getting thanks...

Life has been interesting lately, then again when isn't it?

I was just driving home today and remembered to take a moment and let the thankfulness in

The thankfulness which so often, stomps out many of my bad attitudes... My bitterness, selfishness, and judgements from a foolish heart. I remembered that i need to learn thankfulness each day, over and over again-i need to sit and reflect on the beauty being out on my life.
As I drove, I reflected on today, on the past few days.

And simply, presently, most deeply, i am thankful just that it is OK to be human.

Ok to cry, to cry out, to love, to hurt, to hope, to not understand. It is okay to walk in the dark sometimes, stumbling, stubbing your toe, falling over yourself and barely unsuredly making out the next step. It is okay to dream, to read fairytales, to long for a day when this story will be clearer. And it's okay to sometimes get a little lost in the details and then take a step back to see that all those small things that scared you, were really okay all along. It is okay to not have the most up to date map. Perhaps it is better and maybe some of those detours were really the sweetest part of the journey. And perhaps they were the only way you would get to love the destination so dearly.

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weakness

but in ever way

at every moment

in every life's stage...

he understood,

he felt it, he lived it, he cried out about it...

our very God put on flesh

and the cloud of witnesses...they know-the walked this road too...they are beside us, cheering us...calling us froward on the race...the race, sometime, in the dark

and it's okay to let yourself need Him, need them...to need the body of Christ around you

and that brings me to the second thing, i am most thankful for

with this,

in this, the midst of all this mess and muck, these dross and diamonds, misunderstandings and pain,

i

am

most

thankful for

the power of love. that love, is greater than our darkness...our pain, and able to transform us, to transform our lives...

His love. His love in what He has done, His love in who He is,

His love being who He has made us to be

His love breathes through the love of those around us...

today, a dear friend called just as i was stepping away from work for a break...

ten minutes...and love, love from her heart to mine, encouragement, grace, joy spoken, from one endeared heart to another....i return to work, empowered by His love, by her love...

how does that work? How is it that love is the fuel that feeds our lives, that makes our lives worth living, that makes us who we were meant to be...

i returned to work, reminded of who i am because of who she is, because of who He is

I don't mean to be trite about love. I don't think it's just a cushy, empty good feeling...

no-it's something much deeper, greater, more fierce than that. and i think we all know this at the core of our being, of who we are. we all long, thirst and ache for this. and i have not yet learned to express it as i long to, but i see icons all around me, calling me to it...expressing the inexpressible...

love in motion, love in beauty, love in life.

and he came to give us life, and life more abundant than we could

ask

or imagine...

the diary of a moment, a day

each week, each day

i am made fresh, from scratch, from beauty, from life, from love

i am broken and made whole

i am becoming more who i once was and was meant to be

as slowly with each death a fear dies;

laughter returns;

hope is reborn,

and the things which once held my hope, now hold my gaze as i see them as they are,

reflecting deeper beauty, goodness, glory and light

i am remembering, i am forgetting

i am losing yet gaining

i am releasing yet clinging

i am sitting and running

i am resting and striving

i am learning and becoming

more and more a child

each day, every moment i am reborn

and

i am because He is

somehow along the way, life happens...

"it isn't a matter of courage...


she's just waiting for spring...."

-kylie johnson

as we wait, roots grow deep and the buds of life and love begin to pierce through past the darkness, hungry for light.

transformation takes time, it is more gradual than we like to think in our fast-paced world. we want comfort, quick fix, a verse or a formula to make it all better and the fruit appear. but no matter how we try and deceive ourselves, our formulas just don't cut it... growth, more often than not, doesn't happen in a blink, and it isn't forced...it happens naturally over time, in time, as we walk about and talk and live and eat and sleep...

a tree does a lot of growing when and where you're not looking; its roots delve down and we do not see, often buds are forming and we hardly turn our gaze until one day we step outside and find that tree which seemed dead just yesterday is now ablaze with blooms. so it is in the hearts of our brothers, and our own as well. outwardly, all may look like death. but the Spirit may be working his secret mysterious inward pruning and cultivating over time and how little we may see until the flowers bloom. thankfully to bring trees about, you and i do very little work, outwardly we may prune and weed and till but none of these make the tree grow, we just make room for it to grow.

they would not bloom were it not for that quiet work within which nobody sees and nobody.

knows. so that all glory may be God's, not to our power, our formula, our verse, or our argument.

so we love patiently, and pray hopefully and wait on the Lord to do His good and perfect work.

I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. He who plants and he who waters are one, and each will receive his wages according to his labor. For we are God's fellow workers. You are God's field, God's building.

Let patience have it's perfect work that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing...

i long so much

to document these days

of moving and mercy

wonder and praise

spent another beautiful evening with a dearest friend.

we read poetry together and marveled at the mysteries of his grace in our lives

how he's transforming, and revealing more and more light and glory

coming like a wrecking ball to everything we once thought and revealing a beautiful artwork beneath the surface of what we had seen. how sweet it is to be a child, and rest in his mercy, how joyous it is to be a patient revolutionary with hope in his power.

"how beautiful the breeze,

and the architecture of your smile."-kylie johnson

in spite of that, we call this Friday good

"The dripping blood our only drink,
The bloody flesh our only food:
In spite of which we like to think
That we are sound, substantial flesh and blood-
Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good."-Four Quartets

Last night, contemplating His death

being reminded of His victory,

how much I need

what He did upon the cross,

defeating death by death,

what he endured

gladly for our sakes.

taking communion,

remembering, his body was broken, his blood shed once for all

that we may be made whole and walk in newness of life.

He was nailed that our bondage may be broken.

He was cursed that we may partake of His glory and blessing.

He took on darkness that we may walk in His light.

We need his broken body and bleeding side to make us wholly alive.

So let us go to this blood-bought meal and remember Christ.

The Bridegroom takes the curse for His bride.

Let us go, and let us also

leave all other lovers, all idols which clamor for our hearts,

and cleave unto Christ our Savior, our Bridegroom, our Lord.

taste and see that the Lord is good

step out

onto the waters

in faith

in obedience

trusting

he who promised is

able

to accomplish all

that he

has purposed for

you.

his compassion

"The wounded surgeon plies the steel

That questions the distempered part;

Beneath the bleeding hands we feel.

The sharp compassion of the healer's art."

~T.S. Eliot

The Four Quartets

my friend Micalah and I like to paint together. cardboard from a pizza box became our canvas. this phrase from Eliot has been on my mind a lot lately. There is a lot of pain that comes to bring about healing. Sometimes the medicine we drink is bitter and kills a part of us, in order that we may live. And just as a child with a hurting knee must learn to take his hands off the bleeding knee to let it's mother apply the salve that stings, and must let the stitches be sown that pierce to mend, so I must learn to let go of my wounds, and trust God do His perfect, painful healing work on my heart.

"Flames purify.

Self's idol do not mourn

For it must die

That I to love be born.

Fire can't devour

The holy children's mirth

That turns this hour

From death to radiant birth.

O burning Son,

Fiercer than the furnace flame,

O purifying One,

Come, burn me with thy Name.

So, dead to sin,

Alive only in thee

My life begin

Now in eternity."
-Madeleine L'Engle