Another Divine Paradox

Another Divine Paradox

And then I considered Job…….

 

“Oh, Divine paradox that trials may be desirable,
That attack indicates being on the right track,
That oppression can be a positive expression,
That the enemy’s wrath means I’m on the right path,
That God weaves the brambles of satan’s discouragement into a soft, glorious, robe of encouragement.

 

When I was newly born-again I was warned that I would be attacked because the devil considered me vulnerable (or possibly dangerous). 
That happened several times, but I withstood because forewarned was forearmed!  But, as I grew in faith, and with the passage of time, that warning wore off.  Now, every time I drop my guard, the debbil is ready and very willing to punch me where it hurts, especially just when I feel I’m getting closer to God.  It seems that he attacks when threatened.  Doesn’t want to be forgotten by his old pal who has betrayed and forsaken him.  He wants his revenge, no doubt.  The ultimate stalker.  The quintessential murderer.  Should we take it as a sign that we are on the “right track” with the Lord when we are sore-oppressed by the enemy?  I think so, yes.   “Because God redeems even this….”
By this be encouraged, oh People.  Be forewarned, and stand your ground.
Remember, the more worthy the adversary, the more cunning and vicious satan’s attack.  Be a worthy adversary anyway!

(“Each time God sits a writer down to write, satan knows he’s lost another fight”)
Wink    😉
LS<

 

 

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My Biology Pants For Theology

My Biology Pants For Theology!
Yes!  I’ve Got To Catch Him!

 

Oh, my heart,
Oh, my heart,
Oh, my heart!
Why do you race and beat so?
Oh, legs how you run,
You’re chasing the Son,
You’re climbing where you’d never go!

Oh, my chest,
Oh, my chest,
Oh, my chest!
Why do you heave and pant so?
Breaths coming fast,
How long can you last?
In pursuing the One you would know!

Oh, my soul,
Oh, my soul,
Oh, my soul!
Why do you leap and dance so?
Oh, arms how you raise,
Oh, voice singing praise,
Oh, mouth loud and bold are you now!

Oh, my Heart,
Oh, my Mind,
Oh, my Soul!
Why do you long for Him so?
You failed again and again,
Finally let Him come in,
Now there’s nowhere else you can go!

Oh, my Life,
Oh, my Joy,
Oh, my Faith!
Why do you so make frenzied haste?
There is rest here below,
Just be still and you’ll know,
He will wait, then again you can race!

 

(Can’t you just see Him turn and wink at you as you reach toward Him and He turns, laughs, and speeds playfully away, grinning in approval as you follow precisely in His steps?  “Come on!” he shouts. “It’s impossible not to catch me!” )

 

 

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Last Days

Last Days


Today is the season,

Today I must ask,
Are these the last days,
Or will these days last?
Have you been waiting?
Are you prepared?
Do you see life just ending,
Or continuing elsewhere?
Today is the season,
Today I must ask,
Forever a dead thing?
Or will your life last?

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Her First Christmas Card

To my own
Morning Star.

Her First Christmas Card

Between. That’s where he was. Dave was between sleep and consciousness. Between clarity and the fog brought about by unbidden change. Between the deep mystery of Christmas Eve and the lambent hope he always found on Christmas Day.

He was warm and relaxed under Mary’s favorite comforter. Although teetering on the rim of the slope leading back down into the pool of sleep, he began to remember. Years of Christmas memories. Welcome, warm ones. She was in them all from the beginning. He remembered the card he had bought her before their first Christmas together. Undelivered that first Christmas, he had left it in his sock drawer under his mother’s Bible. It had remained undelivered, regretfully, because of circumstances better left buried. Complicated days, those had been. Yet, they had worked their way through them with love, and with indispensable Divine help.  He gave her the card the next year, when it could be wholeheartedly given.

Even now the demands of the season had come between them. Kept them apart yet again. Highlighted their differences. Hampered communication. Brought frustrations, then prevented resolution of those frustrations. When he tried to picture them together in unity, in oneness, the image of “One Being” kept sliding apart into two, like that of binoculars which refused to stay in focus. How he longed to have everything right and perfect between them.

So it was right, tonight, that he remember that card, for reading it together had become one of the centerpieces of their unity during many Christmases ……

Because You Mean So Much”,

it said, above pine branches and a sprig of holly complete with red berries. He smiled in the recalling.

Gilded around the edges. Swirling red flower stems and buds as a background for the message. He had memorized the front:

I believe that God brings certain people into our lives for a reason.

Some days it’s to help us see something new and wonderful.
Sometimes it’s to encourage us and strengthen our faith.

And sometimes it’s to remind us that we are never truly alone….”

