02 September 2011

Mullings & Musings...

"But if there is really a God at the center of the universe, love at the core of the cosmos, love manifesting itself as loveliness in the garden —- doesn’t He care about the 330 children with names and dreams and who lay in Somalia with flies buzzing around their listless, wasting away limbs, till they breathe their last starving breath sometime this afternoon?

Yet if I think God doesn’t care about the hurting — aren’t I believing the chief lie of humanity?

The one hissed in the garden to Eve, the first deception that deceives us still — that God doesn’t care about the needs of His children. And maybe this is why the world hemorrhages— if we think God doesn’t care — why should we?

Isn’t it easier to blame Him?

When I believe the Edenic lie that God doesn’t care — is that the excuse to turn away, to spread the lie that God doesn’t care — when maybe the truth is that it’s humanity that doesn’t care?

If we love because He first loved us… do we now care, because we know He did first care, has always cared, will always care and has the nail scars to definitively prove it. If all the world believed the truth of God’s character — that God cares —- wouldn’t this world become a caring place?

He cares, so we care; He loved first, so we love now."

  • "A Prayer for a Daughter" (This is just beautiful... don't you think? I've enclosed a few words of this prayer, but be sure to read the whole thing.)
"Translating every enemy into esteemed guest
Translating every countenance into the face of Christ
Translating every burden into blessing
When it’s hard to be patient… make her willing to suffer
When it’s ridiculous to be thankful … make her see all is graceWhen it’s radical to forgive … make her live the foundation of our faith
And when it’s time to work… make her a holy wonder."

  • "where love comes from" (I just love it when God gives me a glimpse of home, usually just as I'm feeling most homesick.)
"Had Someone known that a homesick farm girl with a pining heart in the heart of the city would need wheat — the memory of the wide open gold fields, of Home, of the promise that He never leaves or forsakes?

Strange —- how love always leaves a trail.

I had knelt right there on the sidewalk of Rue Ferou, the cathedral shadow falling long along the street, across my hands.

I pluck two heads of wheat and I walk on to Jardin du Luxembourg with two heads of wheat in my pocket.

Far from our own wheat fields, far across the ocean, far away in Paris, I carry wheat in my pocket and shake my head at the wild grace of it all, and I tell Christ about it and I am home."

"...her dedication to her calling to be both a helper to her husband, John, himself a preacher of the gospel, and an advocate for her children. It was, in fact, her advocacy for her children that reveals her husband's great confidence in her as his helpmate. Because she willingly carried the burden of her children's salvation before the Lord, her husband was freed up spiritually, physically and emotionally to do the work God had called him to.

Her devotion to the children, however, was tempered by her supreme love and commitment to her King, seen by her willingness to "bear a swift witness against them" if they rejected Christ as their Lord and Savior. Of course, her prayer, as stated above was an earnest, heartfelt plea to her Heavenly Father that such a calamity would never happen."

"...Two years ago, I was staying in hotels that were so fancy they had subtle “signature fragrance” wafting gently from the air vents. I strode purposefully through airport terminals with my high heels clicking, and pulled my carry-on bag while holding four-dollar coffee drinks. I admired leafy lobbies from glass elevators, and shook hands firmly with company presidents. My fingernails were expertly groomed, my hair elegantly highlighted and bobbed. I could get macadamia nuts and a mimosa from the mini-bar, on company dime. I resisted that most of the time... ...Today, I pulled some bags out of a dumpster and dug through them for food, and I plan to do it again. There’s lots of goodness going to waste, and getting what we can use from the castoffs makes a difference for my family while we struggle to cover our grocery bills. And although it marginalizes me, I would rather root through these dumpsters than buy my family the kind of processed, low-quality food that better conforms to our budget."

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