Into My Heart

When I was a child, there was a little prayer chorus that we sang:

Into my heart,
Into my heart,
Come into my heart,
Lord Jesus
Come into today,
Come in, I pray
Come into my heart,
Lord Jesus

I am wondering, as I grow older and hopefully wiser, if it is not so much the indwelling of Him in me but my journey into Him. I am being drawn like a moth to a flame. It is mesmerizing. As I travel, I am drawn closer by an inexplicable force.

Into Your heart
Into Your heart
Draw me into Your heart
Lord Jesus
Draw me in today
Draw me in I pray
Into Your heart
Lord Jesus

Play

This week I had the opportunity of watching kids play. Being a grandparent, it is something I enjoy more than I ever have before. The interaction, the smiles, the frowns, even the fights. All part of becoming a part. This morning, I was listening to a popular "mix" channel on the radio. I don't know if it was a set for one specific artist, but the message was hopelessness. The message that hit me most was dying is a second chance. As I thought about that, I saw those kids in my mind. I realized that relationship is being lost in our world. I don't mean that in a bad way, because there are so many wonderful things being done with technology. Facebook, My Space - get slammed by the media on a daily basis. But in a way, people are connecting, if in a distant way. It seeems to me that we are living on a frontier. Where we are separated not by vast miles of prairie and mountains, but things just as dividing. Our schedules, our energy levels, our jobs - everything separates us from those we love and those we want to love. I can literally retreat from the world and through technology create an entire world in which to live. But maybe that is the down side. I can be who I want to be, but am I being who He made me to be. I need time to play. Somehow, to carve out the moments of doing nothing. Strange idea, making time for nothing. For silence, for play, for mindlessness. Weird, huh

I am not God

I am not God. Simple, straightforward, duh! But it was a revelation this morning as I went through my litany of prayer gripes. You know as you are asking God to hold your loved one in the palm of His hand, but you can't resist saying, "And while you are, I am sick and tired of so-and-so". You are struggling with yourself, because it is not your business, but it affects you, you hate to see them hurt, wouldn't they be happier if. The list goes on and on. But as I began to roll the footage, the words came to me "I am not God!" I am not God. I have no control, neither do I want to. I don't want the responsibility so why and I strapping it on my stooped shoulders. For that fact, I couldn't fix it if I tried. My fixing would be a band-aid on a festering wound or a bow on a really ticked warthog. Not effective or appreciated. So I am off the hook. I am not God! I read so many statements about the freedom of the Christian faith. I really get ticked off. I don't understand what they mean, really. But today I do. I am not God and I have no business handling, worrying about, fixing, or cajoling the people and situations in my life. Hallelujah (As in the Messiah chorus)

Death: The Art of Letting Go

A young woman died this weekend. Passed away, expired - what trivial words to the magnitude of the event. She was fighting her second round of breast cancer. She leaves behind twin 12 year old boys. A child left behind is sad; two is tragic. There is not an earthly word to describe the loss. A wonderful mother, talented educator, fine Christian, humble servant of God. If we were even able to factor out the suffering her death brings, what a waste of potential and years of love and devotion to family, friend, students, but most of all God. Is that why, when someone dies, we focus on the part they will miss instead of the part that they made. She lived. Her life gave birth to these two precious boys. They share her dark hair, expressive eyes. They share and have seen firsthand her faith. As a teacher, she taught inner city kids, giving many of them the mother figure they had never known. Would not have received, if she never lived. What an incredible gift God gave the world in her life. So why not acknowledge that. It is like the opening and closing credits of a wonderful movie. The anticipation in the beginning as the names roll out and sitting and "hmmming" afterwards, reviewing with those fellow lingerers, remembering the scenes. The scenes that made up her life. Knowing how much He loved her, how can I question her leaving. I can and I will because He lets me. He holds me close to His chest and I beat against it in frustration, and anger, and pain. Until I can't beat anymore. And then exhausted I cling to Him sobbing and I know the tears shed are not mine alone.

