A few times in my life I’ve been utterly overwhelmed by an outpouring of God’s grace and mercy.
And like David who danced before the Lord when the Ark was returned to Jerusalem, I simply can’t contain myself. I want to move my body in response to the rhythm of the good news.
So I understand Mary’s response to Elizabeth’s blessing.
Read the rest here: Advent: Dancing the Song of My Savior God
In the waiting, in the searching
In the healing and the hurting
Like a blessing buried in the broken pieces
Every minute, every moment
Where I’ve been and where I’m going
Even when I didn’t know it or couldn’t see it
There was Jesus
Jonathan Smith/ Casey Beathard/ Zach Williams -“There Was Jesus”
Songs reach places in my heart that words alone can never touch.
There is so much truth in this one.
When I couldn’t see Him, couldn’t feel Him, had no evidence of His Presence-Jesus was there.
His strength sustained me, His love protected my heart from bitterness, His grace was enough-is enough-for each day.
In the waiting, in the searching.
There was Jesus.
In the healing and the hurting.
There was Jesus.
There is a blessing buried in the broken pieces.
He is Jesus.
We usually think of worship as songs of joy and happiness extolling the virtues of God and Christ.
While that is most certainly a form of worship, it is absolutely not the only one.
Biblical lament is an honest, vulnerable expression of pain, a crying out to God in faith as we are suffering.
― Cindee Snider Re
Worship is also the broken whimper of a scared and wounded child, crawling into the lap of her Abba Father.
There is no less adoration in this ultimate act of confident trust than in the most eloquent declaration of theological truth in word or song.
Lament is worship.
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2019/02/03/refuse-to-hide-lament-as-worship/
I definitely don’t have a solo quality voice.
I can carry a tune but it’s best carried mixed in with others in a choir so the occasional missed note is barely noticeable.
But if I was granted the ability to belt out a single song and have it broadcast far and wide, this would be it: “Love the Broken”.
Not, “Love the Lovely” or “Love the Sexy” or even “Love the One Who Loves You Back”.
Nope.
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2018/09/08/if-i-could-sing-one-song-this-would-be-it-love-the-broken/
A precious waiting mama isn’t waiting anymore.
Eight years after her son ran ahead to Heaven, she’s joined him.
And I have to think that the step from earth to Home wasn’t a huge one for her.
I have never known a kinder or gentler soul in my life. She was always encouraging other hearts, always pointing others to the hope we have in Jesus.
She never preached, she simply extended grace and love that made it absolutely impossible for anyone to ignore the difference between her and most other folks.
I only met this sweet mama once face-to-face when she and a couple other waiting mamas came all the way to my house for lunch and an afternoon of sharing and encouragement. But our friendship continued long distance through Facebook and private messages.
Our mutual love of Jesus, children and children’s books wove our hearts together in so many ways.
I am convinced that the distance between her heart and Heaven is so short because she was already singing Heaven’s Song here on earth-calling grace, mercy, strength and hope to every heart she met.
I thank God for the privilege of knowing her and am looking forward even more to that Day when everything is redeemed, restored and renewed.
Rest well, faithful servant. Dance in the joy of your Savior. Hug your son. Revel in faith made sight.
We’ll be there soon. ❤
Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders.
Deuteronomy 33:12
I definitely don’t have a solo quality voice.
I can carry a tune but it’s best carried mixed in with others in a choir so the occasional missed note is barely noticeable.
But if I was granted the ability to belt out a single song and have it broadcast far and wide, this would be it: “Love the Broken”.
Not, “Love the Lovely” or “Love the Sexy” or even “Love the One Who Loves You Back”.
Nope.
It would definitely be, “Love the Broken”.
This is the song I’ve learned the hard way. It’s the song that’s been burned into my heart and mind and soul and spirit. It’s the song that resonates in any language, across time and across miles.
It’s the song every single heart can understand.
Because we have all been broken at one time or another.
And we have all desperately needed love at one time or another.
I’m really not that great at many things. I’m a decent cook, a mediocre housekeeper, a devoted but probably not up-to-the-highest-standards shepherd, a lazy gardener, and a wish-I-could-follow-directions-better crafter.
But I am a full on, all out, no-holds-barred lover.
I am unashamed to speak blessing over strangers in public places.
I will not be silenced by a sheepish glance when my kids wish I’d just stop telling them how very much they fill my heart with so many good things.
I hug. I give cheek kisses. I hold the hand of a person whose heart is breaking just so they know they are not alone.
I believe with my whole heart that at least one verse of the New Song we will sing in Heaven is “Love the Broken”.
Because isn’t that really what Christ came to do?
His ultimate act of sacrifice was to bring the broken and outcast into the Kingdom.
He is Hope for the hopeless, love for the unloved, peace for the war weary soul.
Truth is, I’m going to spend my life on something.
I want to spend it like Jesus.
The months when I can sleep with windows open are my favorite.
I love fresh air and I love falling asleep to the sound of the breeze tinkling my wind chimes or the rain drip, drip, dripping on the leaves.
Last night I had been asleep for a few hours and woke to a sound I rarely hear after dark-a bird (probably one nesting in the tree outside my bedroom window) was singing her heart out. I listened for awhile, thinking that surely something had startled her awake and as soon as her eyes took in the night she’d hush her melody and go back to sleep.
But she just kept singing.
Chortling through chord after chord, note after note, trill after trill.
I fell back to sleep before she did.
And as I was drifting off, I was reminded of this verse:
I’m thankful for open windows, singing birds and daily reminders that I am not alone on this journey through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.
Jesus is here.
He loves me.
He gives my heart songs in the night.
Any one can sing in the day. When the cup is full, one draws inspiration from it; when wealth rolls in abundance around them, any one can sing to the praise of a God who gives an abundant harvest. It is easy to sing when we can read the notes by daylight; but the skillful singer is the one who can sing when there is not a ray of light to read by—who sings from their heart, and not from a book that they can see, because they have no means of reading, except from that inward book of their living spirit, where notes of gratitude pour out in songs of praise. No one can create a song in the night by themselves; they may attempt it, but they will learn how difficult it is.
~C.H. Spurgeon
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