These are the Hands

The voice that spoke creation with a word,
The voice that calmed the raging stormy sea,
The voice that taught each parable in love;
     This is the voice that speaks to me.

The hands that hold the moon and stars in place,
The hands that set the ill and captives free,
The hands willingly pierced with rugged nails;
     These are the hands that carry me.

The eyes that shared compassion with His tears,
The eyes that beckoned little ones draw nigh,
The eyes that see within each heart and soul;
     These are the eyes that watch over me.

Dressed in a robe reaching down to His feet,
Eyes like a blazing fire,
Voice like the sound of rushing waters,
     Face like the sun
          shining so bright
     And as I fall down at His feet
          He whispers to me...

My tender voice that tells you, "Peace, be still!"
My caring hands that guide you in My will,
My eyes that see you safely through the night;
     These are My eyes,
     These are My hands,
     This is My voice;
          I Am.
 ~ae

Revelation 1:12-17

There's a Party Goin' On

There’s a party going on 
in the heavens above
Throwin’ buckets of confetti 
An’ truck loads o’ love!

Well, the buckets must be massive

‘cause my snow shovel ain’t sleepin’.

Wow!  That truck must be enormous

Can you hear it’s back up beepin’?!

 ~ae

Armed and Ready

   He was armed and ready, hunkered down behind Grandpa’s old wheelbarrow by the woodshed, his brothers in secured prone positions under Mama’s lilac bush, … and just in time.  The droning of the crop duster engine grew steadily nearer.  Adjusting colander and sauce pan helmets, walkie-talkies crackled as stick rifles lifted and sling shots stretched into position. 

    One last kiss.  She resolved to smile bravely, to send him off with courage, to be strong for the children… again.  As the Chinook engines droned, he sat with head in hands, praying for their safety.  He knew she would be faithful to him.  But so many of the other guys who sat around him, consumed in their own thoughts, what of them? 

   Murky trenches, pelting sandy wind, sweltering heat, bitter cold, and waiting… waiting for orders, waiting for letters from home, waiting for rations, waiting… always waiting… and always ready.  Canvas walls offered meek attempts to shut out the constant droning of military vehicles day and night.

   Grand reunions, red carpet, medal ceremonies, flags unfurled, apple pie, warm welcomes, friends and family.  Joy, real and surreal.  Slowly the last pickup truck drove away leaving in its wake a gently receding drone in a small cloud of dust.  Everything had changed and his youth was gone.  Who was he?  What was important?  How would he lead without following orders?  Where would he go from here? 

    He sat ready with pocket watch in hand… and just in time.  He saw her through the small round window standing bravely beside the children.  He felt grit in his boots and the weight of his pack.  He smelled the stench of smoke, of filth, of wounds.  He heard rhythmic boots marching in cadence.   As the droning of the crop duster engine gradually faded and was gone, her trembling hand patted his own tenderly.  She was there to wheel his chair slowly through the day room and down the hall.

~Mrs. Arlene Eldridge

It has been said, "We are Infinite"

“We are infinite.”

The serpent lured Eve into believing she could have it… infinite life, infinite knowledge, infinite wisdom.

“You surely will not die!”…. 

“You will be like God, knowing good and evil”… 

“When the woman saw that 

the tree was (in her own estimation) good for food, 

and that it was (from her own perspective) a delight to the eyes, 

and that the tree was 

desirable to (according to a source other than God) 

make one wise...”   ~Genesis 3:4-6

The Tower of Babel was constructed because the people believed they could have it… infinite power, infinite possibilities, infinite self-provision, infinite unity, infinite independence.

“Come, let us (not depend on God any longer, but) build for ourselves 

a (self-sustaining) city, and a tower 

whose top will reach into (God’s realm) heaven, 

and let us make for ourselves a (different godless) name”… 

“The Lord said, …”this is what they began to do, 

and now nothing which they purpose to do 

will be impossible for them.”   ~Genesis 11:4

So, what’s the big deal?  Why not proclaim we are infinite?

First, the word infinite must be defined.  

If you recall your Geometry lessons, a line segment has both a beginning point and an end point.  A line having a beginning point but without end is called a ray.  A line, in order to be infinite, must be without beginning or end.

