You guys are too much

Seriously, you did a great job of proving me wrong and invoking a bit of jealously at the number of comments I got.

YOU ROCK.

I laughed so hard at most of your responses and was a bit suprised at the closeness of many of your answers.

I want to comment back to all of you but today is CRAZY. Really, loopy, psychotic, all out wild.

So I want to say THANK YOU to all who took on the test and passed with flying colors. And I'll try to get back later to comment on all your comments.

Update: Having a stressful and bad day, prayer appreciated, no new post forthcoming, sorry.

The following is a test of the Kpinion blogging system, it is only a test

I have nothing to say. Really I know it shocks all of you, especially those I know in person but I'm dried up and empty, nothing is coming out of this noggin. So I figured if you arrived at my little corner of the blog world you might humor me by taking a gander at this little test.

The test is: How many of you will actually complete the following task. Hmmmm, let me take a guess and say at the MOST it will be five people.

Here's how it works: You copy and paste this into a comment and fill it out about me. Answer the questions even if you have no idea; make stuff up if you so choose (sometimes that is more entertaining than the real stuff). Open season.

My name:
Where did we meet:
Take a stab at my middle name:
How long have you known me:
When is the last time that we saw each other:
Do I smoke:
Do I drink:
When is my birthday:
What was your first impression of upon meeting me:
Do I have any siblings:
What’s one of my favorite things to do:
Am I funny:
What’s my favorite type of music:
What is the best feature about me:
Am I shy or outgoing:
Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules:
Do I have any special talents:
Would you consider me a friend/good friend:
Would you call me preppy, average, sporty, punk, hippie, glam, nerdy, snobby, or something else (what):
What is a memory we have once had:
Have you ever hugged me:
Do you miss me…do you think i miss you:
How well do u know me:
What is my favorite food:
If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be:
What’s your favorite memory of me:
What is my worst habit:
If you and I were stranded on a desert island, what one thing would I bring:
Who are my favorite sports teams:
What was the last thing I said to you:
Did you fill out this whole thing out of guilt:

Friday's post

You're impressed, I can tell.

:)

In Honor of Bianca (and because she said I lived in a backwoods shack with perm smelling soft water)

Vlad: To all the critics out there, I know they're gonna review this, and I know they're gonna try to knock me - is it OK if I say this to the camera, Amber? - Okay. I only am who I am 'cause I was born that way. I have a gift, and I'm trying not to be selfish about it, but to use it. Okay? If you're gonna knock me for that, that's your problem. Jealousy will get you nowhere. And I'm gonna keep rockin' on.


KEEP ROCKIN ON BIANCA.

I warned you that I rambled

There really isn't a way to "clean this up" and make it all pretty and compact with a kicky opener and hard hitting ending. This is more raw and real, how I think and respond on the moment. I think it is more honest to how I actually feel, instead of me rewriting it so that it is a pretty package tied up nicely with a bow. So here is a couple of conversations that all seem to come back to one main thought: contentment.

“Man behind the curtain”: I was thinking this morning... People use Isaiah 40:30-32 as a verse to help them out... "But those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." What does wait on the Lord mean? And how come I am so discontent when I am waiting?

Me: So in looking at Is 40, I'm seeing God coming to comfort a war torn Jerusalem, who has been judged severely for their sin, vs. 2 talks about J receiving double for all her sins, but the Lord has come to comfort and to strengthen them again, to pull them from the ashes, to dust them off, and to remind them of His great promise to them through the patriarchs. It is interesting to me that the majority of this chapter focuses on the power of the Lord, on His majesty, they have just been routed by pagan nations, cast down and beaten by the same people that God has told them they will have dominion over, I wonder if they have begun to doubt that God is big enough, that He can give them the victory, they have begun to look at the smallness of man, the weakness of man, and they have questioned if that same weakness and smallness is in God, but He is so tender to remind them of who He is, to speak to them of the glories He has done, ok went ahead and printed it out because it all seems to flow to one big finish.