He nodded in affirmation. Mentally, he opened the card. The same evergreen pine and holly
above a verse:

How natural it is that I should feel as I do about
you, for you have a very special place in my heart”, Philippians 1:7.”

The two tears which began forming in his ever-green eyes testified to the truth of that scriptural passage. How appropriate that the verse was centered on the left-hand page, for it had been the heart of his message to her. He had to pry his attention from it to the continuance of the main message found on the last page:

Whatever purpose God had in bringing us together,

I’m just grateful that He did.

You’ve been a real source of understanding in my life,

and it means more to me than I can ever say

to have the gift of your friendship and caring.”

“Merry
Christmas”

He grinned unreservedly.

He had held his heart too close – or maybe not close enough. Missed some chances back then. It took months to recover his balance, but thanks to prayer, God had sent blessings, grace, and miracles.
He was wide awake now. All was calm and all was bright. Too calm and too bright? Moonlight traced a bright rectangle on the carpet as he became aware that her warmth and her steady breathing were absent. She wasn’t next to him in their big bed. Throwing back the comforter, he moved his legs over the edge, put his bare feet on the floor, and stood up intent on finding and joining her. Almost through the bedroom door, he turned back. There it was, right where he kept it under the Bible, behind the socks. He grasped the red envelope which contained his first Christmas greeting to his Beloved.

As he passed the arched doorway to the kitchen, the new stove caught his eye with its bright, clean, modern lines. The old one had been serviceable, but was badly worn. It had had none of the new digital gadgets. It was ordinary. “Kind of like me?” He mused. He missed the old thing.. He was sentimental that way. He remembered all the times they had danced near that stove, especially while meals were being prepared upon it. It had been a place of comfort in the chill of winter. Amused, he remembered the big pots of chili being prepared for company – with large pans of cornbread in the oven. Ahhh, the smells! Ahhh, the dancing in the close embrace of his Beloved…..
Down the hall he turned the corner and there she was, silhouetted in front of the glass doors which opened onto the deck. Looking out upon the snow-covered cornfields, she was radiant even in her white flannel pajamas – the ones with the little candy canes among the faces of angelic-looking sleeping children. Moonlit brightly! The filmy, sheer blue gown she wore over her ‘jams’ added to her mystery. Heartwrenchingly lovely! His Morning Star! Gosh, she was something truly special!

“I knew you would come, I felt it,” she said quietly. Had she been crying? “Our moon is perfectly full tonight of all nights!”
“Mary.” He kept his voice soft and low. “Just for us, do you think? Wow, it
is big! I think that’s the brightest, most beautiful one I’ve ever seen, and so unusually far to the northeast!” Perhaps he was annoyingly analytical at times. He put his arms around her from behind.
“Yes, I’m sure this one is just for us”, she whispered………… “Dave? I was just thinking of my lovely, perfect, Christmas card that you like to read to me every year on Christmas Eve. Would you read it to me later, in bed? I really need that tonight.”
“My love, I have it right here.”
“Wow,” she exclaimed in wonder and delight as he gently turned her to face him. Then he kissed her. It lasted. They paused, and, inspired, he began whispering the words to ‘Silent Night’. She joined him then, and they were softly singing together, for only with him could she truly sing her heart’s song…..And he, his. Only with her.
They sang, began swaying, then began dancing. In close embrace. Rejoicing together by the light of the Christmas full moon.
Angels danced unseen, and sang as well. They could feel them. “Silent
night, holy, holy, holy, night. All is calm, all is bright.”

Right on cue, the grandfather clock began “chiming twelve” as if to say, “Re-joice, re-joice, for-Christ-the-Lord-is-born-this-day!”

He counted the syllables aloud just to make sure, for he was compulsive that way. She giggled happily. Ring-ringing! Exactly twelve chimes – twelve wondrous sounds with meaning reverberating through eternity.
They looked into each others’ eyes and said in unexpected unison, as was their habit and their gift, “Happy Birthday Jesus” ……………. Eyes wide – always amazed when this happened.

Then : “I Love You, always remember that!” In unexpected unison, they had done it again!
Green and brown sparkles swirled as their eyes twinkled……………..

Their images resolved into One.
Under the brilliant full moon,
All Heaven and Earth
celebrated, rejoicing with them.

The angels kept dancing,

And so did they.

***

Peace, Love, and Hope
Beyond your understanding,
Be yours tonight.
Merry Christmas, 12-24-2012

© Copyright by Lenn Snider 12-24-2012

Paul Harvey – The Man and the Birds

 

A Modern Day Parable

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Mary Did You Know? (A Mother Just Knows)


Mary, Did You Know?


