tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68369307619973342172024-03-13T14:08:04.454-05:00ConnectedThoughts, ideas, and photos on being connected; continuing the start of Ancora Imparo - and the desire to continually learn.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.comBlogger696125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-91680213356559028142016-02-28T13:22:00.002-06:002016-02-28T13:22:24.642-06:00Throw Open the Windows<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAPK0dbz9lo/VtNDMGSaReI/AAAAAAAAPKc/XDyBfW_mj8o/s1600/20160227_164806.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DAPK0dbz9lo/VtNDMGSaReI/AAAAAAAAPKc/XDyBfW_mj8o/s640/20160227_164806.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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Spring weather in the Midwest can sometimes be felt in late
February, starting with days of sunshine spilling out; warming everything with the
touch of bright rays. Tempestuous weather begins in this season; snow may be
flying tomorrow, tornadoes or rain can come, and between are the sweetest of
early spring days. As the ground starts to thaw, I can smell the warming moist
earth. Greens show themselves in subtle shading of rose canes and early
tree buds swelling with new life. The sun is coming earlier and leaving later
in the day; delighting me to find the darkest days of winter behind.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Yesterday was one of those sun-warmed days. The back of my
house is sun-facing for the majority of the day so I was able to throw up open
the windows to let in fresh air. After a long shuttered winter, there is
something invigorating and fresh about opening a house to days feeling of spring.
I could hear neighbors out visiting, smell grills behind fired up, and enjoyed
the giggles and squeals of children playing in their yards – set free to
stretch after their winter confinement. The smell of closed-up house leaves and
fresh air enters with the breeze, sweetening each room.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><i>“This is the message which we have heard from Him and
declare to you, that God is light and in Him is no darkness at all.</i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span><span class="text"><i>If we say that we have fellowship with Him,
and walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth.</i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span><span class="text"><i>But if we walk in the <span style="font-family: inherit;">light as He is in the
light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His
Son cleanses us from all sin.</span></i></span><i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span class="text">If we say that we have no
sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="text">If we confess our sins, He is faithful and
just to forgive us</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="text">our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 John 1:5-9<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text"></span></span></div>
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<span class="text"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sitting at the
table, doing a little research, I could feel the breeze touching my face. As I
appreciated the feel of the fresh air and its cleaning touch, I thought about
how the cleansing of grace offers me the same refreshing. It blows away the
old, stale and stagnant air to replace it with what is pure and clean. The
words in 1 John struck me newly as I opened the windows at home. I choose to
open the windows, but I cannot force the fresh air to enter. It enters as a
gift, a movement of wind which I have no power to control.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="text"></span></div>
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<span class="text">In the same way,
I choose to open the windows of my heart in confession to be instructed by God.
I cannot choose to make mercy or grace enter my heart. It is God’s gift that
they come and cleanse and freshen with their presence. “He is faithful and just
to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” What an
incredible gift, a taste of which arrives in early spring days.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-6526185399553203252016-02-15T10:12:00.001-06:002016-02-15T10:12:05.804-06:00Sent and Made – Giving up the Credit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gbSjHQp9KMw/VsHwg27NslI/AAAAAAAAOoA/SooVi-ltVOM/s1600/ego2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gbSjHQp9KMw/VsHwg27NslI/AAAAAAAAOoA/SooVi-ltVOM/s640/ego2.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="360" /></a></div>
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We are in the midst of the political process that will ramp
up to the presidential election. It is rather remarkable, a process culminating
in a change of leadership with no tanks rolling through the streets nor fear of
an incoming coup. In the midst of this change, it seems we are provided a bevy
of each candidate touting their beliefs and qualifications as loudly and
proficiently as they can. At times, to my ears it becomes a noise of egos and
polls to me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<o:p></o:p>We all have some ego involved in our life; this is the sense
of self-importance and self-respect we need to act with healthy confidence. It impacts
how we decide to treat ourselves and others, to distinguish our identity. A
healthy ego helps us create the needed sense of respect which establishes good
esteem and helps us to pursue wholesome options. An unhealthy ego could show itself
with a range of issues; bottoming out by seeing ourselves as disvalued and
damaged or ratcheting up to a point where the self is more important than
others around them.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Joseph was sent to Egypt as a sold slave, betrayed by his
family and placed through what must have been a terrifying sequence of events.
That would have been an ego blow, confidence and identify would seemingly be
completely devastating. Yet, with every twist and turn of Joseph’s story, when
he had supposed justification to throw his hands up in disgust at the
situations or the opportunity to claim the credit of preserving a people
through a drought, he instead pointed always back to God.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Nearly at the end of Joseph’s story, as the loose ends are
being tied up, Joseph’s ego perspective is clearly displayed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="text"><i><span style="background: white;">“And Joseph said to his brothers, ‘Please
come near to me.’ So they came near. Then he said: ‘I</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white;">am</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i><span style="background: white;">Joseph
your brother, whom you sold into Egypt. But now, do not therefore be grieved or
angry with yourselves because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to
preserve life. For these two years the famine</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white;">has
been</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i><span style="background: white;">in the land, and</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white;">there
are</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i><span style="background: white;">still five years in which</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white;">there
will be </span></i><i><span style="background: white;">neither plowing nor harvesting. And God
sent me before you to preserve a posterity for you in the earth, and to save
your lives by a great deliverance.</span><span id="en-NKJV-1367" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"> So now</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white;">it
was</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i><span style="background: white;">not you</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white;">who</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i><span style="background: white;">sent me here, but God; and He has made me a father to
Pharaoh, and lord of all his house, and a ruler throughout all the land of
Egypt.</span>’”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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</div>
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<span class="text"><i><span style="background: white;">Genesis 45:4-8<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">God
sent, the phrase is said over and over in these words. In just a few strokes of
a pen Joseph displays a maximum amount of confidence along with great humility;
giving God credit for all of the good things and in giving God faith through
all of the bad things. Joseph’s sense of identity and trust, of being able to
focus on using his talents for the good of the people around him did not
falter. That is a healthy ego attitude of credit. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-29528018775859971632016-02-08T22:33:00.002-06:002016-02-08T22:33:58.881-06:00Israel in the Womb<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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</div>
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My quiet time this morning was focused on Genesis 40 and 41.
As I read about the events that lead to what became Israel’s captivity, the
devotional portion referred to this as a sort of a time in the womb of Egyptian
confinement; first as survivors of the famine and then as slaves freed by God.
The premise that this was a time intentionally used to let a nation be grown as a
baby grows in his or her mother’s womb is an intriguing one. I believe that
this was a purposeful time, but I have never thought of it as such a transformative
period.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The concept has stayed with me throughout the day, of how a
nation is formed and launched into the world is probably in some ways
metaphorical to the process of an infant growing and then laboring to be born. However, it was the reference to approximately 400 hundred years of
captivity being that womb, turning the people from an embryonic tribe into a full-fledged
infant nation, this really sunk in <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We have news reports of captivity today, people fleeing
their homes due to bombing raids, dictatorial leadership, waves of refugees on neighboring borders and
extremely unsafe conditions. I would think it would be common, even normal, to
rail against this type of captivity rather than to see it as a time of
purposeful growth. In no ways are the behaviors causing the crisis to occur
acceptable. But, as I listen to the news I wonder what I can do in the face of
such strife to impact a life positively. This becomes a reassurance to me that
God can use the disastrous, the actions that rend nations to their core, to
bring good.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whether your world is safe from civil war or being torn to
its foundation, let this be a reminder that the times of captivity are
used as the growth period before the start of something new and wondrous. <o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-62214624576774347192016-01-31T22:53:00.001-06:002016-01-31T22:53:42.323-06:00Shelter in the Lamp<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EARNKxiCiAg/Vq7iHqDh2pI/AAAAAAAAOQg/uGZp06bcTJs/s1600/lamppost2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EARNKxiCiAg/Vq7iHqDh2pI/AAAAAAAAOQg/uGZp06bcTJs/s400/lamppost2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri Light",sans-serif; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">My eyes
followed a tall white wooden post to the top, where a lamp shines out against
the dark. Inside, tucked between the glass panes and the light bulb sits a tiny
bird. It has found this tucking away place in the midst of winter’s wet cold, a
source of shelter and warmth. Every time I see movement of the little bird
inside the lamp, I smile and think of how we also receive needed shelter in the
midst of cold storms. </span><span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">We all need
places sometimes to gather into when a new wave of snow and ice is lashing at
the door. </span><span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span class="text"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">“You</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">are</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">my
hiding place;</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">You shall preserve me from
trouble;</span></span></span><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">You shall surround me with
songs of deliverance.</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"> </span>“<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">Psalm 32:7<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">There is a sight I pass on my way to
work most mornings of a mother putting her child on the school bus. The sight
itself is not bothersome, it is as natural and as correct as can be. Where I
find the tugging on my heart is that instead of being outside a house or apartment,
these two are bundled against the weather outside of a local shelter. As I
pass, I pray for this family. For stability and economic success, but more
importantly that in this time of difficulty, they will also be tucked into the
sheltering warmth of God’s love. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">We all need a spot to be hidden from
the world as it can be a vast place and quite messy with the needs and perceptions
of people. How I rejoice that in the midst of trouble, we are surrounded with
songs of deliverance. Go, seek out encouragement – it is right there on the
light post.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Calibri Light",sans-serif; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-85704404026073282412015-12-02T07:42:00.001-06:002015-12-02T07:42:22.835-06:00The Gift of Hope<br />
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Christmas is coming! Just like the stockings I will be
hanging and stuffing soon, the days ahead will be full of people, music,
family, long enjoyed recipes and of course beautifully lit Christmas trees.