Me: This is what I got:
Verses 1-9: the initial coming forth of God, He approaches Isaiah to speak on His behalf to the people, he recognizes where they are coming from and immediately tells them that His judgment is ending and a time of comfort is coming
Verse 9: "Here is your God" - a proclamation of His character of His person which He is about to describe to them
V 10: His power
V11: His gentleness
V12: His majesty
V13-14: His knowledge and omnipotence
V15-25: His authority over man and idols, His bigness in comparison to His own creation
V26; His command and control
V27: The people's doubt
V28-31: The point He is driving home, the reason He has called to them, the hope He offers
God is not a man, He is not weak and unable, and yet we have that fear that He will fail, that He is not big enough

Me: I find it interesting that this promise comes after Israel is at its lowest, they are not the victors but the defeated, they are broken and torn, battered and doubting, and God comes to them and reminds them that no matter what the circumstances look like, no matter what the immediate present seems to show, He is the Everlasting God, the LORD, the Creator of the ends of the earth who does not become weary or tired, whose understanding is inscrutable (v28) and if that is who He is then He will give of that wealth of that power to His people, He will lift them up again, He will place them on firm ground, give strength to their legs, expand their territories, and give them power that is divine. Verse 30 tells me where I am "youths grow weary and tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly" - this is us, we are broken, pitiful creatures who can't even walk in a straight line no matter our "youthfulness" or our "strength", by the nature of man we are incapable, YET . . . . those who wait on the LORD, will gain new strength (not of ourselves but of the God who has just explained Himself to us) and by Him we will be like eagles, run and not be tired, walk and not grow weary.
so you asked how we wait, good question, I guess we wait by doing exactly what we are doing, by living our lives of stumbles and falls, of brokenness and pain, of searching for the path He wants us to walk, and knowing that in ourselves we will fail, but also looking for the One to come and comfort us, to be there at the end of the battle when all is lost and we have failed in what we thought we would succeed, when the promise looks impossible and knowing, trusting, believing beyond ourselves that He is who He says He is and He will do what He says He will, and all we can do is wait on Him to come through because He will, because He has to, because only He can
so the waiting is the living, it is the living with hope that He is always there, He is always working, and in the end He is who He says He is,
waiting is nothing more than what we do every day
waiting is faith

“Man behind the curtain”: also think that waiting is being content that he will place you where he wants you... and right now... he has you right where he wants you for the moment... and we have to be "okay" with that.

Me: content but never complacent?
does that sound true?

“Man behind the curtain”: I think that sounds true... although if you are not content... It is hard to be complacent... at least for me.

Me: true, I'll be honest I struggle with contentment and it ties directly to the amount of faith I have, active living faith that transcends just believing but knowing, acting, living out my faith, and I struggle to understand what contentment really is, is it just being "ok" with where we are, being fine with the situation, is it a resignation to "this is how it is, this is how God wants it, so I can either complain or just roll with it" or is contentment more than that, is it a longing for what is to come with a peace for what is now, is it a combination of being (almost wrote comfortable but that isn't it either) at peace with the now but so invested, so desiring, so waiting for what it to come that you trust Him for all of it, that the now is part of the future, that here is where you must be now to get there, so we live now, we are at peace with now, but we never resign ourselves to the now, we hope in the future and we trust that He can make it happen
gosh you got me on a deep and searching day, welcome to my very crazy thought process


This was a different conversation but brought me back to thinking about contentment.

Me: I guess I'm just trying to rationalize something in my life that I don't understand, stupid really, I accept God at face value on everything else, why not on His will for my life

Me: back to struggling with contentment

“Man behind the curtain”: Do all our problems stem from that? I have never really thought about it.

Me: probably

“Man behind the curtain”: Waiting is the hardest thing.

“Man behind the curtain”: Biggest tempter of Faith.

Me: last night at bible study we talked about the struggle between the spiritual man and the fleshly man, there is a constant struggle within us between what we are in Christ (our new self) and who we are in our flesh (our old self), salvation covers sin and forgives it forever but it doesn't take it away from our lives, so we live on this earth ever battling who we are with who we are in Him, and that is where I think the contentment issue comes up, it falls smack dab in the middle of that battle, it is what the battle is waged over

“Man behind the curtain”: True... but as a result of salvation we are no longer a slave to our old self... and while there is a constant battle, we can be victorious.

