I’ve waited a long time for this, and was happy today to place my order here for this book
I’ve often quoted Ann’s words from her blog, and now some of them are between two hard covers, which is something to celebrate. Her words are poetry, crystal-clear and honest, revealing beauty in darkness, worship in routine, joy in sorrow. She’s my hero in the way she lives and writes. I can’t wait to read her book.
Run, don’t walk, to get your copy!
Last week something funny happened. It wasn’t funny in a humorous way but in a strange or puzzling way. For the first time, I saw the faces of men whose voices I knew, and it baffled/bamboozled/confused me so much I could hardly watch. I felt most comfortable when I looked out the window and only listened to their voices instead of watched them talk.
It was my problem, not theirs. I’d spent hours listening to lectures by Paul David Tripp and David Powlison and very much like their approach to Christian counseling and how heart change happens in the Redeemer’s hands. Now, after the courses are over, I still often listen to the lectures on my walks. I recognize their pet words like ‘helicopter view’ and that God is ‘up to something good’ and ‘redemption’ and ‘significant life experience’ and ‘vignette.’
But in the listening, I’d formed an idea of how the men look, and when I saw videos of them, they didn’t look anything like what I’d thought! They’re not ugly or bad looking, but just not what I imagined and it messed with my mind.
Some readers of my book have written me that they wonder how I look. I like to keep it a mystery. Maybe it’s a control thing. Could be.
Anyhow, I wonder how it will be how it will be when I see God. I read His words and hear His spirit in my spirit, and feel I know Him and what He likes and wants in the limited way that the finite can understand Infinity. But how will it be when I see His face? I like to think that I’ll recognize Him. I like to think that I’ll know His face because I know His sons and daughters who resemble Him. Maybe it will stun me, but I don’t think it will be puzzling because in that moment, I will know Him as well as He knows me now.
Maybe it’s the New Year that brings out the silent questions. This is a bridge of time where we stand suspended, looking behind and before, wanting to know the meaning and significance of the past, wanting to know if any of that is connected to what’s in front.
Since New Year’s Day, I’ve heard from various single women, and their questions are voiced in individual, unique ways, but all ask essentially the same thing. I hear them because they are my friends. I am their confidante, not a guru who can see through the mists of the coming year or years. And while no one on earth has any promise of tomorrow, the single woman’s question is especially piercing because she is alone.
How do I know what I should do for the Kingdom?
I live with regret every single day.
At what point do I go out and make things happen? I’ve been waiting a long time.
Should I start college now? I wonder if I should have done it years ago.
This really isn’t what I had in mind for the next step in my life.
I hear the wistfulness and know the ache and have no answers. I only know the Great Alchemist wastes nothing. And that nothing escapes His attention. Nothing.
In Isaiah 40, the poem reads that He calls the stars out every night by their names, and this answers the question–how can you say ‘my way is hidden from the Lord?’
Maybe answers ARE in the stars.
Most times, my mom and sisters know me better than I do (there are glaring exceptions). This week my mom sent me a package of pages and clippings from my favourite Saturday reading material, The Irish Times Magazine. Pieces she knew I’d like, and she was right.
One of them was a new poem by John F. Deane. I guess it’s good I can’t write poetry like this, because if I could, I’d be proud.
A Birth
Yeshua, at your birth, did the angels
sing Vivaldi’s Gloria? and the shepherds,
did they play jaws harp, Jews’ harp, tonguing
Dvorak’s New World Symphony? The spheres–
were they humming, as twilight turned
from tangerine to emerald, and down
to a drear and turquoise basso–did the stars
sound out Bruckner, Brahms and Bach?
That sheep may safely graze…Or was it merely
the snuffling of animals in the small farms, the opening
of stable doors, or city-sounds of preparation
for another day, like an orchestra tuning up, this
puer natus, this image of love, of God invisible.
It hit me broadside: the blinding question of who I am, and who I should be.
I ran to Lolita, and in rushed, anxious whispers, asked: Who am I? Who should I be? Usually I feel fine in my own skin, but right now I want to wiggle out of it and run away. Am I really ok?
It had to do with my age, and shaking someone’s categories up, and them not knowing what box to put me in, and usually I quite enjoy doing that to people, but this time, for whatever reason, I didn’t.
So Lolita told me some nice words and hugged me, which usually puts most anything into rights again, and I’ve stayed in my own skin, and not moulted as I was thinking of doing.
Instead, I’m noticing grey hair appearing on my head at an amazing rate. It’s a fascinating phenomenon.
