By William Hole
You died on Easter morning
When the sun rose, you were gone
To be with our Lord, the Son,
Who rose on that day you loved
How joyful for you, and
Heartbreak for us left behind
Bittersweet Celebration
Sorrow and Joy inextricably entwined
Till Death do us Part,
Till Death do us Unite in Life
Death but once, to Rise Again
Death cries Nevermore
And is silenced Forever
And Life Goes On
Life Always New
Spring Rises Warm and Lush
Surprising yet expected Wonder
Regardless of how Cold, how Bleak
Eternal Victory has come, and Welcome!
He Rose, once wearing our Thorns
To Claim our hearts Forever
You died on the day He Lives
You Live with the Conqueror of Death
Bittersweet Nevermore
Happily Ever After without The End
And Love With Joy Everlasting
Inextricably Entwined in the arms of our Living Savior
I've told myself countless times that worry doesn't help, and it certainly increases my stress level. Will I ever truly learn this lesson? I resigned from my job two months ago to become a stay-at-home mom. Before we had children, my husband and I agreed that I would resign after we became parents, but those plans changed seven years ago when he decided to become a full-time student. My husband completed his degree two months ago, and over the last five months I have helped him submit forty-three job applications thus far. Over the last four weeks I allowed myself to become anxious about a trivial situation regarding my daughter. Yesterday the Lord worked that situation out in a way far better than I even thought possible. The next time I am tempted to worry about the job search I am going to remind myself that God is in control and recall some of the many times He has worked things out in the past. As George McDonald said, "No man ever sank under the burden of the day. It is when tomorrow's burden is added to the burden of today that the weight is more than a man can bear."
This Lent has been brought to me by Ms. Frizzle and the letter "Y." My first official Lent I was so afraid of getting it wrong that I only dared to give up hot chocolate--painful, but definitely doable. My confidence has grown and last year I gave up all kinds of things. This year I'm on a diet, Lent is my everyday, so I took a middle course and decided to be open to the idea of Sunday as a break.
I find shifting like that difficult, so I made mistakes. I swallowed a bite of pizza just in time to remember it was Friday. I scarfed a treat from my Valentine before realizing it was chocolate. I caught every episode of Project Runway, but there were several nights I failed to read even a chapter of The Book of My Life.
I was also ready to try something more extremely Catholic. I was going on retreat, but there weren't enough people so it was cancelled. Like Nancy Kerrigan, I sat crying, "Why?" maybe not exactly that dramatically, more of a wounded sulking, but there was a lot of emotion in it.
The interesting thing was in the middle of the mistakes and the crappy attitude, Lent went right on. My kids fell in love with McFish bites. I found lots of positive things to do with all that negative energy. I have almost finished St. Teresa's book.
This was my year to make Lent mine, even if I made a mess. Authenticity doesn't come from keeping a set of rules perfectly. It comes from putting your heart into it and trusting the rest to God.
"Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus, Just to take Him at His word; Just to rest upon His promise; Just to know, Thus saith the Lord."
These words were penned in 1882 by Louisa M. R. Stead. They came from a place of pain and uncertainty following a tragedy that took the life of her husband. The Stead family was enjoying a picnic together when they heard screams. Mr. Stead ran to try to rescue a young boy who had fallen in the water. Louisa and her daughter watched in horror as they both drowned. With her husband gone, Louisa faced financial hardship to the point of becoming destitute. In her journey of faith she learned to place her trust in Jesus. This well known hymn resulted from her story and still encourages and brings hope more than 130 years later.
I find myself humming or singing this song a lot lately. You see, life has thrown me some challenges and I am facing the issue of trust myself. I know that God is still in control and that He will work things out for my good. The conflict is between what I believe in my heart and what I see with my human eyes. It is easy to say that I trust God when relationships are good, the bills are paid, the kids behave, everyone is healthy, and everything is sunshine and rainbows.
But today..... I question.... I hum.... I believe.... I move.... I wobble.... I hum some more.... I take a deep breath.... I trust.
