Today, a poem that Ann sent to me:
Sometimes life seems hard to bear,
Full of sorrow, trouble and woe
It's then I have to remember
That it's in the valleys I grow.
If I always stayed on the mountain top
And never experienced pain,
I would never appreciate God's love
And would be living in vain.
I have so much to learn
And my growth is very slow,
Sometimes I need the mountain tops,
But it's in the valleys I grow.
I do not always understand
Why things happen as they do,
But I am very sure of one thing.
My Lord will see me through.
My little valleys are nothing
When I picture Christ on the cross
He went through the valley of death;
His victory was Satan's loss.
Forgive me Lord, for complaining
When I'm feeling so very low.
Just give me a gentle reminder
That it's in the valleys I grow.
Continue to strengthen me, Lord
And use my life each day
To share your love with others
And help them find their way.
Thank you for valleys, Lord
For this one thing I know
The mountain tops are glorious
But it's in the valleys I grow!
- Jane Eggleston
Blessings,
Ron
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The joy of the waters
Hear the word of the Lord from Psalm 145:
All your works shall give thanks to you, O Lord,
and all your faithful shall bless you.
They shall speak of the glory of your kingdom,
and tell of your power,
to make known to all people your mighty deeds,
and the glorious splendor of your kingdom.
Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom,
and your dominion endures throughout all generations.
All of God’s works, even the rocks, trees and hills, will praise him. I believe that even the waters will lift their voices in praise of God as they move to do his will. Meditate on this beautiful passage from Hannah Hurnard’s Hind’s Feet on High Places:
At the foot of the cliffs they found themselves standing in cool shadows with a light spray sometimes splashing their faces, and there the Shepherd bade them stand and look up. There stood Much-Afraid, a tiny figure at the foot of the mighty cliffs, looking up at the great, never-ending rush of waters as they cast themselves down from the High Places. . . . As she listened, Much-Afraid realized that she was hearing the full majestic harmonies, the whole orchestra as it were, playing the original of the theme song which all the little streamlets had sung far below in the Valley of Humiliation. Now it was uttered by thousands upon thousands of voices, but with grander harmonies that anything heard down in the valleys, yet still the same song.
From the heights we leap and go
To the valley down below,
Always answering to the call,
To the lowest place of all.
“Much-Afraid,” said the Shepherd’s voice in her ear, “what do you think of this fall of great waters in their abandonment of self-giving?”
She trembled a little as she answered. “I think they are beautiful and terrible beyond anything which I ever saw before.”
“Why terrible?” he asked.
“It is the leap which they have to make, the awful height from which they must cast themselves down to the depths beneath, there to be broken on the rocks. I can hardly bear to watch it”
“Look closer,” he said again. “Let your eye follow just one part of the water from the moment when it leaps over the edge until it reaches the bottom.”
Much-Afraid did so, and then almost gasped with wonder. Once over the edge, the waters were like winged things, alive with joy, so utterly abandoned to the ecstasy of giving themselves that she could almost have supposed that she was looking at a host of angels floating down on rainbow wings, singing with rapture as they went.
She gazed, then said, “It looks as though they think it is the loveliest movement in all the world, as though to cast oneself down is to abandon oneself to ecstasy and joy indescribable.”
“Yes,” answered the Shepherd in a voice vibrant with joy and thanksgiving, “I am glad that you have noticed that, Much Afraid. . . . Does the joy of the waters seem to end when they break on the rock below?”
Again Much-Afraid looked where he pointed, and noticed that the lower the water fell, the lighter it seemed to grow, as though it really were lighting down on wings. On reaching the rocks below, all the waters flowed together in a glorious host, forming an exuberant, rushing torrent which swirled triumphantly around and over the rocks.
Laughing and shouting at the top of their voices, they hurried still lower and lower, down through the meadows to the next precipice and the next glorious crisis of their self-giving. From there they would again cast themselves down to the valleys far below. Far from suffering from the rocks, it seemed as though every obstacle in the bed of the torrent was looked upon as another object to be overcome and another lovely opportunity to find a way over or around it. Everywhere there was the sound of water, laughing, exulting, shouting in jubilation.
Even when the water reaches the sea, its task, its joy is not complete. There the mighty Son lifts the waters up from the depths to heavenly heights, where they soon begin again their joyful descent.
How is it with us? Is the call to go lower too much for us? Is the faith to soar over the abyss too terrifying? Is the demand to flow side by side with the other waters too limiting? How many rocks and limbs cross our path before we lose the joy of serving the purposes of God?
The waters have the power to reshape our world, yet:
The power is not in the drop of water, but in the stream.
The power is not in the still pool, but in the moving current.