Amidst all of the wrapping, parties, concerts, carols, card writing and family
visits, this time seems to me to be one that is saturated with hope. Hope, in
the form of a God designed plan, the sound of prophets’ pleas, in steadfast
hearts of many. Hope in the action of God becoming man.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZYwutdUYIvI/Vl7z1y6X1sI/AAAAAAAAMJ4/hlcY5Uzy_64/s1600/babyB%2526W.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="372" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZYwutdUYIvI/Vl7z1y6X1sI/AAAAAAAAMJ4/hlcY5Uzy_64/s640/babyB%2526W.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jesus came in the most unlikely of circumstances; not what
the random observer expected for the </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Creator God and Holy King. He came, fully
God and fully man, in a method that brings hope still today - as a baby. He who
designed our legs to walk and knows every language, chose to come as a baby who
learned to walk and speak by toddling and jabbering. Tiny, dependent, and
utterly precious; he chose to defy our expectations of the extraordinary.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wsdJpbOGfTM/Vl70K8m6e4I/AAAAAAAAMJ8/7uSxAXwcjXk/s1600/IMG_9696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wsdJpbOGfTM/Vl70K8m6e4I/AAAAAAAAMJ8/7uSxAXwcjXk/s640/IMG_9696.JPG" width="425" /></a>Hanging ornaments and singing songs, the memories of family
come flooding back. Ornaments remind me of my own family, a perfect time for considering
again God’s use of the ordinary to create the extraordinary. The cry did not well
up from the streets that the King of Kings had come. It was the arrival of a
baby and the gift of life to give us the most extraordinary thing of all,
giving us grace.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Luke’s excitement over the
details of these events were captured in his letter to Theophilus. He shared the
story of the gift of hope with us. </div>
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<span class="text"><i><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><i><span style="background: white;">“Inasmuch as many have taken in hand to
set in order a narrative of those things which have been fulfilled</span></i></span><span class="text"><i><sup data-fn="#fen-NKJV-24895a" data-link="[<a href="#fen-NKJV-24895a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]" style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white; font-size: 7.5pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></sup><span style="background: white;">among us,</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"></span><i><span style="background: white;"><span id="en-NKJV-24896" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and
ministers of the word delivered them to us,</span><span id="en-NKJV-24897" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"> it seemed
good to me also, having had perfect understanding of all things from the very
first, to write to you an orderly account, most excellent Theophilus, that you
may know the certainty of those things in which you were instructed.</span>”</span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><i><span style="background: white;">Luke 1:1-4</span></i></span><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-56063045040665811012015-10-18T15:16:00.001-05:002015-10-18T15:16:01.987-05:00River of Stories<div class="MsoNormal">
This week has been a time to slow down and listen to the storied
currents swirling around me. Every city, large or small, is a holder of the
collected stories of the people who live there; New Orleans is certainly no
exception. This place, where the dichotomy between poverty and wealth is
clearly seen often places them within a neighborly reach of each other. Yet, the
overriding theme I have heard in a slow southern drawl this week speaks of the
path from tragedy to victory, testifying to God’s goodness along
the way.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast in 2005. The impact was
felt all along the region as water and wind rushed into the area leaving failed
levees, flooded communities, and extreme damage in its wake. People found
themselves in impossible situations, not being able to hear from or contact
family for weeks, and feeling intense relief as they finally heard the voice of a loved one; even while realizing homes and businesses were destroyed. Lives were changed
forever. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-75VEst-HfbY/ViP8H-7Jp3I/AAAAAAAAKOw/dfxBCXh8-wg/s1600/IMG_5492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-75VEst-HfbY/ViP8H-7Jp3I/AAAAAAAAKOw/dfxBCXh8-wg/s640/IMG_5492.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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The stories of the devastation are still fresh in the minds
of people who survived the storm. The losses experienced of people, pets,
homes, businesses, plans and investments are still felt. However, in the midst
of the losses, the continuation of the rebuilding of the city is shown through the hard work of restoration moving ahead with purposeful intensity.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Listeners might expect such stories to end in the loss and frustration found in the face of such a storm. Rather
what is heard is an undeniable hope and resilience in the face of damages.
Stories swirled around, as vital as the waters in the Mississippi River weaving
through the city, pointing over again and again to the overwhelming goodness of
God. Deep, heartfelt thankfulness spoke to those who have embraced the ability
to participate once again in the day-to-day normalcy of life. <o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I loved hearing the stories of people, resilient faith
tested by fire and water, coming out shining and beautiful through the forge of
Katrina.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-36407926690582124442015-10-12T08:29:00.002-05:002015-10-12T08:29:40.771-05:00Marking the River<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A river courses through the land below. Watching it from the
airplane window, I wonder how many times the banks have been reshaped. How many
times has silt pushed together to create new land or been pushed further down
the stream to deepen the path. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Life has changes. Every day is different. I start with my
calendar in place, noting the events, people, places and plans. It syncs up
with my map and with materials gathered to take me through the day in a
productive and orderly fashion. Yet, for all of my planning there can be a
series of changes, small and large that completely move the course of a day
from its expected path.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ecclesiastes three talks about moving of things in our world
happening at the time of God’s choosing. I read the words and the list below, a
time for this change and that change; a time for this bank to be reformed, a
time for that river to be depended. The words at the top though, those are a
reassurance that in drought or flood, the everyday meanderings occur in God’s
timing.</div>
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He is the drawer of the map, the definer of the river bank.
I can rely on him to guide through the changes; letting me sit back and watch
what unfolds. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-62877769363249595382015-09-20T22:50:00.000-05:002015-09-20T22:50:04.966-05:00Fixed in Change<div class="MsoNormal">
The seasons are changing. I can see it in the changes of the
soybean fields from their deep summer green to the almost sunflower yellow that
is shown now. Soon, they will look like so many sticks lined up in the fields.
The corn’s long leaves of green tapered points are drying into their russet
gold. The squirrels seem to be extra busy gathering nuts for the winter,
hauling them across the still summer warmed ground to whatever hiding hole they
might be using. Somewhere north of here, the eagles are preparing their
strength to fly south, marking their seasonal route down the Mississippi that
will celebrate the arrival of winter here. Every evening, the constellation of
Orion is becoming more and more visible in the sky, arriving earlier to admire
as the Big Dipper slips past the horizon sooner.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It seems we all have our opinion on which season is the
best. I love the cool crispness of fall and the beautiful colors it brings. Others
favor the heat of the summer, the new greenness of spring, or the beautiful
snows of winter. Regardless of the favoring of one season over another, they
pass in succession. It does not merely remain fall because that is my favorite;
just like the summer sun will continue to be farther from the earth, the land
will continue to cool into winter. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As I enjoy this particular season, it is a good reminder to
me to seek out the beauty and good in each period of l<span style="font-family: inherit;">ife. There are times of
harvest, where what has been so carefully tended is now being enjoyed. There
are times of want, when things are lean and difficult decisions are required.