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Shards

A   FORE-WORD

      I feel very strange.  The day before yesterday I was strongly led to write this unusual piece – “Shards”.  (unusual, for me, in its pain and darkness – I’m more into joy)
Around noon yesterday (Friday, 12-14-2012) I saw the horrible, heartbreaking tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut on the news.

I had not planned to give God much of a part in this poem.  I intended it for encouragement for one individual, that “they” might be encouraged by it and know that they are not alone in their plight of brokenness. However, yesterday morning, as I awoke, I was strongly led to change it, and include His compassionate nature in the final stanzas.
      I hesitated to post this in fear of being inappropriate, but I feel strongly that He wants someone to read this.  I emphasize that this was written before the tragedy.  It is my hope and prayer that it will draw someone to Him and  lead them into his arms.
Today I will post “Shards”.  I have no answers to the usual questions which tend to make people turn away from God in times like these.  “Where’s God?” “Why does God allow innocent blood to be spilled; innocent lives to be taken?”  “Why does He so often allow evil to prevail?”  “Is it because of the rebellious and disobedient nature of mankind?”  “Is it because when we, as a people, decided to ‘go it alone’ without Him, He decided to show us how that would work out for us?” I don’t know.
      This is all I know at this moment:   I refuse to let these questions shatter the faith that I, with His grace, have gone through so much to maintain.  I refuse to be captive to my own meager understanding.  Jesus didn’t come to earth to eliminate murder. He came to comfort the brokenhearted, for one thing.  We still live under the curse of evil and we all face death – old and young alike – but Jesus came here to address death and defeat it for each of us through His resurrection.
I refuse to let evil steal my joy and my hope, for this is what it boils down to, for me — that our only hope to be reunited with those innocent souls is through Jesus Christ.  I am absolutely certain that Jesus’ compassion for innocent souls, those taken too soon, is immense, for, in a sense, He was one of them It is through faith, trust, and belief in Him alone that we will  be allowed to rejoin those beautiful innocents again in full joy, to sing, and dance, and laugh, and love with them forever.

Shards

The countless shards of one shattered heart,
An exploding, expanding sphere of chaos,
Spreading wide and scattering apart,
Across the world, a swarm of loss.
Shards acutely sharp,
Across the heavens, destruction hurled,
Shards immutably hard,
Dark devastation unfurled.

