Hey, Y'all,
I was looking in my (ironically-labeled, I now realize, as some of these are a couple of years old) "future RST" folder and found this quote whose citation I've apparently lost. Here it is...
I received word recently of the passing of a 68-year-old woman who was a mom and a grandmother--she was involved in an automobile accident which left her in a coma from which she never recovered. In the words of a family friend, she was "just a normal housewife whose family was her career." When they spoke at her funeral, they all spoke about a remarkable woman who had a profound influence on their lives by "merely" being there and being faithful to God.
Here's a truth among truths: there's no substitute for the power of a steady life of faith. It may not hit you over the head, but over time, the reality of a loving life takes hold and you cannot shake it. We often hear about the more glamorous stories of radical change faith can produce, and these are indeed thrilling and inspiring stories, but the real examples are often unclaimed until someone is suddenly taken from us, or we are given time to listen to the silence of someone's life. And that silence can speak volumes.
Think of all the unsung heroes like her who will shine like stars in Heaven. It's not always--no, in fact, it's almost never the convincing argument or the riveting miracle that changes lives. It's much more often the quiet power of a steady faith that leaves the deepest impression and can win over the hardest heart.
If someone listened to your life today, what would they hear? Anxiety, fear, confusion, hurry? Or love and a faith that is bigger than all those things? What speaks loudest in your life? It's a sobering thought and I, for one, have to say I am not real pleased with the results of my own self-assessment in this regard. Good thing we've all got a little more time by the grace of God. Live well today, live well every day. You never know who'll be listening to your life.
You've been prayed for today...
J
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
"Pour out your heart...Lift up your hands" (Part 2)
Hey, Y'all,
Wow, a week already -- good grief! OK, on to Part 2.
So I was reading Psalm 128 again as I periodically do (it's one of my favorite passages, but that's another RST for another time :-) when I decided to also read Psalm 127 (it's funny how often I'll run across something useful or thought-provoking when I read a chapter before and/or after; you should give it a try and see if the Lord doesn't use that little bit of initiative to speak to you in a shockingly clear voice).
At any rate, I'd forgotten that Psalm 127 starts out, "Unless the LORD builds the house, its builders labor in vain."
That's striking a pretty profound chord in me these days.
It then continues, "Don't you see that children are God's best gift, the fruit of the womb His generous legacy?"
Hmmm. Yeah. That one also found its mark. Funny how that works. I guess for me this RST is a call to action, the culmination of thoughts and conversations Evonne and I have been having recently. It's a reminder that even though much has been written about God and the Bible, and much of it is in fact worthwhile, nothing can take the place of actually opening The Book and communing with its Author directly. As we've said here before, He actually seeks us out, He relishes His time with us, His children. He knows our lives, He knows our needs; that's why the invitation woven throughout scripture -- His eternal message to us -- is to stop, even for a just moment, and be refreshed and filled, our characters refined and ennobled:
"The Lord called to the man--as He still does--and said, 'Where are you?' Come now, let us reason together. Whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life. Whoever is thirsty, let them come; and whoever wishes, let them take the free gift of the water of life." (from Genesis 3, Isaiah 1, John 4, and Revelation 22).
You've been prayed for today...
J
Wow, a week already -- good grief! OK, on to Part 2.
So I was reading Psalm 128 again as I periodically do (it's one of my favorite passages, but that's another RST for another time :-) when I decided to also read Psalm 127 (it's funny how often I'll run across something useful or thought-provoking when I read a chapter before and/or after; you should give it a try and see if the Lord doesn't use that little bit of initiative to speak to you in a shockingly clear voice).
At any rate, I'd forgotten that Psalm 127 starts out, "Unless the LORD builds the house, its builders labor in vain."
That's striking a pretty profound chord in me these days.
It then continues, "Don't you see that children are God's best gift, the fruit of the womb His generous legacy?"
Hmmm. Yeah. That one also found its mark. Funny how that works. I guess for me this RST is a call to action, the culmination of thoughts and conversations Evonne and I have been having recently. It's a reminder that even though much has been written about God and the Bible, and much of it is in fact worthwhile, nothing can take the place of actually opening The Book and communing with its Author directly. As we've said here before, He actually seeks us out, He relishes His time with us, His children. He knows our lives, He knows our needs; that's why the invitation woven throughout scripture -- His eternal message to us -- is to stop, even for a just moment, and be refreshed and filled, our characters refined and ennobled:
"The Lord called to the man--as He still does--and said, 'Where are you?' Come now, let us reason together. Whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life. Whoever is thirsty, let them come; and whoever wishes, let them take the free gift of the water of life." (from Genesis 3, Isaiah 1, John 4, and Revelation 22).
