Where I Am



Rainbow over Presque Isle



"Gratitude as a discipline involves a conscious choice. I can choose to be grateful even when my emotions and feelings are still steeped in hurt and resentment. It is amazing how many occasions present themselves in which I can choose gratitude instead of a complaint. I can choose to be grateful when I am criticized, even when my heart still responds in bitterness. I can choose to speak about goodness and beauty, even when my inner eye still looks for someone to accuse or something to call ugly."

 

This is where I am. 

(quote by Henri J.M. Nouwen)

 

A Disciple's Renewal

"O my Saviour,

Help me.

I am slow to learn,

so prone to forget,

so weak to climb.

Mount Arbel, Tiberius, Israel



I am in the foothills when I should be

on the heights;

The view from the top of Mount Arbel

I am pained by my graceless heart,

my prayerless days,

my poverty of love,

my sloth in the heavenly race,

my sullied conscience,

my wasted hours,

my unspent opportunities.

Sunrise over the Sea of Galilee

I am blind while light shines around me:

take the scales from my eyes,

grind to dust the evil heart of unbelief.

Make it my chiefest joy to study thee,

meditate on thee,

sit like Mary at they feet,

lean like John on thy breast,

appeal like Peter to thy love,

count like Paul all things dung.

Tombs overlooking the Sea of Galilee

Give me increase and progress in grace

so that there may be

more decision in my character,

more vigour in my purposes,

more elevation in my life,

more fervour in my devotion,

more constancy in my zeal.

Chorazim, Israel

As I have a position in the world,

keep me from making the world my position;

May I never seek in the creature

what can be found only in the Creator;



Let not faith cease from seeking thee

until it vanishes into sight.

Ride forth in me, thou King of kings, and Lord of lords,

that I may live victoriously,

and in victory attain my end."

The Valley of Vision

Puritan Prayers and Devotions

Arthur Bennett

Sameness

There is rhythm to a working life.  I miss that. What I miss is the sameness - the morning routine before work, the morning routine with the children at work, and the faces, I miss those same, every day faces.

Mornings begun in quiet darkness, coffee brewing, journal open, written words ready to speak, have given way to mornings begun with coffee shared and words spoken.  I loved to the watch the sun rise above the horizon.  I love, even more, to watch the swallow-tails and monarchs enjoy the sweet nectar of the butterfly bush planted by the same hands that have lived with and loved this heart of mine for a long time.

Sameness.  "...and this same Jesus...." Acts 1:11 (KJV).  That's how it happens.  First the feeling, then a word, then the Word.  It's just like Him.  Sameness.  "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever" Hebrews 13:8 (NAS).

I am grateful for the sameness of:
101.  God's love
102.  the rising and setting of the sun
103.  His way of speaking to me
104.  a sister's card
105.  time
106.  eternity
107.  Jesus
108.  love's touch
109.  a father's prayer
110.  life

 

First

"Eternal Father of my soul, let my first thought be of You, let my first impulse be to worship You, let my first speech be Your name, let my first action be to kneel before You in prayer;

For Your perfect wisdom and perfect goodness;
For the love with which You love mankind;
For the love with which You love me;
For the great and mysterious opportunity of my life;
For the indwelling of Your Spirit in my heart;
For the sevenfold gifts of Your Spirit;
I praise and worship You, O Lord.

Yet let me not, when this morning prayer is said, think my worship ended and spend the day in forgetfulness of You.  Rather, from these moments of quietness let light go forth, and joy, and power, that willl remain with me through all the hours of the day;

Keeping me chaste in thought;
Keeping me temperate and truthful in speech;
Keeping me faithful and diligent in my work;
Keeping me humble in my estimation of myself;
Keeping me honorable and generous in my dealings with others;
Keeping me loyal to every hallowed memory of the past;
Keeping me mindful of my eternal destiny as a child of Yours;
Through Jesus Christ my Lord, Amen."

A Diary of Private Prayer

John Baillie

Taken from Richard Foster's Devotional Classic

pp. 126-127

He is My Soul's Desire,

Waiting Tables - A Journal Entry

It was really nice to spend the morning with my hubby.  But then I had to finish making preparation for church services and I could feel the angst rising up in my heart.  To make matters worse, my dear hubby had to clean up a flooded mess in the church's basement.  For me, it was just another mess he had to clean up - someone else's mess, not one of his own making. 


There are so many things he does like that.  Changing the church sign, putting the screens in the windows, fixing the mower, fixing the plow & truck, overseeing the budget, listening to gripes, complaints and agendas, visiting the sick, preparing sermons, worship services, and bible studies, fixing the furnace, installing new parts, ordering replacement parts, making sure he's manning the church phone just in case someone calls, laying cement, digging holes, carrying tables, and walking on eggshells....all these things and so much more I've watched this dear man do with little or no help... just him, alone.


Waiting tables.


The phone doesn't ring to offer encouragement.  The phone doesn't ring.  Quiet whispers cast shadowy suspicions of motives and actions.  Those he is called to love stab at his heart.  He bears it.  I watch.  Sometimes the salty tears stain my face as I watch this man offer life to those who are satisfied with the status quo.


Waiting tables.


I watch this man greet people with kindness as they ask the question, "Is this a hand-shaking day or a hug day?  I just don't know with you."  These same ones demand his presence and reject his heart.  They demand his schedule and reject his time.  They demand his back and reject his mind. 


Clean up the mess, put away the tables, stack the chairs, change the sign, empty the bucket, roll the rug, clear the drain, buy supplies, take out the trash, pick the songs, lead worship and then offer his heart.  I watch.  They expect him to do these things, and he does.  They must get their money's worth for one day's work.


Waiting tables.


The tears stain the page as I write. Ink smears across the page. 


A picture of a towel and basin flash in my mind.  His voice speaks softly to me as the angry sobs unfold in His arms. 


"Now before the Feast of the Passover, Jesus knowing that His hour had come that He would depart out of this world to the Father having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end.  During supper, the devil having already put into the heart of Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon, to betray Him, Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come forth from God and was going back to God, got up from supper, and laid aside His garments; and taking a towel, He girded Himself.  Then He poured water into the basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel with which he was girded" (John 13:1-5).

Matthew, Mark, and Luke provide details that make the washing of the disciples' feet even more dramatic.  These men, having traveled all over Israel with Jesus for more than 3 years, are gathered together for a Passover meal, for what Jesus knows to be the last time.  He spends time preparing their hearts for His death, painting a stark reality on a canvas of hope. 


The disciples arrive to a prepared place.  They sit at the table waiting to be served instead of serving.  Arguing over who is the greatest and will have first place.  Jesus watches. And then, He begins. Their filthy feet in His hands.  Their filthy hearts soon to know the freedom of their Kinsman Redeemer's blood-bought purchase.


His eyes.  His hands.  His heart.  His words.  His blood.


My feet.  My heart.  My redemption. 


The Lord of Glory waited tables. He loved them to the end.


Father forgive me.