Small flechettes ripping flesh and bone,
Piercing even the fragile membrane
Between the body and the soul,
Replacing joy’s song with despair’s refrains
Shredding the universe into coarse turmoil,

~~~

Unsharded

Where, in the lovingkindness of His heart of compassion,
God gathers them all in His arms, and His hands,
And skillfully, then, He begins to re-fashion
Refitting them back as only He can.

Remaking, shaping, forming, unshattering,
Deftly rounds off the pain and re-tunes –  it’s an art,
He fits them all back, in a shape that’s most flattering.
Then removing the thing that tore them apart,

He creates a new unshatterable heart.
He creates a brand-new unshardable heart.

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Now I Lay Me Down – For Davey Christopher

Now I Lay Me Down
A Bedtime Poem and Prayer

This is the bedtime prayer that my mom taught me. I was told to say it every night without fail:

“Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

The dying part scared me.  The implication of the possibility that I might die if I went to sleep was too much for my young mind to grasp, so I rushed through it which took the whole meaning, purpose, and heart out of praying it.
Recently, when I researched the history of this classic children’s prayer, I found that the earliest version of that prayer was perhaps written in 1711 by Joseph Addison in an essay appearing in The Spectator.  Mom’s version came later from The New England Primer.  Several different versions exist, some including child-watching angels.

I decided that Davey Christopher (and I, as well) needed a better bedtime prayer.   Davey’s prayer is a new version of the classic:

“Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
Stay with me, Lord, in dark of night,
And wake me with Your morning light.”

Davey made another verse:
(I helped him with the spelling)

“And as I go to sleep, dear Lord,
I’d like to ask for one thing more:
Be with me all my waking hours,
And keep me, Lord, for I am Yours.”

Here is Davey’s complete bedtime prayer (without all his personal “God blesses”):

“Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
Stay with me, Lord, in dark of night,
And wake me with Your morning light.”
And as I go to sleep, dear Lord,
I’d like to ask for one thing more:
Be with me all my waking hours,
And keep me, Lord, for I am Yours.”
“Amen”

Parents, think about your children’s prayers.  Pray with them.  Think, and pray, and teach them well.

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A Christmas Who’s Who

We must remember this,
Amidst the noise and fuss,
JESUS is the subject of Christmas,
And the object of Christmas is US.

*LS*

Jesus, Joy of the Highest Heaven

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A Children’s Christmas Carol for Everyone

I lift up Keith and Kristyn Getty and I thank them for this beautiful song.
Remember,  JESUS is the subject of Christmas, and the object of Christmas is US.

LS

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Announcing Publication of “The Godsend”

The Godsend
is now an  E-Book !

Words such as “inspiring”, “down to earth”, “honest”, and “will melt your heart” have been used to describe this author’s “initial public offering” of this E-book.

Set in the Upper Mid-West, in the decade following World War II, this mini-novel will take you back not only to a hopeful, encouraging, prosperous time for America, but to a magical time in a young boy’s life. This is the heartwarming story of a specially-gifted boy who is faced with a heart-wrenching situation.  Using his “sleuthing skills” he embarks on a journey “to find the truth” about himself, about Santa Claus, about the real meaning of Christmas, and about the existence of God Himself.

How will he find his answers? Will God reveal himself? Are there miracles in store for him? What is the real Godsend…….or who? Is it possible that we are all Godsent for each other?

The Godsend is rated Family Friendly.  Somewhere, there is a special child who has some very special parents, who needs to have this story read to him or her.  That is who this effort is for.  May God bless you in the reading of this story and in the reading of the REAL story of Christmas.

The Godsend is available on Kindle or Kindle for PC here:  http://www.amazon.com/The-Godsend-ebook/dp/B00A8TPVPM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1353944048&sr=8-1&keywords=lenn+snider

The Godsend is also available on Smashwords, for PC (in PFD format) Sony Reader, Nook, Apple I-Pad, Kobo, and most e-reading apps ( including Stanza, Aldiko, Adobe Digital Editions, others) here:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/256725

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Eccentricity — Short Post Series

 

Eccentricity

 

Eccentric toward the world,

Centric toward God.

LS<
11-4-12

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Illuminated

 

Illuminated

To paraphrase  C.S. Lewis in “The Weight of Glory” :

“I believe in Jesus Christ as I believe the sun has risen, not only because He illuminates me, but because by Him all else is illuminated.”

LS<

 

 

 

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What Was Closed Is Open

For evil to flourish, and for evil to prevail, good people need only do three things:
Close their eyes to it.
Close their mouths about it.
Close their twiddling hands behind them and turn away.

Therefore keep an eye open to discern evil.
Openly denounce it.
With open palm extended, oppose and reject its advances.

All the above from a strictly physical place.
While effective, this cannot begin to approximate the power and certainty
Of the spiritual answer to evil.  Openness to that is at the root of the ultimate defeat of the evil one.  Seek it.  Seek Him.  He has already closed the door on evil and opened the door to paradise.

10-22-12

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Of Light and Shadow

 

 

Of Light and Shadow

Our Heavenly Father is the “Father of Lights” who does not change nor cast a shifting shadow.   see James 1:17

For you are all children of the light and of the day; we don’t belong to darkness and night.   see  1 Thessalonians 5:5

We, His children, are called to be “salt and light” to the world.  We are to let our light shine before others so that we may glorify Him.   see Matthew 5:13-16

I was thinking about the depth of the “light” metaphor when something occurred to me.  Better yet, something was revealed to me about Him, and that is this, a short phrase that is full of meaning:

“A light can have no shadow cast upon it.”

My Lord gave me this phrase!  It is amazing!  I hope to expand on it and develop it.

Some corollaries I can think of at the moment are these:

*Nothing can cast a shadow on a light that shines in all directions at once.

*Nothing can cast a shadow on The Source of all light.  Likewise, nothing can cast a shadow on His Children of Light.

*In a sense, only something that has no light of its own can cast a shadow, and have a shadow cast upon it, for example, a human body.

*In another sense, one’s spirit and soul can have shadow cast upon them or they can be a source of light, depending on who your father, your master, or your god is……

*Light and darkness can’t exist at the same time in the same place.  Where light is, darkness flees!

What is the deeper meaning of “true light”, and of “the shadow of darkness”?  This could get very deep, if it hasn’t already, but I will leave it here. For now.

Light and shadow.  Daylight and darkness.  Good and evil.  The Father of Light, and the  father of lies.  Metaphors given to us in great supply to enhance our understanding.  It was given to me, but this is for you, dear reader:

“A light can have no shadow cast upon it.”

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Boiled Down

 

I have taken a hiatus, of sorts, from writing during this demanding season, but the heat has at least served to boil something down for me.  Today, while doing the most mundane work, wrapped in sweat and dirt, I was given renewed purpose and also a new way to express my purpose:

To come to know my Father-God’s GLORY in new, deeper, more exciting, more relevant terms, whether the individual revelations be particulate or magnificent;  and then, in my own way, with His guidance, to constantly make known that GLORY to all the people who have eyes to see, and for all nations who have the ears to hear.

I have faith in His faithfulness to bring this to be in me.

Solid stone heart made tender and pliable.

Unworthiness made righteous.

Dreary unforgiveness fading as the grey flees sunrise.

His Selfless Love replacing selfish “love”.

To come to know and, in the knowing, to make it known…..

Yes, this will be do-able.

He boiled it down.

 

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Love’s Deep

Love’s Deep

 He awoke suddenly, startled into full consciousness from a deep sleep. It was the reverberation of the dream that had roused him. He blinked and turned onto his back. From experience, he knew that when he awoke right after having a dream that he could remember that dream, but this was different. It was as though the memory had preceded the waking. It had been so intense, so vivid, so full of implications that weren’t apparent at the moment. So…….. intentional………

 He had just opened the door to one of the stalls in Grandpa’s old red barn so that he could get his riding mower and cut the grass around the house. He had paused for a moment, turning to enjoy the clear blueness of the Spring sky and the excited singing of the birds, when he saw her walking toward him from the direction of the house. His beautiful young wife was smiling as she approached. She was full of life and showed it in the confident way she carried her tall, slim frame, and in the way she was dressed. Today she was wearing a black, form-fitting dress with white trim circling the neckline, the sleeves, and the bottom hem. There was quite a contrast between her dress and his short-sleeved blue work shirt, jeans, and boots, as well as between her light hair and eyes that matched the sky, and his dark hair and deep brown eyes. As she came closer, he remembered that she had a Ladies’ Group meeting at church at ten o’clock this morning. She was coming out here to say goodbye. That was sweet of her. He felt his love for her welling up as it always did at the mere sight or thought of her. He ‘drank in’ her look, from her long, straight, light brown hair, to her blue eyes, to her amazing lips framing an even more amazing smile. He also ‘drank in’ the look in her eyes. The look of love she usually had for him was unusually intense this morning! It was remarkably deep, even mysteriously so. Enthusiastically ardent. Strongly, deeply emotional. Then the touch of her hands on his face was tender, implying a deep spiritual desire; her kiss, intimately personal, fervently powerful, her affection fiercely burning, evoking blazing bonfires and wild horses galloping, their muscles rippling. Enigmatically, mysteriously inexplicable, it was. He had heard of unconditional love, but this time it was palpable – graspable in a new way, and solidly unchangeable. And now the surfaces and interfaces between them were disappearing and they were somehow moving into each other, not necessarily becoming one, not this moment, but inhabiting one another completely. This was the way they both wanted to stay forever. This was love. Maybe seconds, maybe millennia later, she withdrew from the embrace, running her hands down his arms. Squeezing each others’ hands, they still inhabited each other – occupied each other, their eyes locked, arms still reaching toward the other. Transfixed in wonder, he had never known such a loving feeling directed toward himself. He watched her turn………. and then he was awake and alone in awe and frustration in his dark bedroom.

 The dream, itself had only lasted a few seconds. Short, as dreams go, it was over much too quickly. “And, how strange,” he thought, as he reflected on it. “We were so young………..”

 He was sixty-eight now. Grandpa had been dead for fifty years. After Grandpa had passed on, his dad and he had taken over the farm Grandpa built. Four-hundred acres of row crops, pastures, livestock facilities, and grain storage buildings had been a handful. After Mom died, Dad was never the same. His windmill no longer turned in the wind and he had died too. Then he, Dave, and his new wife, Mary, had run the place until it became too much for them and they leased out the croplands on shares. He still called it “Grandpa’s farm”, though, and the barn was still “Grandpa’s barn”. That part was true to life, but in the dream he was young, and the worst part of all was that the young ‘wife’ in the dream was not Mary………. . Mary had been beautiful, yes, but she’d had dark hair and hazel eyes. And she had died three years ago. But his dream had seemed so real. The girl was a stranger, yet had ‘really been’ his wife. It was like another reality – a different life. And her love – the love between them was real – overwhelmingly real. “Get a hold of yourself, Dave,” he muttered to himself.

 “Ohhhh God, You know I’ve been so lonely, why would You do this to me? It felt like I was cheating on the memory of my Mary. What was the good in that?

Why would You show me a love like that, so intense, so powerful, when even my true love, Mary, and I hardly ever had moments that deep?”

