Go Read This

Go read this. Then join me in Julie's prayer:

May His Word so deeply probe, penetrate, excavate our hearts that stubborn roots of unbelief may be ripped out and replaced by a humble, ‘more excellent’ treasure.

This broke my heart

GodNeverSinned.com from Aaron Shafovaloff on Vimeo.

Why Easter isn't Christmas

A fascinating article from Slate, on why Easter, despite the marshmallow Peeps and chocolate bunnies, stubbornly resists commercialization.

How pleasant it is in mid-December to open a Christmas card with a pretty picture of Mary and Joseph gazing beatifically at their son, with the shepherds and the angels beaming in delight. The Christmas story, with its friendly resonances of marriage, family, babies, animals, angels, and—thanks to the wise men—gifts, is eminently marketable to popular culture. It's a Thomas Kinkade painting come to life.

On the other hand, a card bearing the image of a near-naked man being stripped, beaten, tortured, and nailed through his hands and feet onto a wooden crucifix is a markedly less pleasant piece of mail.

Thanks to Tim Challies for the link.

Stricken, Smitten, and Afflicted

Stricken, smitten, and afflicted,
See Him dying on the tree!
’Tis the Christ by man rejected;
Yes, my soul, ’tis He, ’tis He!
’Tis the long expected prophet,
David’s Son, yet David’s Lord;
Proofs I see sufficient of it:
’Tis a true and faithful Word.

Tell me, ye who hear Him groaning,
Was there ever grief like His?
Friends through fear His cause disowning,
Foes insulting his distress:
Many hands were raised to wound Him,
None would interpose to save;
But the deepest stroke that pierced Him
Was the stroke that Justice gave.

Ye who think of sin but lightly,
Nor suppose the evil great,
Here may view its nature rightly,
Here its guilt may estimate.
Mark the Sacrifice appointed!
See Who bears the awful load!
’Tis the Word, the Lord’s Anointed,
Son of Man, and Son of God.

Here we have a firm foundation,
Here the refuge of the lost.
Christ the Rock of our salvation,
Christ the Name of which we boast.
Lamb of God for sinners wounded!
Sacrifice to cancel guilt!
None shall ever be confounded
Who on Him their hope have built.

To listen

It Is Well with My Soul

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul

It is well, with my soul
It is well, with my soul
It is well, it is well, with my soul

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come
Let this blest assurance control
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate
And hath shed His own blood for my soul

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought
My sin, not in part but the whole
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend
Even so, it is well with my soul

Where has this been all my life?

My pastor is preaching a series through the Sermon on the Mount, and to me it feels like the first time I've heard these things. How is it possible to live as a believer for over thirty years, and to have arguably the most familiar chapters of the Bible hitting me with such force and vigor?

Why do such basic concepts as trust and prayer seem wholly new? Why don't I yet understand that grace is God's power at work in my life?

God, help me to be the kind of person who:
*chooses prayer over manipulation
*believes others possess the same dignity as I
*fully realizes that God will get the job done better than I
*understands that I can't act in a way that doesn't fit the Kingdom to gain a result that does
*replaces my goals for God's goals

3/365

Dh finished installing our new dishwasher, and we are all very happy to have a dishwasher that's not falling to pieces.

The little guy has a fever, so I won’t be able to go to church tomorrow morning.

Dh insisted on me going to a Saturday night service so I wouldn’t be missing two weeks in a row (he’s on sound again), and found a service for me to attend at The Rock Church.

What an experience! I’m too old and married to fit in there, and even when I was young and single I would never have been cool enough, but it was still good to worship with the Body. We took communion and sang praises to our God, and if my ears are still ringing a bit, it was worth it to see God working in a new way.

From the church bulletin: Too loud? Although we try to find the perfect balance in volume each week, there isn't one, and personal preferences in this area vary widely. If the music is too loud for you, please stop by the Storefront where we have ear plugs available free of charge.

Just to be clear

I did not vote for President-Elect Barack Obama. My strong preference would have been for Senator McCain, primarily because of his support of the sanctity of life.

However, in just a little over two months Mr. Obama will be the President of the United States. My country, and my president. And I wish him the very best as he leads my nation, because his success will mean good for the country I love.

I will be praying for President Obama and his family, for their safety and for wisdom. May God grant him understanding, and direct his path.

The more I read, the more I appreciate John Piper

Yesterday's article is another good one.

With Hope

With Hope


This is not at all how
We thought it was supposed to be
We had so many plans for you
We had so many dreams
And now you've gone away
And left us with the memories of your smile
And nothing we can say
And nothing we can do
Can take away the pain
The pain of losing you, but ...

We can cry with hope
We can say goodbye with hope
'Cause we know our goodbye is not the end, oh no
And we can grieve with hope
'Cause we believe with hope
(There's a place by God's grace)
There's a place where we'll see your face again
We'll see your face again

And never have I known
Anything so hard to understand
And never have I questioned more
The wisdom of God's plan
But through the cloud of tears
I see the Father's smile and say well done
And I imagine you
Where you wanted most to be
Seeing all your dreams come true
'Cause now you're home
And now you're free, and ...

We have this hope as an anchor
'Cause we believe that everything
God promised us is true, so ...

We wait with hope
And we ache with hope
We hold on with hope
We let go with hope

By Steven Curtis Chapman

In memory of Maria Sue Chapman, 2003-2008

Fajitas and the Sovereignty of God

Tonight our family went out for a celebratory dinner, having completed a transaction that ended an unfortunate association. We went to The Mayan, a restaurant with "Mayan" cliff divers acting out hyperbolic dramas and randomly diving, jumping, and falling into the safely chlorinated pool below their rocky stage. The kids love it, and dh and I have taken them there for birthdays and when family visits.

Tonight was the first time we've been since the place was renovated and the menu revamped. They no longer serve fajitas, but have a dish called something like Fajita Adventure, which I guess is supposed to be a classier take on fajitas. Instead of the classic flavors and sides, it had poblano peppers and onions, a black bean and corn salsa, a side of some kind of rice pilaf, and a dab of sour cream and picante sauce. No lettuce or cheese, no guacamole, and the steak didn't have the classic fajita seasonings.

I tried not be negative, but dh could tell that I wasn't really enjoying it. And then he said something that really struck me. He said that he didn't want me ordering fajitas anymore when we went out, because they always fell short of the fajitas at El Rodeo and I was always disappointed.

El Rodeo was a little Mexican restaurant in our hometown. Their food was sensational, and I have so many good memories of meals eaten there with friends and family. Some pivotal moments in my life happened in that place, full of the smells of good food and the sound of happy conversations and the cook in the kitchen, singing along with the Mexican radio station.

Some unfortunate business decisions led to the restaurant closing, and ever since then I've been on a fruitless search for a fajita that can bring me back to El Rodeo.

What I realized tonight, though, was that even when I do find that perfect fajita once again, it still won't bring back the place that I loved, with its corner booth and carnival music. That place is gone forever. The last time I visited my hometown, the former restaurant was being used as a Pilates studio. I wondered as I drove past if the diligent people excercising there ever caught a hint of freshly made tortilla chips and salsa.

I miss my home. And what's funny is, if I were home right now I'd still be missing parts of that home that no longer exist. Restaurants shut down. People move away. Relationships change, sometimes radically. Churches close their doors.

My children have already learned the lament of missing our old house, missing Grandpa and Grandma, missing their aunts and uncles. And as I tell them, so, too, I remind myself: where we live now is a good place, we'll see the people we love again, and God is on His throne.

None of these things came as a suprise to Him.

I need a good fajita recipe. By the time summer rolls around, I intend to have a killer version of my very own.