Somehow, someway, He WILL be the stability of our times, even if right now we can’t comprehend it, sense it, or be able to believe for it.
Oceans of Justice Rivers of Fairness Scripture Artwork inspired by Amos 5:24, The Message.
Dear Grief, You are the faithful companion I never wish I had, yet somehow you bring a sense of comfort to my life by making me face my pain. You make me be vulnerable; you make me be honest, no matter the expense. How am I supposed to endure a lifetime knowing that you are…
Seek Love Artwork inspired by Micah 6:8.
Marching through a hometown bridge,
Speaking from a memorial’s steps,
Sitting on the wrong side of the bus
Penning unforgettable words,
Handing knock-out punches in the ring,
Each of these historic acts remind us
Of the costs in seeking liberty…
It’s often easier to bring what we do have to God. When we look around our lives and identify the gifts, the talents, and the material possessions in our lives, we can more easily gather them together and place them before God and use them to serve others. We can use our gifts and talents to create or dream-up something, we can gather items from our pantry and use them to serve the needy, we can even collaborate with someone else and together create and share something tangible that will satisfy someone else’s need. But what do we do about the lack that we experience in our own life? What do we do with our own brokenness? Read on for more encouragement in surrendering and offering our brokenness to God during unfamiliar and uncomfortable seasons.
A few days after my grandmother went to heaven, my mom and I spent some time together sorting and organizing the personal treasures and trinkets my grandmother had left behind. As we looked through photos, clothes and other personal belongings, we couldn’t help but dwell on the remarkable woman that she was.
Since my childhood there were certain things that my grandmother displayed in her house which I begun to treasure. I could look around her home and see things I could identify with, things I wanted for very my own. For each and every one of those things, my mother likely knew a story about how my grandmother had come to own that very item, stories that she had witnessed or had a hand in making happen. Stories that were heart-warming, stories that I never knew. As my mom and I went through my grandmother’s clothes, I remember my mom handing me one of grandma’s batitas (nightgowns) as she lovingly said…