Love cried out
from behind
a stone.
Propelled from
midst of
rock,
Upright and
walking
resplendent,
Having stood,
hung,
died.
Now alive!
Salvation assured,
Life set free.
No more,
that old sin
now clean.
HE
holds out hope
and eternity-home.
we must
make
the decision
to receive it....
p palermo, April 24, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
What I Survey
Have I gazed upon the Cross today?
Before me, a plaster cross embossed with scrollwork, rubbed rough at it's edges, almost white, almost shining.
There is the cross made of many broken pieces, blue and jagged. Rusted cross, bronze cross..
Another stacked , spikelike nails held together, burnt black, painted over gold...
But...have I looked upon the Cross today?
Golden chains innocently holding a small Italian cross made of blue bits,
Long silver chain, heavy, whose lone decoration, large silver cross, rose covered..
a bracelet, dangles one single cross,
another holds twelve, all designs of different crosses..
But...Have I contempleated the Cross today?
My heart looks wildly at the Calvary Cross, the Cross of all Crosses..the one with a Savior upon it.
My eyes have a hard time keeping their gaze for violence, blood, agony, torture..
Yet fixing my eyes on the Man there, the Savior, the Crucified Lamb....
I can look upon HIM because He is and was and had looked upon me. He saw me as I was, am and will be and He died for me anyway, no holds barred.
HIS sacrifice...the LAMB of GOD who takes away the sins of the world.
How about you, have you turned your face toward the cross today? any day?
Yes, it is hard and long ago, but the beauty still is in the love bled pure over arms of innocence...His crime was love and forgiveness. He is more than an expletive, more than a character...He was more than enough.
Enough forgiveness for us all, no one can contain His love...His grace, His mercy...though on this earth, He was shown none.
When I survey the wonderous cross,
on which the Prince of Glory died,
my richest gain I count but loss
and pour contempt on all my pride.
See from His head, His hands, His feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e're such love and sorrow meet?
Or thorns compose so rich a crown.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
Save in the death of Christ, my king.
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That was a present far too small.
Love so amazing , so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
Isaac Watts, 1707
Before me, a plaster cross embossed with scrollwork, rubbed rough at it's edges, almost white, almost shining.
There is the cross made of many broken pieces, blue and jagged. Rusted cross, bronze cross..
Another stacked , spikelike nails held together, burnt black, painted over gold...
But...have I looked upon the Cross today?
Golden chains innocently holding a small Italian cross made of blue bits,
Long silver chain, heavy, whose lone decoration, large silver cross, rose covered..
a bracelet, dangles one single cross,
another holds twelve, all designs of different crosses..
But...Have I contempleated the Cross today?
My heart looks wildly at the Calvary Cross, the Cross of all Crosses..the one with a Savior upon it.
My eyes have a hard time keeping their gaze for violence, blood, agony, torture..
Yet fixing my eyes on the Man there, the Savior, the Crucified Lamb....
I can look upon HIM because He is and was and had looked upon me. He saw me as I was, am and will be and He died for me anyway, no holds barred.
HIS sacrifice...the LAMB of GOD who takes away the sins of the world.
How about you, have you turned your face toward the cross today? any day?
Yes, it is hard and long ago, but the beauty still is in the love bled pure over arms of innocence...His crime was love and forgiveness. He is more than an expletive, more than a character...He was more than enough.
Enough forgiveness for us all, no one can contain His love...His grace, His mercy...though on this earth, He was shown none.
When I survey the wonderous cross,
on which the Prince of Glory died,
my richest gain I count but loss
and pour contempt on all my pride.
See from His head, His hands, His feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e're such love and sorrow meet?
Or thorns compose so rich a crown.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
Save in the death of Christ, my king.
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That was a present far too small.
Love so amazing , so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
Isaac Watts, 1707
Thursday, April 21, 2011
The Servant King
The evening meal was being served, and the devil had already prompted Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under His power, and that He had come from God and was returning to God, so He got up from the meal, took off His outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around His waist. After that, He poured water into a basin and began to wash His disciples feet,...John 13:2-5
I love this passage. It speaks volumes about the Christ I love. He knew His authority given Him by His Father. He knew where He had come from. He knew where He was to return. When I reflect on His way to the cross, His purpose for coming, His sacrificial death, it is difficult to sit and ponder so great a step toward such suffering.
Knowing where we have come from keeps us aware of what formed us to be who we are.
Knowing where we are going, our final destination, spurs us on toward that arrival. Suffering and joy and all that entails come with the journey.
Christ's examples are innumerable, but this one helps me realize that His love for His Father, His obedience and selfless ambition, were coupled with this knowledge.
