Sitting in my home a few years ago I heard a thump. Then another thump. It was silent for a few moments so I went back to my writing. Thump! Okay, now I had to investigate. What I found was a beautiful male cardinal flying around one of our windows. He would hover near the window and then peck aggressively at the pane. Thump! He fluttered around some more and then thumped the glass! The very focused bird stayed busy for several minutes repeating this odd behavior. I did some research and found that cardinals are very territorial. This beautiful bird apparently was seeing his own reflection in the window, and he was letting that intruder know he was not welcome! I worried that he was going to hurt himself defending his family against a nonexistent threat. How often do we wear ourselves out and even beat ourselves up trying to defend our “territory”? Invariably, our busyness is generated to
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God initiates salvation. The plan is so radical that it feels otherworldly. Salvation is complete and God’s embrace shows His desire to know us as His beloved children. No matter what you have done the Father stands ready to embrace and redeem. That flies in the face of what many of us have experienced in love relationships. But that is exactly the picture that Scripture paints in the story of the Prodigal Son. The son rebelled, sinned, and suffered the horrible consequences of his actions. The son realized his sin and in humble desperation decided to throw himself at the mercy of his father. Clearly the sins of the son would cause him to lose the daily privileges of being a son. But this passage tells us that nothing had changed in how the father viewed his son. The son was sure his behavior had estranged him from his father. The imagery is compelling. The father runs to him. That
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I will always remember watching Ricky Skaggs and Kentucky Thunder in concert. I have decided that if am ever unresponsive you can check my heart status by playing a Ricky Skaggs tune. If my toe doesn’t start tapping I am likely flat-lined. You just can’t help responding if you have a pulse. I left the concert and waded through Skagg’s discography. One song brought back memories of something my Mom always said to me. The song that jogged that recollection was called Don’t Get Above Your Raisin’. Now lookee here gal don’t ya’ high hat me,I ain’t forgot what you used ta beWhen you didn’t have nuthin,That was plain ta’ see.Don’t get above your raisin’Stay down ta’ earth with me. Mom was raised as a farm girl in Kentucky and she was fiercely proud of that. So anytime she perceived that I was getting a bit uppity and full of myself she would throw that line down. “Don’t get above your raisin’.” Sometimes it was over
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It was so sad to hear of the passing of the incredibly talented singer Mandisa. I remembered a duet from Mandisa and TobyMac that touched me deeply. They addressed the heartbreaking issue of racism and political division that affects our culture and often impacts the church. These lyrics immediately grabbed my heart. Are you left?Are you right?Pointing fingers, taking sidesWhen are we gonna realize? We all bleed the sameWe’re more beautiful when we come togetherWe all bleed the sameSo tell me why, tell me whyWe’re divided. Why indeed? I am praying for another leader like Martin Luther King Jr who will remind us that hateful rhetoric never, ever, ever changes a heart. Followers of Christ have a message of hope and light that is desperately needed. But we can get caught up in the politics of our world and snuff out that light. I have been guilty of that in my journey at times. I fear our culture will get darker in
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I talk about grace so much that the auto-suggest on my phone pops up the word as soon as I hit “G”. I suspect that sometimes you faithful readers wish I would mix up my topics. The truth is I cannot. Understanding grace rocked my spiritual world and changed my walk with God in dramatic and wonderful ways. I regularly extol the virtues of grace for a follower of Jesus. Grace compels you to trust others with you. Grace compels you to trust Jesus with your sin because you can’t manage it yourself. Grace compels you to forgive because you have been forgiven. Grace compels you to accept others and not judge them. Grace compels you to move toward the unlovable and not away. Grace compels you to sacrifice when you desire security. Grace compels you to love when your heart is hateful. Grace compels you to trust Jesus out of overflowing gratitude. The amazing thing about God’s grace is
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Texas seasons can be brutal for plants and trees. Last summer the heat and lack of rain impacted a new tree Joni and I had planted that spring. A deep winter freeze added to the struggle. As spring began we were not sure if our tree had survived. Day after day the limbs were barren. Then one glorious day tiny buds began to appear on the branches. These green buds sprouted in defiance of summer and winters brutal assault. I stopped and meditated on the miracle of life emerging out of barrenness. I thought of the words of philosopher Bernard Williams. “The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created Spring.” I love that. Is there anything more hopeful than watching the beauty of budding leaves and blooming flowers turning the melancholy of winter into a wondrous palette of invigorating colors? Every spring is a reminder that God will bring beauty from darkness and life from death.
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There is much written about Good Friday. The sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the Cross is incomprehensible to my puny human intellect. There is much written about Easter Sunday. Christians around the world rejoice and proclaim that “He is risen!”. But there is not nearly as much written about one of the saddest and most confusing days in history. The Saturday between the Friday horror of Jesus on the Cross and the Sunday mystery of the resurrection. Some churches do observe Holy Saturday but it was never a tradition in my faith upbringing. I have been thinking about what that day must have been like for those who dropped everything to follow Jesus. How crushing those events had to be. I imagine the fear they felt that they would also be killed. And for what? On Saturday they feared they had given their careers and their very souls for a false hope. I think in particular of Peter. I identify
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