"Understand, then, that it would have healed her; but not to your joy or hers. The day would have come when both you and she would have looked back and said it would have been better to die in that illness."
   And Digory could say nothing, for tears choked him and he gave up all hopes of saving his Mother's life; but at the same time he knew that the Lion knew what would have happened, and that there might be things more terrible even than losing someone you love by death.
The Magician's Nephew
C. S. Lewis

Whose Image?

Ivan Albright
American, 1897-1983
And Man Created God in His Own Image 
1930-31

Sometimes I have to push myself away from the computer and this week was one of them. I not talking because I spent too much time reading, however true that may be, but due to statements 'religious' leaders make, and a subsequent rise in blood pressure.  Case in point,  Pat Robertson's recent statement (or if you'd rather read a short  transcript). The two articles below give adequate arguments, and one, a poignant example of the absurdity of Robertson's position especially as a follower of Christ. You can read some responses here and here. In many ways these arguments point further back, to a loving God, who created humans, in His image. And created them 'very good'. Consider the implications of that for a minute...or two...or sixty. Needless to say we are no longer in that blissful pre-fall state. But we still retain His image, although marred by sin which shows up in the form of Alzheimers (and no I don't mean this person was curse with Alzheimers because of some sin committed), of seeking justification to divorce the spouse stricken with it and of encouraging others to feel justified in doing so.  When we look at one another, we should see the image of God.  We are ministering to Christ, who is the very image of God, when we wipe the chin of our loved one who no longer recognizes us. But when we refused to care for those suffering, it is not just because we choose to ignore His image in them, it's because we also choose to ignore His image when we look in the mirror. We seek to shape ourselves into what we think we should be, have the life we are entitled to, and so recreate our parents fall.  We fault the suffering for making us miserable, ugly.  We believe in finding relief from suffering, our lives will be as they were 'supposed' to be, but it is, at best, a temporary respite. The refusing to enter into the suffering shapes us, but not into His image. His image, His character, patiently pursues us with long-suffering, when we don't, can't, or won't respond. Suffering He willingly accepted. Suffering that led to His death and resurrection. He asks that we join Him there, because He know better than all, how that shapes His image in us.

G.O.S.P.E.L.

G.O.S.P.E.L. from Humble Beast Records on Vimeo.

Cooler days and nights, day's clear blue noon sky, evening sun with its rays angled, turning all to gold...the coming of  Fall. Not sure why but for some reason it always brings out the homemaker in me. I cook ahead, bring out the old fall decor and attempt a few new to add to the collection, and for some reason in the far corners of my mind,  "all is safely gathered in, 'ere the winter storm begins", plays quietly.The collage shows my attempts over the past few days to do just that... just knowing that a few things are done to bring 'glory and beauty' (thanks for the reminder, Chris) to our home encourages me to be grateful for so much in my life. Being prepared, both actively and passively, seem to foster that gratitude. Sometimes you prepare and know why you are preparing , sometimes you are prepared unknowingly and for a task that hasn't entered your thoughts; God prepares us in ways we don't recognize. And while preparation is important, our women's Bible study reminded me of something far more important. Our study of Joseph serving in Egypt emphasized the point that God was with him, and Joseph, having plenty of time, recognized this. So it is with His people.  The reminder came just in time...a dear friend was diagnosed with breast cancer. Yep, the 'C' word. But, caught early.  She, I, our families and friends are prepared, but more importantly we know God is with us. And in the days to come we hope to attentively recognize how He is with us, as well as, taking the time to remember,  it is not because of ourselves, or what we have or haven't done, but because He say so.   And that in and of itself is our preparation and enables us to sing.

Come, ye thankful people, come,
Raise the song of harvest-home:
All is safely gathered in,
Ere the winter storms begin;
God, our Maker, doth provide
For our wants to be supplied:
Come to God's own temple, come,
Raise the song of harvest-home.

Reflection

Broken mirror

Shatters,

Cuts,

Lives.

Ground

returned

To  dust.

  

One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully, Right Where You Are
 

“I watch the hands move grace on the clock face. I’m growing older. These children growing up. But time is not running out. This day is not a sieve, losing time. With each passing minute, each passing year, there’s this deepening awareness that I am filling time, gaining time. We stand on the brink of eternity.”~ Ann Voskamp

Providence on Parade

I yell.

Frustration, short temper starts the day and tears fall.

I wound her once again with my words, with my anger, with my tone.  Sowing seeds of discord. Over something easily explained, something, anything, that threatens to unleash an eruption of fears, worries that have boiled near the surface, making us both feel unsteady.

On the drive to school, more talk, forgiveness and grace, that which she incarnates, is given.

Still... confusion, how did we get here, where do we go. The groaning of swift prayers.

While we wait, the wind picks up and scatters a teacher's papers, she misses a few, doesn't see them under her car. I walk over, stoop to gather them for her. Warmly she thanks me and holds them up to share. "Are you familiar with this Sunday insert?" I smile, nod yes... memories flood back, read it every Sunday afternoon growing up, short articles, puzzles, interviews. She turns to show me what she has read, "There is a wonderful article on how this age thinks and why seeing,understanding can be difficult, not impossible, just difficult. We still need to expect, just not become frustrated."

I'm aware of the sun for the first time that day. "So timely..." I say, but  think..."How quickly You answer at times."

He sees and understands what I do not. He is not frustrated, neither is His Work. 

Oh Lord, let me follow You, learn Your patience, learn Your trust.

Awestruck at His provision, why am I surprised that He has been working long before I knew the need?

Humbled, Grateful for His mercy, for His work, for His patience I wonder why do humility and awe seem to till the soil deeper than my futile efforts?

Perhaps these are places of worship that grow rest, quiet, trust