Me: all very true, I just wonder if contentment is such an issue because we do have that battle going on inside of us, our flesh desires sin, our spirit peace and righteousness and somewhere in there contentment gets tossed around, we can be victorious and we can win but the battle still rages and contentment is often a victim, oh how I long for heaven

“Man behind the curtain”: I agree... on all points. Contentment is often a victim. I love your honesty Katie... very refreshing. "Oh how I long for heaven." Such a pure desire and it comes so easily off the tip of your tongue. Honestly... I am not there... I am so tied to this world... distracted that I am not longing for heaven... I am too temporal... I do struggle with this idea that I won't always be here... I am enjoying the here and now while also keeping heaven in view... but I am not longing. Is that bad?

Me: no, because in all honestly I say I long for heaven because I don't want to deal with the struggles of this world, but I long for earth because of the pleasures of it, back to that warring nature, so I guess I long for heaven and pray for more time, I want to be a wife and a mother and I hope to have that desire fulfilled on this earth, so I long in the future sense but selfishly I want my earthly time to be fruitful and blessed, I'm a complex person that spouts two very different things at once, it keeps God on His toes, I'm a problem child for him

Random Wednesday

something coming

more of freeform thought

actually direct conversation that all centers around one idea:

contentment

Icky Tuesday

It's cold and misty outside. Icky. The kind of day when you want to be curled up on the couch with some hot chocolate and a movie.

I don't think Hallmark makes a thank you card for this

Jes and Roger recently returned from their trip to the Philippines. Jes posted a few times and one happened to be a quiz of sorts. Well I guessed correctly and she promised me a prize. This, my friends, was the promised prize.



I'ts a coin purse made out of a dead frog. Yes a REAL . . . . . DEAD . . . . . . FROG. The eyes have been replaced with googlie eyes and the inside has been lined with satin, but other than that this thing is all frog, well except for the zipper on its bottom half.

Mulling over something

It's frustrating.
To have this idea, this concept in your head, that seems so clear and at the same time is so blurred.

I'm not a creative person by nature. I don't have the gift to weave words into poetry or song. That talent, that gifting is expressed in others and I envy it. The ability to take words, simple groupings of letters, and place them in such a way that a harmony springs forth. The creation of natural rhythm in sounds and letters, the ability to express emotions and deep truths with simple phrases, to sum up a concept that is larger than your heart, that is sweeping in scope and to express all of it in words. That is beauty, that is creation.

Instead I ramble, I think, I ponder. I'm not saying it is less, it is just different. My brain doesn't speak in melody or song, poetry doesn't flow from my mind. Instead concepts fit together like pieces of a puzzle. There is a method, a structure that arises when I think on paper. Whether it is seeking to explain something I know to be true, or seeking truth in something I know to be me, it is the process of delving into the mixture of emotions and truth, the clashing of wanting to know but being scared to find out.

So my mind is rambling right now. There is something there, something just out of reach that I'm trying to take hold of, to examine, to touch, to understand, to know.

I wonder if poets and musicians feel the same frustration. There is a melody within their soul, a rhythm of words, an idea, a feeling that must be expressed. And yet the words won’t come, they know the substance but not the form. They hear it in their hearts, in their souls, but to express it to the world is a struggle.

Maybe poets/musicians and ramblers aren’t so different. We take different paths and have different voices but we each end up at the same destination and use the same tools. For the words that they can craft to express beauty I too use. The same searching and pleading to give form to what we feel, what we know, is a struggle for each. And often we are looking at the same truth, the same emotion, the same thought but with different eyes. And yet when it comes to what we see, it is the same.

Just thinking out loud here. I’m a rambler, it’s what I do.

Overheard

The PE teacher lines up the 3rd graders right outside my office. I just overheard her say this to them as they exited the bathrooms after changing back into their uniforms.

"Make sure your buttons are buttoned and your zippers are zipped."

I can only imagine 20 3rd graders all taking a peek to make sure they are "decent".

I also assume that if there were any guilty parties in the group they were ones sporting the XY genes. This must be one of those guy things that we ladies will never understand. The undone pants is just something that I think girls notice a bit quicker, if at all.

I know, I know

I need to post.

I'm thinking.

Any suggestions?

Rejoice

Hopefully most of you have followed the button on the sidebar to read about a precious little girl named Rebekah who has struggled against struggle with cancer. As of yesterday she is now cancer-free. What an blessing and joyous answer to prayer. Please take a moment and read what her parents wrote on this special occasion.

