Giving blood has become a fixed point in my life, comparable to only a couple of other routines - church, my chiropractic adjustment
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All in Life
Giving blood has become a fixed point in my life, comparable to only a couple of other routines - church, my chiropractic adjustment
The general Christian is like Judah — pooping in his diaper, peeing on the toilet seat, and beaming with pride.
Even should an accident claim one of my beloved children, my pain will never match that of a refugee fleeing the fear that overtakes them.
I've discovered that travel only "sinks in" for me if I am going with, to, or returning home to, people I love. This rules out a lot of the "finding yourself" travel-related nonsense a more whimsical version of myself might still be tempted to go looking for.
My children take great joy in the smallest things. And I enjoy their joy. Christian obedience is something like this. God, through His Spirit, works in us the smallest of obedience. This becomes the smallest of pleasures. And it pleases Him.
A crowd of migrant workers, waiting to be picked up by anyone, stepped closer to the car. He waved them off solemnly. When he asked me if I had a facebook, I said no.
Joy is no slave. Joy stands outside of that list, for it is hidden in what God has done, what He is doing, and what He will do. Joy abides. Joy looks at the ebb and flow of life and says, “But God.”
I'm grateful to have gotten to know this bunch of folks a lot better - the kind of bonding that occurs when you all look and smell disgusting. It was a treat to see how much you can get done when people work well together, and work hard. My farmer's tan is now several shades darker, even if I never did get a photo-op with a small dark child to post on my Facebook so that everyone would know I did a missions trip.
You are in no position of authority or protection whatsoever. There was no reason for you to profile me. This added layer of self-ordained patriotic protection is simply ridiculous. I am glad that my children were not old enough to realize that their father was being profiled for having long hair and a long beard.
In my frailty, I cannot endure keeping my eyes perpetually open and focused. Sometimes I need to take a break. Thankfully the Scriptures call me to keep my eyes on the cross.
I still advocate for educating your taste, in all things - food, drink, music, film. It is important to know what is worthy and what is cheap. I'm not saying that only religious music is worthy.
I won’t regret anything at all
if the only world we see is
outside the windows of our minivan
In the meantime, if you need me, I'll be in a corner near an exit. Probably scowling, drinking bourbon, and imagining that I'm the only one in the room.
I am far from a perfect covenant parents. Instead, I call to mind the promises of God and try to communicate them to my children faithfully. The whole time recognizing that our efforts are analogous to 1) "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief" (Mark 9:24) or 2) "We have only five loaves and two fish" (Matt 14:17).
I might die having not seen the fulfillment of the promise (Heb 11:13). But I can know it will not disappoint. Our hope is in a resurrection where every tear is wiped from every eye.
Imagine the insanity, the death, and martyrdom. Imagine the complete lack of theological development and tradition, and the total absence of a canon of Scripture. There was baptism. There was the Eucharist. There were hymns, prayers, and teaching.
This time doesn't even have a real name. Most denominations agree on Christmas, Easter, and even Pentecost - the Big Three. But there's Ordinary Time, Normal Time, maybe even Trinity Season (which is what my church calls it).
A few years prior to that, some people had trespassed up there, built a dirtbike track, and planted some, um, alternative crops. This town is pretty rural and there's a lot of open space, so you have to assume a great deal of that goes on.
For a solid couple of hours the world stood still and people existed solely to entertain each other.