There are times when the world is cold. And there are times when you can share
the warmth of love with the people around you, basking in the glow of their
response. So many more seasons than four pass through our lives, more than the
changing of the orbital position of earth. And yet, like the earth, I choose to
remain fixed on my center axis, on the Son of God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every
purpose under the heaven” Ecclesiastes 3:1</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-13484885372994177512015-09-16T21:48:00.004-05:002015-09-16T21:48:39.248-05:00Lesson from a Cowboy<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Visiting an area of unsheltered plains as winter was turning
into spring, I looked out and saw land covered in shades of brown. Only a few bits of
green were there to be seen; made of low-lying scrubby-looking prairie plants which were nutrient rich for any grazing animals that might be passing through. Wind caught the scents of
thawing ground, carrying a fragrance reminiscent of a rich patchouli oil. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The old cowboy got out of his jeep and pointed with a stick
to a small flower. Dainty white blooms with yellow centers reminded me of an orchid, leaves stretched out
along the ground as if they were attempting to gather warmth from earth and sky. “These are what we call Easter
lilies,” he said with a smile. It was one of the first plants to bloom there in
the spring. The arrival of these flowers means that spring has come, soon
the ground will be warmed and return to being a canvas for thriving new growth. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">One of my favorite parts of Luke, as if I can pick a favorite, is where Jesus is encouraging his disciples. Not overlooking their worries, he instead speaks words of comfort. “Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.” Think of these beautiful flowers, starched white blooms with sunshine yellow centers; each is a delicate work of creation. Though they are not found in the flower market, not highly praised in horticultural circles; they are still lovely designs of the Creator. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It is all a matter of perspective. I can choose to see a bare land, whipped by the wind. Or, I can look for the first flowers of the spring, and see delicate creations that thrive in such an environment. We choose to look for beauty from the Creator, just as we choose to trust in His plan and <span style="font-family: inherit;">see the </span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">sovereign</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> touch in the creation of His splendor. </span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BkmITKKi5gQ/VfoiL1MulfI/AAAAAAAAIII/5WsWq3k3hqc/s1600/102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BkmITKKi5gQ/VfoiL1MulfI/AAAAAAAAIII/5WsWq3k3hqc/s640/102.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background: white;">“Consider
how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even
Solomon in all his splendor</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background: white;">was dressed like one of these.</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><i><span style="background: white;"><span id="en-NIV-25488" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">If that is how God clothes the grass of the
field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more
will he clothe you—you of little faith!</span></span><span id="en-NIV-25489" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"> And do not
set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it.</span></span></i></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><i><span style="background: white;"><span id="en-NIV-25490" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">For the pagan world runs after all such
things, and your Father</span></span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">knows that you need them.</span></i></span><i> But seek his kingdom,</i></span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background: white;">and these things will be given to you as well.</span></i></span><i style="font-family: inherit;">”</i></div>
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<span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Luke
12:27-31</span></span></i></span><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-10704756916084547282015-09-07T22:19:00.003-05:002015-09-07T22:19:35.192-05:00In Need of Living Water<div class="MsoNormal">
The weather has been very hot lately; and as someone whose
personal preference is cool weather, I find cold water important to have
around. Sometimes though, even as I keep drinking water, the heat takes its
toll. Chilling in the heat, I know my body needs to rehydrate and cool off. It
can be easy to take clean water for granted where the turn of a handle gives that
in a reliable fashion of varying temperatures. Yet, water is a necessary liquid
for our bodies to function. Found in cells, tissues and organs, water
allows our body to function properly in varying temperatures<span style="background: white; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> and is a
large portion of our physical makeup.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Visiting the Des Moines Botanical Garden, I walked to the
waterfall at one end of the outdoor gardens. The sun was hot, my hands were
hot, there wasn’t a sign saying don’t touch; so my hand went into the
waterfall. I was splashed with droplets and felt the cooling impact where the
moisture landed. Wond<span style="font-family: inherit;">erfully refreshing, it took a measure of self-control to
not just remove my tennis shoes and opt for a stroll through the pool in front
of the falls.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">Water to nourish, to
cool, to bring life to arid places; indeed a liquid necessary for life.
Then, there is this living water referred to in John 4. Living water, a self-replenishing gift, is offered. The liquid that is necessary for our
physical life to continue is found in the well. The living water found in Christ is offered freely, as a gift, drawn from his well spring that never runs dry.
It is not the refreshment from the heat of the day that it offers; but healing
from the burns of the world.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e6gel6FkQY4/Ve5Nb8yw-aI/AAAAAAAAH_U/ZRtNwGqXCRU/s1600/IMG_6438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e6gel6FkQY4/Ve5Nb8yw-aI/AAAAAAAAH_U/ZRtNwGqXCRU/s640/IMG_6438.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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<b><sup><span style="background: white;"> </span></sup></b><span style="background: white;">Jesus answered her,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="woj"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">“If
you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would
have asked him and he would have given you living water.”</span> </span></span>John
4:10<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-61532890722343788652015-09-02T19:11:00.000-05:002015-09-02T19:11:10.646-05:00Riding the Currents<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I have often wondered what it would feel like to be able to
fly without an airplane or extra external gear. To go from standing still to
lifting wings and suddenly I am free to ride the unseen air currents. After the
initial stage of awkwardly trying out these feathered limbs, there would be a
mastery developed to stretch out for lift. Then, think of the heights that are
now available, the new places that are visible. </div>
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Still, there is a certain vulnerability in taking to the
sky. Gentle breezes can turn into twisting rollicking winds; taking sudden
turns, drops and roller-coaster worthy bends. Made to ride the winds, the wings
cannot be completely made of inflexible bone. They have smooth feathers to
reduce their drag. They have wing structures that allow for lift and thrust to
work together; flapping and propelling, gliding and soaring.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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The birds are uniquely made to take to the air. They have
learned to trust their wings and <i>see</i>
the unseen air currents. We are uniquely made to have faith, to <i>see</i> the unseen with confidence. Hebrews
11:1 starts with, “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance
about what we do not see.” Just as the wings work with confidence, faith is a
confident action as well. Not based on paths that are easily seen, but in
assurance about what is not seen. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-6913779896363541862015-08-22T10:23:00.004-05:002015-08-22T10:23:36.283-05:00Just a Sheep V – The Scattered and the Gathered<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I’ve been taking a slow stroll through John 10, pausing
frequently to digest the richness and depth of meaning behind the initial reading.
Told at a moment when the Pharisees were in a flurry of tense and defensive
tempers, I can imagine how they looked with postures of arms crossed and
shoulders hunched in the body language of dissent. Jesus speaks with authority
to them, confronting and teaching, challenging and storytelling; using a
culturally familiar account of a shepherd, a wolf and a flock of sheep.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V5igUU8d5TM/VdiQcpb3cgI/AAAAAAAAH3M/HCWy5d7gNBE/s1600/Eloise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V5igUU8d5TM/VdiQcpb3cgI/AAAAAAAAH3M/HCWy5d7gNBE/s640/Eloise.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Three dogs bound out of the door each morning. One runs to
the bushes, searching with great enthusiasm for a rabbit or squirrel to chase.
Another ambles up the driveway at her own pace looking for butterflies to hop
after. The third waits at the door for her owner to appear, like a permanent
attendance taker who wants her paw held. When all three are running at full
speed, and in opposite trajectories, it can be challenging to capture their
attention and regroup them to move in the same direction again. A slight distraction
appears and off they go, scattered across the yard.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Animals grouped into flocks, herds or schools all have their
own instinctual response to the presence and attack of a predator. In the case
of the sheep in John 10, we are told that the wolf scatters them. If it can
take considerable effort to return three happy dogs to one spot, I would
imagine it would be very difficult to recall many scared sheep running in
terror. Hold that thought for a moment, allow your senses to play a role in
taking in the scene. Imagine the vibration in the earth as hooves hit the ground,
the stinging smell of adrenaline and dust heavy in the air, hearing the low
growl of the wolf and the panicked bleating of the runners. It is a scene of
chaos, where on top of it all, the employee who has been hired to care for the
sheep decides to make a run for it to find a safer job. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P9zvw0mhaVc/VdiQbUenITI/AAAAAAAAH3E/VVFCipvrMFA/s1600/Sierra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P9zvw0mhaVc/VdiQbUenITI/AAAAAAAAH3E/VVFCipvrMFA/s640/Sierra.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The Pharisees are not happy, they have just been compared to
ones who are part of scattering the flock with fear and not protecting them as leaders
are called to do. Middle class businessmen, trying to uphold the strictest
interpretation of the Old Testament laws and traditions; I can understand why
they were perturbed. It is easy to hold onto something that we feel is concrete
and correct, something that is safe and steady to guide ourselves and others
by. However, when we let tradition become law, become an idol in and of itself,
we run a risk of scattering and causing serious wounds. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Standing there insulted, they now hear Jesus telling them
that not only is he known by and knows his sheep, but he will gather them to
Him. The image takes a drastic change. Instead of creatures running in
terror, we are comforted with the true shepherd who does not abandon the sheep
in time of trouble and does not bring about predatory attacks, laying down his
life for the sheep instead. Just like a big smile appears on my face when I
speak to a dear friend whose familiar voice I love to hear, there is comfort for
the gathered sheep in hearing the voice of the shepherd, it is not that of a
stranger.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DRuy6TOCIWg/VdiPFv2JEEI/AAAAAAAAH28/JmDvqht6iiI/s1600/Buddy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DRuy6TOCIWg/VdiPFv2JEEI/AAAAAAAAH28/JmDvqht6iiI/s640/Buddy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Then, Jesus goes one step further. He speaks of more sheep
in a different pen who are going to be gathered to him as well. A different
pen? More sheep? Where are these sheep coming from? What is he talking about?
