Emily Cook's Blog, page 26
January 20, 2014
I dare you to linger
My son, the one with the tummy aches, and the needy arms,and the whining, whining, whining--he teaches me.
My son wants me. He wants just me, not something I can do for him. I’d rather draw him a picture, make him a tent, bake him 12 dozen cookies, but no. He wants me, there, sitting under him, present.
Just me.
But I am a doer, a mover, and I find it so hard to just be; to just give me.
And later, my husband comes home, and I am glad to see him, in a way. I am glad for the extra hands that can keep the kids out of the kitchen while I make dinner. I’m glad for someone else to help referee; for someone else who can help check something off my list for me. It is often only later (if at all) that I remember him, that I delight in time with him, just him.
What is more important? The “stuff” I accomplish, or the people around me? The people, of course, and yet, how often do I trample over them for the sake of the “getting stuff done?”
Furthermore (sin upon sin!) this addiction to productivity spills over into my prayers. When I remember, I ask God for little things, like patience, and daily bread. He helps, and I use those gifts to get stuff done. When I am desperate, I ask Him for bigger things, like forgiveness, and redemption. And He gives those things, too. And I take things in my greedy hands, and I move on, as quickly as I can, to get stuff done.
It is rare for me to linger with God.
But our Father is patient with us, and He invites us to linger.
As John Kleinig explains,
“When we knock at the door of our parent’s house, they don’t ask us what we want; they invite us in. Like our parents, God the Father opens the door for us when we come to ask Him for something and lets us in. Therefore we don’t just get something from God when we pray; we receive God the Father, His company, and life with Him. That is the unexpected bonus of prayer.” (Grace Upon Grace p. 165).
God- our good, kind Father- He hears our prayers, and gives so much more. He invites us in.
He gives us His very Self.
Father, teach me to pray.Teach me to receive.Teach me to linger.
Amen.
---------------------
This is the third post in this month's series:
Grow Backward with Me
Will you (re)learn how to be a child with me?I double-dog dare you.
--------------------------If you liked this post, consider sharing it with a friend!
You may also enjoy my published works:
Weak and Loved (A Mother-Daughter Love Story) an inspirational story of God’s grace
Tend to Me (Devotions for Mothers) for Mothers who tend to everyone else— May Jesus Himself Tend to YOU.
------------------------
Do you find it hard to "linger?"Share your thoughts with me in the comments!
My son wants me. He wants just me, not something I can do for him. I’d rather draw him a picture, make him a tent, bake him 12 dozen cookies, but no. He wants me, there, sitting under him, present.
Just me.
But I am a doer, a mover, and I find it so hard to just be; to just give me.
And later, my husband comes home, and I am glad to see him, in a way. I am glad for the extra hands that can keep the kids out of the kitchen while I make dinner. I’m glad for someone else to help referee; for someone else who can help check something off my list for me. It is often only later (if at all) that I remember him, that I delight in time with him, just him.
What is more important? The “stuff” I accomplish, or the people around me? The people, of course, and yet, how often do I trample over them for the sake of the “getting stuff done?”
Furthermore (sin upon sin!) this addiction to productivity spills over into my prayers. When I remember, I ask God for little things, like patience, and daily bread. He helps, and I use those gifts to get stuff done. When I am desperate, I ask Him for bigger things, like forgiveness, and redemption. And He gives those things, too. And I take things in my greedy hands, and I move on, as quickly as I can, to get stuff done.
It is rare for me to linger with God.
But our Father is patient with us, and He invites us to linger.
As John Kleinig explains,
“When we knock at the door of our parent’s house, they don’t ask us what we want; they invite us in. Like our parents, God the Father opens the door for us when we come to ask Him for something and lets us in. Therefore we don’t just get something from God when we pray; we receive God the Father, His company, and life with Him. That is the unexpected bonus of prayer.” (Grace Upon Grace p. 165).
God- our good, kind Father- He hears our prayers, and gives so much more. He invites us in.
He gives us His very Self.
Father, teach me to pray.Teach me to receive.Teach me to linger.
Amen.
---------------------
This is the third post in this month's series:
Grow Backward with Me
Will you (re)learn how to be a child with me?I double-dog dare you.
--------------------------If you liked this post, consider sharing it with a friend!
You may also enjoy my published works:
Weak and Loved (A Mother-Daughter Love Story) an inspirational story of God’s grace
Tend to Me (Devotions for Mothers) for Mothers who tend to everyone else— May Jesus Himself Tend to YOU.