One my favourite Scripture pieces is John 1, and lately verse 16 rings repeatedly in my head: Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given.
Grace on top of grace. Generous, copious, extravagant gifts on top of gifts. I live in this reality, and the wonder of it takes my breath away.
Then this morning I read another of Mark Galli’s excellent articles, (you can read it here) and it resonated deeply with me.
… in all its simplicity, it all its miraculousness, God’s word to Mary, God’s word to us: “Hey you. Yeah you—favored one!”
Biblical commentators and novelists have fun speculating why Mary was greeted like this. She is often pictured as a devout young woman, pure in heart, whose righteousness won her the honor of bearing Jesus. But in fact, the Bible shows no interest whatsoever in Mary’s life prior to this moment (and relatively little afterward). This announcement to Mary comes completely out of the blue, as if it were an act of sheer grace.
Indeed, an act of grace to Mary and to us. Before we could decide for or against God, before we could show him how religious we are, before we could ask forgiveness for our first sin, before we were the apple of our parents’ eyes, before the foundation of the world, God favored us. Not because he knew we would blossom into greatness. ….No, we were favored when God knew well enough that we would fail to live up to our potential, that most days we would be miserable little disciples. Yes, in spite of the fact that we would be sad, fearful, doubting, anxious, and sinful people, he favored us.
I think that life can never be the same after we have heard his words: “Hey, you there, you favoured one!”
In one day, two friends gave me bright pieces of sunshine with their words. Like snowflakes catch the light and shimmer and shine, these words, unrelated and seemingly random, reflected light and glory to me:
The best moment of your life is right now!
God has once again baffled me by His exuberance and lack of moderation.
We were girlfriends waiting for a train. It was Christmas time in the city, night, but not dark. The evening had been magic, walking through snowy festive streets and exploring the Christmas market in Warsaw’s Old Town. We became like walking snowmen, coated with falling snow.
Rather than wait for the train in the underground station, we chose to wait above ground in the fresh air. We stood in a big, untracked space where people had obviously kept to the walkways and left the snow untouched. I discovered it made an easy ball, and instantly I knew what to do while we waited.
I handed my bag to my friend, tied my scarf so it wouldn’t get in my way, and started rolling a ball bigger and bigger. Packed it firmly, rolled it some more, and put more snow around it to stabilize it. In maybe ten minutes I had built a snowman just shorter than me. He was nicely proportioned, and his stance showed that he was happy.
But what do you use for a snowman’s face if there’s no gravel or coal or carrot around? You improvise. On the far side of a building I found a pine tree and broke off some little bits. The bare pieces made eyes and a nose, and a twig made a charming smile. With a little greenery, the snowman got some hair. Curved branches formed his arms reaching toward the sky.
I cannot put into words the satisfaction and delight I found in those quick ten minutes. It was almost like celebrating a sacrament or a revival. A bubbling, rollicking joy in making something out of nothing, delighting in the sparkle of the ball as it rolled and grew, giving the face a personality with its smile, and hoping that it would make strangers smile as they rushed to their train.
I bet the world would change if everyone made a snowman.
Something I love about God is His unpredictability, His surprises, doing what we least expect. “He knows our need, to our weakness is no stranger” and He meets those needs/pleas/by-gone prayers in His own secret way. This is my favourite Christmas poem, but it’s beautiful at any time of the year:
That Holy Thing
They all were looking for a king
To slay their foes, and lift them high:
Thou cam’st a little baby thing
That made a woman cry.O Son of Man, to right my lot
Naught but Thy presence can avail;
Yet on the road Thy wheels are not,
Nor on the sea Thy sail.My how or when Thou wilt not heed,
But come down Thine own secret stair,
That Thou mayst answer all my need,
Yea, every by-gone prayer.
–George MacDonald
After I finished reading the epic Lord of the Rings I didn’t know what to read because anything else felt like an anti-climax. An insightful friend recommended I re-read Green Dolphin Street. I had read it before and had been profoundly moved by it. Coming back to it now, it’s great fun to revisit the scenes and dialogues that held my attention back then.
Elizabeth Goudge does a superb job of portraying colorful, believable characters. These people live in a plot that shows their adventure and imagination, creativity and skill. Now and then she moralizes, but it’s more like she’s giving away her own worldview and insights for her readers to take or leave. There are sentences and paragraphs that take my breath away with their punch and color. She describes people’s personalities incredibly well. Oh yes–and there’s a hero not unlike Aragorn.
So there’s today’s book recommendation!
Tis a Gift to Receive 