The human race inherently ate the fruit right along with Adam & Eve, assuming the fate of a line segment.  The free gift of salvation through Jesus Christ offered to lift us, geometrically speaking, into the ray category.  But infinite is an apt description of God and God alone. 

“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end."  ~Rev. 22:13  

It is not a surprise to God, nor is it a new idea, that we strive for infinity.  In fact, He Himself gave us that desire. 

“He has made everything beautiful in its time.  

Also, He has put eternity into man’s heart, 

yet so that he cannot find out 

what God has done from the beginning to the end."  

~Eccl. 3:11 

God purposely designed us void of infinity.  He knew that we would not desire eternity unless we lacked infinity.  He knew that our relationship with Him would be magnified through dependency upon Him.  He knew that we  would need direction and motivation to focus our praise and worship on Him alone.

God is infinite because He IS… and we are finite beings because He IS.

We have because of who God is.   He simply IS.  We are defined by Him.  He defines Himself.

In the same way, we love because God first loved us…  and, God IS Love.

Consequently, it is irrational to endeavor to define ourselves based on ourselves… or our aspirations of infinity.

~ae

Inroads

Google search:  inroad definition...

in·road/ˈinˌrōd/
Noun: Progress; an advance: "make inroads in reducing spending".
An instance of something being affected, encroached on, or destroyed by something else... 

like a fork, for instance.  ~ae

to Speak ~ to be Heard

   As overwhelming and, quite frankly, stomach churning as the flow of political posting on facebook has been, I honestly believe that the recent years' increase of social media has been extremely beneficial in preparation for election time. 

   Syndicated television talking heads and newspaper publishers are no longer the only voices heard across the nation. Honest, hard-working people and lazy, shiftless bums alike are given fair opportunity not only to speak but to be heard through unedited, unfiltered, raw social media.

   The ugliness of political banter will not necessarily change, but the privilege as Americans to choose our local and national leadership is a privilege not experienced by most of the world... and with it, we bear the responsibility to speak, for We the People govern our nation.

~ae

Canning Requires Deep Thought

   Exiting the grocery store, my mind was very preoccupied with plans for the afternoon's applesauce & stewed tomato canning activities and sorting out priorities.  I wheeled my grocery cart to the parking lot, opened the truck door, threw my purse across to the passenger's seat, opened the back door, shoved some stuff that was on the back seat over to make room for my groceries... and it was only as I began to place my groceries on the seat... (you know where this is going, don't you)... the creeping realization came to its full fruition:  It was not my truck!
   Oh, it gets better.  As I put my stuff back into the cart and tried to start breathing again, a guy walked up to me.  I began to apologize profusely and pointed out to him the suddenly-larger-than-life presence of my very similar truck in the next aisle over.  He finally interrupted me and, sort of sheepishly, broke the news that it wasn't his truck, either.  He just wanted to share with me the series of unfortunate events in his life and ask for gas money, which I had to explain that I would not give to him, but that I would give him some food if he needed some, to which he explained how he didn't do drugs or anything, but he just needed some gas money................
   Meanwhile, a sweet little elderly lady had approached us and waited patiently until I acknowledged her presence.  After exchanging lengthy blank stares, I burst into my profuse apologies once again, only now it was to the right person.  She was very gracious and understanding (praise God).
   Thinking this most awkward of misadventures (I do have quite a list, actually) was complete, I made it back to my truck, only to discover that my purse was still on the passenger seat of the impostor truck.  Having not one stitch of pride left to damage, I turned once again to that fateful parking spot still occupied by the poor-innocent-by-stander-vehicle where the nice lady's husband now stood beside the nice lady, both listening to the young man who, in preparation for asking them for money, first felt the need to give them his perspective on the events that had occurred, feeling quite smug, I'm sure, at being a key witness.
   The nice lady's husband eyed me suspiciously, and for good reason I must add.  I produced for him a less emotional, more factual version of my near-criminal activity and waited while he opened the truck doors to inspect its contents for status quo.  I asked if he wouldn't mind if I retrieved my purse from his front seat.  I didn't wait for his answer.  I opened the driver's door after he had closed it, reached across the console, grabbed my purse, closed the door, held up my purse for all to see, thanked them for their kindness, tossed one final plea for forgiveness, and very slowly hightailed it for my truck.
   I sure hope they're just passing through.