------------------------
Do you find it hard to "linger?"Share your thoughts with me in the comments!
January 18, 2014
January 13, 2014
I dare you to rest.
It strikes me that it requires a certain amount of faith to stop “doing stuff,” and to simply rest.
Of course, I’m not talking about the type of “rest” that overtakes you due to sheer exhaustion, flattening you out on the kitchen floor or wherever else you happen to be when your body just quits. That’s simply collapsing.
Resting, however, requires a measure of faith. It is utterly impossible for the one who thinks too highly of herself, who insists on being the grown-up all the time, and who has forgotten how to live like a child.
How is it possible to rest, for the one who believes any of the following:
I am the glue that holds the world together.I will never feel better/refreshed/caught up until my to-do list is empty.I don’t “deserve” a nap when I could be doing something productive.My body is a machine. Rest is for wimps.The world cannot sustain itself without me actively employing my skills in it, not even for an hour.
When I think too highly of myself, and too little of God, I cannot rest, cannot stop, cannot nap. To the soul who cannot stop, God speaks:
In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat— for he grants sleep to those he loves. Psalm 127: 2
This verse is not all comfort to me, as it reminds me that my work— my well-done, eager, sweaty work— may actually be done in vain.
In vain you organize drawers and wipe the floor by the toilet, for they shall return, destroying. In vain do you wash and cook those veggies, for they shall not eat them, and complaints shall pound your ears.
The repeated chores in my vocation may indeed be done in vain. Scarier still, the whole project— carrying, birthing, and caring for these bodies, the tucking and praying and singing and disciplining— could perhaps be in vain, should a child forsake Him who loves them.
How can I rest when the enemy seeks to devour?
To the soul who cannot stop, God speaks:
Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the guards stand watch in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat— for he grants sleep to those he loves. Psalm 127-1-2
Unless the Lord builds. Unless He watches. Unless He cares.
The child who realizes the future is entirely dependant on the Lord’s provision runs scared into the Father’s arms. Do you care? Are you building, watching, providing?
The Father is not angry, though we have had this conversation many times before. He embraces his child, enfolds her in His promises like a warm blanket. He sings to her of Jesus, of sinners reconciled, of love unto death. Do I care? Of course, child.
Come. Be loved.
Rest.
And the child hears this invitation to fear, love, and trust in God above all things. And this God is worthy of this whole-hearted, full-bodied, deeply-resting love.
And the overworked muscles unclench in the gentle warmth, and God, in His grace, gives rest.
It is finished— everything that matters, really, is already finished.
I shall lie down, and sleep, In peace.(Psalm 4)
This is the second post in this month's series:
Grow Backward with Me
Will you (re)learn how to be a child with me?I double-dog dare you.
--------------------------If you liked this post, consider sharing it with a friend!
You may also enjoy my published works:
Weak and Loved (A Mother-Daughter Love Story) an inspirational story of God’s grace
Tend to Me (Devotions for Mothers)
and for Mothers who tend to everyone else— May Jesus Himself Tend to YOU.
January 7, 2014
Grow Backward with Me
Grace frees me to be the child that I am and to ask my Father for help.
Have you noticed this sentence at the top of my blog? It has been there since the beginning. Every time I change little things about my blog, I consider changing it, and I just can’t do it. It is simply too near to my heart, too important, too close to summing up the essence of what it means to be “weak and loved,” which, in my mind, is the same as what it means to simply be a Christian.
Let me explain, for the newbies, and because I love to tell the story.
A few years ago, my little girl got sick. It was the kind of sickness that permeated our days and even haunted my dreams: the seizing, blue-lipped, shadow-of-death kind of sickness. And, I was not handling it well (severe understatement.)
And then words of God and man came to this girl with her angry fists and weeping eyes and flaccid faith:“People say, be strong, but I say, be weak, and be loved.”
And as I limped through that year, plagued by weakness on every side and within, I leaned heavy on the most important word in that sentence: LOVED.
Is it true? Does God really love us? This is the most important question, and the answer changes everything.
If there is no God, or if He is aloof, uncaring, or angry, then we cannot rest, we shall never rest. If we are not loved, then it is all on us- everything, from world poverty, to local politics, to fighting in the Middle East, to the wars waged against greed and anger and lust in our own hearts. It is All. On. You.