Can’t you imagine the questions flying through the minds of those listening? They
might have drawn two different assumptions. As this was coming on the heels of
the man who was just ostracized from the synagogue (and now a large part of his
social and spiritual world) due to an act of healing, some might have thought
the reference was to him and others like him. Some may have grasped that this
could have referenced a group other than the Jews, the gathering of the
Gentiles. Thoughts are churning, it is not a comfortable moment to be listening
to these words. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In the hindsight of a vast amount of time I still find the
thought of scattering and gathering very relevant today. We need to consider if
we are part of the scattering or the gathering. Are we so reliant on tr<span style="font-family: inherit;">adition
and social assumptions that we turn out sheep that do not meet our self-imposed
prerequisites and niceties? Do we follow employees who run and look for safer
jobs when the wolf comes around or the shepherd who will defend his sheep? Are
we so caught up in law that we forget the true heart and voice of the law, instead
making up our own imprisoning interpretations as we go? The questions can pinch
any who look at them honestly. But, after taking that long look, I would
encourage us to focus on the ending of this part of John 10, at the second part
of verse 16, “… and there shall be one flock and one shepherd.” The gathering
is happening – exciting times!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white;">"I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd gives
His life for the sheep.</span></span><span id="en-NKJV-26494" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"> But a
hireling,</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span class="woj"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white;">he who is</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white;">not the
shepherd, one who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the
sheep and flees; and the wolf catches the sheep and scatters them.</span> The
hireling flees because he is a hireling and does not care about the sheep.</span>
I am the good shepherd; and I know My<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span class="woj"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white;">sheep, </span></i></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white;">and am
known by My own.</span> As the Father knows Me, even so I know the Father; and
I lay down My life for the sheep.</span> And other sheep I have which are not
of this fold; them also I must bring, and they will hear My voice; and there
will be one flock<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span class="woj"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white;">and</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white;">one
shepherd." ~ </span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">John 10:11-16</span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-25635038513544575772015-08-20T20:51:00.000-05:002015-08-20T20:51:07.935-05:00Just a Sheep IV – The Bridge Isn’t Out<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zLHCFBM-R6I/VdUJlBrjSwI/AAAAAAAAH2I/qeikqrF8Pf0/s1600/IMG_8108%2B%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zLHCFBM-R6I/VdUJlBrjSwI/AAAAAAAAH2I/qeikqrF8Pf0/s400/IMG_8108%2B%25282%2529.JPG" width="265" /></a>Networks of railroad lines cross over the countryside,
moving people and things from one location to another. As planners designed the
original rail lines, they had to take into account the rise and fall of the
land. A path had to be planned over the plains, across rivers, past mountains, and through steep
valleys. Even when starting with the most gentle of grades, eventually a
geographic difficulty would be encountered and they would need to encompass a
new plan. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Imagine crossing a gentle land, then approaching a deep
divide with sheer drops cutting away from the ground ahead. Stone sides seem to go
down forever, plunging with such a severe fall in height that it makes my head
spin. I know that if there is not some alternative measure, this trip ends
right here and now. I also know that I cannot possibly force such a thing from
thin air. I need a bridge that I cannot construct to move safely from one side
to the other. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Now imagine that same location, the same sheer drop. This
time however, a bridge is in place. It is safe, secure, solid and just waiting
to provide a way to move across the decline. I think we can all agree that this
is a good thing. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d-iKgPDhnms/VdUJq7xZx2I/AAAAAAAAH2Q/L-UEQVXyNNs/s1600/trainbridgecolor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d-iKgPDhnms/VdUJq7xZx2I/AAAAAAAAH2Q/L-UEQVXyNNs/s640/trainbridgecolor.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Fourteen words, just fourteen words and yet they create a
bridge. Jesus is the good shepherd, the good bridge. Not a mere structure to
move people from one place to another, but as one who lays down his life for
his sheep. Starting with the first two words, “I am,” I hear an echo of Exodus
three, where God is speaking to Moses. Moses, in a moment of witnessing God’s
glory, listens and hears the words, “I Am Who I Am.” (Exodus 3:14) Notice again
how the phrase starts, “<b><i>I am </i></b>the good shepherd.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am is a shepherd, but not just any shepherd. He is the <b><i>good </i></b>shepherd.
The word, kalos means good; but this is not any ordinary kind of good. This type
of good inspires and motivates others with a noble and pure goodness. This is
the word of one who speaks with authority, who claims his name with no
wondering or worrying. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Again, the words do not end here. The good shepherd is not merely
a presence, but takes action in giving His life for the sheep. It is the
ultimate moment that speaks to the bridge being there, safe and ready; and
Jesus being the bridge. It is the bridge of a shepherd who has chosen to give
His life for His sheep. It ties into the word of Romans 5:8, “But God
demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Chris
died for us.” The good shepherd chose to be the bridge so that we could cross
the divide that we could not cross on our own from death to life. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-48780230362991778792015-08-18T18:58:00.002-05:002015-08-18T18:58:22.359-05:00Just a Sheep III – Life Giver of Abundance<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A heavy rain
just ended. The clouds carrying evaporative moisture experienced cooling and
condensing, turning the vapor into rain. It is as if a cloud were like a towel, too heavy with moisture and it was wrung out. The soil received the rain, it seeped into the dirt and watered the roots of
plants burrowed into the ground. With the rain the world turns
shades of lovely lively greens; and from some of these green organic structures a harvest
can be picked. This season of abundant harvest is shown in the multi-colored
farmer’s market stands, as they hold a literal cornucopia of vegetables and
fruits. From these harvestings, we are physically nourished for daily life. However,
this is no lackluster nourishment. This harvest is rich with color, fragrance,
texture and taste. It is abundant, abundance being a wave, a surge and an overflow. </span>Late in the summer, the harvest is ample. But the life that the shepherd provides is more abundant than any a garden can produce. <span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E6oNlPQPBQg/VdO9BM24dfI/AAAAAAAAH1o/w_od29uYxX0/s1600/IMG_5741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E6oNlPQPBQg/VdO9BM24dfI/AAAAAAAAH1o/w_od29uYxX0/s640/IMG_5741.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Listening to the words of Jesus at the
beginning of John 10, it seems as though he might have received some blank
stares and puzzled looks talking about sheep and shepherding. Picking up the
subject again, Jesus draws a sharp contrast between himself and robbers. While
the shepherd seeks the best for the flock to keep it safe and healthy, the
thief comes only to steal, kill and destroy. No doubt some were pondering
these words and felt their tempers rising, realizing that they – the spiritually
favorable – had just been referred to as thieves. Thieves comes to rob us of
joy, peace, hope, faith and to destroy the relationship with the shepherd.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I love this last contrast in verse ten. Watch
the word I, “<b>I</b> have come.” The Lord
has come, the Lord is come. And, he comes for a purpose! I have come to give
life, a more abundant life. In other words, I am the shepherd and I will take
care of my people. Not in a minimal way to just get them by; rather I will give
of myself so that they have life <b>more
</b>abundantly. This abundance is the kind that is measured, pressed down,
shaken together and running over, (Luke 6:38). This is the abundance we cannot
contain, it simply keeps overflowing from our hands, running down our arms and
seeping into the ground below our feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l1AeTkK8PRs/VdO9ORT6FaI/AAAAAAAAH1w/3AkRcLNcBM0/s1600/IMG_5765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l1AeTkK8PRs/VdO9ORT6FaI/AAAAAAAAH1w/3AkRcLNcBM0/s640/IMG_5765.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text"><i><span style="background: white;">“Then Jesus said to them again,</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"></span></span></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">‘Most assuredly, I say to you, I am the door of the sheep.</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">All who</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white;">ever</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">came before Me</span></i></span><span class="text"><i><sup data-fn="#fen-NKJV-26490a" data-link="[<a href="#fen-NKJV-26490a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]" style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white;"> </span></sup></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">are
thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not hear them.</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">I am the door. If anyone enters by Me, he will be saved, and
will go in and out and find pasture.</span> The thief does not come except to
steal, and to kill, and to destroy. <b>I</b>
have come that they may have life, and that they may have</i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="background: white;">it</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">more
abundantly.</span></i></span><i>’” </i><i>John 10:
7-10</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></i></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In a world of
achieve more, faster, higher and better, I occasionally hear someone speak
honestly of the desire for an abundance that they cannot make. It is an abundance of life, which has nothing to do with earthbound accomplishments.