Please join me in continuing to pray for this little girl, for this family, and for the road still left to be walked. They have experienced a wonderful blessing with this diagnosis but the road ahead is still long and will likely have complications. So please pray for continued strength, faith, and comfort, as well as miraculous life for this little girl.

He loves me

He loves me as I was

He loves me as I am

He loves me as I will be

He didn't love me for who I would be

He didn't love me for who I am

He loved me for who I was before,
for who I was before I met Him,
for who I was without Him

He loves me because He is love

And it was His love that changed me

Truth is often staring us in the face

My Lord is a jealous Lord.

We are a jealous people.

The difference between these two jealousies is striking.

My jealousy is based on me, my selfishness, my emptiness.

His jealousy is based on Him, His love, His desire for me, His fullness.

My jealousy is the anti-thesis of love.

His jealousy is the evidence of His love.

Not much to say today

Little Things

Sometimes I want big things in life, grandeous moments or acts that alter my reality.

The truth is, when I think of the things that have meant the most to me, the memories that have stayed with me, they aren't big and dramatic. In fact they are small acts that are everyday in nature but significant in their effect.

The little things are therefore not small at all. They appear small by our expectations and anticipation. But how large they become when we experience them, when we see the way they change us or stay with us.

I guess the small things really are the evidence of a large heart. They don't need bells and whistles, pretty wrapping, or huge build ups, because they are truthful, they are authentic, they are real.

This morning I was greeted by a "small" thing when I arrived at work. In front of my office stood two coffee cans filled with paper flowers made by four students. Simple tissue paper flowers on pipe cleaner stems in an array of random colors and a note with a short poem and their names. Nothing dramatic, nothing specifically special, but in that moment this morning those flowers were more special to me than anything else.

Little things, big hearts.

UPDATE: Here is a pic of the flowers and the note. You may notice the small bouquet with the little note attached. It has the word To: and then a drawing of what I take to be me and Rebekah (the first grader who made those flowers and the note). The other note (w/the poem) is from the older girls (fifth and sixth grade)

It could have been worse

I don't really like my alarm clock. Ok, I hate it with a burning passion that almost reaches epic proportions. Something like "I hate it so... much... it... it... the... it... the... fee... flames... flames... on the side of my face... heaving... breathless... heaving breaths..." Yep, like that.

But at the same time I have a secret love for my alarm clock and may shed a few tears if it ever passes on to alarm clock heaven. See my alarm clock is sometimes mistaken for a tornado siren, it is that LOUD. It is also very small lacking any bells and whistles, because really who is going to wake up to bells and whistles.

The loudness has a purpose, a very important purpose, because much like a cute little cub (notice I didn’t say big momma bear) whenever my eyes close and sleep comes upon me I am in a state of hibernation. It may take me a while to get to that state, but when it happens I am out. Case in point, I use to live within 200 yards of a very busy train track and never once did the obnoxious horn wake me from my slumber. People have also tried to wake me with loud shouting and shaking but alas I remain in my state of REM slumber.

However, there are two things that can drag me from my sleep. 1. The ring of my cell phone and 2. My trusty alarm clock.

So this morning when the sirens that mark an impending funnel cloud shrieked through my small house and shook the very foundation I jolted out of my dream-state and slid the switch to off (we’ve discussed my disdain for the snooze button before). My eyes blinked and I saw the numbers 6:30 clearly (shhh don’t tell my optometrist that I slept in my contacts) and realized that this night of slumber just hadn’t done it for me because I was still tired. Stumbling out of bed I flipped on the overhead light to try and trick my brain into thinking it was daytime and therefore my body should be waking up much quicker. Light = Awake in my head.

Now my morning routine is very succinct because I really do enjoy sleeping (or better sleeping in) so there is no dawdling and every minute counts. So I shuffled to the bathroom to start the process and noticed something odd. My travel clock that rests on my sink was displaying a troubling sight. Those numbers read 5:30. Curious I turned to look back at my alarm clock and confirmed that it said 6:30. Now this presented a problem to my mind, the numbers didn’t match. That sounds pretty obvious now at 10:00 am but at 5/6:30 in the morning thinking takes just a bit longer to occur. My first reaction was deep and abiding joy because I might actually get another hour of sleep, but there was also a slight hint of fear that my travel clock was wrong and this was all a sick joke.