However, if God so loved the world that he sent His Only Son,If we are forgiven, redeemed,Purchased by the blood of Jesus,If He has provided a place for us,And we are His Bride;If He is our Father,And we are his children,And we are loved,LOVED…
Then we are free: free to be children, free to trust His work in us and outside of us, free to move forward even when we do not understand. We are free to be loved, to live loved.
We are free. Because of Jesus, because of God's grace, we are free. You are free.
So, I'll say it again. Say it with me, won't you?
Plagued by weakness? Go ahead and hate it. Hate it, but don’t let it define you, because Jesus has redefined you, even as He refines you.
Don’t waste time fighting it in your own strength, because Jesus will finish the work He started in you. Don’t pretend it’s so serious that you must hide it, because the seriousness of your sickness has been cured on the cross.
Step out into the light, the freedom of God’s grace in Jesus Christ, and live like the child that you are.
Grow backward with me.
This is the first post in this month's series:
Grow Backward with Me
Will you (re)learn how to be a child with me?
I dare you.
--------------------------If you liked this post, consider sharing it with a friend!
You may also enjoy my published works:
Weak and Loved (A Mother-Daughter Love Story) an inspirational story of God’s grace
Tend to Me (Devotions for Mothers)and for Mothers who tend to everyone else— May Jesus Himself Tend to YOU.
Have you noticed this sentence at the top of my blog? It has been there since the beginning. Every time I change little things about my blog, I consider changing it, and I just can’t do it. It is simply too near to my heart, too important, too close to summing up the essence of what it means to be “weak and loved,” which, in my mind, is the same as what it means to simply be a Christian.
Let me explain, for the newbies, and because I love to tell the story.
A few years ago, my little girl got sick. It was the kind of sickness that permeated our days and even haunted my dreams: the seizing, blue-lipped, shadow-of-death kind of sickness. And, I was not handling it well (severe understatement.)
And then words of God and man came to this girl with her angry fists and weeping eyes and flaccid faith:“People say, be strong, but I say, be weak, and be loved.”
And as I limped through that year, plagued by weakness on every side and within, I leaned heavy on the most important word in that sentence: LOVED.
Is it true? Does God really love us? This is the most important question, and the answer changes everything.
If there is no God, or if He is aloof, uncaring, or angry, then we cannot rest, we shall never rest. If we are not loved, then it is all on us- everything, from world poverty, to local politics, to fighting in the Middle East, to the wars waged against greed and anger and lust in our own hearts. It is All. On. You.
However, if God so loved the world that he sent His Only Son,If we are forgiven, redeemed,Purchased by the blood of Jesus,If He has provided a place for us,And we are His Bride;If He is our Father,And we are his children,And we are loved,LOVED…
Then we are free: free to be children, free to trust His work in us and outside of us, free to move forward even when we do not understand. We are free to be loved, to live loved.
We are free. Because of Jesus, because of God's grace, we are free. You are free.
So, I'll say it again. Say it with me, won't you?
Plagued by weakness? Go ahead and hate it. Hate it, but don’t let it define you, because Jesus has redefined you, even as He refines you.
Don’t waste time fighting it in your own strength, because Jesus will finish the work He started in you. Don’t pretend it’s so serious that you must hide it, because the seriousness of your sickness has been cured on the cross.
Step out into the light, the freedom of God’s grace in Jesus Christ, and live like the child that you are.
Grow backward with me.
This is the first post in this month's series:
Grow Backward with Me
Will you (re)learn how to be a child with me?
I dare you.
--------------------------If you liked this post, consider sharing it with a friend!
You may also enjoy my published works:
Weak and Loved (A Mother-Daughter Love Story) an inspirational story of God’s grace
Tend to Me (Devotions for Mothers)and for Mothers who tend to everyone else— May Jesus Himself Tend to YOU.
January 5, 2014
Hands Free Mama (Book Review)
Hands Free Mama: A Guide to Putting Down the Phone, Burning the To-Do List, and Letting Go of Perfection to Grasp What Really Matters! by Rachel Macy StaffordMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Thanks to my smartphone, I have everything at my fingertips: I can answer (almost) any question in seconds. I can connect with (almost) anyone I know at any time at all. And thanks to my smartphone, I never, ever, have to be bored again.
And yet, I, like many of you, have a nagging sense that this is a problem. I have a hunch, that connecting with everything and everyone everywhere all the time may actually have consequences for my relationships with those people who sit next to me on the couch, or who cry at my ankles while I “just post this picture real quick,” or who grab my arm when “I just need to reply to this one email, can you just WAIT?”