It is the more of eternity, the more of agape, the more of freedom that comes from reliances on
the shepherd. This is the more that cannot be destroyed or taken. This is the
more of Jesus, the giver of abundant life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri Light, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-9755309990914730982015-08-16T15:42:00.000-05:002015-08-16T15:42:58.804-05:00Just a Sheep II – One Gate<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On a trip to South Dakota, time was spent at the Black Hills
Wild Horse Sanctuary. Beyond being a beautiful ranch where a variety of wild
horses live in a sanctuary environment, this was also once a homestead. If you
ever have the chance to travel that way, I highly recommend making the stop. Make sure to take a moment to look at the remains of a fenced area where a few animals would
have been kept by the settlers. A natural wall of rock stands along a
portion, then a fence structure meets them, with space left for one opening. I
would imagine that this type of arrangement is not unusual in many places
still; using natural resources to make a safe holding area.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It probably didn’t look all that different in ancient Israel
where sheep were gathered for the evening. The gate itself however wasn’t made
of metal or wood, it was the stretched out body of the shepherd; it was here
that the shepherd would rest, keeping the predators out and the sheep in. If
either the former attempted to enter,
or the latter to leave, the shepherd would know as they would have to pass over
his body. <span class="woj"><span style="background: white;">With one
gate, and that being the shepherd, suddenly the impact of the words in John
10:7 carry new weight. </span></span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="woj"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: white;">Then Jesus said
to them again,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">“Most assuredly, I say to you, I am the door of the sheep.</span> John 10:7<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z6ng12iKpFY/VdDt9aIqYCI/AAAAAAAAH0U/SVwWwcCauKs/s1600/clifffence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z6ng12iKpFY/VdDt9aIqYCI/AAAAAAAAH0U/SVwWwcCauKs/s640/clifffence.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="woj"><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I imagine a sheep, suffering from a bout of insomnia and after not
overcoming it by counting everyone else standing around in the pasture, decides
an evening stroll would be just the thing to do. Moving over to the gate, the
sheep sees the shepherd and not wanting to disturb him (or get caught), tries
to quietly and stealthily step over the shepherd and out into the area of supposed freedom. No matter how the sheep tries, the shepherd is
aware of its presence and moves to intercept. Finally, the sheep is discouraged
and gives up, returning to the flock muttering the whole way there. “Always has
to be in charge, never lets me do what I want. I just wanted a little walk!”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="woj"><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="woj"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: white;"></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="woj"><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Suddenly, there are chaotic sounds and motions coming from the
gate as the shepherd rises to block a wolf from entering to prey on the sheep.
Where the wooly headed creature had just been grumbling, it is now tucked in
with the others and loudly singing the praises of the shepherd. “I didn’t know
there was a wolf out there! He is such a good protector, always looking out for
us.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="woj"><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="woj"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: white;"></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="woj"><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve been that kind of a sheep before. I get a little bored and
see something beyond the boundaries of where I have been told to stay and am
inclined to wander. It is as if there is something on the other side of the
fence being dangled to grab my attention. I fidget my way over, knowing the
entire while I’m not supposed to wander off. Then, I get annoyed when told
again to stay where it is safe. Haven’t you ever rationalized it in your mind?
If I can just do this small thing, then I will come back into the fold where
the rest of the sheep are. Or sometimes I get turned around, my phone battery
must be dead – thus no GPS, and I can go wandering out in what I think is the
right direction. However, it really is leading me to places of dangerous drops
and thorns. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="woj"><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="woj"><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yet, the gate itself is the shepherd. And to enter or exit, I
would have to pass over his body. It reminds me of how Jesus stretched out on a
cross, allowing himself to pay for my sins, your sins. As the ultimate gate, he
opened the way to eternal life, showed his love and continues to do so. One little
verse in John and I am held awestruck with its meaning. </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Calibri Light",sans-serif; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-52007534198384238322015-08-14T22:31:00.001-05:002015-08-14T22:31:43.662-05:00Just a Sheep I – Selective Listening <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I stood on a small ridge, looking over a shallow gully where
a herd of sheep was staring back at me. Sharing the same pasture, I had hoped
for some sort of friendly sheep connection leading to me getting to pet them. They
stared at me, I talked to them. They watched me and I tried to think of a sheep
song I could sing to convince them to overlook my being a stranger. I tried to
convince them that they really were very nice sheep that would like to have
their heads rubbed. The glares I received in return stated clearly that I was
not winning these sheep over. They didn’t know me, nor did they have any inclination
to get to know me. My voice was not recognized.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As much as I would have liked to pet at least one of those
wooly headed creatures, I understand their reluctance. This caution for any
unknown was part of how they defended themselves. They were listening for a
familiar voice, the voice of their shepherd. My voice was that of a stranger,
and did not appeal to their sense of security. However, if the shepherd were
present, things might be greatly different. The voice of the shepherd is the voice
of protection, good pasture, care and adequate shelter. Knowing the voice and
trusting it, the sheep will follow the shepherd from place to place.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">As
Christ is my shepherd, I need to rely on his voice. As a shepherd, he provides
me with truth, grace, love, nourishment, protection and refreshment. This means
I need know the voice I am listening for, and that I actually need to be
listening. It is so easy to be distracted by other voices, I know it doesn’t
take much sometimes for me to lose that focus. The background noises crank up
the volume and I forget to listen, wandering off on my own. Pretty soon I am
stuck. I may not be entirely certain how I got there and will need some
assistance to get out. Standing there, stuck, I am forced to wait and listen,
hoping to hear the familiar voice of my shepherd coming to assist. What a sweet
sound that is, especially because I am not great at waiting for rescue - I get squirmy and impatient.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Towards
the end of Tuesday on this very busy week, a few of us agreed that surely it
should be Thursday. Can we just make the next day Friday by group decision? I
was tired, feeling the pressure I place on myself as I watch the list of projects I want to participate in grow. Wednesday came, the group vote for Friday was overruled by calendar
makers, and again the day primarily passed in a blur of rushing. Where in the
midst of the hectic movement around me was the shepherd’s voice? It was hard to
listen – let alone hear in all of that commotion. I felt stuck in the pace of
the moments, and was waiting impatiently, hoping to be hearing my shepherd’s
voice once again to calm my heart and mind against the ticking of the clock.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sitting at a picnic table that evening at a Bible study and
fellowship time, I felt my spirit being refreshed even as my eyes grew increasingly
tired. In the midst of this great conversation, a young man with his hand
behind his back left the road, came down the hill, took the steps and crossed
the pavilion. Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect to see when the hand returned
to his front. What I did not anticipate seeing was a beautiful yellow rose,
tinged in coral. My favorite of rose colors is this, the one that looks like a
sunset was shaped into a flower and smells like all the sweetness of summer. I
looked into the face of a young man and his big grin. I couldn’t
help but smile in return. “This is for you,” is all the rose giver said.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xwYIwUX3YvY/Vc6u32RC33I/AAAAAAAAHuk/5MF0q8_dQKM/s1600/rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xwYIwUX3YvY/Vc6u32RC33I/AAAAAAAAHuk/5MF0q8_dQKM/s640/rose.jpg" width="418" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve never seen this fellow before, nor do I expect to meet
him in the future. The interaction lasted for a moment and contained less than
a dozen words between us. But that moment will stay with me for some time. I
was tired, feeling caught up in the background noise and wondering exactly how
I was going to fit the rest of my week into the actual span of a week. Then, in
an unexpected way, the voice of my shepherd burst through the noise with a
friendly smile and a beautiful rose. It was an encouragement, a refocusing of
listening for my distracted thinking. And in the moment, through the actions of
a stranger, I listened to the familiar voice of my shepherd. He whispered to me
through a sunset colored rose, caught my attention with the fresh fragrance,
and told me that he was with me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">“Most
assuredly, I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door, but
climbs up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber.</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span><span id="en-NKJV-26484" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">B</span></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">ut he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep.</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"></span><i><span style="background: white;"><span id="en-NKJV-26485" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">To him the doorkeeper opens, and the sheep
hear his voice; and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. And when
he brings out his own sheep, he goes before them; and the sheep follow him, for
they know his voice.</span></span></i><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">Yet they will by no means follow a stranger, but
will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers.” </span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">John 10:1-5</span></i></span></span></div>
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<span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-75133163471699695342015-08-13T21:31:00.000-05:002015-08-13T21:31:51.928-05:00Big People Music & Little People Music<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Leading worship is a big
responsibility and a great joy. Leading worship while teaching children in this
charge is an even greater responsibility and a greater joy; purposefully instructing
and building future leaders. In a recent experience, one child joined us at rehearsal
and heard the adults talking about the need to incorporate the children’s songs
from Sunday School. Hearing the discussion, the child quickly spoke up about being
able to sing “the big people music.” I loved that spur of the moment response;
a beautiful, open hearted and intuitive answer that is worshipful in and of itself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The thing about leading
worship is that it is not really about whose music (i.e. big and little) is
being sung or played. It is an act of sacrificial joy noted for leading ministry,
armies and nations. These are the players of cymbals, harps and trumpets, amongst
other instruments, specifically mentioned in the Bible. The singers conducted services
of song and ministered with music, some even having their names added to the
text. Yet, I think even with these details, it is important to note that there
is not one word about style, personal preference or music wars. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="text">
</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Worship is done to honor
God. It is not about what music I like, don’t like, prefer and don’t prefer. It
is not about my mood, my circumstances or my particular activities on a given
day. I may have to move past morning sleepiness, arrangements I love or don’t
particularly care for, the need for many rehearsals, growing skill sets as we
all seek to improve and technical difficulties. When I step up with a team to
lead worship on any given day, you could see me after a morning of smooth
sailing or it may be everything I can do to keep it together while on stage.
