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you cut me down to size and opened up my eyes. |
for this reason also, since the day we heard this, we haven't stopped praying for you. we are asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of His will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding, so that you may walk worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to Him, bearing fruit in every good work and growing in the knowledge of God. may you be strengthened with all power, according to His glorious might, for all endurance and patience, with joy giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the saints' inheritance in the light He has rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of the Son He loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
my colours are clear
there is controversy about who wrote this, but i really like it nonetheless.
i am part of the fellowship of the unashamed.
i am part of the fellowship of the unashamed.
the die has been cast.
the decision has been made.
i am a disciple of jesus.
therefore, I won’t look back, let up, slow down, back away, or be still.
my past is redeemed. my present is empowered. my future is secure.
i’m done with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tamed visions, mundane talking, cheap giving, and dwarfed goals.
i no longer need preeminence, prosperity, position, promotions, praise, or popularity.
i don’t have to win, be first, be right, recognised, regarded or rewarded.
i now live by faith, lean on His presence, love with patience, live by prayer, and labor with power.
my goal is God's glory.
my face is set.
my pace is fast.
my road is narrow, my way is rough, my companions are few, my guide is reliable and my mission is clear.
i cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded or delayed.
i will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of adversity, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity.
i won’t give up, shut up, let up or slow up until i have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, and spoken up for the cause of Christ.
i must go until he comes, give until I drop, preach until all know, and work until He stops me.
Christ has qualified to become a part of the fellowship of the unashamed.
i am His and He is mine.
jesus+nothing=everything
'the only people who really get better are those people who understand that if they never get better God will still love them.
legalism says "God will love us if we change."
the gospel says "God will change us because in Christ He has infinitely loved us."
so, become increasingly who you already are.'
- tullian tchividjian
legalism says "God will love us if we change."
the gospel says "God will change us because in Christ He has infinitely loved us."
so, become increasingly who you already are.'
- tullian tchividjian
nothing is loosed
there are no small things.
for where your treasure is, there you heart will be also.
no one can serve two masters.
and so it is.
seek first His kingdom and His righteousness.
(even when i'm just doing my laundry.
or making a sandwich for work that day.)
i don't have answers for much except to pray ephesians three.
and trust jesus' words.
'and surely i am with you always, to the very end of the age.'
or making a sandwich for work that day.)
i don't have answers for much except to pray ephesians three.
and trust jesus' words.
'and surely i am with you always, to the very end of the age.'
i can't take my eyes off of you.
i can't take my mind off of you.
everything is tied up.
seek first.
simple and certain.
disparity
don't assume anyone expects the world of you. they're probably just as scared of being given the smallest corner of your life, as you are of placing it in their hands.
it's hard not to be selfish if you can't exercise self control.
i am afraid that because my heart wanders i will spend more of my days in the wilderness than in the land of plenty.
discipline is not a bad word.
(the sacrifice pleasing to God is a broken spirit. and He will not despise a broken and humbled heart.)
it's hard not to be selfish if you can't exercise self control.
i am afraid that because my heart wanders i will spend more of my days in the wilderness than in the land of plenty.
discipline is not a bad word.
(the sacrifice pleasing to God is a broken spirit. and He will not despise a broken and humbled heart.)
someone else's blog
i read something interesting today.
i like the way donald miller writes.
i don't agree with everything he has ever written, but i like the way he writes.
and i like his name.
donald is a great name.
i like the way donald miller writes.
i don't agree with everything he has ever written, but i like the way he writes.
and i like his name.
donald is a great name.
handiwork
the distance from my car parked in the driveway to my front door is perfect.
on clear nights, it gives me just enough time to glimpse a ceiling of dark black night freckled with bright light and to stand underneath it in simple awe.
sometimes there is a cheshire cat moon.
but all i can ever say is, 'yes, You are wonderful.'
on clear nights, it gives me just enough time to glimpse a ceiling of dark black night freckled with bright light and to stand underneath it in simple awe.
sometimes there is a cheshire cat moon.
but all i can ever say is, 'yes, You are wonderful.'
ham, cheese and avocado
cheese toasties made in the oven grill are one of my favourite everyday foods to eat.
i have a dear friend who i like to make them with.
we have made them in many different seasons of life.
we are both petrified of the possibility of thinking you could spend the rest of your life with just one person. mostly because it seems impossible to ever know who it could be.
obviously, you'll have to like making cheese toasties with them.
otherwise, i am ill-experienced to comment.
but part of me would like to say that you probably shouldn't settle for anyone, anywhere who thinks less of you than these words:
and if all the faces in the world
had half of your kindness
or half of your sweetness
then happy i would be.
today
today i am thankful for a lot of things.
