He must increase and I must decrease .

Satisfy us by your loving-kindness in the morning so shall we rejoice and be glad all the days of our life. Psalm 90:14

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.

10. Laughter: man, the only laughter I heard today was pretty mean-spirited.

11. Gifts in working: the joy and dedication of my leadership team and support staff…they are absolutely committed to the vision of not giving up on one of the least of these; the support and compassion and sacrifice of my coworkers; the aching raw need of my students is a huge opportunity to be dependent entirely on the Spirit’s strength and wisdom.

In all these experiences the Lord had a twofold purpose -- the blessing of the needy and the transformation of His servant. "The Holy Ghost took me through grade after grade," he said. "The process of changing one's natures (replacing self nature by the divine nature) was very slow and bitter. It was a daily dying and showing forth the life of Christ, but that life was the life of a victim. Christ was the greatest Victim this side of the Cross, but the greatest Victor on the other; and the daily path was the way of the Cross: every selfish motive and every selfish thought was at once dealt with by the Holy Spirit. In my boyhood days the strictest man I knew was my schoolmaster, but how often I said that the Holy Ghost was a thousand times more strict-the schoolmaster could only judge by actions, but the Holy Ghost was judging by the motive." –Rees Howell, Intercessor

To receive God’s gifts, to live exalted and joy filled, isn’t a function of straining higher, harder, doing more, carrying long the burdens of the super-Pharisees or ultra-saints. Receiving God’s gifts is a gentle, simple movement of stooping lower. –Ann Voskamp, 1000 Gifts

So yesterday at our staff meeting we watched the new school video, which is all warm and fuzzy and visionary. And we watched a second video, a story put together by an intern for the New York Times, a backstory. And after it finished and the wall was quiet, there was a pause of memories. And then they poured out stories about those angry little kids whose dad was in jail for shooting his wife, their mother, for a second time. And they had a lot of learning gaps, no kidding. But He is a God of restoration and transformation. I know one thing. Their momma is the happiest lady ever serving school lunches once a week. And she was so inspired by her two boys going to Greenfields and The Gregory School that she went and got her GED. And the little sister, well, she is a sixth-grade scholar. With her hand held up high and a sweet smile on her lips.

 So it’s pretty intense these early mornings as I seek to be satisfied by His lovingkindness and nothing more. And I am reading Rees Howells, Intercessor and 1000 Gifts at the same time…little chunks of each to mix in with my psalms and gospels.

 And the mishmash does a pretty good job of framing the paradox of taking up one’s cross each day and yet the yoke is easy and light. Jack talked about that that in Sunday’s sermon.

 The stakes are high: If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross daily, and follow me. If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. Bit if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it. And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but are yourself lost or destroyed? Luke 9:23-25

 As I was flipping turns this morning, rehearsing the workout in my head: 2 200 s, 4 100 k, 1 400 p. 25 s hard easy, 50 s easy hard, 75 s all easy, 100 s all hard and do it again, I remembered little nine-year-old Dre. And I would pick her up after swim practice and she would be chock-full of an adrenaline high. “Let me tell you my workout. Ya wanna hear my workout?” And she would prattle off a string of what then were unintelligible numbers and phrases. Joy through suffering. Strength through pain. And she was one of the two best swimmers in her Arizona age group. Although I am not quite sure to do with the shoebox of medals in her old bedroom closet.

You are either all in or all out. No turning back. Count the cost before beginning to build a tower.

I assure you that everyone who has given up house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or property, for my sake and for the Good News, will receive now in return a hundred times as many houses, brothers, sisters, mothers, children, and property–along with persecution.  Mark 10:29-30

Along with persecution.

And at the end of the sermon, there was a quiet moment. A moment of decision.

Oh Lamb of God, I come.

Wonder, just wonder if the verses I memorized from that big puffy green Bible when I was eight years old were really true?

