Reflections on His Heart

Though disease obeyed His voice
And the blind received their sight,
Though the deafness had no choice
But to hear without a fight,
Though the waves of Galilee
Could not rise against His word,
Yet their minds refused to see
What the lake itself had heard.

Though He took the servants' role
Grasping not for wealth or fame,
And though while a King paid toll
When the crown, His right to claim,
Though His kingdom was not of
Earthly prowess, strength, or throne,
Yet rejected was His Love
For it "seeketh not her own."

Though He read the traitor's heart
Though He knew that base design,
Yet He bore it from the start
Yes, both Judas' sin, and mine.
Though He saw His love refused
As a millstone in a stream,
Yet He chose to be thus bruised
That some soul He might redeem.

Remember

Let distractions, delusions, deceptive delights, and disarming duplicity be forgotten. Despite the cost, there is but one Desire worth desiring. That "one thing" the psalmist sought. A closeness with the Man of Sorrows, the Master, the Redeemer, the Conquering King.  

"...Praise our God, all ye His servants, and ye that fear Him, both small and great." Revelation 19:5.

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When afflicted for My sake

Remember Me.

When oppressed and soon to break

Remember Me.

When rejected on this earth,

Don't forget to Me you're worth

Every cross I bore from birth.

Remember Me.

When your duties seem severe

Remember Me.

When like mountains they appear

Remember Me.

When your burdens are too great,

When they have a dreadful weight,

Then My own cross contemplate.

Remember Me.

When you'd shrink from the ordeal

Remember Me.

When too great the pain you feel 

Remember Me.

For I live to intercede,

I, who answers human need,

I, who also in this lead.

Remember Me.*

*See the book, Desire of Ages page 659.2

The Son-beams Perspective

Perspective: that powerful placer of situations and stressors. These spectacles are neither rose-tinted, nor mal-adjusted. They simply put life in it's proper sphere. 

As wonderful as it may be, perspective does not change the object of attention. It expands the picture frame. Cloudy disturbances may float their way across life's screen no matter how big a frame you hammer out. 

Therefore, look higher. 

      There are still Son-beams in the sky. :)

There's one cloud in the sky-
A little one at that,
And yet it draws the eye
As if a flying cat.

How often what we see
Is where we choose to turn.
Our view may be cloud free
If only this we learn.

So turn toward the light
And catch those golden gleams.
For clouds are even bright
When glowing with sunbeams :)

Weimar Board Weekend: "Now"...

      Is it possible for "Now" to be past tense? :) It is in this case...

The lights are on...

...and the doors are open!

Recently positioned seats in the new (old) building

From the back

Miracle: occupancy for one day in Echo Hall. 

The King of all the ages
Could grasp eternity,
Yet traced redemption's pages
In deepest poverty.

With joy and gifts abounding
What's given is not lost,
But blessing comes surrounding
The sacrifices' cost.

Now therefore let us follow
The path that Christ has trod-
To give up all our living
Should it bring one to God.

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Behold the riches given
And let your heart reply,
My Jesus gave all heaven-
Now, all to Him give I!

Taken from 2 Corinthians 8:9-11

Seedtime and Harvest

Leaves sprinkle themselves outside. Trees are showing twinges of red. Why talk of planting when Autumn is nearly here? 

The lessons of seed sowing are timeless.  

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Year by year the farmers take

The best of all their seed,

And by appearance make mistake

Discarding what they need.

But only when the grain is cast

Into the field of needs,

Is there preserved and saved at last

A harvest of more seeds.

Just as the grain is thrown away

Christ came to earth to die,

And yet His faith beheld the day

When more would meet His eye.

For He saw then, as we must see,

The great joy to be had.

When all to God is given free

The harvest will be glad!

The Gift of Pain

There is so much of it in this world. Rare is the day when a patient answers me in the negative. Huh? No pain? I croak. If they only knew how uncommon they are.

Two weeks have given me a taste of where the world lives. Small taste for sure. Nonetheless, it paints a different color to life. Endure. Get through. Look beyond. 

It's a gift- the pain. When a middle-aged patient is sobbing right there, moaning in distress, what is this 21 year old supposed to say? Maybe these last weeks will help to answer that question next time. 

Seems superficial though. The pangs of the world are too deep for human compassion. 

So the gift. Much bigger, as God does things. Musculoskeletal aches,  and tingling nerves aside. My pain by proxy on His back. Broader, deeper, sharper than anything etched in language, heavier than anything we can lift, is that burden. Willingly He shouldered what would have... should have crushed us. I can't relate to their pain, but He can. Therefore, He can gaze into the eyes of a hurting world, and say, I know. I felt that anguish times infinity.

So here's the call. Their pain is an opportunity for His love. Jesus doesn't just remove our burden of pain. Rather, He gives a burden of love in its place. It's a love that's willing to hurt, to pound with the pangs of the human heart. 

The aim is not in the hurting though. It's in the healing. Eternally. No more pain- for the former things are passed away. 

Let us be persuaded. There is a Balm in Gilead. Nothing shall separate us from it. No depth. No height. No throbbing ache. No nothing. The pain He took was deep, but His heart of love was deeper. 

Still is. 

Marvelous Love. Marvelous Gift. 

The Gospel According to the Third Floor of Kaiser

August 27 dawned about as spunkily as a yearly event that you know is coming, but always shows up before it ought to. No, it wasn't a surprise, it just came quickly. 

There were about ten bleary seconds in the OR to my consciousness, and then it was recovery. Honestly, the mandibular osteotomy, a.k.a. jaw surgery was the easy part. 

I do not wish here to turn anyone's stomach, just to send the message to your heart that came to mine. :)

Up three stories for a night's stay in Kaiser. The bleeding had not completely stopped, evidenced by the formerly white cloth at my neck. In fact, the tail was told down to my socks. There is something starkly soiled when that vital red stuff is on your clothes. Maybe it's just me. I'm not terribly bothered by my own blood (and coming out of anesthesia, not bothered by much at all), but something wastes no time to cry "unclean" when it's landed on cotton. 

So there I am. Unclean. Still bleary. Awake to very little, yet groggily aware of the dirtiness yours truly was in. And Into that collection of shadows she steps. A total stranger. Cleaning my face. Changing my socks. Taking away the defiled garments. For.ever. 

It's not the nobility of nursing. Not the commendation of cleanliness... We're leaving regions of ice packs and hospital rooms. It's that Someone so clean would deign to take away the filthiness of someone so dirty. That One who is known and worshipped by seraphim and cherubim would wipe blood off the face of a stranger.

It would be enough to be clean. Pure. Holy. Justified. But the blood that stains the children of Adam, is not primarily their own. It's His. 

Right. 

He bleeds from the wounds I have made. But in His blood is the DNA of purity and holiness. Both to will. And to do. In place of stained socks He gives the preparation of the gospel of peace. In place of a filthy garment, His own. 

Jesus stoops over a bleeding world. His precious blood, mingling with His tears, drips faster. Then looking into eternity He sees a people, clothed in pure and white linen. He sees the palms, the crowns. He sees cleanness of heart. And He begins to work. To wash. To clothe. To restore. To purify. 

Soon the faith of Jesus will be rewarded. Soon He will claim His own. Soon He will dwell with those who have clean hands and a pure heart. Face to face. For.ever. 

Made white, a.k.a. clean, in the blood of the Lamb. For.ever.