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raw joy
Sometimes, joy doesn’t look like rejoicing. It may feel startling, or undesirable; its rough edges may scrape our fragile skin as we brush up against it. But when we begin to recognize joy in the raw places of our grief and disillusionment, we are convinced anew that God is good, that faith is real. When we see that there is hope ahead, that we haven't been abandoned in the midst of an unfinished story, this is our joy. So hang onto this truth, Beloved, when the winds blow untamed and the path twists in front of you. Yes, there may be suffering and pain where the road bends, but the…
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rejoice
“And Mary said: ‘My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior ... No clearer insight exists into the brave and beautiful heart of Mary than this powerful New Testament psalm. As she is first acknowledged by another to be carrying the seed of God, these words pour from her mouth out of an overflowing heart. Their source is neither pride nor fear, but a humble acknowledgment of her own lowliness and a joyful exaltation of the Lord.
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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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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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walking upside down
Grace gifts. Some of them are easy to identify, like a snow day descending in early November. Others take a little more digging to uncover, wrapped as they are in uncomfortable packaging, or even seeming disaster. But in this upside down Kingdom, they can be the very things to shake us from our precarious perch on the familiar and catapult us into the terrifying freedom that waits beyond. a case of mistaken identity A few weeks ago, I read the modern classic Stellaluna to my students, a picture book by Janell Canon. It’s a sweet story about a lost baby fruit bat who is taken in by a family of…
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vibrant
An earlier post I shared — the first about my struggle to live the single life well — received more comments and feedback than anything else I’ve written in recent memory. That told me something I had already suspected: that I’d touched a nerve, connected with an unmet need. In writer-speak, I may just have landed on my “platform.” There is a weight on this message, an urgency to speak it forth, yet I feel a bit as if I am stumbling around in the dark, stubbing my toes as I grope for the light that was just right there a moment ago. What is it, Lord, that You would…
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Adoration
I don’t know how it is for you, but my internal sense of celebration rarely lines up precisely with the seasons. For example, it wasn’t until this morning, a full two days after Thanksgiving, that my heart began to swell with spontaneous gratitude. After sleeping late, I made myself a cup of tea and nestled into the deep cushions of my couch. Pen in hand, I sought to capture the waves of love rising up inside me, the wealth of worship pouring forth. As always, words fell short and I closed my eyes, sinking into this sense of sweetest grace. My heart falls to its knees before You in wonder…
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A Promise Worth Claiming
I was drawn into Philippians today; I’m not sure why. I think I was instinctively seeking some comfort from all the “rejoice” references. Grief and struggle has been thick in the air lately, and between that and accumulating stresses in my work, I found myself teetering dangerously on the edge of a familiar dark place. I felt the rush of tears just reading the intro verses; there was something in the simplicity of returning to the Word after a prolonged absence – the sense of being safe at home was immediate. But Paul’s attitude baffles me. At the end of verse 18 and on into 19, he writes, “Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that…