You've been prayed for today...
J
Sunday, September 6, 2009
"Pour out your heart...Lift up your hands" (Part 1)
Hey, Y'all,
Happy Labor Day weekend! It's been sweet, hope you too are taking a little breather, I know I needed one. Ran across this text in an excerpt from Max Lucado's new book -- Fearless -- that really touched me (don't remember ever having read it before; but then considering it's found in the book of Lamentations it's probably not that strange):
"Pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord. Lift up your hands to Him for the lives of your children."
Lamentations 2:19
Nice; really love the imagery, so vivid, so clear it's nearly heart-rending. Now here's the excerpt (for some reason this is all resonating with me a little more than it previously might have :-)
Jairus...begged Jesus to come to his home (Luke 8:41). The father wasn’t content with long distance assistance; he wanted Christ beneath his roof, walking through his rooms, standing at the bedside of his daughter. He wanted the presence of Christ to permeate his house. My wife displays this same longing. I will someday ask God, “Why were you so good to my daughters and me?” and he will answer by pointing to Denalyn. “She just kept talking about you and your kids.”
Denalyn takes regular prayer walks through our house, stepping into each bedroom and living area. She pauses to pray for her daughters and husband. She takes full advantage of the invitation of Lamentations 2:19: “Pour out your heart like water before the face of the Lord. Lift your hands toward Him for the life of your young children” (Lam. 2:19).
Yeah, I'm starting to understand the enormity of that need, the depth of that feeling. Now, before I lose those of you without children of your own, I'll say this: I realized a while ago that I was responsible for "my" children long before I had my first. What am I talking about?
First and most important, I realized that my walk with God was not something I would just be able to "flip on" when the time came; it's something that takes consistent, persistent effort on my part, not because God's that hard to find but because I'm that easy to distract. That's why I like to think of it as my "walk" with God; slow, rich, constant, life-long.
Secondly, I realized that I was (and am) Uncle Juan, and Tio Cacalos, and The Godfather, to more than a few little ones who watch everything I do and listen to every word I say. Am I showing them properly what a good man, a Godly man, looks like?
That's why I want -- no, why I need -- "Christ beneath my roof, walking through my rooms, standing at the bedside of my daughter. I want the presence of Christ to permeate my house," [starting with me].
More on this next post, but in the meantime...
You've been prayed for today.
J
Happy Labor Day weekend! It's been sweet, hope you too are taking a little breather, I know I needed one. Ran across this text in an excerpt from Max Lucado's new book -- Fearless -- that really touched me (don't remember ever having read it before; but then considering it's found in the book of Lamentations it's probably not that strange):
"Pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord. Lift up your hands to Him for the lives of your children."
Lamentations 2:19
Nice; really love the imagery, so vivid, so clear it's nearly heart-rending. Now here's the excerpt (for some reason this is all resonating with me a little more than it previously might have :-)
Jairus...begged Jesus to come to his home (Luke 8:41). The father wasn’t content with long distance assistance; he wanted Christ beneath his roof, walking through his rooms, standing at the bedside of his daughter. He wanted the presence of Christ to permeate his house. My wife displays this same longing. I will someday ask God, “Why were you so good to my daughters and me?” and he will answer by pointing to Denalyn. “She just kept talking about you and your kids.”
Denalyn takes regular prayer walks through our house, stepping into each bedroom and living area. She pauses to pray for her daughters and husband. She takes full advantage of the invitation of Lamentations 2:19: “Pour out your heart like water before the face of the Lord. Lift your hands toward Him for the life of your young children” (Lam. 2:19).
Yeah, I'm starting to understand the enormity of that need, the depth of that feeling. Now, before I lose those of you without children of your own, I'll say this: I realized a while ago that I was responsible for "my" children long before I had my first. What am I talking about?
First and most important, I realized that my walk with God was not something I would just be able to "flip on" when the time came; it's something that takes consistent, persistent effort on my part, not because God's that hard to find but because I'm that easy to distract. That's why I like to think of it as my "walk" with God; slow, rich, constant, life-long.
Secondly, I realized that I was (and am) Uncle Juan, and Tio Cacalos, and The Godfather, to more than a few little ones who watch everything I do and listen to every word I say. Am I showing them properly what a good man, a Godly man, looks like?
That's why I want -- no, why I need -- "Christ beneath my roof, walking through my rooms, standing at the bedside of my daughter. I want the presence of Christ to permeate my house," [starting with me].
More on this next post, but in the meantime...
You've been prayed for today.
J
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