his majesty, let their cold, crude dealings pierce me with memories of his great kindness and patience, and let me treasure this time with my father.

     What is the fear of the Lord?
It is thankfulness, resting in his goodness, in the midst of the presently imperfect. It's grace to love others where they are, how they are, because He's so good, and because they belong to him. He might choose to reveal himself in a way that gives us both new life! He does.

"The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, to depart from the snares of death." (Proverbs 14:27)

The Lord, Not the Calling.

     I couldn't sleep. I was absolutely thrilled, elated with thankfulness for what was to be. I had been approved to work as a substitute teacher, and had received my first assignment, high school science. That might sound like a nightmare to some of you, but my heart overflowed because of his favor toward me in this! What a blessing! I was sure I would see the Lord's goodness! The thought occurred to me, "What if it's a total disaster?" A fair question, from the Lord I think.

     What if? His blessing is guaranteed in Christ, not my ideas of how it may manifest. It could be a complete disaster, and, however bad, still be a blessing. This gave me pause. The goodness of the Lord I was sure of upon expectation of certain events, is true goodness regardless of the actual outcome. A hopeful appreciation of the circumstances reminded me of his kindness, and He reminded me of himself as my treasure, unfading. However things turned out, it would be at least as good as I imagined, though it might look and feel far different than I supposed. He is worthy of that joyful thanksgiving and praise, independent of things going "our way", and that is His gift us us. We have his good name to celebrate, his self-satisfaction to rest in.

     Fifteen minutes into the first period, I had to call the office to report a student having left the classroom without permission. At this time, another student seated nearby let out *the loudest* flatulence I have ever heard, and the entire class erupted into raucous laughter, with the vice-principle on the phone. Had I feared the establishment of my rapport with the school staff, (probably the first concern for subs who desire call-backs), I'd have been mortified. Instead, knowing the Lord's good design for our troubles, that moment was pleasant! I enjoyed his favor then in a way I could not have if things had gone, "right." Having received wisdom, I finished the call, waited a moment for the students to settle somewhat on their own, and redirected them to their work. The rest of the day went smoothly. The senior staff, "poked their heads in", a few times, finding the classroom as it should be, students attentive to my teaching and their assignments.

     I was remembered, and called back repeatedly, not merely for having maintained solemnity, but for bringing order from chaos. This was the Lord's doing, and it was marvelous in my eyes.

Stop Selling Unconditional Love

Jesus purchased with his own blood, from every nation, tribe, and tongue, a people for himself. (Rev. 5:9) This was not without regard for our sinfulness, but to demonstrate his goodness in forgiving it, that he might be known as glorious for his mercy. (Rom. 3:25)(Rom. 9:23) Only those deserving of wrath have a claim to this mercy. (Gal 5:4) His enemies are the ones in need of grace, and to those who are much more his enemies, grace for transformation does much more abound. (Rom. 5:20) It is plain that God's love is prescribed specifically for haters of God, (Mat. 9:13)(Rom. 5:10) so that those with apparently more grievous wounds do not find themselves embarrassed among the pious. (Jas. 2:5) Instead they find his glory, honor, and power more richly celebrated and extolled, for having chosen praise for himself in the context of such weakness. (1Co. 1:27) He has chosen to exalt his strength in turning those hard set against him, to rejoicing in his having been raised and made king of all. (Ps. 110:2) It will diminish our conception of his love and his majesty, if we conceal the condition which was met to acquire it for us, that is the condition of his blood shed which was given to acquire us for him. (1Co. 6:20)(1Co. 7:23) We must hear that at our worst, particularly where we were most against him, he embraced us, received the agony of our hatred, and received us as his own, that we would rejoice in him in place of and above all else. (2Co. 5:15) It should be understood that the love of God  works in us a life transformed at its core into that which earnestly pursues recognition in every sphere of the greatness of his name. (Php. 2:13) It's love because it works love in us. In the sense that it grieves our wrongs, It's not unconditional, it is transformational! 

       "Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD!
       O Lord, hear my voice!
       Let your ears be attentive
       to the voice of my pleas for mercy!

       If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities,
       O Lord, who could stand?
       But with you there is forgiveness,
       that you may be feared.

       I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
       and in his word I hope;
       my soul waits for the Lord
       more than watchmen for the morning,
       more than watchmen for the morning.

       O Israel, hope in the LORD!
       For with the LORD there is steadfast love,
       and with him is plentiful redemption.
       And he will redeem Israel
       from all his iniquities."

       -Psalm 130 (English Standard Version)

A graceful consideration of my death, and that of Christ.

I have been many times over confronted with the failing of my physical body unto death, and have of late simply responded with, "Let me not be afraid." I trust him for this, and the moment passes. Sometimes it persists, and I am directed to entrust myself to him as the one who holds this flesh, a kingdom resource for the glory of his name. I said the other night, "hold everything together," which was actually really comforting, since it reminded me that he holds EVERYTHING together; what's my body? I'm usually comforted by the fact that this is his life which he will lay down at the right time that his name be praised, and not in the middle of the night for no purpose, but tonight this went far deeper.

Tonight, when I said, "Lord keep this your body for the glory of your name," thinking, "for the right time," he changed that into something beautiful. I had relied on him before to put off the immediacy of the threat against my physical life. He changed this fashion of my trust in him, into the expectation of his pleasure in my death, at any time. He will be glorified in me, whether by life or by death. Precious in the sight of God is the death of his saints. My life has been purchased by and is subject to the rule of Christ, so that as with his own life, He lays down this life, and He raises it again, to the praise of the glory of his grace. My death is pleasing to the Father because he has chosen it as a real ingredient in the exaltation of the name of Christ.

It pleased God to offer His son, that we might value, and praise, and treasure his son infinitely for the great mercy he effected in the shedding of his own blood, this mercy which is the turning away of the wrath of God we had stored up against ourselves, by not infinitely treasuring God, and making us alive together with him, sharing his very nature. He died so that God might be praised for forgiving sins, rather than slandered as an unjust judge, as one might decry any judge that simply passes over murders and the like. This is good news for us because we can receive that grace, that our death may bring praise to God for his great mercy when we are raised with Christ!

Jesus said, "Whoever will save his life shall lose it; but whoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel's, the same shall save it."

MY question to anyone reading this is as follows:
Will your death result in praise for the name of Christ?

fellowship

I stand with my head down. They may wonder if I am praying. They may not notice at all. What would you have me do? Why am I here at all? I was excited to come. I didn't even ask if you would have it. It seemed only right that it should be. Here I am. I feel such pressure to seek acceptance. I am accepted in the beloved. Help me to know this, else I will certainly seek my own. Draw me close. Let me see with your eyes. I must tremble before you, that I may see your beauty in these. Thank you for dirty dishes, an opportunity to share. I reminded the four year old that you were alive. It was only after she reminded me that you ever were.

Miracles and Tragedies, All Glory

I wake each day joined to a vessel seeking its own course. The captain reels and staggers. He shakes his fist and shouts into the wind, challenging the gods. Providence lends us favorable conditions, and he boasts great swelling vanities in proportion to the towering waves which had threatened to forever bury us in the depths.

It is your hand LORD that steadies the helm. You strengthen our hearts and add to our days. It is your face that smiles upon us, and in the thick darkness of the storm your countenance hides. You draw some safely into harbor. Others you dash in pieces against the cliffs, scarcely saving us alive. Both will praise you. Your mercy accomplishes this, your zeal for your name, that our trust and fear would not fall upon the wind and waves, lest we in our foolish pride should think to have ruled over them. For your own sake you do this. Your glory you will not give to another.