I will recount the steadfast love of the LORD, the praises of the LORD, according to all that the LORD has granted us, and the great goodness that He has granted according to His compassion, according to the abundance of His steadfast love. Isaiah 63:7-8
Yesterday Nicole asked about the melancholy tone to my morning thoughts. A sadness woven in and out. A faint irony shadowing even the sunlit bits. From far away, from the other side of the spinning planet, that is what she hears.
Ann Voscamp of course says it better. Every day and especially this morning. http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/06/why-you-really-do-want-to-be-a-dangerous-disciple-of-an-unsafe-god/
Yea though I walk through the valley of death I will fear no evil for Thou art with me.
If I knew no hurt I would not know His healing touch. Only the sick have need of a Physician. Popping nitro pills first thing every morning to calm gripping pain. Freshly ground coffee produces the most fragrant capuchino. You anoint my head with oil.
And I push through the glass door with the fading taped flyer about the little three-old-girl who was stolen from her bed and step out onto the cement deck lined with bright red and blue flags dangling over the Olympic pool full of hoping-to-be Olympic swimmers who head to the time trials next week. I slip into the water now warmed by the summer sun, and Jim the swim swami reminds me, like he reminds me every day, “Steady effort.”
Early morning mud splatters on my light-as-a-feather Crocs. I remember when Heather dragged me to one of those frightful mall kiosks. They terrify me. The torn emotions of pity for the desperate salesclerks bounding from behind the counter and dread. Leave me alone. Anyway. Something perfect for momma. Vaguely stylish and ever-so-sensible. Tromp through Jarabocoa rivers and with a swipe they are ready for Country Club dining. Almost. Just like me. Thank you for Crocs that rinse off easily before I head off to work.
Yes. I will recount the steadfast love of the LORD. The great goodness He has granted. According to His compassion.
May His mercy shine upon us. Today as I wait in the room outside the procedure for a beloved friend, sitting amongst the stacked and crumpled magazines and strategically placed windows overlooking manicured gardens to remind us that there is Someone Outside and Bigger than the doctors, I will raise my stone named Ebenezer for "Thus far the LORD has helped us."
It’s more about memories these days rather than memory. As I stare down at the blank sheet of paper trying to dredge up the name.
Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
streams of mercy, never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
mount of Thy redeeming love.
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