Thinking this morning as I was looking forward to church & taking Christmas cards for some new friends (i still dearly love my old friends) how we think sometimes after a death—my own in this case but I’ll not try to explain right now)—that we never really will be happy again.
We’ll survive perhaps but forever mourn the loss of our old lives & never freely laugh the same way as before. This’ll sound weird but I don’t want to give up the pain because I don’t want to give up a past so precious to me but I just wanted to be happy in a church family again.
I know nothing rings any more trite to many than the word happiness as it’s often distinguished in our circles from joy. So, I’ll be boldly trite then. I wish happiness for each of you. A Jesus kind of happiness. A hard hard belly laugh. A sense that maybe you won’t just survive.
But you will thrive again. Be silly again. Childlike again. Dare I say, happy again. Or maybe happy for the very first time in your life. God bless you, all you sweethearts. Yes, I called you sweetheart. Sometimes we need someone to call us sweetheart. I’m volunteering this AM.
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Y’all remember me saying a few weeks ago that Keith & I started attending a small liturgical church in early June? I got to teach at my new church today for the first time. 2 classes. One on how to teach a Bible study and one on biblical narrative to about 25 (wonderful) people.
Can’t put into words how much it means to me. They’ve opened their arms to us with such Christlike affections. I’m overwhelmed by Christ’s kindness. He does not leave us to languish or to just free fall. I’ve been so blessed to be a member of the most wonderful churches. Deeply
grateful to God that he has not forgotten me but saved this wonderful community & experience for me at this late date in my journey. I told them in my teaching this morning that I said to myself aloud in the car driving over, “just try not to be weird.” I’ll know I didn’t succeed
My reading this AM was Daniel 3, a story many of us have known since childhood Sunday school. King Neb builds an idol. Commands all to bow down & worship it. The music plays & the landscape is carpeted in men, women, children, nobles & commoners crouched down before the image.
Faced with execution by fire, aware that God might well rescue them or he might allow them to give their lives, 3 people refused to bend their knees to an idol. There’s really nothing new under the sun. Temptations take different forms but they’re essentially the same old tests.
We have one life here. One set of knees. The Bible records their names: Shadrach Meshach and Abednego. The eyes of the Lord still roam the earth, looking for hearts that are whole toward him. Not one is generic. Not one individual is nameless. He sees your courage. He knows the
Among things that concern me greatly about the malignancy and immediacy of cancel culture invasive in the body of Christ is the impact on true repentance. By God’s own design, the path of faith is pocked all the way along the way with the knee prints & foot-pivots of repentance.
Psalm 119:59 reads, “I thought about my ways & turned my steps back to your decrees.” The Lord made provision through the cross of Christ for us to realize by work of the Holy Spirit that we’ve gone astray & to return to the right path without one whit of condemnation or cancel.
But the public faith culture supplies what God is clearly lacking. Common scenario: We’re going through a really difficult season, overwhelmed with disappointment and disillusionment and think to ourselves, I quit. Not doing this anymore. A common experience. So we publicly post
Last night the thoughtful & brilliant @KaitlynSchiess asked a series of questions that sparked some deep thoughts & interactions. For context, see screenshots of what I singled out to answer. My heart ached off & on all night thinking about some of the replies to her questions.->
I was too tenderhearted last night to bridge over to the good part. I’m trying to take the time to mourn a monumental loss in my life and not, in typical Beth Moore annoying optimistism, jump immediately to “let’s all get happy now!” This thread is to a very specific audience:
Those of you in Christ who feel displaced from your church or denomination but the communion of saints & the local church are essentials to your joys like they are to mine. I deeply understand why some are so wounded, they can’t darken the door of any church right now. I get
My good friend @ChristineCaine & I and no telling how many others are praying with much faith & expectancy for such a mighty and merciful move of God through the gospel of Christ Jesus in this generation. In feverishly praying for others, we have also asked him not to pass us by.
We have each been singing the old hymn Pass Me Not O Gentle Savior. It is very familiar to me and runs through my head regularly because of my denominational heritage but it came to her remembrance out of the blue. I love when God does that. I set out to further familiarize her
with the hymn this AM after prayer so I recorded playing it on my piano, sent her a YouTube rendition &, with my very mediocre voice, even recorded singing it. I then texted the moving words,
My friend, while on others he is calling, he will not pass a spa.
Thought I’d raise a little Ebenezer today. In a brutal time, Samuel set up a memorial stone & named it Ebenezer saying, “Thus far the Lord has helped us.”
Ebenezer living is a heaven-raised gaze. Alert & deliberate daily dependence.
Of morning by morning.
Of Give us this day.
Of Today, if you hear his voice.
Ebenezer living is standing in the present moment, aware & awed that here we are, still alive and kicking and kept by God amid a fierce battle or in the wake of a season when we had no clue what we were going to do or how we’d get through.
Thus far my aging hand is still in Keith’s.
Thus far I can still lend some help.
Thus far I can get out of bed, walk dogs. Go to work.
Thus far I still enjoy things like the way a leaf rocks gently in the air, a lullaby, falling to the earth.