Where is your safe place?
Where do you go to hide when you feel the need to hide?
To whom do you do to “lick your wounds” from life in the world?
Let’s think about these questions
as we meditate on the word of the Lord:
Psalm 71:1-6
In you, O LORD, I take refuge;
let me never be put to shame.
In your righteousness deliver me and rescue me;
incline your ear to me and save me.
When we were young, we sought out the safe places, the bases from which we could move to explore our world. Even in our games, we would name a tree or a porch “home” or “base,” and as long as we were touching base, we were safe. Sometimes our cousins or siblings would get so mad that even these places weren’t safe anymore. So we would just happen to wander into Grandma’s kitchen and take a sudden interest in the making of pies. Nobody would mess with us there.
But as you get older, finding safe places becomes more difficult. Teenagers look at you like you’re a fool if you start talking about naming a locker as “home” and Grandma, if she is still alive, is no longer as amused with you hiding at her feet. “Time to grow up!” And so we try to act brave even on days when we don’t exactly feel safe.
Some of us learn the good church answer: “In you, O Lord, I take refuge!” It is a true answer; God is our shelter. As our faith matures, on most days our faith sustains us, our firm belief based on experience that God walks with us and protects us. Yet there are those other days. Days when the invisibility of God to earthly eyes make his omniscience, his omnipotence, and even his omnipresence invisible and intangible to our needy souls. Days when we call for rescue, but don’t immediately feel the strength of a divine response.
On those days we need to remember that God dwells among his people. Surely, if two or more of us are gathered together, God will be there. And God is. Yet there is a problem with this as well. Sometimes we find that our little safe place, our safe community, is not accessible to us. Perhaps they are busy; perhaps they are gone away on business. Maybe we are mad at them for some offense other than our current crisis; maybe they are angry with us. And sometimes, some of the worst times, we feel that they, our safe place, has become no longer safe.
What do we do? Hear the Psalmist:
Be to me a rock of refuge, a strong fortress,
to save me, for you are my rock and my fortress.
Rescue me, O my God, from the hand of the wicked,
from the grasp of the unjust and cruel.
For you, O Lord, are my hope, my trust,
O LORD, from my youth.
Even if our eyes cannot see the rock, it is a refuge. Even if our fingers cannot feel the walls of the fortress, God is that wall about us. Wickedness will come, and not maybe. It will inflict pain, and not perhaps. Yet God will rescue us because his love is steadfast, even when the love of others, and even our own, is not.
Upon you I have leaned from my birth;
it was you who took me from my mother's womb.
My praise is continually of you.
We find comfort as a child in the arms of our parents. As an adult, we find that comfort in the arms of our spouse, or of our children. Yet after the womb, there is no constant sense of physical protection about us. We are called upon to learn to rely upon God as our all-embracing strength. We are called to venture out from our bases, our fortresses, and embrace those who need our love and care. At the same time, I think that God surrounds his children with a community to love, to touch, and embrace them so that our divinely made bodies feel and give the physical comfort of Jesus Christ, God in the flesh.
Be there for each other,
Ron
Showing posts with label rock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rock. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Expecting safety, experiencing fear, feeling angry
“Be afraid. Be very afraid.” People who are parents, and people who serve in the place of parents, are going to experience fear.
This is because their children will do things, or their children will experience things, that will scare them silly. Consider the example of Mary:
Now every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day's journey. Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends.
When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him they were astonished; and his mother said to him, "Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety." He said to them, "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?” But they did not understand what he said to them. Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. His mother treasured all these things in her heart.
And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.
Luke 2:41-52 - NRSV
It is not difficult to imagine the fear of Mary and Joseph. Think about needing to say this prayer: “O Lord, it appears that we have lost your only begotten son. Help!” It wouldn’t help to know that God would already be perfectly aware of your dilemma. Of your parental shortcomings. The sinking feeling that a parent has in their gut when they know something is wrong for one of their children can be an overwhelming kind of fear.
A troubled pregnancy. An uncontrolled fever. Crying that won’t stop. The unexpected visit to the emergency room. Missing in the mall. The unimaginable fall. An encounter with truly evil people. A car accident. A poor choice for a romantic relationship. For any parent that is awake, these can be fearful situations.
But look what happens when the fear is past. Anger. Anger taken to the very limit of words. Even from the saintly Mary. Can’t you hear it in her voice? “Child, why have you treated us like this?”
