Jesus
taught the people, saying: “Take notice of what you are hearing.” Mark 4:24
I
hope the book of Ruth affects you the way a trip to the Grand Canyon might. How
do you apply the Grand Canyon? Of course, you don’t apply the Grand Canyon–you
are stunned by its beauty. You stop talking as you let it fill your soul. You
are silent as your soul expands. You sense that you don’t have enough capacity
to capture the beauty.
One of the oddest things about deep suffering is that the sun comes up in the morning. Life limps along. We have to hang in there with the story that God has permitted in our lives. As we endure, as we keep showing up for life when it makes no sense, we learn to love, and God shows up too.
Hesed, His
steadfast love, a one-way love, a stubborn love. Your response to the other
person is entirely independent of how that person has treated you. Love like
this is unbalanced, uneven. There is nothing fair about this kind of love. But
commitment-love lies at the heart of Christianity. It is Jesus’ love for us at
the cross, and it is our love for one another. We rightly sense that death is
at the center of love.
When
feelings are the standard, we are left adrift on a turbulent sea. But with hesed love, you don’t allow your spirit to pull away. You
move towards the other person; you don’t allow an ugly space to grow. –Paul
Miller, A Loving Life
So
one of the very cool things was that Manuel wanted to watch dawn rise over the
Canyon. We had endured a sort of awkward and not-enough-blankets dozing in the
car by the side of the road night in Nicole’s big old Cadillac and even before
the tiniest hint of light had started to edge the horizon we stumbled along a
trail to the very edge.
And
waited in silence. Awake. Eyes open.
And
the Monday night ladies have started a new book. And in each of our lives there
is some of that darkest-before-dawn aching limping forward, in hope of the
resurrection love. And we don’t really understand what it will look like, and
maybe there is a little doubt mixed in as well, that keeps us from recognizing
Him as He comforts us outside of the tomb of smashed expectations.
His
lovingkindness. Hesed, His steadfast
love, a one-way love, a stubborn love.
And
one more morning before dawn I pray the prayer of hope and strength and
courage.
Make
us strong and courageous to do the new thing, because You are not the God of I
was but You are the God I am and You are doing a new thing and that thing is
unfolding right now in us. We will be strong and courageous and we will not be
afraid, and we will not be discouraged, for You are the Lord our God & You
will be with us where we go, so we take the next step which may feel like a
leap of faith but our best mode of transportation through anything is always a
leap of faith. –Ann Voskamp
And
this morning’s wonder watching was through Arroyo Chico under bulbous
pregnant-with-rain clouds shaded with silvers of every hue. The creosote were
so bursting with flowers and fluffy pods that I could barely breathe. It was
too dark to see the compass point mountains so I wandered around and around
under yellow-drenched waterfalls of palo verdes and paid attention past the
prickly pears and chollas. And pretty much the moment I stepped back through
the front door the clouds let loose and birthed.
I
might have to take the bus to school.
O
God, whose blessed Son made himself known to His disciples in the breaking of
bread: Open the eyes of my faith, that I may behold Him in all His redeeming
work; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for
ever. Amen.
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