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Showing posts from October, 2016

a new song

this is not who I am this old sin-song I sing a lingering melody I did not pen and it did not pin me against myself in Christ—I am free in Christ—I am me a whole creation from the start I was living with a broken heart in a world with a imperfect melody its sin-sick song sang over me a lullaby that kept me free from the true freedom to be found in the silence of a hushed crowd straining to hear a new sound of a freedom song, sung by Grace herself a melody to truly set me free a freedom found apart from me the shattered self I thought I had to be made whole by a new song forever being sung over me by the God who made me whole from the start broken by the sin of man’s first heart set ablaze a wildfire of destruction descending into every generation made whole, again, by a fountain of blood an elixir of life found in one man’s death and again in mine dying to the brokenness I’d resigned to function as everyone else alike ma...

poppy fields

Image
“We will always stop for beauty, in whatever form it takes.  “These arose old memories of how God intended it to be. It is true that we can become accustomed to everything being out of kilter. Children come to believe that parental violence or abusive discipline is normal, but they still have hope for something else. We recognize the vestiges of what is right in our world, and we intuitively know when something isn’t. We might not know how to make it right, but we know the things that disrupt peace.”—from Running Scared: Fear, Worry, and the God of Rest by Edward Welch As I read these words, I immediately pictured in my mind a field of poppies, an image a friend had given me as she prayed for me a few nights ago-- I saw a picture with your hair down in a beautiful field of poppies at sunset, stopping to take time to smell and enjoy them. You were alone, but it was a beautiful picture. I think the Father is so happy you take time to notice and enjoy His beauty. And with ...