The reality is that anger frequently follows fear. Why is this? As humans we have an expectation of safety even though we are intelligent enough to know that the world is not exactly a safe place. To be able to function at all, those of us who maintain some level of sanity learn how to deal with that lack of safety. Sometimes we establish complex systems designed to guarantee that safety. We choose houses in certain locations, either for their remoteness or the level of police protection. We install locks. We exercise vigilance. We practice denial. Which is all fine until you take those precious babies outside your little castle and have them interact with other human beings.
Every measure of safety can be defeated. Which means that safety is too frequently is either relative or an illusion. Yet there is one exception to the safety problem. God. Hear the words of David:
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer,
my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield and the horn of my salvation,
my stronghold and my refuge,
my savior; you save me from violence.
I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised,
and I am saved from my enemies.
2 Samuel 22:2-4 – NRSV
(If you really want to feel safe in the protection of God, read the rest of that chapter.) Do you think perhaps that even the courageous David experienced fear and anger? I think that it is a near certainty. Yet the source of safety for this great person was God. Only God.
So how will we avoid anger after we experience fear? I don’t think that we can or ought to try to stop the feelings, but I do think that we need to be careful what we do with them. I don’t think that we can avoid the anger, but we have listen to what it is telling us. Our expectation of safety has been disappointed. How can we regain safety? There may be things that we can do. But if it is possible at all, it will be with our God, our Rock. We must trust him, and believe, even when it is not readily apparent, that he is in control (and ought to be).
One other thing. If dealing with fear and anger are so difficult for us as adults, who have some level of maturity (mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual), can we imagine what this fear and anger might be like for a child? Can we contemplate the overwhelming feelings that an abused or neglected child feels when they have been living in the survival mode, the mode of fear, for years? Can we imagine the anger on the other side of their fear? Perhaps thinking about this will move us to construct a little corner of God’s kingdom in our homes so that the children in our care can experience safety. Perhaps for the first time in recent history. Yet they may have to experience safety for a while before they can make safe, and not angry, choices for themselves.
Lean upon the Rock. Hide behind him on the really tough days. He wants you to rely on him.
Blessings,
Ron
This is because their children will do things, or their children will experience things, that will scare them silly. Consider the example of Mary:
Now every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day's journey. Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends.
When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him they were astonished; and his mother said to him, "Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety." He said to them, "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?” But they did not understand what he said to them. Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. His mother treasured all these things in her heart.
And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.
Luke 2:41-52 - NRSV
It is not difficult to imagine the fear of Mary and Joseph. Think about needing to say this prayer: “O Lord, it appears that we have lost your only begotten son. Help!” It wouldn’t help to know that God would already be perfectly aware of your dilemma. Of your parental shortcomings. The sinking feeling that a parent has in their gut when they know something is wrong for one of their children can be an overwhelming kind of fear.
A troubled pregnancy. An uncontrolled fever. Crying that won’t stop. The unexpected visit to the emergency room. Missing in the mall. The unimaginable fall. An encounter with truly evil people. A car accident. A poor choice for a romantic relationship. For any parent that is awake, these can be fearful situations.
But look what happens when the fear is past. Anger. Anger taken to the very limit of words. Even from the saintly Mary. Can’t you hear it in her voice? “Child, why have you treated us like this?”
The reality is that anger frequently follows fear. Why is this? As humans we have an expectation of safety even though we are intelligent enough to know that the world is not exactly a safe place. To be able to function at all, those of us who maintain some level of sanity learn how to deal with that lack of safety. Sometimes we establish complex systems designed to guarantee that safety. We choose houses in certain locations, either for their remoteness or the level of police protection. We install locks. We exercise vigilance. We practice denial. Which is all fine until you take those precious babies outside your little castle and have them interact with other human beings.
Every measure of safety can be defeated. Which means that safety is too frequently is either relative or an illusion. Yet there is one exception to the safety problem. God. Hear the words of David:
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer,
my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield and the horn of my salvation,
my stronghold and my refuge,
my savior; you save me from violence.
I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised,
and I am saved from my enemies.
2 Samuel 22:2-4 – NRSV
(If you really want to feel safe in the protection of God, read the rest of that chapter.) Do you think perhaps that even the courageous David experienced fear and anger? I think that it is a near certainty. Yet the source of safety for this great person was God. Only God.
So how will we avoid anger after we experience fear? I don’t think that we can or ought to try to stop the feelings, but I do think that we need to be careful what we do with them. I don’t think that we can avoid the anger, but we have listen to what it is telling us. Our expectation of safety has been disappointed. How can we regain safety? There may be things that we can do. But if it is possible at all, it will be with our God, our Rock. We must trust him, and believe, even when it is not readily apparent, that he is in control (and ought to be).
