The eyes that close in sleep
will open to the blazing of the dawn.
The small and great from every age
will stand alone in fear.
Whispered secrets,
lifelong shut,
will shout till they are heard;
and all these things that might have been
will shame what has become.
But grace can change our yesterdays,
and transform our tomorrows now,
long before they come.
Grace can change our yesterdays,
and write our story new again.
Grace can change.
The King will stand to welcome you;
his smile will shout, "Well done!"
Your voice will raise your ceaseless praise
like smoke around the throne.
Like smoke around the throne.
The One who gave you sight
will be himself your light,
and he will be your never-fading joy!
Grace can change our yesterdays,
and transform our tomorrows now,
long before they come.
Grace can change our yesterdays,
and write our story new again.
Grace can change.
© 2005
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Hellen Keller on Joy
"There is joy in self-forgetfulness, so I try to make the light in others' eyes my sunshine, the music in others' ears my symphony, the smile on others' lips my happiness."
Friday, August 12, 2005
Simply Loved
Sometimes the simplest things are the most profound. For instance, I say the words, "God loves me." What is my emotional reaction? If the phrase has not become so commonplace that I have emptied it of meaning, I feel gratitude. That response deepens as I dwell on the idea.
"GOD loves me." Who is this God? What is his nature?
God is omnipotent -- he has all power. No power is greater. There are so many ways he could use this power. A harsh thought from him could crush me. His breath could incinerate me. His anger could sweep me away. But how does he use his power? He uses his power not to devastate me, but to help me, to lift me, to shield me. This God loves me.
God is omnipresent -- he is everywhere. His presence is inescapable. David celebrated this trait in Psalm 139. There is no destination distant from God and there is no mode of transportation that can outrun him. Jet travel would have been unimaginable to David. Imagine how he would react should he be escorted up the jetway, and buckeled in for flight. How hard it would be for him to understand. How incomprehensible that he could leave Jerusalem and that same day land on, say, the British Isles, a place so distant and foreign he does not know it. Yet David would know God had traveled with him. "If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guild me, your right hand will hold me fast."
The sight of a submarine diving would mesmerize him, but he would not suppose the vessel would dive beyond divine reach.
Death he was family with -- yet death could not separate him from the caring God.
This, of course, is the point. God is present everywhere. I cannot escape him. But his nearness is a comfort, not a fear, because this God loves me.
God is omniscient -- he knows all things. There is nothing unknown to him. More to the point, there is nothing about me unknown to him. No thought crosses my mind without his awareness. No idea ever occurred to me without him seeing it, hearing it, feeling its impact on my thinking.
God is all-knowing, but he does not use this knowledge against me. David is excited and comforted by the reality of it. He applauds the knowledge of the God who understands him so completely. And this all-knowing God loves me.
God loves me.
God LOVES me.
He has grounds to detest me. Divine indifference would be understandable. It would, in fact, be astounding, and would prompt eternal gratitude, if he merely found me tolerable. Better still if he liked me. Instead, his affection for me runs infinitely deeper. "I have loved you with an everlasting love," he says, "therefore, in lovingkindness have I drawn you."
Like the shepherd with one lost sheep, he sets his comfort aside to look for me. Like the woman with the lost coin, he searches diligently for me until I am in his exuberant grasp. Like the father with the wayward, distant son -- the lost son -- he longs for my return, and throws a party when at last I find myself home, back in his arms.
He sacrificed everything to make me his own. Everything.
God loves me.
God loves ME.
Who am I to merit his attention? What in me prompts divine favor?
Look at me. See me as he alone is capable of seeing me. I am unworthy, with thoughts and attitudes alien to the Kingdom of God. And yet, look at me. See me as he alone is capable of seeing me. I am loved, forgiven completely, wrapped in the righteousness of Christ.
God loves me.
So simple an idea.
So profound a thought.
© 2005
"GOD loves me." Who is this God? What is his nature?
God is omnipotent -- he has all power. No power is greater. There are so many ways he could use this power. A harsh thought from him could crush me. His breath could incinerate me. His anger could sweep me away. But how does he use his power? He uses his power not to devastate me, but to help me, to lift me, to shield me. This God loves me.
God is omnipresent -- he is everywhere. His presence is inescapable. David celebrated this trait in Psalm 139. There is no destination distant from God and there is no mode of transportation that can outrun him. Jet travel would have been unimaginable to David. Imagine how he would react should he be escorted up the jetway, and buckeled in for flight. How hard it would be for him to understand. How incomprehensible that he could leave Jerusalem and that same day land on, say, the British Isles, a place so distant and foreign he does not know it. Yet David would know God had traveled with him. "If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guild me, your right hand will hold me fast."
The sight of a submarine diving would mesmerize him, but he would not suppose the vessel would dive beyond divine reach.
Death he was family with -- yet death could not separate him from the caring God.
This, of course, is the point. God is present everywhere. I cannot escape him. But his nearness is a comfort, not a fear, because this God loves me.
God is omniscient -- he knows all things. There is nothing unknown to him. More to the point, there is nothing about me unknown to him. No thought crosses my mind without his awareness. No idea ever occurred to me without him seeing it, hearing it, feeling its impact on my thinking.
God is all-knowing, but he does not use this knowledge against me. David is excited and comforted by the reality of it. He applauds the knowledge of the God who understands him so completely. And this all-knowing God loves me.
God loves me.
God LOVES me.
He has grounds to detest me. Divine indifference would be understandable. It would, in fact, be astounding, and would prompt eternal gratitude, if he merely found me tolerable. Better still if he liked me. Instead, his affection for me runs infinitely deeper. "I have loved you with an everlasting love," he says, "therefore, in lovingkindness have I drawn you."
Like the shepherd with one lost sheep, he sets his comfort aside to look for me. Like the woman with the lost coin, he searches diligently for me until I am in his exuberant grasp. Like the father with the wayward, distant son -- the lost son -- he longs for my return, and throws a party when at last I find myself home, back in his arms.
He sacrificed everything to make me his own. Everything.
God loves me.
God loves ME.
Who am I to merit his attention? What in me prompts divine favor?
Look at me. See me as he alone is capable of seeing me. I am unworthy, with thoughts and attitudes alien to the Kingdom of God. And yet, look at me. See me as he alone is capable of seeing me. I am loved, forgiven completely, wrapped in the righteousness of Christ.
God loves me.
So simple an idea.
So profound a thought.
© 2005
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