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Writing Through The Fog

A little humor. A little music. Heaps of Grace.

Here I am ........in the city of Refuge

4/7/2017

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Hello
I'm the guy who sits next to you
And reads the newspaper over your shoulder
Wait
Don't turn the page
I'm not finished
Life is so uncertain


​Ain't that the truth!
What to say? What to say? Will I have enough to say? 
​Um, yeah. 
Will it be coherent? That's another thing, entirely. 

It is not good for man to be alone. And yet, we so readily isolate. Physically, emotionally, or spiritually. I am a rock. I am an island. Well, not so. Not so. 

I can be just self-sufficient enough to sink that island kingdom of self. Gah. The thing I've hated the most is admitted my need for others. Crazy! But not a rarity. 

It's been a week. I thought we were safe from tornadoes here in Cali, but in fact, they just whip through looking a little different, sweeping y'all to Arizona. 

God willing, I'll be home to speak at our Women's conference tomorrow. The theme? 
Refuge, refuge, refuge. God's refuge in relationships. Coincidence? Well.............
I've been working on just what to say the last few weeks. What part of my testimony to share? Now, I need to edit furiously. Twenty minutes is just a warmup. Where do I even begin? 

Too much too much too much.

In these last few stressful days, we have taken so much comfort in the refuge offered in this refuse heap. I may go bald from all the hair-pulling (for real, I don't have enough to begin with), but I've been helped to calm through those praying with us. Focusing on difficult decisions and conversations, because of the family looking out for our boys without a thought. Fellow trainers, stepping right up to cover, when I was supposed to be covering them. No question. Friends answering our annoying questions. Nurses putting up with our ignorance. God has bombarded me with examples of the importance of community. Being knit in. Being shored up in order to shore others up on our end. It's a might fantastic machine we've got boy. Forget the island, I already had a mountain of a witness to the story of OUR lives emerge from the last two years. Can we do a part two? Nah, no one needs to be subject to that much of my rambling. 
Look out for each other. Run to each other. Don't hide away from one another. You may become your own Bikini Atoll. Bombs away. No safety there. 

What Cornflakes are to Post Toasties,
What the clear blue sky is to the deep blue sea, 
What Hank Williams is to Neil Armstrong, can you doubt we were made for each other? 

Lyle Lovett- Here I Am 
​

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Refuge for the frenemy

4/4/2017

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Now you've carried me 14,000 days
Isn't this the story of our lives

the violet burning - finest hour 


What is this, even? Judas is prepping to speak on the vital importance of relationships? Loving our sisters?  Being Christ for each other? It's nearly impossible to stroke the keys and bring forth words that don't autocorrect to hypocrisy. 

Is this a test? A joke? 
Or more grace? 


The Lord keeps refocusing the selfish eyes outward. To the rest of the body. Those exemplary hands and feet. And to His work and continued faithful promise of refuge.

But my eyes are toward you, O God, my Lord;
    in you I seek refuge; leave me not defenseless!
Psalm 141:8


As we ready to speak on God's refuge of relationships, pray for us. That the enemy would not bring division and condemnation. He is prowling, looking to devour. But the story of our lives is this - God has carried us. And he has gathered us together in those gracious hands of His. It is not MY life, but our lives. Woven together through many mercies into one body of Christ. It's His workmanship and you're all a vital part of it. You've grabbed the lost lambs and lead us through the dark night. Through those rocky crags. 
You've spoken words of life. And medicinal rebuke. Gentle encouragements. Hedges of protection. Healing salve for the injured. 
Directions home.
​The loudest sound in my heart is a happy cry of relief and gratitude for the safety He's provided though His family. 
Continue to seek each other's good.
And our Father will bring us all home together.


Breathe and weep
And moan
With our lights out
This is the way home
This is the way home
It was the loudest sound
In my heart
"Go on...
This is the way home."

the violet burning - the loudest sound in my heart 
​Listen here or purchase here 


2 Comments

    shirley decker

    Disciple. 
    Nerd.
    Wife.
    Mom.
    Singer of random songs.


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