One other thing. If dealing with fear and anger are so difficult for us as adults, who have some level of maturity (mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual), can we imagine what this fear and anger might be like for a child? Can we contemplate the overwhelming feelings that an abused or neglected child feels when they have been living in the survival mode, the mode of fear, for years? Can we imagine the anger on the other side of their fear? Perhaps thinking about this will move us to construct a little corner of God’s kingdom in our homes so that the children in our care can experience safety. Perhaps for the first time in recent history. Yet they may have to experience safety for a while before they can make safe, and not angry, choices for themselves.
Lean upon the Rock. Hide behind him on the really tough days. He wants you to rely on him.
Blessings,
Ron
Thursday, July 24, 2008
A pile of stones
Everywhere you turn in the book of Joshua, there are rocks. Sometimes they are single stones, sometimes they are stacked with a particular number, sometimes they are just a massive pile of rocks.
Twelve stones are brought from the bed of the Jordan to serve as a memorial of the crossing of the twelve tribes (Josh 4). Knives are made from stone to make the people holy and one (Josh 5.2-8). This caused the reproach of Egypt to be rolled away like a stone (Josh 5.9). Jericho (Josh 6) fell into a heap of stones [except the stones of Rahab's house remained standing, the original witness protection plan]. When Achan erred, he was stoned and buried under a pile of stones (Josh 7) so that his error would not quickly be forgotten. When Ai fell (Josh 8), not only was it left as a heap of burnt rocks, its king was buried under a pile of rocks (Josh 8.29). Then, on top of Mount Ebal, an altar of uncut stones is built to worship God, and Joshua copies the Book of the Law onto stones (Josh 8.30-35). When the five kings of the Amorites come against Israel, God makes even water into rocks, and more Amorites die from hailstones than from the sword (Josh 10.5-11). When those kings hide in a cave, they are trapped inside with rocks, and after their deaths, that same cave is made into a tomb sealed with those rocks (Josh 10.16-27). A stone memorializing Bohan, son of Reuben, is made into a boundary marker (Josh 15.6; 18.17) and a silent reminder of a promise fulfilled.
Surely this has the least curious of us asking, "Why all of these rocks?" It might just be that the promised land has lots of rocks, and although that is true, it does not explain why the writer of this story bothered to tell us about them. Why all of these rocks?
The answer comes at the end of the book and the end of the life of Joshua. Joshua sets up a large stone near an oak near the holy place of the Lord (Josh 24.26). He then says, "See . . . this stone will be a witness against us. It has heard all the words the Lord has said to us. It will be a witness against you if you are untrue to your God." You have all heard the expressions: "If these walls could talk . . ." or "If these rocks could speak . . . ." For the people of God, all of nature stands as a witness to the acts of God through his people, and their own acts of wilfulness.
Not far from Hollis stands a rock, a stone not likely to be moved by the hands of men. It stands as a witness to the lives of a father and his son and their God, and their relationship with one another: Ron, Ben, YHWH. Its testimony would help you understand how close these three have become because of the events that happened in its presence some time ago. Triumph. Disaster. Pain. Hope. Fear. Courage. Power. Exhaustion. Salvation. And every time that this father and son return with their God, that stone's testimony is heard again in all three hearts.
What testimony will the rocks and trees in Harmon County give about our time there? God only knows now, but if we are truly passionate about our children and our God, now is the time for us to think and plan and prepare for those moments so that we can have some assurance that God will be glorified by that testimony.
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Heb 12.1,2
Twelve stones are brought from the bed of the Jordan to serve as a memorial of the crossing of the twelve tribes (Josh 4). Knives are made from stone to make the people holy and one (Josh 5.2-8). This caused the reproach of Egypt to be rolled away like a stone (Josh 5.9). Jericho (Josh 6) fell into a heap of stones [except the stones of Rahab's house remained standing, the original witness protection plan]. When Achan erred, he was stoned and buried under a pile of stones (Josh 7) so that his error would not quickly be forgotten. When Ai fell (Josh 8), not only was it left as a heap of burnt rocks, its king was buried under a pile of rocks (Josh 8.29). Then, on top of Mount Ebal, an altar of uncut stones is built to worship God, and Joshua copies the Book of the Law onto stones (Josh 8.30-35). When the five kings of the Amorites come against Israel, God makes even water into rocks, and more Amorites die from hailstones than from the sword (Josh 10.5-11). When those kings hide in a cave, they are trapped inside with rocks, and after their deaths, that same cave is made into a tomb sealed with those rocks (Josh 10.16-27). A stone memorializing Bohan, son of Reuben, is made into a boundary marker (Josh 15.6; 18.17) and a silent reminder of a promise fulfilled.