He thought about the overwhelming, intensely deep, real love he had experienced in the dream. He wanted that so badly. How could a man taste that and not pursue it forever? His silent inner-weeping welled up.

“Ohhhh, Lord ………..”

 Then a quiet voice spoke so intensely into his soul that his whole body jerked:

That’s The Way I Love You” …………….

The revelation swirled through him, his whole being tingling. The realization that it was true permeated his being with a warm joy, a welcome peace……..

 “Ohhhh, my Lord, I never knew it was like that.”

His whole being was being flooded with astoundingly wonderful word-pictures. The Lover and the Beloved. Visions filled with fragrance, with music, with flavor, and color:

Love’s deep, yearning pursuit…….

Love’s deep, longing, desire……….

Love’s deep summoning……………..

Love’s deep, fiery-wild embrace…..

Love’s deep, caring concern…………

Love’s deep, all-inhabiting indwelling.

Love’s deep Romance……………………..

Your Deep, YOURS, my Lord …………………….. Oh, how You romance us! And that is only part of it, isn’t it. That’s only the tip of the iceberg that my human heart can perceive, isn’t it? But….. but, Lord, I still don’t understand why You didn’t use my Mary to show me……………………..”

You had to know the difference.

…………………………………………….“ Yes, You are sufficient, Lord. I’ve been needing something, but I just didn’t know what. I feel a lot better, Lord, and I thank You. You love me that much?

Now and evermore have I loved you both.”

I only wish I could return that kind of love”………..

You can, in your way. It is within you.

He tried and tried to find the right words to describe the miraculous encounter, the precious revelation. How could he tell it to others? Love’s selfless deep? Love’s wondrous deep? Love’s unreserved deep? Love’s unconditional deep? It was so mind-boggling. Love’s fathomless deep! Yes that’s it!

Be vigilant, child. Your commission is set. Now find your new heart.”

He tried to go back to sleep and continue the dream. Once in a great while, that actually worked………..…………………

 The next morning was Sunday morning. He got ready for church with a new passion for praise and worship of his Almighty Loving Father and Savior. He had a feeling that this service would be special.

 He was drawn to sit toward the back of the auditorium, on the left side. He usually sat in the center, but the center seemed too crowded. As the soft pre-worship music permeated the large space, he became aware of the conversation of the two ladies who sat in front of him. He was not one to eavesdrop, yet he couldn’t help but gather bits and pieces of their conversation, mostly from the one on the right who spoke rather too loudly and too much. He determined that the lady on the left, who was more soft-spoken, was visiting from out-of-state. She seemed about his age. There was something about a young man, possibly her son. Something was all wrong. He was in love with the wrong girl, perhaps. He saw a tear roll down her cheek, and heard the words “lonely”, and “Joe”, and, “ intense personal relationship”, and “ he loves so deeply”.

 “Looks like I’m not the only one thinking about love today,” he thought.

 The worship songs were fervent and meaningful. The message by Pastor DeWayne wasn’t about love, as he had expected, but was about rescue and redemption, which, when he thought about it, had a lot to do with love. The end of the service was coming too quickly for him.“Now it’s time to stand and form groups of three or more to pray for each other,” said the pastor. Since Dave was part of the church’s prayer team, he knew what to do. There was no-one close except for the two ladies in front of him, so he leaned forward and said, “How can I pray for you sisters this morning? My name is Dave. Do you have any prayer needs? I, personally have some back pain I could use some intercession for, but mostly I have praises.”

 “Oh, I have some arther-itis in my fingers that’s been botherin’ me,” stated the one on the right, the louder and shorter of the two, “I’m Betty and this is Sarah. She’s from Texas, ya know,” she inserted, before the taller, more reserved woman could respond. “Pleased to meet you,” everyone said at once.

 “Let’s join hands, if that’s all right, and form a circle. You know Jesus said that wherever two or three or more gather in His name, He will be there in their midst.” They did, and Dave poured himself into praying for Betty’s fingers, and into praises for their Lord. Betty prayed about Dave’s back, rather too long. “Amen,” Dave smiled to himself when she finished.

 “Sarah, you haven’t said much. You don’t have to be shy around here. Isn’t there something we can pray for you?”

 “Well, it’s complicated, but I think I’m okay. Thank you so much for the thought. I have mostly praises myself, like you said.”

 “No she’s not okay,” blurted Betty. “She’s all in a tizzy because she dreamed of this young man last night and she felt like she was cheatin’ on the memory of her husband, Joe. On top of that, she’s been beside herself with loneliness – jist emptiness, poor thing, since Joe passed. Could we please talk to God about that?”

 “I can relate, Sarah,” Dave said softly with compassion, “I lost my wife, Mary, too.” He felt Sarah’s discomfort. The hand he was holding began to sweat and so did his. Her hand was so soft……. . What Betty had said began to sink in.

 “I told you all that in confidence, Betty,” she said calmly, “But you missed the point. God used that dream to show me His immense love for me, and I’m at peace now. She looked at her hand in Dave’s. His hand was so strong…… . She began to blush. Dave looked at her face. She was downright pretty! That smile looked very familiar. His face began to flush.

“Uhhhh, what’s goin’ on here,” Betty demanded.

Dave noticed that he had dropped Betty’s hand and that he was holding Sarah’s in both of his.

 What was going on? Dave’s eyes met Sarah’s clear blue eyes and hers met his deep browns. And in that moment they knew their new hearts.

 “Sarah, did you, by any chance, ever have a black dress with white trim?”

 Her eyes began to fill with tears. “Did you ever have an old barn?”

 “Yes, and I still have it!” they both exclaimed.

 (“Now and evermore, I have loved you both, He said.”)

 With that, an increasing knowing passed between them and they began the long fall into the Deep of one another. No, not the depths. That’s another thing. The Deep – not a place, but a state of being! It was the manifestation of His all-encompassing, all-pursuing, all-inhabiting Romance imparted from God to person and from person to person, the Deep calling to the Deep , the Deep occupying the Deep, the Deep exquisitely alive in the Deep!

 “Selfless Deep?” Dave asked, wide-eyed.

 “Yes. Wondrous Deep?”

 “That’s right. Unreserved? Unconditional?”