⁴ Always be full of joy in the Lord; I say it again, rejoice! ⁵ Let everyone see that you are unselfish and considerate in all you do. Remember that the Lord is coming soon. ⁶ Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything; tell God your needs, and don’t forget to thank him for his answers. ⁷ If you do this, you will experience God’s peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will keep your thoughts and your hearts quiet and at rest as you trust in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:4-7, The Living Bible

Is that what it means to come to Him as a child?

And I remember that vision on the church wall in Mexico, of me filling cup after cup and handing them one at a time to children in such a long line that it reached out the door. But I didn't know they would first spit in the cup and then throw it back in my face.

O LORD, I am not proud; I have no haughty looks. I do not occupy myself with great matters, or with things that are too hard for me. But I still my soul and make it quiet, like a child upon its mother’s breast; my soul is quieted within me. Psalm 131:1–3

Lord God, almighty and everlasting Father, You have brought me in safety to this new day: Preserve me with Your mighty power, that I may not fall into sin, nor be overcome by adversity; and in all I do direct me to the fulfilling of Your purpose; through Jesus Christ my Lord. Amen.

And really, all I have to do is make it through one more day. That’s it. And today is going to suck me into its veritable hurricane of spinning dust and rocks and twigs and busted bits and may I be in His stillness.

A child at rest on her mother’s breast.

And Everette always reaches up and holds an earlobe. Or fondles the wrinkly elbow skin. And is comforted by presence.

May my soul be quieted.

It’s not about me.

Soft is stronger than hard. Water is stronger than a rock.

Release.

Then he will remove His hand. And we will look.

Show me the light of Your countenance, O God, and come to me. Psalm 67:1

Jesus said: “In all truth I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born through water and the Spirit; what is born of human nature is human; what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be surprised when I say: You must be born from above. The wind blows where it pleases; you can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” John 3:5–8

The love of the Saviour was revealed to me, You can't explain what a revelation is. I saw that the Saviour and Father, before I should suffer, would rather suffer for me. No natural love is in the same world as His love. It was not merely that the Saviour helped me outside Himself; no, He took my place. I saw every other love so rough in comparison. Self was the motive of it. But I could see that love enduring through the countless ages of eternity. When you receive the Saviour, you receive the love of God. That love flooded my being, and it has flooded my being ever since. I .saw that by His coming in to me, He would love sinners through me, as He loved me. It would not be forcing myself to love others, any more than the Saviour forced Himself to love me. No person could be an enemy to me, because I had been an enemy to Him before I was reconciled. If I live in the realm where He is, I live to have mercy, and to be kind, to love others. Could the love of God in me do harm to anyone? I had left the world and its folly, and been born into that Kingdom where there is only the love of God -- the most attractive life on the face of the earth. –Rees Howells

So I started off yesterday with this question in my heart…What is it that I ask of You, in Your name? That You promise to do so that the Father will be glorified in the Son. Anything. Ask anything in Your name, and You will do it.

I didn’t have an answer yet.

Anything.

And my soundtrack for the ride down Broadway was once again Audry Assad: From the need to be understood From the need to be accepted From the need of being lonely Deliver me O God Deliver me O God.

And I glanced over the Mother Teresa prayer taped to my windshield: Dear Jesus, help us to spread your fragrance everywhere we go. Flood our souls with your spirit and life. Penetrate and possess our whole being so utterly, that our lives may only be a radiance of yours.

And I briefly mulled over the Request for Presence, Show me the light of Your countenance, O God, and come to me, but my attention was distracted by all of the usual darts, and the day quickly unraveled into a tear-blurred rollercoaster ride of humiliation.

But last night I rode out to the airport and once again I waited below the escalator and watched the distorted people walk past the camera monitor.  I have done this sort of thing a lot. Lots of memories. And Nicole had stories of her adventures by the sea, hard and good. And profound.

And last night I began to read the story of Rees Howells. A very nice Christian Welshman who at last saw the light of His countenance. And when the love of God was revealed to him, his life was never the same.

And oddly enough the Request for Presence was the same today as yesterday:

Show me the light of Your countenance, O God, and come to me.

Anything.

In My name.

Show me the light of Your countenance, O God, and come to me.

And this morning the glorious trail of planets sparkled in the clarity overhead.

