Showing posts with label Psalm 109:25. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Psalm 109:25. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

And whenever Everette is feeling sad she prays to Jesus to make her happy. It is all about seeing life with His mercy.

Help me, O LORD my God; save me for Your mercy’s sake. Psalm 109:25

In effect, Francis said through his lifestyle, "I will delight in powerlessness, humility, poverty, simplicity, and failure." He lived so close to the bottom of things that there was no place to fall. Even when insulted, he did not take offence. Now that is freedom, or what he called "perfect joy"! Lady Julian put it best of all: "First there is the fall, and then we recover from the fall. Both are the mercy of God!" –Richard Rohr

Let us give thanks to the LORD for His mercy and the wonders He does for His children. For He satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things. Psalm 107:8–9
Santorini

Mykonos
Istanbul
Naples
Ravenna
Bagnacavallo

Denver


Well, there is no end to the good things, especially at Trader Joe’s. Everyone was coming over to see the photos from The Grand Tour. So Mary Anne and I decided to try and capture the complete overwhelmingness of deliciousness of Turkey and Greece and Italy. So we served salami cacciatore and prosciutto and capocollo and four kinds of olives and grape leaves wrapped around rice and spinach and feta pita bakes and lemon chicken and tzatziki sauce and orzo pasta and a Greek salad and a Caprese salad with marinated mozzarella balls and basil out of the garden and a big basket of pitas and blood orange juice and red and white table wine and of course the blue bottles of water.

And Alan set up the overhead projector and we watched the past six-and-a-half weeks of life, starting with the arrival of Miss Simone Rose pass before our eyes. Inadequately captured, even by panoramic iPhone shots of the sun setting down around Santorini, or fisheye GoPro shots of The Blue Mosque or even short video clips with sounds of happy singing and dancing Franciscan friars and nuns leading six hundred young adults into happy singing and dancing.

Then after Daniel cleared away the dishes, Mary Anne brought out fresh-from-Jenny’s-garden rhubarb pie with big scoops of Costco vanilla ice cream on it.

And it wasn’t even about the crammed full table or the folders of iPhotos, but the people crowded on the picnic benches. And Everette was a little tired because Mimi didn’t get her down for a nap even after watching Daniel Tiger and reading Angelina and the Princess four times, but Dustin was ever-so-patient as he carried her outside for her three-minute time out and then rocked her through The Wheels on the Bus, even after a long day of replacing coolers on trailer roofs in 108 degree temperatures. And Brandon was pretty tired too, but he had a few stories about job shadowing in an ambulance before he drifted off, curled up in the orange chair. And Scott was quiet and listening while Jack asked good questions. And Simone snuggled and snacked neatly wrapped around her momma, and Adam and Dre are both learning new jobs that are hard and humbling but a little hopeful in the long run. And Mary Anne told about the Turkish scrubbing bubble bath and deniz’s joy of sharing her city Istanbul’s beauty and of the deep blue of the Aegean Sea and of the focused affection of the Italian guy singing and hugging refugee children and the chin-wiggling love of the Borrelli family and of sweet conversations in Lugo and long walks along white sand beaches and the deep, deep peace and Presence which permeates Assisi.

Let us give thanks for His mercy.

And Mile High Vineyard was finishing up their annual summer series, Reel Faith, with clips from the life of Gandhi. And we watched a man humbly follow the teaching of Christ more closely than the so-called Christ-followers. And he walked through humiliation and danger and questions of integrity with quiet strength and courage, that which Richard Rohr would call “freedom” and what Francis called “perfect joy,” because that is what Paul called it, to count it pure joy when we encounter various trials and tribulations.

And sometimes His mercy doesn’t look like heaped-up plates of deliciousness. But mercy it is, for His glory’s sake. And the preacher ended his Gandhi sermon with this question, Jesus, is there anywhere in my life where I can humble myself and repent first?

Because blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for His name’s sake.

For He satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things.

 Let us give thanks to the LORD for His mercy and the wonders He does for His children.




Saturday, February 14, 2015

Why, I don’t know anything more exhilarating and delightful than turning weakness into strength.


Help me, O LORD my God; save me for your mercy’s sake. Psalm 109:25

O God, the strength of all who put their trust in you: Mercifully accept my prayers; and because in my weakness I can do nothing good without you, give me the help of your grace, that in keeping your commandments I may please you in both will and deed; through Jesus Christ my Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

“She bent forward to look, then gave a startled little cry and drew back. There was indeed a seed lying in the palm of his hand, but it was shaped exactly like a long, sharply-pointed thorn… ‘The seed looks very sharp,’ she said shrinkingly. ’Won’t it hurt if you put it into my heart?’

He answered gently, ‘It is so sharp that it slips in very quickly. But, Much-Afraid, I have already warned you that Love and Pain go together, for a time at least. If you would know Love, you must know pain too.’ Hannah Hurnard,
Hinds Feet on High Places

So it happened again. That very clear, specific whisper of truth early in the morning. And very unexpected. Really I was just sitting at the dining room table, feeling a little sad, when the Voice said, “Read Hind’s Feet on High Places.” Really? Really. Unmistakably.

So I rummaged around on the backs of shelves. I actually had a slightly worn copy of the book somewhere, which I had tried to read before on the recommendation of a very respected Margaret, but found it tedious every time.

And this time each word pierced my soul, much like the thorn which the Shepherd slid into Much-Afraid’s heart.


And the book spoke of one whose eyes were on her shortcomings, rather than lifted up to the beauty all around. And one who listened to the pervasive whisperings of her kinfolk, rather than the shining boldness of the Shepherd. And one who looked down in doubt, rather than believing that she could be the beloved of the King.

And a couple of years ago, I was sitting in some airport or the other on one of my accreditation trips. And I glanced over at the guy next to me with a book. “What are you reading?”

He looked up. “I just finished it, and it is for you. God wants me to give you this book.” It was the Song of Songs, a new translation. A slim paperback that has haunted my To Read shelf until now. Because interwoven throughout Hinds Feet is the song for the Beloved, a song of His great love for her.

So I am headed up into the mountains in a week or two for a silent retreat. And I was wondering what I should take with me. Not too much lest I be distracted from what He has to say to me, but something to pull me back onto the path if I get lost. And now I know. The Song of Songs.

Then He pressed the thorn into her heart. It was true, just as He had said, it did cause a piercing pain, but it slipped in quickly and then, suddenly, a sweetness she had never felt or imagined before tingled through her. It was bittersweet, but the sweetness was the stronger. She thought of the Shepherd’s words, ‘It is so happy to love,’ and her pale, sallow cheeks suddenly glowed pink and her eyes shown. For a moment Much-Afraid did not look afraid at all.”

And.

“The High Places,” answered the Shepherd, “are the starting places for the journey down to the lowest place in the world. When you have hinds’ feet and can go ‘leaping on the mountains and skipping on the hills,’ you will be able, as I am, to run down from the heights in the gladdest self-giving and then go up to the mountains again. You will be able to mount to the High Places swifter than eagles, for it is only up on the High Places of Love that anyone can receive the power to pour themselves down in an utter abandonment of self-giving.”

Selah.