 “Love’s Fathomless Deep?” They both began to giggle like children.

 By now, Betty was beside herself, feeling very left out. “You two know each other, right? Or is this some kind of coincidence? You’re speakin’ your own language. Please, give me a clue.”

 “More like a Godincidence, Betty,” quipped Dave without ever taking his gaze from Sarah’s eyes.

 “My friend, we have a lot to explain. We will fix your befuddlement,” said Sarah warmly. “I met Dave last night in my – our – miraculous dream, then in person just now. We knew each other – know each other. It’s hard to explain but we have been given something, and have been shown something very special that is going to knock your socks off! First we will tell you all about it, then we will tell the whole world. Spreading the message of His universal love for His people is the mission He is calling us into as we speak. It’s as though He is outfitting us with everything we need for a long journey. He is strengthening our connection with each passing second.”

 (“Your commission is set, He said”)

 “That’s the truth, my dear. Let me take you both to lunch and we will fill you in, Betty,” Dave proposed, never letting go of Sarah’s hand. “Sister, God’s love for each of us is so much, well, more than we ever thought, or knew. You’re not going to believe the way God loves you, and He’s telling us that we could use your personal testimony as an eye witness to our miracle as we travel, if you are feeling the strong pull of the Holy Spirit in that direction.”

 “If only you knew,” now Betty’s emotions were rising. “I’ve been needin’ something myself. Been feelin’ restless, and I’ve been havin’ thoughts and dreams and ideas about goin’ out and tellin’ the good news of Jesus. I never much thought I would be a good evangelist, but the good Lord has been preparin’ me in little ways that I didn’t much notice until now. I had a feelin’ He would send somebody to me sooner or later. That’s the way He works. He sends jist the right person at jist the right time. His timing is always good. I was kinda hopin’ for Him to send a sister………..or a man……………but, anyway, I cain’t wait to hear what He revealed to you two. I love to hear personal testimonies and you must have a doozie! I love to tell mine too. It’s jist little and simple, but there is great power even in a little story about Him. Yep, I think the fields are white for the pickin’ and I’m ready to go, I’m ready to learn and grow and give my life to Kingdom work! Oh! Praise the Lord, I’m so blessed! Yes! I’m up for lunch and I cain’t hardly wait to learn from you two. This is my calling, I jist know it! You’re not gonna believe how much I like to talk. Prolly too much! Oh, my heavens, I’m doin’ it again aren’t I? Hahahaha!”

 Dave and Sarah smiled intently as they heard every word Betty said, hearts beating wildly, hand in hand, and all the while immersed in the rich, deep, love inside each-other’s eyes.

It’s something like this……

Copyright © by Lenn Snider 5-3-2012

All Rights Reserved

Good Friday? Good Sunday!

It is Good Friday.  This is the day of remembrance of how my Lord Jesus suffered the agony of torture and death.  A part of me died with Him that day – the part that needed to.

When I stood accused of selfish sins and crimes that I knew I was guilty of, He effectively said to me as He stood there weak, trembling, and covered with blood: “Don’t worry, you’re good.  Get behind Me.   I love you too much to let this happen to you. I’ve got this.” 

His torture and death were my fault.  (my brothers and sisters argue that it is theirs, but I am the guiltiest)  But He forgave me that fault and went ahead and saved me anyway.  “It’s forgotten,”  He said, graciously.

So, I don’t know about the “Good” part of Good Friday.  It is also called Black Friday and Holy Friday, either of which I can relate to, especially “Holy Friday”,  but hardly Good Friday, except that good resulted from it.  You can’t have a resurrection without a death, especially THE Resurrection following THE Death that rocked the foundations of the world.

If anything should be called “Good”, it is Resurrection Day – “Good Sunday”, the joyous day that I lived through Him, and had Life because of Him, and was shown the true meaning of Love.

I once again turn to Stuart Townend, Keith and Kristyn Getty to express with music and images what cannot be expressed with words alone.  I pray that every heart that hears and sees this will be broken, transformed, and renewed at the foot of that one horrible, and glorious, cross………..

Thank you victoryinjesus123 for uploading this beautiful video.

Oh, and one more thing – the power of the cross is only the beginning.  The power of His victory over death lies at the doorstep beneath the joyously-open doorway of His empty tomb!  THANK YOU, JESUS!

Rejoice! Rejoice With All Your Might! Rejoice!

Hardly a day goes by that I don’t think, in some way, about Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection. Today is no different. Wait, it is different, for today is the Church’s official celebration of that creation-changing, world-changing, life-changing Day.  Today, let there be loud singing and joyous dancing.  Let there be massive celebration over all the Earth,  for our Jesus is alive!  Let there be all of that, but, most importantly, let Him be the Lord of your life.

 Rejoice!

Rejoice, My Soul – All People, Rejoice!

I celebrate this holiest

Of all the days of holiness,

For as the sun appears to rise

In the East,

The Son of God did arise

On Easter – Resurrection Day,

The greatest Day the Lord Has Made.

I rejoice and I am exceedingly glad in it,

For my Savior lives!

Oh, Lord, He lives!

Now and forever, He lives!

And because He lives,

So can I!

For my heart, too, was sealed

With hardened stone

And in that darkened tomb

Dwelt death.

With tender touch He moved

The hardened part away

To let in light and life

So death was put to death.

The Holy Spirit Jesus sent

Was sent to live in me.

As Christ began to breathe again

I felt my spirit leap.

It leapeth still in Heaven’s realm

So graciously removed from hell

That I can only raise my hands and say

Rejoice, all people, rejoice!

Hallelujah, praise God, rejoice!

For our Savior lives and breathes in us.

He arose, he conquered bitter death, and saved.

He does that, still, today!

With love,

Your gloryteller

Re-posted For Resurrection Sunday,  4-8-2012

Dawning

This Dawn Will Endure

 

Dawn opens its sleepy eyes slowly                       

One at a time, softly blinking

To behold dimly the horizon in waking

Always amazed with the revealing

Beginnings, ever-refreshing

Impatient to see expanding light

So terribly long it could but dream of sight.

As it had been blind in the slumb’ring

