Hard Eucharisteo

sometimes life is a pile of salt washed drift wood

and there is no order

or sense in it

and it's a mess

and sometimes you are like a tree

weathered, worn and broken

planted by still waters....

not so much

and sometimes, with sun obscure

you are standing in the grey

and there's not much left to do

but embrace the wood

of another kind of tree

sometimes that's just how it is

Counting with the community of the grateful:

~  understanding that knowing the truth and hurting is better than being the fool

~  finishing the little orange book

~  the admonition, blessing and encouragement we received from it

~  not knowing much, but knowing Him, and how that really is enough

~  the pain that comes from the loss of something that brought great joy

~  watching how one who is loved well, loves well

~  the healing that brings, like a balm on a burn

~  sending off dear ones

~  the adventurous journey ahead of them

~  the emptiness the leaving causes only because of the fullness their presence meant

~  how life was good with them

~  how they are gifts

~  how it's hard, but we are thankful, because who are we to say, 'it's bad', so

~  we count it as good

When I Want to Break Away

There is a restlessness around here.  I hate it because it's the antithesis of contentment.  Contentment with godliness is great gain.... I believe it.  I know it to be true.  But what do you do when it slips from your grasp?

Two things I do.  Remember I am not made for this world.  It cannot satisfy my longings.  It will never be enough.  Grasping for more of it does not get me closer to any arrival.  In Kingdom speak:  this is not my home.  I'm here on assignment and I'm a gypsy.  To try to shed my cloak of otherworldly oddity would not only be futile, but very disappointing.   Because, underneath the cloak, I'm still a gypsy.  This place doesn't have what I'm looking for.  No need to pretend it does.

But then, sometimes it does have what I am looking for.  When I look for Him, I can find Him.  Even here.
He is here.  He is here on assignment, too.  I'm part of His clan, and He gives His own special powers.... yes supernaturally special powers.  And so the second thing I do in my restlessness?

By His power I see, hear, taste and know.

Ears to hear and eyes to see--both are gifts from the LORD. Proverbs 20:12 Taste and see that the Lord is good. Psalm 34:8A and    more counting: Good Friday worship all in black... falling out of sight, out of notice for the cross set before us with roses red hammered violent into the rough wood like the Rose of Sharon and there we received body and blood and we remembered as the hammer fell,  we remembered so we will not forget warmth out-of-doors sun on skin shoulders dropping short sleeves kids playing... really playing  a screen-less day home-made chili and cornbread made by 9 year old hands Coach Ally at dinner, because the boy and girl invited her to come and she did sharing Easter lunch at Famous Dave's with friends congregating at a park with friends, kids and dogs friendly chats with strangers sitting at table communing with good friends 'leftover friends':  friends you can eat left-overs with sharing troubles, thoughts, dreams and possibilities cross and candle put away but not forgotten yellow tulips on the table the boy baking brownies living resurrection life because we can because He did. He is Risen Indeed!

Don't Throw Me Under the Bus!

So I was reading this book the other day... a book about social justice and spurring Jesus-followers to get aware and involved.  At one point, the author, in her easy and conversational tone, uses her uppity, Christian, non-social-justice-minded neighbor as an example of bad Jesus-following.  She just put it right in there between HIV/AIDS statistics and the Christmas cookie social.

 I read it, and I thought, "Oh snap!  Girlfriend just threw her neighbor under the BUS!"

And then I wondered if she used her real name.  Even if she didn't, you know her friends (and neighbors--let's not forget the other neighbors) know who she's talking about.  You can just see them standing around in the cul-de-sac chatting, while one with arms akimbo smacks her lips and says, "Girl, you know she be talkin' bout Luanne!"

And I think, poor Luanne.  Now we all know what a schmuck she is.

And I see this all. the. time.  I see it in blogs and books and magazines and... and ... well.. that's pretty much all I read, so blogs, books and magazines.  We are, as a society-- secular or sacred, a culture of full disclosure.  And I wonder, do we disclose too much?
And what we don't disclose, we censor, right?  No one likes censorship... not even people who say they like censorship!
And why is this important?

Well, for me, I've been thinking about what parts of my story to tell, who to tell it to and how and when to tell it.  My story is nearing four decades now.  In telling it, I could throw some people under the bus.  Those that know me, know I'm feisty and a bit like Peter, all too comfortable with brandishing my sword.  Shoot, who am I kidding?  I have thrown people under the bus.
I've sacrificed the reputation of another human being to tell a story.  Sometimes I did it for what felt like very, very good reasons... like you know it was necessary to include the horrible thing someone did in order to see God's greater providence in a situation, or in order to relate to the person I was talking to.
Sometimes, I did it because I was angry and wanted justice.
Sometimes, I did it just for fun.
And a lot of times, I wonder if I should have censored the story.

And I wonder if I'll get thrown under the bus.  Probably.  Will he or she ask permission first?  My sins will find me out, I know.  Will it be in the court of public opinion and social media?
I hope not.

And I don't want to be preachy and moralizing here, but I've been thinking a lot about this and thought that the other five people that read my blog should think about it too!  :)

Secret Things

The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but those things which are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.

Deut 29:29

Ah, the 'secret things' verse.  I'm sure there are endless arguments regarding the true meaning of what is 'secret' here.... what is meant for God alone.  And here I've taken this verse right out of context and plucked  it up at the top of this post, AND... I am going to arrogantly state what I think it means.

I'm siding with Calvin on this one.

Some things are not for us to know.  He's told us what we need to know.... it's more than enough to keep us busy.  Really.

Frankly, I'm getting tired of, and too old for, the endless debates.  I've wasted so much time trying to figure out stuff that I now understand is way above my pay-grade.  While I was exercising brain cells ad nauseum, my joints were rusting out.

That's not gospel living.  And if there still be any confusion about that, let it be laid to rest in the gospels themselves.

Tonia posted today a challenge to immerse ourself in gospel.  

Yes.  Jesus' very own words.... definitely revelation I need bother with.