Seventh Trumpet Ministries
I love weddings! Today we are going to witness not just a wedding, but another story of the beauty and power of God's love and restoration.
Seven years ago, this couple bought a marriage license and said "I Do." A couple of years later, they received a letter stating that their marriage was not legally valid due to a detail that they had failed to notice and follow when they got the license. Of course, this was devastating news, especially to the wife. They continued to live as husband and wife, but no action was taken to change the legal status of the marriage. As the next few years passed, the couple went through the typical marital struggles, and found themselves questioning their faith as well, and it was beginning to look as though the relationship was going to end. They decided to seek out help through counseling, and they sought out my husband and me recently and shared their hearts and their story with us. We were privileged to be able to encourage them in their relationship and their faith.
I have already found myself getting misty when I think of the faithfulness of the Lord in restoring this relationship, and I know that He is passionately pursuing relationship with them. So today, we are looking forward to adding our blessing and agreement to this marriage, and to make ourselves available to love on and encourage them in their marriage journey and their faith journey as well.
If you are a
morning person, you may have noticed that there are those
who don't share your same enthusiasm. They simply want to be left alone.
My middle sister & I roomed together, after leaving home & being on our own.
The first morning, she woke me up by barging into my room, opening the
blinds, while joyfully, almost singing, good morning! I wanted to punch her.
Another time, my other sister & I were both home to visit. I had been up
a while. I saw her sitting on the couch, & said, "Good morning,". She
looked at me with a, "Go away and die" expression. I totally got it & left.
It's so nice to know that, God's mercies are new every morning. That's good
because I retain
nothing
others say, when I first wake. While in high school,
my morning mother, said to me, "Sonya, Isaiah 8:10," then quoted the verse.
Later, after returning from school, I asked. "Mom, this morning
you said, Isaiah
ate ten. What did Isaiah eat ten of?" She burst out laughing. I was very confused.
Then she explained what she had actually said. I then laughed too.
God never sleeps, so He is neither personality type. Morning people help us
function early & night people help morning people safely to bed. Thanking God
for both & realizing each are needed. Otherwise, Isaiah may eat ten of something
& I would never know why.Cold and drafty
Dark, looming and settled in as if invited to stay another season
The chill has made it's way to the bone
Our bones cry out for refreshment
Our souls yearn for the warmth of the Son
Bring forth the newness of what is yet to come oh Lord
May your hands be seen as yours
The maker, sustainer, creator, redeemer
Our bones cry out, Our souls yearn for You
My husband snores. Loudly. One night it was sounding like a screaming child with each breath. He got elbowed awake and asked to roll over. Ear plugs have saved our marriage. This weekend, on St. Patrick's day, a good friend lost her husband. He was 35 and died of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. This means that his heart had been steadily growing larger until it just gave out. There was nothing that could have been done. Now the crazy, obnoxious-loud snoring means the world to me. I have been laying awake listening to this precious sound. Pray for her. Pray for her two children. Hug each other a little tighter. God is good.
The Statue
Man of Stone
Sinewed Rock of Beauty
Someone poured
Passion into your creation
I can touch your face
As it watches Heaven
But you will never see
Who has touched you
You cannot enfold another
In your solid arms,
Nor return any emotion
You may stir in others’ spirits
You are Created
By the Created
An Expression of the Living
Yet not alive
You are a Catalyst of Thought,
Quiet companion of the Alone
Remind us of Life in its Beauty
That our hearts Can be touched,
Can be Given, Can transform
Our arms reach out and draw closer
Our Creator poured His Passion
Into us, and it is an Eternal Flame
That can melt a heart of stone
The Created may Create
The Finite may Reach toward the Infinite
We may turn our faces to Heaven
And find the Eyes of Love that made us
The Same Hands that formed, that sculpted,
The Nail-Pierced Hands of Sacrifice
Reach to our being to bring us Home
The Worthy desires the Undeserving,
The Maker makes us worthy,
Conceiver of the Inconceivable
Vanquisher of the Impossible
Sculptor of Souls
Touch our hearts, that we may have life Forever
For Eternity is found in the Passion of the Great Artist
Although I enjoy worshipping with fellow believers at my local church, I really treasure those times when I have the opportunity to worship with a larger, more racially and theologically diverse group from time to time. I attended a Christian college where attendance at our chapel service each day was mandatory. This was the highlight of my two years there. I was inspired by many wonderful speakers such as David Jeremiah and Lucy Swindoll, but what I enjoyed the most was singing hymns and praise songs along with about 2,000 other students. Last week I attended a Casting Crowns concert. As much as I enjoy listening to that band, my favorite part of the evening was when they stopped singing so we could hear the audience singing together more clearly. It brought tears to my eyes as I thought once again, this is a taste of what I will experience in heaven some day when the walls that divide us here on earth will be torn down. What a glorious experience that will be to some day sing praises together with an immense throng of believers representing every race, many different denominations, and every language group. Oh that will be glory for me.
