So, What Are YOU Going to Do, LORD?

If you have ever prayed a desperate prayer, then maybe you too,
will resonate with the cry of my heart today...

LORD, my prayer is bigger than big-it is enormous...
It's not for me.
It's not for "some thing."
It is not casual.
It is HUGE,
Life-transforming
Heart-changing...
A miracle of dynamic proportions in every sense of the word.

It is for healing,
for restoration,
for the rebuilding of what never was,
or for what has been destroyed...
by life,
by trials,
by wounds,
by loss.

It is said of YOU, "Nothing is impossible with God."
I believe that!
I believe that with everything that is in me.
My prayer,
My request,
My "hope in YOU" has no other basis than this...
"All things are possible with God."

Father, without You,
without Your intervention,
Without an outpouring of grace
And an infilling of Your Spirit,
all is lost in this.
Only You can bring about change.
Only You can work the impossible.
Only You can bring about the mighty miracle that is needed.
Only You!

All is lost without You.
So, what are you going to do about this?


1 John 5:14-15
This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us-whatever we ask-we know that we have what we asked of him.

Pondering Refuge....Follow that Ball!

The storm "blew in" suddenly, or so it seemed. The clouds had actually been threatening something wild and possibly dangerous all afternoon. But it seemed like it came quickly once it started.

I watched from my favorite vantage point...right inside the door. Behind the glass door, with it open just enough so that I could feel a fine mist of rain and experience just a touch of the wild wind, I watched. (I love the wind unless, of course, it is blowing sawdust or furniture.)

I laughed to myself when a large pink beach ball came flying down the alley and made the turn into the street in front of my house. It bounced and flew and jutted from one side of the street to the other at the mercy of the wind and the rain.

The ball was blowing up the street, the rain was running down the street and soon the flighty thing became lodged under the front fender of the old truck parked across the street.

I considered going after it, but had no desire to suffer the consequences, so I continued to enjoy this spectacle of nature from the comfortable dryness of just inside the door.

I was more than a little surprised when, just as suddenly, the ball dislodged itself and began to tumble back down the street, fighting against the wind for all it was worth. It seemed to take on a life of its own, determined, against all odds, to make its way back home. (For, not only did it bounce into the stream of water running back the way it had come, but then it actually turned the corner and flew back up the alley!)

Again I laughed and, when the storm had played itself out, I ran out to try to catch a glimpse of the ball. I found it safely snuggled up against a concrete wall in the alley. Apparently, it had found a place of shelter, a refuge of sorts, hidden from the raging storms...just like me.

For I too, like that ball, have found a refuge, a place to ride out the the stormy gales of life. Regardless, of the storms that come my way, I have a safe place to run to and I am daily pavilioned in praise...

Psalm 27:5
For in the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion: in the secret of His tabernacle shall He hide me; He shall set me up upon a rock.
Psalm 61:4
I long to dwell in Your tent forever and take refuge in the shelter of Your wings
Psalm 34:8
Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the woman who takes refuge in Him.
Psalm 46:1
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.
Psalm 59:16-17
But I will sing of Your strength, in the morning I will sing of Your love; for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble. O my Strength, I sing praise to You; You, O God, are my fortress, my loving God.

Defeating Giants

So many times I've had to face a Goliath of my own,
Often I am hurt, afraid, betrayed alone.
and there stands Goliath in all his might and glory,
So sure that he already knows the outcome of the story.

Although Goliath towers so very high above me,
And his confidence in himself is plain for me to see,
All the fiery darts and painful arrows he has hurled,
Are merely useless weapons of this defeated world.

For I am sure that when Goliath boldly faces me,
He doesn't know his enemy is one he cannot see.
For my battles with Goliath are never fought alone,
But by the Mighty Warrior declaring victory from His Throne.

For Jesus is my Shield, my steadfast Hiding Place,
In Him I've found salvation, courage, strength and grace.
He's rescued me from trouble and soothed all of my pain,
And there lies Goliath wretched, defeated, slain.

So I will sing His praises and I'll shout the victory,
It's Jesus who will reign for all eternity.
And when my life is over and earth returns to dust,
I'll be singing there in glory somewhere near the One I trust.

For I am clothed in victory, a child of the KING,
And by the power of His might I can face anything.
No mountains too high, No river too wide,
In the arms of my Savior safely I abide.


written while facing my own giants.... 3.26.89

We Are a Vapor... For Ricki

Ricki's Mom and his brother AJ

Rarely, if ever do I sleep in. I don't think I know how. This morning, though, I was just pondering the fact that it was already 7:30 and I was hardly even up yet, and what to do with this Saturday-when the phone rang. It was one of "those calls" that you know will, in many ways, change, not only the course of the day, but many lives, as well.

It was my daughter Shawna calling to tell me that her brother-in-law (Ricki's younger brother) had been killed in an accident in the early morning hours. Shock and grief ushered in this day for Ricki's family. Eventually, the shock will settle into reality, but the grieving will hang around for a long time to come...this is life.

