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o come, o come Emmanuel
We look back in history to see those who long waited for the Messiah to come. They saw him and rejoiced. They remained steadfast and hopeful even when at times it seemed that the vision tarried. We now are in their same positions, with our eyes fixed on the final coming. We have read the Scriptures. We note the signs given to us who believe. We keep watch over what we have been given to watch. We pack lightly for the journey, bringing ourselves and our raised hands as gifts to the One we adore.
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this is the marvel of marvels …
Sometimes, we lose sight of the far green country. Sometimes, the pits we stumble into are dug by our own hands. But always, we have a Redeemer waiting. If you yearn to feel His hand on your shoulder, hear Him whisper, "Beloved, arise," you are in the right place: further up, and further in ...
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the sweet release of gratitude
I almost didn’t stop today. At the end of a long school day, the only thing I feel like doing is trading my work clothes for something cozy and collapsing in a heap on my couch. Sure, a walk in the crisp autumn sunshine would be good for me, but I was feeling grouchy and stubborn, and I just wanted to go home. But when traffic clogged at the entrance to my apartment complex, I gave in to the inner urging and turned right instead of left ... in spite of my initial reluctance, I knew I would relish this sunny afternoon outdoors.
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into the ground
I’ve never planted garlic before. It feels like a great act of faith on my part to plant a seemingly inanimate kitchen ingredient into the ground just as the warmth of summer is ending and the deadness of winter nears. It seems impossible that a cold, dark, uncomfortable period of time is just what is needed to produce something vibrant, beneficial, and abundant.
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breaking ground to bring growth
Staring at my reflection I realize that the person looking back at me is not the little girl from the memory. Yet if I look deep enough, I see hints of her. The tears begin to pour like rain. I remember things I wish to forget. I fade quickly into the remembering, the pain and grief overtaking me. Then I breathe deeply and simply say the name, Jesus. Suddenly the memories fade, the room stops spinning and I am able to catch my breath again. I start to talk with Jesus.
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inexpressible and glorious
Is it just me, or does it seem to be taking greater “fortitude” than ever just to make it through one day and into the next? Put simply, fortitude is “courage in pain or adversity." I’ve never considered myself to be especially courageous, nor do my life circumstances involve a constant barrage of catastrophes. Yet when life manifests as a daily battle, making a firm decision to hold onto hope can be an act of considerable bravery.
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what is this stirring deep within me?
When I grow weary I pull from my heart pictures of home, weathered and scratched and curled on the edges. My Father writes me letters daily and sends new photos; they are my joy because I know he is with me. His thoughts are toward me, and he too is eagerly awaiting our final reunion. The day we all come home.
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marooned
I have marooned myself, waiting, reaching for that still, small voice I once knew. Marooned in a landscape of endurance and constant wondering. How I wish for just one breath to come and stir, please, come and stir so that I might look beyond. The trail behind me is bloody, footprints and the dragging of my sword in the sand. It’s too heavy to lift—to even sheathe—so I cling to it. For who am I without my sword?
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through the eyes of a child
Recently I had an interaction with a child that left me pondering and reflecting on my own identity.
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do not be surprised
Beloved, we are walking through a time in history that is rife with fear, confusion, division, and hostility. When we wake each morning, the uncertainty of what kind of world will greet us messes with our equilibrium. The weight of dealing with this imbalance day after day wears down our resolve. The unrest in our government, workplaces, social circles, and even in the last place we’d think to find it—our churches—is exacerbated by our seeming powerlessness, and we are tempted toward despair. Far from seeing the beauty in the mystery, it can feel dark and distressing. We long for those days in which we could take a free breath, unhindered…