Both power and joy are found in submission, in obedience, in love for the sending and love for the sender.
May God help us laugh, exult, and shout at the goodness of serving the purposes of our Creator, and in our finding God’s creative power in our lives.
Blessings,
Ron
Psalm 145:10-13 – NRSV
Hind’s Feet on High Places, 146-148.
All your works shall give thanks to you, O Lord,
and all your faithful shall bless you.
They shall speak of the glory of your kingdom,
and tell of your power,
to make known to all people your mighty deeds,
and the glorious splendor of your kingdom.
Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom,
and your dominion endures throughout all generations.
All of God’s works, even the rocks, trees and hills, will praise him. I believe that even the waters will lift their voices in praise of God as they move to do his will. Meditate on this beautiful passage from Hannah Hurnard’s Hind’s Feet on High Places:
At the foot of the cliffs they found themselves standing in cool shadows with a light spray sometimes splashing their faces, and there the Shepherd bade them stand and look up. There stood Much-Afraid, a tiny figure at the foot of the mighty cliffs, looking up at the great, never-ending rush of waters as they cast themselves down from the High Places. . . . As she listened, Much-Afraid realized that she was hearing the full majestic harmonies, the whole orchestra as it were, playing the original of the theme song which all the little streamlets had sung far below in the Valley of Humiliation. Now it was uttered by thousands upon thousands of voices, but with grander harmonies that anything heard down in the valleys, yet still the same song.
From the heights we leap and go
To the valley down below,
Always answering to the call,
To the lowest place of all.
“Much-Afraid,” said the Shepherd’s voice in her ear, “what do you think of this fall of great waters in their abandonment of self-giving?”
She trembled a little as she answered. “I think they are beautiful and terrible beyond anything which I ever saw before.”
“Why terrible?” he asked.
“It is the leap which they have to make, the awful height from which they must cast themselves down to the depths beneath, there to be broken on the rocks. I can hardly bear to watch it”
“Look closer,” he said again. “Let your eye follow just one part of the water from the moment when it leaps over the edge until it reaches the bottom.”
Much-Afraid did so, and then almost gasped with wonder. Once over the edge, the waters were like winged things, alive with joy, so utterly abandoned to the ecstasy of giving themselves that she could almost have supposed that she was looking at a host of angels floating down on rainbow wings, singing with rapture as they went.
She gazed, then said, “It looks as though they think it is the loveliest movement in all the world, as though to cast oneself down is to abandon oneself to ecstasy and joy indescribable.”
“Yes,” answered the Shepherd in a voice vibrant with joy and thanksgiving, “I am glad that you have noticed that, Much Afraid. . . . Does the joy of the waters seem to end when they break on the rock below?”
Again Much-Afraid looked where he pointed, and noticed that the lower the water fell, the lighter it seemed to grow, as though it really were lighting down on wings. On reaching the rocks below, all the waters flowed together in a glorious host, forming an exuberant, rushing torrent which swirled triumphantly around and over the rocks.
Laughing and shouting at the top of their voices, they hurried still lower and lower, down through the meadows to the next precipice and the next glorious crisis of their self-giving. From there they would again cast themselves down to the valleys far below. Far from suffering from the rocks, it seemed as though every obstacle in the bed of the torrent was looked upon as another object to be overcome and another lovely opportunity to find a way over or around it. Everywhere there was the sound of water, laughing, exulting, shouting in jubilation.
Even when the water reaches the sea, its task, its joy is not complete. There the mighty Son lifts the waters up from the depths to heavenly heights, where they soon begin again their joyful descent.
How is it with us? Is the call to go lower too much for us? Is the faith to soar over the abyss too terrifying? Is the demand to flow side by side with the other waters too limiting? How many rocks and limbs cross our path before we lose the joy of serving the purposes of God?
The waters have the power to reshape our world, yet:
The power is not in the drop of water, but in the stream.
The power is not in the still pool, but in the moving current.
Both power and joy are found in submission, in obedience, in love for the sending and love for the sender.
May God help us laugh, exult, and shout at the goodness of serving the purposes of our Creator, and in our finding God’s creative power in our lives.
Blessings,
Ron
Psalm 145:10-13 – NRSV
Hind’s Feet on High Places, 146-148.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
A grain of humor
Today, a prayer:
Most gracious God,
There are times when we hope you have the capacity to laugh at us,
Because the situation in which we as people involve ourselves
Must be taken with a grain of humor,
Else all is really a tragedy.
Help us also to laugh at ourselves as you laugh at us;
To realize that we are not permanent monuments to your gospel,
That we are temporary servants in the temple.
Give us an understanding of the mysteries that will sustain us
So that we can advise those others who come seeking your will.
And never let us think that we have final answers.
