an offering
April 27th, 2024
Lord, in obscurity and in popularity, help me remain completely fixed on you. When there happens to be praise from others, help me, as Carole C. Carlson said of Corrie Ten Boom: “Take each compliment as a flower, and then gather them all in a bouquet and give them back to Jesus saying, “Here Lord, they belong to you.””
Excerpt from Alicia Britt Chole in 40 Days of Decrease: “Attention is not innately evil. It becomes evil when used as a self-serving end instead of a God-serving means. Those who steward attention as means and not end stand tall and serve strong, knowing that all gifts come from God and can therefore draw attention to God. Praise slides off such souls like water off a window into a cup that is offered to God alone. Surrounded by swelling crowds, John directed his fans to Jesus.”
Lord, help me remain pure in heart, always fixing my eyes on you in every arena of life. In public and in obscurity, let my devotion to you be unchanging and unwavering. I commit all things to you.
Colossians 3:17 (NIV)
And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
New Year(s)
January 1, 2023
New lessons learned, new pain, new suffering, but also new joy. Sorrow is not permanent, nor does it come alone. It is ironically tied to joy as the rainbow is tied to the rain and the light to darkness. One does not exist without the other. Without the rain, we would not appreciate the beauty of the rainbow. Without the darkness, we would not experience the radiance of light. I remember hearing, “how would you appreciate the good if you never went through the bad?”
The good moments taste that much sweeter after grief. Your smile deepens maybe even a bit more than the frown it has replaced. The smile, the happiness itself, is more profound. With each new year comes expectation, many met, many not. The unmet lead us through cycles of disappointment, shifting, rethinking, recalibration, reinventing, and finally rebirth.
It is strange how I feel as though in suffering I lose pieces of myself. Pieces though, that were almost destined to be left behind in the suffering. They were parts of me that were too heavy to be carrying in the first place. Suffering, does, almost certainly each time bring me to a place of surrender. I remember how limited my control is. How in need I am of God. How finite and frail this body is. How I long to cling to a hope much larger than myself, or another person, or anything this world can tangibly provide. There is purpose in it all, the rain as much as the rainbow.