So I traipsed into the living room to confirm on that clock the actual time. And the sleep fairies rejoiced with me as I saw that it was indeed 5:30. After the celebration ended and I realized that I could return to the confines of the covers I questioned the blasted alarm clock for waking me a whole hour early. Had I set the alarm incorrectly? Was this some cruel joke planned by my alarm clock? Then I realized that I had in fact reset the time on my alarm clock and played the cruel joke on myself. A few pushes of the button later and I was back to my blissful sleep for a surprise hour of additional sleeping.

I was a little frustrated that I had those few moments of awakeness to interrupt my slumber but I guess it could have been worse. I could have set the time ahead an hour and woken up at 7:30 by accident. That would have resulted in a very different story.

"Here I am"

Sacrifice is forfeiting something that is rightfully yours, it is offering something to someone else that you have claim over, it is relinquishing something you possess. To understand sacrifice you have to understand ownership, possession, even love. For sacrifice is not an empty act of appeasement or fulfillment of a command. It is a response of obedience in love. Sacrifice is never without cost, and sometimes the cost seems greater than we can think to bear. We don’t sacrifice our worst, we don’t sacrifice our unwanted. No, we sacrifice what is greatest to us, what is dearest to our hearts, what is real and tangible and desperately wanted. This is what makes sacrifice so real.

To sacrifice a dream, a friendship, a love, a hope. They are things we want, we have, we love; things we pour ourselves into; things we spend time cultivating and growing. These are the things that sacrifices are made of.

I’m studying Genesis in my Bible study and it has been a process of self-examination as well as absolute awe for the Lord I love. This last week we covered the story of Abraham and the offering of Isaac. I was going to give you the cliff notes version but why paraphrase a story when I can show it to you.

1 Now it came about after these things, that God tested Abraham, and said to him, "Abraham!" And he said, "Here I am."
2 He said, "Take now your son, your only son, whom you love, Isaac, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I will tell you."
3 So Abraham rose early in the morning and saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him and Isaac his son; and he split wood for the burnt offering, and arose and went to the place of which God had told him.
4 On the third day Abraham raised his eyes and saw the place from a distance.
5 Abraham said to his young men, "Stay here with the donkey, and I and the lad will go over there; and we will worship and return to you."
6 Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and laid it on Isaac his son, and he took in his hand the fire and the knife. So the two of them walked on together.
7 Isaac spoke to Abraham his father and said, "My father!" And he said, "Here I am, my son." And he said, "Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?"
8 Abraham said, "God will provide for Himself the lamb for the burnt offering, my son." So the two of them walked on together.
9 Then they came to the place of which God had told him; and Abraham built the altar there and arranged the wood, and bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood.
10 Abraham stretched out his hand and took the knife to slay his son.
11 But the angel of the LORD called to him from heaven and said, "Abraham, Abraham!" And he said, "Here I am."
12 He said, "Do not stretch out your hand against the lad, and do nothing to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me."
13 Then Abraham raised his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him a ram caught in the thicket by his horns; and Abraham went and took the ram and offered him up for a burnt offering in the place of his son.
14 Abraham called the name of that place The LORD Will Provide, as it is said to this day, "In the mount of the LORD it will be provided."


There is so much in this text that leaps out at me so I’m just going to narrate my thoughts:

Abraham’s readiness to answer the Lord with a response of “Here I am”; what a heart primed to respond when God calls his name. God knows exactly what He is asking and how much it will cost, “your son, your only son, whom you love”, this wasn’t the prized lamb of the flock, it wasn’t his best of harvest, this was his son, the son born of a promise, the only heir of Abraham. And yet, Abraham doesn’t question God’s command, he only rises early the next day, gathers everything he needs and sets out to do what must be done. Then he sees his future, he sees the mountain top that he must climb, the task that awaits him and he goes alone in faithful obedience, trusting that he will return with his son. Isaac has amazing faith in his father, he questions where the lamb for the offering is and upon hearing Abraham’s response that the Lord will provide, he trusts and continues on. Then there is no mention of Isaac fighting his father as he is bound to the alter, as he is prepared as the offering. And then the most haunting verse to me in this narrative, “Abraham stretched out his hand and took the knife to slay his son.” No hesitation, no second thoughts, his obedience was steeped in faith, his faith steeped in obedience. I would hesitate, I would question, I would try and reason away what God had asked of me, but Abraham stretched out his hand, lifted it above his head and was ready to act. Then God cried out to stop Abraham, notice his name is said twice. I think of a voice in urgency stopping him from acting. And again Abraham is ready to hear the voice of his Lord, “Here I am.” And God praises Abraham for his faith, for his love for his God, and He offers what He alone can, a substitute offering. Notice his eyes were fixed on Isaac, on what God had called him to, his eyes had not strayed from this call of obedience. And so he looks up and sees behind him God’s provision. I wonder that it wasn’t in Abraham’s line of sight, in the way to tempt him from the act of obedience, but behind him, in a place that he never would look but for God’s voice to direct him there. And so in the place of the son he loved, the son of promise, there is another, a substitute who fulfills the call for an offering. And so, just as Abraham believed that God would provide the offering, he names this place after a Lord that not only can but will provide.

These verses, the truth of this story, they haunt me. The foreshadowing of another Father, one who has only one Son, a beloved son, who will offer Him as a sacrifice, but there will be no substitute, for He is the substitute for all.

One of the questions in my study asked about the joy that came with Abraham’s offering of Isaac, with his sacrifice. It struck me as so odd to speak of joy in the same breath as sacrifice. And yet there is joy in sacrifice, because there is the presence of God in sacrifice. And there was joy at the ultimate sacrifice, joy not in those who would benefit from it, not in those who were spared, but in the one who was sacrificed for all. His joy.
. . . . Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross . . . . Hebrews 12:2. And I shake at the knowledge that the “joy set before Him” was us, was all those who would be saved by His sacrifice. We were His joy.

One thing I love about the Word of God is that it is not a static book. It moves within our lives, it teaches us in the moments we live, and it strengthens and straightens us every time we come to it.

This text, this lesson in my Bible study, has been so pivotal in these last few days. The truths of this scripture, of sacrifice, of joy in sacrifice, they are water to my soul at the moment. I forget sometimes that the Bible is here for that. It isn’t just a book for us to know of the history of God, or the stories of His people, it is for us to KNOW God, to be His people, and to live the life He calls us to by the very words He speaks to us.

Last night our teaching leader ended his prayer with these words and they challenged me in that moment. Can I say them with an honest heart; can I really believe these words to be true in my life? Honestly, I don’t know, but I hope that one day I will say them as truth, that I will say them with a hear that fully believes them.

Lord, I am willing to receive what you give,
Lord, I am willing to lack what you withhold,
Lord, I am willing to relinquish what you take
Lord, I am willing to suffer what you require

Simple surprises

There are those days when you just need to laugh. No force within yourself can cause this to occur but simple surprises of an unexpected source cause laughter to bubble up within you.

Behold that phenomenon:

DEALS of BlinkyBlink has one again brought a smile to my face.

And to answer her question, may I present

Me, Kimberly(mysterious additional person in my profile pic), and Amy

And to give even more information for Miss Deals, here is another photo so that she may have context for the photo less she decide to create her own context:

So the above pics came from a Semi-formal dinner/dance for my BSF group (Bible Study Fellowship), oh yes we eat, we dance, and we have fun. Good guess Ben on the Southern Belle's meeting but that includes hoop skirts, curtsies, and white gloves. The first pic is of my friends Kimberly and Amy who are fellow leaders and were in my first group two years ago, the second pick is of the girls in my discussion group.

Does Hallmark make a thank you card for this exact situation

To fully understand (ok to partially begin to even try to understand) why I would receive a gift such as this in my inbox you must visit Jes's latest post here and read the last comment from me. Suffice it to say, Jes is one of my most favorite friends in the world, if only because she would think to send me such a thing.



Chocolates. Flowers to come later

I apologize for the offense.
Please accept these chocolates.
Hair excluded.

From: jes

Wallpaper of this image is available.

Does anyone else find it a bit distrubing that wallpaper is available for this image? Is there really that much of a need for this kind of wallpaper?