Rachel Macy Stafford, author of the new book Hands Free Mama is not just writing on a hunch. She writes as a friend, a mother, and a self-described “highly imperfect reformed yeller/hurry upper and recovering tech addict.” Her book is poignant, inspiring, and a must read for this generation, by which I mean anyone who spends a significant part of everyday “plugged in.”
This book is a book about distraction, and a call to everyone (especially mothers) to let go of the things that don’t really matter, so that your hands can be free to grasp what does.
Note on religion: Rachel’s book is sold at the Christianbook store, among other places, but I would not call this a specifically “Christian” book. Some mention is made of “God,” in general, but not Jesus. Rachel is writing to a wider audience in order to strengthen relationships and reorient people’s hearts towards home. Because of this, I place it in the self-help category, and I recommend it as a good, practical book for inspiration to change certain behaviors. However, please note that the Christian concepts of grace and forgiveness in Christ are lacking, as is encouragement to rely on God to truly change a person’s heart.
Personally, I have found this book quite helpful as I reassess the way I spend my hours. I am constantly called upon by my vocation as mother, and this in itself is overwhelming. Yet, how often do I add to that feeling of being overwhelmed simply by staying connected? While facebook might seem like a moment’s escape, and pinterest might promise to offer some fresh inspiration, I must ask myself, do they really? Do I use these tools to better perform my job, or do I let them distract me, overwhelm me, and even frustrate me, to the harm of those very people I claim to love the most?
I’ve read enough of Rachel’s works to know: she understands this struggle. She also struggles with slowing down, connecting, and grasping what matters. After I read her raw stories, and fed on her encouragement, I closed my laptop, looked my child full in the face, and said, “I’m so happy I’m your mommy.”
By sharing her story, Rachel draws the reader in, and urges us to consider our own stories. Will your child remember your lap as a place of welcome? Are you spending your time chasing what matters?
She does not demonize technology, and she wastes no time with this debate. Instead, she asks her reader: what must you do, or you will die?
Think on that for a moment.
What MUST you do, what do you absolutely have to do, or you will consider your life a failure, your days on this earth wasted?
Pin another recipe? “Like” a status? Share a funny ecard?
Or take an extra five minutes at bedtime to hear your child’s heart, to make them feel safe and loved?
As you consider your life in this new year, I encourage you to pick up a copy of Rachel’s book.
See also Rachel’s blog, http://www.handsfreemama.com/
More posts on the perpetual technology struggle, by yours truly:
Mama, Can that wait?
Read, Pray and Hug before you Click
I didn't mean it (Screen Free Week)
Open Arms and Heart (Aggie, naturally hands free)
View all my reviews
December 31, 2013
December 30, 2013
Back on the Wagon
Oh, the aftermath of vacation! The aftermath of traveling, the wreckage that is my house after these two crazy weeks! There was a Christmas hurricane, and it blew my routines and systems away, filled my kids with junk food, and trashed my house!
I think these thoughts, sitting on the couch with coffee and no makeup, being climbed on by hyper children with no boundaries, and I sigh at the piles of Christmas stuff that needs to be incorporated into my system-less, routine-less house.
That's it. After all this stuff gets taken care of, we are ALL going back on the wagon!
There they are in my closet, those wonderful wagons that keep things running more smoothly. For the kids I get out the obey-your-mama wagon, the be-kind-to-your-siblings wagon, the remember-your-manners wagon, and the pick-up-your-stuff-or-else wagon.
For myself there is the flywagon, the exercise wagon, the be-consistent-with-the-kids wagon, the read-the-Bible-and-pray wagon, and the eat-healthy-foods wagon. But I can't seem to find that last one.. I know I used it last year... where IS that dumb thing?
Oh that's right, I covered it with cheese and I ate it.
----------------
Lord, have mercy on your weak children! As you have blessed us once again with another year, bless us also with wisdom in how we live it, and strength to do what we know we ought. Make us stronger in the most important things: love of You, love of our neighbor. And thank you that Your faithfulness to us is unchanging; Your resolve to show us your mercy, unwavering. May Your faithfulness and love that you show us in Jesus guard us throughout this year. Amen.
originally posted January 2012
I think these thoughts, sitting on the couch with coffee and no makeup, being climbed on by hyper children with no boundaries, and I sigh at the piles of Christmas stuff that needs to be incorporated into my system-less, routine-less house.
That's it. After all this stuff gets taken care of, we are ALL going back on the wagon!