Surely this has the least curious of us asking, "Why all of these rocks?" It might just be that the promised land has lots of rocks, and although that is true, it does not explain why the writer of this story bothered to tell us about them. Why all of these rocks?
The answer comes at the end of the book and the end of the life of Joshua. Joshua sets up a large stone near an oak near the holy place of the Lord (Josh 24.26). He then says, "See . . . this stone will be a witness against us. It has heard all the words the Lord has said to us. It will be a witness against you if you are untrue to your God." You have all heard the expressions: "If these walls could talk . . ." or "If these rocks could speak . . . ." For the people of God, all of nature stands as a witness to the acts of God through his people, and their own acts of wilfulness.
Not far from Hollis stands a rock, a stone not likely to be moved by the hands of men. It stands as a witness to the lives of a father and his son and their God, and their relationship with one another: Ron, Ben, YHWH. Its testimony would help you understand how close these three have become because of the events that happened in its presence some time ago. Triumph. Disaster. Pain. Hope. Fear. Courage. Power. Exhaustion. Salvation. And every time that this father and son return with their God, that stone's testimony is heard again in all three hearts.
What testimony will the rocks and trees in Harmon County give about our time there? God only knows now, but if we are truly passionate about our children and our God, now is the time for us to think and plan and prepare for those moments so that we can have some assurance that God will be glorified by that testimony.
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Heb 12.1,2
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Thirst on the edge of survival
The original "As the Deer . . ." is a great psalm:
As the deer pants for ravines of water,
So my soul pants for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, the living God;
When will I come and appear before you, O God?
My tears are my bread, day and night,
They say to me all day, "Where is your God?"
This I remember and I pour out my soul:
For I led the throng in procession
to the house of God,
With a voice ringing with joy and thanksgiving
in the tumult of the crowd.
Why are you downcast, O my soul,
and why do you mutter within me?
Hope in God, for still I will give thanks to him,
my salvation, my God.
(Ps 42.1-6 RB)
Sometimes we have the feeling that the song presents a serene, silvan setting in which this strong, noble stag pauses in his frolic to consider his thirst during the early morning hours. Instead, the psalmist presents a picture of an animal, haggard from a lengthy chase, longing for a sip of water even from a shallow puddle in the midst of the rocks, left over from the last rain. The heart of the deer is about to burst from deep within its chest. The thirst is overwhelming, and the fear is tangible. The confidence and power of this once-noble animal have been poured out.
Only God can fill this thirst.
Only God can calm this heart.
Only God can deliver his creation from its enemies.
God alone is its shelter.
God alone is salvation.
Let him be our Rock;
Let him be our living water;
May the steadfast love of the Lord
never cease to sustain us.
Trust in his grace,
find comfort in his peace.
Ron
As the deer pants for ravines of water,
So my soul pants for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, the living God;
When will I come and appear before you, O God?
My tears are my bread, day and night,
They say to me all day, "Where is your God?"
This I remember and I pour out my soul:
For I led the throng in procession
to the house of God,
With a voice ringing with joy and thanksgiving
in the tumult of the crowd.
Why are you downcast, O my soul,
and why do you mutter within me?
Hope in God, for still I will give thanks to him,
my salvation, my God.
(Ps 42.1-6 RB)
Sometimes we have the feeling that the song presents a serene, silvan setting in which this strong, noble stag pauses in his frolic to consider his thirst during the early morning hours. Instead, the psalmist presents a picture of an animal, haggard from a lengthy chase, longing for a sip of water even from a shallow puddle in the midst of the rocks, left over from the last rain. The heart of the deer is about to burst from deep within its chest. The thirst is overwhelming, and the fear is tangible. The confidence and power of this once-noble animal have been poured out.
Only God can fill this thirst.
Only God can calm this heart.
Only God can deliver his creation from its enemies.
God alone is its shelter.
God alone is salvation.
Let him be our Rock;
Let him be our living water;
May the steadfast love of the Lord
never cease to sustain us.
Trust in his grace,
find comfort in his peace.
Ron
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Rock and sand
Today, a scripture, a prayer, and a meditation.
"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell - and great was its fall!"
Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.
- Mt 7:24-29 - NRSV
Walter Brueggemann has written a prayer specifically for this scripture:
No more sinking sand
God of heaven and lord of earth,
Tamer of heaven, lover of earth,
sovereign over the waters that surge,
provider for birds, beasts, and fish,
chooser of Israel and commander of all humanity.
