Christianity

Majesty

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Wading deeply into light (formless substance we are unable to hold still more solid than any reality)

Your cloak composed of starlight

Bright fire from your eyes escapes to cover the earth with heat

Majestic you rise to take your place

A realm man cannot fathom

Vast beyond dream yet existing in…on…around

You only, are everything

I am small but I am yours

Yesterday morning while coming home from taking my daughter to school, I was struck by the majesty of this sunrise (this photo doesn’t even begin to capture it but it was the best I could do while driving). The sun stood low in the sky but was larger than I’d ever seen it. I couldn’t help but worship as I thought about the son of the living God who watches over us with His infinite love and grace rising to take his place on the throne of my heart.

I’m continually awed by the thought that the God who stretched out the heavens with his hands, who spoke everything into being, loves ME enough to reach into my life and redeem me. I am so small in the grand scheme of things but he knows & loves ME. That baffles me.

I am in His thoughts and they are good! “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11

He rejoices over me, sings over me and comforts me. “The Lord your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.”  Zephaniah 3:17

I believe if we ever really got ahold of that we would never be the same. I am comforted daily by a comforter who wraps me up in his presence and quiets me with his love. It doesn’t get better than that.

I don’t serve God out of fear or to obtain a “get out of hell free” card. I serve the Lord because I am captured and amazed by a love that lights my darkness and intimately adores me. I serve the Lord because His life is abundant. I serve the Lord because I can’t imagine loving him more but I earnestly desire to spend the rest of my life growing in love for him.

All he ever asked for was all of me and I intend to hold nothing back. That is the only reasonable thing I can do.

 

 

 

Vapor

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We aren’t promised tomorrow so live today as though you mean it. Clichés are so easy to say until you’re staring at the end of the tunnel wondering what went wrong.

I’ve spent so much time talking about seizing moments, creating opportunities and defining destiny. Then I think about how little I’ve accomplished and I cower under the weight of this self-imposed burden. At least I’ve begun.

Who knows but God what ripple rings out in the heavens, from the droplets pooled to substance, of songs I’ve sung, words I’ve penned or smiles offered in moments of need. What kind word might have made an impact? What kind action caused movement in the vastness of time?

A vapor in the wind I am, but vapor joined with other vapor forms rain that brings life to the earth beneath even though it’s unaware as it rises. It probably doesn’t know anything at all and in the grand scheme of things, I am clueless and ignorant as well. Therefore, I decree that I am actually making sense (yea right).

All I can determine is that the most important thing I have to offer is my “now”. I can only step as far as my legs will carry me, the residuals aren’t my problem. God can take every minute I sow and expand it into hours. I can only be present and aware of the canvas before me. “O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall show forth Your praise.” Psalm 51:15.

All the rest is trivial.

 

 

Of Life and Pinatas

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My son just turned six as you can see by my previous post “Birthday Thoughts from a Mushy Mom”. In typical “mushy mom” fashion, I let him convince me that he NEEDED a piñata to celebrate properly. Even in the store while purchasing said piñata all I could think about was America’s Funniest Home Videos and how it seems nothing good can ever come from such a thing…which led to my thinking about how on earth I could convince my husband to help in this activity as usually it’s the man assisting who ends up getting whacked in conspicuous places.

My husband and stepfather proved to be very wise men. They configured a pulley system of sorts from which to hang the piñata while providing ample distance between them and the onslaught of small people swinging bats. This also provided the perfect opportunity to mess with the youngsters by moving the piñata at random times thus disorienting them. You can watch what happened as my nephew Malachi stepped up to bat in the following video

We spent a lot of time laughing that day and I’ve watched all of the videos I took of all of the kids taking a whack at it, and I’ve laughed some more. Still, the last couple of days it’s gotten me thinking…

I can’t help but think that often I’m just a kid with a bat swinging randomly hoping for contact. God’s watching and probably laughing at me from time to time. Maybe He’s even moving the piñata occasionally to see if I’ll stay centered & listen for the sound as the prize inside swishes around.

We all have blindfolds on. Maybe it’s just the concept that we see through a glass dimly until we see Him face to face. Maybe it’s just that we allow things to get between us and Him and cover our eyes. The biggest tragedy isn’t when we can’t see, it’s when we don’t listen. He that has an ear, let him hear.

The kids eventually succeeded in breaking open the piñata and enjoying its spoils and so will we as long as we patiently endure. “And so, after he had patiently endured, he obtained the promise.” Hebrews 6:15

Lord, help me to keep swinging and listen carefully.

The Correction Connection

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I hate that I hate criticism!  I’ve always struggled with this. The smallest of critiques can make my brain shake. I know in my heart it’s ridiculous. I know the truth is that, “Whoever loves instruction loves knowledge, but he who hates correction is stupid.” Proverbs 12:1. My head & heart have run laps around this mountain for years, but still I sit here in my office fuming over accusations that are trivial in proper proportion, but just the fact that my proficiency has been questioned makes me crazy. The fact of the matter is that I was not created to be fully proficient at everything anyway. Again, I know that, but this awareness does little to still the maddening quakes of my pride.