There they are in my closet, those wonderful wagons that keep things running more smoothly. For the kids I get out the obey-your-mama wagon, the be-kind-to-your-siblings wagon, the remember-your-manners wagon, and the pick-up-your-stuff-or-else wagon.
For myself there is the flywagon, the exercise wagon, the be-consistent-with-the-kids wagon, the read-the-Bible-and-pray wagon, and the eat-healthy-foods wagon. But I can't seem to find that last one.. I know I used it last year... where IS that dumb thing?
Oh that's right, I covered it with cheese and I ate it.
----------------
Lord, have mercy on your weak children! As you have blessed us once again with another year, bless us also with wisdom in how we live it, and strength to do what we know we ought. Make us stronger in the most important things: love of You, love of our neighbor. And thank you that Your faithfulness to us is unchanging; Your resolve to show us your mercy, unwavering. May Your faithfulness and love that you show us in Jesus guard us throughout this year. Amen.
originally posted January 2012
December 29, 2013
A New Year
originally posted 12/31/11I sit at my computer and dream big. Oh, the lists I could make!
There so many are many things I want to read, do, write, organize, and tone!
I sit at my computer and think ahead.
I'm just not into it this year.
You all know I love my lists. But if I write that list of resolutions, I be assuming so many things... and this year, it is not so easy to assume.
I sit at my computer.
The four legs of my chair are holding me up, and my world seems solid. Normal. Predictable. Because of that, there is energy not just for writing lists but completing things.
If my days this year roll along as normal, I may do some productive things.
But I have no guarantee of "normal."
Four legs hold up my chair so I can type. If one breaks, I hit the floor. I won't be accomplishing much from down there.
How many things hold up my "normal?"
That would be a long list.
Friends. Church. Finances. Functioning Government. Good weather. Electricity. Internet. Six healthy children. My health. His health. Our parent's heath.
Not one of these things has been promised to stay intact this year.
So instead I think on the Solid Thing.
I think of Him, who has promised to never leave nor forsake me; to guide me in times of "normal;" to tend to me when I find myself on the floor.
Jesus.
Giver of Himself.
Daily bread.
Daily Word.
Daily gifts for my daily needs.
In 2014,
I resolve to receive.
Again.
Grace upon grace.
There so many are many things I want to read, do, write, organize, and tone!
I sit at my computer and think ahead.
I'm just not into it this year.
You all know I love my lists. But if I write that list of resolutions, I be assuming so many things... and this year, it is not so easy to assume.
I sit at my computer.
The four legs of my chair are holding me up, and my world seems solid. Normal. Predictable. Because of that, there is energy not just for writing lists but completing things.
If my days this year roll along as normal, I may do some productive things.
But I have no guarantee of "normal."
Four legs hold up my chair so I can type. If one breaks, I hit the floor. I won't be accomplishing much from down there.
How many things hold up my "normal?"
That would be a long list.
Friends. Church. Finances. Functioning Government. Good weather. Electricity. Internet. Six healthy children. My health. His health. Our parent's heath.
Not one of these things has been promised to stay intact this year.
So instead I think on the Solid Thing.
I think of Him, who has promised to never leave nor forsake me; to guide me in times of "normal;" to tend to me when I find myself on the floor.
Jesus.
Giver of Himself.
Daily bread.
Daily Word.
Daily gifts for my daily needs.
In 2014,
I resolve to receive.
Again.
Grace upon grace.
December 24, 2013
Christmas Eve
As we get ready for service, I think, “The mother who can get her little children to a Christmas program WITHOUT yelling is a superwoman.” And most definitely not me. The too-big socks, all white, the belts missing because you were hitting each other with them yesterday, the too-short pants, and the ever-loving other SHOE… and the baby with the too-short nap who is too grumpy even for Jesus’ birthday cake, already telling me he is NOT singing, clinging to my leg… and THEN, the one crying “I don’t want to be a sheep!” and the other child saying “You HAVE to be a sheep, Eldon,” which leads to an all-out screaming-crying-on-the-floor FIT, and after I "handle it," I tell all children that nobody is allowed to say the word “SHEEP” for the rest of the night.
But with a little help from Grammy Pammy (ok, a lot), we leave on time. Five kids in dress clothes, and one dressed as the Virgin Mary. I notice the nervous smiles on the older children, so I give a quick encouraging hug.
Somehow between the elbows and the threats and the craning to see,I was given moments,moments on each of their sweet faces with more depth than I could ever catch on camera.
