Moments

  Oftentimes, I just need to talk or share with you, God.   So I write to you now for a multitude of reasons, all of which you know already. And the fact that  you know already and see right through me is one of the reasons I write to you:   I will have to be honest.    You won’t be fooled by lame excuses and half-truths about me. First, I want to thank you. There are so many things to be grateful for—so many. I’m especially thankful that you’ve softened my heart to the suffering of others. It wasn’t always this way, and we both know I wouldn’t be who I am without your work in me. I praise you for that and for finding me worthy of this change.  In this world, there seems to be a vast sea of hearts untouched by the warmth of your love. As I feel the chill around me, I realize the power of just one heart warmed by you—changed now and forever. You’ve given me the only value I have. Still, I know I have many rough edges. I’m not yet where I want or need ...

  The man stops at the top of the stairs every morning after waking, holds on to the rails, and lifts his head in a prayer of gratitude.   He can smell the coffee brewing, or maybe too, some pre-breakfast snack to go with the coffee.  He embraces the day by going outside on the porch, where he pets his cats, who eagerly await his attention.  He breathes deeply, taking in the sounds and smells of the field and woods, and the fog gently rising from the earth. One more day;  thank you, Lord, for this day and all you have in it for me.  If it be my last, so be it.  I will be with you. Come, Holy Spirit, and pervade my thoughts and direct my paths the way I should go. The short prayer, followed by coffee and a closeness, and a certain gratitude.  Closer to Jesus already.  It's going to be a great day, says the man. He's right. Praise God. Amen.

  Easter morning thought -  in the song "I've Just Seen Jesus," by the Gaithers the setting is the empty tomb and Mary crying about the Lord being gone.  And she supposed the man outside the tomb to be the gardener who asked why she was crying. The song goes, "As I sobbed in despair, my Lord is not there.  He said Child, it is I.  I am here . I've just seen Jesus, I know that He's alive---." How many times have we, have I sobbed in despair in a sense at all the heartaches and disappointments life can inflict upon us?  How many of these times have I "sobbed in despair," not realizing the antidote to despair and that the  Giver of hope was standing right before me?   How precious are those times when I finally saw Jesus for who He truly is and realizing, "Child, it is I.  I am here?" What a comfort. The tomb is empty: "Death has lost and life has won." Jesus is very near.  Praise God for Easter Morning.

  Life is slippery sometimes, and sometimes, the comfortable, safe, and easy things grease the hands to such an extent that real life  can become hard to hold on to. It slips away moment by moment, attending to maintaining the status quo of an easy life. It becomes a continuing personal, physical, and even spiritual degradation process. Instead of honing skills toward peace, performance, and personal improvement at some risk, we became proficient at quickly making excuses. Self-deception and denial can become our sport and greatest skill.   Small aches become perceived as big pains and small issues can take on the appearance of major problems.   We try to give it a value it doesn't have. But self-deception never really works. Deep down, in quiet moments, we know the truth. We just can't confront it directly. It is just too hurtful to our comfortable little lives built on illusion.  We are scared.  So, I guess I want to be fearless.  The Bible...