In Jesus’ name.
Amen.
- James E. Andrews
Blessings,
Ron
Most gracious God,
There are times when we hope you have the capacity to laugh at us,
Because the situation in which we as people involve ourselves
Must be taken with a grain of humor,
Else all is really a tragedy.
Help us also to laugh at ourselves as you laugh at us;
To realize that we are not permanent monuments to your gospel,
That we are temporary servants in the temple.
Give us an understanding of the mysteries that will sustain us
So that we can advise those others who come seeking your will.
And never let us think that we have final answers.
In Jesus’ name.
Amen.
- James E. Andrews
Blessings,
Ron
Monday, July 27, 2009
The nature of tragedy ...
As has been our habit over the last couple of months,
We continue to look at texts from the lectionary
For each week.
Hear the word of the Lord:
Fools say in their hearts, "There is no God."
They are corrupt, they do abominable deeds;
there is no one who does good.
The Lord looks down from heaven on humankind
to see if there are any who are wise,
who seek after God.
They have all gone astray, they are all alike perverse;
there is no one who does good,
no, not one.
Have they no knowledge, all the evildoers
who eat up my people as they eat bread,
and do not call upon the Lord?
There they shall be in great terror,
for God is with the company of the righteous.
You would confound the plans of the poor,
but the Lord is their refuge.
O that deliverance for Israel would come from Zion!
When the Lord restores the fortunes of his people,
Jacob will rejoice; Israel will be glad.
Some have said, “Sin is no tragedy.”
Yet, is that true?
From the perspective of the psalmist, sin is tragedy.
“Have they no knowledge, all the evildoers?”
Their foolishness causes grief in the lives of others,
grief for which these others didn’t ask,
grief for which they did no wrong. Is that not tragedy?
Their foolishness brings upon them “great terror”
which comes from the consequences of their sin.
terror that comes from being separated from others,
from any community, separated from God himself.
Can terror ever be far from tragedy?
From the perspective of God, sin is tragedy.
The Lord looks down from heaven, seeking the wise,
seeking the righteous souls with love and purpose
in their lives. Yet all have gone astray,
all have eventually chosen drama and tragedy
for their lives at some point in time.
If it grieves God, is sin not tragedy?
Yes, the future can be different.
If, by the grace of God we accept his grace
and allow him to change our story, he will
change tragedy into history, which puts our
grief behind us in history and connects our
lives with the everlasting story of God.
Or the tragedy can be made permanent
by our refusal to let go of the drama.
Don’t tell me that sin is no big deal,
don’t tell me that sin is no tragedy.
If it grieves my sister or brother,
if it grieves my God,
That is tragedy.
Blessings,
Ron
Psalm 14 – NRSV
We continue to look at texts from the lectionary
For each week.
Hear the word of the Lord:
Fools say in their hearts, "There is no God."
They are corrupt, they do abominable deeds;
there is no one who does good.
The Lord looks down from heaven on humankind
to see if there are any who are wise,
who seek after God.
They have all gone astray, they are all alike perverse;
there is no one who does good,
no, not one.
Have they no knowledge, all the evildoers
who eat up my people as they eat bread,
and do not call upon the Lord?
There they shall be in great terror,
for God is with the company of the righteous.
You would confound the plans of the poor,
but the Lord is their refuge.
O that deliverance for Israel would come from Zion!
When the Lord restores the fortunes of his people,
Jacob will rejoice; Israel will be glad.
Some have said, “Sin is no tragedy.”
Yet, is that true?
From the perspective of the psalmist, sin is tragedy.
“Have they no knowledge, all the evildoers?”
Their foolishness causes grief in the lives of others,
grief for which these others didn’t ask,
grief for which they did no wrong. Is that not tragedy?
Their foolishness brings upon them “great terror”
which comes from the consequences of their sin.
terror that comes from being separated from others,
from any community, separated from God himself.
Can terror ever be far from tragedy?
From the perspective of God, sin is tragedy.
The Lord looks down from heaven, seeking the wise,
seeking the righteous souls with love and purpose
in their lives. Yet all have gone astray,
all have eventually chosen drama and tragedy
for their lives at some point in time.
If it grieves God, is sin not tragedy?
Yes, the future can be different.
If, by the grace of God we accept his grace
and allow him to change our story, he will
change tragedy into history, which puts our
grief behind us in history and connects our
lives with the everlasting story of God.
Or the tragedy can be made permanent
by our refusal to let go of the drama.
Don’t tell me that sin is no big deal,
don’t tell me that sin is no tragedy.
If it grieves my sister or brother,
if it grieves my God,
That is tragedy.
Blessings,
Ron
Psalm 14 – NRSV
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