Jesus taught us, saying: “. . . if you are bringing your offering to the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar, go and be reconciled with your brother first, and then come back and present your offering.” Matthew 5:23–24

Happy are they whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the LORD! Psalm 119:1

All wonder and worship can only grow out of smallness. – Ann Voskamp

Expectations kill relationships. –Ann Voskamp’s momma

Yep. No one can live up to the glossy ad campaigns that fill the in-basket of our mind.

And I pretty much skimmed right over the Happy is the one whose walk is blameless the first and second time through the Scripture reading. Blameless seemed like such a ridiculous word.

And yet two things:

It is the key to happiness.

And it is what He died for, that was the purpose, that I might be blameless and happy.

I mean, God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not holding anyone’s faults against them, but entrusted to us the message of reconciliation. 2 Corinthians 5:19

So what happened?

I have gotten all tangled and tripped up in the Accuser’s web. Totally bound up holding faults.

How can I receive his free gift of blamelessness when I am so busy reiterating the sins done unto me?

 Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful. Judge not, and ye shall not be judged: condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned: forgive, and ye shall be forgiven: Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again. Luke 6: 36-38

With the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again.

And today, once again, we will celebrate the Eucharist together, at Imago Dei. Each of us His Image-bearers will sit quietly together and confess our sins. But beforehand, I must be reconciled with my brother. Release him and her from the bleak prison of my expectations.

Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.

Release myself.

And

Release God from my sharp pointy prison of expectations.

And then, and only then, may I offer up my gifts of thanksgiving and worship.

And receive His free gift of blamelessness.

Happy are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God.

Or maybe just slinging that book bag over my shoulder.

Come now and look upon the works of the LORD, what awesome things He has done on earth. Psalm 46:9

And over and over again, Ann Voskamp talks about eucharisteo before the miracle. And today for some reason folks were looking at a post written long ago from an ocean of pain… a song of praise was in my heart, however, sort of. Mostly I am trying to make it up the next hill with just a trace of praise under my breath.

Holy, holy, holy.

And the next day we rolled our bicycles into Mondoñedo over the muscle-jouncing cobbled stones and saw the mighty power and love of God take hold and heal mightily and angels bumbled out of the side roads and comforted me and Nicole shared a vision of a light tower and crashing waves that pierced the souls of all who were present.

And this is not a make-believe fairy tale we are spinning.

That is the point of all of these monuments, the Joshua stones set by the river. Remember when we saw and held and tasted His goodness? 1000 gifts upon 1000 gifts. And if He showed Himself as powerful love yesterday, as He pressed our daily bread into our outstretched hand, will He not show Himself yet again?

Today my predawn gratitude was for the grace of the glowing eastern horizon, new every morning, His faithfulness.

And the Monday night ladies all told stories as we sat by a crackling fire and sipped our tea. Stories of pain and brokenness and even hopelessness.

What to think when staring circumstance straight into its blood-shot eyes?

We were all gripped last night by the image of when we look back, we see God’s back. In the blackest, God is closest, at work, forging His perfect and right will. Then he will remove His hand. Then we will look.

Then we will look back and see His back.

But belief is not simply mental assent. Even the demons believe. Belief is a verb, something that you do. It is not something conjured up through sheer willpower. Rather is it hiding spies under a pile of straw. Taking that step into that raging river. Leaping off of that storm-tossed boat. Picking up the bed and walking. Obedience.

Faith without works is dead.

And the first act of faith is to give thanks, sight unseen.

Out loud, with words.

How do you count on life when the hopes don’t add up?

The hopes don’t have to add up. The blessings do.

Jesus replied this is the work (service) that God asks of you: that you believe in the One Whom He has sent (that you cleave to, trust, rely on, and have faith in His Messenger) John 6:29 AMP

Voskamp continues: That is my daily work, the work God asks of me? To trust. The work I shirk. To trust in the Son, to trust in the wisdom of this moment, to trust in now. And trust is that: work. The work of trusting love. Intentional and focused.

Eucharisteo always precedes the miracle, child.

Beloved child.