Walking with a limp

I keep trying to walk with a straight leg but I don’t have that anymore.

I have a limp.

It’s more work to walk with a limp. It hurts. It slows me down.

But I can hear the voice of my Elder and friend in my head.   In my very first training on teaching many years ago, he taught us: ‘Never trust a teacher who doesn’t walk with a limp.

You win.

There are days when all my passionate topics and all the hills I’m ready to die on on get totally eclipsed by a glimpse of something bigger.  Days like December 5th.  Days like today.  When all that matters is that my God is on His throne and He is working all things for the good of those who love Him and all the foolish things that seem so important evaporate in the eternal.

Today I don’t care about scheduling or singleness. I don’t care about the fun I’m missing and I don’t care about the emails flooding my inbox. I don’t care about disputes and disagreements and I don’t care about insults or frustrations.

I am being restored

He restores my soul.

It might be one of the most famous passages of scripture:  

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. (Psalm 23:1-3 ESV)

He restores my soul.

My soul feels…tattered.  It feels bent and broken, by sin, by suffering, by this world.

But He restores my soul.

A prayer for my pal

[Happy birthday to my sweet Hosea.  This little kiddo probably already has more words prayed over him than most people in the world, and I trust that must mean that God has glorious plans for him.  Please join me in praying for Hosea on his third birthday.]

Father,

Thank you for the fearful and wonderful crafting of the soul of Hosea.  Thank you that all the days of his life were written before one of them came to be.  

Will you send your Spirit into him even now?  Own his heart for your inheritance. Will you take this prayer for him and make it more than words? Make it real and tangible evidence of your power and grace.

Perseverance in disguise

I still remember the way the chair squealed slightly as she twisted toward me.  I remember the thinly veiled urgency in her voice as she looked at me with pleading eyes and asked me: ‘Where is He?!’

I remember the rasp of desperation in her tone and I remember feeling a moment of doubt.  It was one of the first times I realized that my churchey answers weren’t enough for the hurting and the broken.  My simple and shallow theology didn’t know what to do with a God who wasn’t showing up.Screen Shot 2014-05-25 at 7.51.57 PM