Tuesday, June 16, 2015
The Garden. THOSE were the good ol' days but we never realized it. Those were the days before violence, before hatred and murder, anger and selfishness. There was no doubt, no knowledge of evil. No bloodshed no sickness, no suffering of any kind. All was only good, all the time. But it wasn't enough. We wanted more--more knowledge, more power, more experience, no limits. And so we traded perfection for these: Brokenness, thorns, pain, sadness, death, and the perversion of eve...rything good. The first humans chose this and we continue to choose it--surrounded by all the beauty and glory of God's creation, we choose independence from Him. We choose war and disregard Him who made it all for our good. We treat others, made in His image, worse than animals enslaving and selling children for vile pleasure. How far we've wandered away from the Garden! Claiming to be wise, we've become fools and exchanged the glory of God for corruptible, temporal pursuits! And yet there burns this spark of hope, this sense that things ought not be this way. We long for innocence for our children, safety for our sons and daughters, peace for our souls, a return to beauty. That's what God offers us in Christ--a one way ticket back to The Garden, back to Him. We can look at all that is happening around us and KNOW that we are on our way. This place is not our Home. This is how I am encouraging MYSELF today, June 16, 2015. There is hope, dear friends. There is hope for me and for you, for our children and grandchildren. We cannot fix this ourselves. No amount of cosmetic surgery or propping up of the broken system will make it better. Our job is to be a preservative of the good that remains and a light that points to the Only Solution. He is all. There is nothing else. Come quickly, Lord Jesus
Monday, June 15, 2015
A tall glass of iced tea, the roar of the lawnmower, chicken soup bubbling on the stove, the yeasty smell of bread rising, sheets gently waving from the clothesline
Sipping coffee on the back porch this morning, watching the animals. The cat is laying with her head tucked under the wicker arm of the loveseat watching the chickens. I can see the rapid rise and fall of her rib cage as her breathing quickens with the movement of the birds. She is fascinated, but scared of them (fraidy-cat) and they are nervous (chicken) about her presence. Mimzy's pupils dilate, her tail twitches. The chickens move about the grass, pecking here and there at things I can't see--purring, clucking, and growling at one another. All of a sudden, one of them thinks that the hen on the opposite side of the yard has found something good and races across the lawn, wings poised for take-off that never comes. False alarm. Heart rates return to normal. Time for a second cuppa coffee
Ahhhh...the end of a perfectly ORDINARY day. The sun is soft, casting lengthening shadows on the freshly clipped lawn. The ceiling fan is singing it's own lopsided song over my head and I can see the platties and mollies in the aquarium next to me darting about, ever hopeful that I'll sprinkle food their way. The smell of grilled salmon lingers, mixed with the heavy scent of cut flowers. My shoulders are tired, in a good way, after a routine day of puttering about. I am thank...ful for a house to clean, a yard to groom, and strength to work. Tonight I will wash my dirty feet in the tub before I flop onto crisp sheets and a billowy down comforter edged in eyelet. A box fan will blow the cool evening air through the window filling the bedroom with a perfect sleeping temperature. Mimzy will stretch out, fluffy tummy-side-up at the foot of the bed. I can relax as darkness falls, knowing that God is at work on my behalf--morning, noon, and night. I am secure in the shadow of the wings of the Almighty.
"God provides for His own. It is pointless to get up early, work hard, and go to bed late anxiously laboring for food to eat; for God provides for those He loves, even while they are sleeping." Psalm 127:2 (The Voice)