Broken Pitcher

  Memorial Day I once thought I understood the cost of freedom. I’d heard the family stories, my momma named for her uncle shot down over France, I’d been to the parades and ceremonies, could repeat great quotes, I’d seen the movies…   But then a few years ago I walked among the names – name after name after name, reaching far, even unto the horizon;  and the faces of sons and daughters and mothers and fathers – determination in their countenance, fear in their eyes, aged beyond their years.  One caught me as I walked by, gripped my heart and dragged me up close. He stared at me, wanting me to see, wanting to be known. Though his lips unable to speak it, his lifeless eyes told of the horrors he’d seen, the death he’d lived, the life he’d taken. He was just a boy, once full of life, now, full of death. He begged “Remember me.”  And through tears I vowed I would never forget him. Him without a name, an ordinary face – just one among many…  And then I stood, in reverential silence as mirr

Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure"-- for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints. [Rev 19:7-8]   We’ve all been to weddings. Everything focuses around the bride. My favorite moment is to watch the groom as he catches the first glimpse of his bride, he’s overcome by her beauty – she’s prepared herself specifically and especially for this day.   Now imagine, how does the bride of Christ prepare herself to be radiant for her beloved? Righteous deeds, good works… As I pondered this passage and how it applies to this season,  I heard “Un-becoming” . I sense that this season we are in is a cleansing period, a time of preparation.   UN   becoming who we’ve become; busy, weary, anxious, overburdened, chameleon – being who others want or expect us to be. Lost, depressed, frustrated, needy.  And instead, shed the shackl

  What if?   What if we stopped reacting to the words of the few whose goal it is to stir up dissention? What if we ignored those who pointed fingers at others different then themselves and just loved people anyway? What if we let go of past sins and offenses of our ancestors and instead embraced each individual? What if we hated injustice, instead of hating people… Call me naive. Call me a dreamer. Call me ignorant. But what if… What if instead of being puppets yanked about by the “man behind the screen” we realized that the “few,” though loud, do not represent the whole. That those few who spew hate are evil. What if instead of believing and responding to the hate-hype we just simply turned it off.   But it’s much more than that isn’t it?   There is an evil in this world and it’s out to kill, steal and destroy us! To pit brother against brother, neighbor against neighbor, people against God…   But, what if we put the blame where the blame lies and stopped blaming our neighbor for the

I woke up thinking about manna.  It was early and my mind wasn’t alert yet and I was trying to remember what Scripture said about it. Bread of angels, food for the Israelites, heavenly bread. Trying to remember the meaning of the word. Searching sleepily through the files of my mind. “What is it?” Oh, funny, manna means “what is it.” Why I was awakened with this word? Time to start the day. Warm cup in hand, laptop open. Scrolling a bit to catch up with who’s doing what. Then I see a challenge from my cousin to take 5 minuted to read this blog. Not ready to "read” this early in the morning so I scroll past, but then something pulls me back.   Nightbirde. her story is raw and grace-filled, broken and power-full. She’s walked it. She’s walked the torturous path that leads to the sacred places. She knows Him like many do not. Because she needed to. Her faith on full display… I take in her journey and am glad for the knowing of it. But then, then this! ”  Every morning, He sent them m

I’m sitting here on the beach, the steadfast waves crashing against the shore, the sun warm on my back, taken in, overcome – just in awe of God. I know, the beach is an inspiring place for many people, but this is a new experience for me as sand is not really my friend. But this beach, this beach speaks to my soul – it’s full of beautiful stones! Oh, I can't wait to explore! Last time I was here there was a short drop from the sand to where the waves stretched. Now it appears the waves have carved a new path to the shore and piled up a stone ramp. These new stones are much larger than the ones that were here a little over a week ago. (Things like this fascinate me and cause me to wonder as I take it all in.) I can hardly take a step without oohing and ahhing over the lovely stones. I feel a little like the Sand Pipers, walking along the shore, head down, poking through the sand, as I scoop up stone after stone, hands full.  Searching for something to carry my treasure.I empty out

  Sometimes love looks like Sunflowers. This week has been so crazy I couldn’t even remember what the date was. As my hubby checked his phone to confirm that it was in fact the 28 th  of August , I lamely mentioned that the month had just slipped away. But my heart? My heart was gripped and began to brace itself for what lay just a few days away.   It’ll be five years on Sunday. Five years since my son took his final breath. Five years since I’ve heard his laugh, seen him smile, listened to his stories, looked into those bright eyes and hugged him long. Five long short years…   And my heart aches.    As I got ready for the day I asked the LORD to give me strength to endure with grace. To let me not fall apart during worship at church on Sunday. To stay steadfast and not be derailed by grief. Then off I went, into the busyness of the day.    The grocery shopping took longer than I expected and I was tired as I pulled in the driveway. Arms full of bags as I came through the door, I plopp