We Dream

“When the Lord brought back [a]the captive ones of Zion,
We were like those who dream.
Then our mouth was filled with laughter
And our tongue with joyful shouting;
Then they said among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for them.”
The Lord has done great things for us;
We are glad.”  Psalm 126: 1-4

From captivity, that which holds us back …

We dreamed … and we dream,

We laughed … and we laugh,

We were joyful … and we are joyful,

We know that God has done good things for us … and will do good things for us,

We were glad … and we are glad.

 

 

 

 

NEW photos of my week and a short Sunday sermon

I was blessed by this post, and I believe you will also. Otherwise I would not have reblogged this. Peace.

Explore Newness

driedrosecollage

Happy Sunday!  You know, one of the great things about buying myself roses, is that I get to photography them while they’re fresh (previous post) and then again when they’re all dried up!

I recently visited a NEW online art exhibit, all of paintings of Christ…His childhood, His ministry and the Last Supper. This is one of my favorites by Laurie Olson Lisonbee  (Here’s the link to the gallery)

jesuswashingfeet

Jesus wanted the Twelve—and He wants each of us—to learn that humility and service are worthy characteristics we should seek to obtain. He taught that no one is too important to serve others.

Have a great day!

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The Hand of God

‘Stumbled on to this post, from 2013 … from a Canadian author, Melanie Jean Juneau, entitled The Hand of God. I felt that this post needed to be reblogged on my blog, as it resonates with my heart and soul. Visit her blog to read other posts.

joy of nine9

It’s Yongsung Kim. To contact the artist directly, email taimen@naver.com (I did a search, and I’m emailing the artist, too!!) from Amanda!!

   Detail from The Creation of Adam Sistine Chapel ceiling

 Hand of God – Sculpture by Lorenzo Quinn

Hands with Stigmata, depicted on  Franciscan church in Lienz, Austria

                          

TheHandOfGod

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Something Is Wrong . . .

Something

… is wrong, and yes … some things are right.

And, yes: there will always be something wrong.

And, yes: there will always be some things that are right.

For some reason, maybe I know what that reason is, I sensed the strong pull to take time out of the bedlam to acknowledge that something is wrong.  By acknowledging that something is wrong, I am brought back to that daily choice of pursuing what is good, pushing through resistance, being thankful for the Father’s presence, in spite of what is wrong.

  • I don’t ask for enough;
  • I don’t pray very often;
  • I don’t spend as much time with my son as I would like …

Such a small list.  And yet, that kind of list is not what I should focus intently on.

There are many good things.  And I think that’s enough for today.

Twenty-eight things are wrong with this picture. Can you spot them ? I think this is meant for children, but nevertheless it’s not that easy.

 

 

 

 

Hell’s Concierge

When I read this post, I felt compelled to reblog this. Through my own eyes, and through the experience of sitting with many folks in recovery, I felt like this writer brings it to the table: freedom from addiction, in the context of intense battle, being aware of “Hell’s Concierce”. Peace, T

Not This Song

It’s so easy to get caught up in life and forget that I’m an addict. When other troubles are acting up, or someone I love is hurting, I can slip away from the vigilance needed.

It’s also easy, and deadly, to get caught up in results–to fall into dissatisfaction when life is getting harder and not easier. It’s easy for me to flirt with despair when my mental health symptoms rob my life in recovery of health and joy. It’s easy to feel that I’m on a trip to a city that’s not living up to my hopes, having spent too much and not having a good enough time. To feel lonely and bored in my metaphorical hotel room.

That’s when it’s tempting to pick up that handy phone and press the button for the concierge. The gentleman or lady who can get things, recommend activities, obtain tickets or otherwise…

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Mom’s Day: Joy, Celebration, Ambivalence

Mom’s Day. Joy.  Celebration.  Ambivalence.  A fine line,  Ambivalence.  I could drift into “my stuff”, my baggage,  my blues.  With age, my awareness of that fine line grows.  Grappling continues, with ambivalence, even with my awareness.  One explanation, for “ambivalence”, came through a lecture.