Your vistas remind us
of how close and small we keep our horizons,
how much we blink at your power, and wince from your justice,
how much we waver in the face of your commanding mercy.
You, you, you only, you, God of heaven and lord of earth.
Comes the rain upon our parade,
and the floods upon our nations,
and the winds upon our personal configurations,
Comes your shattering and your reconfiguring
in ways we doubt or we fear.
We discover yet again, how sandy we are,
with the quaking of our foundations
and our fantasized firmaments.
We are filled with trembling and nightmares that disturb.
And then you-rock-solid-stable-reliable-sure
You rock against our sand,
You rock of ages,
You rock that is higher than us treading water,
You rock of compassion -
be compassionate for us, our loved ones
and all of our needy neighbors,
You rock of abidingness for our sick
and for those long loved, lingering memories,
dead and in your care,
You rock of justice for the nations,
fed up with our hate,
exhausted by the greed of our several tribes,
You rock of communion in our loneliness,
rock of graciousness in our many modes of gracelessness.
Come be present even here and there, there and here,
Move us from our sandy certitudes to your grace-filled risk,
Move us to become more rock-like
in compassion and abidingness and justice,
Move us to be more like you in our neighborliness
and in our self-regard.
Yes, yes, yes - move us that we may finally
stand on the solid rock, no more sinking sand.
God of heaven, Lord of earth,
hear our resolve, heal our unresolve,
that we may finish in sure trust and in glad obedience.
We already know what to do by our careful pondering
of you. Amen.
May we learn to be like a rock like God is a rock:
steadfast in resolve and in mercy,
strong in faith and flexibility,
loving through both compassion and justice.
May we realize that if we will be a rock like God is a rock:
Crashing waves and smashing storms
are to be expected.
Tumbling stones and careless birds
will scar and mark.
Heat will bake and frost will flake.
Still our steadfastness and shade
will be landmark and comfort to those
who have yet to dig down
to the real Rock.
The real rock on which we rest.
Imitate the Rock.
Imitate Jesus.
As unreal as it seems,
it pleases God for this to be the plan.
Grace and peace,
Ron
"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell - and great was its fall!"
Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.
- Mt 7:24-29 - NRSV
Walter Brueggemann has written a prayer specifically for this scripture:
No more sinking sand
God of heaven and lord of earth,
Tamer of heaven, lover of earth,
sovereign over the waters that surge,
provider for birds, beasts, and fish,
chooser of Israel and commander of all humanity.
Your vistas remind us
of how close and small we keep our horizons,
how much we blink at your power, and wince from your justice,
how much we waver in the face of your commanding mercy.
You, you, you only, you, God of heaven and lord of earth.
Comes the rain upon our parade,
and the floods upon our nations,
and the winds upon our personal configurations,
Comes your shattering and your reconfiguring
in ways we doubt or we fear.
We discover yet again, how sandy we are,
with the quaking of our foundations
and our fantasized firmaments.
We are filled with trembling and nightmares that disturb.
And then you-rock-solid-stable-reliable-sure
You rock against our sand,
You rock of ages,
You rock that is higher than us treading water,
You rock of compassion -
be compassionate for us, our loved ones
and all of our needy neighbors,
You rock of abidingness for our sick
and for those long loved, lingering memories,
dead and in your care,
You rock of justice for the nations,
fed up with our hate,
exhausted by the greed of our several tribes,
You rock of communion in our loneliness,
rock of graciousness in our many modes of gracelessness.
Come be present even here and there, there and here,
Move us from our sandy certitudes to your grace-filled risk,
Move us to become more rock-like
in compassion and abidingness and justice,
Move us to be more like you in our neighborliness
and in our self-regard.
Yes, yes, yes - move us that we may finally
stand on the solid rock, no more sinking sand.
God of heaven, Lord of earth,
hear our resolve, heal our unresolve,
that we may finish in sure trust and in glad obedience.
We already know what to do by our careful pondering
of you. Amen.
May we learn to be like a rock like God is a rock:
steadfast in resolve and in mercy,
strong in faith and flexibility,
loving through both compassion and justice.
May we realize that if we will be a rock like God is a rock:
Crashing waves and smashing storms
are to be expected.
Tumbling stones and careless birds
will scar and mark.
Heat will bake and frost will flake.
Still our steadfastness and shade
will be landmark and comfort to those
who have yet to dig down
to the real Rock.
The real rock on which we rest.
Imitate the Rock.
Imitate Jesus.
As unreal as it seems,
it pleases God for this to be the plan.
Grace and peace,
Ron
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)