Also, I will have a post of a very different nature up later today, so please do not be scared away from Kpinion by the above sight.

SORRY guys something came up and I'm not going to be able to post again today. I'll have something new up tomorrow morning.

Because I can't say it any better . . . .

Steve of Following God's Will preached at his church on the topic of God's perspective of singleness. It's good, really good, and well worth your time.

Check it out and glean from it a heart of contentment.

Click HERE :)

Hands

So many different images come to my mind when I think of God and His hands.

First a song of childhood: “He’s got the whole world in His Hands . . . . .”

Then there is the old sermon by Jonathan Edwards “Sinners in the hands of an angry God.”

Scripture is ripe with verses that speak of God’s hands. In some instances they are hands of judgment and destruction, at other times hands of grace and comfort. They do works beyond wonder, creating the heavens and the earth, and yet they also form and shape man from dirt. At time they can bring wrath and devastation to those who rise against Him but are held back by the power of His grace and patience. The hands of the Lord are as mysterious and holy as is He.

But one thing stays the same; they are the hands of the Lord. They only do work that exhibits His character. And in them all people are found. The grasp of the Lord is tight, his grip firm, and yet his touch is gentle, his caress filled with love. There is peace as well as turmoil when one finds themselves in His hands.


In you, O LORD, I have taken refuge;
let me never be put to shame;
deliver me in your righteousness.
Turn your ear to me,
come quickly to my rescue;
be my rock of refuge,
a strong fortress to save me.
Since you are my rock and my fortress,
for the sake of your name lead and guide me.
Free me from the trap that is set for me,
for you are my refuge.
Into your hands I commit my spirit;
redeem me, O LORD, the God of truth.
Psalm 31: 1-5

It was now about the sixth hour, and darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour, for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." When he had said this, he breathed his last.
Luke 23: 44-46

I find it so comforting that Christ quoted this passage from Psalm 31 upon the cross. In the moment of His death, in the throes of pain and the reality of sin, Christ calls upon the One who judges and who offers grace. It is both that He finds in God’s hands, judgment upon the sin that He took for our lives and grace that flowed from the cross. Christ knew firsthand the duality of God’s hands, the extremes of their works, and yet He quoted that verse. A verse of surrender, of hope, of faith, of peace.

What follows the statement of surrender in Psalms is the thing in which we place our hope, our faith, when we commit ourselves to His hands: “redeem me, O Lord, the God of truth.” Redemption is the purchase back of something that had been lost, by the payment of a ransom.

And redemption is only found in God’s hands and by His hands. It is in His hands that we find grace and it was by His hands that judgment was settled and the ransom was paid.

In His hands.

Survivor

The BEST line from last night's Survivor episode was from Bobby:

"You have the young beefcake crowd, the love boat crowd, and then the golden girls and the spice girls."

I laughed so hard when he said this.

It just made me happy

If you visit me with any regularity then you know that I like 1. stories (good ones) and 2. movies (good ones although I also have a special place in my heart for some really bad movies because they are so good at being bad that they therefore become good).

I was just introduced to a brillant movie. It met all the qualities that define good in my book. It had a good story that was developed and drew me along. It had great characters who I became invested in and "knew" by the end of the flick. It moved me to tears and to laughter (sometimes at the same instant). It stayed with me well after the credits had rolled (movies that linger in your mind and heart are the defintion of greatness).

And I love when I get recommended a movie that lives up to the hype placed in it. Now I had no reason to question this recommendation or the recommendator (made that word up), but there is always a fear that you just won't get what the other person did, and you end up questioning if you have bad taste or they do.

Another thing about a good movie is that you want to talk about it, you want other people to see it so they can share in your experience and lingering delight.

So, my friends (both silent and not), I submit for your viewing pleasure Billy Elliot.

A quick note to my silent readers (everyone be sure to read the post directly below this one)

I see you hiding in the shadows and I don't mind at all. You are always welcome to pull up a chair and just listen (or read as this is a written blog). I am curious though. Some of you are my most loyal readers. You are here every day and by that I am honored. There must be something that brings you back.