So, it is only natural, for me at least, that this event has caused me to ponder and consider the frailty of life. One of my favorite chorus says it so simply....

We are a moment You are forever
Lord of the ages God before time
We are a vapor You are eternal
Love everlasting reigning on high

Holy holy Lord God Almighty
Worthy is the Lamb Who was slain
Highest praises honor and glory
Be unto Your name
Be unto Your name

We are the broken You are the healer
Jesus Redeemer mighty to save
You are the love song we'll sing forever
Bowing before You blessing Your name
© 1998 Integrity's Hosanna! Music

We are a vapor...
We have no guarantee of time. This life is merely a prelude to eternity and I am reminded to make the most of each day, to count my blessings moment by moment, to continue to live knowing, with the Apostle Paul that, "To live is Christ and to die is gain."
We are the broken, You are the healer...
I pray that Ricki and Shawna and the rest of AJ's family and friends know and experience Your comfort and healing in the days to come. May a peace that passes all understanding transcend their loss and bring comfort to their souls.
Psalm 39:11
"...each man is but a breath."

Weavings

Weavings

They say the layered earth rose up
Ancient rock leviathan
Trailing ages in its wake
Lifting earth mass toward the sun
And coursing water cut the rock away
To leave these many-storied walls
Exposé of ages gone
Around this breathless emptiness
More wondrous far than earth has ever known.

My life has risen layered too
Each day, each year in turn has left
Its fossil life and sediments
Evidence of lived and unlived hours
The tedium, the anguish, yes the joy
That some heart-deep vitality
Keeps pressing upward toward the day I die.

And Spirit cuts like water through it all
Carving out this emptiness
So inner eye can see
The soaring height of canyon walls within
Walls whose very color, texture, form
Redeem in beauty all my life has been
The darkness and the light, the false, the true
While deep below the living waters run
Cutting deeper through my parts
To resurrect my grave bound heart.
Making, always making, all things new.

—Parker J. Palmer, in The Weavings Reader

"L' Shana haba' ah b'Yerushalayim!"

It begins every year, in the weeks leading up to the celebration of Easter.
It is this indescribable hunger, this inner desire, this stubborn yearning...
To walk where Jesus walked...
To kneel in the Garden...
To stand on the Mount of Olives...
To look out over the Sea of Galilee...
To explore the streets of Bethlehem, Nazareth and Jerusalem...
Every year, and even now, the emotions well up in my heart, the tears flood my eyes...
The desire never fully leaves.
But, after Easter, I place it once again on the back burner of my heart... The Impossible Dream. It's always been just a dream. Until now! Now the cry of my heart rings... "L' Shana haba' ah b'Yerushalayim!" "Next Year in Jerusalem!" Next year, the Lord willing, I will walk the streets, pray in the Garden, sail on the Sea... and I can hardly wait.

Letters to Jesus: Judas

Jesus,

There is no way to explain it, except to say that the voices in my head screamed louder for my attention that the small voice in my heart! Today, for the sum total of thirty pieces of silver, I sold my soul to the devil himself! For forty days he tempted you in the desert. He promised you all the kingdoms of the world, did he not? And yet, you turned your back and walked away. But me? Not me, greed and the desire for power and recognition and influence have so dominated my very existence that I would betray even my best friend, my only true friend in the whole world, for an amount of silver that would buy no more than a small parcel of land. My fate has been determined by thirty pieces of silver for all of eternity.

What is wrong with me? What has so flawed my mind that these wretched, screaming voices are able to control my thoughts, my will and my very being. If only I could relive this day. If I could only take back that one act of….of….

O God, my sin is so great, my deeds so wicked, my betrayal so profoundly evil. I know it is useless to even ask for Your forgiveness. If only I could explain it, justify it, but I can’t. There is no excuse for what I have done to Jesus the Christ.

I have heard Your teaching. I know Your words of instruction. Oh, believe me; I have even contemplated following Your example. But it can’t be done! I can’t! I don’t know how. I don’t understand. It is as though my mind is clouded, veiled to the message You preach. There is this fog in my head and coldness in my heart. I am totally unable to comprehend this thing You call grace; the very thing that I have seen you extend to others time after time.

The voices in my head tell me I am nothing. I am not worthy; I will never be good enough. I am bad, I am evil, I am beyond hope or redemption. And, for some reason, it is easier to believe the loud, raucous and shrill voices than to believe anything You have said to me these last three years.

Jesus, I want you to know, for whatever it is worth, that I gave back the 30 pieces of silver. “Blood money” they called it, but I feel no better. I read the loathing and hatred on the Pharisee’s faces, as I did on everyone else’s…except Yours. Jesus, how could you continue to look at me with such love? I am shamed by it.

I must go now…the voices….they are summoning me once again…they are calling me to the precipice…to the abyss…it is time to end it. Thirty pieces of silver was my price. One piece of rope is my destiny.

Judas