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I bought a sweater once that was "one-size-fits-all," but I quickly discovered that "one-size-fits-all" is a bold-faced lie. When it comes to clothing, one size most definitely does not fit all. I am a size four, and the sweater practically swallowed me whole. It was supposed to be one of those items that stretched and retracted to accommodate its wearer, but instead it was bunchy and bulky and unflattering. It quickly moved to the back of my closet, only to be donated to Goodwill for some other gullible shopper to get suckered into buying.One-size-fits-all is a lie when it comes to clothing. And, I am coming to learn, it is a lie in pretty much everything else. When the IAM staff first got our iPhones, mine felt clunky and large in my smallish hands, while my coworkers who are men with much larger hands did not find it awkward at all. When I go somewhere, I slide easily into my Nissan Sentra, but when I recently gave my friend Allen a ride, his height and girth made my small car a bit of a challenge. For him, a truck or larger sedan would fit much better. The more I think about it, one size does not really "fit" all. Rather, "all" adjust or accommodate or simply get used to using something that doesn't fit all that well. The more I think about it, life depends on "all" adjusting to the "one-size." I suppose, in some backward way, that is how manufacturers can get away with saying that "one size fits all."
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Last week, from Sunday to Sunday, was my church's annual week of prayer and fasting. Like he does every year, our pastor called the entire church to fast. What type of fast we did was entirely up to us. He just asked that we have 100% participation. A few people I know of did juice fasts, but most of us did a modified Daniel fast of sorts. Some (myself among them) did a "media fast." For me, this meant that I did not watch any television or movies all week. Now, I do not consider myself a tv junkie. In fact, for years I did not watch television at all. But lately, I have grown very fond of Hulu. The truth is, I don't get any TV stations in my apartment; I do not have cable or a TiVo or DVR or anything of that technological ilk. But with Hulu, I can watch a variety of television programming any time, for free. So nowadays, especially after a long day of work, I come home, fix something to eat, and watch something on Hulu to "check out" for a bit.
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This is the week of my church's annual fast, and part of my participation involves spending each night that we don't have a prayer meeting reading scripture and other good books and singing to God in the privacy of my home. So far, two new songs have come from this week, and I recorded one of them for New Hope's worship team to learn. I thought I would share it with you, too.
At the end of Tim Keller's book "The Prodigal God," he refers to Isaiah 25 and includes a beautiful passage from that chapter. After I finished reading it, I went to the Bible and read the whole chapter. That is what inspired this song.
I've just returned home from a 75 minute walk with my dog, Jonah. Instead of going to Snug Harbor, which is across the street from my house, I decided to walk a bit further - to Silver Lakes Park - and let Jonah loose in the dog park there. I did not check the weather or temperature outside before we left, but I knew pretty quickly that it was really, really cold out. (I've just learned, upon returning, that it was 27, but with the windchill, "feels like 13." Yes, indeed, it did. We had a beautiful walk, though, and while my glasses are still fogged up and my fingers have not quite thawed out, I'm glad we went. We both needed the exercise and fresh air. I decided this morning that I would pack up all my Christmas decorations this afternoon, so in a little bit that's what I'm going to do. When we got in from our walk, I carried the empty Christmas boxes upstairs to my apartment from my storage area on the first floor, and, once again, am thinking of my grandmother, Alice Biscomb, and how much I miss her. I miss her at times throughout the year, but especially at Christmas, because I inherited many of my most beloved decorations from her, including my manger scene.
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From "The Prodigal God," by Tim Keller:
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I wish, wish, wish I was as funny as this guy. Reading his blog makes me laugh out loud. In fact, I chortle at this blog. See for yourself by clicking here. I've just been reading through my own blog, and my goodness, I'm an intense one. I don't mean to be, it's just how I'm wired, I guess. (In person, I'm a lot of fun. Belive me. I spend a lot of time with myself.) Meanwhile, enjoy some of my favorite posts from Jon Acuff. He also has a book coming out in April. Can't wait. |
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I spent New Year's Eve in quiet contemplation and communion with God. At 11:30 last night, I was sitting in bed with my Bible and journal, praying, reading and listening for direction from God. It was a beautiful time and I was very encouraged by how God is working several influences in my life together to speak a common message to me for the coming year. I asked God to begin renewing my heart and mind in a fresh way, and I have a strong assurance that He honored that request in a profound way. My new year preparation started on Sunday, in fact. I finally got to hear Dr. Pete Shemm, a professor of theology at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary, preach at Cave Spring Baptist Church in Roanoke, Virginia. Dr. Shemm, or Pete (as he would prefer to be called), is the interim pastor at the church I grew up in, was baptised in, and where my parents remain active as church musician (mom) and Bible teacher (dad). Since Pete came a few months ago to fill the pulpit and provide transitional leadership after the former pastor left, I have been receiving regular updates from my father, who is deeply impressed by Pete Shemm and his gift for preaching, evident humility, and passion for theology.
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People sometimes ask me what my favorite passage of scripture is, and I usually have a hard time coming up with an answer. However, this morning I finished my 2009 Bible Reading Plan by reading the last three chapters of Revelation, and I think this might just be my favorite passage:
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| A New Yorker for nearly ten years, Christy Tennant rides the Staten Island Ferry several times a week. She never tires of the boats in the harbor, watching seagulls in flight, the Statue of Liberty, and the Manhattan skyline. | |
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