Thinking on these things . . .

"When peace like a river attendeth my way  When sorrow like sea billows roll  Whatever my lot,   Thou hast taught me to say  It is well, it is well with my soul." How long does that take?  How many lessons until one can say - "whatever their lot" - that it is well with their soul? Here is the value of a long obedience in the same direction.  Here is where a lifetime of faith stands to answer the question. How does one learn that the Lord is faithful? By going through many things one wishes to never have had happened. Who would chose hardship? pain? difficulty? disappointment? financial downturn, poor health, or stressful circumstances?   I'm not seeing many raised hands... But to get the point where we can stand in our churches and sing these words honestly...well, we have to go through those lessons. Through the experiences of our lives we find that our God is good and loving and gracious and faithful and s...

Because of how the space time continuum works, it is impossible for us to truly go back and remember how we used to be now that we are who we are.  That being said, there are ways that give us a pretty good idea; our own memories, the memories of others, writings, and , the thing that never lies, pictures. A snapshot from the past is always an interesting thing is it not?  Nothing like seeing a picture and remembering that  once you were probably thinner, less wrinkled, had non-gray or more hair, and, to current eyes, a really bad sense of fashion! This weekend I was treated to some snapshots via music as I pulled out some CD’s (hey, at least they weren’t eight tracks!) from ten and twenty plus years ago.  The first was the oldest, a pop artist whose every lyric I identified with.  His sentiments were my own.  This was my music, my story.   It was like seeing myself with an 80’s perm… The music was angst-driven – ask my kids...

I've been seeing #Sundayscoming a lot this season and I get it and I love it - yes, Easter Sunday is just around the corner - Alleluia, Amen, Christ will be risen from the grave! But today it's Saturday. Typically I miss Saturday.  I observe Maundy Thursday and Good Friday.  I leave sanctuaries sad and solemn, aware that the payment for my sin was causing Christ great pain. I exit awed and grateful. And then it's this morning and I watch the sun come up and plan my Easter menu and activities and do some baking and cleaning and generally have a regular day because I already know what's happening tomorrow.   And I miss it. I miss where we actually live; we live here in the "Now what? Saturday". Any loss, after the shock has lessened, brings this question.  Loss of ability, of a job, of a position, of possessions; after the incredulousness of  "I can't believe that just happened" comes the "now what?". The older I get the m...