Serenity

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

It is the only way I am going to make it through. For a minute there, I thought I was not going to need God. Fool that I am. I am so grateful that I do. I just hate to keep forgetting, and then go through the "opportunity" once again of remembering. I am grateful for the "opportunity" as well.

Fear has been upon me these last several days/weeks/months. How long have I been turning my gaze from my Beloved only to gaze upon my own pride.

I hope that fear is gone. I am perfectly loved. But then I forget. How can I forget that I am so loved. Maybe that is heaven. Not forgetting.

Father, forgive me this stupid pride. It hurts so badly to see how far I have wandered from my Home. I am doing my best. My best just isn't good enough.

Rest

What a treat to have a day of rest. Not about work to do, but to say no to anxiety. To say no to poverty. To say no to fear. To say no to picking up old baggage. To say no to striving for heaven. To say no to lovelessness. To say no to shame.

Thank you Father for wanting me. And thank you for wanting everyone else home enough to send your only begotten son to show us. Have mercy on the hard of heart. Bring us back to the moment of awe. To the moment we knew there was more.

Free

Free.
Free to dance or not.
Free to be loud or not.
Free to agree or not.
Free to believe weird stuff...or not.
Free to say no.
Free to say yes.
Free to say maybe.
Free to be loved and have that be absolutely enough.
Free to be grateful because it is the answer.
Free to live like the child of the King, and treat everyone else like that, too.
Free to feel sorry but not be sorry.

Thanks for my home, Daddy. Thanks for my family.

In the meantime, enjoy the ride

Since I really don't know anything about surfing on a board, and though I did a fair bit of east coast kayak surfing, I probably have a very simple perspective on the thing. But of course that never keeps me or anyone else from opining.

Sit on the beach and criticize.
Go out in the surf and scream and beat on the waves.
Paddle out, watch, turnaround, paddle, ride, wipe out, survive, learn, paddle out, repeat.

One choice produces fun. One choice inspires. One choice produces awe moments over and over and over and over...

Someone said that 50 percent of success is showing up. Maybe.
100% of success is going back out and standing up again.

Daddy, You make it so good to be in Your family. Thank you. It is so good to be home. Hold me, please.

Beauty

Everyone has a chance at awe and wonder. Everyone has an opportunity to look at beauty, and know that the inexplicable is on display. Not that the phenomenon can not be explained. But that the beauty can not be explained. The heart catches at the sight, sound or scent, and is held in awe of the beauty. This marks the beginning of the quest for God.

Now to have found the way home to God, the splendor never stops. With, and beyond sensation, the embrace, the rhythm, the immensity, the warmth, the enveloping, the motion, the grace of the embrace, the peace that passes understanding. The beauty of walking in the garden with Him.

Thank You, Father for the beauty of knowing, beyond feeling.

Yes

What a joyful day. A day full of Yes.

The really cool thing is the realization that it just keeps getting better. In the Kingdom, a member of the royal family, settled at home, with a place at the table, surrounded by glory, not alone, no longer Fatherless, no longer an orphan. Not going to be kicked out. Welcome to stay. Meeting new family members every day. Building for the future. Resting. Delivered. Free. With access to limitless hope.

Wow.

Knowing

Certainty. Knowing. Now I understand why people do not get it when we say we are in love with Jesus.

They have been in love. They have been lost in that brainless euphoria and still did not have certainty. Knowing was absent. Especially if they had been in love before. They know it is a drug that wears off. Great drug, though. Great drug. But just a drug.

I am not in love with Jesus. It is a poor, inaccurate way of expressing this Christian faith. Better, much better to say, that I am home in Christ. Every answer is in Him. Everything missing is found in this Life. Everything broken is restored in Christ. Everything that needs to be known to make me fully alive and free is right here and will never change. I know.

Father, You have done it. And we thank you. What a place to rest and heal.

Christmas

The Christ Mass. Gotta learn the origins of that word Mass.