“Ambivalence is the existence of two mutually exclusive emotions, concepts, realities, truths.”

I worked in a residential program, guys struggling with their substance abuse addictions, many overwhelmed with ambivalence.  Good example: a man who has been drinking whiskey and beer for the previous twenty years says this: “On one hand, I know I need to be here in this residential program, because I must quit drinking!  On the other hand, I hate this place, and I want nothing more than to sit in my favorite bar over on Colfax and drink some beers.”  Ambivalence: ‘something dichotomous happening.  I appreciate dichotomy, for the most part.  Proverbs has dichotomy going on. Example, from the 4th chapter, one amidst many (18-19):

The ways of right-living people glow with light;
    the longer they live, the brighter they shine.
But the road of wrongdoing gets darker and darker—
    travelers can’t see a thing; they fall flat on their faces.                  

Proverbs has this rhythm-thing going on which comes across like this: Wisdom this, folly that.  Righteous this, unrighteous thatRhythm.  There is rhythm in Proverbs.  Back to ambivalence.  Here it isSunday morning, at my desk, staring out the window at the white precipitation coming down hard, part of the 6-12 inches that Weatherman is calling for.  My daughter with a sore throat, my wife under the weather, I know that our normal routine is a church we go to which connects with our souls.  I am not legalistic and feel like I have to be at church.  It’s about me and the fam wanting to be at church.

What’s my point?  About Mom’s Day, joy, ambivalence?  I am joyed, over the top, by my wise and elegant wife.  I cooked  breakfast for my bride, and brought it to her in bed.  Ambivalence is sprinkled here and there as if sprinkled out of a spice-bottle.  I have been a long-term depressive, continually contemptuous of my lack of excellence and achievement in this arcane world. This all connects with the reality that I sometimes look into my wife’s eyes and am sad.  I am sad because I want to be a better man than I am.  I wanted to give her the best things in life.  This saint of a woman smiles at me, loves me, explains that “those things” are not important to her.  I am also immeasurably thankful that she calls me out to be a better man, and her callings are seasoned with grace.

And that is a glimpse of my ambivalence.

 

 

 

This causes me to tremble

From one of the great blogs that I follow, “The Seeker”. I felt compelled to reblog this wonderful piece.

Life Is Like That

Was I there?

At the crack of dawn, when everybody is still asleep, before the narrow streets of Old Jerusalem turn into a market place and become crowded with people, we were there to do the Via Dolorosa and reflect what it was to be there.

Via Dolorosa is a Way of Sorrow.  It is long winding narrow streets of Old Jerusalem starting from Ecce Homo Convent to the Basilica of Holy Sepulchre.  We carried the cross as the way Jesus carried it from being judge by Pilate and the people at the Judgement Hall all the way to Golgotha, the site of the crucifixion.
carry cross

There are fourteen stations that we stopped along the way:

I. Jesus is condemned to death

II. Jesus takes up the Cross

III. Jesus falls under the Cross for the first time

IV. Jesus meets his Mother

V. Simon the Cyrenian is forced to carry the…

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RACE DAY – Mar. 29

The Race, your Race. From A Devoted Life

A DEVOTED LIFE

““Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.” 1 Corinthians 9:24

10150802_516597128451881_995926132_nIt is race day.

I love race day, but I sort of hate it at the same time. My sleep was restless and I awoke early with a stomach filled with a cocktail of excitement and anxiety that coffee did not settle. I am competing in my first cycling race. I have competed in triathlons before but this is my first race just on the bike and it is a USA Cycling sanctioned stage race on top of that.

A stage race is actually three races. Today, we will compete in a time trial and a criterium. Then tomorrow, we will finish up the stages with a road race.  I have never done any of them, so this will be a new…

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