I’m not proud of this fact, in fact I’m questioning whether or not I’ll actually allow this post to exit my computer & enter the world of the living. I hate that I am proud. I hate that I have flaws; I want to be perfect after all. The sad truth is that the very desire of my heart to be perfect may be one of the most imperfect things about me. I remember being in the fifth grade & crying myself to sleep every night for two weeks because I got a “B” in Science on my report card. I kept that report card for years. There, lost in the middle of the monument to my “smartness” was a lonely little “B”. I realized a few months ago when I came across it in a drawer that I must be crazy for keeping it for 25 years but more so that I must be crazy that instead of taking pride in the accomplishments evidenced by all of the “A’s” staring back at me, I was ashamed of the lonely “B”. I kept this for all those years as a tribute to my perfectionism. Now I seek to kill my perfectionism & start a new desire for excellence without condemnation. With that, I threw the report card in the garbage can.

Why not start memorializing things that I’m actually proud of? No one really cares about what I got on my 5th grade report card anyway. To be honest, what people think about me doesn’t really matter. Whatever good I do, I should be doing for the Lord and not for men to praise me.

Matthew 6:3 “But when you do a charitable deed, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, 4 that your charitable deed may be in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will Himself reward you openly.”

Colossians 3:23 “And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men”

My greatest accomplishments are the simplest of things, the way I serve the Lord and my family as a wife & a mother, the way I abandon myself in worship and the moments spent in prayer that no one sees. The biggest mystery of all is that the best things are always born from the times I allow myself to decrease. Upon the death of my pride & my selfish nature, I can begin to live and accomplish great things. So why do I let myself get caught up in the criticism of others when I really desire to change from who I am and be changed into the likeness of Christ? 

I can almost see myself, lying down on the altar ready to present myself as a living sacrifice Romans 12 style, then someone questions my Budget calculations and I start kicking and screaming & hurl myself down from the wood and flames ready to fight and defend my math to prove to everyone that I am capable while God sighs, shakes His head and says “I guess we’ll be revisiting this lesson again”. I’m so glad He’s patient with me. It really is laughable that I waste so much time and energy trying to defend myself, when I have the greatest defender whose only requirement is that I do everything unto Him. He will gladly do the rest.

Lord, help me to acknowledge when my pride is trying to rise up & overthrow the village of my soul. Help me to deal with it quickly and stay right where I’m supposed to be, surrendered on the altar of your grace. There is no better way to live. Let me see that correction makes me better. Let me embrace it with an open heart & a willing Spirit. Help me to discern when it is true & I need to change or when it is silly and I need to ignore it, shake it off and move on. God, let me be so focused on YOU that everything else I do and say will be filtered by Your Spirit, then I won’t blow it.

Sunset

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What do you even call the color where all the shades & hues of the spectrum collide and meet  in the middle of the sunset? It corresponds with the nature of soul and spirit itself, a mixed kaleidoscope of beauty; inspiring, inviting, connecting to the core of me. It slides and fades; brightens and deepens in mere seconds. It’s just like your voice, a constant of brilliance, a myriad of excellence, a conglomerate of majesty before me. It breathes in and out freedom and wonder, intimacy and radiance. You sing and I am new.

The waiting world holds its breath now eagerly anticipating that moment… that flash when you speak. Explosions of color emanate from your mouth. You breathe and we live. Then when the fire of your glory touches the earth, light transcends shadow. Meaning surpasses the coming night. The promise of morning looms heavy in the salty air.

Brilliance becomes you. Color and light grasp in vain to describe you. You are vast.

Speak Lord, I am listening.

Color meets Sea

Collision

Prayer of Peace

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I always thought of peace in the still, the calm of the water as it sits like glass; so pure you feel like it could hold you. Maybe there’s peace there. But as I sit here listening to the babbling of the brook, the trickling as the water flows gently over rock, white tops bouncing playfully as creek meets stream, I see a peace I’ve never known.

Maybe that’s just another way your peace passes our understanding. We expect peace in the still when noise is dimmed to silence, when movement fades to freeze. Yet greater peace is found in the chaos. It’s in the way the water goes whichever way you send it, the way the speed increases as the path narrows. Yet the whole time it’s guided by the boundaries you’ve set in place. The banks were built to hold it, the boulder sent to divert it, the tree limb sprouting aimlessly out of rock like a mystic, misplaced giant. 

There’s a comfort there in the noise, the splash, the motion. There’s an alcove ahead where the water rests, if only for a minute. It pools with the other drops around it lazily descending toward the next narrow place where it will flow further down the mountain. There’s a safety in knowing that you guide the mountain. You hold the stream. You bring the melody I sing to the sway of the trees you created. You’ve given us this moment. You’re romancing me.

As I leave this place and find myself back in the clamor and commotion of life, let this moment sustain me. Let me remember that you are holding me.

Without the noise, there’d be no music. Without the movement, we’d be stagnant. Without the narrow, we’d never be sharpened and grow.

You are my peace.

Jaimie Dandridge