So if you are one of those silent-types, don't feel pressured to comment but I would like to just maybe know who you are and where you are from. So I'm asking a favor, from you to me. Drop me an email and tell me who you are, how you got here, and maybe why you keep coming back. No pressure, I won't respond if you don't want me to.

So here's my email address kpinion7@yahoo.com. Drop me a line and let me know who you are.

I just realized something the other day . . . . . . I’ve changed.

I look the same as I did when I was 18, gosh I can pass for 18 (that’s 10 years baby). I don’t sound any different, I don’t look any different, I really don’t act any different, but I am different. And I’m not talking about some huge noticeable alteration of who I am. People still recognize me, people still describe me using about the same words, but I know that I am different.

Changes . . . .

They are so varying in scope and in depth.

Some changes are very noticeable; these usually deal with appearance and actions, the external. These changes are often very abrupt also, or take place over a short time period. They can be marked by miles and meters. The before and after are so distinct that you wonder how you ever were other than what you are now.

But then there are those changes that are small, that are barely discernible, the internal. They are measured in millimeters and yet years. These changes are not the product of an action or a decision; they are brought about by the eventual wearing down or slow alteration of time. These changes, while small and often undistinguishable to the naked eye are larger in scope and impact than most physical and external changes. These changes can precede an external change but they also continue long after the external is different.

Yes I have experienced the external changes. Time and life have caused alterations in my appearance, in my behavior, in my actions. But those aren’t the changes I recognized. Those are the changes I expect, the ones I take for granted, the ones that I am accustomed to experiencing.

It is the internal changes, the small baby steps of transformation that I realize have occurred. These changes almost resist definition or distinction. They are so minute and yet so basic that they occurred slowly so as not to peak my notice. It is almost as if my heart and my character have eroded to reveal these new qualities that once did not exist.

Those characteristics that I once possessed are not gone they are just softened; they are diminished if only by a degree. And replacing those parts of me that were so dominant are other new qualities that were not native to my soul.

The changes are minute; they are inconsequential in the grand scheme of life. You could overlook them, but for one thing: They are dramatic changes. While they may be small they are not insignificant.

Because these changes are core to who I am, they are the result of a process that is painful and yet freeing. A process that is marked by struggles and refining. They are the product of sanctification. Big word, simple meaning: I must decrease so Christ may increase.

Because really what is happening is a transplant of sorts, a transfusion of character, of self. The changes of the external are made often by will, by strength, by choice. But the changes of the soul, the transformation of character, those occur more slowly and not through our own hands.

Now I have attempted to make these internal changes on my own. I’ve done a pretty good job of fooling myself into believing that I could change the core of who I am, for a moment at least. But human nature will rear its ugly head and we fall back into who we naturally are. It isn’t the qualities that must be changed but the nature. For when the nature is changed, when it is released to be molded, to be formed, to be transformed, then the character will soon follow. We cannot be of one nature and exhibit the qualities of the other. I am either my old nature or I am my new. Something inside of me has to change, something has to transform when my nature itself is altered.

So this transformation, these changes are not by my hands, my works, or even my will. For me to change it must be by an outside force. I must resign myself to these changes; I must lay bare my heart for them to occur. For the most dramatic changes, the greatest alteration of our character, of our hearts, of our selves is done by the hands of another. I am only to look up with a sigh and a wince and let go.

The changes may be small; in fact they are hardly noticeable to the naked eye, if at all. But changes such as this, the transformation of character, of a heart, creates a ripple effect in our lives. So those small internal changes are seen though external ripples. My actions, my behavior are altered, not by willful choices but by the decrease in my nature and the increase of His.

KrisT asked in a recent post what my greatest accomplishment has been. I racked my brain to come up with something of great worth that I could proclaim that I had in fact achieved. And as I thought more, I realized that my greatest accomplishment is this, the changing of my heart. But the best thing about this accomplishment is that I take no credit for it, I claim no work in it, and my role was only of submission and supplication, but I reap all the fruits of His labor.

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It takes little effort and is fun . . .


Sorry, guys for the vagueness. I got this from JCol, and here is the site to create your own. Ok, so I'm confusing everyone it seems. This is the product of a computer program that takes the words from your blog and gathers them into a "snapshot" of sorts. So if you go to the linked site and put in your blog address they will create this for you. It just shows the words that currently show up on my blog.