In his faithful love he promises to rebuild us, to repair what we have torn with our own two hands. He cleans our filthy wounds encrusted with the blood guilt of our rebellion. He gives us back our dead, restores what the moth has eaten. He transforms our dry deserts into fruitful gardens. He breaks our chains, clothes us, and calls us his own. He brings us home and fills our hungry souls with what is good. This is the faithful love of our Lord.
When you find yourself in a heap of trouble and you know you’re innocent, you can easily call out to God for help. But when you suspect you might be the cause of your own trouble, or worse, that God himself is disciplining you, how do you respond?
At some point in our most desperate prayers we have to rally. Because when you get to the bottom of your barrel, when you’re scraping out the dregs, when you have less than nothing, you can see him. It’s easier to surrender all when we have nothing. And absolute surrender is how we see him. […]
When I picture our tiny slice of universe surrounded by what seems like infinite space, light years, eons, when I think about us, tiny specks on this relatively small piece of celestial real estate, I have to wonder, does God really know me? When I hear about people who’ve humbled themselves and accepted whatever suffering […]
I forget God. I forget who he is. Though I have only to look up at the infinite sky to recognize my insignificance compared to his immensity, I still lose sight of his majesty. I wander off into my own definition — the smallness of who I think he is, rather than the expansiveness of […]