Revelation: God's or Man's

A correlation was posed between the church of today and the church or yesteryear. Great minds with brilliant ideas were easily labeled heretics if their information was deemed against the church. In thinking of the here and now, I though how limited our view is as well. There are people thinking outside of the religious or church box and they are getting the same kind of flack. Centuries from now, our writings will be viewed as we now see those of centuries past. Limited but so passionate. My life was changed when I was researching a scripture and found a website on world scripture. The name ,was in itself. interesting. As I read an excerpt from Isaiah (of all books!), I found more or less the same teaching or illustration in the holy words from the Hindu, Buddhist, Jewish, and Muslim faiths; it blew me totally out of the water. In my evangelical mode, my first feeling was one of anger. It was as if they had stolen the Holy Grail. How dare they! Then I started to wonder, where did they get this - how did they get this - unless it came from God, in their land, in their time, in their faith - REVEALED TO THEM!!! I could literally see my club membership card vanish before my eyes. My exclusive ticket to heaven crumble to ashes in my hand and I literally and figuratively cried for what seemed an hour. It took some time to recover from the remorse of what I had been, what I had said, what I had even taught. But then I realized the sin was not where I had been or what I had believed. The only “sin” would be if I stopped traveling the journey.

Who Is God?

A Man Tells Me

A man tells me
God’s voice is like the nightingale
I do not know its song
Have I not heard God?

A man tells me
God’s majesty is like the mountains
But I live on the plains
Have I not seen God?

A man tells me
God’s power is like the earthquake
I have not sensed its tremor
Have I not felt God?

A man tells me
God skin is white as cream
My skin is black as ebony
Am I not made in His image?

Man, please tell me
Where do I find God?


Jo

Just Deserts or Desserts

I have a friend who recently came home to our group from an extended absence. The absence in itself was not one of his own choosing but a form of incarceration/rehab. I was anxious about his return. There were so many emotions that had been slipped under the carpet, just ready to raise their ugly heads. But the return was full of humility and repentance; no one and nothing was prepared for it. Lavish welcome, chastisement, anger, joy - all sentiments in whatever form or fashion, paled in comparison to the deep-seated humility shared. Now, I am sure there will be many that will be unhappy that there should be more consequences to this act of betrayal/desertion. Feelings that this friend should get his just deserts. But what are " just deserts". I always thought it was spelled "desserts" as in sweet treat after dinner. But it is spelled deserts in the plural, meaning "that which one deserves". Interesting. Because when it is the other guy, we are more than satisfied when they receive their comeuppance. However when it is me, I want grace, not justice. Sometimes the spelling, "desserts" is used, as a play on words. I like it better. Just and dessert are oxymorons. Dessert is the whip cream on the top of the sundae. Dessert is the best you could hope for, times 10. Dessert is something you don't deserve. I think maybe my idea of just desserts and God's are not the same. Would the sinful learn more from consequences? A resounding YES, we might say without thinking. Or do they learn more from grace. HMMM? What do you think?

The Holy Relic?

Holy Scripture.

It's power, it's persuasion, it's life.

The biblical writers were revealing their God to us. In their day, in their time, in their mixed theology, with their limited understanding of science, medicine, psychology, etc. It is amazing and, as I read the scriptures, I stand in awe. But not of the written words or of the men who penned them. But of the God who inspired them. His spirit moving, changing, transforming, inciting, and turning over tables, time and again.

The church throughout the ages has held onto this storehouse of revelation and feels, rightly so, that it is the keeper and guardian of this treasure. Some denominations feel, within it's bound volume, lies the original, tried and true literal voice of God. And nothing in this mean, old, bad world is going to touch it. What is sad, there are so many in this world that don't want to. A good part don’t even acknowledge it and those of us that do have fallen out of step with it.

As the church, what do we do? Hold the dusty tome and let it die this slow death, society has relegated it to? Or let it out and let it do all the things it was created to do. It is tougher than we ever dreamed possible, and therein lies my hope.

The Holy Scripture has withstood the stupidity of the religious for thousands of years. It can surely take us on.