i am thankful that i have a job.
i am thankful that God is so kind.
i am thankful for the april morning sun and autumn's cool breeze.
i am thankful that God answers prayers.
i am thankful for afternoon naps.
i am thankful that God takes us in and out of seasons of life to teach us and grow us and change us.
i am thankful for people who care.
i am thankful for a thermos and harrod's tea.
i am thankful that the thought of having something and losing it scares me less now than it used to.
i am thankful that godliness with contentment is great gain.
i am thankful that when my heart is unsettled, jesus is steadfast.
i am thankful for forgiveness.
i am thankful that when my heart is rejoicing, jesus is my reason.
i am thankful for little things and big things alike.
i am thankful that all these things are for His glory.
God is good.
God is good (all the time).
i am thankful that i have a job.
i am thankful that God is so kind.
i am thankful for the april morning sun and autumn's cool breeze.
i am thankful that God answers prayers.
i am thankful for afternoon naps.
i am thankful that God takes us in and out of seasons of life to teach us and grow us and change us.
i am thankful for people who care.
i am thankful for a thermos and harrod's tea.
i am thankful that the thought of having something and losing it scares me less now than it used to.
i am thankful that godliness with contentment is great gain.
i am thankful that when my heart is unsettled, jesus is steadfast.
i am thankful for forgiveness.
i am thankful that when my heart is rejoicing, jesus is my reason.
i am thankful for little things and big things alike.
i am thankful that all these things are for His glory.
God is good.
God is good (all the time).
wendy, once home
that moment where recognition
of regret and remorse mingle with submission
to mistakes made and lessons learned,
heart-wrestling the line between the forgiven and the forgotten
that i cannot tread perfectly.
peter wouldn't grow up.
and i am a belt notch.
(there is a song called 'peter' by elana tonra. i love it because it reminds me of a sort of brokenness. a brokenness that is overbearing, but fleeting. because Jesus is coming back. and i am going Home.)
of regret and remorse mingle with submission
to mistakes made and lessons learned,
heart-wrestling the line between the forgiven and the forgotten
that i cannot tread perfectly.
peter wouldn't grow up.
and i am a belt notch.
(there is a song called 'peter' by elana tonra. i love it because it reminds me of a sort of brokenness. a brokenness that is overbearing, but fleeting. because Jesus is coming back. and i am going Home.)
lessons
it's easy to pick out the splinters in other people's eyes.
yet, be blind to the planks in my own;
a mess of wood
so overwhelming
i can only fall to my knees.
yet, be blind to the planks in my own;
a mess of wood
so overwhelming
i can only fall to my knees.
a fleeting thought
i bake macarons with a girl called annabelle.
she mostly hates my music taste.
but we both love jesus.
so even though we're different, we're friends.
when our macarons fail we eat the semi-cooked and collapsed macaron shells straight off the baking paper.
it's a good way to spend a wednesday afternoon.
she mostly hates my music taste.
but we both love jesus.
so even though we're different, we're friends.
when our macarons fail we eat the semi-cooked and collapsed macaron shells straight off the baking paper.
it's a good way to spend a wednesday afternoon.
sometimes
quiet nights in are often best spent reading whilst listening to william fitzsimmons in your pyjamas.
i think you can tell a lot about a person from their words.
obviously.
but especially their spelling, punctuation and grammar.
and whether or not they know what caesura and enjambment mean.
i think you can tell a lot about a person from their words.
obviously.
but especially their spelling, punctuation and grammar.
and whether or not they know what caesura and enjambment mean.
small wonders
one of my favourite things is coming home to the sound of kenny rogers singing in the kitchen.
he is no lyrical or musical genius in my books.
but there's sentimentality to him and i'm a sucker for anything that tugs the heart strings.
and, when i hear him playing, if i'm careful, i can position myself just right on the front porch so as not to be seen through the blinds of the kitchen windows but with a good enough view myself of my parents, dancing together, softly swaying.
when i was younger, mum and dad would have dinner parties and mum always refused to go to sleep unless the kitchen was spotless and all the dishes and glasses were cleaned and packed up (or when we moved house, at least all in the dishwasher). mum always refused any help though, so dad would just sit and play music and talk to her while she cleaned away, stubbornly yet efficiently, alone. dad would play whatever his flavours of the month were at the time. my father has diverse taste in music so you never really knew what it was going to be.
there would always come a point in this clean-up ritual though, where mum would be in the middle of washing a glass or drying a knife, having just been asked whether she liked the song that was playing, and say something like 'what about that song by kenny g? the one about the years? i like that one.'
