i know i've said that before, but i don't think that i believe that it's true.
and i feel like a rotting piece of fruit on a kitchen counter filling the air with an acrid sweetness, having the form of something pleasing to the body, but lacking any goodness in nourishment, taste or touch.
i need help starting new habits, please.
and i need help breaking bad, old ones too.
fill me, Lord; i'm just tired.
strengthen me, Lord; i don't think i have the capacity.
and help me to remember, Lord,
that in the face of everything, the old covenant, the world or anything in the world, desires and plans, all that shimmers but fades,
jesus is better.
'and, behold, i am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest.'
and jacob's ladder is my ladder and his name is emmanuel, saviour, christ and king, jesus.
and some days i ache and cry because He feels so far away even though i know how near He is.
and because i just want so much for my mum and dad and sister to say ' then shall the LORD be my God' as jacob did.
but i am learning, more and more, to awake from my sleep saying 'surely the LORD is in this place and i knew it not'.
so i sit at the at the corner of laden and lofty, and wait for that tomorrow, soon, when even the highest of expectations will not be disappointed and where even to keep expecting more will not be expecting enough.
everyday, my heart is a feather and bricks establishment.
and some days i ache and cry because He feels so far away even though i know how near He is.
and because i just want so much for my mum and dad and sister to say ' then shall the LORD be my God' as jacob did.
but i am learning, more and more, to awake from my sleep saying 'surely the LORD is in this place and i knew it not'.
so i sit at the at the corner of laden and lofty, and wait for that tomorrow, soon, when even the highest of expectations will not be disappointed and where even to keep expecting more will not be expecting enough.
everyday, my heart is a feather and bricks establishment.
little darling
i spent the weekend sitting under scripture at a conference in katoomba, and have heard preach over the past week three faithful, wise and godly men who love jesus and who have a wealth of knowledge and life experience. praise God for His kindness.
and in all i've heard, i've realised that i so often ignore the kiss of God's word on my heart, and that i am very quick to let slip from my mind any anticipation of jesus' return and eternity that scripture instils in me.
in my life, His word is hardly the stoke for faith's fire that He has gifted it to me to be.
it's spring, finally.
and yesterday as i was hanging out my washing on the clothes line, the sun hit my back and the warmth met my skin. there's something about the coolness of winter that draws out the sweetness of that first spring kiss of sun. and my face couldn't help but overflow with a smile. a lightness pervaded my day, and the anticipation of that hot summer breeze on a balmy summer night has been enough fuel for the fading ember of motivation that is my current approach to university. there's two months left of semester and i'm counting the days. my eye is set on november sixth.
and i figure that my time spent listening to my creator and saviour and king and lord should probably be a lot more like that sun on my back than it is.
there should be joy.
there should be anticipation.
because i am a bad listener, i forget that any goodness now is like those few days of unseasonable warmth between the months of june to august when you can step outside with bare legs and enjoy it even though it's meant to be winter. any goodness now is like the spring that sets my eyes on summer. i should expect sinfulness and brokenness and relish, with thankfulness, the grace that God pours out when my brothers and sisters are more like jesus and when things stay put together. and all those big and small graces that He sets before us should have me counting the days until forever. my eye ought to be set.
how sweet a balm is the word of God to the lips of my chapped heart?
(so sweet, sweet as that first kiss of spring sun.)
and what joy shall fill that same chapped heart when the day of jesus' return dawns?
(the fullness of joy that is in no more night.)
for a while, i had forgotten what my favourite song was.
and i had forgotten why it was my favourite song.
but listening to it this morning makes both those forgetfulnesses seem very foolish, really.
it's been a long, cold, lonely winter.
but i am destined for a Son-kissed eternity.
and in all i've heard, i've realised that i so often ignore the kiss of God's word on my heart, and that i am very quick to let slip from my mind any anticipation of jesus' return and eternity that scripture instils in me.
in my life, His word is hardly the stoke for faith's fire that He has gifted it to me to be.
it's spring, finally.
and yesterday as i was hanging out my washing on the clothes line, the sun hit my back and the warmth met my skin. there's something about the coolness of winter that draws out the sweetness of that first spring kiss of sun. and my face couldn't help but overflow with a smile. a lightness pervaded my day, and the anticipation of that hot summer breeze on a balmy summer night has been enough fuel for the fading ember of motivation that is my current approach to university. there's two months left of semester and i'm counting the days. my eye is set on november sixth.
and i figure that my time spent listening to my creator and saviour and king and lord should probably be a lot more like that sun on my back than it is.
there should be joy.
there should be anticipation.
because i am a bad listener, i forget that any goodness now is like those few days of unseasonable warmth between the months of june to august when you can step outside with bare legs and enjoy it even though it's meant to be winter. any goodness now is like the spring that sets my eyes on summer. i should expect sinfulness and brokenness and relish, with thankfulness, the grace that God pours out when my brothers and sisters are more like jesus and when things stay put together. and all those big and small graces that He sets before us should have me counting the days until forever. my eye ought to be set.
how sweet a balm is the word of God to the lips of my chapped heart?
(so sweet, sweet as that first kiss of spring sun.)
and what joy shall fill that same chapped heart when the day of jesus' return dawns?
(the fullness of joy that is in no more night.)
for a while, i had forgotten what my favourite song was.
and i had forgotten why it was my favourite song.
but listening to it this morning makes both those forgetfulnesses seem very foolish, really.
it's been a long, cold, lonely winter.
but i am destined for a Son-kissed eternity.
time warp
restoring from backup from the twelfth of january is annoying. blergh.
looking at my phone right now, it's like the past six months of my life didn't happen.
looking at my phone right now, it's like the past six months of my life didn't happen.
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