His King had already made his own mysterious pronouncement—
It is finished
The anger flows through my veins, the helplessness of ordinary losses
Nothing like a martyr’s death
And yet in both cases the mysterious sentence hangs over the grief, anger, loss and unanswered questions
It is finished
Until the sky opens wide for each of us in relief or judgment
Hope your name will be changed
Pray your sins will be forgiven
And you will know how
To define both “finished” and “rock”
In his Word,
Ours are not enough
Psalm 22:29-31 KJV [29] All they that be fat upon earth shall eat and worship: all they that go down to the dust shall bow before him: and none can keep alive his own soul. [30] A seed shall serve him; it shall be accounted to the Lord for a generation. [31] They shall come, and shall declare his righteousness unto a people that shall be born, that he hath done this.
For the past 50 years or more our culture has been dominated by a lie that can be encapsulated by “between a woman and her doctor.”
This phrase is a subset of a bigger “right to privacy” ethos in law and medical ethics which has led to a wide range of repercussions.
But what if there was no privacy in the discussion and what if the medical decision was made by aesthetic consensus rather than some other more anchoring standard of care?
I am referring to two recent studies that involved asking medical students (of both genders) to view and rate women’s chests.
Why was this necessary? Ostensibly for plastic surgery.
Ladies, please be advised, when people start photographing, rating, and categorizing your briskets, you may need to ask yourself whether those people are
I begin to doubt the integrity of the prayers when there are small words inserted to create distance between the woman herself, the gossamer tendrils of law and mercy, and the gaping maw of life-limiting-six-months.
You knew her, right?
The beautiful love story and the broken loneliness?
The way two old people can alarm their neighbors by arguing in the yard?
The steep front steps?
The cartoonishly lovable cat?
She spoke clearly about the dismay she felt decades ago as she watched her own mother sink
The light is falling which means that as the short blue explosions of light subside, the longer, slower pinks and yellows and reds flood
The sky, the man-made lake, and the little girl who looks with every fiber of her being for Beauty in the form of a Friend
Where is he? Her arms and legs geometric as she peers towards the fence, the friend she has missed, like a lost brother, all these years in exile
Your rod and your staff will comfort me
the bamboo stick fished from the river in her hand as her older sister recounts the story of Aaron (and Moses) casting down a rod only to see if transformed into a snake and a snake that eats the snakes of all who oppose them!
“I wish I could turn a staff into a snake!” She exclaims with envy. As though this were a thing little girls did with prophetic regularity.
I tell her she should aim to just practice treating Jesus like a friend who sticks closer than a brother.
First, I was hit hard by your story, your extreme youth, your face in the photo, then I was hit by the strangeness of the term.
Is this, like the MAID, the pharmaceutical death, and the ornate Cross on the logo, another Canadian difference? What is this “enichement?”
Google corrected my search twice to “enrichment,” before I found the true meaning.
The similarities are haunting—two young men go willingly to their deaths.
One buys drugs at a local pharmacy and dies in a funeral home.
The other endures the torture of a Roman execution.
Both are entombed.
But what happens after that depends entirely on the power of the older man
To be
The Resurrection and the Life.
John 11:1,3,14,21-26 KJV [1] Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha. [3] Therefore his sisters sent unto him, saying, Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick. [14] Then said Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead. [21] Then said Martha unto Jesus, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. [22] But I know, that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee. [23] Jesus saith unto her, Thy brother shall rise again. [24] Martha saith unto him, I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day. [25] Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: [26] And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this?
I stop by the Goodwill to look for bins that could be used to wash clothes or organize them if the machine is transformed by answered prayers and there is a shelf with sheets that bear a passing resemblance to those I once bought for my mother’s house transformed first to a short term rental and then back to a family home.
Maybe the roosters just sound the alarm because of the light of the fire like a tiny sun from near earth waking them from peaceful slumber
Carrying Light 