Aggie's looking for me, in her green dress, while she sings and I can her her sweet voice over all the others. Finally she finds me, and when her eyes meet mine, she smiles into her song, and it gets louder, happier. She sings to make me smile and I am smiling my "glorias" up to the sky.
Lorraine, nearly eleven, not wearing her glasses because the real Mary would not have worn glasses. I wonder if her friends teased her about the boy. She was nervous about that, more so than her performance as Mary. The blue shawl is draped over her head, and her brown eyes sparkle as she sits by the manger with the boy she most certainly would not have chosen to be Joseph, and she smiles shyly as she holds the baby.
Seth is wearing a tie tonight, and he's up on the highest riser. This child, who is uncomfortable in large crowds, who spent our first year at this church hiding behind my leg; he is determined, serious. I don't know if he sees me, but it's almost time for him to take the microphone. He reads, clearly, confidently, and the moment is over. But the second he finishes, he looks right at me, and he sees my proud smile. He gives a subtle nod, receiving my message, and gives his shoes a tiny, satisfied smile. And I am suddenly overwhelmed with joy, with the privelage of being the one he looks for, the one whose approval goes right down into his heart and makes him smile like that.
The chaos is too much for Peter. He held me tightly, and when it is time to go up front, his wide eyes fill with tears and he says (lies) "My tummy hurts I need you to snuggle me!" (for the millionth time this month.) He refuses to go up front, so we watch his peers from the front row.
We watch Eldon stand proudly in his suit, sneaking peeks at me watching him and smiling whenever he caught my eye. And Marcus, in the front row, stands with his arms crossed and back to me. He turns to scowl and me and I take a picture of his dirty look. His scowl deepens.
Later, we pray, and I've had enough managing the pokey, wiggly, crazy boys to the left and right of me, on top of me, everywhere. Threatening whispers, firm squeezes, even mild mommy pinches do not slow the train barreling towards utter chaos.
But then, I hear it: the tiny Eldon voice, praying along with the Lord's prayer, just as he should! That deserves a smile and a "good job," and I give it to him immediately. He smiles back he puts his feet up on the back of the pew in front of us. For a second, he sits like a hammock with a proud smile, then his shoes slip and CRASH right on his behind. It must have hurt, but his eyes showed only shock and fear (of me), but then he sees my smirk and it spreads to his face, and though I try to stay serious and keep praying with him, we just barely hold back guffaws.
And the child in the front row is taking off his cowboy boots. And Peter will not stop touching my face and feeding me my necklace. And finally, we sing the last song and we go.
Merry, Merry Christmas, everyone.
God is with us, for us, in the chaos, in the darkness, right here.
Come, let us adore him!
December 22, 2013
re-oriented
How our eyes open, and our perspective shifts when we spend time in God's Word...
"Very often when I leave a place of worship, the first impression I have of the so-called "outside world" is how small it is - how puny its politics, paltry its appetites, squint-eyed its interests. I have just spent an hour or so with friends reorienting myself in the realities of the world - the huge sweep of salvation and the minute particularities of holiness - and I blink my eyes in disbelief that so many are willing to live in such reduced and cramped conditions. But after a few hours or days, I find myself getting used to it and going along with its assumptions, since most of the politicians and journalists, artists and entertainers, stockbrokers and shoppers seem to assume that it's the real world. And then some pastor or priest calls me back to reality with "Let us worship God," and I get it straight again, see it whole."
(Eugene H. Peterson, "Take and Read")
Father,
Grant that our attentions may not be swept away by little things. Grand that we may be immersed in Your Word, swept up by Your salvation story-- the story of all of history, that has become our story by the grace of Christ.
Amen
"Very often when I leave a place of worship, the first impression I have of the so-called "outside world" is how small it is - how puny its politics, paltry its appetites, squint-eyed its interests. I have just spent an hour or so with friends reorienting myself in the realities of the world - the huge sweep of salvation and the minute particularities of holiness - and I blink my eyes in disbelief that so many are willing to live in such reduced and cramped conditions. But after a few hours or days, I find myself getting used to it and going along with its assumptions, since most of the politicians and journalists, artists and entertainers, stockbrokers and shoppers seem to assume that it's the real world. And then some pastor or priest calls me back to reality with "Let us worship God," and I get it straight again, see it whole."
(Eugene H. Peterson, "Take and Read")
Father,
Grant that our attentions may not be swept away by little things. Grand that we may be immersed in Your Word, swept up by Your salvation story-- the story of all of history, that has become our story by the grace of Christ.
Amen
