A friend reminded me recently that God does in fact give good gifts to his children. I usually find that statement a little too tainted with Prosperity Gospel to see its truth, but you know what - once in a while life provides so many examples of God's work that it is hard to say otherwise.
Here's some proof of this summer's good gifts [not to mention that God has at last provided direction and peace about the future]:
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
“Lord of the waters, you have set us adrift in a trackless ocean, in a leaky boat with no oars or rudder. “Rudderless” nicely describes our situation, but matters are worse. Even if we had a rudder, we would not know which direction to go. We are not even sure if there are any directions—or if there are any directions, we so distrust our wants that we do not know which way we really want to go. In short, we feel lost and, so feeling, think it is probably your fault. Yet you refuse to let us drown in self-pity and blame. Instead you drown us in your good kingdom, the death and resurrection of Jesus our Lord, making us part of that great ark, your church. The winds of your love blow that ark out to sea, away from the shores we think might provide safety, so that we might take on board the drowning. How wonderful it is that the more that are taken on board, the less your ark is crowded and the safer we are. Thank you for making us steady sailors who have no reason to fear the unknown, having learned you would have us be at sea. Amen.”
-Stanley Hauerwas, from Prayers Plainly Spoken
the easter roll - film from this year's paschal celebrations:
[april 20, 2014]
Posted by Heather at 10:02 AM
Saturday, November 16, 2013
The Love of Morning
It is hard sometimes to drag ourselves
back to the love of morning
after we've lain in the dark crying out
O God, save us from the horror . . .
God has saved the worldone more day
even with its leaden burden of human evil;
we wake to birdsong.
And if sunlight's gossamer lifts in its net
the weight of all that is solid,
our hearts, too, are lifted,
swung like laughing infants;
but on gray mornings,
all incident — our own hunger,
the dear tasks of continuance,
the footsteps before us in the earth's
beloved dust, leading the way — all,
is hard to love again
for we resent a summons
that disregards our sloth, and this
calls us, calls us.
-Denise Levertov, "The Love of Morning"
Reposted from this dear friend's blog
Posted by Heather at 5:41 AM