I see Jesus.
Out of the boat!
Is this the Dead Sea,
out of the boat?
Submerged at His feet,
out of the boat.
Who needs to breathe
out of the boat?
Sweet, Oh, so sweet.
Out of the boat!
Yesterday I was doing school work with my 7 year old daughter. She was to read a paragraph and then answer some questions about the passage. We seem to always be playing "catch up" with school, and in order to speed things along, I decided to read the paragraph to her.
I read slowly and clearly. I pointed to each word as I read it so she could follow along. When I finished, I asked her, "Was that fiction or non-fiction?". She gave me a funny look and said, "I don't know. I didn't read it!"
As funny as that moment was, it made me think..... There are some things that you just have to do for yourself. I could listen to someone else talk about their relationship with God. I can observe someone bowing their head in prayer or lifting their hands to worship, but no matter how beautifully portrayed, it will never be the same as experiencing it first hand..
So I would encourage you to read His words for yourself....Pray for yourself....Worship for yourself.... These are personal expressions of a love relationship with a God who created each one of us as a unique reflection of Himself. We can walk this journey together, but.....
My prayer is not your prayer. Your song is not my song. My struggle is not your struggle. Your breakthrough is not my breakthrough. I don't want to rely on second hand stories. I want to know Him for myself.
This week, my family gathered to bid farewell to my grandfather. During the course of the weekend, I was told that some people were rather puzzled when they encountered various members of my immediate family, myself included, and found us to "not seem very upset" that our beloved father/grandfather had just died. I mentioned this to my mother, who summed it up by saying, "I guess I just look at death differently than most people." She is right. We miss Grandad very much, and we all have had our moments, but we simply KNOW that we know where he is, and that we will see him again. We do not "...sorrow as others who have no hope." (1 Thessalonians 4:13) A friend of ours shared with us that just last week, she had said to him, "Denver, I want to take you to heaven with me!" Grandad asked her how she was going to do that and what her husband would say (that's my Grandad!). She very simply shared the Gospel with him and asked him to pray with her, not because she asked him to, but because he wanted to, and he prayed with her and gave his life to Jesus. We simply know where he is...
O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? (1 Corinthians 15:55)
I love St. Patrick's Day. Why you ask? Well, it's the least
stressful of the holidays. The other holidays have become
so commercial that they are not even fun to me, any longer.
It's a day to reflect upon a man that did the extraordinary.
St.
Patrick, was not born in Ireland, but rather stolen, by
Norsemen, viking & pillaging in Britain, on his parents estate.
How many others, would return to a land, and a people,
that they were enslaved by, after being abducted from their
home. Their freedom being, once again gained back, by running
away, from said enslavement. Then because God told Him to go,
he returned to this land of his former enslavement, to bring
the gospel of Christ, to this land & people that were pegans,
drunkards, murderers, rapists & thieves? If that isn't extraordinary,
I don't know what is.
This is one of many examples, of what God can do in one person,
that can change the hearts and lives of many, in order to bless their
descendants, like me. Sonya Crogan, Smerdell.
Thank you God, for sending St. Patrick to Ireland, to
bring a nation to You.
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