my parents are the definition of opposites. in an illustrated dictionary, a portrait of the two of them standing side-by-side could be there as the visual aid for the entry on 'antonymy'. but no matter what dad was playing, or how far through it they were, he would automatically press eject on the cd player and put in kenny rogers' 'simply the best' and skip to track twelve. it never took more than one verse before they were waltzing around mid-kitchen-clean-up.
my parents will have been married for twenty four years this year and they throw less dinner parties than they used to. but sometimes when mum is just puttering around the kitchen, she will make a comment about kenny g and dad will start playing old kenny rogers' track twelve and they will waltz, arm-in-arm, like they did late at night, when i was two, five, nine, twelve, sixteen years old.
and so i linger on the porch until the song comes to its fade-out end and turn my key in the lock and greet them with a smile, which they must think is some daughterly gesture of affection.
but as i walk up the half flight of stairs to my room, i know i'm only smiling because i know my dad won't have corrected my mum again tonight.
in all their twenty four years, not once has he told her she is wrong about it being kenny g.
he is no lyrical or musical genius in my books.
but there's sentimentality to him and i'm a sucker for anything that tugs the heart strings.
and, when i hear him playing, if i'm careful, i can position myself just right on the front porch so as not to be seen through the blinds of the kitchen windows but with a good enough view myself of my parents, dancing together, softly swaying.
when i was younger, mum and dad would have dinner parties and mum always refused to go to sleep unless the kitchen was spotless and all the dishes and glasses were cleaned and packed up (or when we moved house, at least all in the dishwasher). mum always refused any help though, so dad would just sit and play music and talk to her while she cleaned away, stubbornly yet efficiently, alone. dad would play whatever his flavours of the month were at the time. my father has diverse taste in music so you never really knew what it was going to be.
there would always come a point in this clean-up ritual though, where mum would be in the middle of washing a glass or drying a knife, having just been asked whether she liked the song that was playing, and say something like 'what about that song by kenny g? the one about the years? i like that one.'
my parents are the definition of opposites. in an illustrated dictionary, a portrait of the two of them standing side-by-side could be there as the visual aid for the entry on 'antonymy'. but no matter what dad was playing, or how far through it they were, he would automatically press eject on the cd player and put in kenny rogers' 'simply the best' and skip to track twelve. it never took more than one verse before they were waltzing around mid-kitchen-clean-up.
my parents will have been married for twenty four years this year and they throw less dinner parties than they used to. but sometimes when mum is just puttering around the kitchen, she will make a comment about kenny g and dad will start playing old kenny rogers' track twelve and they will waltz, arm-in-arm, like they did late at night, when i was two, five, nine, twelve, sixteen years old.
and so i linger on the porch until the song comes to its fade-out end and turn my key in the lock and greet them with a smile, which they must think is some daughterly gesture of affection.
but as i walk up the half flight of stairs to my room, i know i'm only smiling because i know my dad won't have corrected my mum again tonight.
in all their twenty four years, not once has he told her she is wrong about it being kenny g.
at the end of a long day
when i survey
the wondrous cross on which the Prince of Glory died,
my richest gain, i count but loss,
(and pour contempt on all my pride.)
forbid it Lord, that i should boast
save in the death of Christ my God.
all the vain things that charm me most,
i sacrifice them to His blood.
see from
His head
His hands
His feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
did e'er such love and sorrow meet?
or thorns compose so rich a crown?
were the whole realm of nature, that were an offering far too small.
love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul,
my life,
my all.
the wondrous cross on which the Prince of Glory died,
my richest gain, i count but loss,
(and pour contempt on all my pride.)
forbid it Lord, that i should boast
save in the death of Christ my God.
all the vain things that charm me most,
i sacrifice them to His blood.
see from
His head
His hands
His feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
did e'er such love and sorrow meet?
or thorns compose so rich a crown?
were the whole realm of nature, that were an offering far too small.
love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul,
my life,
my all.
'til i only dwell in Thee
Heartless: The Story of the Tin Man from Brandon McCormick on Vimeo.
this was released about ten months ago.
it should make you cry.
there's not much that is more heartbreaking than someone getting so lost in doing something for someone they love that they forget who they love and how to love them best.
but it's easy, and we all do.
it's that classic example of a spouse saying 'i'm too busy doing washing for you and cooking for you and cleaning for you and working for you'. while all the while it would be enough for the other if they were to simply to sit with them and say 'how was your day?'.
and i do it to jesus constantly. and i'm so sorry for it. because at the end of my days i don't want to be a tin man, old and rusty, forgetting who i've given my heart to.
i want to delight in you, jesus, and, at the end of it all, to rejoice in your sweet and precious promises, and sing 'my heart is yours, Love, yours alone, Love,' each and everyday, for forever.
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