Moments of Quiet Truth

     H ow do you live, when you don't know what's next? How do you go forward when so much is uncertain? How do you live when the things you desire so strongly have been placed in front of you, you've tasted them, and they've been pulled away? How do you pursue things that might fail, backfire, or be completely turned around, that might never happen?      Submission. Submission to a God who knows what He's doing and who loves you soooooo much.      Trust - trust that life isn't greener on the other side of the fence, that He is not nor will not withhold ANYTHING good, best, incredibly, tailor-made perfect from you. Trust that you lack NO GOOD THING, that your Heavenly Father knows what you will and do have need of before you and that He knows how he will meet those needs while you're seeking His kingdom.      Truth - hard, ragged, sandpaper-rough truth. What does God want me to be doing right now? Truth that He sticks closer than a brother and He und

A heart once broken by sin, set free by grace. Lord, fill with Your love this now empty place. Contrite and humbled, Lord help me see Your love, sufficient, poured into me. You gave sight to these once proud, blind eyes, Shone in Your light, made me more wise, Showed me my sin, loved me with grace. You have forgiv'n. I give you praise.

     N oise - w hen life fills with it - when you fill your life with it, what is it really, other than the desperate efforts to fill a void? There a  hole inside - a deep inescapable hole at my core - a hole that can only be filled with the now of the goodness of God. There is a craving for peace and rock-solid security that can only be filled in stillness.   "He drew me up out of the pit of [noise] and out of the [slippery places], and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure." Ps. 40:2      I am so prone to thrash about and desire circumstances that suit me. I am so often short-sighted and pursue life through the tunnel-vision that is my own understanding. I miss the " new song" (Ps. 40:3). I blindly walk past "the song of praise to my God." Ps. 40:3. I ignore His goodness, His trustworthiness - the God who has been "my help in ages past, my hope for years to come." I meditate on imagined conversations instead of living in the bless

     H ow do you respond when you fail? What do you think about God? How do you view others? Do you blame them or seek to look at them through the eyes of grace? One song that has been going through my head these past few days focuses on the goodness and mercies of God - something I'm better realizing how constantly am in need of - is "There's a Wideness in God's Mercy," by Frederick Faber: " There's a wideness in God's mercy, Like the wideness of the sea. There's a kindness in His justice, Which is more than liberty. There's a welcome for the sinner, And more graces for [us all]. There is mercy with the Savior; There is healing, there is healing in His blood. But we make His love too narrow, By false limits of our own. And we magnify His strictness With a zeal He will not own. For the love of God is broader  Than the measure of one's mind, And the heart of the Eternal  Is most wonderfully kind. If our love were but

     W hen you don't feel like writing because of the imperfections and fallings, the roots you've tripped over recently as you've chosen sin and self over love, in that time - write grace. Write grace that is bigger and wider and kinder and sweeter than any recluse or enemy of God ever deserved.       When you feel small, when you're hurting heart-hurts and soul-pains - write grace. When you don't want to be out in front for fear that people will see the wreck that you are - write grace and trust and following in obedience the road He lays before you right now. Wait. for. Him.      When others have hurt you by their sin and weakness and you have hurt them right back - write grace. Run to your Abba and let the cleansing blood rush over your nakedness, need, and lack. When you're worn down and wasted out and the earthen pot that is your life lies dust-filled and dry, run to your Abba and let Him fill you with the ocean of His love and life. Cry into His arm

" I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. . . .       H ow precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I would count them, they are more than the sand. I awake, and I am still with you." Ps. 139:14, 17-18      I am learning what it means to go to the Scripture and have it renew my mind. The security His truth brings is so stabilizing.  "O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;" Ps. 63:1a "Let them thank the LORD for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of men!"  Ps. 107:8,15,21,31 "For your steadfast love is great above the heavens; your faithfulness reaches to the clouds." Ps. 108:4 "O, the deep, deep love of Jesus,  Vast, unmeasured, boundless, free!  Rolling as a mighty ocean,  In it's fullness over me!  Underneath me, all around me,  Is the current of Thy love!  Leading onward, leading ho

A bba, Inside a tempest rages. The winds of confusion are blowing strong; The waves of man's opinions are crashing over the boat. Give me peace. I can't see the shore. A bba, I want to please You. I want to serve You. Show me which way to turn. What should I think? What should I pursue? Give me peace. I can't see the shore. A bba, My skiff is tiny and the sea is vast. The currents pull from all sides. I am content to go on alone And ride the waves until this storm is over, Only let me go with You. Give me grace. Give me peace, When I can't see the shore. A bba, You are my Hiding Place. You are my Peace, my Rock, my Anchor; You are the Eye of the storm, And the storm is in Your hand. You are the Answer to my cries for mercy. You are my Contentment and my Strength. Let me follow You to shore. " Peace, peace, be still. . . .. . .. "

S hakespeare wrote that ". . .Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. . ." {Sonnet 116) We live because there is that kind of love - there must be. There is a driving need, a passion, at the core of our being for that kind of love - a love that does not change and does not fail. A love that looks us square in the face, knows all about us, and is unswervingly constant to us. We strive for, search for, seek for a love that is as broad and deep as the sea and as limitless as the sky. Our very lives depend on its existence. Wh

In the quiet, and pieces of orange In the small moments of quiet, A beauty glimmers in the stillness - Pieces of orange on the sidewalk. Fallen leaves, gently blown by the breeze, Skittering across the pathway And proclaiming, quietly, the beauty of a Creator Who asked them to die. They did not chose to have their comfort severed from them; They did not chose the distance from which they fell, But they fell without complaint, without refusal. They simply fell. They simply died. Why do I not simply fall, Simply trust the Hands That perfectly and wonderfully made me? Why do I not fall back into the Hands that love me As no other Being can love? What lies do I believe when I fight those nail-pierced Hands, When I push them away? "You will always live consistently with what you truly believe." James teaches us. You find yourself at odds with this One who only gives good and perfect gifts When you confront Him in pride, When you fight. You mar Hi

" O L ORD, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me.  But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.  O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forevermore ."                                                                                                                      Psalm 131 " A ll worrying is a desperate wanting of my own way." -Ann Voskamp      " B e still. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .and know that I am God ." Ps. 46:10      How often is my heart lifted up, how often I strive to understand God, and why? Why do I seek to manipulate circumstances because they best please me? Why me? What have I done to be proud of? " In my flesh dwells no good thing." Rom. 7:18 When I have the One who orchestrates the flow of eternity guiding the course of my rivulet of