~~~~~~~~~~~

The dawn is a seriously great metaphor!

The light increasing, the sun rising.

Well, here’s what “dawned” on me:

God !   That Jesus, my Savior lives!

The Son literally rising in my life!

~~~~~~~~~~~

We Jesus-followers all have our own special story about how Jesus “dawned” on us.

The sun also “sets”, and the love of The Son “sets” us to testifying of His Kingdom, of His saving grace, and of His great glory!

And we pray for those who haven’t truly seen the dawn.

Oh, Lord, let that Dawning spread wide, covering your people from horizon to horizon.  Amaze them at Your revealing, Lord.  Make them impatient to awaken.  Make them to see that when the Dawning of Christ arrives, it will endure forever in their lives.  Amen

Proverbs 4:18 – The way of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, which shines ever brighter until the full light of day.

Image

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I don't own, and have no claim on, these music videos. The following are simply links inside my website pointing back to the original locations of the videos. The names of the creators of these videos are cited wherever possible, and only "embedding-enabled" selections are used.

The Basic Christian Library

"Mere Christianity" by C.S. Lewis. This is fundamentally what Christianity is all about.

"The Case for Christ" by Lee Strobel. Another converted atheist presents His compelling case for believing in Jesus.

"Left To Tell" by Imaculee Ilibagiza. This profound work is her own extraordinary story of endurance, discovery of the Holy Spirit, grace, healing, and an astonishingly compelling account of the necessity for forgiveness.

Compelling Christian Fiction Reads

"The Circle" 4-book series by Ted Dekker.
A man is the bridge between two very different worlds. Sound familiar? Can he save both? This T.D. work is brilliant in my book.

"This Present Darkness" and "Piercing the Darkness" by Frank E. Peretti. Tales of spiritual warfare from a unique perspective. Stirred a small controversy, but sold millions. What are we Christians afraid of? Hey, it's fiction!

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