The gist of this, is that worship is not about me or you. And that, that was
what was contained in those words, “I can sing the big people music.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span class="text"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“…when the trumpeters and singers</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">were</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;">as
<b>one</b>, to make <b>one</b> sound to be heard in praising and thanking the</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"></span></span></i></span><span class="small-caps"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></i></span><span class="text"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;">,
and when they lifted up their voice with the trumpets and cymbals and
instruments of music, and praised the</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"></span></span></i></span><span class="small-caps"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></i></span><span class="text"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;">,</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">saying:</span></i></span><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="line" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background: white; box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="text"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">‘For He is</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></i></span><span class="text"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;">good,</span></i></span></span><i><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
<span class="text"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">For
His mercy</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="text">endures</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="text">forever,’”</span> <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span class="text">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">2 Chronicles 5:13a<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The
end of the week approaches. People will be practicing for Sunday, preparing
music once again. As we prepare our own hearts to worship, on Sunday and each
day, I want to encourage you to reach out past the moment and circumstances, to
worship the Lord because you love him. Maybe you can even learn the “little
people’s” Sunday School music.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-63770744181347239722015-08-10T21:15:00.001-05:002015-08-10T21:15:45.348-05:00Blueberry Muffin Bread <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri Light",sans-serif; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I love the
smell of summer fruits and vegetables in the kitchen. Ten pounds of blueberries sat in the
kitchen sink, washed and ready to be frozen. Little packets of goodness will be pulled out later in the winter, and fresh berries will waft the sun warmed smells back into the house.
While most of the berries went into the freezer, some stayed out to make fresh
blueberry muffin bread.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cy0q5aHnlXs/VclTQVGyhAI/AAAAAAAAHpw/lP6tZKtg1Co/s1600/eggs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cy0q5aHnlXs/VclTQVGyhAI/AAAAAAAAHpw/lP6tZKtg1Co/s640/eggs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">As the oven is preheating to 350 degree Fahrenheit, pull the butter out of the refrigerator and let it start warming. In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar. Add to this mixture the liquid ingredients of milk, vanilla and eggs. Mix in the remaining ingredients of baking powder, salt and flour.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri Light",sans-serif; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vJ4iltKxDoM/VclTTkvRU1I/AAAAAAAAHqA/2LigyPLwg9E/s1600/mixing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vJ4iltKxDoM/VclTTkvRU1I/AAAAAAAAHqA/2LigyPLwg9E/s640/mixing.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">Once everything is thoroughly incorporated, slowly add in the blueberries; taking care to gently fold them into the batter. Lightly grease a nine inch round pie plate and pour in the mixture.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AjxckEcmiTU/VclTPlvLj_I/AAAAAAAAHps/b2NB6cFt5Ig/s1600/blueberrybags.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AjxckEcmiTU/VclTPlvLj_I/AAAAAAAAHps/b2NB6cFt5Ig/s640/blueberrybags.jpg" width="426" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;"><b></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></b></div>
<b>Ingredients:</b><o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">1 c. butter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">1 c. sugar<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">2 eggs<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">1 ½ t. vanilla<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">2 t. baking powder<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">1 t. salt<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">2 c. flour<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">½ c. milk<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">2 ½ c. blueberries </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Calibri Light', sans-serif;">Let the
bread cook until it turns a golden brown. Pour the coffee, set out the plates,
serve up the bread and enjoy.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F7wgdbfAYlw/VclTXG9ZzGI/AAAAAAAAHqI/DBpx11ua77k/s1600/muffin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F7wgdbfAYlw/VclTXG9ZzGI/AAAAAAAAHqI/DBpx11ua77k/s640/muffin.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri Light",sans-serif; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Sharing food from the kitchen has
always been my mom’s gift. Someone comes to the house and eventually there is an
offer of food. It is a skill I have learned, using food to share friendship and
caring. Over the years, my collection of trusted recipes that will be served
friends has grown, and each bring back memories of special visits. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri Light",sans-serif; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">There is simply nothing quite as warming
as sitting down with a fresh baked food, a cup of coffee, and time with a
friend.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gW39a2YJeOc/VclTQZir2FI/AAAAAAAAHp8/lpfR9ZhAzww/s1600/blueberries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gW39a2YJeOc/VclTQZir2FI/AAAAAAAAHp8/lpfR9ZhAzww/s640/blueberries.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-10524011442894697722015-08-09T14:47:00.003-05:002015-08-09T14:47:59.525-05:00The Voice in Fragile Silence<div class="MsoNormal">
Pairing my favorite writing music, Chopin, with the sound of the summer rain, I made my way to the
front porch this morning. Picking up my pen, journal, coffee and Bible along the way, I sat
quietly waiting for actual words to translate from thought to ink on the page. As the dogs played in the rain (or avoided it all together), the words came in waves like the sprinkle to deluge coming from the sky. Today, this is my time of quiet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s hard to be quiet, not meaning the absence of sound, but
the stilling of my mind and heart. I choose to put aside my things to-do,
things to think through and things to plan out. Distractions are numerous, roosting
in the tree in front of me and singing a siren song of urgency, people,
prayers, must-dos, needs, when am I going to-dos, whys, how comes, contingency
plans and don’t forgets. Each feathered member of the flock is chirping in
my mental ear, saying pay attention to me because I’m important. And, they are –
but in the scale of priorities, this must rank higher.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This time is when I consciously choose to seek the gentle
whisper of a voice in a fragile silence that is easy to miss. My spirit craves
this time, my heart is strengthened by its power. Why? What happens? As I sit
here, it would appear to be a time that is nothing more miraculous than the
goodness of another day. But, it is when I am quiet in mind and heart I can
hear God’s voice best. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8z2qn4h5uWI/VcehodTVXtI/AAAAAAAAHoc/gCHXVGJxecA/s1600/fragilequiet1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8z2qn4h5uWI/VcehodTVXtI/AAAAAAAAHoc/gCHXVGJxecA/s640/fragilequiet1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Though not an audible voice, he makes himself heard nonetheless.
