Preliminary Ponderings on Unbelief and Rest

This post began this morning in a prayer time caught by the words, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11.28).  I bet I’ve breezed by the verse two hundred times, but this morning it stopped me. As I meditated on the words, feeling their elaborate depths, something in me sensed an appetite for “more.”  Do You mean more coming to You, God, or receiving of Your rest?  Or maybe You want me to open to unrest?  What do you mean by drawing me toward more, Father?

I sat for a handful of minutes, overwhelmed by my needs for reprieve.  And for such repreive needed by others.  Names and faces began illustrating my prayers.  This person and that friend—this family member and that enemy—“How might they be weary and burdened, Holy Spirit, hungry for Your rest?”  Names and faces kept coming.

Palace, Not Cottage

"Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way tha...t hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself." — C.
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Is Christianity Really That Different?

Rambling reflections as I sit in a coffee shop this morning.  Couldn’t help but listen-in on a business conversation setting the table behind me.  “What makes our real estate more desiring than the one across the street?…What makes us more profitable than our competitors?”  And as I settled into my chai and let their gripping words collide with my ears, I realized the relevancy of these questions, as they applied to my stance as a Christian. 

“Why is our message worth more than any other?”  “Is my faith that different from the one across the street, down the hall, or in another building?”  And I’m no apologetic, but allowing God to sift me through these matters left my heart with a truth, transcending any argument, religion, and even reason. 

I remembered that Christian’s belief system stands on grace.
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Vulnerable Post

Today I was keenly aware of the scene from Julie and Julia where Julie comes home from a bad day at work and says that even though she’s had a bad day she knows if eggs and flour and chocolate are whisked together you will get a decadent dessert.

My life has been that way as of late. Potholes have met me every other day just when I thought the path was paved ahead. This is not a sob story, but rather a time when I am trying to cling to what I know, which is that if I string words together, it might make a little more sense to me. And I like to share, my heart and my food. Instead of chocolate cake tonight it was cilantro, mint, and shredded carrots. It was ground lamb in my cast iron pan and a quick round of cous cous. It was lemon, shallots, and Mediterranean olives. And I looked like Golem eating it in the corner of our living room by myself. It was missing something though. So I took it back to the kitchen and threw in my favorite spice: cumin. Ah yes, that was it, and I longed to find the “cumin” to fill in the potholes of this New Year.

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Not So Happily Ever After

Not so happily ever after as Indian divorce rate doubles

By Mark Dummett BBC News, Delhi
Indian models display bridal wear during a bridal make-up workshop in Amritsar, August 2010 Most of those splitting up are members of the thriving, urban middle class

It is wedding season in India, the time of year when astrologers say the omens are best for a long and successful marriage.

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The wrong foot, is the right one

My life is starting to feel a bit Bridget Jones'-ish.  Not in the sense that I plan on running down the street in my underwear any time soon.  Rather, this past week has been a time of expecting one thing and getting another.  Seems a tad appropriate considering New Years, a time of expectations, is upon us all.  I'm already having to release them, my expectations that is. I'm struck by the sentiment in Bridget Jones: "I like you... just as you are."  But I'm not speaking of a partner, but of my kitchen.

For the past two and a half years, Nate and I have completely remodeled an almost 100 year home that was in poor condition.  The old owners couldn't keep up with marathon (or triathlon) of cracking plaster, roof leaks, galvanized pipes, and tired wood cabinets.  We thought it would be cosmetic, but a kitchen remodel, new pipes, lights, and flooring later... just to give you a glimpse, has left us proud, but also tired at times of the wiles of a home that has lived through more wars with itself and the country than I care to mention. 

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Late Night Confession

I know how to be assertive in business; I don't know how to be responsive (not initiate) in relationships :(

It started off as a tweet. In my quiet time my thoughts grew louder until it made its way onto the page.

Here is my late night confession...

I can't ruin it and it's not [already] too late. Jesus please forgive me for thinking that You're not above or bigger than me and my problems. Seriously ridiculous.

The Lord always keeps his promises; he is gracious in all he does. The Lord helps the fallen and he lifts those bent beanth their loads. When you open your hand, you satisfy the hunger and thirst of every living thing. The Lord is righteous in everything he does, he is filled with kindness. The Lord is close to all who call on him in truth. He grants the desires of those who fear him, he hears their cries for help and rescues them (Psalm 145:13-14, 16-19, NLT).

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With-ness: An Advent Reading

This past weekend, I was invited to partake in the advent activities at our church.  Every week for the past month, someone has shared a reading while other participants light one of the advent candles.  Our themes over the past few weeks have been time, openness, untamed and for this last week: with.

Here is the reading:

“I am waiting in a silent prayer. I am frightened by the load I bear. In a world cold as stone, must I walk this path alone? Be with me now. Be with me now.  Breathe of Heaven.”  Mary’s words sung by Amy Grant, are haunting in this advent season.

She didn’t ask to have this load taken off of her.  She didn’t pray for God to change the plan – she told the messenger angel: “May it be as you have said.”  In that instant the expectations of her life forever changed.

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Musings on Dating

So one thing I’ve shied away from discussing on this blog are my experiences with dating.  When I was going through my separation from my wife, I made a conscious effort to not  date, or even really allow myself to consider who I would date if the opportunity arose.  My heart was on saving my marriage, and dating would just complicate things more.  Even when it was clear we weren’t going to reconcile, I refrained from dating.  To finalize our divorce, we had to sign paperwork and then wait for 6 months.  I used that 6 month period as a transition - praying honestly for a marriage revival miracle, but also preparing my heart for a transition back into the life of a single man back in the dating world.  


I’ve got to tell you - it was scary.  I was never much of a dater in high school.

The Immeasurable Worth of a Mom : Discovered in 52 Hours

In the words of Jane Austen – or should I say Mr. Darcy -

I have to tell you Bridget: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.  

52 hours.  Start to finish – 52 hours.  I have been married almost 13 years, am 35 years old, have a seven year old daughter in first grade and a three year old son in preschool and in just 52 hours – I have realized how honestly poor my appreciation and understanding of motherhood – good motherhood – really was.  And Bridget, the mother of my children – is really good at motherhood. 

The thing is, I knew that 52 hours ago. I knew she was amazing on so many personal, spiritual, longsuffering, and gut rending levels.  But as to her mothering – I knew it at a Hallmark card cliché sort of level - a Focus on the Family 300 hundredth show on mothers for mothers about mothering level. Not the same thing as trying her pants on (you know what I mean) and walking around in them for 52 hours. 

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