Do I set my face toward my ultimate destination, my heavenly home? Do I let that fact overshadow all others? If so, I should be quite at home taking up the towel, starting my journey, "taking the very nature of a servant." My prayer is that I will fill my basin with living water and begin.
I love this passage. It speaks volumes about the Christ I love. He knew His authority given Him by His Father. He knew where He had come from. He knew where He was to return. When I reflect on His way to the cross, His purpose for coming, His sacrificial death, it is difficult to sit and ponder so great a step toward such suffering.
Knowing where we have come from keeps us aware of what formed us to be who we are.
Knowing where we are going, our final destination, spurs us on toward that arrival. Suffering and joy and all that entails come with the journey.
Christ's examples are innumerable, but this one helps me realize that His love for His Father, His obedience and selfless ambition, were coupled with this knowledge.
Do I set my face toward my ultimate destination, my heavenly home? Do I let that fact overshadow all others? If so, I should be quite at home taking up the towel, starting my journey, "taking the very nature of a servant." My prayer is that I will fill my basin with living water and begin.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
The Breeze is Blowing
Knew this was a special day, a glimpse of the wren dressing her nest with baby's breath from my deck. The titmouse fumbling for twigs through the dead thyme, still hanging from the green clay pot. Signs of preparation for birth all around. Nesting. It's a sure sign of spring.
Two weeks ago, I thought I knew spring, but then ignoring the weather, I awoke to all my wisteria buds having died in the 31 degree night air. That broke my heart. I've grieved over it and grieved some more. It does not bring them back to life. But I must go on. So today, with blue painting the sky, clouds forming with no threat intended, breeze blowing hair and gently cooling the sun's strong rays, I found it was time to be proactive. The pine straw needed to be pulled back to give the beds a time of warming, exposing any new growth I may have missed. The rain induced creek exposes new rocks. I love to look over the offering, fresh revelations of earths inner self. Today I spied something sparkling and muddied my shoes to retrieve it. A six inch piece, fossilized wasp nest covered in crystals the size of sea salt. Taking it to it's new home, It finds itself now a part of my adultified rock collection masquerading as a flower bed border. Having started the rock hunt, I find a large one I can actually carry and place it outside the fence where Rosey, the Big Red, the one with paws outstretched under the fence. The one who has dug up all of one bed and carried a blackberry bush, fresh from the fence, now uprooted and in a million pieces. That Rosey tries to quickly remove any clay I dig up as if she has a project that might require it. All of this attention done from the inside of the fence where I am out. The activity is witnessed by the white fluff dog, Callie, whose goal is to bark continuously while the rest of the world is having a peaceful day. The clay-grabber and the incessant barker...my companions as I enjoy all of the glories of spring and it's promise of more and more of the same...for me and for them. Gong inside, looking out my window, I spy one lone wisteria blossom dangling like an earring on the arbor. It's a fine sight. One beauty. One survivor. What a way to start a season. Joy all around. Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad;.... Let the field be joyful, and all that is in it. Then all the trees of the woods will rejoice before the Lord. For He is coming.... Psalm 96:11a-13a
Two weeks ago, I thought I knew spring, but then ignoring the weather, I awoke to all my wisteria buds having died in the 31 degree night air. That broke my heart. I've grieved over it and grieved some more. It does not bring them back to life. But I must go on. So today, with blue painting the sky, clouds forming with no threat intended, breeze blowing hair and gently cooling the sun's strong rays, I found it was time to be proactive. The pine straw needed to be pulled back to give the beds a time of warming, exposing any new growth I may have missed. The rain induced creek exposes new rocks. I love to look over the offering, fresh revelations of earths inner self. Today I spied something sparkling and muddied my shoes to retrieve it. A six inch piece, fossilized wasp nest covered in crystals the size of sea salt. Taking it to it's new home, It finds itself now a part of my adultified rock collection masquerading as a flower bed border. Having started the rock hunt, I find a large one I can actually carry and place it outside the fence where Rosey, the Big Red, the one with paws outstretched under the fence. The one who has dug up all of one bed and carried a blackberry bush, fresh from the fence, now uprooted and in a million pieces. That Rosey tries to quickly remove any clay I dig up as if she has a project that might require it. All of this attention done from the inside of the fence where I am out. The activity is witnessed by the white fluff dog, Callie, whose goal is to bark continuously while the rest of the world is having a peaceful day. The clay-grabber and the incessant barker...my companions as I enjoy all of the glories of spring and it's promise of more and more of the same...for me and for them. Gong inside, looking out my window, I spy one lone wisteria blossom dangling like an earring on the arbor. It's a fine sight. One beauty. One survivor. What a way to start a season. Joy all around. Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad;.... Let the field be joyful, and all that is in it. Then all the trees of the woods will rejoice before the Lord. For He is coming.... Psalm 96:11a-13a
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