The years so many and memories still real
Point to chances and dances with life-setting choices.
And oh, how my heart could believe in illusions
And stubbornly choke on the mirrors and smoke
Of promises from a deceiver,
Whose only aim was to take and shame –
Never to give or forgive
Or redeem or fulfill a single dream
Like those I found in You,
My One More Chance.
What could I offer to You in return
For the touch of Your grace and the things I have learned?
I will offer the first of my heart to the dance
Of worship to You, My One More Chance.
[click to continue…]
It’s hard to look in the mirror – literally or figuratively – and not see it…
The evidence…
The scars…
The stains that are so obvious to us and, we’re sure, to the world around us.
Let someone float a compliment our way, and up they rise, at least in our silent thoughts –
The objections.
The dismissals.
That internal whisper that says, “If only they knew the whole story…”
Know what? Somebody does. And He’s the only one who has lived your story and His. And His declaration over you is the final say:
Sin erased. Shame forgotten.
Make no mistake about it. [click to continue…]
I spend a lot of time trying to think up new things, or new ways to say the familiar things. I’m a big believer in singing a new song to the Lord and the exquisite beauty that comes from being completely random every once in a while.
That said, our brains were build to learn by repetition, and our hearts were made to be renewed by reminders. That’s why the Bible has four gospels, Kings and Chronicles, and the books of Deuteronomy and 1 John. All built on some form of repetition. That’s why the early church met daily from house to house or had a regular assembly on the first day of the week. To be reminded. To be renewed.
I know I accidentally repeat myself plenty of times, but today I thought it may be time for a little deliberate renewal – some purpose-driven (sorry, Rick) reminders of the big stuff – a harvested collection of some of the good stuff. Not my stuff, but those themes that keep us going and keep going themselves long after we’re gone. So here goes… [click to continue…]
Many years ago, a little girl and her dad were walking through the grass on the Canadian prairie. In the distance, they saw a prairie fire; eventually, they realized, it would engulf them.
The father knew there was only one way of escape. He quickly started a fire right where they were and burned a large patch of grass.
When the huge fire drew near, he took his little girl and stood on the section that had already been burned. When the fire actually did approach them, the girl was terrified by the raging flames. But her father assured her, “The flames can’t get to us. We’re standing where the fire has already been!”
There is a fire that Christ-followers face that can seem as frightening. [click to continue…]
Got caught in my underwear last week.
Not literally – you can exhale and imagine something less disturbing. But what I experienced was on a similar emotional and mental level.
It’s been a c-r-a-z-y season time-wise for me for about the last month. I generally stay pretty busy, but this was my version of silly season – the time demands were beyond ridiculous. And under that kind of stress, I tend focus on what I do well and throw everything else into automatic pilot.
Probably not a good plan. In fact, not much of a plan at all – I was pretty much in survival mode. And so, in the process of focusing on what absolutely had to be done and what I’m good at, I dropped my guard over my weaknesses. And boy did they show up in some embarrassing ways.
Weaknesses are like underwear. We all have them but most of us would prefer not to expose them to the world. And we spend quite a bit of energy or money covering them up. [click to continue…]
Yes, this is me mocking my grandson. Or maybe Cason's mocking me. Hmmm.
Tucked away in the third stanza of a familiar hymn, Fannie Crosby penned these lines that were years ahead of her time:
Down in the human heart, Crushed by the tempter,
Feelings lie buried that grace can restore.
Except for the grace of God, every single one of us will go to our graves feeling guilty about our feelings. Can you relate to any of these?
- “I didn’t love my mother enough.”
- “I hate my father.”
- “I don’t like being a mother.”
- “I will never forgive her as long as I live.”
- “I love one of my children more than the other.”
- “Why can’t he just die?”
One person has said, “Emotions are what we have the most of, and know the least about.” One of the longest, and most frustrating searches that many people have is why do I feel the way I feel, and what can I do about it?
On the other hand, some people (stupidly) dismiss all that and passively allow themselves to be led around by their feelings as if they are helpless to do anything about them. Ever hear something like this? [click to continue…]
You show me Grace in the cases
Where I would be tempted to give up on me.
Yet you see past the walls and the falls to the work of art
Hidden in this cold heart of stone.
You alone have the faith to see what I could be
When You finish the good work You started in me
When You first showed me Grace.
And I’m amazed. And I thank you.
You show me Grace in the places
Where I’m still resisting the changes You make.
So you shake my desire from the mire of my stubborn will –
Patiently waiting till I bend.
You intend only good for me – to flourish, free
From the lifeless and broken man I used to be
When You first showed me Grace.
And I’m amazed. And I thank you.
You show me Grace in the spaces
Between where I should be and where I remain,
With a stain from a past that still casts a dark shadow when
All I can see is sin and shame.
Yet you came to restore the years and store the tears
That I’ve cried in my brokenness, longing and fear
When You first showed me Grace.
And I’m amazed. And I thank you.
You show me Grace in the faces
Of people who touch the untouchable me.
They can see through my blindness, with kindness they lovingly
Call out the best in me to grow.
And You know how I need to feel what You can heal
Through the tangible goodness You chose to reveal
When You first showed me Grace.
And I’m amazed. And I thank you.
You show me Grace in the traces
Of glory that whisper to me of my home.
While I comb through the aches and the breaks of a world that yearns
For the day You return to claim
Those you came to redeem from the grave and captive slaves
Like I was when You found me and paid all to save –
When You first showed me Grace.
And I’m amazed. And I thank you.
Have you ever woken up first thing in the morning and realized you were in a museum?
And you were what was on display?
You may not have recognized the location at first because everything seemed so real. You were traveling through one mental display after another of your past life.
Names.
Faces.
Feelings.
Friends.
Sometimes the scenes are wistful and happy reminders of people and days gone by. Sometimes you’re reliving the glory days. But sometimes it plays out more like a horror movie or a disaster cleanup. It’s ugly – and you’re the reason.
It may be a new day on the outside, but in here you’re trapped in the old ones. [click to continue…]
When the Son of man comes will he find faith on the earth?
-Jesus Christ (Luke 18:8)
Welcome to the waterdown season.
Welcome to the days when we’re thankful, but not really sure Who to thank.
Where we count our blessings, but choke on the Name of the Blesser.
Welcome to the days where we deck the halls and hang the balls,
And sing wistful songs about traffic jams and bells and chestnuts.
When the world becomes a Winter Wonderland without a Wonderful Counselor –
And seeks peace on earth without the Prince of Peace.
But I’m not whining or pining away for the days of Rockwell or Currier and Ives,
Because God has always had a remnant of believing hearts and transformed lives.
And I’m still hopeful and expectant that in the city sidewalks or crowded stores,
In festive churches or feastful tables, someone out there still believes. [click to continue…]
He was careless in the conflict, and a bit presumptuous in the battle. Unaware of the schemes or the true power of his enemies – unaware at times of who his enemies actually were – he went down, wounded in the battle.
This is not your typical military operation. This is a spiritual battlefield, known for its invisible armies and stealth weapons. Known also for its enormous array of spectators – some cheering you on from heaven, others just watching a battle they themselves should be engaged in.
Lying there, ashamed, in pain, and afraid, it’s easy for discouragement and fear to have the final word. But deep in his spirit another wounded soldier’s testimony from long ago begins to stir his broken courage and will: [click to continue…]