My friend Steve and I were talking about Southern colloquialisms. I had learned in Alabama about going out after work and catching a mess of brim (bream, pan fish, sunfish, bluegills.) He confirmed, as a native son of South Carolina, that a mess was enough for supper. In a broader sense, a mess of something was enough. What you needed. Could just as easily be a mess of collard greens.

To connect "mass" and "mess" in origins and meanings is a huge leap. But I like them, so I will take it.

When I stop to have some Christ, can I get a mess of Him? Can I get enough to satisfy? No doubt. Can we, around a table, get enough of Him for all of us? Been there. Again, no doubt. If every believer took one day, let's say December 25, stopped and had some Christ, would there still be enough left for an unbeliever to reach up and find complete satisfaction as well?

I believe so.

So, what I am saying then, is that Jesus is a mess. He satisfies. I knew it before Pastor Jakes said it, and I had the words for it after. He satisfies. If Oliver Twist came and asked for more, he would find his more in Christ.

Father, thank you for the banquet that is Christ. Thank you for your family gathered around the table, partaking of the richness you have made ours. Thank you that this year there will be more of us around the table than last year...and that some day every prodigal son and daughter will be home, to satisfy Your heart. Merry Christmas, Daddy.

I Want To Do This

I look at the stats to see if there are page views. I look to see where when how what is being viewed. I wonder why somebody in South Korea keeps coming back or has subscribed. The connection, and the few comments, are exciting. It feels good.

Maybe I need to fast that stuff for a season to see how much regular writing is driven by that stuff.

Because there is a connection with God here that is unlike any other. Doing this writing, this way gets a big Holy Ghost YES. When I sit down here, it is the most right things get. At least on this side of eternity.

Home. The home I was made for. Right here. Not just later, in heaven.

Daddy, call your children home. Sure, heaven if it is time. But please continue the call I heard that brought my whole heart to rest. There is so much room in Your perfect embrace. Like chicks under Your wing. It is the only way to find the Kingdom path. Once here in the arms of Love, thank You that the path onward never leaves Your embrace.

20101028

Where is Mom? Just watched a program with a "strong mom" theme. The are everywhere you look, popular, and without societal rejection. Humans like moms, and strong moms.

The thing that I am pointing to is that human stories reflect the God story, His-Story, all of the time. The themes are about good fathers, and about super heroes, redeeming ordinary people from death. And they are about good strong mothers.

It is also not hard to find a TV program featuring a stupid dad (d'oh) dominated by a smart mom. and stories of moms gone bad. Then there are the super heroes who are not very super. Frankly, I believe all of these pictures of failure end up guiding us to the only pictures of perfection.

But part of this stream of thought goes back to last night. I have to deliberately grow nearer to the Holy Spirit. Somehow I think there is momming there. Though at the same time there is momming going on in Fathers lap.

No real destination here. Just a hunger to draw and stay nearer to God, and find all that I need in all that He is. Thank you for the Way.

201010262153

You need a Father. I just heard a man I respect say that from the platform.

I have a Father. My friend Jack introduced Him to me. I had known and trusted His Son for a while. I went dancing with His Spirit regularly. They made a way for me to meet my Father, but Jack was the one who told me I could crawl up there and snuggle. Daddy, give Jack a hug for me.

Aunt Bea paved the way. She told me it was time to stop looking for a teacher. But she did not say what followed forsaking "a teacher."

Then I met Jack and had my answer. All riders leave the train here. Last station stop. Home. Father. Rest. Done. No need to look any further.

You need a Father. With Father is Shalom. Everything needed is here, though there is not much here. The desert wind strips away the decoration, any facade that might be left. The utter cold of night fractures everything that can not gain access to the private family quarters in the back of the tent. Where there is warmth that is and was and ever shall be. There is one resting place deep in my Fathers bosom...and there is plenty of room.

Father, thank you that I need empty hands and shoeless, clean feet to make the toddler climb up into your lap. It is so good to be home.