musings in moderation
I am not worthy of this cup of coffee
sitting next to me,
hot and steaming.
Nothing is a given.
On the contrary, we are made to yield.
But looking around
I see abundance
in the form of dirty glasses on the island,
ripe bananas,
even the starter that went bad
is a gift from the
real Country.
The heaviness.
In health, we must go low,
For those who can’t.
Even when they crucify you.
It is the way.
Standing tall,
Turning the other cheek.
As they hobble along to glory,
We quietly help carry their burdens,
As He sustains us,
His health coursing through our veins.
Interceding,
Giving them back up
Every time
They spit in our face.
But the beauty.
The wonder
When they come back.
“I will cling to the old rugged cross, and exchange it someday for a crown.”
This line from the old hymn has been floating around in my head a good bit over the past couple of days.
The cross, an ancient symbol of sin and death and treachery, is now a symbol of righteousness, life, and citizenship.
For many years, the cross was alluring to me, but it resided in the land of knowledge. I was afraid of it, really. I think it was perhaps a call to look at things I didn’t want to look at. Many doors in my “inner parts” (Psalm 51:6) were closed. I think I was afraid of being myself, which is one thing the cross does; restore us to the person God created. This fear was rooted in childhood, where it was not ok to be myself.
In 2014, I hit a bottom. I will say that repentance happened to me. (Along with mental and physical healing). The cross went from being a scary symbol of my own sin and death to a symbol of righteousness and rest. Instead of now only making me tremble, it is a fountain of righteousness, life and citizenship.
Righteousness: It is more sure than the setting sun, more solid than gold, more constant than rythymns and time. We are clothed in this for all time. It doesn’t change.
Life: All those scary dark places I mentioned above? Over time they have been melted, settled, and taken. They are now permanently resting on the broad shoulders of the king, absorbed into the Light.
Citizenship: This one gets me everyday. I literally feel like I have won the lottery. I can’t believe I’m in the family.
The horror and deepest darkness of sin and death have been swallowed by Christ. May rejoicing and praise never be far from my lips.
(Give us today, our daily bread)
Father, thank you for another day. It is a day that I am not entitled to, but rather given. Give me grace to not think too highly of myself and to consider others better than myself. Help my to see that your kingdom doesn’t flow to the superhuman but to the one who has been broken. Save me from my superhuman self, have mercy on her, Jesus. Give me grace to ask for help when I need it. Thank you that YOU restore my soul. Help me to be attentive to your agenda, giving me eyes to see and ears to hear. Help me, above all, to not lean on my own understanding, but to acknowledge you in all my ways and you will make my paths straight. Amen.
Did he become my sin on the cross? As in, He pushed me aside and became that person that I loathe that lives and rages inside of me. Did he become obsessed with myself, during that time when He took on my sin? Did He become that selfish person that I know so well? Could it be true that I in all of my gore died with Him? When I look at this cross, He is looking at me. Those eyes. If only I could see those eyes, like oceans and muddy puddles and lakes and cosmos.
Like, He said, “I will be you. Step aside. This is not for you to bear. I must become you.
So that you can have my story. So that you can be you. So that you can light things up, unaware, everywhere you go.
So that they can see their story up there with me, their trauma, their monsters too. I became them too.”
The holiness, the justice, the beauty, the worship, the gravity. Oh that I knew another language right now.
It’s been his goal for millennia. Break them down. Starting with Eve, then Adam.
Then Cain, killing Abel.
If you destroy the family, you can get them
isolated. And vulnerable.
Then the cunning begins, and it seeps into the soul, unawares, as light.
Until it begins to take over, trying to snuff out good.
In our children. It happens to the children, as they are forsaken
By distracted parents. Parents, unhealed, un whole themselves, running about. Here and there. Full of privacy and pride, alone in a sea of “likes” and comparisons.
If we can just call out. Cry out and yield. He will heal us. And He will open our eyes to see that we are indeed
Surrounded.
By lowly soil and seed.
By every good deed
That has been done to us.
Love has encircled us all along,
We’ve just been conned into isolation,
Indeed.
But the larger than life snake is no competition
For the meek and lowly Lion.
Father give me grace to put my family first. Help me to love my children in areas where I am quick to criticize. May creativity bound, safety overflow. May even the plants and animals be happy in my house. May I be content with the hidden things in a world that is self-promoting. What a battle this is for me, God! May I be full of joy and gratitude; the real versions of these. May I settle for nothing less than wholeness. Help me to manage the electronics in my life. May I have grace, each day, to be boss over them. Lord have mercy! Help me to listen to my kids, looking into their little eyeballs. And when I don’t may I be quick to forgive myself and ask for their forgiveness. Give me grace to be vulnerable. My children are my “least of these.” Help me to remember that by caring for them, I am ministering to you, Jesus, each day. And last but not least, help me to remember that you are the best Parent for my kids. You’ve got this! All of this! Amen.
Holy Cup of Coffee 