Like sitting in companionable silence with a friend, this is a comfortable
place to be this morning. I can trust the words my friend, my God, says. He
waits and encourages me to listen, an act of love. This is where I am stretched
and challenged to be more like Christ. This is where I can run when the journey
is too much for my strength. This is where I can turn when I am broken over the
cry of my heart. This is my place of navigational refocus when I am stymied on
which path to take, especially when there are many great options available. This is where I am redirected when I have made poor choices. This is my greatest place of praise, celebrating those abundant everyday miracles. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And the response of that gentle whisper, many times it feels
like the answer Elijah hears, “What are you doing here,” from 1 Kings 19:9b. Different emphasis can be placed on distinct words in that question and subtly
change the meaning. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> <b>What</b> are you doing here?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> What
<b>are</b> you doing here?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> What are <b>you </b>doing here?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> What are you <b>doing</b> here?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> What are you doing<b> here</b>?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I find my
responses to this question come in the same starts and stops as the writing
does, as I pause to think through each phrase. Praise, friendship,
connectedness, supplication, restoration, protection, hope, the need to hear
that voice – The Voice, that is my motivation. That is why I am here.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I say the silence is fragile because it can be easily broken.
It demands a discipline and desire from me to actively step away from my calendared,
socially connected world of IMs, emails, texts, posts and messages to focus
elsewhere. It is time for me to listen and hear from the most important messenger,
to hear from God.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-82520646389689521542015-08-06T21:59:00.002-05:002015-08-06T21:59:58.459-05:00Missing Blessings <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_6IYGtsnZjk/VcQdWiyF-NI/AAAAAAAAHmo/FLXaFvsoJRY/s1600/IMG_0085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_6IYGtsnZjk/VcQdWiyF-NI/AAAAAAAAHmo/FLXaFvsoJRY/s400/IMG_0085.JPG" width="265" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This morning quickly went from my normal get ready for work
routine to something unplanned as turning the key to start the car resulted in
nothing but silence. I tried again and there was not a click or sputter.
Thankfully, there was another vehicle available and the silent car was left
behind as I headed to work. When the key turned and the engine didn’t, I had an
opportunity to choose my response. I could either let this moment completely
throw off my entire day, or I could take a breath and regroup. I can honestly
say that I have responded well to these unexpected moments at times, and not so
well during others. However, this morning as dogs were barking and I was
scrambling for a different set of keys before heading out the door again, a
friend’s words came back to me about gratitude for blessings that are often
missed during each day, those that we are completely unaware of. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That thought has lingered with me all day. What blessings am
I missing? What am I oblivious too and taking for granted? My world is alive
with the nature around me, bright flowers greet the day as I walk down the
block; intricate forms that seemed to have caught sunshine’s light. From the darkness
of the day after the sun slips around the curve of the earth until the orbital
trek is made again, the sky is steeped in beautiful light of the greater and
lesser. I have food to eat that is both nutritious and tasty. The house is a
sturdy shelter, warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Three beautiful,
though noisy, dogs greet my every arrival with great excitement that leaves me
smiling in return. Friends near and far offer hands of help and let me help in
return. They are all blessings.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But these, though I can certainly take them for granted at
times, these seem too obvious. I think I miss the blessings that are more of
the kind that hold the next breath, the next heartbeat. I’m aware of them, but
don’t spend much time thinking of them, let alone praising God for them. I
think I miss the blessings for the events I don’t understand or when things don’t
turn out as planned. When my path is turned in a direction I didn’t anticipate
and cannot predict, I think there may very well be a missed blessing there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I hear tomorrow about the car and the repairs, I will endeavor
to continue to both seek to see the missing blessings and to praise God for and through them. <o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-59991279491136548632015-08-05T21:47:00.001-05:002015-08-05T21:47:49.642-05:00The Power of a Smell<div class="MsoNormal">
Yesterday evening, walking at the park, I reached to touch a
new pinecone. Thick sap clung to my fingers and I held them to my nose to enjoy
the fresh smell. It is the smell of a memory, of walking in woods where the
sound of footfalls are dampened from layers of pine needles, and every step
disturbs the pollen and brings the woody scent closer to me. I can hear the
lake’s waves touching the shoreline with a steady rhythm, the driftwood caught on
a shallow point hitting the rocks with a hollow echo. On the other side of the
water, mountains rise, skirted in green at their feet and covered in snowy caps.
Strains of “How Great Thou Art” still float above the water as the last note
ends.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3uBqorxqoSo/VcLHsNP76nI/AAAAAAAAHks/zfQVFsR7_hE/s1600/IMG_0297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3uBqorxqoSo/VcLHsNP76nI/AAAAAAAAHks/zfQVFsR7_hE/s640/IMG_0297.JPG" width="426" /></a>The smell of fresh pine makes me think of snowy morning moments at home. Wood smoke stings my nose as I build a fire in the potbellied
stove, as the pine and kindling woods catching fire mingles with the
aroma of fresh yeast bread rising in a sunny window. The coffee pot is waiting
to refill my cup and a pot of soup bubbles on the stove for later in the day; both
adding moisture rich aromas to the house. Outside in the snow, every breath drawn in feels
somehow fresher; and when the pine tree smell drifts my way, it feels like
Christmas.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On a summer trip, campground spaces in a deep pine wood are
shared with friends. I remember laughing until I cried and then laughing some
more. Pancakes were cooked on an outside griddle as we stood around and just
enjoyed being together. Prayer, songs, more laughter, and soon we were clinking
forks onto plates with sweet syrup and fluffy pancakes. The pine woods held
little birds that sang above our heads and crows that floated through announcing
their passing-by with much volume and fanfare.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It always amazes me how a single smell can cause biological
triggers, bringing back rushes of memory in a moment. I traipse down
sentimental neurological paths that have been cobwebbed since last visited,
dust them off and look for the pine trees. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-82639165168224709322015-07-31T22:31:00.002-05:002015-07-31T22:31:09.440-05:00Tether<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My five point harness had me locked into a Manned Maneuvering
Unit (MMU) training chair. This piece of equipment is used by astronauts to
train for work in a microgravity environment. I was excited to be part of this
simulation, preparing to “fix” a broken part of the external components of the
International Space Station (ISS) as a team member on a mock spacewalk. In a
space simulation, I quickly learn that unwieldy space suits and simulated microgravity
environment exercises can make me go swishing across the polished floor.
Laughing, I felt myself going backwards until at 25 feet out, my safety tether snapped taught. My momentum was changed as I started to slowly
move forward again towards the black and white structure. Still smiling, my
hands and feet braced to gently catch myself coming back to the station wall. The
tether, made of strong woven fibers and thick metal buckles, has to be able to
withstand the simulated great temperature variances found in space, resist abrasions
and still maintain flexibility. It didn’t take long to discover that more than
a gentle movement would send me inadvertently moving away from the mock-up
station; and be grateful for the safety tethers that keep me from careening off
across the floor. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RpAZTkoq38M/Vbw6iqg3JJI/AAAAAAAAHdg/OEl9UuEJ4f4/s1600/bluemoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="536" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RpAZTkoq38M/Vbw6iqg3JJI/AAAAAAAAHdg/OEl9UuEJ4f4/s640/bluemoon.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
A book titled <i>The
Untethered Soul</i> caught my attention the other day. Let me put in my aside
here, I have not read the book - it could be good, my reaction is purely to
the title. An untethered soul, and all I could think of was simulations of
fixing a mock-up of the ISS. My response to the title was thankfulness for the
tethers in my life. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sitting for a few quiet minutes today, I thought of who and
what makes up my safety tether. Some of the fibers are short and others of inestimable
yardage are woven in throughout. Buckles, forged from unbreakable love of Jesus
are ones that do not fail. The webbed lengths are strong in family, friends, love,
retain joy in abundance and resist abrasions with compassion. These cordage
systems keep us from drifting away into space. They are our life lines that
pull us back, reversing the backward momentum. And we in turn serve the same purpose for others.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>At least until it’s time to take your MMU for a little spin,
and go drifting slowly across the floor for the fun of it. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-26942782998028799082015-07-29T07:37:00.000-05:002015-07-29T07:37:00.306-05:00A Sparrow Falls <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
A small brown sparrow lay near the edge of the sidewalk, much too
still. I thought of how a sparrow cannot fall to the ground apart from God’s
will. As my feet continued down the sidewalk, my thoughts took two different
paths as the complimentary roles of pragmatist and dreamer played thoughts
through my head.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wn-c-WqzAeU/VbjGlbMAW1I/AAAAAAAAHaE/KA3GrHOJOxk/s1600/labrynith1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wn-c-WqzAeU/VbjGlbMAW1I/AAAAAAAAHaE/KA3GrHOJOxk/s640/labrynith1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eOTPPgI_yFM/VbjGadXOJKI/AAAAAAAAHZ8/W1LsnFs2fRE/s1600/labrynith2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eOTPPgI_yFM/VbjGadXOJKI/AAAAAAAAHZ8/W1LsnFs2fRE/s400/labrynith2.jpg" width="225" /></a>The pragmatist, my practical side, thought of an acquaintance once
asking, “If God is so good, and knows about that little sparrow, then why let it
die?” Thankfully, God is large enough for all of our questions. The answer is
one I have muddled through at times, when confronted with the “whys” in life,
especially when taking my own limited viewpoint into consideration. Why God did
you let this tragedy occur? God, why didn’t you take care of this need <i>the way I thought it should be taken care of</i>?
