Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.9
2 Peter 3:9
The Lord is not slow to fulfill His promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you. Not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.
She's not gonna ask you twice
I couldn't beg or plead or bleed or scream. It wouldn't be right. And a narcissistic withholding of peace can't break me the same way now.
There's things still tangled in the heartstrings of the mess you left me in. You probably won't hear them in my voices just like I can't see you through your....
Marblized well cultivated power trip and a half dose of innocent ignorance.
While I'm holding & testing the olive branch it's not the best time to ignite it
There's things still tangled in the heartstrings of the mess you left me in. You probably won't hear them in my voices just like I can't see you through your....
Marblized well cultivated power trip and a half dose of innocent ignorance.
While I'm holding & testing the olive branch it's not the best time to ignite it
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.9
Nashville.
Who knew how well a town could mock you....
Lights and spells, ties, stages, promises, white well marketed lies
And you with your lines and your head full of songs and sometimes yourself...
I miss what I dreamed this dream would be, but in ways I'm proud to say I know what it does
I hate what this town can do to a man, and to a woman's will
Don't doubt while you're cleaning the coffee shops, in the town you should've owned.
I count the costs of hearing this call, and I know I have to own it
Lights and spells, ties, stages, promises, white well marketed lies
And you with your lines and your head full of songs and sometimes yourself...
I miss what I dreamed this dream would be, but in ways I'm proud to say I know what it does
I hate what this town can do to a man, and to a woman's will
Don't doubt while you're cleaning the coffee shops, in the town you should've owned.
I count the costs of hearing this call, and I know I have to own it
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.9
stuck in my throat
Pretend you aren't just everything everyone else was
You've got less reasons, Baby I've got more
If I'm overwhelmed, overworked, often wrong, forgive me
If you're leaving though or still double living, let me please latch my door
You've got less reasons, Baby I've got more
If I'm overwhelmed, overworked, often wrong, forgive me
If you're leaving though or still double living, let me please latch my door
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.9
Primanti Brothers a Pittsburgh tradition since 1933
We will definitely be more experimental with our sandwiches from this point on. We should have been adding fries to our sandwiches years ago.
In other news we're now headed home from PA. And I'm really going to miss it. Pennsylvania does something good to my soul. I don't know if it's the mountain's, the Burgan, Baker, Mcpherson combo, the chocolate milk & ice cream from Kerbers dairy,a combination of altitude and nostalgia or all of that combined. But I will always love Pennsylvania and miss its people until I can make it back again.
Maybe there's something healing and fulfilling about going back to where ministry started taking us 20 years ago and seeing change but also loving the feelings of samecness and nicely aged relationships. The people that watched God move with you, who watched me grow up, and the ones I've watched grow up. It's so much goodness and I feel so honored, refreshed and relieved to know that though I'm heading down the road now and I may not know or like whats before me. If I am living in His plan for me, I will be walking a walk that will leave year after year's worth of strong lifelong repationships, countless priceless memories and whether I'm in a storm on the side or the road or in Aunt Page's kitchen surrounded by the people and foods that I love... I will have a peace, but more importantly a faith that passes all understanding. Knowing that when you lay down your life for Him, He will take care of you, whether you're in your favorite place or in the trenches.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.9
Friday Night Church
Tonight's menu consists of a Friday night church outside Pittsburgh. We bring the music in 15 minutes...and the combination of Pennsylvania, Coffee drinks and raspberry lemonade puts it over the top
gone, gone, gone
In the last week or so two of my Dads best friends lost their Dads. One was just last night. I've been crying when I let myself, and sometimes when I don't.
My Dads Uncle is in the hospital, he may not make it out again, I'm preparing myself, so is my Grandmother, his sister. I talked with him a lot on Easter, I didn't know then what I think I'm knowing now.
Last night I dreamed a lot more then I should have, about love lost, about emotions I miss. I feel things I don't mean to feel.
We cry for how happy things were before, as much as we cry about things we're too afraid to talk about.
But isn't that the root of all of this? The bittersweet, love's hand in pain, life's hand in death...
I forget things can end so quickly. I've been remembiering.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.9
Easter Sermonizing
I'm not sure when I'll get a chance to sit down and write out what I'm thinking about the last month or week or few days. But a few things lay at the forefront so I want to write them before anymore time passes
2 things, then on to the most improtant things.
My Aunt Teenie made an easter bunny cake Sunday, as she traditionally used to do for my Dad & Great Uncle who's birthdays are a day apart, April 19th & 20th respectively... It was a Butter cake, it was the best cake ever and I promise you that even if Betty Crocker tried to box it up and sell it it would never be like hers. Good Southern Home cooking can't be replicated or produced outside of Georgia :)
That was a nice part of the good Sunday I shared with my extended family... Good memory material.
This last Saturday we were cooking all day to be ready for Sunday & Grace asked me if she could make Lemonade. I said I would make it after the cooking was done. She said, "No, I need to learn to make the lemonade in case I'm ever separated from all of you, I need to know how to make lemonade for myself if I'm all alone." She's also learned to make eggs, probably for the same reason. Or maybe it's just because she thinks shes the oldest 8 year old around.
