This afternoon I was flooded with the sense that my life is about to change forever.
I don't know what that means. It wasn't coupled with a sense of foreboding or even anticipation. It just was. In all its murky fogginess.
Hmm...
blog
i use my words
This afternoon I was flooded with the sense that my life is about to change forever.
I don't know what that means. It wasn't coupled with a sense of foreboding or even anticipation. It just was. In all its murky fogginess.
Hmm...
Some great quotes on courage from Andy Stanley's Next Generation Leader.
It is a sad thing indeed when I'm excited that I only have 88 emails to answer. But considering that 3 hours ago that number was 212, I take heart in my progress!
I love the book of Isaiah. I recently told a friend that I can (and often do) just camp out there. Isaiah 61 has always been significant to me, for many reasons; and God led me there again this week.
As I mulled over the words, it quickly became a prayer for myself...and for a friend. And while I wouldn't normally do this, I felt impressed to share my written prayer here. In some ways, there's freedom in sharing it. But mostly I just have a sense that it's for someone else, too...
I pray...
That God would bind up our broken hearts (from wounds inflicted by others as well as ourselves)
Pronounce freedom into every part of our lives where we are held captive (by sin, fear, self)
Shine His light into every corner where darkness still resides within us (as scary as that may be)
Speak His unswerving, undeserved favor over our lives (for apart from it, we can do nothing)
Comfort us in our grief (over the big and the small)
Give us beauty for our ashes (for I know I have many)
Flood us with joyous blessing to wash away our mourning (over losses both significant and minute)
Clothe us with garments of praise (covering us head to toe) as He takes away the spirit of heaviness and despair (an amazing exchange)
Make us oaks of righteousness, planted by Him to display His splendor (rooted firmly, strong, unmovable)
Amen.
Because of a friend's recent realization about her passion for writing, I've been thinking a lot lately about how much I enjoy it. Writing, that is. This morning, I was reminded that God is the author and finisher of my faith. I pondered that fact. Author of my faith. Author of me.
He is writing my story. And I'm watching it unfold before my eyes. Watching the path appear before my feet. (I have a mental picture of walking into nothingness, but just as each foot is lifted to take a step, the next bit of paved path appears... Written into existence.)
He is the perfect author. He needs no editor. He needs no second draft. He needs no backspace. He writes it perfectly the first time.
Author and finisher. No abandoned writing projects. No half-hearted attempts. No arms-in-the-air, "I quit!" moments. He finishes what He starts. Completely. Thoroughly. He is writing my story till the end. There are many chapters I have yet to see, but they are there.
As much as I love to write, God loves it even more. He was the first to do it. And He's the best at it.
Combine His love for writing with His love for me, and you get my name written on the palms of His hands. Leaves me wordless...