Why God have you not answered <i>on my
timeline</i>? And, while we are on the subject God, why did you answer that
other prayer <i>in that manner</i>? Like the
curious child, I can catch a case of the incurable whys. My desire is for real
answers – not a stuffy, “because I said so,” or interminable silence where my impatience
causes me unfruitful exercise in jumping to incorrect conclusions. I want to understand and the question
is worth consideration. I think it is in the searching itself that my mind and
heart are forced to stretch; as if thought were a stiff muscle yielding to new directions
and allowing me to consider my presupposed answers differently.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
God allows tragedy and discord on earth, but does so with a complete
picture in place, and a purpose that cannot be overridden by our life
happenings. It is the sovereignty of God that I must first point to, and my
assurance that his plan will not fail. Let me reiterate that as the ultimate
authority, God is in complete control, with an understanding and perspective that
is complete and whole; very different from my own. My choice in the matter is
whether I will trust, if I will rest, in God’s sovereignty. Although I have
already made the lifetime decision to trust in God as my Savior, there are many
moments when a life turns a path in a direction I have not expected and I renew
my decision to trust my Father to guide me along the correct path. It is with this
restful trust I can hope, that I can keep faith, trust rooted in the solidity
of love. “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulations, or
distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?” This is
not a trust made of tissue paper, easily torn and crumpled; but one of strength
which breaks down walls, redesigns lives, and builds beautiful new creations. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lPtlYjVw3wE/VbjGYSf2E7I/AAAAAAAAHZ0/vZknKvjaFBQ/s1600/labrynith3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lPtlYjVw3wE/VbjGYSf2E7I/AAAAAAAAHZ0/vZknKvjaFBQ/s640/labrynith3.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
Of course, I must let the dreamer have a voice as well. It is what
allows me to see the potentials, the possibilities and beautifully abstract
ideas. My thoughts took a completely different path along this route, thinking of
the sparrow as a metaphor. A little bird, small and in the amazing world of
feathered cr<span style="font-family: inherit;">eatures, rather unremarkably colored. They eat seeds and insects, living
amongst flocks of like creatures and chattering away in cloud of song. How many
little sparrows are in my world that can rise or fall on a given day? Little
things make up much larger parts of my life, like bricks paving a walk. Remove a
brick and the absence is noticed briefly; remove many and the absence is felt. Knowing
God is aware of the feathered flying sparrows in life reminds me that he is
also aware of my own sparrows. It is not a far away and distant stranger to
whom I pray, but a friend who walks along with me.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Little sparrows in my life are often the things
I find myself wanting to hang my mood on. If I feel I have been productive, receive
an unexpected compliment or criticism, watch my plans go slightly awry or be improved;
these are just a few of my sparrows. It’s when the car won’t start, windows
need to be washed, too many good things force prioritizing of time, and a
stranger brightens my day; those are all little sparrows. I remind myself that
the car repair is cheaper than the car payment, I’m grateful to have windows
and ways to clean them, what a blessing it is to have so many good things that prioritizing is necessary, and try to pass along
that stranger’s </span></span>brightness to someone else. These are all sparrows for me. Small
happenings, but regardless are known by my Father. Just as nothing is too large
to be taken to God, nothing is too small as well.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">“Whatever I tell you in the dark, speak in
the light; and what you hear in the ear, preach on the housetops.</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">And
do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. But rather fear
Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">Are
not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the
ground apart from your Father’s will.</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">But
the very hairs of your head are all numbered.</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background: white;"> </span></i></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">Do
not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white;">Matthew 10:27-31<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-77310357555630900972015-07-22T22:55:00.001-05:002015-07-22T22:55:47.369-05:00Courageous Gifts of Roots<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rli5yO3kTBI/VbBeXfBaxHI/AAAAAAAAHPo/w9hrhoI1HDk/s1600/greentrees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rli5yO3kTBI/VbBeXfBaxHI/AAAAAAAAHPo/w9hrhoI1HDk/s400/greentrees.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
About four hundred years ago, a family left Wales for a
newly founded Penn’s Colony. With a few older boys in tow, and one who made his
appearance when crossing the Atlantic (aptly named Seaborn), they made the
voyage successfully. Settling into the colony, the family became established in
their community. Time passed, generations branched out and moved southwest into
Kentucky. Deep into timbered hills, where shadows rest late in the morning and pull
along evening’s approach early, families were established. Gardens were
planted, homes were built and a few lone settlers became communities. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On a recent trip I was reminded
of the gift of roots. It took courage to leave a home in Wales and travel
across an ocean; to later say goodbye to the established colony and settle the
frontier of the Appalachian hills. Generations continued, learning to lean on
each other as they formed their own families, taking root and becoming communities.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I watched and listened as family surrounded me last week.
Each unique in their gifts, each very special. This beautiful hilled place will
be forever my family home, a holder of stories and songs that rise in the
memory like the morning mist. Each generation has the opportunity to be a
builder for the next, to give them another strong layer upon which to place
their own structure. I also am part of the branching out, and in so doing found
a new home. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836930761997334217.post-52881585839861336882015-07-20T08:40:00.002-05:002015-07-20T08:41:19.369-05:00Scanning the Skies for a Covenant<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Recent flash flooding has devastated portions of Eastern Kentucky.
People have been left without homes, mourning tragic deaths, celebrating
heroes, scrambling to meet needs and raising their eyes to scan the sky and river banks with every
new thundercloud breaking into rain. When out driving, it is easy to find
evidence of mud slides and a few sharply curved corners where the road has
crumbled. After another gully washer two evenings ago, I watched impromptu
waterfalls form to race down cliff faces. Those who have been impacted, either
directly or through concern for loved ones, experience apprehension with each
new rain storm.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Just two nights ago, sitting back on a deep porch and relaxing in a
rocking chair, I watched one more storm break across the sky before going to
bed. I admired the beauty of the lightning and watched the reflection of the porch
lights in the light rain. Though for me that summer thunderstorm was quite
enjoyable and relaxing; I could not help but think of those not very far away who
must be looking at this storm with trepidation. <o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C684RZxFThI/Vaxaz0Q2V8I/AAAAAAAAHHc/mMYADQD_mDA/s1600/rainbow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C684RZxFThI/Vaxaz0Q2V8I/AAAAAAAAHHc/mMYADQD_mDA/s640/rainbow.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
The storm wasn’t the only thing in the sky that day to catch my
attention; a rainbow had appeared as well. With subtle color, it was nearly
lost to view after being disrupted by a cloud. Subtle or no, it reminded me of
the covenant that it shows us. A covenant, a promise or commitment, is shown in
that and every rainbow. This promise was made when the earth was very young and
recovering from a terrible flood. Genesis 9 tells us that the rainbow was
provided as a “sign of the covenant between (God) and the earth.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
We all have storms and floods that occur in our lives. Sometimes we can
sit on the porch, enjoying rain cooled air and the lightning show. There are
other times when we are buffeted about and swept down in the currents of the floods.
But in each, I keep my eyes open to look for the covenant of hope, seen in a
beautiful but quiet display of dispersed light across the sky. I love seeing
God’s promises, quiet and beautiful, made for us to take notice and
comfort. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>“And God said, ‘This is the sign
of the covenant I am making between me and you and every living creature
with you, a covenant for all generations to come: I have set my rainbow in
the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. Whenever
I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I
will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of
every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life. Whenever
the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the
everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on
the earth.’” Genesis 9:12-16<o:p></o:p></i></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13410370021266294805noreply@blogger.com0