I watched the Passion of the Christ this Easter & as I lay there on the floor my eyes watering and occasionally closing to block the view of the beatings, the lashings & all the blood that tore apart the body of Jesus these things where going thru my mind ::
First, the fact that someone complained to me the other day and thought they shouldn't show The Passion in a church because it was so graphic. And I said, "People are willing to watch graphic, violent movies everyday, Christians even do, because they have forgotten there's a difference between the church & the world. Why shouldn't we sit through the pain of what He sacrificed?" So as not to be a hypocrite, I sat through it.
By His stripes we are healed - as I watched the whip tear His skin
Nothing but the blood of Jesus - All of that blood was shed with a purpose,
He was bruised for our transgressions - I was thinking about how flippantly we sing, practice, sway & smile to our worship songs, happily and peacefully singing He was bruised for our transgressions...on Sunday's and Wednesdays instead of worshiping with our life, which is what His sacrifice for us deserves.
He was a blameless man - He never sinned, we sin everyday.
He lived a holy life - We don't even think about holiness in our day to day. Our laziness, sometimes disguised as a fear of legalism, or living by grace keeps us safely in the comfort zone of the status quo And never requires the discomfort of an attempt at sacrifice, much less a radical, abnormal, no-compromise walk.
He knew all about us and yet he chose to love us enough to die for us. That is enough for me. Unconditional, undeserved love. I am not perfect, He knows that, He accepts that, despite His perfection
Also, Mary, I know people have their doctrines, Catholic, non-Catholic, Protestant, etc. I don't care about the differences. And I don't care if people criticized Mel Gibson for the "Catholic slant" he gave the story. Mary was a part of the story, and watching her struggle for and with her Son, the Son of God... Resonated with me. Her intercession for and with her God, her Son is supposed to be part of our walk. Everything God put in the story is there for a reason.
And last but not least, or to sum up most of what I felt... He was a perfect man, something none of us can even attempt, and He took the punishment we deserve, every wrong spot in my heart was flashing before me as I watched the crucifixion. All the little sins we like to call our weaknesses & flaws or mistakes... Those things are the reason that an innocent man, never mind that He was God incarnate, it's enough for me that He was pure, spotless and holy and He loved me enough to die in my place... but I didn't feel guilt as much as I felt something that can only be described as awe or an overwhelming love. He knew every part of me and chose to love me. He knew every part of each of us & made that choice. That will never get old to me.
2 things, then on to the most improtant things.
My Aunt Teenie made an easter bunny cake Sunday, as she traditionally used to do for my Dad & Great Uncle who's birthdays are a day apart, April 19th & 20th respectively... It was a Butter cake, it was the best cake ever and I promise you that even if Betty Crocker tried to box it up and sell it it would never be like hers. Good Southern Home cooking can't be replicated or produced outside of Georgia :)
That was a nice part of the good Sunday I shared with my extended family... Good memory material.
This last Saturday we were cooking all day to be ready for Sunday & Grace asked me if she could make Lemonade. I said I would make it after the cooking was done. She said, "No, I need to learn to make the lemonade in case I'm ever separated from all of you, I need to know how to make lemonade for myself if I'm all alone." She's also learned to make eggs, probably for the same reason. Or maybe it's just because she thinks shes the oldest 8 year old around.
I watched the Passion of the Christ this Easter & as I lay there on the floor my eyes watering and occasionally closing to block the view of the beatings, the lashings & all the blood that tore apart the body of Jesus these things where going thru my mind ::
First, the fact that someone complained to me the other day and thought they shouldn't show The Passion in a church because it was so graphic. And I said, "People are willing to watch graphic, violent movies everyday, Christians even do, because they have forgotten there's a difference between the church & the world. Why shouldn't we sit through the pain of what He sacrificed?" So as not to be a hypocrite, I sat through it.
By His stripes we are healed - as I watched the whip tear His skin
Nothing but the blood of Jesus - All of that blood was shed with a purpose,
He was bruised for our transgressions - I was thinking about how flippantly we sing, practice, sway & smile to our worship songs, happily and peacefully singing He was bruised for our transgressions...on Sunday's and Wednesdays instead of worshiping with our life, which is what His sacrifice for us deserves.
He was a blameless man - He never sinned, we sin everyday.
He lived a holy life - We don't even think about holiness in our day to day. Our laziness, sometimes disguised as a fear of legalism, or living by grace keeps us safely in the comfort zone of the status quo And never requires the discomfort of an attempt at sacrifice, much less a radical, abnormal, no-compromise walk.
He knew all about us and yet he chose to love us enough to die for us. That is enough for me. Unconditional, undeserved love. I am not perfect, He knows that, He accepts that, despite His perfection
Also, Mary, I know people have their doctrines, Catholic, non-Catholic, Protestant, etc. I don't care about the differences. And I don't care if people criticized Mel Gibson for the "Catholic slant" he gave the story. Mary was a part of the story, and watching her struggle for and with her Son, the Son of God... Resonated with me. Her intercession for and with her God, her Son is supposed to be part of our walk. Everything God put in the story is there for a reason.
And last but not least, or to sum up most of what I felt... He was a perfect man, something none of us can even attempt, and He took the punishment we deserve, every wrong spot in my heart was flashing before me as I watched the crucifixion. All the little sins we like to call our weaknesses & flaws or mistakes... Those things are the reason that an innocent man, never mind that He was God incarnate, it's enough for me that He was pure, spotless and holy and He loved me enough to die in my place... but I didn't feel guilt as much as I felt something that can only be described as awe or an overwhelming love. He knew every part of me and chose to love me. He knew every part of each of us & made that choice. That will never get old to me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)