November 13, 2015
Hallelujah! Give thanks to the LORD for He is good,
for His mercy endures for ever. Psalm
106:1
I
woke up in a Slough yet again this morning. So I read Chapter 4 of 1000 Gifts and added to my eucharisteo list after that. Then clicked
to the fixed prayers list and gave thanks for each and every one. And His Spirit
reminded me of His goodness. May I see His mercy for ever.
To you, O LORD, I lift
up my soul; my God, I put my trust in you; let me not be humiliated, nor let my
enemies triumph over me. Let none who look to you be put to shame. Psalm 25:1-2
And
people are not my enemies. The Accuser and his lies and his cohorts are the
enemy. May they not triumph over me.
For we
wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against
powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual
wickedness in high places. Ephesians 6:12
November 14, 2015
Mercy and truth have met together; righteousness and
peace have kissed each other. Psalm
85:10
Jesus taught us, saying: “Be compassionate just as
your Father is compassionate. Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not
condemn, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven.
Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken
together, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap; because the standard
you use will be the standard used for you.” Luke 6:36-38
And when it is very dark, light shines ever so clearly. And
as bombs explode and lives are razed and goodwill is smashed to the ground and
trampled, what is true and from the heart of our Father who is compassionate
rises up, is lifted up, in a flame of hope and restoration.
And every day each of us light bearers heads out into a
world darkened by lies and brokenness and pain and loss and anger and fear. Let
us not hide it under a bushel basket. Let me not crouch under a bushel basket
that blocks my vision from anything but me and mine, just keeping my head low
and looking down and kind of cramped and pretty grumpy.
A bushel basket, no.
Rather let me fix my eyes on Him, who sent not His only
beloved Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world, through
Him, might be saved. And to follow His gaze outward to the harvest, stretching
out to every horizon, to the people who are harassed and helpless.
Matthew 9 is full of Pharisees, Accusing and judging and
questioning and name-calling and labeling.
And
He? Jesus answered
their questions with word and deed. He went through all the towns and villages,
proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and
sickness. When he saw the crowds, He had compassion on them.
And each dusk I return bone-ground weary. Outwardly
bedraggled and inwardly squeezed and twisted like an old cleaning rag. It is
getting darker earlier now. And I have to turn on my blinking red and white
lights to ride home. And I have to watch
out for distracted drivers and deep fissures in the asphalt. But at least the breeze
and arching sky sort of brushes off some of the soul dust from the day.
And if He, innocent and only good, pleads for mercy for the
stone-throwers, who am I to do less?
And so once again in the morning, while it is still dark, I
seek sustenance. Today’s manna. What is
it?
Give me today my daily bread. Mercy anew. And perhaps part
of the Cry of the Church, “Lord have mercy on us” is a plea for His mercy on us,
His mercy to pour down over my soul like a healing balm.
New every morning.
Great is Thy faithfulness, O God.
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